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- Джон Уиндем
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- Стр. 29/223
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With
that
,
too
,
I
agreed
.
Triffid
-
seed
time
was
quite
a
sight
.
The
dark
green
pod
just
below
the
cup
was
glistening
and
distended
,
about
half
as
big
again
as
large
apple
—
When
it
burst
,
it
did
it
with
a
pop
that
was
audible
twenty
yards
away
.
The
white
seeds
shot
into
the
air
like
steam
and
began
drifting
away
on
the
lightest
of
breezes
.
Looking
down
on
a
field
of
triffids
late
in
August
,
you
could
well
get
the
idea
that
some
kind
of
desultory
bombardment
was
going
on
.
It
was
Walter
’
s
discovery
again
that
the
quality
of
the
extracts
was
improved
if
the
plants
retained
their
stings
.
In
consequence
,
the
practice
of
docking
was
discontinued
on
farms
throughout
the
trade
,
and
we
had
to
wear
protective
devices
when
working
among
the
plants
.
At
the
time
or
the
accident
that
had
landed
me
in
hospital
I
was
actually
with
Walter
.
We
were
examining
some
specimens
which
were
showing
unusual
deviations
.
Both
of
us
were
wearing
wire
-
mesh
masks
.
I
did
not
see
exactly
what
happened
.
All
I
know
is
that
as
I
bent
forward
a
sting
slashed
viciously
at
my
face
and
smacked
against
the
wire
of
the
mask
.
Ninety
-
nine
times
in
a
hundred
it
would
not
have
mattered
;
that
was
what
the
masks
were
for
.
But
this
one
came
with
such
force
that
some
of
the
little
poison
sacs
were
burst
open
,
and
a
few
drops
from
them
went
into
my
eyes
Walter
got
me
back
into
his
lab
and
administered
the
antidote
in
a
few
seconds
.
It
was
entirely
due
to
his
quick
work
that
they
had
the
chance
of
saving
my
sight
at
all
.
But
even
so
it
had
meant
over
a
week
in
bed
,
in
the
dark
.
While
I
lay
there
I
had
quite
decided
that
when
—
and
if
—
I
had
my
sight
back
I
was
going
to
apply
for
a
transfer
to
another
side
of
the
business
.
And
if
that
did
not
go
through
,
I
’
d
quit
the
job
altogether
.
I
had
built
up
a
considerable
resistance
to
triffid
poison
since
my
first
sting
in
the
garden
.
I
could
take
,
and
had
taken
,
without
very
much
harm
,
stings
which
would
have
laid
an
inexperienced
man
out
very
cold
indeed
.
But
an
old
saying
about
a
pitcher
and
a
well
kept
on
recurring
to
me
.
I
was
taking
my
warning
.
I
spent
,
I
remember
,
a
good
many
of
my
enforcedly
dark
hours
deciding
what
kind
of
job
I
would
try
for
if
they
would
not
give
me
that
transfer
.
Considering
what
was
just
around
the
corner
for
us
all
,
I
could
scarcely
have
found
a
contemplation
more
idle
.
I
left
the
pub
door
swinging
behind
me
as
I
made
my
way
to
the
corner
of
the
main
road
.
There
I
hesitated
.
To
the
left
,
through
miles
of
suburban
streets
,
lay
the
open
county
;
to
the
right
,
the
West
End
of
London
,
with
the
City
beyond
.
I
was
feeling
somewhat
restored
,
but
curiously
detached
now
,
and
rudderless
.
I
had
no
glimmering
of
a
plan
,
and
in
the
face
of
what
I
had
at
last
begun
to
perceive
as
a
vast
and
not
merely
local
catastrophe
,
if
was
still
too
stunned
to
begin
to
reason
one
out
.
What
plan
could
there
be
to
deal
with
such
a
thing
?
I
felt
forlorn
,
cast
into
desolation
,
and
yet
not
quite
real
,
not
quite
myself
here
and
now
.
In
no
direction
was
there
any
traffic
,
nor
any
sound
of
it
.
The
only
signs
of
life
were
a
few
people
here
and
there
cautiously
groping
their
way
along
the
shop
fronts
.
