Man Facing Southeast Page #3

Adolfo Bioy Casares, 1940.

If Rantes had written his story

instead of telling me,

he could have become a famous writer,

instead of the lunatic

I hoped to unmask.

Okay. Rantes could have been

a physicist

or read ''Morel's Invention. ''

But what would that prove?

Take it easy.

There are only two alternatives.

Either Rantes is crazy

or he's from another planet.

No, old man.

There cannot be

two alternatives.

- What is it?

- The report on Rantes' fingerprints.

- I don't understand.

- They're not on file.

He doesn't exist.

- Any explanations?

- A Uruguayan...

who suddenly turned up

here would have no records.

He always looks in

the same direction.

He always orients himself

in the same direction

between the water tank and

Pavillion 6.

What direction is that?

- Which way is north?

- There.

Then he faces towards the south.

South...

- Southeast... right?

- Yes, southeast.

Southeast.

And why not southwest?

Or north?

- Southeast.

- What does he say?

That he receives and

transmits information.

Whatever it is... on that line...

there must be some

clue to his past.

We're changing the medication

for the patient in bed 7, Rantes.

He is delirious and he's not improving.

We'll try to depress him.

I want a daily report, O.K.?

He's a good man,

he comes from far away.

Everyone seems to like you.

I thought about what you told me

that you couldn't feel.

What about that?

Can we chat?

How about some coffee?

My projection includes all

the information to do many things.

To play Bach... and other things

that would surprise you.

To me, it's only information.

Why do psychiatrists lean back

when they listen?

They think it's contagious?

Forgive me. It's just a habit.

Now, Rantes...

- You gave that patient your coat.

- He was cold.

What compelled you to give him

your coat?

- He was cold.

- Stop bullshitting me, Rantes.

You felt something for that man.

No, it's a totally rational reaction.

If someone is cold, I help.

You're programmed for that.

- Do you have hallucinations?

- No, you do.

I'm one of your hallucinations.

You're a complete lunatic.

But you're a very special lunatic.

You worry me.

You really do.

I appreciate your worrying about me.

It's not customary to care about

someone else here.

In this hospital?

On this planet.

What about yours?

Tell me about that.

Where did you live?

In a town?

In a city?

No data found. That information

is unavailable. Ask again.

I don't want to deceive you.

I could describe any town, any city...

That would be deceiving you.

It wouldn't be a town

as you understand it...

nor would it be

the past you're seeking.

You're my past... this moment...

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