“I do.”
“When you lie for hours through the night like that, in your thoughts you can go very far, and in very strange directions, you know…”
“I know.”
“But I could feel my heart, and besides, I remembered that you’d tested my blood. What’s my blood like, tell me, tell me the truth. Surely you can now.”
“It’s the same as mine.”
“Really?”
“I swear.”
“What does that mean? You know, later it occurred to me that maybe it is hidden inside me, that it’s… I mean, it could be very small. But I didn’t know where. Now I think that at bottom I was dodging the issue, because I was terrified of what I planned to do, and I was looking for another way out. But Kris, if I have the same blood… if it’s the way you say, then… No, that’s not possible. I mean, I’d be dead already, wouldn’t I? That means there is something after all, but where is it? Maybe in my head? Yet my thoughts are completely ordinary… and I don’t know anything… If I were thinking through it, I ought to know everything right away, and not love you, just pretend, and know that I’m pretending… Kris, please, tell me all you know, maybe something can be done after all?”
“What could be done?”
She was silent.
“Do you want to die?”
“I think so.”
Once again there was silence. I stood above her as she sat there hunched over. I stared at the empty interior of the room, the white enameled surfaces of the apparatus, at the shining scattered implements, as if I were searching for something terribly necessary and I couldn’t find it.
“Harey, can I say something too?”
She waited.
“It’s true that you’re not entirely like me. But that doesn’t mean you’re worse. Quite the opposite. Well, you can think any way you like about it, but it’s thanks to that… that you survived.”
A kind of pathetic childlike smile appeared on her face.
“Is that supposed to mean I’m… immortal?”
“I don’t know. In any case you’re a lot less mortal than me.”
“How awful,” she whispered.
“Maybe not as much as you think.”
“But you don’t envy me…”
“Harey, it’s more a question of your… purpose, as I might call it. You know, here on the Station your purpose is essentially as mysterious as mine, as that of any of us. The other men are going to continue Gibarian’s experiment and anything could happen…”
“Or nothing.”
“Or nothing, and to be honest I’d rather it was nothing, not even because I’m afraid (though I guess that plays a part, I’m not sure), but because it won’t do any good. That’s the one thing I’m certain of.”
“It won’t do any good? Why not? Is it about the… the ocean?”
She shuddered.
“That’s right. It’s about contact. In my view, the whole thing is in essence extremely simple. Contact means an exchange of experiences, concepts, or at least results, conditions. But what if there’s nothing to exchange? If an elephant isn’t a very large bacterium, then an ocean can’t be a very large brain. Of course, various actions can be performed by both sides. As a result of one of them I’m looking at you right now and trying to explain to you that you’re more precious to me than the twelve years of my life I devoted to Solaris, and that I want to go on being with you. Perhaps your appearance was meant to be torture, perhaps a reward, or perhaps just a test under a microscope. An expression of friendship, a treacherous blow, perhaps a taunt? Perhaps everything at once or — as seems most likely to me — something entirely different. But what can you and I really care about the intentions of our parents, however different they were from one another? You can say that our future depends on those intentions, and I’d agree with you. I can’t predict what’s to come. Nor can you. I can’t even assure you I’ll always love you. If so much has already happened, then anything can happen. Maybe tomorrow I’ll turn into a green jellyfish? It doesn’t depend on me. But in what does depend on us, we’ll be together. Is that not something?”
“Listen,” she said, “there’s one other thing. Am I… really like… her?”
“You were,” I said, “but now I don’t know any more.”
“What do you mean…?”
She got to her feet and looked at me with eyes wide open.
“You’ve already taken her place.”
“And you’re sure it’s not her but me that you… Me?”
“Yes. You. I don’t know. I’m afraid that if you were really her, I’d not be able to love you.”
“Why not?”
“Because I did something terrible.”
“To her?”
“Yes. When we were—”
“Don’t say.”
“Why not?”
“Because I want you to know that I’m not her.”
A Conversation
The next day, when I came back from lunch I found a note from Snaut on the table by the window. He reported that for the moment Sartorius was holding off with work on the annihilator so as to make one last attempt at irradiating the ocean with a bundle of hard rays.
“Darling,” I said, “I have to go see Snaut.”
The red dawn was blazing in the window panes and dividing the room in two. We were in the pale blue shadow. Beyond its border everything looked like it was made of copper; you might have thought each book would clang if it fell from the shelf.
“It’s about the experiment. But I’m not sure how to go about it. You understand, I’d rather…”
“There’s no need to explain yourself, Kris. I so wish I could… Maybe if it didn’t last long?”
“It’ll have to take a little while,” I said. “Listen, how about you go with me and wait in the corridor?”
“All right. But if it’s too much for me?”
“What’s it actually like?” I said, adding quickly: “I’m not asking out of curiosity, you understand; but maybe if you figured it out you could overcome it yourself.”
“It’s fear,” she said. She turned a little pale. “I can’t even say what it is I’m afraid of, because really I’m not afraid, I just lose myself. At the last moment I also feel this, this shame, I can’t explain. Then nothing more. That’s why I thought it was some kind of illness…” she finished more quietly, and shuddered.
“Perhaps it’s only that way on this damn Station,” I said. “As for me, I’m going to do everything I can for us to leave here as soon as we can.”
“Do you think that’s possible?” she said, opening her eyes wide.
“Why not? I mean, I’m not shackled to the place… Though it’ll also depend on what I decide with Snaut. What do you think? Will you be able to be alone for long?”
“It depends…,” she said slowly. She lowered her head. “So long as I can hear your voice I should be fine.”
“I’d rather you didn’t hear what we’re saying. Not that I have anything to hide from you, but I don’t know, I can’t know, what Snaut will say.”
“Say no more. I understand. All right. I’ll put myself somewhere where I can only hear the sound of your voice. That’ll do.”
“Then I’ll call him right away from the lab. I’ll leave the door open.” She nodded. I walked through the wall of red rays and out into the corridor which, from the contrast, seemed almost pitch black despite the artificial lighting. The door of the small laboratory was wide open. The reflective shards of the Dewar flask lying on the floor by the row of large liquid oxygen cylinders were the last signs of the nighttime events. The small screen lit up when I took the receiver and called the radio station. The blueish membrane of light that seemed to coat the lusterless glass from within suddenly broke, and Snaut was leaning over the arm of a tall chair and looking straight into my eyes.