Stalker Page #3

it just warned you.

I guess I'll wait for you here

until you come back,

made happy.

It's impossible!

I've got sandwiches, a thermos...

You won't last even an hour here

without me.

Besides, one doesn't return here

the way one comes.

Anyway, I would prefer...

Then we're going back right away.

I'll return your money

minus a certain sum

for the trouble, so to speak...

Have you come to your senses,

Professor?

All right. Go on, throw your nut.

Part Two

STALKER:

Where are you?

Come here!

Are you tired?

Oh, God!

Judging by his tone, he's going to

start sermonizing again.

Let everything that's been planned

come true.

Let them believe.

And let them have a laugh

at their passions.

Because what they call passion

actually is not some emotional energy,

but just the friction between

their souls and the outside world.

And most important,

let them believe in themselves

let them be helpless like children,

because weakness is a great thing,

and strength is nothing.

When a man is just born,

he is weak and flexible,

when he dies,

he is hard and insensitive.

When a tree is growing,

it's tender and pliant,

but when it's dry and hard,

it dies.

Hardness and strength

are death's companions.

Pliancy and weakness are

expressions of the freshness of being.

Because what has hardened

will never win.

Come here!

We're progressing well.

Soon we'll come to a dry tunnel,

after that it will get easier.

Knock on wood.

- Are we on our way already?

- Of course. Why?

I thought you just wanted

to show us something.

- What about my knapsack?

- What about it?

I left it there.

I didn't know we were going.

- There's nothing we can do about it.

- No, we have to go back.

- It's impossible!

- I can't do without my knapsack!

Can't you understand that no one here

has ever come back the same way?

Forget about your knapsack.

What have you got there, diamonds?

The room will give you

anything you want.

Really. It will drown you

in knapsacks.

How far is it, this room?

If you go straight, about 200 meters,

but there's no going straight here.

Let's go.

Give up your empiricism, Professor.

Miracles are outside empiricism.

Remember how St. Peter

was nearly drowned?

Go, Writer.

Go where?

Up these stairs.

Professor, where are you?

Here is the dry tunnel!

You call it dry?

This is a local joke.

Normally one has to swim here.

Wait, where's Professor?

- What?

- Professor has disappeared!

How could it happen?

He was following you all the way.

He probably lagged behind and

lost his way.

No, he didn't lose his way!

He must've gone for the knapsack!

He won't be able to make it now.

Shall we wait for him?

We can't. Things change here

every minute. We'll have to go.

Look! What is it? How could it be?

- I already explained.

- What did you explain?

It's the Zone, don't you understand?

Let's go, quick. It's...

There he is!

I'm certainly grateful to you

that you... but...

How did you get here?

Mostly I had to crawl up here

on my fours.

Incredible.

How did you manage to overtake us?

What do you mean, "overtake"?

I came back here for the knapsack.

And how has our nut gotten here?

Oh, my God, that's...

the trap!

Porcupine put this nut here

on purpose.

How could the Zone let us through?

Oh God, I'm not going

to take one more step until...

I don't like it.

That's it! We rest!

But keep off this nut,

just in case.

Sorry, but I thought that

Professor won't be able to make it.

You see, I...

I never know beforehand what kind

of people I'm taking with me.

Everything gets clear only here,

when it's too late.

What's important is that Professor's

bag with his underwear is safe.

Don't stick your nose in someone's

underwear if you don't understand it.

What is there to understand?

Binomial theorem?

Some psychological abysses!

You have a bad reputation

at your institute.

They don't give you money

for an expedition.

So you decide to pack a knapsack

full of manometers and other sh*t...

penetrate the Zone illegally...

and put all these miracles

to an algebra test.

No one in the world

has ever heard of the Zone.

So we'll work a sure sensation!

The television, fans raving

and bringing laurel wreaths.

Here our Professor appears,

all in white,

and declares:

"Mene-mene, tekel, uprasin."

Everyone gaping

and shouting:

"He deserves a Nobel Prize!"

You lousy scribbler,

a homespun psychoanalyst.

You're only good for painting walls

in public toilets, you blabbermouth.

No good. Too sluggish.

You don't know how to do it.

All right. I'm going to get

a Nobel Prize.

And what are you after?

Want to bless mankind

with the pearls

of your purchased inspiration?

I don't care a damn about mankind.

Of all your mankind

I'm interested

only in one man-myself.

Whether I'm worth anything

or I'm just sh*t like others.

And if you find out

that you're really...

You know, Mr. Einstein,

I have no wish to argue with you.

Truth is born of argument,

damn it!

Listen, Chingachgook...

You've brought here

many people.

Not as many as I would like.

That's not the point. Why did they

come here? What did they want?

Happiness, I guess.

Yes, but what kind of happiness?

People don't like to speak about

their innermost feelings.

And it's neither yours

nor mine business.

In any case, you've been lucky.

As for me, I haven't seen

one happy man in my life.

Me neither.

They return from the room

and I lead them back,

and we never see each other again.

It's not that wishes come true

immediately.

Have you ever wished

to use this room yourself?

I'm fine as I am.

Listen, Professor.

Speaking of the purchased inspiration.

Let's imagine that I enter this room

and return to our God-forsaken

town a genius.

A man writes because he's tormented,

because he doubts.

He needs to constantly prove

to himself and the others

that he's worth something.

And if I know for sure

that I'm a genius?

Why write then?

What the hell for?

Well, I must say

that we exist for...

Will you be so kind

and leave me alone?

Let me get a wink,

I haven't slept all night.

Keep your complexes to yourself.

In any case,

all this technology of yours...

all those blast furnaces, wheels...

and other bullshit

are only designed in order

to work less and eat more.

They are all just crutches,

artificial limbs.

And mankind exists

in order to create...

works of art.

Unlike all other human activities,

this one is unselfish.

Great illusions!

Images of the absolute truth!

Are you listening to me, Professor?

What unselfishness are you talking

about?

People still die of hunger.

Have you fallen from the moon?

And they are considered to be

our brainy aristocracy!

You're not even capable of thinking

in abstractions.

Are you going to teach me

about the meaning of life?

And also how to think?

It's useless. You might be

a professor, but an ignorant one.

And there was

a great earthquake.

And the sun became black

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