Self-discovery

“I have to go to Dneprovsk,” the thought suddenly came to him. But then the proud blood of a mountain dweller and corresponding member of the Academy boiled over: he, Vano Aleksandrovich Androsiashvili, would rush to help out a graduate student who had gotten into a mess! A student that he took into the department out of pity and who had hurt him deeply with his lack of trust?

“Yes, rush off!” Vano Aleksandrovich shook his head, calming himself. “First of all, you, Vano, don't believe that Krivoshein committed any crime. He's not the type. There's some problem or misunderstanding there, that's all. You have to help him. Second, you've been dreaming of a way to gain his confidence and get closer to him. Well, here it is. Maybe he has good reason for hiding. But don't let him think that Androsiashvili is a man that can't be counted on, who withdraws from petty irritations. No! Of course, even in Dneprovsk you won't begin to question him — he'll tell you if he wants to. But that discovery must be saved. It's more important than your pride.”

Vano Aleksandrovich felt better because he had overcome himself and reached a wise decision.

Graduate student Krivoshein wasn't sleeping either. He was still reading the diary.

Chapter 20

According to the teachings of Buddha, the way to rid yourself of suffering is to rid yourself of ties. Won't someone tell which ties 1 must sever to stop my eyetooth from aching? And hurry!

— K. Prutkov — engineer, an unumbered thought

January 5. Here I am in the position of a human rough draft for a more perfect copy. And even though I'm the creator of the copy, it's still nothing to be happy about.

“You know, your nephew is very attractive,” Lena said to me after I introduced them at a New Year's party. “Simpatico.”

Back at home, I spent a whole hour staring at myself in the mirror: a depressing sight. And he was good at small talk; I was no match for him.

No, Victor Kravets was behaving himself like a gentleman with Lena. Either earlier memories are having an effect or he's just feeling out his possibilities in breaking hearts, but he appears to be uninterested in her. If he made the effort, though, I'd never see Lena again.

When he and I walk around Academic Town or along the institute grounds, girls who never nodded to me before greet me loudly and joyously: “Hello, Valentin Vasilyevich!” — with an eye on the handsome stranger next to me.

And he's so good on skis! The three of us went out of town yesterday, and he and Lena left me far behind.

And how he danced at the New Year's ball!

Even Ninochka, the secretary, who didn't know the way to the lodge before, always seems to be dropping by with a paper from the office for me.

“Hello, Valentin Vasilyevich! Hello, Vitya… oh, it's so interesting here, all these tubes!”

In a word, I now can observe myself every day the way I am and myself the way I would be if only… if only what? If only it weren't for the hunger during and after the war, the strong resemblance to my father who — alas! — was not too handsome (“Pudgy — faced, just like his father!” the relatives used to say, cooing over me), the bumps and potholes in the road of life. If only it weren't for my rather unhealthy life — style: the lab, the library, my room, conversations, thinking, the miasmas from the reagents — and no physical recreation. Really, I didn't try to become an ugly, fat, stooped egghead — it just happened.

In principle, I should be proud: I beat Mother Nature! But something gets in the way….

No, there's something damaging about this idea. Let's say we perfect the method of controlled synthesis. And we create marvelous people — strong, beautiful, talented, energetic, knowledgeable — you know, masters of life from advertising posters like “We saved at the bank and bought this refrigerator!” But what about the people that were used as a basis for them — does that mean that they were nothing more than rought drafts sketched by life? Why should they be demeaned? That's a fine reward for their lives: regret for your imperfections, the thought that you will never be perfect because you were made by a regular mama and not a marvelous contraption? It turns out that with our system people will still be pitted against people. And not only against bad ones — against everyone, since we all have some imperfections. Does that mean that good but ordinary people (not artificial) will have to be crowded out of life?

(There! That's just like you, Krivoshein — you're so thick — skinned. Until it affects you personally you don't think about it. “Whup him with a two — by — four,” as your daddy used to say. But all right, I got it now. That's the important thing.)