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SOLARIS Part Two Get in. - What about you? - I'm right behind you. I have to shut the hatch. Is everything all right? Are you comfortable? Yes. Hurry, Kris. You could at least knock. It sounded like you were talking to someone. All the more reason. So you had guests? Well, I see you took good care of them. It's nothing. You won't die from it. Did you at least start out modestly? Narcotics, poisons, barbiturates, eh? If you plan to clown around, you might as well leave. Sometimes you become a clown without wanting to. Don't tell me you haven't tried a rope or a hammer. Did you happen to throw the inkwell like Luther? No? So, one, two, and into the rocket,
and that was that. Next time, don't panic. And push the button from the corridor. You could get burned. - What was that? - I don't know. Then again, we've managed to determine a few things. Who was it? She died 10 years ago. What you saw was the materialization of your conception of her. - What was her name? - Hari. Everything began after we started experimenting with radiation. We hit the Ocean's surface with strong X-ray beams. But it... Incidentally, consider yourself lucky. After all, she's a part of your past. What if it had been something you had never seen before, but something you had thought or imagined? I don't understand. Evidently the Ocean responded to our heavy radiation with something else. It probed our minds and extracted something like islands of memory.
Will she come back? She will... and she won't. - Hari the Second. - There may be an endless number of them. Why didn't you warn me? You wouldn't have believed me. I got scared and acted not entirely... Don't be hard on yourself. We've had enough of Gibarian. There's talk about liquidating the station. That's why I was sent here. If I submit a report, will you sign it? And what if we suddenly make that long-awaited contact? Night is the best time here. It somehow reminds me of Earth. Attach strips of paper to the air vents. At night it sounds like the rustling of leaves. It was Gibarian's invention. So simple, like all genius. I adopted it right away. Sartorius made fun of us, but he has one in his room. He hides it in the closet. You should rest.
If you can, come to the library later. I've prepared a list of books for you. Snaut, is that you? Kris, where are you? Come here. - It's so dark. - Come here. Don't be afraid. Hari! The door opens the other way. Hang on. I'll be right back. When I saw you weren't there, I got scared. Hello, Kris. I can barely hear you. Speak louder. What are you doing right now? Nothing. Sartorius has invited us to his laboratory. How are you? Fine. I'll try to make it. Kris, what's wrong with me? Maybe it's epilepsy? This is my wife. Hello. - We've been waiting for you. - I was busy. - How lovely! Are these yours? - No, they're Snaut's.
So, as far as I can tell, they are constructed... Let's just call them "guests." Fine. While our structure is made of atoms, theirs consists of neutrinos. But neutrino systems are unstable. They seem to be stabilized by Solaris' force field. You've got a superb specimen. That's my wife. Wonderful. Perfect. Then take a blood sample from your wife. Why? It'll sober you up a bit. What do you think? - Snaut? - Enough of all of you! I burned the blood with acid, but it's restoring itself. Regeneration? In essence, immortality - Faust's problem. Excuse me. There's no need for cotton. Are you qualified to perform an autopsy? I've already told you - she's my wife. Don't you understand? I think these experiments are more humane than testing on rabbits.
Don't you agree? It doesn't matter. It would be like cutting my own leg off. Did you feel pain when you broke through the door? Pain? Of course. So if I ever catch you doing anything... - You're lucky. - Ηow so? It's meaningless, yet you've managed to establish emotional contact with them. - It may be pleasant... - What are you, jealous? Maybe I'm jealous. No, you're not jealous. After all, you're not guilty of anything. - Of course. - But I am guilty. Of what? When you turn into an utter cripple with no arms or legs, call us. We'll empty your chamber pot. - But whom have you wronged? - You, among others. My father shot that. Well, I shot a bit. Listen... I don't know myself at all. I don't remember. When I close my eyes, I can't recall my face. And you? What? - Do you know yourself? - Like all humans.
That woman in the white coat hated me. Don't make things up. She died before you and I met. I don't understand why you're deceiving me. I remember perfectly. We drank tea and she kicked me out. Naturally, I stood up and left. I remember perfectly. What happened after that? After that, I went away, and we never saw each other again. Where did you go? To a different city. - Why? - I was transferred. Why did you leave without me? You didn't want to come. That I remember. Forgive me. I thought you were already awake. What happened? The regeneration is slowing down. For two or three hours we can be free of them. You came in the middle of the night to tell me that? I'll tell you why I came. Sartorius and I were thinking:
If the Ocean derives guests from us while we dream, maybe it makes sense to transmit our waking thoughts to it. - How? - With beams of radiation. Perhaps it will understand and spare us from all these apparitions. Again these ridiculous X-ray sermons about the greatness of science? We'll modulate the beam with the brain waves of one of us. And "one of us" means me, of course. An encephalogram! A transcription of all my thoughts! What if I suddenly want her to die? To disappear! Entrust everything to that... that mass of jelly? It's already invaded my soul. Kris, we're running out of time. Sartorius has proposed another project: The annihilator. Self-destruction of the neutrino systems. What is this? Blackmail? I convinced him to start with the encephalogram. But forget about this for now. Tomorrow's my birthday. Consider yourself invited.
- Liar! You just want to make up with us. - Yes, I do. Don't shout. She sleeping. Sleeping? She's already learned how to sleep? This will all end badly. - Well, what do you propose I do? - Nothing. So you'll come? Tomorrow, in the library. We'll set the table. At least there are no windows in there. In the meantime, let's go. Sartorius is waiting. She's sleeping. Will she follow me? Don't lock the door. What door? It's just an apparition. Wait. I'll be right back. Where are you going? Forgive me. Why aren't you asleep? - You don't love me. - Stop it, Hari. - We have to talk. - About what? You understand that I don't know where I came from. - Maybe you know? - What's with you?
Stop. Don't interrupt. If you know, but you can't tell me now, perhaps one day you will. What are you talking about? I don't understand a thing, honestly. You don't want to tell me. You're afraid. Then I'll tell you. I'm not Ηari. Hari is dead. She poisoned herself. I'm somebody else. Who told you this? - Sartorius just told me. - Last night. It would have been better if you had told me yourself. My God, what's the difference? How have you lived all this time? Were you in love with anyone? I don't know. Did you ever think of me? Yes, but not all the time. Only when I felt unhappy. You know, it feels like somebody is tricking us. And the longer this fog lasts, the worse it will be for you in the end.
Particularly for you, Kris. How can I help you? Tell me. And her, the other one, what happened to her? We argued. Towards the end, we argued a lot. I gathered my things and left. She made me understand without saying it directly, but when you live with someone for a long time, such things aren't necessary. I was sure they were just words, but then I remembered that I'd left the laboratory specimens in the refrigerator. I had brought them from the laboratory and explained how they worked. I got scared. I wanted to go to her. But then I thought it would look like I had taken her words seriously. After three days, I couldn't take it anymore and I went to see her. When I got there, she was already dead. There was a needle mark on her arm. Like this? Why did she do it? She probably sensed that I didn't really love her.
But now I do. - Kris. - What? I love you. Get some sleep. I don't know how to sleep. It's not sleep. It's somehow around me. It's as if it weren't just inside of me, but much farther away. It's probably still sleep. So, it looks like our guest of honor isn't showing up. - Why? - Maybe he has guests. Oh, everyone's already here? You're an hour and a half late. What's that you're reading? It's all rubbish. Rubbish. Where the hell is... Here! "They come at night. But one must sleep sometime." That's the problem. Mankind has lost the ability to sleep. You'd better read. I'm a little excited.
"I know only one thing, señor. When I... When I sleep, I know no fear, no hope, no trouble, no bliss. Blessings on him who invented sleep. The common coin that purchases all things, the balance that levels shepherd and king, fool and wise man. There is only one bad thing about sound sleep. They say it closely resembles death." "Never before, Sancho, have I heard you speak so elegantly as now." That's great, but perhaps you'll let me say something now? I propose a toast to Snaut, to his bravery, to his devotion to duty. To science and to Snaut. Science? Nonsense. In this situation, mediocrity and genius are equally useless. We have no interest in conquering any cosmos. We want to extend the Earth to the borders of the cosmos. We don't know what to do with other worlds.
We don't need other worlds. We need a mirror. We struggle for contact, but we'll never find it. We're in the foolish human predicament of striving for a goal that he fears, that he has no need for. Man needs man. Let's drink to Gibarian. To his memory. Even though he got frightened. No, Gibarian was not frightened. There are worse things. He died of hopelessness. He thought all this was happening only to him. My God! All these heartbreaking lamentations are nothing but second-rate Dostoyevsky. Who are you to judge? I know why I'm here. I'm working. Man was created by nature so he could learn her ways. In his endless search for the truth, man is condemned to knowledge. Everything else is whim. Permit me to ask, my esteemed colleague:
Why have you come to Solaris? - What do you mean, why? - Well, are you working a lot? Forgive me, but aside from the romance with your ex-wife, nothing seems to interest you. You spend all day lounging in a bed of noble thoughts, and that's how you carry out your duty. You've lost touch with reality. Forgive me, but you're simply a loafer. Enough! Let's try to be pleasant. We'll drink to Gibarian. Not to Gibarian, but to Man. Are you saying Gibarian was not a man? Stop it, Kris. Let's not fight. After all, it's my birthday. It's my day. Of course. I think that Kris Kelvin is more consistent than both of you. In inhuman conditions, he has behaved humanely. And you act as if none of this concerns you, and consider your guests - it seems that's what you call us - something external, a hindrance.
But it's a part of you. It's your conscience. And Kris loves me. Maybe it's not me he loves, but he's simply protecting himself. He wants me alive. That's not the point. It doesn't matter why man loves. It's different for everyone. It's not Kris. It's you. - I hate you all. - I would ask you... Please don't interrupt me. I'm a woman, after all. You're not a woman and you're not a human being. Understand that, if you're capable of understanding anything. There is no Hari. She's dead. You're just a reproduction, a mechanical reproduction. A copy. A matrix. Yes. Maybe. But I... I am becoming a human being. I can feel just as deeply as you. Believe me.
I can already get by without him. I... love him. I am a human being. You... you're very cruel. Get up! Get up right now! My dear man. Nothing could be easier. We've wasted time arguing. We're losing our dignity and human character. No. You're human, each in your own way. That's why you argue. I hope I'm not bothering you. You're a good man... but you look awful. I've really lost heart. Help me out a bit. Doesn't a man who's ready to give up his life just to make cursed contact in order to know more about it have the right to get drunk?
He has every right. Do you believe in our mission, Kelvin? I'm not going to bed yet. It's important not to fall asleep. I'm going to see Faust. In the laboratory, our Faust - Sartorius - is seeking a remedy for immortality. While we... Listen, let's open these hatches and shout down below. It would suddenly hear. But what should we call it? Maybe we should whip it. Or, better yet, pray to it. What's wrong? I think I shut the door to the library. She's there alone. Go. I feel better already. The station is changing its orbit. At 5 a.m. there will be 30 seconds of weightlessness. Don't forget. Forgive me, my darling. I was lost in thought. Is something wrong?
No, nothing. Everything's fine. She drank liquid oxygen. She did it out of despair. It'll get worse. The more she's with you, the more human she'll become. - Learn from Sartorius' example. - Thanks for the advice. What do you intend to do? Wait until she returns. And then what? Leave the station? Kris, she can only live here, on the station. You know that. What can I do? - I love her. - Which one? Her, or the one in the rocket? You can pull her in from space. She will appear again and she'll keep appearing. Don't turn a scientific problem into a common love story. I had a feeling this would end badly. You should help her. What a ghastly sight. I can never get used to all these resurrections. Is it me?
Hari... What? Why? No, it's not me. It's... I'm... not Hari... And you... Maybe you... - Don't, Ηari. - I'm not Ηari! Fine! Maybe your appearance is supposed to be torture. Maybe it's a favor from the Ocean. What does it matter when you're worth more to me than any science could ever be? Do I look a lot like her? No, you looked like her. But now you - and not her - are the real Hari. Tell me... Do I disgust you? I'm so... - I disgust you! - No, Hari. That's not true. - You're lying! - It's not true. Stop it. - I must be disgusting! - Stop it. Don't touch me! I love you. What's the matter? Nothing.
I'm not going back to Earth. I'll live here with you on the station. You know... I'm afraid. It looks like it's showing some activity. Your encephalogram helped. You know... whenever we show pity, we ravage ourselves. Maybe it's true... Suffering makes life seem dismal and suspect. But I won't accept that. No, I won't accept that. Is that which is indispensable to life also harmful to it? No, it's not harmful. Of course it's not harmful. Remember Tolstoy? His suffering over the impossibility of loving mankind as a whole? How much time has passed since then? Somehow I can't figure it out. Help me. See, I love you.
But love is a feeling we can experience but never explain. One can explain the concept. You love that which you can lose: Yourself, a woman, a homeland. Until today, love was simply unattainable to mankind, to the Earth. Do you understand me, Snaut? There are so few of us. A few billion altogether. A handful! Maybe we're here in order to experience people as a reason for love. He seems to have a fever. How did Gibarian die? You still haven't told me. I'll tell you. Later. Gibarian didn't die of fear. He died of shame. Shame - the feeling that will save mankind. Mama, I... I'm two hours late. I know. How was your trip? Fine. I'm a little tired, but it was fine.
My God, it's running slow again. I'll go adjust it. You've got plenty of time. You know, it's really embarrassing, but for some reason... I've completely forgotten your face. You don't look well. Are you happy? Somehow that concept seems irrelevant here. That's really a pity. I'm very lonesome now. Why do you hurt our feelings? What have you been waiting for? Why haven't you called? You're leading some sort of strange life. You're filthy and unkempt. Ηow did you make such a mess of yourself? What's this? Wait here. I'll be right back. How are you? Everything all right? Where's Hari? What's that? There's no more Hari. "Kris, it's terrible that I had to deceive you,
but there was no other way. This is best for both of us. I asked them myself. You mustn't blame anyone. Hari." She did it for you. Snaut, listen. Later, Kris. Calm down. How... how did it... The annihilator? A burst of light and wind. Yes. Things weren't working out between us towards the end. Listen, Snaut. Why are we being tortured like this? In my opinion, we have lost our sense of the cosmic. The ancients understood it perfectly. They never would have asked why or what for. Remember the myth of Sisyphus. Since we transmitted your encephalogram, none of the guests have come back. Something incomprehensible is starting to take place in the Ocean.
Islands have begun to form on the surface. First one. Then the next day there were several more. Are you trying to tell me that it understood us? That quickly? But at least there's hope, eh, Kris? - Ηow old are you? - Fifty-two. Why? Have you been here long? - You must have seen my forms. - I did. Listen, having spent so many years here on the station, do you still feel a clear connection to your life down there? You like dire questions. Soon you'll ask me about the meaning of life. Wait. Don't be ironic. It's a banal question. When man is happy, the meaning of life and other eternal themes rarely interest him. These questions should be asked at the end of one's life. But we don't know when life will end. That's why we're in such a hurry.
Don't rush. The happiest people are those who are not interested in these cursed questions. To ask is always the desire to know. Yet the preservation of simple human truths requires mystery. The mysteries of happiness, death and love. Maybe you're right, but try not to think about all that now. To think about it is to know the day of one's death. Not knowing that day makes us practically immortal. Fine, then. In any event, my mission is finished. But what next? Return to Earth? Little by little, everything will return to normal. I'll even find new interests and acquaintances. But I won't be able to give myself to them fully. Never. Do I have the right to turn down even an imagined possibility of contact with this Ocean which my race has been trying to understand for decades?
Should I remain here? Among things and objects we both touched? Which still bear the memory of our breath? What for? In the hope that she'll return? But I don't harbor this hope. The only thing left for me is to wait. I don't know what for. New miracles? Are you tired? No, I feel great. You know, Kris... I think it's time you returned to Earth. You think so? TΗE END
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