Viktor talked about himself greedily and at length. He was like an invalid who thinks of his illness day and night.
Then he grimaced and shrugged his shoulders.
'I keep remembering that conversation of ours about a mixing-tub and all the scum that comes up to the surface… Never in my life have I been surrounded by so much filth. And what's particularly painful, almost unbearable, is that for some reason all this has to coincide with the Russian victories.'
He looked Chepyzhin in the eye.
'What do you think? Is that just coincidence?'
Chepyzhin had an extraordinary face. It was simple, coarse, with high cheekbones and a snub nose, the face of a peasant – yet at the same time so fine and intelligent as to be the envy of any Englishman, even Lord Kelvin.
'Wait till the war's over,' he answered gloomily. 'Then we'll know what's coincidence and what isn't.'
'The swine may have finished me off by then. Tomorrow my fate's being decided by the Scientific Council. That is, it's already been decided by the Institute authorities and the Party Committee. The Scientific Council's just a formality. You know – the voice of the people, the demands of the community.'
It was strange talking to Chepyzhin – the things they were discussing were very painful, but somehow it wasn't in the least depressing.
'And I thought they'd be offering you everything you wanted on a silver platter – on a golden platter,' said Chepyzhin.
'Why? I've been "dragging science into the swamp of Talmudic abstraction", cutting it off from reality.'
'Yes, I know,' said Chepyzhin. 'It's amazing. You know, sometimes a man loves a woman. She's what gives his life meaning, she's his happiness, his joy, his passion. But for some reason all this is considered almost indecent; he has to pretend he sleeps with her simply because she prepares his meals, darns his socks and washes his clothes.'
He held up his hands, the fingers spread, in front of his face. They too were extraordinary – powerful, worker's hands, like claws and yet somehow aristocratic.
'But I don't feel ashamed,' he cried angrily. 'And it isn't just so I can have my meals prepared that I need her. The value of science lies in the happiness it brings to people. Our fine Academicians think that science is the domestic servant of practice, that it can be put to work according to Shchedrin's principle: "Your wish is my command." That's the only reason why science is tolerated at all. No! Scientific discoveries have an intrinsic value! They do more for the perfection of man than steam-engines, turbines, aeroplanes or the whole of metallurgy from Noah to the present day. They perfect the soul! The human soul!'
'I quite agree with you, Dmitry Petrovich, but I'm afraid comrade Stalin thinks differently.'
'Yes, but he's wrong. Besides, there's another side to all this. Maxwell's abstract idea can be tomorrow's military radio signal.
Einstein's theory of gravitational fields, Schrôdinger's quantum mechanics and the conceptions of Bohr can all yield very concrete applications. That is what these people don't realize. And yet it's so simple you'd think even a goose could understand.'
'Yes,' said Viktor, 'of course today's theory is tomorrow's practice. But I don't need to tell you how reluctant our authorities are to accept that.'
'No,' said Chepyzhin, 'it was the other way round for me. It was because I know that today's theories are tomorrow's practice that I didn't want to be director of the Institute. But there's one thing I don't understand. I was quite sure that Shishakov had been appointed to carry out research into nuclear reactions. And in that field they can't get by without you… In fact I still do feel sure of that.'
'I don't understand your reasons for leaving the Institute,' said Viktor. 'I can't make out what you're saying. I understand that the authorities set the Institute various tasks which you find disturbing. That's clear enough. But the authorities have made mistakes in less esoteric realms than ours. Look at the way the boss was always strengthening our ties of friendship with the Germans; only a few days before the outbreak of war he was sending Hitler whole trainloads of rubber and other raw materials of strategic importance. And in our field – well, even a great politician can be pardoned for failing to understand what's going on there… As for my life – everything's been back to front. My work before the war was closely linked to practice. In Chelyabinsk I used to go to the factory and help set up the electronic apparatus. But since the war began…'
He waved his hand in mock despair.
'I'm lost in a labyrinth. Sometimes I feel awkward, sometimes I feel quite terrified. Heavens…! All I wanted was to establish the physics of nuclear reactions. What's happened is that time, mass and gravity have collapsed and space has become two different things; it no longer really exists and has no meaning except in terms of magnetism. There's a clever young man in my laboratory called Savostyanov. Well, once I got talking to him about my work. He asked lots of questions; I replied that all this wasn't yet a theory – just a few ideas and a general direction of research. Parallel space is merely an exponent in an equation, not a physical reality. The only symmetry so far is in a mathematical equation; I don't yet know if there's a corresponding
symmetry of particles. Mathematics has left physics behind; I don't know whether or not the physics of particles will ever fit into my equations. Savostyanov listened for a long time and then said: "All this reminds me of a fellow-student of mine. He got hopelessly muddled with some equation and said: 'You know, this isn't science – it's a blind couple trying to screw in a patch of nettles.' " '
Chepyzhin burst out laughing.
'It's odd that even you can't see the significance to physics of your own mathematics,' he said. 'It's like the cat in Alice in Wonderland – first you see the smile, then the cat itself.'
'Dear God…!' said Viktor.'But deep down I know that this is the central axis of human life. No, I'm not going to give in. I'm not going to betray the faith.'
'I can appreciate what a sacrifice it must be to part with the laboratory at the very moment when the link between physics and your mathematics is about to emerge,' said Chepyzhin. 'It must be hard for you, but I'm very glad: honesty is never just wiped off the slate and forgotten.'
'I just hope I'm not wiped off the slate myself,' said Viktor.
Natalya Ivanovna brought in the tea and shifted the books to make room on the table.
'Ah! Lemon!' said Viktor.
'You're an honoured guest,' said Natalya Ivanovna.
'A nonentity,' said Viktor.
'Come on!' protested Chepyzhin. 'What do you mean by that?'
'Dmitry Petrovich, tomorrow my fate's being decided. I'm sure of it. Where will I be the day after tomorrow?'
He moved his glass of tea closer. Beating out the rhythm of his despair with a teaspoon, he said absent-mindedly, 'Ah! Lemon!', then felt embarrassed at having repeated the same words in exactly the same intonation.
For a while neither of them spoke. Then Chepyzhin said: 'I've got some thoughts I'd like to share with you.'
'Of course,' said Viktor as absent-mindedly as before.
'Nothing special,' said Chepyzhin, 'just a few whimsical notions… As you know, the idea of an infinite universe is already a truism. A metagalaxy will one day seem like a sugar-lump that some thrifty Lilliputian takes with his tea. While an electron or a neutron will seem like a whole world populated by Gullivers. Even schoolboys understand this.'
Viktor nodded and thought to himself: 'Yes, this isn't anything special. The old man's not on form today.' His thoughts turned to Shishakov and tomorrow's meeting: 'No, I'm not going. If I do go, then I have to either repent or argue about politics – and that's the equivalent of suicide.' He gave a slight yawn and thought: 'A weak heart. That's what makes people yawn.'