Перші люди на Місяці
Chapter 18 — In the Sunlight
Thecrestonwhichwesatwashigh,andcommandedawideprospectofthecraterlandscape,andwesawitnowallsereanddryinthelateautumnofthelunarafternoon.Risingonebehindtheotherwerelongslopesandfieldsoftrampledbrownwherethemooncalveshadpastured,andfarawayinthefullblazeofthesunadroveofthembaskedslumberously,scatteredshapes,eachwithablotofshadowagainstitlikesheeponthesideofadown.ButneverasignofaSelenitewastobeseen.Whethertheyhadfledonouremergencefromtheinteriorpassages,orwhethertheywereaccustomedtoretireafterdrivingoutthemooncalves,Icannotguess.AtthetimeIbelievedtheformerwasthecase.
“Ifweweretosetfiretoallthisstuff,”Isaid,“wemightfindthesphereamongtheashes.”
Cavordidnotseemtohearme.Hewaspeeringunderhishandatthestars,thatstill,inspiteoftheintensesunlight,wereabundantlyvisibleinthesky.“Howlongdoyouthinkwe’vehavebeenhere?”heaskedatlast.
“Beenwhere?”
“Onthemoon.”
“Twoearthlydays,perhaps.”
“Morenearlyten.Doyouknow,thesunispastitszenith,andsinkinginthewest.Infourdays’timeorlessitwillbenight.”
“But—we’veonlyeatenonce!”
“Iknowthat.And—Buttherearethestars!”
“Butwhyshouldtimeseemdifferentbecauseweareonasmallerplanet?”
“Idon’tknow.Thereitis!”
“Howdoesonetelltime?”
“Hunger—fatigue—allthosethingsaredifferent.Everythingisdifferent—everything.
