"Connie Willis - Fire Watch" - читать интересную книгу автора (Willis Connie)

cry. It's only by luck that I haven't made some unforgivable mistake so far, and this is not beca
can't get at the long-term memory. I don't have half the information I need even stored: cats
colds and the way St. Paul's looks in full sun. It's only a matter of time before I am stopped col
something I do not know. Nevertheless, I am going to try for retrieval tonight after I come off w
At least I can find out whether and when something is going to fall on me.
I have seen the cat once or twice. He is coal-black with a white patch on his throat that looks
it were painted on for the blackout.

September 27 -I have just come down from the roofs. I am still shaking.
Early in the raid the bombing was mostly over the East End. The view was incredible. Searchl
everywhere, the sky pink from the fires and reflecting in the Thames, the exploding shells spar
like fireworks. There was a constant, deafening thunder broken by the occasional droning o
planes high overhead, then the repeating stutter of the ack-ack guns.
About midnight the bombs began falling quite near with a horrible sound like a train running
me. It took every bit of will I had to keep from flinging myself flat on the roof, but Langby
watching. I didn't want to give him the satisfac-tion of watching a repeat performance of my beh
in the dome. I kept my head up and my sandbucket firmly in hand and felt quite proud of myself
 The bombs stopped roaring past about three, and there was a lull of about half an hour, and th
clatter like hail on the roofs. Everybody except Langby dived for shovels and stirrup pumps. He
watching me. And I was watching the incen-diary.
It had fallen only a few meters from me, behind the clock tower. It was much smaller than I
imagined, only about thirty centimeters long. It was sputtering violently, throwing greenish-white
almost to where I was standing. In a min-ute it would simmer down into a molten mass and beg
burn through the roof. Flames and the frantic shouts of firemen, and then the white rubble stretc
for miles, and noth-ing, nothing left, not even the firewatch stone.
It was the Whispering Gallery all over again. I felt that I had said something, and when I look
Langby's face he was smiling crookedly.
"St. Paul's will burn down," I said. "There won't be anything left."
"Yes," Langby said. "That's the idea, isn't it? Burn St. Paul's to the ground? Isn't that the plan
"Whose plan?" I said stupidly.
"Hitler's, of course," Langby said. "Who did you think I meant?" and, almost casually, picke
his stirrup pump.
The page of the ARP manual flashed suddenly before me. I poured the bucket of sand aroun
still sputtering bomb, snatched up another bucket and dumped that on top of it. Black sm
billowed up in such a cloud that I could hardly find my shovel. I felt for the smothered bomb
the tip of it and scooped it into the empty bucket, then shovelled the sand in on top of it. Tears
streaming down my face from the acrid smoke. I turned to wipe them on my sleeve and saw Lan
He had not made a move to help me. He smiled. "It's not a bad plan, actually. But of cours
won't let it happen.
That's what the fire watch is here for. To see that it doesn't happen. Right, Bartholomew?"
I know now what the purpose of my practicum is. I must stop Langby from burning dow
Paul's.

September 28 -I must try to tell myself I was mistaken about Langby last night, th
misunderstood what he said. Why would he want to burn down St. Paul's unless he is a Nazi
How can a Nazi spy have gotten on the fire watch? I think about my faked letter of introduction
shudder.
How can I find out? If I set him some test, some fatal thing that only a loyal Englishman in
would know, I fear I am the one who would be caught out. I must get my retrieval working prope
Until then, I shall watch Langby. For the time being at least that should be easy. Langby has