Марсианские хроники
June 2001: — and the Moon Be Still as Bright
There’dbetimeforthatlater;timetothrowcondensed-milkcansintheproudMartiancanals;timeforcopiesoftheNewYorkTimestoblowandcaperandrustleacrossthelonegrayMartianseabottoms;timeforbananapeelsandpicnicpapersinthefluted,delicateruinsoftheoldMartianvalleytowns.Plentyoftimeforthat.Andhegaveasmallinwardshiveratthethought.
Hefedthefirebyhand,anditwaslikeanofferingtoadeadgiant,Theyhadlandedonanimmensetomb.Hereacivilizationhaddied.Itwasonlysimplecourtesythatthefirstnightbespentquietly.
"Thisisn’tmyideaofacelebration."GibbsturnedtoCaptainWilder."Sir,Ithoughtwemightbreakoutrationsofginandmeatandwhoopitupabit."
CaptainWilderlookedofftowardadeadcityamileaway."We’realltired,"hesaidremotely,asifhiswholeattentionwasonthecityandhismenforgotten."Tomorrownight,perhaps.Tonightweshouldbegladwegotacrossallthatspacewithoutgettingameteorinourbulkheadorhavingonemanofusdie."
Themenshiftedaround.Thereweretwentyofthem,holdingtoeachother’sshouldersoradjustingtheirbelts.Spenderwatchedthem.Theywerenotsatisfied.Theyhadriskedtheirlivestodoabigthing.Nowtheywantedtobeshoutingdrunk,firingoffgunstoshowhowwonderfultheyweretohavekickedaholeinspaceandriddenarocketallthewaytoMars.
Butnobodywasyelling.
Thecaptaingaveaquietorder.
