"Bradbury, Ray - The Martian Chronicles" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bradbury Ray) "You just better go see Mr. Iii right away." She dropped her toy to the ground. "Mr. Iii will like talking to you." She ran off, with the toy spider scuttling obediently after her.
The captain squatted there looking after her with his hand out. His eyes were watery in his head. He looked at his empty hands. His mouth hung open: The other three men stood with their shadows under them. They spat on the stone street. . . . Mr. Iii answered his door. He was on his way to a lecture, but he had a minute, if they would hurry inside and tell him what they desired. . . . "A little attention," said the captain, red-eyed and tired. "We're from Earth, we have a rocket, there are four of us, crew and captain, we're exhausted, we're hungry, we'd like a place to sleep. We'd like someone to give us the key to the city or something like that, and we'd like somebody to shake our hands and say 'Hooray' and say 'Congratulations, old man!' That about sums it up." Mr. Iii was a tall, vaporous, thin man with thick blind blue crystals over his yellowish eyes. He bent over his desk and brooded upon some papers, glancing now and again with extreme penetration at his guests. "Well, I haven't the forms with me here, I don't _think_." He rummaged through the desk drawers. "Now, where _did_ I put the forms?" He mused. "Somewhere. Somewhere. Oh, _here_ we are! Now!" He handed the papers over crisply. "You'll have to sign these papers, of course." "Do we have to go through all this rigmarole?" Mr. Iii gave him a thick glassy look. "You say you're from Earth, don't you? Well, then there's nothing for it but you sign." The captain wrote his name. "Do you want my crew to sign also?" Mr. Iii looked at the captain, looked at the three others, and burst into a shout of derision. "_Them_ sign! Ho! How marvelous! Them, oh, _them_ sign!" Tears sprang from his eyes. He slapped his knee and bent to let his laughter jerk out of his gaping mouth. He held himself up with the desk. "_Them_ sign!" The four men scowled. "What's funny?" "Them sign!" sighed Mr. Iii, weak with hilarity. "So very funny. I'll have to tell Mr. Xxx about this!" He examined the filled-out form, still laughing. "Everything seems to be in order." He nodded. "Even the agreement for euthanasia if final decision on such a step is necessary." He chuckled. "Agreement for _what?_" "Don't talk. I have something for you. Here. Take this key." The captain flushed. "It's a great honor." "Not the key to the city, you fool!" snapped Mr. Iii. "Just a key to the House. Go down that corridor, unlock the big door, and go inside and shut the door tight. You can spend the night there. In the morning I'll send Mr. Xxx to see you." Dubiously the captain took the key in hand. He stood looking at the floor. His men did not move. They seemed to be emptied of all their blood and their rocket fever. They were drained dry. "What is it? What's wrong?" inquired Mr. Iii. "What are you waiting for? What do you want?" He came and peered up into the captain's face, stooping. "Out with it, you!" "I don't suppose you could even--" suggested the captain. "I mean, that is, try to, or think about . . ." He hesitated. "We've worked hard, we've come a long way, and maybe you could just shake our hands and say 'Well done!' do you--think?" His voice faded. Mr. Iii stuck out his hand stiffly. "Congratulations!" He smiled a cold smile. "Congratulations." He turned away. "I must go now. Use that key." Without noticing them again, as if they had melted down through the floor, Mr. Iii moved about the room packing a little manuscript case with papers. He was in the room another five minutes but never again addressed the solemn quartet that stood with heads down, their heavy legs sagging, the light dwindling from their eyes. When Mr. Iii went out the door he was busy looking at his fingernails. . . . They straggled along the corridor in the dull, silent afternoon light. They came to a large burnished silver door, and the silver key opened it. They entered, shut the door, and turned. They were in a vast sunlit hall. Men and woman sat at tables and stood in conversing groups. At the sound of the door they regarded the four uniformed men. "And I am Captain Jonathan Williams, of New York City, on Earth," said the captain without emphasis. Immediately the hall exploded! The rafters trembled with shouts and cries. The people, rushing forward, waved and shrieked happily, knocking down tables, swarming, rollicking, seizing the four Earth Men, lifting them swiftly to their shoulders. They charged about the hall six times, six times making a full and wonderful circuit of the room, jumping, bounding, singing. The Earth Men were so stunned that they rode the toppling shoulders for a full minute before they began to laugh and shout at each other: "Hey! This is more _like_ it!" "This is the life! Boy! Yay! Yow! Whoopee!" They winked tremendously at each other. They flung up their hands to clap the air. "Hey!" "Hooray!" said the crowd. They set the Earth Men on a table. The shouting died. The captain almost broke into tears. "Thank you. It's good, it's good." "Tell us about yourselves," suggested Mr. Uuu. The captain cleared his throat. The audience ohed and ahed as the captain talked. He introduced his crew; each made a small speech and was embarrassed by the thunderous applause. Mr. Uuu dapped the captain's shoulder, "It's good to see another man from Earth. I am from Earth also." "How was that again?" "There are many of us here from Earth." "You? From Earth?" The captain stared. "But is that possible? Did you come by rocket? Has space travel been going on for centuries?" His voice was disappointed. "What--what country are you from?" "Tuiereol. I came by the spirit of my body, years ago." "Tuiereol." The captain mouthed the word. "I don't know that country. What's this about spirit of body?" "And Miss Rrr over here, she's from Earth, too, _aren't_ you, Miss Rrr?" Miss Rrr nodded and laughed strangely. "And so is Mr. Www and Mr. Qqq and Mr. Vvv!" "I'm from Jupiter," declared one man, preening himself. "I'm from Saturn," said another, eyes glinting slyly. |
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