At the precise moment of death, will I be able to look down at my body and see you trying to save me?
         No.
         No?
         No, we don’t think so.
         But how can you know for sure?
         We don’t. But we’re fairly sure.
         Fairly?
         About 99.9% sure. Personally –
         But the last student in the line doesn’t say what he personally feels and Bill’s relief at identifying his voice is like being lost at sea and seeing land, because aslong as the words remained dispossessed he was afraid the cancer had reached his brain, or it was God speaking.
         How can that be? Bill hears himself asking. We put a man on the moon but we don’t know what happens when we die? What kind of half-assed scientists are you?
         Science doesn’t have all the answers, the last student says as Bill opens his eyes. But it’s better that way, don’t you think, Mr Hare? Shit, my biro! They’re like gold dust round here.

12

  

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