"Arkady and Boris Strugatsky. Roadside Picnic (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

wriggling under our feet. Tender stuck his head over the rail and looked at
us. His eyes were full of despair. It was time to go.
"Follow me step for step, two steps behind me, keep your eyes on my
back, and stay alert."
I went on. I stopped in the doorway to look around. It's a hell of a
lot easier working in the daylight than at night! I remember lying in that
same doorway. It was pitch black and the witches' jelly was shooting tongues
of flame up from the pit, pale blue, like burning alcohol. It didn't make
things any lighter. In fact, the bastards made it seem even darker. And now,
it was a snap! My eyes had gotten used to the murky light, and I could even
see the dust in the darkest corners. And there really was something silvery
over there--there were silvery threads stretching to the ceiling from the
canisters. They sure looked like a spider's web. Maybe that's all it was,
too, but I was going to keep away from it. That's where I made my mistake. I
should have stood Kirill right next to me, waited for his eyes to grow
accustomed to the light, too, and then pointed out the web to him. Point it
out to him. But I was used to working alone. I saw what I had to see, and I
forgot all about Kirill.
I stepped inside and went straight for the canisters. I crouched over
the empty. There didn't seem to be any web on the empty. I picked up one end
and said to Kirill:
"Here, grab one, and don't drop it--it's heavy."
I looked up and felt a catch in my throat. I couldn't utter a sound. I
wanted to shout "Stop! Freeze!" but I couldn't. And I probably wouldn't have
had time, anyway, it all happened so fast. Kirill stepped over the empty,
turned his back to the canisters, and got his whole back into the silver
web. I shut my eyes. I went numb and the only thing I heard was the web
tearing. It was a weak crackly noise. I was crouched there with my eyes
shut, unable to feel my arms or my legs, when Kirill spoke.
"Well, shall we get on with it?"
"Let's go."
We picked up the empty and headed for the door, walking side- ways. It
was terrifically heavy, the bitch, it was hard for the two of us to drag it.
We came out into the sun and stopped by the boot. Tender reached out for it.
"OK," said Kirill. "One, two...."
"No," I said. "Let's wait a sec. Put it down first."
We set it down.
"Turn around. Let's see your back."
He turned without a single word. I looked--there was nothing on his
back. I turned him this way and that, but there was nothing. I looked back
at the canisters, and there was nothing there either.
"Listen," I said to Kirill, still looking at the canisters. "Did you
see the spider web?"
"What web? Where?"
"All right. We were lucky."
But to myself I thought: actually, there's no way of knowing that yet.
"All right, let's heave-ho."
We stuffed the empty into the boot and fixed it so that it wouldn't
move around. There it was, the pussycat, shiny new and clean, the copper
gleaming in the sun. Its blue filling sifted cloudily in slow streams