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."

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