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- Рэй Брэдбери
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- Марсианские хроники
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- Стр. 138/287
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"
Where
do
they
get
off
,
God
damn
it
,
workin
’
in
secret
,
plottin
’
?
"
shouted
Teece
.
"
Schedule
is
for
all
this
town
’
s
niggers
to
gather
out
by
Loon
Lake
.
Rockets
be
there
at
one
o
’
clock
,
pick
’
em
up
,
take
’
em
to
Mars
.
"
"
Telephone
the
governor
,
call
out
the
militia
,
"
cried
Teece
.
"
They
should
’
ve
given
notice
!
"
"
Here
comes
your
woman
,
Teece
.
"
The
men
turned
again
.
As
they
watched
,
down
the
hot
road
in
the
windless
light
first
one
white
woman
and
then
another
arrived
,
all
of
them
with
stunned
faces
,
all
of
them
rustling
like
ancient
papers
.
Some
of
them
were
crying
,
some
were
stern
.
All
came
to
find
their
husbands
.
They
pushed
through
barroom
swing
doors
,
vanishing
.
They
entered
cool
,
quiet
groceries
.
They
went
in
at
drug
shops
and
garages
.
And
one
of
them
,
Mrs
.
Clara
Teece
,
came
to
stand
in
the
dust
by
the
hardware
porch
,
blinking
up
at
her
stiff
and
angry
husband
as
the
black
river
flowed
full
behind
her
.
"
It
’
s
Lucinda
,
Pa
;
you
got
to
come
home
!
"
"
I
’
m
not
comin
’
home
for
no
damn
darkie
!
"
"
She
’
s
leaving
.
What
’
ll
I
do
without
her
?
"
"
Fetch
for
yourself
,
maybe
.
I
won
’
t
get
down
on
my
knees
to
stop
her
.
"
