Пролетая над гнездом кукушки

           Igotoclawingatthatdamnedsheettiedacrossmeandjustabouthaveitloosewhenawholewallslidesup,revealsahugeroomofendlessmachinesstretchingclearoutofsight,swarmingwithsweating,shirtlessmenrunningupanddowncatwalks,facesblankanddreamyinfirelightthrownfromahundredblastfurnaces.

           It—everythingIsee—lookslikeitsounded,liketheinsideofatremendousdam.Hugebrasstubesdisappearupwardinthedark.Wiresruntotransformersoutofsight.Greaseandcinderscatchoneverything,stainingthecouplingsandmotorsanddynamosredandcoalblack.

           Theworkersallmoveatthesamesmoothsprint,aneasy,fluidstride.Noone’sinahurry.Onewillholdupasecond,spinadial,pushabutton,throwaswitch,andonesideofhisfaceflasheswhitelikelightningfromthesparkoftheconnectingswitch,andrunon,upsteelstepsandalongacorrugatedironcatwalk—passeachothersosmoothandcloseIheartheslapofwetsidesliketheslapofasalmon’stailonwater—stopagain,throwlightningfromanotherswitch,andrunonagain.Theytwinkleinalldirectionscleanonoutofsight,theseflashpicturesofthedreamydollfacesoftheworkmen.

           Aworkman’seyessnapshutwhilehe’sgoingatfullrun,andhedropsinhistracks;twoofhisbuddiesrunningbygrabhimupandlateralhimintoafurnaceastheypass.ThefurnacewhoopsaballoffireandIhearthepoppingofamilliontubeslikewalkingthroughafieldofseedpods.Thissoundmixeswiththewhirrandclangoftherestofthemachines.

           There’sarhythmtoit,likeathunderingpulse.