"Arcady And Boris Strugatsky. Prisoners of Power" - читать интересную книгу автора

Memo screamed and went limp. His head wobbled, his arms dangled, and
his feet kept jabbing Maxim in the back. Gasping loudly and holding tightly
onto Maxim's belt, the General followed close on his heels.
They ran into the woods. Wet branches lashed their faces. Dodging the
trees rushing toward him and leaping over the stumps springing up from the
ground was much tougher than Maxim had expected. He realized he was in
rotten shape. And the air here was foul. And everything seemed all wrong.
The whole mess seemed so unnecessary and senseless. In their wake lay a
bloodstained trail of broken branches. He was sure that by this time the
road had been cordoned off, that the bloodhounds were straining at their
leashes, and that Captain Chachu, pistol in hand and barking orders, was
running pigeon-toed along the road. Chachu would be the first to plunge into
the woods. Behind them lay that idiotic tower, toppled. And incinerated
legionnaires. And three dead comrades. With him now were two wounded men,
half dead, with scarcely a chance of escaping alive. All for the sake of a
tower, an idiotic, senseless, dirty, rusty tower. One of thousands like it.
"I'll never let myself get involved in anything so stupid again. I'll
tell them no. All that blood for a pile of useless rusty steel; a young,
foolish life sacrificed for rusty steel, and an old foolish life for the
hope of living like a normal human being for a few days, and a love ended by
bullets. Listen, I'll say to them, you people keep talking about wanting to
survive. If that's what you want, then why die, and die so cheaply?
Massaraksh! Well, I won't let them die. I'm going to make sure they live;
I'm going to teach them how to live! What a blockhead I am! How could I have
done such a thing? How could I have let them do it?"
Dragging the General under the arms, and with Memo on his shoulder, he
leaped onto a road and looked around. Shorty was running toward him, wet and
frightened.
"Is that all?" He was horrified, and Maxim was thankful for his
reaction.
They dragged the wounded to the motorcycle and stuffed Memo into the
sidecar. Then Maxim set the General on the rear seat and fastened him to
Shorty with a belt. It was quiet in the forest, but Maxim wasn't taken in by
the stillness.
"Get going," he said. "Don't stop. Break through."
"I know," replied Shorty. "What about you?"
"I'll try to divert them to me. Don't worry. I'll get away."
"It's hopeless," said Shorty sadly. He pushed the starter and the
motorcycle roared. "Did you blow up the tower?"
"Yes," replied Maxim. Shorty sped away.
Alone now. Maxim stood immobile for several seconds and then dashed
back into the woods.
At the first clearing he tore off his jacket and flung it into the
bushes. He returned to the road on the double, and ran as fast as he could
toward the city. Then, halting, he unhooked the grenades from his belt,
scattered them on the road, forced his way through the brush on the other
side, trying to break as many branches as possible, and threw his
handkerchief behind the bushes. Only then did he continue through the
forest, trying to maintain a steady pace for another ten or fifteen miles.
As he ran he concentrated on holding his course to the south-west and