Self-discovery

The relativity of knowledge is a great thing. The statement “two plus two equals thirteen” is relatively closer to the truth than “two plus two equals forty — one.” You could even say that the move to the former from the latter represents an expression of creative maturity, scholarly courage, and unheard — of scientific progress — if you didn't know that two plus two equals four.

We know that in arithmetic, but it's too soon to rejoice. For example, in physics, two plus two equals less than four because of a defect in mass. And in such fine sciences as sociology or ethics, not even two plus two, but even one plus one can be either a future family or a conspiracy to rob a bank.

— K. Prutkov — engineer, Thought 5

May 22. Today I saw him off at the train. In the station restaurant, the customers stared at two grown twins. I felt uncomfortable. He was happy.

“Remember, fifteen years ago, I — no, I guess it was you — left for the exams at the physics — technological institute? It was all the same: a streak of alienation, freedom, uncertainty….”

I remembered. Yes, it was the same. The same waiter with an expression of chronic dissatisfaction with life served tenth — graders who had escaped into life. Then we thought that everything was ahead of us; and so it was. And now there is quite a bit behind us: happy things, and gray things, and things that make it scary to look back, and yet it still seems that the best and most interesting is ahead.

Then we drank the cheapest port. Now the waiter brought us fine cognac. We each had a glass.

It was noisy and crowded in the restaurant. People were eating and drinking in a rush.

“Look,” my double pointed out, “a mother feeding twins. Greetings, colleagues! Look at their eyes. How do you think they'll turn out? For now their mother is taking care of them, and even so they managed to smear porridge all over their faces in the same way. But in a few years another bustling mother will take over — Life. One, say, will grab a chicken by the tail and pull out all the feathers. The first in a collection of unrepeatable impressions, since there will be no feathers left for the other to pull. But the other will get lost in a store with great weeping and wailing — another personal, unique experience. And a year later his mother will let him have it for the jam that his brother gobbled up. Again differences: one will sense injustice while the other is getting away without punishment. Oh, mama, watch it. If things go on like that, one of them will grow up to be a timid loser, and the other a sly fellow who gets away with everything. You'll cry then, mama. You and I are like those twins.”

“Well, at least an unfair spanking won't knock us off the track. We're at the wrong age.”

“I'll drink to that!”

They announced the train. We went out to the platform. He went on talking.

“You know what's interesting? What happens to that old saw about people being born with a destiny? Let's say that it was intended at your birth for you to move through space and time at a certain rate, to advance at work, etc. And suddenly — abracadabra! — there are two Krivosheins! And they lead separate lives in separate cities. Now what happens to the divine plan? Or did God write it in two variants? And what if we turn into ten? And what if we don't want to, and don't?” We both made believe that something ordinary was happening. “Friends, check to see that you haven't kept the departing passengers' tickets by mistake!” I hadn't. The train took him to Moscow.

We agreed to write to each other when necessary (I'll bet that he won't feel that necessity very soon!) and to meet next July. We'll spend this year approaching the problem from two angles; he'll take biology, and I'll take systemology. We'll see….

When the train left I realized that I would miss him. I guess because this was the first time that I had felt as comfortable with another person as I do with… with myself. There's no other way of putting it. Even between Lena and me there is always something left unsaid, misunderstood, strictly personal. But with him… but even with him, we each developed our own secrets over a month of living together. Interesting, that bustling mother life!