268
VLADIMIR DUDINSTEV
music was accompanied by a solemn buzzing sound that faded
in
the distance-those were planes flying over the town bearing
a precious load. They were carrying the first spring to the dark
continent. But I was not aware of this, for I felt very low; I
had grown extremely weak; and I waited for my colleagues to
bring me some good news. Moreover, the owl alarmed me: it
was walking near my bed in a state of strange excitement,
shaking its feathers and flapping its wings. There is nothing
harder than to part with life if one has not yet brought to
a conclusion some project essential for mankind and one de–
pendent upon our efforts.
Then drowsiness overcame me. Somewhere the staircase
hummed, doors banged, hurried steps shuffled. But I did not
hear this. I heard only the doctor's voice, that of myoId school
friend:
"He's still alive!"
He sat down by my head and with trembling hands began
to unscrew a copper cartridge.
"Faster, faster, tell me!" I wanted to cry out.
And I did, because my sickness had left me.
A dazzling drop quivered in the doctor's hands, drown–
ing the entire room in sunlight. I knew about it long ago; I
had dreamt of it. Shutting my eyes, I had often seen it even
when I had just begun to install the apparatus. But now I
could not look at this too resplendent, little sun. I got up from
bed, staggering on my feeble legs. My companion ran to
support me, but I stopped her with a gesture of my hands and
walked the length of the room by myself. I even stamped my
feet! My wife, radiant and unbelieving, leaned against the wall.
"Thank you, doctor," she whispered.
"What for? He triumphed over his
own
death. He,
himself, discovered the medicine! It is
his
own light!"
The staircase hummed again, doors banged and a whole
crowd of people burst into the room. Here were my colleagues
and a multitude of others whom I did not know. I was "Sur-
