"Aleksandr Abramov, Sergei Abramov. Horsemen from Nowhere ("ВСАДНИКИ НИОТКУДА", англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора "Let's fight, then. Perhaps one of us will kill the other."
"And suppose both are killed?" We stood opposite one another, angry, all keyed up, throwing absolutely identical shadows on the snow. Then suddenly all this struck us both as being funny. "This is a farce," I said. "We'll get back to Moscow and they'll show us around in a circus. Two-Anokhin-Two." "Why a circus? In the Academy of Sciences. A new phenomenon, something like the rose clouds." "Which don't exist." "Take a look." He pointed to the sky. In the hazy blue in the distance billowed a rose-coloured cloud. All alone, no companions, no satellites, just like a spot of wine on a white tablecloth. It floated very slowly and low, much below storm clouds, and did not at all look like a cloud. I would sooner have compared it to a dirigible. It even resembled more a piece of dark rose-coloured dough rolled out on the table or a large kite floating lazily in the sky. Jerking along, pulsating, it moved sideways to the earth as if alive. "A jellyfish," my counterpart said, repeating my own thoughts on the subject, "a live rose jellyfish. Without tentacles." "Quit repeating my nonsense. That's a substance and not a creature." "You think so?" "Just the way you do. Take a better look." "But why does it jerk so?" "It's billowing because it's a gas or water vapour. Perhaps dust, on the other hand," I added not very sure of myself. The crimson kite came to halt right overhead and began to descend. It edges of it turned downwards and grew dark. The kite was turning into a bell. "Oh, what a nut!" I exclaimed remembering my camera. "This is just what ought to be photographed!" I rushed to my "Kharkovchanka" vehicle, checked to see that the camera was in working order and the colour-film spool in place. All that took but a minute. I began to shoot right through the open door, and jumping down onto the ice I ran around the two machines and found another angle for some more shots. Only then did I notice that my alter ego stood without camera and was watching my movements in a detached, lost sort of fashion. "Why aren't you taking pictures?" I yelled without taking my eye off the viewfinder. He did not answer at once and when he did it was strangely slow. "I dooon't know. Something is-is-is bothering me." "What's all this about?" ".. .don't know." I looked intently at him and even forgot about the threat from the sky. This finally was a real difference! We weren't, after all, so completely the same. He was experiencing something I did not feel. Something was hampering his movements, yet I was free. Without thinking twice I snapped him and the duplicate tractor as well. For an instant I even forgot about the rose cloud but he reminded me. "It's diving." The crimson bell was no longer slowly descending, it was falling, |
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