Марсианские хроники
June 2001: — and the Moon Be Still as Bright
Theyblendedreligionandartandsciencebecause,atbase,scienceisnomorethananinvestigationofamiraclewecanneverexplain,andartisaninterpretationofthatmirade.Theyneverletsciencecrushtheaestheticandthebeautiful.It’sallsimplyamatterofdegree.AnEarthManthinks:«Inthatpicture,colordoesnotexist,really.Ascientistcanprovethatcolorisonlythewaythecellsareplacedinacertainmaterialtoreflectlight.Therefore,colorisnotreallyanactualpartofthingsIhappentosee.»AMartian,farcleverer,wouldsay:«Thisisafinepicture.Itcamefromthehandandthemindofamaninspired.Itsideaanditscolorarefromlife.Thisthingisgood.»"
Therewasapause.Sittingintheafternoonsun,thecaptainlookedcuriouslyaroundatthelittlesilentcooltown.
"I’dliketolivehere,"hesaid.
"Youmayifyouwant."
"Youaskmethat?"
"Willanyofthosemenunderyoueverreallyunderstandallthis?They’reprofessionalcynics,andit’stoolateforthem.Whydoyouwanttogobackwiththem?SoyoucankeepupwiththeJoneses?TobuyagyrojustlikeSmithhas?Tolistentomusicwithyourpocketbookinsteadofyourglands?There’salittlepatiodownherewithareelofMartianmusicinitatleastfiftythousandyearsold.Itstillplays.Musicyou’llneverhearinyourlife.Youcouldhearit.Therearebooks.I’vegottenonwellinreadingthemalready.Youcouldsitandread."
"Itallsoundsquitewonderful,Spender."
"Butyouwon’tstay?"
"No.Thanks,anyway."
