Марсианские хроники

           Thewomensweptaboutinredgowns,laughing.Themendancedthemattendance.Andonthewallswereshadowswithnopeopletothrowthem,andhereorthereweremirrorsinwhichnoimageshowed."Allofusvampires!"laughedMr.Fletcher."Dead!"

           Thereweresevenrooms,eachadifferentcolor,oneblue,onepurple,onegreen,oneorange,anotherwhite,thesixthviolet,andtheseventhshroudedinblackvelvet.Andintheblackroomwasanebonyclockwhichstruckthehourloud.Andthroughtheseroomstheguestsran,drunkatlast,amongtherobotfantasies,amidtheDormiceandMadHatters,theTrollsandGiants,theBlackCatsandWhiteQueens,andundertheirdancingfeetthefloorgaveoffthemassivepumpingbeatofahiddenandtelltaleheart.

           "Mr.Stendahl!"

           Awhisper.

           "Mr.Stendahl!"

           AmonsterwiththefaceofDeathstoodathiselbow.ItwasPikes."Imustseeyoualone."

           "Whatisit?"

           "Here."Pikesheldoutaskeletonhand.Initwereafewhalf-melted,charredwheels,nuts,cogs,bolts.

           Stendahllookedatthemforalongmoment.ThenhedrewPikesintoacorridor."Garrett?"hewhispered.

           Pikesnodded."Hesentarobotinhisplace.Cleaningouttheincineratoramomentago,Ifoundthese."

           Theybothstaredatthefatefulcogsforatime.

           "Thismeansthepolicewillbehereanyminute,"saidPikes."Ourplanwillberuined."

           "Idon’tknow."Stendahlglancedinatthewhirlingyellowandblueandorangepeople.Themusicsweptthroughthemistinghalls.