K-Pax Omnibus

by Gene Brewer

  Animals also seem to know when changes in the weather are coming, possibly because of some unknown sensitivity to subtle variations in air pressure or humidity, though not so far in advance, probably. But how can we explain her uncanny ability to predict, with more than ninety-percent accuracy, who will become the next president or the winner of the Super Bowl, weeks or even months beforehand, something no animal can do. (It is rumored that Villers has reaped a small fortune from her desultory pronouncements, which he usually keeps to himself, claiming doctor-patient privilege.) What does she see in the sun and stars that the rest of us are missing?

  I also saw Frankie waddling around the lawn under her usual black cloud. Her inability to form human relationships seems to be related in some way to autism— perhaps a similar part of the brain is involved. Unlike the true autists, however, she has no problem communicating with the staff and her fellow patients, though what she conveys is likely to be a caustic comment or jarring insult. Whether these jabs are intentional I can’t say, but she was one patient I hoped prot might be able to help, despite his own misgivings about human love.

  At the far corner I noticed several of the other inmates grouped under the big oak tree, shading themselves like a bunch of sheep from the heat of the August sun, except that they were all facing inward. I wondered whether something had happened. But when I started in their direction I saw prot in their midst. He was holding forth on some subject or other, commanding their complete attention. Even Russell was silent. As I approached them my beeper squealed.

  I hurried to a phone and punched the number of the departmental office. “It’s Robert Porter’s mother,” the operator said. “Can you take the call?” I asked him to transfer it.

  Mrs. Porter had received my letter and understandably wanted to know how Robert was doing. Unfortunately, I could only tell her that I was pleased with his progress so far, but that much more work remained to be done. She asked when she could come to see him. I told her I would let her know the moment her son was well enough for that. She seemed disappointed, of course, but agreed to wait for further progress. (I didn’t mention the possibility that she might instead find him in the same state he was in when she was here five years ago.)

  I returned to the lawn. Villers had departed, leaving Cassandra to gaze once more at the heavens. Prot was gone, too, and the others were milling around under the oak tree, directionless without their magnetic leader. Frankie was still off by herself, cursing the wind.

  “Dr. Flynn was here yesterday with another astronomer and a physicist,” Giselle told me over lunch in the staff dining room. “I gave him an hour with prot. I’ve never seen anybody so eager to meet someone. He actually ran down the corridor to prot’s room.”

  “Well, did he learn anything he didn’t know before?”

  “He didn’t get everything he wanted, but he seemed to think it was worth the trip.”

  “Why didn’t he get everything he wanted?”

  “Prot’s afraid he’ll use the information to his own selfish ends.”

  “I figured as much. Of course it’s also possible that prot doesn’t know all the answers.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it.”

  “What sorts of things did Flynn ask him about?”

  She took an enormous bite of a sandwich and continued, her jaw the size of an apple, “For one thing, he wanted to know how old the universe is.”

  “How old is it?”

  “Infinitely.”

  “What?”

  “You remember—it keeps expanding and contracting, forever and ever.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  “Flynn wasn’t satisfied with that. He asked him how long the present expansion has been going on.”

  “What did prot tell him?”

  “He said, ‘How do you know it’s expanding?’ Flynn started to explain the Doppler effect but prot cut him short with: ‘When the UNIVERSE is in the contraction phase you’ll still have the same Doppler shift.’ Flynn said, ‘That’s ridiculous.’ Prot said, ‘Spoken like a true homo sapiens.’”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes. He wanted to know how many planets there are in our galaxy, and how many of them are inhabited.”

  “What did prot say?”

  She swallowed some of the food bulging in her cheek. “He said there are a trillion planets in our galaxy alone, and a proportionate number in all the others. And guess what percentage of these are inhabited.”

  “Half of them?”

  “Not that many. Point two percent.”

  “Is that all?”

  “All? That means there are several billion planets and moons in the Milky Way teeming with life.”

  “How many of these creatures are like us?”

  “That’s the interesting thing. According to prot, a lot of the beings around the universe resemble us. ‘Us’ being mammals, birds, fish, and so on.”

  “What about humans?”

  “He says that humanoid beings have arisen or are evolving on some of these, but that they usually don’t last very long. About a hundred thousand of our years, on the average.”

  “Not a very pleasant prospect.”

  “Not for us.”

  “What else?”

  “Dr. Flynn wanted to know how we can accomplish hydrogen fusion as an energy source.”

  “And prot wouldn’t tell him, right?”

  “Oh, he told him, all right.”

  “Really? What’s the secret?”

  “You won’t believe it.”

  “Probably not.”

  “It only works with a certain substance as catalyst.”

  “What substance?”

  “Something found on Earth only in spider excrement.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “But it’s not just any old spider poop.”

  “It’s not?”

  “Nope. Only that from a particular species indigenous to Libya. The stuff comes in little gold pellets the size of poppy seeds!” She started to giggle.

  “Is this prot’s idea of a joke?”

  “Flynn didn’t think so. He’s already trying to figure out how to get into Libya.” Then she became more serious. “Guess what else?”

  “I can’t imagine.”

  “He wanted prot to give him a demonstration of light-travel.”

  I finished the last tiny curd of cottage cheese. “Did he comply?”

  “Yes.”

  “What? He disappeared again?”

  “Not exactly. He got out his little flashlight and his mirror, but just then a cat ran by. It meowed, and everybody turned to look at it for a second. When we looked back, he was on the other side of the room. Dr. Flynn was flabbergasted. So was I. I had never seen him do that before.” Her eyes were bright as a squirrel’s.

  I couldn’t hide my skepticism. “Sounds like a pretty neat trick.”

  “Dr. B, do you know anyone else who can do that trick?”

  “Well, did prot tell him how it’s done?”

  “No. He said we’re not ‘ready’ for light-travel.”

  “I figured as much.”

  Another bite and the cheek swelled up again. “Then the physicist jumped in. That got pretty hairy. She asked prot about all kinds of alpha and omega stuff. I’ll have to do some studying to figure it all out. But one thing I understood.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You ever hear of quarks?”

  “They’re supposed to be the fundamental particles of atomic nuclei, aren’t they?”

  “Mm-hm. But inside of them are smaller particles and inside of them still smaller ones.”

  “Good God. Where does it all end?”

  “It doesn’t.”

  “What did the physicist think of all this?”

  “She wanted the details.”

  “Did prot give her any?”

  “Nope. He said that would spoil the fun of discovering them for herself.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t know any of the details. Maybe
he’s just speculating.”

  “He knows enough to travel at superlight speed!”

  “Maybe. Anything else?”

  “That’s about it. They left a thick notebook of additional questions for prot to consider.”

  I told her about my suspicion that he only had until September 20 to answer them. She nodded unhappily. “And what about the letters? Has prot said anything about the letters?”

  “He’s finished with them. He gave them back to me.”

  “He doesn’t want them?”

  “Whatever he wanted from them is in his head somewhere. Of course more keep coming in. He gets some every day.”

  “And where are the old ones?”

  “They’re on the little table you gave me to use as a desk.” She drew out and emphasized the word “little.” “You want to read them?”

  “Isn’t it illegal for me to read them?”

  “Not if he gives you permission.”

  “Would he do that, do you think?”

  “He already has. I’ll put them on the big desk in your office.”

  “Not all of them. Just leave me a representative sample. By the way—the faculty thinks the idea of a trip to the zoo is a pretty good one. Can you contact the officials over there and set it up?”

  “I know someone who works there. All I need from you is a definite date.”

  “Gino! Long time no see!”

  “It’s only been two days, prot.”

  “That’s a long time. You can get halfway across some GALAXIES in two of your days.”

  “Maybe you could.”

  “So could you if you wanted to badly enough. But you’re more concerned with other things. The stock market, for example.”

  “But you won’t tell us how to do it.”

  “I just did.”

  “Uh-huh. Anything else you feel like telling me before we begin?”

  “I think some of my correspondents would enjoy a long voyage.”

  “Who wants to go, for example?” I casually asked him.

  “Your humor still needs work, gene.”

  “I mean in general.”

  “Those who are unhappy here on EARTH.”

  “That’s not much help.”

  He shrugged.

  “All right. Are you finished with your grape juice?”

  “Yep. Amazing stuff. Nothing in the UNIVERSE purpler than grape juice.”

  “Okay. Remember the whistle?”

  “Of course. But that won’t be necessary, Dr. Brewer.”

  The transition had been so subtle that I barely noticed the slight change in voice and manner, especially with the purple mustache across his upper lip. “Robert?”

  “Yes.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “I don’t know. Strange. Shaky. Not too bad, I guess.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. Tell me—can you come out whenever you want to now?”

  “I always could. I just—couldn’t.”

  “I understand. Will you be able to stay here for a while?”

  “If you like.”

  “Good. As I told you under hypnosis, this is your safe haven. Please try to remember that. Now—is there anything you especially want to talk about today? Anything bothering you right this minute?”

  “I miss my wife and my little girl.”

  I was astonished by this simple sentence. Coming from anyone else it would have been routine and long overdue. But I thought it might take weeks to get him to talk about his family. This was a profound change. How much courage it must have taken for Robert to say it! “I’d like to hear more about them if you’re ready to tell me.”

  His eyes drifted away and became moist and dreamy. It was as if he wanted to dwell lovingly on a delightful subject for a moment before beginning. At last he said, “We had a wonderful place in the country, with a garden and a small orchard. None of the trees had produced any fruit yet, but they would have in another year or two. We had five whole acres with a hedgerow and a small pond and a stream and lots of maples and birches. Prot told me it reminded him of K-PAX, except there’s hardly any water there. The whole thing was full of life. Birds and rabbits and groundhogs and some goldfish in the pond. We had daffodils and tulips and forsythia. It was beautiful in the spring and fall. And the winter, too, when the snow came. Sally loved winter. We used to do some cross-country skiing and Becky liked to skate around on the little pond. She loved all the birds and the other animals, too. She fed the deer. The house wasn’t very big, but it was just about right for us. Sally couldn’t have any more children....” He paused for a few moments, remembering.

  “We had a big fireplace and Becky had her own room with flowered wallpaper and enough space for all her things. She had some pictures taped to the walls. Rockstars, I guess. I never got much into rock and roll. The kitchen—” He broke off suddenly and his jaw seemed to clamp shut. “The kitchen—”

  “That’s all right, Rob. We can come back to the kitchen later.”

  “Why should we do that? Are you still hungry?”

  “Prot! Where’s Robert?”

  “He’s right here, collecting himself. Didn’t I tell you to be more gentle with him?”

  “Listen, my alien friend. I know what I’m doing. Robert has made remarkable progress since you’ve been back. Give him a chance.”

  He shrugged. “Just don’t push too hard, doc. He’s dancing as fast as he can.”

  “Are you going to let him come back, or not?”

  “Just give him a minute or two. He’s been trying to forget everything for a long time. It’s hard for him to cough it up on demand.”

  “I haven’t demanded anything.”

  “Could we talk about something else for a while?”

  It took me a moment to realize that Robert had returned. “Whatever you want to talk about is fine with me, Rob.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Let’s go back a little. Would you like to tell me more about your boyhood? Last time we stopped when you were twelve, I believe.”

  “Twelve. I was in the seventh grade.”

  “Did you like school?”

  “I hate to admit it, but I loved it.”

  “Why do you hate to admit it?”

  “Everybody’s supposed to hate school. But I liked it. I remember the seventh grade because that was the first year we went to different rooms for different classes.”

  “What classes did you like best?”

  “General science. Biology. We had a field and woods behind our house, and I used to walk around there and try to identify all the different trees and things. That was great.”

  “Did you do that with a friend? Or one of your sisters?”

  “No, I usually went by myself.”

  “Did you like to be by yourself?”

  “I didn’t mind. But I had friends, too. We played basketball and messed around together. Smoked cigarettes up in the tree house. But none of them cared about my field or the woods. So I usually went there by myself. I can still remember the way the trees smelled on a hot summer day, or the ground after a rain. The crickets at night. I saw deer sometimes early in the mornings and around sunset. I watched them and found out where they slept. They didn’t know I was watching them. I used to go there in the evenings sometimes and wait for them to wake up, and then I’d see where they would go.”

  “What about Sally? Did you know her then?”

  “Yes. Ever since first grade.”

  “What did you think of her?”

  “I thought she was the prettiest girl in school. She had hair like the sun.”

  “Did you talk to her much?”

  “No. I wanted to, but I was too shy. Anyway, she didn’t pay much attention to me. She was a cheerleader and everything.”

  “When did she first begin to pay some attention to you?”

  “When we were juniors. I was on the wrestling team. She started coming to the matches. I couldn’t figure out why she did that, but I tried
very hard to impress her.”

  “Did you succeed?”

  “I guess so. One day she told me she thought I had some good moves. That was when I asked her to go to the movies with me. It was our first date.”

  “What did you see?”

  “The Sting.”

  “That’s a terrific film.”

  Rob nodded. “I’ll never forget it.”

  “When was your next date?”

  “Not for quite a while.”

  “Why not?”

  “Like I said, I was shy. Sally had other friends. I wasn’t sure she liked me that much. I couldn’t understand why she would.”

  “How did you find out she did?”

  “If you’ve ever lived in a small town you know how word gets around. She told someone, and she told someone, and so on until it got back to me that she liked me a lot and wanted to go out with me again.”

  “So you finally asked her for another date?”

  “Not exactly. She finally gave up and asked me.”

  “What did you think about that?”

  “I liked it. I liked her. She was so friendly and outgoing. When she was with you she made you feel like you were the only other person in the world.”

  “And eventually you fell in love with her.”

  “I think I was always in love with her. I used to dream about her all the time.”

  “You got the girl of your dreams!”

  Thoughtfully: “Yes, I guess I did.” He produced a sickly smile. “I’m lucky, aren’t I?”

  “Do you remember any of the dreams?”

  “I—I don’t think so....”

  “All right. We’ll talk about that some other time. When did you ask Sally to marry you?”

  “On graduation day.”

  “From high school.”

  “Yes.”

  “Weren’t there some problems associated with that? Didn’t you want to go to college?”

  “She was pregnant.”

  “She was carrying your child?”

  “No.”