Definitely Maybe Chapter 7 - A Debate with No Answers

Chapter 7 is where the talking starts for real. Everyone is gathered at Malianov’s place, and they’re waiting for Vecherovsky like students waiting for the professor to arrive and explain the exam.

The Full Cast

So here’s the room. You’ve got Malianov, Weingarten, Zakhar with his strange boy, and now Vecherovsky walks in. There’s also Glukhov, the orientalist. He’s a new face. The guy studies ancient languages or something like that, and he’s pleasant enough. Nice man. Likes vodka, likes TV, likes a good mystery novel. His contribution to the group? He has headaches. Real, awful headaches. But beyond that, nothing strange happened to him. No mysterious women, no cognac deliveries, no dead neighbors.

Meanwhile, Gubar’s son is sitting there reading aloud from a medical encyclopedia. Just a kid doing weird kid things. But in a Strugatsky novel, nothing is just background noise. Remember that.

Glukhov is a cozy guy. The kind of person you’d want at your dinner table. But he adds nothing to the investigation. He’s just… there. And that will matter later.

Vecherovsky Listens

Vecherovsky does what smart people do. He shuts up and listens. He asks questions that seem completely random. Does Zakhar fight with his bosses at work? Does Glukhov watch a lot of television? These sound like small talk, but they’re not. Vecherovsky is building a picture in his head. He’s sorting people into categories that nobody else can see yet.

Everyone waits for his verdict. There’s this feeling in the room like when the doctor finishes your exam and you’re just sitting there in your underwear waiting to hear if it’s bad news.

The Trap

And then Vecherovsky does something brilliant. And honestly, kind of cruel.

He pretends to take Weingarten’s alien theory completely seriously. He lays out a grand plan. Let’s contact the top mathematicians. Let’s go to the government. Let’s unite humanity against this supercivilization. He even names specific people and institutions. Real names. Places you could actually call.

Weingarten tears it apart immediately. Are you insane? No academician would touch this story with a ten-foot pole. We’d be laughed out of every office in Moscow. They’d send us to a psychiatric hospital. Our careers would be finished. Nobody would believe us because we have zero proof that any sane person would accept.

And he’s right. Completely, painfully right.

Then Vecherovsky reveals that this was the whole point. He set the trap on purpose. He wanted Weingarten to prove, with his own words, that the alien hypothesis leads absolutely nowhere. Even if aliens are doing this, there’s nothing anyone can do about it. Going to the authorities is a dead end. Going to fellow scientists is a dead end. Going to anyone is a dead end.

I’ve seen this move in real life. In academic meetings, sometimes the smartest person in the room lets you argue yourself into a corner. It’s effective. It’s also the kind of thing that makes people furious.

The Real Message

So what does Vecherovsky actually want them to understand?

Stop asking “who is doing this?” Stop asking “what is the force behind it?” Those questions don’t help. The only question that matters is: “How do I behave under this pressure?”

Each person is alone. Nobody is coming to save them. No government, no academy, no army. Each scientist has to decide for themselves what they’re going to do.

This is a very Soviet idea, by the way. I grew up hearing versions of this. The system will not help you. Your boss will not help you. Your union will not help you. In the end, it’s just you and your conscience standing in a room together.

The boy points his chocolate-covered finger at Vecherovsky and calls him “a sneak.” Kids see through things faster than adults.

Glukhov’s Answer

Then Glukhov speaks up. And his answer is so simple it almost sounds wise. Just stop working. Enjoy life. Watch TV. Drink tea. Look at the sky. Why fight it?

It sounds reasonable. It sounds peaceful. It sounds like something you’d read on a self-help Instagram page.

But Vecherovsky turns cold. He tells the group that he remembers Glukhov from years ago. The man used to be sharp. Energetic. Full of fire. Now look at him. Glukhov hasn’t found peace. Glukhov has been broken. The pressure already got to him, and he gave up so long ago that he forgot he ever fought.

This is one of the most brutal moments in the book so far. Because Glukhov isn’t a villain. He’s a nice man. But nice men who give up and then try to convince others to give up too? That’s dangerous. That’s how the pressure wins.

The Cracks Show

Zakhar explodes. He shouts that Snegovoi is dead. That Vecherovsky sits there safe in his suit playing logic games while real people are getting destroyed. It’s raw and angry and you can’t really argue with it.

Glukhov quietly excuses himself and leaves.

And that’s the thing about this chapter. Nobody gets an answer. Vecherovsky tells them what won’t work, but he doesn’t tell them what will. He says they’re alone, but he doesn’t say how to survive being alone. He dismantles every theory and every hope and leaves them sitting in a hot apartment with nothing.

The Strugatsky brothers were writing about the Soviet intelligentsia here. The educated people who could see the problems clearly but had no power to fix them. Vecherovsky is the smartest one in the room, and even he has nothing to offer except the cold truth. You’re on your own. Now what?

That question hangs in the air like cigarette smoke. Nobody answers it.

Previous: Chapter 6 - Gubar’s Nightmare Next: Chapter 8 - The Homeostatic Universe

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