Solaris Read Online Free PDF Page B

ocean were named after the
scientists who had explored them. I was examining Thexall's swell,
which surrounded the equatorial archipelagos, when I had a sudden
sensation of being watched.
    I was still leaning over the map, but I no longer saw it; my
limbs were in the grip of a sort of paralysis. The crates and a
small locker still barricaded the door, which was in front of me.
It's only a robot, I told myself—yet I had not discovered any
in the room and none could have entered without my knowledge. My
back and my neck seemed to be on fire; the sensation of this
relentless, fixed stare was becoming unbearable. With my head
shrinking between my hunched shoulders, I leant harder and harder
against the table, until it began slowly to slide away. The
movement released me; I spun round.
    The room was empty. There was nothing in front of me except the
wide convex window and, beyond it, the night. But the same
sensation persisted. The night stared me in the face, amorphous,
blind, infinite, without frontiers. Not a single star relieved the
darkness behind the glass. I pulled the thick curtains. I had been
in the Station less than an hour, yet already I was showing signs
of morbidity. Was it the effect of Gibarian's death? In so far as I
knew him, I had imagined that nothing could shake his nerve: now, I
was no longer so sure.
    I stood in the middle of the room, beside the table. My
breathing became more regular, I felt the sweat chill on my
forehead. What was it I had been thinking about a moment ago? Ah,
yes, robots! It was surprising that I had not come across one
anywhere on the Station. What could have become of them all? The
only one with which I had been in contact—at a
distance—belonged to the vehicle reception services. But what
about the others?
    I looked at my watch. It was time to rejoin Snow.
    I left the room. The dome was feebly lit by luminous filaments
running the length of the ceiling. I went up to Gibarian's door and
stood there, motionless. There was total silence. I gripped the
handle. I had in fact no intention of going in, but the handle went
down and the door opened, disclosing a chink of darkness. The
lights went on. In one quick movement, I entered and silently
closed the door behind me. Then I turned round.
    My shoulders brushed against the door panels. The room was
larger than mine. A curtain decorated with little pink and blue
flowers (not regulation Station equipment, but no doubt brought
from Earth with his personal belongings) covered three-quarters of
the panoramic window. Around the walls were bookshelves and
cupboards, painted pale green with silvery highlights. Both shelves
and cupboards had been emptied of their contents, which were piled
into heaps, amongst the furniture. At my feet, blocking the way,
were two overturned trolleys buried beneath a heap of periodicals
spilling out of bulging brief cases which had burst open. Books
with their pages splayed out fanwise were stained with colored
liquids which had spilt from broken retorts and bottles with
corroded stoppers, receptacles made of such thick glass that a
single fall, even from a considerable height, could not have
shattered them in such a way. Beneath the window lay an overturned
desk, an anglepoise lamp crumpled underneath it; two legs of an
upturned stool were stuck in the half-open drawers. A flood of
papers of every conceivable size swamped the floor. My interest
quickened as I recognized Gibarian's hand-writing. As I stooped to
gather together the loose sheets, I noticed that my hand was
casting a double shadow.
    I straightened up. The pink curtain glowed brightly, traversed
by a streak of incandescent, steely-blue light which was gradually
widening. I pulled the curtain aside. An unbearable glare extended
along the horizon, chasing before it an army of spectral shadows,
which rose up from among the waves and dispersed in the direction
of the Station. It was the dawn. After an hour of darkness the
planet's second sun—the blue