Self-discovery

by Vladimir Savchenko

  “Our expert couldn’t find any evidence of tampering at all, Aleksei Ignatyevich. They’re papers like any papers. Maybe the Kharkov police made a mistake.”

  “Well, that’s a problem for the passport people, not us. The man didn’t commit any crimes — and the case is closed. But what about you, Matvei Apollonovich?” Aleksei Ignatyevich wrinkled up his face merrily and leaned back in his chair. “You wanted to turn the case over to the security organizations. We would really have looked wonderful if we had! Didn’t I tell you: the most seemingly confused cases are always the simplest.”

  And his small wise eyes, set under heavy brows, were surrounded with a sunburst of raylike wrinkles.

  They were walking through Academic Town at midday: Adam on the right, Krivoshein in the middle, Kravets on the left. The asphalt, softened by the heat, was spongy under their feet.

  “Now we’ll be able to work with some knowledge,” Krivoshein was saying. “We’ve learned quite a bit and we’ll learn a lot more. And we’re getting a sense of direction, too. Victor Kravets, did Adam tell you his idea?”

  “He did.”

  “And why are you so indifferent to it?”

  “Well, it’s just one more method. So what?”

  Adam glowered, but said nothing.

  “Why do you say that! The computer — womb introduces information into man firmly and for a long time, for his whole life, not just for the time of the session. And art information could change the personality of a man, improve it — well, the way they improved your appearance compared to mine! Of course, this is serious business, not like going to a movie. We’ll give them fair warning: after being processed by us you will permanently lose your ability to lie, be petty, bully, and fabricate. Not only will you be actively kept from doing evil, but you’ll even lose the ability to hold back from doing good. We can’t guarantee that you will be happy in the sense of having all your needs and wants satisfied. Life will be clearer and harder. But you will be Man!”

  “A joke!” Kravets said. “A way of returning lost innocence!”

  “Why do you say that?” Adam and Krivoshein exclaimed in unison.

  “Because, basically you are planning to simplify and strictly program man with the help of art information. Even if it’s programming for good, for honesty, for self — denial, for a beautiful soul — you won’t have a man; you’ll have a robot! If a man doesn’t lie or bite others because he doesn’t know how it’s done, there’s no merit in his behavior. He’ll live, gather additional information and he’ll learn — and he’ll lie. It’s not hard. But if he knows how to lie and be crafty and put the squeeze on people (and we all know how it’s done; we just don’t admit it) and he knows that applying these little procedures will make his life simpler, and he still doesn’t behave that way — not because he’s afraid of being caught but because he knows that would make life for him and others less desirable — then that’s a real Man!”

  “Well put,” Krivoshein said, “but complicated.”

  “And people are complicated, and are becoming ever more complicated — and there’s no way to simplify them. Why can’t you see that? There’s nothing you can do. People know that evil exists in the world and they take it into account in their thoughts, words, and deeds. No matter what noble — minded information you might introduce into them and no matter how you did it, it would only make them more complex. And that’s all!”

  “Wait,” Adam said angrily. “You don’t have to simplify people to make them better. You’re right: man is no robot, and you can’t limit him with a strict program of good intentions. And it shouldn’t be done. But art information could instill a clear understanding of what’s good in the long run, not just profitable, and what’s bad.”

  “But his goals will remain the same and everything will be subordinate to them. And you can’t inculcate goals in a person — even good ones — otherwise you’re talking about good — natured robots.” Kravets looked at the doubles and laughed. “I’m afraid sheer technology isn’t the answer. Hasn’t it occurred to you that our search for an absolute method comes not from the mind but from a fierce engineering faith in the ability of science and technology to do everything? Yet they can’t, you know, and this approach will get us nowhere. I see a different, clear direction. A new science will develop from our research — Experimental and Theoretical Humanology. A major and necessary science, but not only a science, it will be a whole field of knowledge. It will say: here’s what you are, man. And humanotechnology will arise. It must sound horrible now — a technology of synthesis and introduction of information into man. It will include everything from medicine to mathematics and from electronics to the arts, but it will still only be technology. It will say: here’s what you can do, man. This is how you can change yourself. And then let each and every person think and decide on his own: what do you want, man? what do you want from yourself?”

  Victor’s words had an effect. The three walked in silence for some time — thinking. Academic Town was left far behind. They could see the grounds and the buildings of the institute and beyond them the huge experimental hangar of the construction design bureau, shining glass and steel.

  “Hey guys, what about Lena?” Adam asked and looked at Krivoshein. Kravets looked at him too.

  “Just the way it was,” he insisted. “As far as she’s concerned, nothing happened, understand?”

  Adam and Kravets said nothing.

  They stepped into a long, chestnut — lined alley. It was shady and cooler.

  “ ‘Here’s what you are, man. Here’s what you can do, man. What do you want from yourself, man? “ Krivoshein repeated. “Effectively put. Fantastically put! If I had a lot of money I’d put up an obelisk in every city with the sign: ‘People! Beware of maxims — the bearers of half — truths! There is nothing more false and dangerous than maxims, because they are formulated to accommodate our minds, not life as it is/”

  Kravets gave him a careful look.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that your flaws, Vitya, old boy, are merely an extension of your good qualities. I think that Krivoshein the Original overdid it with you. Personally I could never understand why people with a well — developed sense of logic are identified with smart people.”

  “Why don’t you get to the point.”

  “I can get to the point, Vitya, boy. You began well: man is complicated and free, and he can’t be reorganized and programmed. There will be Humanology and Humanotechnology. And you came to the conclusion that our business is to move the science and technology and drop everything else. Let people decide for themselves. A very convenient conclusion for us, absolutely marvelous. But let’s apply your theory to another subject. Let’s say there’s a science and technology dealing with the atom. And there is you — full of the best intentions, an opponent of atomic weapons. You are given complete freedom to solve the problem: you have the keys to all the atomic arsenals, all the codes and ciphers, entrance to all atomic centers. Act!”

  Adam laughed.

  “How will you use this brilliant opportunity to save the world? I know how. You’ll stand in the middle of an atomic arsenal and bawl with terror.”

  “Why would I be bawling?”

  “Because you don’t know a thing about this stuff, just like other people don’t know about our work. Yes, there will be a science called Humanology. And there’ll be Humanotechnology. But we are the top specialists in that science and technology. And a specialist, besides his general humanitarian responsibilities, has his own as well: he’s responsible for his science and its applications! Because in the final analysis he’s doing it all, with his ideas, knowledge, and decisions. He and no one else! So, willy — nilly, it’s up to us to determine the direction of the development of the synthesis of information in man.”

  “Well, let’s say that’s true.” Kravets wasn’t giving up. How will we direct it? There is no method to apply the discovery with absolute certainty for the benefit of mankind,
as we had pledged a year ago!”

  “Look, guys,” Adam said softly.

  They all turned their heads to the left. A girl was sitting on a bench. A briefcase and crutches lay next to her. Her thin legs in black stockings were extended unnaturally. Spots of sunlight, breaking through the trees, played in her dark hair.

  “Go ahead. I’ll catch up.” Krivoshein went up to her and sat down on the edge of the bench. “Hello, little girl!”

  She raised her big clear eyes, no longer a child’s, at him in surprise.

  “Hello.”

  “Tell me, little girl,” Krivoshein smiled in his most kindly manner so that she wouldn’t take him for a drunk and get scared, “but please don’t be surprised by my question: at your school, do you spit in the ear of someone who hasn’t kept a promise?”

  “No… no,” the girl answered cautiously.

  “In my day, that’s what we did. That was the barbaric custom. And you know what? I give you my word: in less than a year, you will be healthy and beautiful. You’ll run and jump and ride a bike and swim in the river. It will all come true. I promise. You can spit in my ear if it doesn’t.”

  The girl looked at him with full attention. An uncertain smile appeared on her lips.

  “But… we don’t spit. It’s not like that at our school.”

  “I see! And you won’t go to a school like that either. You’ll go to a regular school. You’ll see. I promise.”

  He had nothing else to say. But the girl was looking at him so that he couldn’t possibly leave.

  “My name is Sasha. What’s yours?”

  “Valya… Valentin Vasilyevich.”

  “I know, you live in number thirty — three. I live in thirty — nine, two houses down.”

  “Well, I have to go… to work.”

  “Second shift?”

  “Yes, the second shift. Good — bye, Sasha.”

  “Good — bye.”

  He got up. He smiled and threw his head back, squinting, meaning: don’t give up now; look happy! It’ll be! She threw back her head in reply, squinted, and smiled: don’t worry, I won’t give up. And still he left with the feeling that he had abandoned someone who needed his help.

  The alley led out into the street. Cars sped around beyond the last chestnut trees. All three turned around: the girl was watching them. They waved. She smiled and waved a thin arm.

  “You see, Vitya, lad,” Krivoshein put his arm around Kravets’s shoulder/’you see, Vitya, I still love you, you bum, even though there’s no reason to. You should be whipped with a belt, like father used to have when we were little, but you’re too big and serious for that.”

  “Drop it!” Kravets freed himself.

  “You see, Vitya, our idea of a happiness button was an engineer’s dream. In general people turn to technology for relief from demands on themselves. It’s funny! It’s easy enough to create a happiness button for rats: you implant an electrode in the pleasure center of the cortex and let the rat push a lever to make contact. But that kind of happiness probably won’t do for people although there is a method that is mathematical and not with a button. And we’re reaching it empirically, slowly but surely. The fact that we’re beating our brains out to make sure it benefits people, and not just ourselves, and that we won’t accept any other way — that’s part of the method. And the fact that Adam could overcome his fears and come back with a good idea — that comes from the method, too. Of course, if the experiment had been more thoroughly prepared he might still be alive, but none of us is perfect or guaranteed everlasting life: that’s the nature of the work. And the fact that he chose to synthesize people and not microelectronic machines, which would have been simpler and more lucrative — that’s part of the method, too. And the fact that we have gathered knowledge about our discovery. We’re not dilettantes or amateurs any more — and neither work nor arguments can throw us off the track. We can throw whomever we want off. And in an honest argument, knowledge is the best weapon.”

  “How about in a dishonest one?”

  “It works there, too. Harry got squeezed — with the method. We got out of a tight fix and saved the project — also part of it. We can do a lot: work, and fight, and politic. Of course, it would be better if we got along, but we can manage even if we don’t. Adam, give me a cigarette, will you? I’m all out.”

  Krivoshein lit up and continued:

  “And in the future we should be guided by this empirical method in our work and in life. First and foremost, we work together. The most terrible thing in our work is being alone. Look what it led to. Let’s gather smart, honest, strong, and knowledgeable men around the project. To make sure that the hand of a bastard, fool, or banality never touches our discovery at any point. So that there will be someone to raise the alarm! And we’ll attract Azarov, and Vano Aleksandrovich Androsiashvili — he’s someone I’ve been thinking about. We’ll even try Valery Ivanov… and if we work this way everything will be ‘it’ including the method for duplicating people, duplicating them with alterations, and the informational transformation of regular people.”

  “But this is still not an engineering solution. There is no one hundred percent guarantee,” Kravets said stubbornly. “We can try, of course. Do you think Azarov will join us?”

  “Of course, where else could he go? Yes, this isn’t an engineering solution, but an organizational one. And it’s not simple; it lacks the logical simplicity we all want. But we have no choice. We’ll gather talented researchers, builders, doctors, artists, sculptors, psychologists, musicians, writers, and just simple people — they know about life and man too. We’ll start injecting our discovery into life with small but very necessary things: curing disease and deformity, correcting physical appearance and the psychological problems. And then, you’ll see, we’ll gradually develop information for a universal program for the computer — womb to instill the best that mankind has collected into the mind and body of man.”

  The UPPM,” Victor said. “The Universal Program for Perfecting Man. I like it! Well, well….”

  “We’ll try,” Adam said stubbornly. “There is no hundred — percent guarantee; it’s not all in our control. Maybe it won’t work. But if we don’t try, nothing will happen at all. And you know, I think that there isn’t that much work left. It’s important to shift in one or two generations the process of man’s development in the right direction, and the work will go on without computers.”

  “It will all go in it.” Krivoshein remembered the last entry in the diary. “The daring of talented ideas and a child’s awe before the complex magnificence of the world, the roar of a stormy sea and the wise beauty of lab equipment, the great pain of love and the esthetics of sex, the fierceness of getting ahead and the rapture of interesting work, the blue sky and the aroma of sun — baked grass, the wisdom of old age and the confidence of maturity… and even the memory of bad times and mistakes, so that they won’t be repeated! It will all go in: the knowledge of the world, understanding one another, peace and stubbornness, dreaminess and healthy skepticism, great thoughts and the ability to achieve them. In general the greater part has been done for a good life — and there is less left to do!”

  “Let people be whatever way they want to be. Just let them want!”

  The sun was yellow and hot. Cars rustled and murmured past. Pedestrians shuffled through the heat. A policeman directed traffic in the intersection.

  They walked on, leaving imprints in the asphalt. Three engineers on their way to work.

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