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

"You got it because you were greedy," Red said coldly. "I had nothing
to do with it. You'd better be quiet. "
For a while, Burbridge moaned. He had his fingers in his collar again
and his head was thrown back.
"You can have all the swag," he gasped. "just don't leave me.
Redrick looked at his watch. There wasn't much time until dawn, and the
patrol car was still there. Its spotlights were still searching the bushes,
and their camouflaged jeep was quite close to the police car. They could
find it any minute.
"The Golden Ball," said Burbridge. "I found it. There were so many
tales about it. I spun a few myself. That it would grant your every wish.
Any wish, hah! If that were true, I sure wouldn't be here. I'd be living
high on the hog in Europe. Swimming in dough."
Redrick looked down at him. In the flickering blue light Bur- bridge's
upturned face looked dead. But his glassy eyes were fixed on Redrick.
"Eternal youth--like hell I got it. Money--the hell with that, too. But
I got health. And good children. And I'm alive. You can only dream about the
places I've been. And I'm still alive." He licked his lips. "I only ask for
one thing. Let me live. And give me health. And the children.
"Will you shut up?" Red finally said. "You sound like a dame. If I can,
I'll get you out. I'm sorry for your Dina. She'll have to hit the streets.
"Dina," the old man whispered hoarsely. "My little girl. My beauty.
They're spoiled, Red. I've never refused them anything. They'll be lost.
Arthur. My Artie. You know him, Red. Have you ever seen anything like him?"
"I told you: if I can I'll save you."
"No," Burbridge said stubbornly. "You'll get me out no matter what. The
Golden Ball. Do you want me to tell you where it is?"
"Go ahead." Burbridge moaned and stirred.
"My legs.... Feel how they are."
Redrick reached out and moved his hand down his leg below the knee.
"The bones...." He moaned. "Are the bones still there?"
"They're there. Stop fussing."
"You're lying. Why lie? You think I don't know, I've never seen it
happen?"
Actually all he could feel was the kneecap. Below, all the way to the
ankle, the leg was like a rubber stick. You could tie knots in it.
"The knees are whole," Red said.
"You're probably lying," Burbridge said sadly. "Well, all right. just
get me out. I'll give you everything. The Golden Ball. I'll draw you a map.
Show you all the traps. I'll tell you everything."
He promised other things, too, but Redrick wasn't listening. He was
looking at the highway. The spotlights weren't racing across the shrubbery
any more. They were frozen. They converged on that obelisk. In the bright
blue fog Redrick could see the bent black figure wandering among the
crosses. The figure seemed to be moving blindly, straight into the lights.
Redrick saw it bump into a huge cross, stumble, bump into the cross again,
walk around it, and continue on, its arms outstretched before it, fingers
spread wide. Then it suddenly disappeared, as though it fell underground; it
surfaced a few seconds later, to the right and farther away, stepping with a
bizarre, inhuman stubbornness, like a wind-up toy.