Buckley Grover awoke with a start and forced his rheumy eyes to peer beyond his glass tomb.He could barely move, his arms pinned on each side and riddled with needles and tubes.He wanted to open his mouth and scream, but every breath seared his lungs and his throat had become dry and leathery.His heart seemed only a beat away from death, and his mind was all that Bucky had left, such as it was.He still remembered things, could still process what was going on around him.For instance, on several occasions when he woke and remained lucid, he observed the drone orderlies coming in and out of his intensive care unit every fifteen minutes to check on his vital signs.