He was as safe as he was going to be. He was out of Manehatten, he had his prize, and he was away from the ponies. The exhaustion hit him as another wave of coughing bowled him over. He sneezed explosively, letting out a pitiful whine of misery as he did so. He felt like he was burning up, now more than before as he sat there, resting. The energy was released from him, and he slumped in the seat, lying on his side. He fumbled with his helmet, taking it off and letting it fall to the ground from his clumsy, unresponsive fingers.