Марсианские хроники
June 2001: — and the Moon Be Still as Bright
Hishandswenttohismouth;hechoked,shuthiseyes,bent,andathickrushoffluidfilledhismouth,spilledout,felltosplashonthetiles,coveringthedesigns.Biggsdidthistwice,Asharpwinystenchfilledthecoolair.
NoonemovedtohelpBiggs.Hewentonbeingsick.
Spenderstaredforamoment,thenturnedandwalkedoffintotheavenuesofthecity,aloneinthemoonlight.Neveroncedidhepausetolookbackatthegatheredmenthere.
Theyturnedinatfourinthemorning.Theylayuponblanketsandshuttheireyesandbreathedthequietair.CaptainWildersatfeedinglittlesticksintothefire.
McClureopenedhiseyestwohourslater."Aren’tyousleeping,sir?"
"I’mwaitingforSpender."Thecaptainsmiledfaintly.
McClurethoughtitover."Youknow,sir,Idon’tthinkhe’llevercomeback.Idon’tknowhowIknow,butthat’sthewayIfeelabouthim,sir;he’llnevercomeback."
McClurerolledoverintosleep.Thefirecraddedanddied.
Spenderdidnotreturninthefollowingweek.Thecaptainsentsearchingparties,buttheycamebacksayingtheydidn’tknowwhereSpendercouldhavegone.Hewouldbebackwhenhegotgoodandready.Hewasasorehead,theysaid.Tothedevilwithhim!
Thecaptainsaidnothingbutwroteitdowninhislog…
ItwasamorningthatmighthavebeenaMondayoraTuesdayoranydayonMars.Biggswasonthecanalrim;hisfeethungdownintothecoolwater,soaking,whilehetookthesunonhisface.
Amanwalkedalongthebankofthecanal.ThemanthrewashadowdownuponBiggs.
