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"But this evacuation isn't simulated. It's real."
"We know that. But we thought we could use it as a model."
"A form of practice? Are you saying you saw a chance to use the real event in order to rehearse the simulation?"
“Blasphemy takes the latest theories of physics and pits them against the ancient religious beliefs that they now threaten, in an explosive, hell-bent and finally deeply moving book that I doubt I will ever forget. It literally made me pace as I contemplated the ideas that crackle through these pages, and it gave me pause as I realized that the physics here is so close to reality that the face of God that appears in this book may soon be, in real life, before us all.” Whitley Strieber
"Preston has taken a fascinating concept and implemented it brilliantly. It's one of those books you think and talk about after you've finished it. I loved the characters. Even the sleazy ones were well-done. Science meets religion with a side order of politics. The mixture is explosive!”—Larry Bond, New York Times bestselling author of Dangerous Ground
Originally posted by AccessDenied
Ask Crakeur (Unless I'm really talking to Crakeur right now..hehehe) LOL.
Reacher sat and waited. The room was silent. No talking. No sounds at all, except for the quiet metallic clash of silverware on plates and the smack of people chewing and the ceramic click of cups being lowered carefully into saucers and the wooden creak of chair legs under shifting bodies. Those tiny noises rose up and echoed around the vast tiled space until they seemed overwhelmingly loud.
Nothing happened for close to ten minutes.
Then an old crew-cab pick-up truck slid to a stop on the curb outside the door. There was a second's pause and four guys climbed out and stood together on the sidewalk outside the restaurant's door. They grouped themselves into a tight little formation and paused another beat and came inside. They paused again and scanned the room and found their target. They headed straight for Reacher's table. Three of them sat down in the empty chairs and the fourth stood at the head of the table, blocking Reacher's exit.
The four guys were each a useful size. The shortest was probably an inch under six feet and the lightest was maybe an ounce over two hundred pounds. They all had walnut knuckles and thick wrists and knotted forearms. Two of them had broken noses and none of them had all their teeth. They all looked pale and vaguely unhealthy. They were all grimy, with ingrained gray dirt in the folds of their skin that glittered and shone like metal. They were all dressed in canvas work shirts with their sleeves rolled to their elbows. They were all somewhere between thirty and forty. And they all looked like trouble.
"I don't want company," Reacher said. "I prefer to eat alone."
The guy standing at the head of the table was the biggest of the four, by maybe an inch and ten pounds. He said, "You're not going to eat at all."
Reacher said, "I'm not?"
"Not here, anyway."
"I heard this was the only show in town."
"You need to get going."
"Out of here."
"Out of where?"
"Out of this restaurant."
"You want to tell me why?"
"We don't like strangers."
"Me either," Reacher said. "But I need to eat somewhere. Otherwise I'll get all wasted and skinny like you four."
"Just calling it like it is," Reacher said. He put his forearms on the table. He had thirty pounds and three inches on the big guy, and more than that on the other three. And he was willing to bet he had a little more experience and a little less inhibition than any one of them. Or than all of them put together. But ultimately, if it came to it, it was going to be his two hundred and fifty pounds against their cumulative nine hundred. Not great odds. But Reacher hated turning back.
The guy that was standing said, "We don't want you here."
Reacher said, "You're confusing me with someone who gives a # what you want."
"You won't get served in here."
"Not a hope."
"You could order for me."
"And then what?"
"Then I could eat your lunch."
© Lee Child
[edit on 4/8/2008 by Kaiser Sohse]
Solomon Gursky Was Here is a novel by Canadian author Mordecai Richler first published Viking Canada in 1989. It tells of several generations of the fictional Gursky family, said to have been inspired by the Bronfmans, who are connected to several disparate events in the history of Canada, including the Franklin Expedition and rum-running.
Some fans and critics have cited this as Mordecai Richler's best book, and in terms of scope and style it is unmatched by his other works. The tale centres around Moses Berger, an alcoholic failed writer who is obsessed with Solomon Gursky, the brother of Bernard and Morrie and absent from the family empire after a fatal plane crash. Perhaps it was his disappointment with his own father that put him on the trail of Solomon, a character as strong-willed as he was mysterious.