“I’d call it rather Project Butchery,” I said slowly.
“You were a butcher yourself. Am I not right? Now things will be quite different. No guests, no G-formations — nothing. The moment the materialization appears, it’ll disintegrate.”
“You misunderstand,” I replied, shaking my head with a smile that I hoped looked sufficiently natural. “These aren’t moral scruples, they’re a survival instinct. I don’t want to die, Snaut.”
“What…?”
He was taken aback. He gave me a suspicious look. From my pocket I pulled out the crumpled sheet of paper containing the formulas.
“I’ve been thinking about it too. Does that surprise you? After all, I was the first one to propose the neutrino hypothesis, you won’t deny that? So look: an antifield can be built. For ordinary matter it’s harmless. That much is true. But at the moment of destabilization, when the neutrino system begins to disintegrate, the energy of its bonds will be released as surplus. If we assume ten to the eighth ergs for every kilogram of rest mass, for one G-formation we get between five and seven times ten to the eighth. Do you know what that means? The equivalent of a small uranium charge going off inside the Station.”
“What are you saying! But… surely Sartorius must have taken that into consideration…”
“Not necessarily,” I retorted with a malicious smile. “The thing is, Sartorius belongs to the Frazer and Cajolli school. According to them, at the moment of disintegration the entire energy of the bonds is released in the form of light radiation. There’d be just a powerful flash, maybe not completely safe, but not destructive. But there are other hypotheses, other theories of the neutrino field. According to Cayatt, according to Avalov, to Siona, the emission spectrum is much broader, with the maximum occurring as hard gamma radiation. It’s very nice that Sartorius trusts his masters and their theory, but there are others, Snaut. And you know what else?” I went on, seeing that my words had made an impression on him. “The ocean also needs to be taken into consideration. If it did what it did, for sure it used the best possible method. In other words: its activities seem to me an argument in favor of the other school and against Sartorius.”
“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…”
Liquid Oxygen
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.