-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Рэй Брэдбери
-
- Марсианские хроники
-
- Стр. 251/287
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
He
poured
five
glasses
full
.
"
It
’
s
been
a
long
time
,
"
he
said
,
gravely
looking
into
his
drink
.
"
Remember
the
day
the
war
broke
?
Twenty
years
and
seven
months
ago
.
And
all
the
rockets
were
called
home
from
Mars
.
And
you
and
I
and
the
children
were
out
in
the
mountains
,
doing
archaeological
work
,
research
on
the
ancient
surgical
methods
of
the
Martians
.
We
ran
our
horses
,
almost
killing
them
,
remember
?
But
we
got
here
to
the
city
a
week
late
.
Everyone
was
gone
.
America
had
been
destroyed
;
every
rocket
had
left
without
waiting
for
stragglers
,
remember
,
remember
?
And
it
turned
out
we
were
the
only
ones
left
?
Lord
,
Lord
,
how
the
years
pass
.
I
couldn
’
t
have
stood
it
without
you
here
,
all
of
you
.
I
’
d
have
killed
myself
without
you
.
But
with
you
,
it
was
worth
waiting
.
Here
’
s
to
us
,
then
.
"
He
lifted
his
glass
.
"
And
to
our
long
wait
together
.
"
He
drank
.
The
wife
and
the
two
daughters
and
the
son
raised
their
glasses
to
their
lips
.
The
wine
ran
down
over
the
chins
of
all
four
of
them
.
By
morning
the
city
was
blowing
in
great
black
soft
flakes
across
the
sea
bottom
.
The
fire
was
exhausted
,
but
it
had
served
its
purpose
;
the
red
spot
on
the
sky
grew
larger
.
From
the
stone
hut
came
the
rich
brown
smell
of
baked
gingerbread
.
His
wife
stood
over
the
table
,
setting
down
the
hot
pans
of
new
bread
as
Hathaway
entered
.
The
two
daughters
were
gently
sweeping
the
bare
stone
floor
with
stiff
brooms
,
and
the
son
was
polishing
the
silverware
.
"
We
’
ll
have
a
huge
breakfast
for
them
,
"
laughed
Hathaway
.
"
Put
on
your
best
clothes
!
"
He
hurried
across
his
land
to
the
vast
metal
storage
shed
.
Inside
was
the
cold
-
storage
unit
and
power
plant
he
had
repaired
and
restored
with
his
efficient
,
small
,
nervous
fingers
over
the
years
,
just
as
he
had
repaired
clocks
,
telephones
,
and
spool
recorders
in
his
spare
time
.
The
shed
was
full
of
things
he
had
built
,
some
senseless
mechanisms
the
functions
of
which
were
a
mystery
even
to
himself
now
as
he
looked
upon
them
.
From
the
deep
freeze
he
fetched
rimed
cartons
of
beans
and
strawberries
,
twenty
years
old
.
Lazarus
come
forth
,
he
thought
,
and
pulled
out
a
cool
chicken
.
The
air
was
full
of
cooking
odors
when
the
rocket
landed
.