Kesley remained slumped on the couch. "You shouldn't have tried to attack me, Dale. I'm here to help you."
"How?" Kesley asked tonelessly.
"I'm here to show you the way back to your home."
"My home's in Kansas Province." Stubbornly.
"Your home is in Antarctica, Dale. You might as well admit it to yourself now."
Strangely, the words had little effect on Kesley. He had already been shocked past any point of surprise.
For four years, he had been persuading himself that he had come from Kansas Province. He had gone on thinking that, all the while subliminally aware that there was no rational reason for that belief, that he had no memories of his earlier life whatever.
Kansas Province had seemed as likely a homeland as any, and he had clung to the idea. As each year passed, it had seemed more and more the truth to him—until van Alen came.
Now he was ready to believe anything. The barriers were down.
"Antarctica?" he repeated.