The story opens with a medical examination that immediately establishes the protagonist's combative nature. Fletcher Monk, a wealthy industrialist, is wired to a Cardiophone while Dr. Rostov tries to calm him. The machine's tracing of 'perilous peaks and precipices' visually signals his strained heart, but Monk's internal monologue—transmitted through his eyes as indignation, protest, and warning—reveals a man who resists any form of control, even medical advice. His refusal of a narcotic and his demand for his shirt 'now' set the tone for a character who equates relaxation with vulnerability.

A Voice of Tension and Defiance

The narrative voice in Heart is tightly aligned with Monk's perspective, using sharp dialogue and internal cues to convey his relentless drive. His three guiding questions—'Where can I find it? How much will it cost? When can you deliver?'—are presented as a mantra, reducing life to transactions. The prose mirrors his tension: sentences are often short and clipped, especially in exchanges with Dr. Rostov. When the doctor hesitates, Monk barks, 'You're fussing, Rostov. My shirt.' The repetition of 'now' as a command underscores his impatience. Even the description of his physical state—'taut muscles and nerves stretched out just below the breaking point'—uses the language of machinery, fitting for a man who sees the world in terms of leverage and deals.

Shifts in Setting and Pace

The story moves from the claustrophobic doctor's office to the bureaucratic frontier of Mars, and the pace shifts accordingly. On Earth, the action is confined to a single room, with the Cardiophone's rhythmic 'systole ... diastole' providing a steady, ominous beat. Once Monk arrives at the Mars colony, the pace quickens with a series of confrontations. The young official's 'insolence' triggers Monk's rage, and the dialogue becomes rapid-fire. Captain Moore's speech about the colony—'a crazy, wild, improbable wonderland'—introduces a new rhythm, one of labor and survival. The captain's reference to Captain John Smith anchors the setting in historical colonization, while the description of scarlet plants and chasing clouds adds a surreal, almost whimsical note that contrasts sharply with Monk's grim determination.

Recurring Details and Thematic Hooks

Several details recur to reinforce the story's themes. The 'big, black bird, flapping its wings in your chest' that Monk describes to Rostov is a visceral image of his heart condition, linking physical ailment to psychological dread. The brown leather bag Monk carries—presumably containing money—becomes a symbol of his Earthly power, which he tries to wield on Mars. When he offers to 'name your price' to Captain Moore, the captain's refusal marks a turning point: money has no currency in a colony where 'if you don't work—you don't eat.' The word 'volunteer' is used twice, first by the captain and later implicitly, suggesting that Monk's journey is a test of whether he can adapt or remain a prisoner of his own nature.

Readers should pay attention to how Slesar uses the Cardiophone as both a plot device and a metaphor for the story's pulse. The machine's tracing of 'perilous peaks' mirrors the narrative's own peaks of tension, from medical crisis to bureaucratic standoff. The excerpts leave Monk's fate unresolved, but the pattern of his interactions—demanding, then bargaining, then confronting—suggests a character who may need to learn a new language of cooperation. The story's brevity (around 8,000 words) rewards close reading of its dialogue and descriptive economy.