The Ninth Configuration by William Peter Blatty (English) Paperback Book

Description: The Ninth Configuration by William Peter Blatty Hidden away in a brooding Gothic manor in the deep woods is Centre Eighteen, a secret military "rest camp" currently housing twenty-seven inmates, all officers who have succumbed to a sudden outbreak of mental illness. FORMAT Paperback LANGUAGE English CONDITION Brand New Publisher Description Hidden away in a brooding Gothic manor in the deep woods is Centre Eighteen, a secret military "rest camp" currently housing twenty-seven inmates, all officers who have succumbed to a sudden outbreak of mental illness. Have the men truly lost their minds, are they only pretending to be insane to avoid combat, or is some more sinister conspiracy at work? Desperate for answers, the Pentagon has placed a brilliant Marine psychiatrist in charge of the base and its deranged occupants. A man of deep faith and compassion, Colonel Kane hopes to uncover the root of the mens bizarre obsessions. But as Centre Eighteen descends into chaos, Kane finds the greatest challenge may be his own buried demons... Author Biography William Peter Blatty is a writer and filmmaker. "The Exo William Peter Blatty is a writer and filmmaker. "The Exo William Peter Blatty is a writer and filmmaker. "The Exo William Peter Blatty is a writer and filmmaker. "The Exo William Peter Blatty is a writer and filmmaker. "The Exorcist", written in 1971, is his magnum opus; he also penned rcist", written in 1971, is his magnum opus; he also penned rcist", written in 1971, is his magnum opus; he also penned rcist", written in 1971, is his magnum opus; he also penned rcist", written in 1971, is his magnum opus; he also penned the Review "Its a metaphysical murder mystery and a cosmic love story. You have never read anything quite like it." --Santa Monica Evening Outlook"Fasten your seat belt before opening this book!" --Associated Press"A work of extraordinary imagination." --San Antonio Express Review Quote "Its a metaphysical murder mystery and a cosmic love story. You have never read anything quite like it." -- Santa Monica Evening Outlook "Fasten your seat belt before opening this book!" -- Associated Press "A work of extraordinary imagination." -- San Antonio Express Excerpt from Book ONE The mansion was isolated and Gothic, massive, trapped in a wood, grotesque. It crouched beneath the stars under clustered spires like something enormous and deformed, unable to hide, wanting to sin. Its gargoyles grinned at the forest pressing in on it thickly all around. For a time nothing moved. Dawn sifted in. Thin fall sunlight pried at the morning entombed within the arborescent gloom, and fog curled up from rotted leaves like departing souls, dry and weak. In the breeze, a creaking shutter moaned for Duncan and a haunted crow coughed hoarsely in a meadow far away. Then silence. Waiting. * * * The voice of a man from within the mansion carried with firm conviction, startling a small green heron from the moat. "Robert Browning had the clap and he caught it from Charlotte and Emily Brontë." A second man, angry, bellowed, "Cutshaw, shut your mouth!" "He caught it from both of them." " Shut up, you crazy bastard! " "You dont want to hear the truth." "Krebs, sound assembly!" the angry man ordered. Then a military bugling shattered the air, ripping into the fog, and an American flag, fluttering defiance, leaped up a pole atop a spire. Twenty-seven men in green fatigues exploded like shrapnel from the mansion and hurtled out to the center of its courtyard, muttering and mumbling and crooking their elbows, dress-right-dress, in the forming of a military line. Above their denims some affected other dress: one wore a rapier and golden earrings; from the head of another bloomed a coonskin cap. Imprecations floated up from them like steam alive with sparks: "Hillo ho ho, boys! Come, bird, come!" "You know, I wish youd douche; sincerely." "Sink the Bismarck !" "Watch the elbow!" A man with a shaggy mongrel dog in his arms burst into the center of the line. He bawled, "My cape! Have you seen my cape?" "Hell, whats a cape?" snarled the one with the sword. "Just fucking fabric." "Fabric?" "Foolish fucking fabric." "What country is this?" asked a man at the end of the line. A blond-haired man confronted them briskly. He wore tattered and dirty black Keds, his left big toe protruding through a ho≤ and over his fatigues he flaunted a New York University sweater: on the sleeve of one arm were lettermans stripes, and on the other, a NASA astronauts patch. "Attention!" he commanded with authority. "It is I, Billy Cutshaw!" The men obeyed, then stiffly raised their arms in the salute of ancient Rome. "Captain Billy, let us serve you!" they howled into the fog; then they dropped their arms and stood unmoving, hushed, like the damned awaiting judgment. Cutshaws gaze flicked over them swiftly, flashing and mysterious, luminous and deep. At last he spoke: "Lieutenant Bennish!" "Sah!" "You may take three giant steps and kiss the hem of my garment!" " Sah!" "The hem, Bennish, mind you, the hem! " Bennish took three steps forward, then cracked his heels together resoundingly. Cutshaw measured him with reserve. "Excellent form, Bennish." "Thank you very much, sir." "Dont let it go to your fucking head. There is nothing more vile than hubris. " "Yes, sir. Youve said that many times, sir." "I know that, Bennish." Cutshaw was probing him with his gaze, as though seeking out insolence and outrage, when the man with the sword bawled, "Here comes the fuzz!" The men began booing as out from the mansion, in angry stride, marched the starched and militant figure of a major in the Marine Corps. Cutshaw scuttled into the line, and over the booing the man with the sword shouted out at the major, "Wheres my Ho Chi Minh decoder ring? I sent in the goddam boxtops, Groper; where the hells the-" " Quiet! " Groper quelled them. His little eyes seared out from a face that was pummeled beef adorned with a crew cut. He was hulking and heavy of bone. "Fucking weirdo, yellow smart-ass college pricks!" he snarled. " That says it," muttered someone in the ranks. Groper paced the rank of men, his great head lowered as though ready to charge them. "Who in the hell do you think youre kidding with your phony little squirrel act? Well, bad news, boys. Tough shit. Cause guess whos coming to take command next week! Can you guess, boys? Huh? A psychiatrist! " He was suddenly roaring, quivering with uncontrollable rage. "Thats right! The best! The best in uniform! The greatest fucking psychiatrist since Jung!" He pronounced the J. Now he stood breathing heavily, gathering air and dominion. "Fucking combat-shirking bastards! Hes coming to find out if youre really psycho!" Groper grinned, his eyes shining. "Isnt that great news, boys?" Cutshaw took one step forward. "Could we knock off this boys shit, Major, please? It makes us feel like were cocker spaniels and youre the Old Pirate in Tortilla Flat. Could we-" " Back into line! " Cutshaw squeezed a rubber horn in his hand the size of a baseball. It emitted a raucous, unpleasant sound. Groper rasped, "Cutshaw, what have you got there?" "A foghorn," answered Cutshaw. "Chinese junks have been reported in the area." "Someday Ill break your back, I promise you." "Someday Im going to leave Fort Zinderneuf; Im getting tired of propping up bodies." "I wish theyd clobbered you in space," said Groper. The men began to hiss. "Quiet!" barked Groper. The hissing grew louder. "Yeah, hissing youre good at, you slimy little snakes." "Bra- vo! Bra- vo! " commended Cutshaw, leading the men in polite applause. Others added their praise: "Good image." "Splendid, Groper! Splendid!" "Just one more thing, sir," Cutshaw began. "Whats that?" "Stick a pineapple up your ass." Cutshaw looked away. He felt a premonition. "Somebodys coming," he said. It was a prayer. Copyright © 1978 by William Peter Blatty Details ISBN0765337304 Author William Peter Blatty Short Title 9TH CONFIGURATION Publisher Tor Books Language English ISBN-10 0765337304 ISBN-13 9780765337306 Media Book Format Paperback Year 2014 Publication Date 2014-05-12 DEWEY FIC Pages 172 Imprint Tor Books Country of Publication United States Audience General/Trade We've got this At The Nile, if you're looking for it, we've got it. With fast shipping, low prices, friendly service and well over a million items - you're bound to find what you want, at a price you'll love! TheNile_Item_ID:117876386;

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