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- Рэй Брэдбери
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- Марсианские хроники
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- Стр. 94/287
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"
What
about
you
other
men
?
"
asked
Spender
carefully
.
Nobody
answered
;
their
silence
was
talk
enough
.
Catch
as
catch
can
,
finder
’
s
keepers
,
if
the
other
fellow
turns
his
cheek
slap
it
hard
,
etc
…
"
Well
,
"
said
Spender
,
"
I
’
ve
found
a
Martian
.
"
The
men
squinted
at
him
.
"
Up
in
a
dead
town
.
I
didn
’
t
think
I
’
d
find
him
.
I
didn
’
t
intend
looking
him
up
.
I
don
’
t
know
what
he
was
doing
there
.
I
’
ve
been
living
in
a
little
valley
town
for
about
a
week
,
learning
how
to
read
the
ancient
books
and
looking
at
their
old
art
forms
.
And
one
day
I
saw
this
Martian
.
He
stood
there
for
a
moment
and
then
he
was
gone
.
He
didn
’
t
come
back
for
another
day
.
I
sat
around
,
learning
how
to
read
the
old
writing
,
and
the
Martian
came
back
,
each
time
a
little
nearer
,
until
on
the
day
I
learned
how
to
decipher
the
Martian
language
—
it
’
s
amazingly
simple
and
there
are
picturegraphs
to
help
you
—
the
Martian
appeared
before
me
and
said
,
«
Give
me
your
boots
.
»
And
I
gave
him
my
boots
and
he
said
,
«
Give
me
your
uniform
and
all
the
rest
of
your
apparel
.
»
And
I
gave
him
all
of
that
,
and
then
he
said
,
«
Give
me
your
gun
,
»
and
I
gave
him
my
gun
.
Then
he
said
,
«
Now
come
along
and
watch
what
happens
.
»
And
the
Martian
walked
down
into
camp
and
he
’
s
here
now
.
"
"
I
don
’
t
see
any
Martian
,
"
said
Cheroke
.
"
I
’
m
sorry
.
"
Spender
took
out
his
gun
.
It
hummed
softly
.
The
first
bullet
got
the
man
on
the
left
;
the
second
and
third
bullets
took
the
men
on
the
right
and
the
center
of
the
table
.
Cookie
turned
in
horror
from
the
fire
to
receive
the
fourth
bullet
.
He
fell
back
into
the
fire
and
lay
there
while
his
clothes
caught
fire
.
The
rocket
lay
in
the
sun
.
Three
men
sat
at
breakfast
,
their
hands
on
the
table
,
not
moving
,
their
food
getting
cold
in
front
of
them
.
Cheroke
,
untouched
,
sat
alone
,
staring
in
numb
disbelief
at
Spender
.
"
You
can
come
with
me
,
"
said
Spender
.
