I guess the problem is something else: you can't work that way now. Science has become very serious now, not like in the days of Galvani and Roentgen. This is the way, without thinking, that you can come up with a force that can destroy the whole world instantly — with a brilliant experimental proof….
My double came out of the bathroom rosy pink and in my pajamas and settled in front of the mirror to comb his hair. I stood behind him. Two identical faces stared out from the mirror. Only his wet hair was darker.
He took out the electric razor from the closet and plugged it in. I watched him shave and almost felt that I was visiting him; his behavior was so casual and at — home. I couldn't resist speaking up:
“Listen, do you at least realize how unusual this situation is?” “What? Don't bother me!” He was obviously beyond being interested in the fact.
The graduate student put down the diary and shook his head: well, Valentin the Original didn't know people very well.
He had also been in shock. His sense had told him that he woke up in the tank, understanding everything: where he was and how he got there. Actually, his discovery began then. And his insolence was only a cover — up. He was searching for a mode of behavior that would keep him from being reduced to a lab guinea pig.
He picked up the diary.
“But you appeared from a machine, not from a mother's womb! From a machine, do you understand?”
“So what? Appearing from a womb is such a snap? A human's birth is much more mysterious than my appearance. Here you can trace the logical sequence, but there? Will it be a boy or a girl? Will it favor father or mother? Will it be smart or a dope? It's all in a fog! That business seems normal only because of its frequency. Here, the computer took down information and re — created it. Like a tape recorder. Of course, it would have been better if it had re — created me from Einstein… but what can you do? If you tape boogie — woogie you can't expect to hear a Tchaikovsky symphony.”
No, I wasn't a boor like him. He must have been acutely aware of the ticklishness of his situation and didn't want me to realize it. And what was there that I couldn't realize. He appeared out of flasks and bottles, like a medieval homunculus, and he was wildly angry. I've often noticed that people who have an inferiority complex are always more obnoxious than the rest.
And he was trying to behave with the spontaneity of a newborn. A baby isn't overwhelmed with the event (Man is born!), but instead immediately makes a fuss, sucking, and messing his diapers.
Graduate student Krivoshein merely sighed and turned the page.
“But do you feel all right?”
“Absolutely!” He splashed on some after — shave. “Why shouldn't I feel all right? A computer is an apparatus without fantasy. I can just picture what it might have done if it had an inkling of imagination. But I'm fine: I'm not a two — headed monster. I'm young, healthy. I'm going to have dinner and go to Lena's. I've missed her.”
“What?”
He watched me with interest, sparks dancing in his eyes.
“Yes, we're rivals now! Listen, you seem to have a very primitive attitude toward all this. Jealousy is old — fashioned and in poor taste. And who are you jealous of, anyway? Think about it. If Lena's with me, it doesn't mean that she's being unfaithful to you. You can only be unfaithful with another man, someone different, more attractive, for instance. And as far as she's concerned, I'm you. Even if we have children, you can't consider yourself cuckolded. You and I are identical — all the same genes and chromosomes. Easy!”
He had to hide behind the closet door. I grabbed a dumbbell and headed for him.
“I'll kill you! Don't try logic with me. I'll give you logic, you homunculus! I gave you life and I'll kill you, understand? Don't you dare even think about her!”
My double fearlessly stepped out from the closet door. He was frowning.
“Listen, Taras Bulba, put down the dumbbell. If you're going to talk like that, we might as well agree on some terms right now. I'm leaving 'homunculus' and 'kill' aside as products of your hysteria. And as for locutions like 'I gave you life'… well, you didn't. I exist without any help from you, and you might as well forget any ideas of being my lord and master.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just that. Put down the dumbbell. I'm serious. If you want precision, I was created despite your plans simply because you didn't stop the experiment in time, and when you wanted to, it was too late. In other words,” he snorted, “it's quite analagous to the situation when you appeared in this world because of your parents' carelessness.”
(Look, he knows everything! It's true. My mother once said, after some prank of mine, to make me obey:
“I was going to have an abortion, but changed my mind. And you….”
She shouldn't have said that. I was unwanted. I might never have existed.)
“But as distinguished from your mother, you didn't bear me, didn't suffer labor pains, didn't nurse and clothe me,” he continued. “You didn't even save me from death because, after all, I existed before this experiment. I was you. I don't owe you my life, my health, my engineering degree — nothing! So let's start even.”
“And even with Lena?”
“With Lena… I don't know. But you… you….” Judging by his expression he wanted to add something, but held his tongue, exhaling sharply. “You have to respect my feelings as I do yours, understand? I love Lena too, you know. And I know that she's mine — my woman, understand? I know her body, the smell of her skin and hair, her breath… and how she says, 'Really, Val, you're just like a bear! and how she wrinkles her nose.”
He suddenly stopped. We looked at each other, overwhelmed by the same thought. “Let's get to the lab!” I ran for my coat first.
Chapter 9
If you want a cab and fate offers a bus, take the bus; at least it runs on a schedule.
— K. Prutkov — engineer, Thought 90
We made a beeline through the park: the wind whistled in the branches and in our ears. Asphalt — colored clouds blanketed the sky.
The lab smelled like a warm swamp. The ceiling bulbs glowed like lighthouses in a fog. I stepped on a hose near my desk that had not been there before, and pulled my foot away. The hose was moving!
The flasks and bottles were covered with thick gray dust; there was no way to tell what was going on inside them. Streams of water bubbled from the distillers and the relays clicked in the thermostats. In a far corner, which could not be reached through the jumble of wires, tubes, and hoses, the lights on the TsVM — 12's control panel blinked at me.
There were many more hoses than before. We made our way through them, as if through a jungle of lianas. Some hoses were contracting, pushing lumps through themselves. The walls of the tank were covered with some kind of mold. I wiped it off with my sleeve.
In the golden, murky medium there was a silhouette of a man. “Another double? No….” I looked closely. The contours were a woman's, contours that I could never confuse with anyone else's. A hairless head fluttered in front of my face.
There was some mad logic in the fact that precisely now when the double and I were fighting over Lena, the computer was struggling with our problem. I was scared.
“But the computer doesn't know her!”
“You do. The computer is re — creating her from your memory.” We were whispering for some reason. “Look!”