Free Solaris by Stanislaw Lem Page B

getting up again, my terror was gradually
overcome by the conviction that it was the real Rheya there in the
room with me, even though my reason told me that she seemed somehow
stylized, reduced to certain characteristic expressions, gestures
and movements.
    Suddenly, she clung to me.
    "What's happening to us, Kris?" She pressed her fists against my
chest. "Is everything all right? Is there something wrong?"
    "Things couldn't be better."
    She smiled wanly.
    "When you answer me like that, it means things could hardly be
worse."
    "What nonsense!" I said hurriedly. "Rheya, my darling, I must
leave you. Wait here for me." And, because I was becoming extremely
hungry, I added: "Would you like something to eat?"
    "To eat?" She shook her head. "No. Will I have to wait long for
you?"
    "Only an hour."
    "I'm coming with you."
    "You can't come with me. I've got work to do."
    "I'm coming with you."
    She had changed. This was not Rheya at all; the real Rheya never
imposed herself, would never have forced her presence on me.
    "It's impossible, my sweet."
    She looked me up and down. Then suddenly she seized my hand. And
my hand lingered, moved up her warm, rounded arm. In spite of
myself I was caressing her. My body recognized her body; my body
desired her, my body was attracted towards hers beyond reason,
beyond thought, beyond fear.
    Desperately trying to remain calm, I repeated:
    "Rheya, it's out of the question. You must stay here."
    A single word echoed round the room:
    "No."
    "Why?"
    "I…I don't know." She looked around her, then, once more,
raised her eyes to mine. "I can't," she whispered.
    "But why?"
    "I don't know. I can't. It's as though…as
though…"
    She searched for the answer which, as she uttered it, seemed to
come to her like a revelation. "It's as though I mustn't let you
out of my sight."
    The resolute tone of her voice scarcely suggested an avowal of
affection; it implied something quite different. With this
realization, the manner in which I was embracing Rheya underwent an
abrupt, though not immediately noticeable, change.
    I was holding her in my arms and gazing into her eyes.
    Imperceptibly, almost instinctively, I began to pull her hands
together behind her back at the same time searching the room with
my eyes: I needed something with which to tie her hands.
    Suddenly she jerked her elbows together, and there followed a
powerful recoil. I resisted for barely a second. Thrown backwards
and almost lifted off my feet, even had I been an athlete I could
not have freed myself. Rheya straightened up and dropped her arms
to her sides. Her face, lit by an uncertain smile, had played no
part in the struggle.
    She was gazing at me with the same calm interest as when I had
first awakened—as though she was utterly unmoved by my
desperate ploy, as though she was quite unaware that anything had
happened, and had not noticed my sudden panic. She stood before me,
waiting—grave, passive, mildly surprised.
    Leaving Rheya in the middle of the room, I went over to the
washbasin. I was a prisoner, caught in an absurd trap from which at
all costs I was determined to escape. I would have been incapable
of putting into words the meaning of what had happened or what was
going through my mind; but now I realized that my situation was
identical with that of the other inhabitants of the Station, that
everything I had experienced, discovered or guessed at was part of
a single whole, terrifying and incomprehensible. Meanwhile, I was
racking my brain to think up some ruse, to work out some means of
escape. Without turning round, I could feel Rheya's eyes following
me. There was a medicine chest above the basin. Quickly I went
through its contents, and found a bottle of sleeping pills. I shook
out four tablets—the maximum dose—into a glass, and
filled it with hot water. I made little effort to conceal my
actions from Rheya. Why? I did not even bother to ask myself.
    When the tablets had dissolved, I returned to Rheya, who was
still