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- Рэй Брэдбери
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The
answer
was
interesting
.
Telepathy
,
hypnosis
,
memory
,
and
imagination
.
Suppose
all
of
these
houses
aren
’
t
real
at
all
,
this
bed
not
real
,
but
only
figments
of
my
own
imagination
,
given
substance
by
telepathy
and
hypnosis
through
the
Martians
,
thought
Captain
John
Black
.
Suppose
these
houses
are
really
some
other
shape
,
a
Martian
shape
,
but
,
by
playing
on
my
desires
and
wants
,
these
Martians
have
made
this
seem
like
my
old
home
town
,
my
old
house
,
to
lull
me
out
of
my
suspicions
.
What
better
way
to
fool
a
man
,
using
his
own
mother
and
father
as
bait
?
And
this
town
,
so
old
,
from
the
year
1926
,
long
before
any
of
my
men
were
born
.
From
a
year
when
I
was
six
years
old
and
there
were
records
of
Harry
Lauder
,
and
Maxfield
Parrish
paintings
still
hanging
,
and
bead
curtains
,
and
"
Beautiful
Ohio
,
"
and
turn
-
of
-
the
-
century
architecture
.
What
if
the
Martians
took
the
memories
of
a
town
exclusively
from
my
mind
?
They
say
childhood
memories
are
the
clearest
.
And
after
they
built
the
town
from
my
mind
,
they
populated
it
with
the
most
-
loved
people
from
all
the
minds
of
the
people
on
the
rocket
!
And
suppose
those
two
people
in
the
next
room
,
asleep
,
are
not
my
mother
and
father
at
all
,
But
two
Martians
,
incredibly
brilliant
,
with
the
ability
to
keep
me
under
this
dreaming
hypnosis
all
of
the
time
.
And
that
brass
band
today
?
What
a
startlingly
wonderful
plan
it
would
be
.
First
,
fool
Lustig
,
then
Hinkston
,
then
gather
a
crowd
;
and
all
the
men
in
the
rocket
,
seeing
mothers
,
aunts
,
uncles
,
sweethearts
,
dead
ten
,
twenty
wears
ago
,
naturally
,
disregarding
orders
,
rush
out
and
abandon
ship
.
What
more
natural
?
What
more
unsuspecting
?
What
more
simple
?
A
man
doesn
’
t
ask
too
many
questions
when
his
mother
is
soddenly
brought
back
to
life
;
he
’
s
much
too
happy
.
And
here
we
all
are
tonight
,
in
various
houses
,
in
various
beds
,
with
no
weapons
to
protect
us
,
and
the
rocket
lies
in
the
moonlight
,
empty
.
And
wouldn
’
t
it
be
horrible
and
terrifying
to
discover
that
all
of
this
was
part
of
some
great
clever
plan
by
the
Martians
to
divide
and
conquer
us
,
and
kill
us
?
Sometime
during
the
night
,
perhaps
,
my
brother
here
on
this
bed
will
change
form
,
melt
,
shift
,
and
become
another
thing
,
a
terrible
thing
,
a
Martian
.
It
would
be
very
simple
for
him
just
to
turn
over
in
bed
and
put
a
knife
into
my
heart
.
And
in
all
those
other
houses
down
the
street
,
a
dozen
other
brothers
or
fathers
suddenly
melting
away
and
taking
knives
and
doing
things
to
the
unsuspecting
,
sleeping
men
of
Earth
…
His
hands
were
shaking
under
the
covers
.
His
body
was
cold
.
Suddenly
it
was
not
a
theory
.
Suddenly
he
was
very
afraid
.
He
lifted
himself
in
bed
and
listened
.
The
night
was
very
quiet
The
music
had
stopped
.
The
wind
had
died
.
His
brother
lay
sleeping
beside
him
.
Carefully
he
lifted
the
covers
,
rolled
them
back
.
He
slipped
from
bed
and
was
walking
softly
across
the
room
when
his
brother
’
s
voice
said
,
"
Where
are
you
going
?
"
