They did not speak with each other. It was heavy to breathe, because they protected szhizhennyj oxygen and breathed the
external air passed through the oxygen filter. This air was hot and poor oxygen, it smothered.
Forced to yawn convulsively, greedy to open a dry mouth... No, it was impossible to talk. Only on rare and short halts when
one rolled in a light slumber-semiunconsciousness, another, awake near to the automatic machine in a lap, had possibility
slushet the changed voice of the companion muttering nonsense. Speak they could not, but is better they could not think...
Thirst! The mouth has dried up. Lips, language have lost sensitivity, have grown dumb.
It seems, as if drink it is hammered by sand and a dust, and language - a heavy, dry turning stone... The burnt body, fire on a
skin, in a mouth, in lungs Burns with fire... Thirst! And here, at the mouth - it is necessary to stretch lips, - a cold lemon juice...
Sourish, fragrant... It is necessary only hardly to bend a head... To take in the dried up lips cool ebonitovyj a tip... To pull in
itself... Sweet, a moisture... Bulls even feels, how its teeth compresses smooth ebonit... Slightly... A Drink, only one drink... To
Humidify language...
- Jurkovsky, the swine!. Again you drink? To set aside! Jurkovsky rattles furiously. It is impossible, it is impossible, Vova...
Hundred fifty thousand steps. Remains yet less hundred thousand... And Grisha... Bulls licks lips. Or it only seems to it, what
licks? Here in five centimetres from the face a black cool tip...
Well, on the business essence, what for all it? To go, suffer... It's done.
Far behind the glow of Golconda dances reflected lights on a smooth steel of turrets of beacons. Soon - can be, it is very fast
- here will fall planetolety, and vigorous, cheerful people will begin the present storm. Strong, healthy, drinking a lot of a fresh,
cool lemon juice. And Golconda will surrender. It does not depend any more on two exhausted shades in siliketovyh suits.
What prevents to fall, get drunk it in plenty a cold moisture and to fall asleep in sand? It so... Well to lay down, extend the
grown weak feet, to get drunk and fall asleep. Let the black wind will sweep together over them a sandy hillock... Simply and
devilishly seductively. And to begin with to remove from a neck stokilogrammovyj the automatic machine. Yes well it to hell!
What for it here is necessary, in dead sand? Here for a long time already all has died out: to everyone it is clear that is better
to lay down, get drunk in this desert in plenty - is even more semilitre of juice in a thermos! - and to wait, while you will bring
sand.