No, thought Bart. Don't close me out now.
"Let's open the chest and massage the heart."
Yes. Yes.
"I think it's futile, doctor."
"We can try."
Good old Jonas. Bart floated to the table and forced himself into the shell which lay white and unmoving under the penetrating light from above. It wasn't easy, Bart tried to move the heavy hand, but it was quite numb.
"Not a thing. Might as well quit."
Holsclaw's in a hurry. Damn him.
"I'll massage a little longer."
Bart pushed at the leaden eyelid. No go. Come on, come on. He felt a convulsive chill, a throbbing in his head.