Марсианские хроники

           "Allright,"hiswifesaid.

           Hemovedquietlydownthroughaseriesofruins."MadeinNewYork,"hereadfromapieceofmetalashepassed."AndallthesethingsfromEarthwillbegonelongbeforetheoldMartiantowns."Helookedtowardthefifty-centuries-oldvillagethatlayamongthebluemountains.

           HecametoasolitaryMartiangraveyard,aseriesofsmallhexagonalstonesonahillsweptbythelonelywind.

           Hestoodlookingdownatfourgraveswithcrudewoodencrossesonthem,andnames.Tearsdidnotcometohiseyes.Theyhaddriedlongago.

           "DoyouforgivemeforwhatI’vedone?"heaskedofthecrosses."Iwasverymuchalone.Youdounderstand,don’tyou?"

           Hereturnedtothestonehutandoncemore,justbeforegoingin,shadedhiseyes,searchingtheblacksky.

           "Youkeepwaitingandwaitingandlooking,"hesaid,"andonenight,perhaps—"

           Therewasatinyredflameonthesky.

           Hesteppedawayfromthelightofthehut.

           "—andyoulookagain,"hewhispered.

           Thetinyredflamewasstillthere.

           "Itwasn’ttherelastnight,"hewhispered.

           Hestumbledandfell,pickedhimselfup,ranbehindthehut,swiveledthetelescope,andpointeditatthesky.

           Aminutelater,afteralongwildstaring,heappearedinthelowdoorofthehut.Thewifeandthetwodaughtersandthesonturnedtheirheadstohim.Finallyhewasabletospeak

           "Ihavegoodnews,"hesaid."Ihavelookedatthesky.Arocketiscomingtotakeusallhome.Itwillbehereintheearlymorning."