Марсианские хроники
June 2001: — and the Moon Be Still as Bright
"Andlast—ifithelpsany,justthinkofmeasaverycrazyfellowwhowentberserkonesummerdayandneverwasrightagain.It’llbealittleeasieronyouthatway."
"I’llthinkitover.Solong,Spender.Goodluck."
"You’reanoddone,"saidSpenderasthecaptainwalkedbackdownthetrailinthewarm-blowingwind.
Thecaptainreturnedlikesomethinglosttohisdustymen.Hekeptsquintingatthesunandbreathingbard.
"Isthereadrink?"hesaid.Hefeltabottleputcoolintohishand."Thanks."Hedrank.Hewipedhismouth.
"Allright,"hesaid."Becareful.Wehaveallthetimewewant.Idon’twantanymorelost.You’llhavetokillhim.Hewon’tcomedown.Makeitacleanshotifyoucan.Don’tmesshim.Getitoverwith."
"I’llblowhisdamnedbrainsout,"saidSamParkhill.
"No,throughthechest,"saidthecaptain.HecouldseeSpender’sstrong,clearlydeterminedface.
"Hisbloodybrains,"saidParkhill.
Thecaptainhandedhimthebottlejerkingly."YouheardwhatIsaid.Throughthechest"
Parkhillmutteredtohimself.
"Now,"saidthecaptain.
Theyspreadagain,walkingandthenrunning,andthenwalkingonthehothillsideplaceswheretherewouldbesuddencoolgrottoesthatsmelledofmoss,andsuddenopenblastingplacesthatsmelledofsunonstone.
Ihatebeingclever,thoughtthecaptain,whenyoudon’treallyfeelcleveranddon’twanttobeclever.Tosneakaroundandmakeplansandfeelbigaboutmakingthem.
