Man Facing Southeast

MAN FACING SOUTHEAS

To My Father

Mirta... my love...

I fired twice, as we agreed.

There were two bullets left for me.

I put the revolver here

and fired the other two shots...

Then I couldn't see anything.

I could only hear her moan.

She was suffering...

I wanted to help her, but

there were no more bullets.

I couldn't see through the blood.

I heard her, but I didn't know

where she was.

The blood gushed from me like water

from a broken pipe...

She was gone.

We'd agreed to die together.

She had bought the gun.

I failed her.

How could it be?

You must help me.

He thinks I can help?

I fired twice...

A priest could help more.

There were two bullets left for me.

He'll never rid himself

of those images.

I'll sedate him.

Soon he'll disappear among the rest.

He'll be on more,

but he'll never be himself.

As we agreed.

How would he react if

I touched his hand?

She was moaning...

It would show affection,

tenderness.

My God... How he must need it.

But he can't expect that from me.

I put the revolver here and

fired the other two shots.

Neither do I.

I could only hear her moan.

She was suffering.

Poor fool.

He doesn't realize

he's being punished.

A prolonged agony.

I wanted to help her, but

there were no more bullets.

You didn't save yourself.

Welcome to Hell.

Don't worry, we'll help you.

Excuse me, Doctor. How

many patients have you?

- Check the registry.

- I have checked.

- There should be 32.

- Has someone escaped?

Just the opposite.

There's one too many.

I checked the other wards.

Everything's in order.

Nobody's missing.

No new patients have been admitted.

- When did you discover this?

- This morning.

- Which one?

- He must be outside.

He's in the chapel. He's a good man.

He comes from far away.

It's only a series of vibrations,

but they have a good effect

on the men.

Where does the magic lie?

In the instruments?

In the one that wrote it?

In me?

In those that hear it?

I cannot understand what they feel.

Yes, I can understand.

I just can't feel it.

Do you understand?

Excuse me. I am Rantes.

How did you get here?

To earth?

In a spaceship.

You're a Martian.

Doctor, that is an insult.

You are an intelligent man.

Do you always underestimate

your patients like this?

Are you a patient?

No, but I'm not a Martian.

I come from far away...

from another world.

It's pointless to explain.

You wouldn't believe me anyway.

But you came in a spaceship

and landed right here...

in our courtyard.

No.

Coordinates 34 degrees latitude south,

In a field, near a place called

Junin, I believe.

I shouldn't reveal so much information.

All right, Rantes, or whoever you are...

We're alone... We're not the police.

You're involved in something shady

and want to hide out here.

You're not the first,

who would look here, right?

Look, I don't care what you've done,

but don't waste my time.

If you stay, I'll have

to contact the police.

You know the best way to protect

my mission?

Telling the truth.

Who's going to believe it?

And the best place to tell the truth

is this.

Anywhere else, you know

what would happen?

They would bring me here.

I would be back here telling you

the same things.

If you're gone tomorrow,

no one will say anything.

If you stay....

Do you know what you're in for?

I know the methods,

all the methods that you humans use.

I think he's faking.

Tomorrow he may be gone.

If he stays, just in case,

give him a sedative.

- What about his file, Doctor?

- Put...

Unidentified Flying Patient,

until we find out his name.

Dr. Denis, this is

Dr. Gimenez's secretary.

I'm confirming the interview

on Tuesday at 3.00.

Julio, it's Nolasco. I'm calling about

the clinic. Give me a call.

Ciao, a hug.

Horrible machine, tell my Daddy

when you see him

that I called to tell him that

Saturday, when he comes to see us,

to take Consuelo and me

to see the Moscow Circus.

Buy the tickets.

Bye, machine.

A kiss to Daddy.

If Rantes was faking it, the lengths

that he went to made him sick.

He sat for hours without moving,

without blinking. Totally isolated.

Immersed in someplace, I began

to suspect that was too far away,

but not outwards, as he said,

but inwards.

Rantes, what do you do in the gardens?

You spend hours without moving.

I receive and transmit information.

I told you I need to learn

your identity.

The police will come to take

your fingerprints.

- I hope it doesn't bother you.

- No.

I would find that amusing.

It's just... if my prints

should match

someone who's dead, don't be scared.

Rantes, do you believe

that could happen?

I mean, do you... believe that you

could be dead

and be here, in front of me?

Yes. Not in such simple terms,

of course.

But... in reality most of these men

are dead but they're here...

Sometimes in front of you.

They're dead in what way?

What do you think?

You are a sincere son of a b*tch,

a faking son of a b*tch,

which is even crazier.

My mother would find

your statements amusing.

What's her name?

We have no mother. At least

they never told us.

- You're a robot.

- No.

You are all robots.

You just haven't realized it.

All right.

I'm a robot. What are you?

- You wouldn't understand.

- Try me.

You are in the prehistory

of the holograms.

Holograms?

Yes. A type of photograph

obtained through a laser beam.

It's an experiment done

in our physics laboratories.

We have been able...

How can I explain?

To have those images

take shape in space

through what you would call

a large projector

programmed with a highly

complex computer

to include the vital information

for that image to be alive.

Let's see... You're telling me

that you are a projection.

In a way.

I... my spaceship... We are as images

projected in space.

I say ''images'' for your benefit,

because, in reality, I could

do without your eyes.

You could close them.

I'd still exist.

I breathe. You can touch me,

I can touch you.

We are perfect human replicas.

Except for one detail.

We cannot feel.

''I cannot feel. ''

That was one of the most

moving confessions.

I'd ever heard from a patient.

I hadn't been feeling much

for my profession.

I hadn't been so interested in a patient

in a long time.

And I hadn't been happy

in a long time.

Soon they would take his fingerprints.

I guessed that Rantes had been

a mathematician... maybe a physicist.

He had mentioned a physics laboratory.

This is a hologram.

The laser bounces off the object leaving

its impression on the plate.

Then, to reconstruct the image

we use another laser.

- Is this an experiment?

- It's a laboratory experience.

The object is registered indirectly

on the photographic plate. Understand?

The hologram represents

the object in code.

Could people be photographed

and projected in space?

For example, projecting a person here

so that person would seem reel?

It could be done with pulsating lasers,

but it would just be the image

of its outward appearance

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