Self-discovery

“Convey the detained suspect to the city jail. It's too bad you refuse to help yourself and us, citizen. You're just making it worse for yourself.”

The lab assistant turned in the doorway. “And it's too bad that you think Krivoshein is dead.” “One of those characters who likes to make a grand exit. Always have the last word.” Onisimov chuckled. “I've seen plenty like him. But he'll come round after a while.”

Matvei Apollonovich lit a cigarette and drummed his fingers on the desk. At first all the clues (faked papers, medical testimony, circumstances) led him to think that the assistant, if he wasn't the killer, was at least actively involved in Krivoshein's death. But this conversation had changed his mind. Not what the suspect had said, but how. He did not sense in him the forethought, the game playing, that fatal game playing that gives away the criminal long before there is any evidence.

“It is looking like an unpremeditated murder. He said himself, 1 don't know if it was me or not. But what about the skeleton? How did it happen? And did it happen? And what about the attempt to pass himself off as Krivoshein by using a theoretical explanation? Is he faking? And what if the absence of game playing is just the most subtle game of all? No, where would such a young, inexperienced fellow develop that? And then, what motives are there for a premeditated murder? What was going on between them? And what about the forged documents?”

Matvei Apollonovich's mind hit a dead end. “All right, let's look into the circumstances.” He stood up and looked out into the hall. Assistant Professor Hilobok was pacing up and down.

“Please come in! I asked you here, comrade Hilobok, to — “

“Yes, yes, I understand,” Hilobok nodded. “Others experience tragedy, and I clean up the messes. People do die of old age, and may God grant us both such ends, Matvei Apollonovich, eh? But Krivoshein never did anything the way everyone else did. No, no, I'm sorry for him. Don't think… it's always a pity when a man dies, right? But Valentin Vasilyevich had caused me so many problems in the past. And all because he was a stubborn character, with no respect for anyone, no consideration, diverging from the collective time and time again.”

“I see. But I would like to ascertain what it was Krivoshein was doing in that lab that was under his jurisdiction. Since you are the scientific secretary, I thought — “

“I just knew you'd ask!” Harry Haritonovich smiled happily. “I even brought along a copy of the thematic plans with me, naturally.” He rustled the papers in his briefcase. “Here it is, theme 152, specific goals — research on NIR, title — 'The self — organization of complex electronic systems with an integral introduction of information/ contents of the work — 'Research on the possibilities of self — organization of complex system into a more complex one with an integral (not differentiated according to signals and symbols) introduction of varying information by adding a superstructure of its output to the system/ financing — here's the budget, nature of the work — mathematical, logical, and experimental, director of the project — engineer V. V. Krivoshein, executor, the same — “ “What was the gist of his research?”

'The gist? Hmmm.” Hilobok's face grew serious. “The self — organization of systems… so that a machine could build itself, understand? They're doing intensive work on this in America. Very. In the USA — “

“And what was Krivoshein actually doing?” “Actually…. He proposed a new approach to forming these systems through… integralization. No, self — organization. It's just not clear if he managed to do anything with it or not.” Harry Haritonovich smiled broadly and winningly. “You know, Matvei Apollonovich, there are so many projects at the institute, and I have to look into all of them. I just can't keep everything straight in my mind. You would be better off reading the minutes of the academic council's meeting.” “You mean, he reported on his work to the academic council?” “Of course! All our projects are considered before they are incorporated into the plan. After all, how could we distribute funds without any factual basis?” “What was his basis?”

“What do you mean?” The scientific secretary raised his eyebrows. “His idea regarding the new approach to the problem of self — organization? You're best off reading the minutes, Matvei Apollonovich.” He sighed. “It all happened a year ago, and we have meetings and debates and commissions every week, if not more frequently. Can you imagine? And I have to be present at every one, organize the speakers, speak myself, issue invitations. For instance, right now, I have to go from here to the Society on Distribution, where there's a meeting on the question of attracting scientific personnel to lecture at collective farms during harvest. I won't even have time for lunch. I can't wait for my vacation!”

“I see. But the academic council approved his topic?”