"Arkady & Boris Strugatsky - Roadside Picnic" - читать интересную книгу автора (Strugatski Arkady)

around. That brick house, by the way, was the home of our math teacher. We used to call him The
Comma. He was a bore and a failure. His second wife had left him just before the Visitation, and his
daughter had a cataract on one eye, and we used to tease her to tears, I remember. When the panic
began he and all his neighbors ran to the bridge in their underwear, three miles nonstop. Then he was sick
with the plague for a long time. He lost all his skin and his nails. Almost everyone who had lived in the
neighborhood was hit, that's why we call it the Plague Quarter. Some died, mostly the old people, and
not too many of them. I, for one, think that they died from fright and not from the plague. It was terrifying.
Everyone who lived here got sick. And people in three neighborhoods went blind. Now we call those
areas: First Blind Quarter, Second Blind, and so on. They didn't go completely blind, but got sort of night
blindness. By the way, they said that it wasn't any explosion that caused it, even though there were plenty
of explosions; they said they were blinded from a loud noise. They said it got so loud that they
immediately lost their vision. The doctors told them that that was impossible and they should try to
remember. But they insisted that it was a powerful thunderbolt that blinded them. By the way, no one else
heard the thunder at all.
Yes, it was as though nothing had happened here. There was a glass kiosk, unharmed. A baby
carriage in a drivewayтАФeven the blankets in it looked clean. The antennas screwed up the effect
thoughтАФthey were overgrown with some hairy stuff that looked like cotton. The eggheads had been
cutting their teeth on this cotton problem for some time. You see, they were interested in looking it over.
There wasn't any other like it anywhere. Only in the Plague Quarter and only on the antennas. And most
important, it was right there, under their very windows. Finally they had a bright idea: they lowered an
anchor on a steel cable from a helicopter and hooked a piece of cotton. As soon as the helicopter pulled
at it, there was a pssst! We looked and saw smoke coming from the antenna, from the anchor, and from
the cable. The cable wasn't just smokingтАФit was hissing poisonously, like a rattler. Well, the pilot was no
foolтАФthere was a reason why he was a lieutenantтАФhe quickly figured what was what and dropped the
cable and made a quick getaway. There it was, the cable, hanging down almost to the ground and
overgrown with cotton.
So we made it to the end of the street and the turn nice and easy. Kirill looked at me: should he turn?
I signaled: as slow as possible! Our boot turned and inched over the last feet of human earth. The
sidewalk was coming closer and the boot's shadow was falling on the bramble. That's it. We were in the
Zone! I felt a chill. Each time I feel that chill. And I never know if that's the Zone greeting me or my
stalker's nerves acting up. Each time I think that when I get back I'll ask if others have the same feeling or
not, and each time I forget.
All right, so there we were crawling quietly over what used to be gardens. The engine was humming
evenly under our feet, calmlyтАФit didn't care, nothing was going to hurt it here. Then old Tender broke.
We hadn't even gotten to the first pylon when he started gabbing. All the greenhorns usually run off at the
mouth in the Zone: his teeth were chattering, his heart thumping, his memory fading, and he was
embarrassed and yet he couldn't control himself. I think it's like a runny nose with them. It doesn't depend
on the person at allтАФit just flows and flows. And what nonsense they babble! They flip out over the
landscape or they express their views on the Visitors, or they talk about things having no relation to the
ZoneтАФlike Tender, who got all wound up over his new suit and couldn't stop. How much he had paid
for it, how fine the wool was, how the tailor changed the buttons for him тАж
"Shut up."
He looked at me pitifully, flopped his lips, and went on: how much silk it took for the lining. The
gardens had ended by now, the clayey lot that used to be the town dump was under us. And I felt a light
breeze. Except there was no wind at all, and suddenly there was a gust and the tumbleweed scattered,
and I thought I heard something.
"Shut up, you bastard!" I said to Tender.
No, he couldn't shut himself up. He was on the pockets now. I had no choice.
"Stop the boot!" I said to Kirill.
He braked immediately. Good reflexes, I was proud of him. I took Tender by the shoulder, turned