Stanisław Lem - Solaris

“Let me see that paper, Kelvin…”

I handed it to him. He peered at it, trying to make sense of my scribblings.

“What’s that?” He pointed with his finger.

I took the paper back.

“That’s the field transmutation tensor.”

“Let me have it…”

“What do you need it for?” I asked. I knew what he’d say.

“I have to show Sartorius.”

“As you wish,” I replied indifferently. “You can take it. The point is, no one has tested this experimentally; we’ve never known these kinds of systems before. He believes in Frazer, I followed Siona in my calculations. He’ll tell you I’m not a physicist and that Siona isn’t either. At least not in his estimation. But that’s a matter for discussion. I’ve no wish to engage in a debate that could result in my being vaporized, to the greater glory of Sartorius. You I can convince, but not him. And I’m not going to try.”

“So what do you mean to do…? He’s working on it,” said Snaut in a toneless voice. He hunched over; all his liveliness was gone. I didn’t know if he trusted me, but I no longer cared.

“What a person does when someone’s trying to kill him,” I replied quietly.

“I’ll try and get in touch with him. Maybe he’s planning some safety measures,” murmured Snaut. He raised his eyes to me: “Listen, maybe the first project after all…? Hm? Sartorius would agree. For sure. It’s… at least… a shot…”

“Do you believe that?”

“No,” he replied at once. “But… how could it hurt?”

I didn’t want to agree too readily, since that was what I wanted. He was becoming my ally in playing for time.

“I’ll think about it,” I said.

“All right, I’m off,” he mumbled, getting up. His bones cracked as he rose from the chair. “So you’ll let us make an encephalogram of you?” he asked, rubbing his apron with his fingers as if he were trying to erase an unseen stain.

“OK,” I said. Without looking at Harey (who was watching the scene silently, her book on her lap), he went to the door. When it closed behind him I stood up. I unfolded the paper I held in my hand. The formulas were good. I hadn’t doctored them. Though I’m not sure Siona would have recognized my solution. Probably not. I gave a start. Harey had come up behind me and touched me on the shoulder.

“Kris!”

“What is it, darling?”

“Who was that?”

“I told you. Dr. Snaut.”

“What kind of a person is he?”

“I don’t know him that well. Why do you ask?”

“He was looking at me in this strange way…”

“He probably found you attractive.”

“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “It wasn’t that kind of look. He was looking at me as if… as if he…”

She shuddered, raised her eyes at me then lowered them right away.

“Let’s go somewhere else…”

I had been lying in the dark room, in a trance, staring at the illuminated face of the watch on my wrist, for I don’t know how long. I was listening to my own breathing and feeling surprised at something, but all of this — the staring at the greenish ring of figures, and the surprise — was steeped in an indifference I put down to exhaustion. I turned on my side. The bed was oddly wide, something was missing. I held my breath. There was absolute silence. I froze. Not the slightest whisper came from anywhere. Harey? Why couldn’t I hear her breathing? I felt the bedding with my hand: I was alone.

“Harey!” I was about to call out, but I heard footsteps. It was someone large and heavy, like…

“Gibarian?” I said calmly.

“Yes, it’s me. Don’t turn the light on.”

“Really?”

“There’s no need. That way it’ll be better for both of us.”

“But you’re dead?”

“It doesn’t matter. I mean, you do recognize my voice?”

“Yes. Why did you do it?”

“I had to. You were four days late. If you’d gotten here sooner it might not have been necessary. But don’t feel bad. I’m fine.”

“Are you really here?”

“Oh, you think you’re dreaming, like you thought about Harey?”

“Where is she?”

“What makes you think I know?”

“I’m guessing you do.”

“Keep that thought to yourself. Let’s just say I’m here instead of her.”

“I want her to be here as well.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Why not? Look, you do know that really it’s not you, it’s me, right?”

“No. It’s really me. If you wanted to be pedantic you could say it’s me again. But let’s not waste words.”

“Will you go away?”

“Yes.”

“And then she’ll come back?”

“Is that what you want? What is she to you?”

“That’s my business.”

“But you’re afraid of her.”

“No, I’m not.”

“And disgusted by her…”

“What do you want from me?”

“You can feel sorry for yourself, but not for her. She’s always going to be twenty years old. Don’t pretend you don’t know that!”

All of a sudden, I have no idea why, I calmed down. I listened to him with equanimity. I had the impression he was standing ever closer, at the foot of the bed, but I still couldn’t see anything in the darkness.

“What are you after?” I asked quietly. My tone seemed to surprise him. He was silent for a moment.

“Sartorius has convinced Snaut that you hoodwinked him. Now they’re doing the same to you. They’re pretending to assemble the X-ray equipment but they’re actually building a field annihilator.”

“Where is she?” I asked.

“Did you not hear what I just said to you? I’m trying to warn you!”

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know. Listen up: you’ll need a weapon. You can’t count on anyone.”

“I can count on Harey,” I said. I heard a low rapid sound. He was laughing.

“Sure you can. Up to a certain point. In the end you can always do what I did.”

“You’re not Gibarian.”

“How do you like that. And who am I? A dream of yours maybe?”

“No. Their puppet. But you don’t know it.”

“And how do you know who you are!”

That made me think. I wanted to get up but I couldn’t. Gibarian was saying something. I couldn’t understand the words, I only heard the sound of his voic.; I was struggling desperately with the weakness of the flesh. I made one more colossal effort, jerked my body… and woke up. I gasped for air like a half-suffocated fish. It was completely dark. It had been a dream. A nightmare. But just a moment… “a dilemma we’re not able to resolve. We persecute our own selves. All Polytheria did was apply a kind of selective amplifier to our thoughts. Seeking a motivation for this is anthropomorphism. Where there are no humans, there are none of the motives available to humans. To continue the projected research we’d have had to destroy either our own thoughts or their material realization. The former is beyond our powers. The latter looks too much like murder.”

In the darkness I listened to the distant, measured voice that I had recognized at once: it was Gibarian. I stretched out my hand. The bed was empty.

I’ve woken into another dream, I thought.

“Gibarian…?” I said. The voice broke off at once in mid-word. There was a soft click and I felt a faint puff of air on my face.

“Really, Gibarian,” I muttered with a yawn. “Following someone from one dream into another, come off it…”

There was a rustling sound next to me.

“Gibarian!” I repeated more loudly.

The bedsprings moved.

“Kris… It’s me…,” came a whisper right by me.

“Oh, it’s you, Harey… Where’s Gibarian?”