Definitely Maybe Chapter 5 - Weingarten's Alien Story

Chapter 5 is where this book goes from “something strange is happening” to “okay, what on earth is going on.” Buckle up.

Uninvited Guests

Remember that open door? The voices Malianov heard? Turns out it’s Weingarten. Good old Val. He’s broken into Malianov’s apartment and brought friends.

There’s a handsome stranger named Zakhar Gubar. And a five-year-old boy.

They’ve already found the fancy grocery delivery from earlier and are helping themselves to it. Weingarten has vodka too. Because of course he does.

But here’s the thing that really gets under your skin. The boy. This kid is wrong somehow. Not in an obvious way. He’s quiet, watchful, and when he does speak, it’s not like a child at all. He looks at Malianov and calls him a coward. Straight up. A five-year-old calling a grown man a coward.

Later, when Malianov hesitates to share his story, the boy says “You tell.” Not asks. Commands. And everyone in the room just… listens.

I’ve read a lot of creepy kids in fiction. This one is up there. The Strugatsky brothers don’t explain him. They just let him sit there and be unsettling.

Who is Weingarten?

The book gives us a proper introduction to Val Weingarten here, and he’s a great character.

Malianov has known him since 6th grade. Val is fat, jolly, and loud. He collects things. Stamps, coins, and yes, fossilized excrement. You read that right. The man collects ancient poop. He’s a biologist, so it’s almost professional, but still.

Beyond the collecting, Weingarten is actually brilliant. He runs a department, he’s close to getting a full professorship, and his research is serious. He’s married to a beautiful woman named Sveta. He loves a good fistfight. And Malianov’s wife Irina can’t stand him.

Every friend group has a Weingarten. The guy who’s too much for everyone but you somehow love him anyway.

Malianov Tells His Story

The vodka flows and Malianov finally tells everyone what’s been happening. The strange phone calls, the grocery delivery, Lidochka, the investigation, all of it.

When he gets to Snegovoi’s suicide, Weingarten goes white. Completely pale. He gets up and goes to check the sealed door himself. He needs to see it. He needs to know it’s real.

This reaction tells you everything. Whatever is happening to Malianov is connected to something Weingarten already knows about. He’s not surprised by the weirdness. He’s surprised by the death.

The Red-Haired Man

And then Weingarten tells his own story. This is the part where I had to put the book down for a minute.

Two weeks ago, Weingarten’s biology experiments started producing incredible results. We’re talking Nobel Prize territory. His work on reverse transcriptase was suddenly yielding data that could change everything.

But then the distractions started. Familiar pattern, right?

First, he was offered a position as director of a prestigious institute. A huge promotion. Then his boss suggested he drop the current project. His mother-in-law started calling every day with complaints. Then his aunt died and left behind a treasure chest. Literally a chest full of rare Soviet coins worth a fortune. Each thing by itself was normal enough. But all at once? Right when his research was about to break through?

Sound familiar? Same pattern as Malianov. Same pattern as what happened to Snegovoi.

But Weingarten’s story goes further. Because when he finally sat down to work again, there was a man in his apartment.

A small, pale, red-haired man. Wearing an old-fashioned black coat. He was just there, in a locked apartment, like he’d always been there.

The man told Weingarten that an extraterrestrial civilization was watching him. That they wanted him to stop his research immediately and destroy all his papers. He named others who were being targeted: Malianov, Gubar, Snegovoi.

Then the man gave Weingarten a gift. Stamps. Incredibly rare, priceless stamps from collections that shouldn’t exist anymore.

And then he disappeared. Not walked out. Not left through the door. Vanished into thin air.

Are the Stamps Real?

Yes. The stamps are real. Weingarten is a collector, remember. He knows stamps. These are authentic, impossibly rare, and worth more money than any of them will see in their lifetimes.

This is what makes the Strugatsky brothers so clever. In any other book, you’d have some dramatic proof. A laser gun left behind, or a recording, or burn marks on the floor. Instead, the proof is a stamp collection. Something so ordinary that only an expert would recognize its impossibility.

And that’s the genius of this chapter. Everything that’s happening could still be explained away. Rich aunt dies, leaves coins. Rare stamps show up somehow. Boss wants you to change projects. Each piece has a rational explanation. But all together, the pattern is undeniable.

Something is trying to stop these scientists from working. And it’s using the most personal, specific bait for each one of them.

The question is: what happens to the ones who don’t stop?

We already know what happened to Snegovoi.

Previous: Chapter 4 - Coffee with Vecherovsky Next: Chapter 6 - Gubar’s Nightmare

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