Марсианские хроники
June 2001: — and the Moon Be Still as Bright
Oneofthemenranintotheshipandbroughtforthfoodtinswhichwereopenedanddishedoutwithoutmuchnoise.Themenwerebeginningtotalknow.Thecaptainsatdownandrecountedthetriptothem.Theyalreadyknewitall,butitwasgoodtohearaboutit,assomethingoveranddoneandsafelyputaway.Theywouldnottalkaboutthereturntrip.Someonebroughtthatup,buttheytoldhimtokeepquiet.Thespoonsmovedinthedoublemoonlight;thefoodtastedgoodandthewinewasevenbetter.
Therewasatouchoffireacrossthesky,andaninstantlatertheauxiliaryrocketlandedbeyondthecamp.SpenderwatchedasthesmallportopenedandHathaway,thephysician-geologist—theywereallmenoftwofoldability,toconservespaceonthetrip—steppedout.Hewalkedslowlyovertothecaptain.
"Well?"saidCaptainWilder.
Hathawaygazedoutatthedistantcitiestwinklinginthestarlight.Afterswallowingandfocusinghiseyeshesaid,"Thatcitythere,Captain,isdeadandhasbeendeadagoodmanythousandyears.Thatappliestothosethreecitiesinthehillsalso.Butthatfifthcity,twohundredmilesover,sir—"
"Whataboutit?"
"Peoplewerelivinginitlastweek,sir."
Spendergottohisfeet.
"Martians,"saidHathaway.
"Wherearetheynow?"
"Dead,"saidHathaway."Iwentintoahouseononestreet.Ithoughtthatit,liketheothertownsandhouses,hadbeendeadforcenturies.MyGod,therewerebodiesthere.Itwaslikewalkinginapileofautumnleaves.Likesticksandpiecesofburntnewspaper,that’sall.
