the behavior of Solaris; moreover, the planeto-physicists had established a relationship between certain processes of the plasmic ocean and the local measurements of gravitational pull, which altered according to the 'matter transformations' of the ocean.
Consequently it was the physicists, rather than the biologists, who put forward the paradoxical formulation of a 'plasmic mechanism', implying by this a structure, possibly without life as we conceive it, but capable of performing functional activities—on an astronomic scale, it should be emphasized.
It was during this quarrel, whose reverberations soon reached the ears of the most eminent authorities, that the Gamow-Shapely doctrine, unchallenged for eighty years, was shaken for the first time.
There were some who continued to support the Gamow-Shapley contentions, to the effect that the ocean had nothing to do with life, that it was neither 'parabiological' nor 'prebiological' but a geological formation—of extreme rarity, it is true—with the unique ability to stabilize the orbit of Solaris, despite the variations in the forces of attraction. Le Chatelier's law was enlisted in support of this argument.
To challenge this conservative attitude, new hypotheses were advanced—of which Civito-Vitta's was one of the most elaborate—proclaiming that the ocean was the product of a dialectical development: on the basis of its earliest pre-oceanic form, a solution of slow-reacting chemical elements, and by the force of circumstances (the threat to its existence from the changes of orbit), it had reached in a single bound the stage of 'homeostatic ocean,' without passing through all the stages of terrestrial evolution, by-passing the unicellular and multicellular phases, the vegetable and the animal, the development of a nervous and cerebral system. In other words, unlike terrestrial organisms, it had not taken hundreds of millions of years to adapt itself to its environment—culminating in the first representatives of a species endowed with reason—but dominated its environment immediately.
This was an original point of view. Nevertheless, the means whereby this colloidal envelope was able to stabilize the planet's orbit remained unknown. For almost a century, devices had existed capable of creating artificial magnetic and gravitational fields; they were called gravitors. But no one could even guess how this formless glue could produce an effect which the gravitors achieved by the use of complicated nuclear reactions and enormously high temperatures. The newspapers of the day, exciting the curiosity of the layman and the anger of the scientist, were full of the most improbable embroideries on the theme of the 'Solaris Mystery,' one reporter going so far as to suggest that the ocean was, no less, a distant relation to our electric eels!
Just when a measure of success had been achieved in unravelling this problem, it turned out, as often happened subsequently in the field of Solarist studies, that the explanation replaced one enigma by another, perhaps even more baffling.
Observations showed, at least, that the ocean did not react according to the same principles as our gravitors (which, in any case, would have been impossible), but succeeded in controlling the orbital periodicity directly. One result, among others, was the discovery of discrepancies in the measurement of time along one and the same meridian on Solaris. Thus the ocean was not only in a sense "aware" of the Einstein-Boëvia theory; it was also capable of exploiting the implications of the latter (which was more than we could say of ourselves).
With the publication of this hypothesis, the scientific world was torn by one of the most violent controversies of the century. Revered and universally accepted theories foundered; the specialist literature was swamped by outrageous and heretical treatises; 'sentient ocean' or 'gravity-controlling colloid'—the debate became a burning issue.
All this happened