Марсианские хроники

           "Belter,youknowanythingaboutwhat’supthere?"

           "Whattheytellsme."

           "Whattheytellshim!Christ!Hearthat?Whattheytellshim!"Heswungtheman’sweightbyhissuspenders,idly,eversocasual,flickingafingerintheblackface."Belter,youflyupanduplikeaJulyFourthrocket,andbang!Thereyouare,cinders,spreadalloverspace.Themcrackpotscientists,theydon’tknownothin’,theykillyoualloff!"

           "Idon’tcare."

           "Gladtohearthat.Becauseyouknowwhat’suponthatplanetMars?There’smonsterswithbigraweyeslikemushrooms!Youseenthempicturesonthosefuturemagazinesyoubuyatthedrugstoreforadime,ain’tyou?Well!Themmonstersjumpupandsuckmarrowfromyourbones!"

           "Idon’tcare,don’tcareatall,don’tcare."Belterwatchedtheparadeslideby,leavinghim.Sweatlayonhisdarkbrow.Heseemedabouttocollapse.

           "Andit’scoldupthere;noair,youfalldown,jerklikeafish,gaspin’,dyin’,stranglin’,stranglin’anddyin’.Youlikethat?"

           "LotsofthingsIdon’tlike,sir.Please,sir,letmego.I’mlate."

           "I’llletyougowhenI’mreadytoletyougo.We’lljusttalkherepoliteuntilIsayyoucanleave,andyouknowitdamnwell.Youwanttotravel,doyou?Well,MisterWayupintheMiddleoftheAir,yougetthehellhomeandworkoutthatfiftybucksyouoweme!Takeyoutwomonthstodothat!"

           "ButifIworkitout,I’llmisstherocket,sir!"

           "Ain’tthatashamenow?"Teecetriedtolooksad.