“Mesons,” put in Sartorius. He did not sound in the least surprised.
“No, not mesons… I would have seen them. The power of this instrument here is between a 10th to a 20th of an angstrom, isn’t it? But nothing is visible, nothing whatsoever. So it can’t be mesons. More likely neutrinos.”
“How do you account for that theory? Conglomerations of neutrinos are unstable…”
“I don’t know. I’m not a physicist. Perhaps a magnetic field could stabilize them. It’s not my province. In any event, if my observations are correct, the structure is made up of particles at least ten thousand times smaller than atoms. Wait a minute, I haven’t finished! If the albuminous molecules and the cells were directly constructed from micro-atoms, they would be proportionally even smaller. This applies to the corpuscles, the micro-organisms, everything. Now, the dimensions are those of atomic structures. Consequently, the albumen, the cell and the nucleus of the cell are nothing but camouflage. The real structure, which determines the functions of the visitor, remains concealed.”
“Kelvin!”
Snow had uttered a stifled cry. I stopped, horrified. I had said “visitor.”
Rheya had not overheard. At any rate, she had not understood. Her head in her hand, she was staring out of the window, her delicate profile etched against the purple dawn.
My distant interlocutors were silent; I could hear their breathing.
“There’s something in what he says,” Snow muttered.
“Yes,” remarked Sartorius, “but for one fact: Kelvin’s hypothetical particles have nothing to do with the structure of the ocean. The ocean is composed of atoms.”
“Perhaps it’s capable of producing neutrinos,” I replied.
Suddenly I was bored with all their talk. The conversation was pointless, and not even amusing.
“Kelvin’s hypothesis explains this extraordinary resistance and the speed of regeneration,” Snow growled. “They probably carry their own energy source as well; they don’t need food…”
“I believe I have the chair,” Sartorius interrupted. The self-designated chairman of the debate was clinging exasperatingly to his role. “I should like to raise the question of the motivation behind the appearance of the Phi-creatures. I put it to you as follows: what are the Phi-creatures? They are not autonomous individuals, nor copies of actual persons. They are merely projections materializing from our brains, based on a given individual.”
I was struck by the soundness of this description; Sartorius might not be very sympathetic, but he was certainly no fool.
I rejoined the conversation:
“I think you’re right. Your definition explains why a particular per… creation appears rather than another. The origin of the materialization lies in the most durable imprints of memory, those which are especially well-defined, but no single imprint can be completely isolated, and in the course of the reproduction, fragments of related imprints are absorbed. Thus the new arrival sometimes reveals a more extensive knowledge than that of the individual of whom it is a copy…”
“Kelvin!” shouted Snow once more.
It was only Snow who reacted to my lapses; Sartorius did not seem to be affected by them. Did this mean that Sartorius’s visitor was less perspicacious than Snow’s? For a moment, I imagined the scholarly Sartorius cohabiting with a cretinous dwarf.
“Indeed, that corresponds with our observations,” Sartorius said. “Now, let us consider the motivation behind the apparition! It is natural enough to assume, in the first instance, that we are the object of an experiment. When I examine this proposition, the experiment seems to me badly designed. When we carry out an experiment, we profit by the results and, above all, we carefully note the defects of our methods. As a result, we introduce modifications in our future procedure. But, in the case with which we are concerned, not a single modification has occurred. The Phi-creatures reappear exactly as they were, down to the last detail… as vulnerable as before, each time we attempt to… to rid ourselves of them…”
“Exactly,” I broke in, “a recoil, with no compensating mechanism, as Dr. Snow would say. Conclusions?”
“Simply that the thesis of experimentation is inconsistent with this… this unbelievable bungling. The ocean is… precise. The dual-level structure of the Phi-creatures testifies to this precision. Within the prescribed limits, the Phi-creatures behave in the same way as the real… the… er…”
He could not disentangle himself.
“The originals,” said Snow, in a loud whisper.
“Yes, the originals. But when the situation no longer corresponds to the normal faculties of… er… the original, the Phi-creature suffers a sort of ‘disconnection of consciousness,’ followed immediately by unusual, non-human manifestations…”
“It’s true,” I said, “and we can amuse ourselves drawing up a catalogue of the behavior of… of these creatures — a totally frivolous occupation!”
“I’m not sure of that,” protested Sartorius. I suddenly realized why he irritated me so much: he didn’t talk, he lectured, as though he were in the chair at the Institute. He seemed to be incapable of expressing himself in any other way. “Here we come to the question of individuality,” he went on, “of which, I am quite sure, the ocean has not the smallest inkling. I think that the… er… delicate or shocking aspect of our present situation is completely beyond its comprehension.”
“You think its activities are unpremeditated?”
I was somewhat bewildered by Sartorius’s point of view, but on second thought, I realized that it could not be dismissed.
“No, unlike our colleague Snow, I don’t believe there is malice, or deliberate cruelty…”
Snow broke in:
“I’m not suggesting it has human feelings, I’m merely trying to find an explanation for these continual reappearances.”
With a secret desire to nag poor Sartorius, I said:
“Perhaps they are plugged into a contrivance which goes round and round, endlessly repeating itself, like a gramophone record…”
“Gentlemen, I beg you, let us not waste time! I haven’t yet finished. In normal circumstances, I would have felt it premature to present a report, even a provisional one, on the progress of my research; in view of the prevailing situation, however, I think I may allow myself to speak out. I have the impression — only an impression, mark you — that Dr. Kelvin’s hypothesis is not without validity. I am alluding to the hypothesis of a neutrino structure… Our knowledge in this field is purely theoretical. We did not know if there was any possibility of stabilizing such structures. Now a clearly defined solution offers itself to us. A means of neutralizing the magnetic field that maintains the stability of the structure…”
A few moments previously, I had noticed that the screen was flickering with light. Now a split appeared from top to bottom of the left-hand side. I saw something pink move slowly out of view. Then the lens-cover slipped again, disclosing the screen.
Sartorius gave an anguished cry:
“Go away! Go away!”
I saw his hands flapping and struggling, then his forearms, covered by the wide sleeves of the laboratory gown. A bright golden disc shone out for an instant, then everything went dark. Only then did I realize that this golden disc was a straw hat…
I took a deep breath.
“Snow?”
An exhausted voice replied:
“Yes, Kelvin…” Hearing his voice, I realized that I had become quite fond of him, and that I preferred not to know who or what his companion was. “That’s enough for now, don’t you think?” he said.
“I agree.” Before he could cut off, I added quickly: “Listen, if you can, come and see me, either in the operating room or in my cabin.”
“OK, but I don’t know when.”