Марсианские хроники
June 2001: — and the Moon Be Still as Bright
"Idon’tseeanyMartian,"saidCheroke.
"I’msorry."
Spendertookouthisgun.Ithummedsoftly.Thefirstbulletgotthemanontheleft;thesecondandthirdbulletstookthemenontherightandthecenterofthetable.Cookieturnedinhorrorfromthefiretoreceivethefourthbullet.Hefellbackintothefireandlaytherewhilehisclothescaughtfire.
Therocketlayinthesun.Threemensatatbreakfast,theirhandsonthetable,notmoving,theirfoodgettingcoldinfrontofthem.Cheroke,untouched,satalone,staringinnumbdisbeliefatSpender.
"Youcancomewithme,"saidSpender.
Cherokesaidnothing.
"Youcanbewithmeonthis."Spenderwaited.
FinallyCherokewasabletospeak."Youkilledthem,"hesaid,daringtolookatthemenaroundhim.
"Theydeservedit."
"You’recrazy!"
"MaybeIam.Butyoucancomewithme."
"Comewithyou,forwhat?"criedCheroke,thecolorgonefromhisface,hiseyeswatering."Goon,getout!"
Spender’sfacehardened."Ofallofthem,Ithoughtyouwouldunderstand."
"Getout!"Cherokereachedforhisgun.
Spenderfiredonelasttime.Cherokestoppedmoving.
NowSpenderswayed.Heputhishandtohissweatingface.Heglancedattherocketandsuddenlybegantoshakeallover.Healmostfell,thephysicalreactionwassooverwhelming.Hisfaceheldanexpressionofoneawakeningfromhypnosis,fromadream.Hesatdownforamomentandtoldtheshakingtogoaway.
"Stopit,stopit!"hecommandedofhisbody.Everyfiberofhimwasquiveringandshaking.
