"Robert A. Heinlein - Job, A Comedy of Justice" - читать интересную книгу автора (Heinlein Robert A)

The high priest spoke up; my mentor listened, then said, ‚He says not to run,
even if your feet burn. Because you might stumble and fall down. Then you
might never get up. He means you might die. I must add that you probably
would not die - unless you breathed flame. But you would certainly be terribly
burned. So don’t hurry and don’t fall down. Now see that flat rock under you?
That’s your first step. Que le bon Dieu vous garde. Good luck.’
‚Thanks.’ I glanced over at the Authority-on-Everything, who was smiling
ghoulishly, if ghouls smile. I gave him a mendaciously jaunty wave and
stepped down.
I had taken three steps before I realized that I didn’t feel anything at all. Then
I did feel something: scared. Scared silly and wishing I were in Peoria. Or
even Philadelphia. Instead of alone in this vast smoldering waste. The far
end of the pit was a city block away. Maybe farther. But I kept plodding
toward it while hoping that this numb paralysis would not cause me to
collapse before reaching it.
I felt smothered and discovered that I had been holding my breath. So I
gasped - and regretted it. Over a fire pit that vast there is blistering gas and
smoke and carbon dioxide and carbon monoxide and something that may be
Satan’s halitosis, but not enough oxygen to matter.’ I chopped off that gasp
with my eyes watering and my throat raw and tried to estimate whether or not
I could reach the end without breathing.
Heaven help me, I could not see the far end! The smoke had billowed up and
my eyes would barely open and would not focus. So I pushed on, while trying
to remember the formula by which one made a deathbed confession and
then slid into Heaven on a technicality.
Maybe there wasn’t any such formula. My feet felt odd and my knees were
becoming unglued...

‚Feeling better, Mr Graham?’
I was lying on grass and looking up into a friendly, brown face. ‚I guess so,’ I
answered. ‚What happened? Did I walk it?’
‚Certainly you walked it. Beautifully. But you fainted right at the end. We were
standing by and grabbed you, hauled you out. But you tell me what
happened. Did you get your lungs full of smoke?’

‚Maybe. Am I burned?’
‚No. Oh, you may form one blister on your right foot. But you held the thought
perfectly. All but that faint, which must have been caused by smoke.’

‚I guess so.’ I sat up with his help. ‚Can you hand me my shoes
and socks? Where is everybody?’
‚The bus left. The high priest took your pulse and checked your breathing but
he wouldn’t let anyone disturb you. If you force a man to wake up when his
spirit is still walking about, the spirit may not come back in. So he believes
and no one dares argue with him.’
‚I won’t argue with him; I feel fine. Rested. But how do I get back to the ship?’
Five miles of tropical paradise would get tedious after the first mile. On foot.
Especially as my feet seemed to have swelled a bit. For which they, had
ample excuse.
‚The bus will come back to take the villagers to the boat that takes them back