Марсианские хроники

           Ifsomethingbadhappens,ourcrewcanwarnthenextrocket.That’sCaptainWilder’srocket,Ithink,duetobereadytotakeoffnextChristmas.ifthere’ssomethinghostileaboutMarswecertainlywantthenextrockettobewellarmed."

           "Soarewe.We’vegotaregulararsenalwithus."

           "Tellthementostandbythegunsthen.Comeon,Lustig,Hinkston."

           Thethreemenwalkedtogetherdownthroughthelevelsoftheship.

           Itwasabeautifulspringday.Arobinsatonablossomingappletreeandsangcontinuously.Showersofpetalsnowsifteddownwhenthewindtouchedthegreenbranches,andtheblossomscentdriftedupontheair.Somewhereinthetownsomeonewasplayingthepianoandthemusiccameandwent,cameandwent,softly,drowsily.Thesongwas"BeautifulDreamer."Somewhereelseaphonograph,scratchyandfaded,washissingoutarecordof"Roamin’intheGloamin’,"sungbyHarryLauder.

           Thethreemenstoodoutsidetheship.Theysuckedandgaspedatthethin,thinairandmovedslowlysoasnottotirethemselves.

           Nowthephonographrecordbeingplayedwas:

           "Oh,givemeaJunenight

           Themoonlightandyou…"

           Lustigbegantotremble.SamuelHinkstondidlikewise.

           Theskywassereneandquiet,andsomewhereastreamofwaterranthroughthecoolcavernsandtreeshadingsofaravine.Somewhereahorseandwagontrottedandrolledby,bumping.

           "Sir,"saidSamuelHinkston,"itmustbe,ithastobe,thatrockettraveltoMarsbeganintheyearsbeforethefirstWorldWar!"

           "No."