Первые люди на Луне/First people on the moon (Герберт Уеллс). Страница 125 из 157

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I

fought

stiffly

with

it

I

was

on

the

manhole

lip

,

a

stupefied

,

half-dead

being

.

The

snow

was

all

about

me

.

I

pulled

myself

in

.

There

lurked

within

a

little

warmer

air

.

The

snowflakes

--

the

airflakes

--

danced

in

about

me

,

as

I

tried

with

chilling

hands

to

thrust

the

valve

in

and

spun

it

tight

and

hard

.

I

sobbed

.

"

I

will

,

"

I

chattered

in

my

teeth

.

And

then

,

with

fingers

that

quivered

and

felt

brittle

,

I

turned

to

the

shutter

studs

.

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As

I

fumbled

with

the

switches

--

for

I

had

never

controlled

them

before

--

I

could

see

dimly

through

the

steaming

glass

the

blazing

red

streamers

of

the

sinking

sun

,

dancing

and

flickering

through

the

snowstorm

,

and

the

black

forms

of

the

scrub

thickening

and

bending

and

breaking

beneath

the

accumulating

snow

.

Thicker

whirled

the

snow

and

thicker

,

black

against

the

light

.

What

if

even

now

the

switches

overcame

me

?

Then

something

clicked

under

my

hands

,

and

in

an

instant

that

last

vision

of

the

moon

world

was

hidden

from

my

eyes

.

I

was

in

the

silence

and

darkness

of

the

inter-planetary

sphere

.

It

was

almost

as

though

I

had

been

killed

.

Indeed

,

I

could

imagine

a

man

suddenly

and

violently

killed

would

feel

very

much

as

I

did

.

One

moment

,

a

passion

of

agonising

existence

and

fear

;

the

next

,

darkness

and

stillness

,

neither

light

nor

life

nor

sun

,

moon

nor

stars

,

the

blank

infinite

.

Although

the

thing

was

done

by

my

own

act

,

although

I

had

already

tasted

this

very

of

effect

in

Cavor

's

company

,

I

felt

astonished

,

dumbfounded

,

and

overwhelmed

.

I

seemed

to

be

borne

upward

into

an

enormous

darkness

.

My

fingers

floated

off

the

studs

,

I

hung

as

if

I

were

annihilated

,

and

at

last

very

softly

and

gently

I

came

against

the

bale

and

the

golden

chain

,

and

the

crowbars

that

had

drifted

to

the

middle

of

the

sphere

.

I

do

not

know

how

long

that

drifting

took

.

In

the

sphere

of

course

,

even

more

than

on

the

moon

,

one

's

earthly

time

sense

was

ineffectual

.

At

the

touch

of

the

bale

it

was

as

if

I

had

awakened

from

a

dreamless

sleep

.

I

immediately

perceived

that

if

I

wanted

to

keep

awake

and

alive

I

must

get

a

light

or

open

a

window

,

so

as

to

get

a

grip

of

something

with

my

eyes

.

And

besides

,

I

was

cold

.

I

kicked

off

from

the

bale

,

therefore

,

clawed

on

to

the

thin

cords

within

the

glass

,

crawled

along

until

I

got

to

the

manhole

rim

,

and

so

got

my

bearings

for

the

light

and

blind

studs

,

took

a

shove

off

,

and

flying

once

round

the

bale

,

and

getting

a

scare

from

something

big

and

flimsy

that

was

drifting

loose

,

I

got

my

hand

on

the

cord

quite

close

to

the

studs

,

and

reached

them

.

I

lit

the

little

lamp

first

of

all

to

see

what

it

was

I

had

collided

with

,

and

discovered

that

old

copy

of

Lloyd

's

News

had

slipped

its

moorings

,

and

was

adrift

in

the

void

.

That

brought

me

out

of

the

infinite

to

my

own

proper

dimensions

again

.

It

made

me

laugh

and

pant

for

a

time

,

and

suggested

the

idea

of

a

little

oxygen

from

one

of

the

cylinders

.

After

that

I

lit

the

heater

until

I

felt

warm

,

and

then

I

took

food

.

Then

I

set

to

work

in

a

very

gingerly

fashion

on

the

Cavorite

blinds

,

to

see

if

I

could

guess

by

any

means

how

the

sphere

was

travelling

.

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The

first

blind

I

opened

I

shut

at

once

,

and

hung

for

a

time

flattened

and

blinded

by

the

sunlight

that

had

hit

me

.

After

thinking

a

little

I

started

upon

the

windows

at

right

angles

to

this

one

,

and

got

the

huge

crescent

moon

and

the

little

crescent

earth

behind

it

,

the

second

time

.

I

was

amazed

to

find

how

far

I

was

from

the

moon

.

I

had

reckoned

that

not

only

should

I

have

little

or

none

of

the

"

kick-off

"

that

the

earth

's

atmosphere

had

given

us

at

our

start

,

but

that

the

tangential

"

fly

off

"

of

the

moon

's

spin

would

be

at

least

twenty-eight

times

less

than

the

earth

's

.

I

had

expected

to

discover

myself

hanging

over

our

crater

,

and

on

the

edge

of

the

night

,

but

all

that

was

now

only

a

part

of

the

outline

of

the

white

crescent

that

filled

the

sky

.

And

Cavor

--

?

He

was

already

infinitesimal

.

I

tried

to

imagine

what

could

have

happened

to

him

.

But

at

that

time

I

could

think

of

nothing

but

death

.

I

seemed

to

see

him

,

bent

and

smashed

at

the

foot

of

some

interminably

high

cascade

of

blue

.

And

all

about

him

the

stupid

insects

stared

...

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