Марсианские хроники
June 2001: — and the Moon Be Still as Bright
Hetookadrinkofcoolwaterfromhishipcanteen.Thenhestoodup,stretched,yawned,andlistenedtothepeacefulwonderofthevalleyaroundhim.HowveryfineifheandafewothersheknewonEarthcouldbehere,liveouttheirliveshere,withoutasoundoraworry.
Hecarriedthebookwithhiminonehand,thepistolreadyinhisother.Therewasalittleswift-runningstreamfilledwithwhitepebblesandrockswhereheundressedandwadedinforabriefwashing.Hetookallthetimehewantedbeforedressingandpickinguphisgunagain.
Thefiringbeganaboutthreeintheafternoon.BythenSpenderwashighinthehills.TheyfollowedhimthroughthreesmallMartianhilltowns.Abovethetowns,scatteredlikepebbles,weresinglevillaswhereancientfamilieshadfoundabrook,agreenspot,andlaidoutatilepool,alibrary,andacourtwithapulsingfountain.Spendertookhalfanhour,swimminginoneofthepoolswhichwasfilledwiththeseasonalrain,waitingforthepursuerstocatchupwithhim.
Shotsrangoutashewasleavingthelittlevilla.Tilechippedupsometwentyfeetbehindhim,exploded.Hebrokeintoatrot,movedbehindaseriesofsmallbluffs,turned,andwithhisfirstshotdroppedoneofthemendeadinhistracks.
Theywouldformanet,acircle;Spenderknewthat.Theywouldgoaroundandcloseinandtheywouldgethim.Itwasastrangethingthatthegrenadeswerenotused.CaptainWildercouldeasilyorderthegrenadestossed.
ButI’mmuchtoonicetobeblowntobits,thoughtSpender.That’swhatthecaptainthinks.
