K-Pax (100 page)

Read K-Pax Online

Authors: Gene Brewer

Tags: #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #General

BOOK: K-Pax
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Unfortunately
,
I
canno
t
relat
e
 
th
e
 
content
s
 
o
f
 
tha
t
 
intervie
w
 
verbati
m
 
becaus
e
 
o
f
 
a
 
malfunctio
n
 
i
n
my
tap
e
recorder
,
whic
h
I
di
d
no
t
discove
r
unti
l
th
e
sessio
n
wa
s
over.

Wha
t
follow
s
i
s
a
summar
y
base
d
o
n
th
e
sweat
y
note
s
I
too
k
a
t
th
e
time.

Whil
e
h
e
devoure
d
a
prodigiou
s
numbe
r
o
f
cherrie
s
an
d
nectarines
,
I
hande
d
 
hi
m
th
e
 
lis
t
 
o
f
 
questions
Charli
e
 
Flyn
n
 
ha
d
 
faxe
d
 
t
o
 
m
e
 
fo
r
 
prot'
s
 
attention
.
 
I
 
ha
d
 
peruse
d
 
th
e
 
fift
y
 
undoubtedl
y
 
well-chosen
querie
s
 
myself
,
 
bu
t
 
the
y
 
wer
e
 
quit
e
 
technical
,
 
an
d
 
I
 
wasn'
t
 
muc
h
 
intereste
d
 
a
t
 
tha
t
 
poin
t
 
wha
t
 
his
responses
,
 
i
f
any
,
 
woul
d
 
be
.
 
(
I
 
coul
d
 
hav
e
 
answere
d
 
th
e
 
on
e
 
abou
t
 
ligh
t
 
travel-it'
s
 
don
e
 
wit
h
 
mirrors.)

pro
t
 
merel
y
 
smile
d
 
an
d
 
stuffe
d
 
the
m
 
unde
r
 
th
e
 
elasti
c
 
ban
d
 
o
f
 
hi
s
 
short
s
 
alongsid
e
 
th
e
 
ever-present notebook.

A
t
th
e
meres
t
suggestio
n
 
h
e
 
foun
d
 
th
e
 
spo
t
 
o
n
 
th
e
 
wal
l
 
behin
d
 
m
e
 
an
d
 
immediatel
y
 
fel
l
int
o
 
hi
s
 
usual
dee
p
 
trance
.
 
I
 
waste
d
 
n
o
 
tim
e
 
i
n
 
dismissin
g
 
pro
t
 
an
d
 
aske
d
 
t
o
 
spea
k
 
wit
h
 
Robert
.
 
Hi
s
 
countenance
droppe
d
 
a
t
 
once
,
 
h
e
 
slouche
d
 
dow
n
 
t
o
 
th
e
 
poin
t
 
wher
e
 
i
t
 
almos
t
 
seeme
d
 
h
e
 
woul
d
 
fal
l
ou
t
 
o
f
 
hi
s
 
chair,
an
d
 
that'
s
 
wher
e
 
h
e
 
staye
d
 
fo
r
 
th
e
 
remainde
r
 
o
f
 
th
e
 
hour
.
 
Nothin
g
 
I
 
brough
t
 
up-hi
s
 
father'
s
 
death
,
 
his
relationshi
p
 
wit
h
 
hi
s
 
friend
s
 
(th
e
 
bull
y
 
an
d
 
hi
s
 
victim)
,
 
hi
s
 
employmen
t
 
a
t
 
th
e
 
slaughterhouse
,
 
the
whereabout
s
 
o
f
 
hi
s
 
wif
e
 
an
d
 
daughter-elicite
d
 
th
e
 
slightes
t
 
hin
t
 
o
f
 
a
 
reaction
.
 
I
 
carefull
y
 
introduce
d
 
the
subjec
t
 
o
f
 
th
e
 
law
n
 
sprinkler
,
 
bu
t
 
eve
n
 
tha
t
 
evoke
d
 
n
o
 
respons
e
 
whatsoever
.
 
I
t
 
wa
s
 
a
s
 
i
f
 
Rober
t
 
had
prepare
d
himsel
f
fo
r
thi
s
confrontation
,
an
d
nothin
g
I
coul
d
sa
y
wa
s
goin
g
t
o
shoc
k
hi
m
ou
t
o
f
 
hi
s
 
virtually
catatoni
c
state
.
 
I
trie
d
ever
y
 
professiona
l
 
maneuve
r
 
an
d
 
amateuris
h
 
tric
k
 
I
 
coul
d
 
thin
k
 
of
,
 
includin
g
 
lying
t
o
hi
m
abou
t
wha
t
pro
t
ha
d
tol
d
m
e
 
abou
t
 
hi
s
 
life
,
 
an
d
 
endin
g
 
u
p
 
b
y
 
callin
g
 
hi
m
a
 
shameles
s
 
coward
.
 
All
t
o
n
o
avail.

Bu
t
somethin
g
ha
d
occurre
d
t
o
m
e
whe
n
I
brough
t
u
p
th
e
 
subjec
t
 
o
f
 
hi
s
 
famil
y
an
d
 
friends
.
 
I
 
recalled
prot
,
an
d
wa
s
greatl
y
relieved
-
whe
n
h
e
finall
y
showe
d
up
.
I
 
aske
d
 
hi
m
whethe
r
 
ther
e
 
wa
s
 
anyone
,
 
i
f
not
me
,
Rober
t
woul
d
b
e
willin
g
t
o
spea
k
to
.
Afte
r
a
minut
e
o
r
tw
o
h
e
said
,
"H
e
migh
t
b
e
willin
g
t
o
tal
k
 
t
o
 
his
mother."

I
implore
d
 
hi
m
t
o
 
hel
p
 
m
e
 
fin
d
 
her
.
 
T
o
 
giv
e
 
m
e
 
a
 
nam
e
 
o
r
 
a
n
 
address
.
 
H
e
 
said
,
 
agai
n
 
afte
r
 
a
 
few
moment
s
o
f
silence
,
"He
r
nam
e
i
s
beatrice
.
That'
s
al
l
I
ca
n
tel
l
you."

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