"Stanislaw Lem - Ijon Tichy 05 - Peace on Earth" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lem Stanislaw)

to it; the right side can only listen in. Its capacity for language is extremely limited."
"Perhaps in others but not in me," I said, holding my left wrist with my right hand, to be safe. "It's
mute, yes, but I've taught it sign language, you see. Which wasn't easy."
"Impossible!"
The gleam in the professor's eyes, I had seen it before in his American colleagues, and
immediately regretted telling him the truth. But it was too late now.
"The right hemisphere can't conjugate verbs! That's been proved. . ."
"Doesn't matter. Verbs are unnecessary."
"All right, then. Ask it, please, I mean ask yourself, what it thinks of our conversation? Can you
do that?"
I put my right hand in the left one, patting it a few times to pacify it, because that was the best
way to begin, then made signs, touching the palm of my left hand. Its fingers began to move. I watched
them for a while, then, trying to hide my anger, put the left hand on my knee, though it resisted. Of course
it pinched me hard on the thigh. I didn't retaliate, not wanting to wrestle with myself in front of the
professor.
 "Well, what did it say?" he asked, imprudently leaning forward from behind the chair.
"Nothing really."
"But I saw myself that it made signs. They weren't coherent?"
"Coherent, yes, very coherent, but nothing important."
"Tell me! In science everything is important."
"It said I'm an asshole."
The professor didn't even smile, he was so impressed.
"Really? Ask it about me now."
"If you wish."
Again I addressed my left hand, and pointed at the professor. This time I didn't have to pat it; it
replied immediately.
"Well?"
"You're an asshole too."
"Is that what it said?"
"Yes. It may not be able to handle verbs but it can make itself understood. I still don't know who
is speaking. Speaking with fingers or lips, it makes no difference. In my head, is there an I and an It as
well? And if an It, how is it I don't experience what it experiences even though it's in my head and part
of my brain? It's not external, after all. If my consciousness was doubled and everything confused, I
could understand that -- but this, no. Where did it come from, this It? Is it also Ijon Tichy? And if so,
why do I have to speak to it indirectly, by signs, professor? And why does it cause me so much trouble?"
No longer seeing any sense in reticence, I told him all about the scenes on the subway and the bus. He
was fascinated.
"Blondes only?"
"Mainly. They can be bleached blondes."
"Is this still going on?"
"Not on the bus."
"Elsewhere?"
"I don't know, I haven't tried. I mean, I haven't given it the opportunity. If you must know, I was
slapped several times. It embarrassed and angered me, being slapped, because I wasn't guilty, yet at the
same time I was pleased. But once a woman slapped me and the slap landed fully on the left cheek, and
when that happened I didn't feel the slightest pleasure. I thought this over and finally figured out the
reason."
"But of course!" cried the professor. "When the left-hemisphere Tichy was slapped on the cheek
for the right-hemisphere Tichy, the right-hemisphere Tichy was pleased. But when the slap was wholly on
the left, it didn't like that at all."