"You didn't?"
"No. In fact I told them I can only take one person back with me."
"I don't think you should be making promises you can't keep."
"I have promised nothing." He bit into a huge strawberry from a bowlful brought in from her garden in Hoboken by Mrs. Trexler.
I was famished. My mouth was watering. This time I joined him. Chewing hungrily, we glared at each other for several minutes like prizefighters sizing up an opponent. "Tell me," I said. "If you can leave here any time you want, why do you stay?"
He swallowed a mouthful of berries, took a deep breath. "Well, it's as good a place as any to write my report, you feed me every day, and the fruit is wonderful. Besides," he added impishly, "I like you."
"Well enough to stay put for a while?"
"Until august seventeenth."
"Good. Now let's get started, shall we?"
"Certainly."
"All right. Can you draw a star map showing the night sky from anywhere in the galaxy? From Sirius, say?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I have never been there."
"But you can do so for all the places you've been?"
"Naturally."
"Will you do a few of those for me before the next session?"
"No problem."
"Good. Now-where have you really been the past few days?"
"I told you: newfoundland, labrador-"
"Uh-huh. And how are you feeling after your long journey?"
"Very well, thank you. And how have you been, narr?"
"Nam"
"Gene, on K-PAX, is 'nary'." It rhymed with "hair."
"I see. Is that from the French, meaning 'to confess'?"
"No, it is from the pax-o, meaning 'one who doubts.'"
"Oh. And what would 'prot' be in English-one who is cocksure?"
"Nope. 'Prot' is derived from an ancient K-PAXian word for 'sojourner.' Believe it or not by ripley."
"If I asked you to translate something from English to pax-o for me, something like Hamlet, for example, could you do it?"
"Of course. When would you like to have it?"
"Whenever you can get to it."
"Next week okay?"
"Fine. Now then. We've talked quite a bit about the sciences on K-PAX. Tell me about the arts on your planet."
"You mean painting and music? Stuff like that?"
"Painting, music, sculpture, dance, literature ..."
The usual smile broke out, and the fingers came together. "It is similar in some ways to the arts on EARTH.
But remember that we have had several billion years longer to develop them than you have. Our music is not based on anything as primitive as notes, nor any of our arts on subjective vision."
"Not based on notes? How else-"
"It is continuous."
"Can you give me an example?" With that he tore a sheet of paper from his little notebook and began to draw something on it.
While he did so I asked him why, with all his talents and capabilities, he needed to keep a written record of his observations. "Isn't it obvious?" he replied. "What if something happens to me before I get back to K-PAX?" He then showed me the following:
(GRAPHIC)
"This is one of my favorites. I learned it as a boy." As I tried to make sense out of the score, or whatever it was, he added, "You can see why I'm rather partial to your john cage."
"Can you hum a few bars of this thing?"
"You know I can't sing. Besides, it doesn't break down into 'tunes.' "
"May I keep this?"
"Consider it a souvenir of my visit."
"Thank you. Now. You said that your arts are not based on 'subjective vision.' What does that mean?"
"It means. we don't have what you call 'fiction.' "
"Why not?"
"What's the point?"
"Well, through fiction, one often gains an understanding of truth."
"Why beat around the bush? Why not go right for the truth in the first place?"
"Truth means different things to different people."
"Truth is truth. What you are talking about is make believe. Dream worlds. Tell me"-he bent over the notebook-"why do human beings have the peculiar impression that a belief is the same as the truth?"
"Because sometimes the truth hurts. Sometimes we need to believe in a better truth."
"What better truth can there be than truth?"
"There may be more than one kind of truth."
Prot continued to scribble in his notebook. "There is only one truth. Truth is absolute. You can't escape it, no matter how far you run." He said this rather wistfully, it seemed to me.
"There's another factor, too," I countered. "Our beliefs are based on incomplete and conflicting experiences. We need help to sort things out. Maybe you can help us."
He looked up in surprise. "How?"
"Tell me more about your life on K-PAX."
"What else would you like to know?"
"Tell me about your friends and acquaintances there."
"All K-PAXians are my friends. Except there is no word for 'friend' in pax-o. Or 'enemy.' "
"Tell me about some of them. Whoever comes to mind."
"Well, there is brot, and mano, and swon, and fled, and-"
"Who is brot?"
"He lives in the woods RILLward of reldo. Mano is-"
"Reldo?"
"A village near the purple mountains."
"And brot lives there?"
"In the woods."
"Why?"
"Because orfs usually live in the woods."
"What's an orf?"
"Orfs are something between our species and trods. Trods are much like your chimpanzees, only bigger."
"You mean orfs are subhuman?"
"Another of your famous contradictions in terms. But if you mean is he a forebear, the answer is yes. You see, we did not destroy our immediate progenitors as you did on EARTH."
"And you consider the orfs to be your friends?"
"Of course."
"What do you call your own species, by the way?"
"Dremers."
"And how many progenitors are there between trods and dremers?"
"Seven."
"And they are all still in existence on K-PAX?"
"Mais oui!"
"What are they like?"
"They are beautiful."
"Do you have to take care of them in some way?"
"Only clean up after them, sometimes. Otherwise they take care of themselves, as all beings do."
"Do they speak? Can you understand them?"
"Certainly. All beings 'speak.' You just have to know their language."
"Okay. Go on."
"Mano is quiet. She spends most of her time studying our insects. Swon is soft and green. Fled is-"
"Green?"
"Of course. Swon is an em. Something like your tree frogs, only they are as big as dogs."
"You call frogs by name?"
"How else would you refer to them?"
"Are you telling me you have names for all the frogs on K-PAX?"
"Of course not. Only the ones I know."
"You know a lot of lower animals?"
"They are not 'lower.' Just different."
"How do these species compare with those we have on Earth?"
"You have more variety, but, on the other hand, we have no carnivores. And," he beamed, "no flies, no mosquitoes, no cockroaches."
"Sounds too good to be true."
"Oh, it's true all right, believe me."
"Let's get back to the people."
"There are no 'people' on K-PAX."
"I meant the beings of your own species. The-uhdremers."
"As you wish."
"Tell me more about your friend mano."
"I told you: She is fascinated by the behavior of the horns."
"Tell me more about her."
"She has soft brown hair and a smooth forehead and she likes to make things."
"Do you get along well with her?"
"Of course."
"Better than with other K-PAXians?"
"I get along well with everyone."
"Aren't there a few of your fellow dremers that you get along with-that you like-better than others?"