Марсианские хроники

           Themanwiththeimmensehawknose,sunburnt,peeling—andthehotblueeyeslikeagatemarblesyouplaywithafterschoolinsummerbackonEarth,andthelongthickcolumnarlegsinthelooseridingbreeches.

           "Whatareyoulookingatsohard,Dad?"

           "IwaslookingforEarthianlogic,commonsense,goodgovernment,peace,andresponsibility."

           "Allthatupthere?"

           "No.Ididn’tfindit.It’snotthereanymore.Maybeit’llneverbethereagain.Maybewefooledourselvesthatitwaseverthere."

           "Huh?"

           "Seethefish,"saidDad,pointing.

           Thereroseasopranoclamorfromallthreeboysastheyrockedtheboatinarchingtheirtenderneckstosee.Theyoohedandahed.Asilverringfishfloatedbythem,undulating,andclosinglikeaniris,instantly,aroundfoodpartides,toassimilatethem.

           Dadlookedatit.Hisvoicewasdeepandquiet.

           "Justlikewar.Warswimsalong,seesfood,contracts.Amomentlater—Earthisgone."

           "William,"saidMom.

           "Sorry,"saidDad.

           Theysatstillandfeltthecanalwaterrushcool,swift,andglassy.Theonlysoundwasthemotorhum,theglideofwater,thesunexpandingtheair.

           "WhendoweseetheMartians?"criedMichael.

           "Quitesoon,perhaps,"saidFather."Maybetonight."

           "Oh,buttheMartiansareadeadracenow,"saidMom.

           "No,they’renot.I’llshowyousomeMartians,allright,"Dadsaidpresently.

           Timothyscowledatthatbutsaidnothing.Everythingwasoddnow.Vacationsandfishingandlooksbetweenpeople.