Self-discovery

June 7. The rabbits lived in the chamber for four days. They munched carrots and cabbage leaves, wriggled their noses, fought, copulated, and napped. I did my first tests today. I put on Monomakh's Crown, mentally ordered “Proceed!” — and the computer — womb worked. Four rabbit doubles in an hour and a half.

What a relief — the machine worked.

An interesting detail: the visual appearance of the rabbits (what happens before that, I don't know) begins with the circulatory system; the blue red vessels show up in the golden fluid just as they do in the yolk of a fertilized chicken egg.

As they came to life, the rabbits floated up. I pulled them out by the ears, bathed them in a tub, all warm and trembling, and then put them in with the regular ones. The encounter between the natural and artificial doubles had an even more banal character than my meeting with my double. They stared at each other in disbelief, sniffed each other, and (since they don't have a secondary signal system, to explain) fought. Then they got tired, sniffed some more and went on with the normal rabbit routine.

The important thing is that the computer works on my command, without any additions. You put on the crown, remember (preferably with a mental image) which rabbit you want copied, give permission mentally — and in twenty — five to thirty minutes it's flopping around in the tank. The reverse operation — dissolving an appearing rabbit with the command “No!” — the computer — womb also does without reproach.

For its success and hard work I feed it salts, acids, glycerine, vitamins, and reagents. Just like giving fish to a trained seal.

June 20. When it works, it works. And when it doesn't you could just beat your head on the wall. All this time I've been trying to stop the synthesis of a rabbit at some stage. No matter what command I've tried: “Stop!” “Halt!” “Enough!” “Cut it out!” — both mentally and verbally — nothing helps. Either the synthesis goes on to the end, or there is dissolution.

It looks like the computer — womb works like a flip — flop circuit in a computer, that is, either open or closed, and has no in — between positions. But you would expect a complex machine to be more flexible than that silly circuit.

I'll keep trying….

July 6. Life cannot be stopped. That must be it. Any interruption of life is death. But death is only an instant, after which begins the process of decay or in this case, dissolution. And I'm synthesizing living systems. And the computer — womb itself is a living organism. That's why nothing can freeze in it. Too bad, it would have been very convenient…. The first offspring of an artificial male and regular female appeared today — eight white bunnies. That must be an important fact. But I have plenty of rabbits without that.

Damn it, but the machine must obey orders more complex than “You may!” and “No!” I must control the synthesis process, otherwise all my ideas fly out the window.

July 7. So that's how you work, computer — womb! And it's so simple.

Today I ordered the machine to re — create Albino Vaska one more time. When it appeared as a translucent apparition in the middle of the vat, I concentrated on its tail and imagine that it was no longer. No changes followed. That wasn't it. And I thought sadly, “That's not it.. ” — and everything began changing in the rabbit. The body's contour wavered in a slow rhythm: the body, ears, and feet and tail either grew longer and fatter or shorter and thinner; the internal organs pulsed in the same rhythm. Even the color of the blood changed color from dark cherry to light red and back again.

I jumped up from my chair. The rabbit was still being “shaken!” Its shape kept changing, being distorted and caricatured; the trembling became more frequent and wild. Finally the albino dissolved into a purplish gray cloud and dissolved.

At first I was scared: the picture reminded me of the computer's old delirium. Except for the rhythm. All the fluctuations of size and shade were amazingly coordinated.

And then I understood. I figured it out myself, I might add, damn it!

The computer's original information on the rabbit was concrete and definite. It combined all the informational details, searching for the precise variation; but search or not, you can only re — create what's recorded. You can't make a vacuum cleaner from motorcycle parts.

And then the computer receives the signal “That's not it” — neither confirming nor negating — a signal of doubt. It disrupts the informational stability of the synthesis of the rabbit; to put it bluntly, it throws the computer off the track. And it begins searching — what is “it” — through the simple method of trial and error (a little more, a little less so as not to destroy the system…. But the computer doesn't know what “it” is, and it doesn't get confirmation from me. Complete disruption of the system and dissolution follow.