Self-discovery

“Re — create a second Lena, an artificial one?” He laughed darkly. “So that she can hang around life like a ticketless passenger. A reward for a good life… what a stupid idea that was! The best pupils, they're a bunch of spoiled privileged people. Imagine Arkady Arkadievich's double: Academician A. A. Azarov, but without an institute to run, without a framework, without membership in the academy, without a car and apartment — without anything except his personal qualities and pleasant memories. What would his life be like?” He put a towel, toothbrush, and toothpaste into the suitcase. “In a word, I've had it. I can't lead a double entendre life any more — worrying about being seen together, looking around in the cafeteria, taking money from you. Yes, I'm taking your money from you, being jealous of you and Lena. Why should I suffer like that — for what sins? I'm a man, not an experimental subject and not somebody's double!”

“How about the work?”

“And who says I'm planning to drop the work? The chamber is almost ready, and you can run the experiments yourself. There's little for me to do here. I'll go away and study the problem of man and machine from the other end.”

He told me his plan. He was going to Moscow to enter the graduate biology department of MSU. The work was dividing up into two streams: I would study the computer — womb and determine its possibilities; he would study man and his possibilities. Then — different by then, with different experiences and ideas — we'd put the work together.

“But why biology? Why not philosophy, sociology, psychology, or life studies, or fine arts? They all deal with man and human society. Why?”

He looked at me thoughtfully.

“Do you believe in intuition?”

“Well, maybe.”

“My intuition tells me that if we overlook biological research, we will lose something very important. I don't know yet just what. I'll try to explain in a year.”

“But why doesn't my intuition say any such thing?”

“Damned if I know!” he sighed with his old expressiveness. His good mood was returning. “Maybe you're just a dumb jackass.”

“Sure, sure. And you're brilliant and sensitive — like the dog that can feel everything but can't express any of it!”

In a word, we had a talk.

Everything was clear: he had to gather individual information, to become his own person. And I accepted the fact that in order to do that he had to be away from me, somewhere on his own. To tell the truth, our “double” situation was beginning to wear on me, too. But that biology stuff — I really didn't understand that at all….

The graduate student leaned back in his chair and stretched. “And couldn't understand it.” he said aloud. In those days he didn't understand himself.

Chapter 13