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- Исаак Азимов
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"
Are
we
leaving
now
?
"
asked
Noys
of
Harlan
when
they
were
alone
.
"
In
a
few
minutes
,
"
said
Harlan
.
He
glanced
sideways
at
Noys
.
She
was
looking
up
at
him
,
smiling
,
unfrightened
.
Momentarily
his
own
spirits
responded
to
that
.
But
that
was
emotion
,
not
reason
,
he
counciled
himself
;
instinct
,
not
thought
.
He
looked
away
.
The
trip
was
nothing
,
or
almost
nothing
;
no
different
from
an
ordinary
kettle
ride
.
Midway
there
was
a
kind
of
internal
jar
that
might
have
been
the
downwhen
terminus
and
might
have
been
purely
psychosomatic
.
It
was
barely
noticeable
.
And
then
they
were
in
the
Primitive
and
they
stepped
into
a
craggy
,
lonely
world
brightened
by
the
splendor
of
an
afternoon
sun
.
There
was
a
soft
wind
with
a
chilly
edge
to
it
and
,
most
of
all
,
silence
.
The
bare
rocks
were
tumbled
and
mighty
,
colored
into
dull
rainbows
by
compounds
of
iron
,
copper
,
and
chromium
.
The
grandeur
of
the
manless
and
all
but
lifeless
surroundings
dwarfed
and
shriveled
Harlan
.
Eternity
,
which
did
not
belong
to
the
world
of
matter
,
had
no
sun
and
none
but
imported
air
.
His
memories
of
his
own
homewhen
were
dim
.
His
Observations
in
the
various
Centuries
had
dealt
with
men
and
their
cities
.
He
had
never
experienced
this
.
Noys
touched
his
elbow
.
"
Andrew
!
I
’
m
cold
.
"
He
turned
to
her
with
a
start
.
