QUESTION: If it was as big as that, what makes you say it was a child?

BERTON: Because it was a tiny child.

QUESTION: Do you realize, Berton, that your answer doesn’t make sense?

BERTON: On the contrary. I could see its face, and it was a very young child. Besides, its proportions corresponded exactly to the proportions of a child’s body. It was a… babe in arms. No, I exaggerate. It was probably two or three years old. It had black hair and blue eyes — enormous blue eyes! It was naked — completely naked — like a newborn baby. It was wet, or I should say glossy; its skin was shiny. I was shattered. I no longer thought it was a mirage. I could see this child so distinctly. It rose and fell with the waves; but apart from this general motion, it was making other movements, and they were horrible!

QUESTION: Why? What was it doing?

BERTON: It was more like a doll in a museum, only a living doll. It opened and closed its mouth, it made various gestures, horrible gestures.

QUESTION: What do you mean?

BERTON: I was watching it from about twenty yards away — I don’t suppose I went any closer. But, as I’ve already told you, it was enormous. I could see very clearly. Its eyes sparkled and you really would have thought it was a living child, if it hadn’t been for the movements, the gestures, as though someone was trying… It was as though someone else was responsible for the gestures…

QUESTION: Try to be more explicit.

BERTON: It’s difficult. I’m talking of an impression, more of an intuition. I didn’t analyze it, but I knew that those gestures weren’t natural.

QUESTION: Do you mean, for example, that the hands didn’t move as human hands would move, because the joints were not sufficiently supple?

BERTON: No, not at all. But… these movements had no meaning. Each of our movements means something, more or less, serves some purpose…

QUESTION: Do you think so? The movements of an infant don’t have much meaning!

BERTON: I know. But an infant’s movements are confused, random, uncoordinated. The movements I saw were… er… yes, that’s it, they were methodical movements. They were performed one after another, like a series of exercises; as though someone had wanted to make a study of what this child was capable of doing with its hands, its torso, its mouth. The face was more horrifying than the rest, because the human face has an expression, and this face… I don’t know how to describe it. It was alive, yes, but it wasn’t human. Or rather, the features as a whole, the eyes, the complexion, were, but the expression, the movements of the face, were certainly not.

QUESTION: Were they grimaces? Do you know what happens to a person’s face during an epileptic fit?

BERTON: Yes. I’ve watched an epileptic fit. I know what you mean. No, it was something quite different. Epilepsy provokes spasms, convulsions. The movements I’m talking about were fluid, continuous, graceful… melodious, if one can say that of a movement. It’s the nearest definition I can think of. But this face… a face can’t divide itself into two — one half gay, the other sad, one half scowling and the other amiable, one half frightened and the other triumphant. But that’s how it was with this child’s face. In addition to that, all these movements and changes of expression succeeded one another with unbelievable rapidity. I stayed down there a very short time, perhaps ten seconds, perhaps less.

QUESTION: And you claim to have seen all that in such a short time? Besides, how do you know how long you were there? Did you check your chronometer?

BERTON: No, but I’ve been flying for seventeen years and, in my job, one can measure instinctively, to the nearest second, the duration of what would be called an instant of time. It’s an acquired faculty, and essential for successful navigation. A pilot isn’t worth his salt if he can’t tell whether a particular phenomenon lasts five or ten seconds, whatever the circumstances. It’s the same with observation. We learn, over the years, to take in everything at a glance.

QUESTION: Is that all you saw?

BERTON: No, but I don’t remember the rest so precisely. I suppose I must already have seen more than enough; my attention faltered. The fog began to close in, and I had to climb. I climbed, and for the first time in my life I all but capsized. My hands were shaking so much that I had difficulty in handling the controls. I think I shouted something, called up the base, even though I knew we were not in radio contact.

QUESTION: Did you then try and get back?

BERTON: No. In the end, having gamed height, I thought to myself that Fechner was probably in the bottom of one of the wells. I know it sounds crazy, but that’s what I thought. I told myself that everything was possible, and that it would also be possible for me to find Fechner. I decided to investigate every clearing I came across along my route. At the third attempt I gave up. When I had regained height, I knew it was useless to persist after what I had just seen on this, the third, occasion. I couldn’t go on any longer. I should add, as you already know, that I was suffering from bouts of nausea and that I vomited in the cockpit. I couldn’t understand it; I have never been sick in my life.

COMMENT: It was a symptom of poisoning.

BERTON: Perhaps. I don’t know. But what I saw on this third occasion I did not imagine. That was not the effect of poisoning.

QUESTION: How can you possibly know?

BERTON: It wasn’t an hallucination. An hallucination is created by one’s own brain, wouldn’t you say?

COMMENT: Yes.

BERTON: Well, my brain couldn’t have created what I saw. I’ll never believe that. My brain wouldn’t have been capable of it.

COMMENT: Get on with describing what it was!

BERTON: Before I do so, I should like to know how the statements I’ve already made will be interpreted.

QUESTION: What does that matter?

BERTON: For me, it matters very much indeed. I have said that I saw things which I shall never forget. If the Commission recognizes, even with certain reservations, that my testimony is credible, and that a study of the ocean must be undertaken — I mean a study orientated in the light of my statements — then I’ll tell everything. But if the Commission considers that it is all delusions, then I refuse to say anything more.

QUESTION: Why?

BERTON: Because the contents of my hallucinations belong to me and I don’t have to give an account of them, whereas I am obliged to give an account of what I saw on Solaris.

QUESTION: Does that mean that you refuse to answer any more questions until the expedition authorities have announced their findings? You realize, of course, that the Commission isn’t empowered to take an immediate decision?

BERTON: Yes.

The first minute ended here. There followed a fragment of the second minute drawn up eleven days later.

PRESIDENT:… after due consideration, the Commission, composed of three doctors, three biologists, a physicist, a mechanical engineer and the deputy head of the expedition, has reached the conclusion that Berton’s report is symptomatic of hallucinations caused by atmospheric poisoning, consequent upon inflammation of the associative zone of the cerebral cortex, and that Berton’s account bears no, or at any rate no appreciable, relation to reality.

BERTON: Excuse me, what does “no appreciable relation” mean? In what proportion is reality appreciable or not?

PRESIDENT: I haven’t finished. Independently of these conclusions, the Commission has duly registered a dissenting vote from Dr. Archibald Messenger, who considers the phenomena described by Berton to be objectively possible and declares himself in favor of a scrupulous investigation.

BERTON: I repeat my question.

PRESIDENT: The answer is simple. “No appreciable relation to reality” means that phenomena actually observed may have formed the basis of your hallucinations. In the course of a nocturnal stroll, a perfectly sane man can imagine he sees a living creature in a bush stirred by the wind. Such illusions are all the more likely to affect an explorer lost on a strange planet and breathing a poisonous atmosphere. This verdict is in no way prejudicial to you, Berton. Will you now be good enough to let us know your decision?