"Arcady And Boris Strugatsky. Prisoners of Power" - читать интересную книгу автораfeel like I haven't eaten a tiling but just woke up my appetite."
Maxim tried to draw them into a conversation about hunting in this area, but no one picked it up. Vepr now lay there with his eyes closed, apparently asleep. After Zef had finished listening to Maxim's views, he growled: "Hunting? Here? Everything's filthy, radioactive." He, too, stretched out. Maxim sighed, took the pot, and walked to a nearby stream. The water was clear and appeared to be clean and tasty. Tempted to drink, he scooped some up in his hand. But he could neither drink nor wash the pot here: the stream was noticeably radioactive. Maxim squatted, set down the pot, and became lost in thought. His thoughts, for some reason, turned first to Rada. She always washed the dishes after meals and would not let him help her, giving the absurd excuse that it was woman's work. Remembering that she loved him, he felt proud: she was the first woman to love him. As much as he longed to see her, he realized that this was no place for his Rada. Nor for the most evil of men. Thousands upon thousands of robots, not men, should be sent here to clear the region. Either that, or the entire forest and everything in it should be razed. Let a new one arise, any kind, bright or gloomy, but a pure one. And if it must be gloomy, let it be a natural gloom, not one imposed by man. When he reminded himself that he had been exiled here for life, he was struck by the naivet( of his judges. Without exacting an oath from him, they fully expected him to remain here, voluntarily, forever, and on top of everything else, to help them build a network of radiation towers through extended hundreds of miles to the south and that military equipment littered the desert, too. "Massaraksh, one day I knock out a tower, the next I'm expected to clear a path for them. Oh, no. I'm not staying here. I've had enough of this." He settled down and forced himself to clarify his plans. "Vepr doesn't trust me. He trusts Zef, but not me. And I don't trust Zef, though I guess I'm being unfair. I probably seem as troublesome and suspicious to Vepr as Zef seems to me. Well, all right, Vepr doesn't trust me. So that means I'm alone again. Of course it's possible I might run into the General or Memo, but that's highly unlikely. I suppose I could try and put together a group of strangers, but massaraksh, I had better be honest with myself: I'm no good at that sort of thing. I'm too damn trusting. Hold on, now. Think! What do I want?" He considered the problem for several minutes. "If only Guy were here. But Guy was sent to a special unit with a strange name - something like Blitztr(ger, 'Lightning Bearers.' Most likely I'll have to operate alone. "In any case I must get out of here. Of course I'll try to form some sort of group, but if I can't, I'll leave alone. A tank is a must. There are enough guns here to equip a hundred armies. After twenty years they're in pretty bad shape, but I'll do what I can with them. So, Vepr really won't trust me?" he thought, almost in despair. He grabbed the pot and ran back to the fire. Zef and Vepr were awake now; they lay head to head and were arguing |
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