TETOVIRANI ČOVEK

MEŠALICA ZA BETON

MEŠALICA ZA BETON	The Concrete Mixer
Slušao je kako glasovi starih veštica šušketaju poput sasušene trave ispod njegovog otvorenog prozora:	HE LISTENED to the dry-grass rustle of the old witches’ voices beneath his open window:
"Etil, kukavica! Etil, odbijač! Etil koji neće da vodi slavan rat Marsa protiv Zemlje!"	“Ettil, the coward! Ettil, the refuser! Ettil, who will not wage the glorious war of Mars against Earth!”
"Samo pričajte, veštice!" uzviknu on.	“Speak on, witches!” he cried.
Glasovi se stišaše do mrmljanja sličnog žuboru vode u dugim kanalima pod marsovskim nebom.	The voices dropped to a murmur like that of water in the long canals under the Martian sky.
"Etil, otac sina koji mora da odraste u senci tog strašnog saznanja!" govorile su naborane starice. Zbijale su svoje lukavooke glave blago udarajući jednu o drugu. "Sramota, sramota!"	“Ettil, the father of a son who must grow up in the shadow of this horrid knowledge!” said the old wrinkled women. They knocked their sly-eyed heads gently together. “Shame, shame!”
Na drugom kraju sobe plakala je njegova žena. Suze su joj lile kao kiša, obilne i hladne po keramičkim pločicama. "Oh, Etile, kako možeš tako da misliš?"	His wife was crying on the other side of the room. Her tears were as rain, numerous and cool on the tiles. “Oh, Ettil, how can you think this way?”
Etil odloži svoju metalnu knjigu koja mu je, na njegov znak celog jutra otpevavala jednu priču iz svog tankog okvira od zlatne žice.	Ettil laid aside his metal book which, at his beckoning, had been singing him a story all morning from its thin golden-wired frame.
"Pokušao sam da objasnim", reče on. "To je glupa stvar, Mars da osvaja Zemlju. Bićemo uništeni, potpuno."	“I’ve tried to explain,” he said. “This is a foolish thing, Mars invading Earth. We’ll be destroyed, utterly.”
Napolju lupa, treska, tutanj, zaglušujuća vojna muzika, doboši, vika, topot nogu u maršu, ratne zastavice i pesme. Kamenim ulicama tutnjala je vojska, sa vatrenim oružjem na ramenima. Za njom su skakutala deca. Starice mahale prljavim zastavama.	Outside, a banging, crashing boom, a surge of brass, a drum, a cry, marching feet, pennants and songs. Through the stone sheets the army, fire weapons to shoulder, stamped. Children skipped after. Old women waved dirty flags.
"Ja ću ostati na Marsu da čitam neku knjigu", reče Etil. Začu se tup udarac u vrata. Tajla odgovori. U sobu ulete tast kao vetar. "Šta ja to čujem o svom zetu? lzdajnik?"	“I shall remain on Mars and read a book,” said Ettil. A blunt knock on the door. Tylla answered. Father-in-law stormed in. “What’s this I hear about my son-in-law? A traitor?”
"Da, Oče."	“Yes, Father.”
"Ne boriš se u Marsovskoj armiji?"	“You’re not fighting in the Martian Army?”
"Ne, Oče."	“No, Father.”
"Bogovi!" Deda strašno pocrvene. "Neka ti je ime prokleto! Bićeš streljan."	“Gods!” The old father turned very red. “A plague on your name! You’ll be shot.”
"Onda me streljajte i završite s tim."	“Shoot me, then, and have it over.”
"Je li ko čuo za Marsovca koji ne ide u osvajački pohod? Ko!"	“Who ever heard of a Martian not invading? Who!”
"Niko. Priznajem, to je potpuno neverovatno."	“Nobody. It is, I admit, quite incredible.”
"Neverovatno", zašušketaše veštičiji glasovi ispod prozora.	“Incredible,” husked the witch voices under the window.
"Oče, zar ga ne možeš ubediti?" Molila je Tajla.	“Father, can’t you reason with him?” demanded Tylla.
"Da ubeđujem jedno govno", uzviknu Otac, sevajući očima. Priđe i stade iznad Etila. "Bande sviraju, lep dan, žene plaču, deca skaču, sve je u redu, ljudi hrabro marširaju, a ti sediš tu! Kakva sramota!"	“Reason with a dung heap,” cried Father, eyes blazing. He came and stood over Ettil. “Bands playing, a fine day, women weeping, children jumping, everything right, men marching bravely, and you sit here! Oh, shame!”
"Bruka", zajecaše udaljeni glasovi u živici.	“Shame,” sobbed the faraway voices in the hedge.
"Nosi se iz moje kuće s tim svojim lupetanjem", reče Etil, žestoko prasnuvši. "Uzmi svoje medalje i doboše i beži!"	“Get the devil out of my house with your inane chatter,” said Ettil, exploding. “Take your medals and your drums and run!”
Gurnu tasta pored žene koja je vrištala, ali u tom trenutku otvoriše se širom vrata i uđe jedno vojno lice. Jedan glas povika: "Etil Vraj?"	He shoved Father-in-law past a screaming wife, only to have the door thrown wide at this moment, as a military detail entered. A voice shouted, “Ettil Vrye?”
"Da!"	“Yes!”
"Uhapšen si!"	“You are under arrest!”
"Zbogom, moja draga ženo. Odoh u rat sa ovim budalama!" doviknu Etil dok su ga ljudi u bronzanim mrežama vukli kroz vrata.	“Good-by, my dear wife. I am off to the wars with these fools!” shouted Ettil, dragged through the door by the men in bronze mesh.
"Zbogom, zbogom", rekoše gradske veštice zamirućim glasovima...	“Good-by, good-by,” said the town witches, fading away. . . .
Ćelija je bila uredna i čista. Bez knjige, Etil je bio nervozan. Hvatao se za šipke od rešetaka i posmatrao rakete kako uzleću u noćni vazduh. Mnogubrojne zvezde bile su hladne; kao da su se rasturale kad god bi koja raketa uletela među njih.	The cell was neat and clean. Without a book, Ettil was nervous. He gripped the bars and watched the rockets shoot up into the night air. The stars were cold and numerous; they seemed to scatter when every rocket blasted up among them.

"Budale", šaputao je Etil. "Budale!"	“Fools,” whispered Ettil. “Fools!”
Vrata ćelije se otvoriše. Uđe jedan čovek sa nekakvim vozilom, punim knjiga; knjige su bile tu, i tamo, svuda u komorama vozila. Iza njega videla se preteća pojava Vojnog komesara.	The cell door opened. One man with a kind of vehicle entered, full of books; books here, there, everywhere in the chambers of the vehicle. Behind him the Military Assignor loomed.
"Etile Vraj, želimo da znamo zašto si u svojoj kući držao ove zabranjene knjige sa Zemlje. Ove primerke Čudesnih priča, Naučnih priča, Fantastičnih priča. Objasni." Čovek ščepa Etila za članak ruke.	“Ettil Vrye, we want to know why you had these illegal Earth books in your house. These copies of Wonder Stories, Scientific Tales, Fantastic Stories. Explain.” The man gripped Ettil’s wrist.
Etil otrese ruku i oslobodi ga se. "Ako ćete da me streljate, streljajte me. Baš zbog te literature sa Zemlje, neću pokušati da ih osvajam. Iz tog razloga vaša invazija će pretrpeti neuspeh."	Ettil shook him free. “If you’re going to shoot me, shoot me. That literature, from Earth, is the very reason why I won’t try to invade them. It’s the reason why your invasion will fail.”
"Kako to?" natušti se intendant i okrete se požutelim časopisima.	“How so?” The assignor scowled and turned to the yellowed magazines.
"Uzmite bilo koju knjigu", reče Etil. "Koju god hoćete. U devet od deset priča 1929., '30. do '50. godine, po Zemaljskom kalendaru, svaka marsovska invazija na Zemlju uspeva."	“Pick any copy,” said Ettil. “Any one at all. Nine out of ten stories in the years 1929, ‘30 to ‘50, Earth calendar, have every Martian invasion successfully invading Earth.”
"Eh!" intendant se nasmeši, klimnu glavom.	“Ah!” The assignor smiled, nodded.
"Pa onda", reče Etil, "propadne."	“And then,” said Ettil, “failing.”
"To je izdaja! Posedovanje takve literature!"	“That’s treason! Owning such literature!”
"Neka vam bude, ako hoćete. Ali da izvučem nekoliko zaključaka. Svaku invaziju, obavezno, omete jedan mladić, obično mršav, obično Irac, obično sam, po imenu Mik ili Rik, ili Džik ili Benon, koji uništi Marsovce."	“So be it, if you wish. But let me draw a few conclusions. Invariably, each invasion is thwarted by a young man, usually lean, usually Irish, usually alone, named Mick or Rick or Jick or Bannon, who destroys the Martians.”
"Valjda ne veruješ u to!"	“You don’t believe that!”
"Ne, ne verujem da Zemljani stvarno mogu to da učine - ne. Ali imaju jednu osnovu, shvatite, komandante, generacije dece koja čitaju upravo samo takve knjige, upijaju ih. Nemaju ništa drugo sem literature o uspešno suzbijenim invazijama. Možete li da kažete to isto za marsovsku literaturu?"	“No, I don’t believe Earthmen can actually do that—no. But they have a background, understand, Assignor, of generations of children reading just such fiction, absorbing it. They have nothing but a literature of invasions successfully thwarted. Can you say the same for Martian literature?”
"Pa..."	“Well——”
"Ne."	“No.”
"Mislim da ne mogu."	“I guess not.”
"Znate da ne možete. Mi nikada nismo pisali takve fantastične priče. Sada smo se pobunili, napadamo, i izginućemo."	“You know not. We never wrote stories of such a fantastic nature. Now we rebel, we attack, and we shall die.”
"Nisi me ubedio. Kakve to veze ima sa pričama iz časopisa?"	“I don’t see your reasoning on that. Where does this tie in with the magazine stories?”
"Ima veze sa moralom. To je jedna velika stvar. Zemljani znaju da ne mogu da ne uspeju. To je u njima kao krv što im kola u venama. Oni ne mogu pretrpeti neuspeh. Odbiće svaku invaziju, koliko god bila dobro organizovana. To što su u mladosti čitali takve knjige dalo im je veru sa kojom se mi ne možemo ravnati. Mi Marsovci? Mi smo nesigurni; znamo da bismo mogli da propadnemo. Moral nam je nizak, uprkos udaranja u doboše i duvanja u rogove."	“Morale. A big thing. The Earthmen know they can’t fail. It is in them like blood beating in their veins. They cannot fail. They will repel each invasion, no matter how well organized. Their youth of reading just such fiction as this has given them a faith we cannot equal. We Martians? We are uncertain; we know that we might fail. Our morale is low, in spite of the banged drums and tooted horns.”
"Neću da slušam tu izdaju", uzviknu intendant. "Ove izmišljotine će biti spaljene, kao i ti, u roku od sledećih deset minuta. Možeš da biraš, Etile Vraj. Da stupiš u Ratnu legiju ili da budeš spaljen."	“I won’t listen to this treason,” cried the assignor. “This fiction will be burned, as you will be, within the next ten minutes. You have a choice, Ettil Vrye. Join the Legion of War, or burn.”
"To je izbor načina na koji ću umreti. Odabrao sam da izgorim."	“It is a choice of deaths. I choose to burn.”
"Ljudi!"	“Men!”
Izguraše ga u dvorište. Tu vide kako njegovu brižljivo skrivanu lektiru slažu na lomaču. Bila je pripremljena specijalna jama, napunjena naftom do visine od pet stopa. To bi zapaljeno, uz veliku grmljavinu. U to će ga gurnuti, za koji minut.	He was hustled out into the courtyard. There he saw his carefully hoarded reading matter set to the torch. A special pit was prepared, with oil five feet deep in it. This, with a great thunder, was set afire. Into this, in a minute, he would be pushed.
Na drugom kraju dvorišta, u senci, primeti svečanu priliku svog sina koji je stajao sam, krupnih žutih očiju sjajnih od žalosti i straha. Nije ispružao ruku niti govorio, već je samo gledao svog oca kao kakva umiruća životinja, zanemela životinja koja traži spas.	On the far side of the courtyard, in shadow, he noticed the solemn figure of his son standing alone, his great yellow eyes luminous with sorrow and fear. He did not put out his hand or speak, but only looked at his father like some dying animal, a wordless animal seeking rescue.
Etil je gledao u usplamsalu jamu. Oseti kako su ga zgrabile grube ruke, kako ga svlače, guraju napred ka vreloj ivici smrti. Tek tada Etil proguta knedlu i uzviknu: "Čekajte!"	Ettil looked at the flaming pit. He felt the rough hands seize him, strip him, push him forward to the hot perimeter of death. Only then did Ettil swallow and cry out, “Wait!”
Obasjano narandžastom vatrom, intendantovo lice isturi se prema njemu u vazduhu kaji je treperio. "Šta je?"	The assignor’s face, bright with the orange fire, pushed forward in the trembling air. “What is it?”
"Stupiću u Ratnu legiju", odgovori Etil.	“I will join the Legion of War,” replied Ettil.
"Dobro! Oslobodite ga!"	“Good! Release him!”
Ruke spadoše s njega.	The hands fell away.
Kada se okrenuo video je sina kako stoji daleko u dvorištu i čeka. Sin mu se nije osmehivao, samo je čekao. Na nebu jedna bronzana raketa skoči preko zvezda, u plamenu...	As he turned he saw his son standing far across the court, waiting. His son was not smiling, only waiting. In the sky a bronze rocket leaped across the stars, ablaze. . . .
"A sada se opraštamo od svih stamenih ratnika", reče komesar. Muzika stade da udara, a vetar nanese sitnu slatku kišu suza na oznojenu vojsku. Deca su skakala unaokolo. U opštem metežu Etil vide svoju ženu kako ponosno plače, sina svečanog i ćutljivog pored nje.	“And now we bid good-by to these stalwart warriors,” said the assignor. The band thumped and the wind blew a fine sweet rain of tears gently upon the sweating army. The children cavorted. In the chaos Ettil saw his wife weeping with pride, his son solemn and silent at her side.

Umarširaše u brod, svi nasmejani i hrabri. Prikopčaše se u svoje paukove mreže. Duž celog broda mreže su bile ispunjene lenjim ljudima koji su se izležavali. Žvakali su komade hrane i čekali. Jedan veliki kapak tresnu i zatvori se. Zašišta ventil.	They marched into the ship, everybody laughing and brave. They buckled themselves into their spiderwebs. All through the tense ship the spiderwebs were filled with lounging, lazy men. They chewed on bits of food and waited. A great lid slammed shut. A valve hissed.
"Odosmo na Zemlju pa u propast", prošapta Etil.	“Off to Earth and destruction,” whispered Ettil.
"Šta?" zapita neko.	“What?” asked someone.
"Odosmo u slavnu pobedu", reče Etil uz grimasu.	“Off to glorious victory,” said Ettil, grimacing.
Raketa poskoči.	The rocket jumped.
Svemir, mislio je Etil. Evo nas, sevamo u mesinganom kotlu preko crnih mrlja i ružičastih svetla svemira. Evo nas, slavljeničke rakete koja se uzdiže sa Marsa da oči Zemljana ispuni plamenim strahom dok gledaju gore u nebo. Kako to izgleda, kada si daleko, daleko od kuće, žene, deteta, ovde i sada?	Space, thought Ettil. Here we are banging across black inks and pink lights of space in a brass kettle. Here we are, a celebratory rocket heaved out to fill the Earthmen’s eyes with fear flames as they look up to the sky. What is it like, being far, far away from your home, your wife, your child, here and now?
Pokuša da razloži svoje drhtanje. Bilo je to kao da si vezao svoje najskrivenije unutrašnje organe za Mars, pa se onda otrgneš i odeš milion milja daleko. Srce ti je još na Marsu, pumpa krv, sjaji. Mozak ti je i dalje na Marsu, misli, sav u vijugama, kao napuštena baklja. Želudac još na Marsu, pospan, muči se da svari poslednju večeru. Pluća još u prohladnom marsovskom vazduhu boje plavog vina, meki sklopljeni mehovi koji cvile za oslobođenjem, jedan deo tebe čezne za ostalim.	He tried to analyze his trembling. It was like tying your most secret inward working organs to Mars and then jumping out a million miles. Your heart was still on Mars, pumping, glowing. Your brain was still on Mars, thinking, crenulated, like an abandoned torch. Your stomach was still on Mars, somnolent, trying to digest the final dinner. Your lungs were still in the cool blue wine air of Mars, a soft folded bellows screaming for release, one part of you longing for the rest.
Jer eto tu si, automat bez zubaca u zupčaniku, telo na kome su zvaničnici izvršili kliničku autopsiju, i sve od tebe što je nešto značilo ostavili po praznim morima i rasuto po zatamnjenim brdima. Evo te tu, prazan si kao boca, bez vatre, ledan, i imaš jedino ruke da Zemljanima podariš smrt. Par ruku, to je sve što si ti sada, razmišljao je sa hladnom odsutnošću duha.	For here you were, a meshless, cogless automaton, a body upon which officials had performed clinical autopsy and left all of you that counted back upon the empty seas and strewn over the darkened hills. Here you were, bottle-empty, fireless, chill, with only your hands to give death to Earthmen. A pair of hands is all you are now, he thought in cold remoteness.
Ležiš tu u ogromnoj mreži. Ostali su oko tebe, ali oni su celi - cela srca i tela. A sve od tebe što je živo ostalo je za tobom da hoda opustelim morima po večernjim vetrovima. Ovo ovde, ova hladna zemljana stvar, već je mrtva.	Here you lie in the tremendous web. Others are about you, but they are whole—whole hearts and bodies. But all of you that lives is back there walking the desolate seas in evening winds. This thing here, this cold clay thing, is already dead.
"Napadačke stanice, napadačke stanice, napad!"	“Attack stations, attack stations, attack!”
"Spremna, spremna, spremna!"	“Ready, ready, ready!”
"Diž' se!"	“Up!”
"Skači iz mreža, brzo!"	“Out of the webs, quick!”
Etil se pokrete. Negde ispred njega micale su se njegove dve hladne šake.	Ettil moved. Somewhere before him his two cold hands moved.
Kako je sve to išlo brzo, mislio je. Pre godinu dana jedna raketa sa Zemlje stigla je na Mars. Naši naučnici, sa svojom neverovatnom telepatskom sposobnošću, napravili su njenu kopiju; naši radnici, sa svojim neverovatnim fabrikama, reprodukovali su je u sto primeraka. Od onda nijedan brod sa Zemlje više nije stigao na Mars, a mi ipak savršeno znamo njihov jezik, svi mi. Poznajemo njihovu kulturu, njihovu logiku. I platićemo cenu naših sjajnih sposobnosti...	How swift it has all been, he thought. A year ago one Earth rocket reached Mars. Our scientists, with their incredible telepathic ability, copied it; our workers, with their incredible plants, reproduced it a hundredfold. No other Earth ship has reached Mars since then, and yet we know their language perfectly, all of us. We know their culture, their logic. And we shall pay the price of our brilliance.
"Puške na gotovs!"	“Guns on the ready!”
"Razumem!"	“Right!”
"Osmatrači!"	“Sights!”
"Čitanje u miljama?"	“Reading by miles?”
"Deset hiljada!"	“Ten thousand!”
"Napadaj!"	“Attack!”
Tišina ispunjena zujanjem. Tišina insekata koji se komešaju u zidovima rakete. Insekatsko pevuckanje sićušnih kalemova i polužica i zvrjanje točkova. Ćutanje ljudi koji čekaju. Tišina žlezda što laganim i stalnim pulsiranjem ispuštaju znoj ispod ruke, na čelo, ispod iskolačenih bledih očiju!	A humming silence. A silence of insects throbbing in the walls of the rocket. The insect singing of tiny bobbins and levers and whirls of wheels. Silence of waiting men. Silence of glands emitting the slow steady pulse of sweat under arm, on brow, under staring pale eyes!
"Čekaj! Spremni!"	“Wait! Ready!”
Etil se noktima držao za svoje duševno zdravlje, držao se teško i dugo.	Ettil hung onto his sanity with his fingernails, hung hard and long.
Tišina, tišina, tišina. Čekanje.	Silence, silence, silence. Waiting.
Piii-i-ip!	Teeee-e-ee!
"Šta je to?"	“What’s that?”
"Zemaljski radio!"	“Earth radio!”
"Uhvati ih!"	“Cut them in!”
"Pokušavaju da dopru da nas pozovu. Uključi ih!"	“They’re trying to reach us, call us. Cut them in!”

Iiii-i-i!	Eee-e-e!
"Evo ih! Slušaj!"	“Here they are! Listen!”
"Zovemo marsovsku invazionu flotu!"	“Calling Martian invasion fleet!”
Tišina slušanja, zujanje insekata utihnulo da bi se oštar zemaljski glas raspraskao po sobama ljudi koji uznemireno čekaju.	The listening silence, the insect hum pulling back to let the sharp Earth voice crack in upon the rooms of waiting men.
"Zove Zemlja. Ovde Vilijam Somers, predsednik Udruženja Ujedinjenih američkih proizvođača!"	“This is Earth calling. This is William Sommers, president of the Association of United American Producers!”
Etil se čvrsto pribi uz svoju stanicu, naže se napred, sa zatvorenim očima.	Ettil held tight to his station, bent forward, eyes shut.
"Dobrodošli na Zemlju."	“Welcome to Earth.”
"Šta?" zaurlaše ljudi u raketi. "Šta je rekao?"	“What?” the men in the rocket roared. “What did he say?”
"Da, dobrodošli na Zemlju."	“Yes, welcome to Earth.”
"To je trik!"	“It’s a trick!”
Etil uzdrhta, otvori oči i zbunjeno se zagleda u nevidljiv glas koji je dolazio sa tavanice.	Ettil shivered, opened his eyes to stare in bewilderment at the unseen voice from the ceiling source.
"Dobro došli! Dobro došli na zelenu, industrijsku Zemlju!" saopšti prijateljski glas. "Dočekujemo vas raširenih ruku, da krvavu invaziju pretvorimo u vreme prijateljstva koja će trajati kroz celokupno Vreme."	“Welcome! Welcome to green, industrial Earth!” declared the friendly voice. “With open arms we welcome you, to turn a bloody invasion into a time of friendships that will last through all of Time.”
"Trik!"	“A trick!”
"Tiše, slušaj!"	“Hush, listen!”
"Pre mnogo godina mi sa Zemlje smo se odrekli rata, uništili smo naše atomske bombe. Sada, pošto smo ovako nespremni, ne ostaje nam ništa drugo nego da vam poželimo dobrodošlicu. Planeta je vaša. Tražimo samo milost od vas dobrih i milostivih osvajača."	“Many years ago we of Earth renounced war, destroyed our atom bombs. Now, unprepared as we are, there is nothing for us but to welcome you. The planet is yours. We ask only mercy from you good and merciful invaders.”
"To ne može biti istina!" prošaputa jedan glas.	“It can’t be true!” a voice whispered. “It must be a trick!”
"Spustite se i budite pozdravljeni, svi vi", reče g. Vilijam Somers sa Zemlje. "Sletite bilo gde. Zemlja je vaša; svi smo braća!"	“Land and be welcomed, all of you,” said Mr. William Sommers of Earth. “Land anywhere. Earth is yours; we are all brothers!”
Etil poče da se smeje. Svi u sobi se okrenuše da ga vide. Ostali Marsovci su se podmigivali. "Pludeo. Poludeo." Nije prestajao da se smeje sve dok ga nisu udarili.	Ettil began to laugh. Everyone in the room turned to see him. The other Martians blinked. “He’s gone mad!” He did not stop laughing until they hit him.
Mali debeo čovek nasred vrele raketne platforme u Grin Taunu u Kaliforniji istrže čistu belu maramicu iz džepa i prinese je vlažnom čelu. Sa podijuma od svežih dasaka slepo je žmirkao na pedeset hiljada ljudi koje je zadržavao kordon policajaca. Svi su gledali u nebo.	The tiny fat man in the center of the hot rocket tarmac at Green Town, California, jerked out a clean white handkerchief and touched it to his wet brow. He squinted blindly from the fresh plank platform at the fifty thousand people restrained behind a fence of policemen, arm to arm. Everybody looked at the sky.
"Eno ih!"	“There they are!”
Svi zinuše.	A gasp.
"Ne, to su samo galebovi!"	“No, just sea gulls!”
Razočarano gunđanje.	A disappointed grumble.
"Počinjem da mislim da bi bilo bolje da smo im objavili rat", šapnu gradonačelnik. "Onda bismo mogli svi da idemo kući, kući."	“I’m beginning to think it would have been better to have declared war on them,” whispered the mayor. “Then we could all go home.”
"Psst!" reče njegova žena.	“Sh-h!” said his wife.
"Eno!" zaurla gomila.	“There!” The crowd roared.
Iz sunca se pojaviše marsovske rakete.	Out of the sun came the Martian rockets.
"Svi spremni?" Gradonačelnik se nervozno ogledao oko sebe.	“Everybody ready?” The mayor glanced nervously about.
"Da, gospodine", reče Mis Kalifornija 1965.	“Yes, sir,” said Miss California 1965.
"Da", reče Mis Amerika 1940, koja je dojurila u poslednjem trenutku kao zamena za Mis Ameriku 1966, koja je bolesna ležala kod kuće.	“Yes,” said Miss America 1940, who had come rushing up at the last minute as a substitute for Miss America 1966, who was ill at home.

"Jesmo, go-spodine", reče sa žarom Mister Najveći Grejpfrut u Dolini San Fernando 1956.	“Yes siree,” said Mr. Biggest Grapefruit in San Fernando Valley 1956, eagerly.
"Muzika, spremna?"	“Ready, band?”
Duvački orkestar isturi uvis svoje instrumente kao puške.	The band poised its brass like so many guns.
"Spremni!"	“Ready!”
Raketa se spusti. "Sad!"	The rockets landed. “Go!”
Orkestar odsvira Kalifornijo, evo me deset puta. Od podneva sve do jedan sat gradonačelnik je držao govor, mlatarajući rukama u pravcu nemih, zabrinutih raketa.	The band played “California, Here I Come” ten times. From noon until one o’clock the mayor made a speech, shaking his hands in the direction of the silent, apprehensive rockets.
U jedan i petnaest otvoriše se zapečaćeni ulazi na raketama. Orkestar odsvira Oh, ti zemljo zlatna tri puta.	At one-fifteen the seals of the rockets opened The band played “Oh, You Golden State” three times.
Etil i još pedeset Marsovaca iskočiše sa puškama na gotovs.	Ettil and fifty other Martians leaped out, guns at the ready.
Gradonačelnik jurnu napred sa ključem Zemlje u rukama.	The mayor ran forward with the key to Earth in his hands.
Orkestar je svirao Dolazi nam Božić Bata, a hor u punom sastavu doveden iz Long Biča otpeva uz tu melodiju druge reči, nešto kao Dolaze nam Marsovci u grad.	The band played “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town,” and a full chorus of singers imported from Long Beach sang different words to it, something about “Martians Are Coming to Town.”
Pošto nisu videli nikakvo oružje, Marsovci odahnuše, ali su puške i dalje držali na gotovs.	Seeing no weapons about, the Martians relaxed, but kept their guns out.
Od jedan i trideset pa do dva i petnaest gradonačelnik ponovo održa isti govor, radi Marsovaca.	From one-thirty until two-fifteen the mayor made the same speech over for the benefit of the Martians.
U dva i trideset Mis Amerika 1940. dobrovoljno se prijavi da će poljubiti sve Marsovce ako stanu u red.	At two-thirty Miss America of 1940 volunteered to kiss all the Martians if they lined up.
U dva i trideset i deset sekundi muzika odsvira Zdravo da ste svi, da bi prikrila zbunjenost izazvanu predlogom Mis Amerike. U dva i trideset pet G. Najveći Grejpfrut pokloni Marsovcima kamion dvotonac pun grejpfruta.	At two-thirty and ten seconds the band played “How Do You Do, Everybody,” to cover up the confusion caused by Miss America’s suggestion. At two thirty-five Mr. Biggest Grapefruit presented the Martians with a two-ton truck full of grapefruit.
U dva i trideset sedam gradonačelnik im svima razdeli besplatne propusnice za pozorišta Elita i Mažestik, kombinujući taj gest sa još jednim govorom koji potraja do posle tri sata.	At two thirty-seven the mayor gave them all free passes to the Elite and Majestic theaters, combining this gesture with another speech which lasted until after three.
Muzika zasvira, a pedeset hiljada ljudi zapeva Jer oni su dobri drugari.	The band played, and the fifty thousand people sang, “For They Are Jolly Good Fellows.”
U četiri sata bilo je gotovo.	It was over at four o’clock.
Etil sede u hlad od rakete sa još dvojicom svojih drugova. "Znači, to je Zemlja!"	Ettil sat down in the shadow of the rocket, two of his fellows with him. “So this is Earth!”
"Čujte, treba poubijati prljave pacove", reče jedan Marsovac. "Ja im ne verujem. Podmukli su. Koji im je motiv da ovako postupaju prema nama? Podiže kutiju nečeg šuštavog. "Šta su mi ovo dali? "Uzorak, kažu." Pročita etiketu. Bliks, Novi penušavi sapun.	“I say kill the filthy rats,” said one Martian. “I don’t trust them. They’re sneaky. What’s their motive for treating us this way?” He held up a box of something that rustled. “What’s this stuff they gave me? A sample, they said.” He read the label. BLIX, the new sudsy soap.
Gomila se rasturila unaokolo, mešala se sa Marsovcima, kao na vašaru. Svuda se čuo žamor ljudi koji su opipavali rakete, postavljali pitanja.	The crowd had drifted about, was mingling with the Martians like a carnival throng. Everywhere was the buzzing murmur of people fingering the rockets, asking questions.
Etilu je bilo hladno. Počinjao je da drhti, sada još i više. "Zar ne osećaš?" šaputao je. "Napetost, zloćudnost svega ovoga. Nešto će nam se desiti. Oni imaju neki plan. Nešto tanano i strašno. Nešto će nam napraviti - znam."	Ettil was cold. He was beginning to tremble even more now. “Don’t you feel it?” he whispered. “The tenseness, the evilness of all this. Something’s going to happen to us. They have some plan. Something subtle and horrible. They’re going to do something to us—I know.”
"Treba ih sve poubijati!"	“I say kill every one of them!”
"Kako da ubijaš ljude koji te zovu 'drugar' i 'pobratime'?" zapita drugi Marsovac.	“How can you kill people who call you ‘pal’ and ‘buddy’?” asked another Martian.
Etil odmahnu glavom. "Oni su iskreni. A ja ipak osećam kao da smo u nekom velikom kazanu sa kiselinom i da se rastapamo i rastapamo. Plašim se. Prestrašen sam." Onda ispusti svoj razum napolje da popipa po gomili. "Jeste, zaista su prijateljski raspoloženi, dobro-došao-bolje-te-našao (jedan od njihovih izraza). Jedna ogromna masa običnih ljudi koji podjednako vole pse i mačke i Marsovce. Pa ipak - pa ipak..."	Ettil shook his head. “They’re sincere. And yet I feel as if we were in a big acid vat melting away, away. I’m frightened.” He put his mind out to touch among the crowd. “Yes, they’re really friendly, hail-fellows-well-met (one of their terms). One huge mass of common men, loving dogs and cats and Martians equally. And yet—and yet——”
Muzika zasvira Iskotrljaj bure. Firma Hagenbak pivo iz Fresna u Kaliforniji besplatno je točila pivo za sve.	The band played “Roll Out the Barrel.” Free beer was being distributed through the courtesy of Hagenback Beer, Fresno, California.
Ljudima poče da pripada muka.	The sickness came.
Kuljnu im vodurina na usta. Povraćanje se čulo na sve strane.	The men poured out fountains of slush from their mouths. The sound of sickness filled the land.
Pritiskujući usta, Etil je sedeo ispod jednog platana. "Zavera, zavera, užasna zavera", ječao je držeći se za stomak.	Gagging, Ettil sat beneath a sycamore tree. “A plot, a plot—a horrible plot,” he groaned, holding his stomach.
"Šta si pojeo?" Komesar je stajao iznad njega.	“What did you eat?” The assignor stood over him.
"Nešto što oni nazivaju kokice", jeknu Etil.	“Something that they called popcorn,” groaned Ettil.

"I šta još?"	“And?”
"I još neko dugačko meso na pecivu, i nekakvu žutu tečnost u ledenom sudu, pa nešto kao ribu i nešto što zovu pastrami", uzdahnu Etil trepereći očnim kapcima.	“And some sort of long meat on a bun, and some yellow liquid in an iced vat, and some sort of fish and something called pastrami,” sighed Ettil, eyelids flickering.
Svuda unaokolo čuli su se glasovi marsovskih osvajača.	The moans of the Martian invaders sounded all about.
"Pobijte zavereničke zmije!" viknu neko slabim glasom.	“Kill the plotting snakes!” somebody cried weakly.
"Stani", reče komesar. "To je samo gostoprimstvo. Oni su preterali s gostoprimstvom. Sada na noge, ljudi. U grad. Moramo da postavimo male garnizone ljudi unaokolo da budemo sigurni da je sve u redu. Ostali brodovi se spuštaju u drugim gradovima. Mi ovde imamo svoj posao."	“Hold on,” said the assignor. “It’s merely hospitality. They overdid it. Up on your feet now, men. Into the town. We’ve got to place small garrisons of men about to make sure all is well. Other ships are landing in other cities. We’ve our job to do here.”
Ljudi se uspraviše na noge i stadoše glupavo žmirkajući oko sebe.	The men gained their feet and stood blinking stupidly about.
"Napred, marš!"	“Forward, march!”
Jedan, dva, tri, četiri! Jedan, dva, tri, četiri!...	One, two, three, four! One, two, three, four! . . .
Bele trgovine gradića ležale su usnulo na treperavoj vrućini. Vrelina je zračila odasvud - iz stubova, betona, metala, nadstrešnica, krovova, ter-papira - svega.	The white stores of the little town lay dreaming in shimmering heat. Heat emanated from everything—poles, concrete, metal, awnings, roofs, tar paper—everything.
Po asfaltu su odzvanjali koraci Marsovaca.	The sound of Martian feet sounded on the asphalt.
"Pazite, ljudi!" prošaputa komesar. Prođoše pored jednog salona za ulepšavanje.	“Careful, men!” whispered the assignor. They walked past a beauty shop.
Iznutra se začu prigušeno kikotanje. "Pazi!"	From inside, a furtive giggle. “Look!”
Jedna bakrenasta glava virnu kroz prozor i iščeze kao lutka. U ključaonici, sjajilo je i treptalo jedno plavo oko.	A coppery head bobbed and vanished like a doll in the window. A blue eye glinted and winked at a keyhole.
"To je zavera", šaputao je Etil. "Zavera, kažem vam!"	“It’s a plot,” whispered Ettil. “A plot, I tell you!”
Zahuktali ventilatori izbacivali su u letnji vazduh talase parfema iz pećina u kojima su se žene skrivale kao podmorska stvorenja ispod električnih haubi, sa kosama ukovrdžanim u čudne gužve i plastove, prepredenim ustakljenim očima, animalne i lukave, sa ustima namazanim neonski crvenom bojom. Ventilatori su zvrjali, dok je mirisni vetar izlazio u tišinu i mir, prolazio kroz zeleno drveće, provlačio se između zapanjenih Marsovaca.	The odors of perfume were fanned out on the summer air by the whirling vents of the grottoes where the women hid like undersea creatures, under electric cones, their hair curled into wild whorls and peaks, their eyes shrewd and glassy, animal and sly, their mouths painted a neon red. Fans were whirring, the perfumed wind issuing upon the stillness, moving among green trees, creeping among the amazed Martians.
"Za ime Boga", vrisnu Etil, jer mu nervi odjednom popustiše. "Potrpajmo se u rakete - hajdemo kući! Pohvataće nas! Ta jeziva stvorenja tamo unutra. Vidite li ih? Ta zla podmorska bića, te žene u svojim hladovitim pećinicama od veštačkog kamena!"	“For God’s sake!” screamed Ettil, his nerves suddenly breaking loose. “Let’s get in our rockets—go home! They’ll get us! Those horrid things in there. See them? Those evil undersea things, those women in their cool little caverns of artificial rock!”
"Zaveži!"	“Shut up!”
Gledaj ih tamo unutra, mislio je on, kako lepršaju haljinama kao hladnim zelenim škrgama nad stubastim nogama. Stade da viče.	Look at them in there, he thought, drifting their dresses like cool green gills over their pillar legs. He shouted.
"Neka mu neko začepi usta!"	“Someone shut his mouth!”
"Izjuriće na nas, bacaće kutije sa čokoladom i otužne ljubavne romane, drečaće, onim svojim crvenim masnim ustima! Poplaviće nas banalnošću, uništiti nam sposobnost osećanja! Gledajte ih, ubijaju ih električnim uredajima, a one zujkaju, pevuše i mrmljaju! Usuđujete li se da uđete?"	“They’ll rush out on us, hurling chocolate boxes and copies of Kleig Love and Holly Pick-ture, shrieking with their red greasy mouths! Inundate us with banality, destroy our sensibilities! Look at them, being electrocuted by devices, their voices like hums and chants and murmurs! Do you dare go in there?”
"Zašto da ne?" zapitaše ostali Marsovci.	“Why not?” asked the other Martians.
"Ispržiće vas, izbeliti, izmeniti vas! Lomiće vas, mrviti, sve dok ne budete ništa drugo nego muž, radni čovek, onaj što ima pare pa plaća da bi one mogle da dolaze tu, da sede i žderu te svoje gadne čokolade! Mislite da biste ih mogli zauzdati?"	“They’ll fry you, bleach you, change you! Crack you, flake you away until you’re nothing but a husband, a working man, the one with the money who pays so they can come sit in there devouring their evil chocolates! Do you think you could control them?”
"Da, tako nam bogova!"	“Yes, by the gods!”
Iz daljine dopre jedan glas, visok i kreštav, ženski glas koji reče: "Zar onaj tamo u sredini nije sladak?"	From a distance a voice drifted, a high and shrill voice, a woman’s voice saying, “Ain’t that middle one there cute?”
"Marsovci nisu tako loši, na kraju krajeva. Pa šta, oni su samo muškarci", reče druga, udaljujući se.	“Martians ain’t so bad after all. Gee, they’re just men,” said another, fading.
"E-hej. Ju-huu! Marsovci! E-hej!"	“Hey, there. Yoo-hoo! Martians! Hey!”
Urlajući, Etil potrča...	Yelling, Ettil ran. . . .
Sedeo je u parku i neprestano drhtao. Sećao se šta je video. Gledajući uvis u tamno noćno nebo osećao se tako daleko od kuće, tako napušten. Čak i sada, dok je sedeo među mirnim drvećem, video je u daljini marsovske ratnike kako šetaju ulicama sa Zemljankama, iščezavaju u avetinjsku tminu malih kuća emocije da čuju fantomske zvuke belih stvorova koji se kreću po sivim ekranima, sa tršavim ženicama pored sebe, dok ženice među vilicama premeću jastučiće želatinozne gume, a drugi takvi jastučići se stvrdnjavaju ispod sedišta, sa fosilnim tragovima sićušnih mačjih zuba žena zauvek utisnutim u njih. Špilja vetrova - bioskop.	He sat in a park and trembled steadily. He remembered what he had seen. Looking up at the dark night sky, he felt so far from home, so deserted. Even now, as he sat among the still trees, in the distance he could see Martian warriors walking the streets with the Earth women, vanishing into the phantom darknesses of the little emotion palaces to hear the ghastly sounds of white things moving on gray screens, with little frizz-haired women beside them, wads of gelatinous gum working in their jaws, other wads under the seats, hardening with the fossil imprints of the women’s tiny cat teeth forever imbedded therein. The cave of winds—the cinema.
"Zdravo."	“Hello.”
On prestrašeno trže glavom.	He jerked his head in terror.

Jedna žena sede na klupu kraj njega, lenjo žvaćući gumu. "Nemoj da bežiš; ja ne ujedam", reče.	A woman sat on the bench beside him, chewing gum lazily. “Don’t run off; I don’t bite,” she said. “Oh,” he said.
"Je l' bi išao u bioskop?" reče ona.	“Like to go to the pictures?” she said.
"Ne."	“No.”
"Ma 'ajde", reče ona. "Svi su u bioskopu."	“Aw, come on,” she said. “Everybody else is.”
"Ne", reče on. "Je li to sve što vi radite na ovom svetu?"	“No,” he said. “Is that all you do in this world?”
"Sve? Zar to nije dosta?" Njene plave oči se sumnjičavo raširiše. "Šta hoćeš da radim - da sedim kod kuće, čitam knjigu? Ha, ha! To je štos."	“All? Ain’t that enough?” Her blue eyes widened suspiciously. “What you want me to do—sit home, read a book? Ha, ha! That’s rich.”
Etil se zagleda u nju pre nego što joj postavi pitanje.	Ettil stared at her a moment before asking a question.
"Radite li vi išta drugo?" zapita.	“Do you do anything else?” he asked.
"Vozimo se kolima. Imaš kola? Treba da nabaviš veliki nov Podler šest sa krovom na sklapanje. Što su to kolica! Ko god ima Podler šest mož' da izađe s kojom god ribom 'oće, to da znaš!" reče ona namignuvši mu. "Mora da imaš sve moguće vrste para - sa Marsa si i sve to. Mislim ako bi stvarno želeo mogo bi da kupiš jedan Podler šest pa da putuješ 'de god 'oćeš."	“Ride in cars. You got a car? You oughta get you a big new convertible Podler Six. Gee, they’re fancy! Any man with a Podler Six can go out with any gal, you bet!” she said, blinking at him. “I bet you got all kinds of money—you come from Mars and all. I bet if you really wanted you could get a Podler Six and travel everywhere.”
"Možda na šou?"	“To the show maybe?”
"Pa šta njemu fali?"	“What’s wrong with ‘at?”
"Ništa - ništa."	“Nothing—nothing.”
"Znaš kako ti govoriš, gospodine?" reče ona. "Kao Komunista! Jeste, gospodine, niko ti neće stati iza takvog govora, to ne. Nema greške u našem starom sistemčiću. Bili smo dobri da pustimo vas Marsovce da izvršite invaziju, i ni mali prst nismo podigli, je l' tako?"	“You know what you talk like, mister?” she said. “A Communist! Yes, sir, that’s the kinda talk nobody stands for, by gosh. Nothing wrong with our little old system. We was good enough to let you Martians invade, and we never raised even our bitty finger, did we?”
"To i pokušavam da shvatim", reče Etil. "Zašto ste nas pustili?"	“That’s what I’ve been trying to understand,” said Ettil. “Why did you let us?”
"Što smo velikodušni, gospodine; eto zašto! Zapamti samo to, velikodušni." Onda ode da traži nekog drugog.	“’Cause we’re bighearted, mister; that’s why! Just remember that, bighearted.” She walked off to look for someone else.
Skupljajući hrabrost, Etil poče da piše pismo ženi, pažljivo vukući perom po hartiji na kolenu.	Gathering courage to himself, Ettil began to write a letter to his wife, moving the pen carefully over the paper on his knee.
"Draga Tajla..."	“Dear Tylla——”
Ali opet ga prekidoše. Jedna mala devojčica-starica, sa okruglim bledim nabranim lišcem zatrese mu dairama ispred nosa i natera ga da digne pogled.	But again he was interrupted. A small-little-girl-of-an-old-woman, with a pale round wrinkled little face, shook her tambourine in front of his nose, forcing him to glance up.
"Brate", uzviknu sevajući očima. "Jesi li spasen?"	“Brother,” she cried, eyes blazing. “Have you been saved?”
"Jesam li u opasnosti?" Etil ispusti pero i skoči.	“Am I in danger?” Ettil dropped his pen, jumping.
"U strašnoj opasnosti!" stade da zavija žena, zvečeći dairama, gledajući u nebo. "Potrebno ti je da se spaseš, brate, najpreče ti je potrebno!"	“Terrible danger!” she wailed, clanking her tambourine, gazing at the sky. “You need to be saved, brother, in the worst way!”
"Sklon sam da se složim", reče on drhteći.	“I’m inclined to agree,” he said, trembling.
"Danas smo već mnoge spasli. Ja lično sam spasla trojicu, vas Marsovca. Je l' to nije lepo?" isceri se ona.	“We saved lots already today. I saved three myself, of you Mars people. Ain’t that nice?” She grinned at him.
"Valjda jeste."	“I guess so.”
Žena je bila grdno sumnjičava. Nagnu se napred, tajanstveno šapćući. "Brate", htela je da zna, "jesi ti kršten?"	She was acutely suspicious. She leaned forward with her secret whisper. “Brother,” she wanted to know, “you been baptized?”
"Ne znam", odvrati on šapatom.	“I don’t know,” he whispered back.
"Ne znaš?" kriknu ona i trže uvis ruku sa dairama.	“You don’t know?” she cried, flinging up hand and tambourine.
"Je li to kao kad te streljaju?" zapita on.	“Is it like being shot?” he asked.
"Brate", reče ona, "ti si u lošem i grešnom stanju. Za to je krivo tvoje neznalačko vaspitanje. Mora da su te škole na Marsu grozne - ne uče vas nikakvoj istini uopšte. Samo isfabrikovane laži. Brate, ti moraš da budeš kršten ako želiš da budeš srećan."	“Brother,” she said, “you are in a bad and sinful condition. I blame it on your ignorant bringing up. I bet those schools on Mars are terrible—don’t teach you no truth at all. Just a pack of made-up lies. Brother, you got to be baptized if you want to be happy.”
"Hoće li me to usrećiti čak i u ovom svetu ovde?" reče on. "Ne traži da ti se sve da na tanjiru", reče ona. "Zadovolji se i korom hleba, jer ima jedan drugi svet, bolji od ovoga, na koji ćemo svi otići."	“Will it make me happy even in this world here?” he said. “Don’t ask for everything on your platter,” she said. “Be satisfied with a wrinkled pea, for there’s another world we’re all going to that’s better than this one.”

"Poznajem ja taj svet", reče on.	“I know that world,” he said.
"On je miran", reče ona.	“It’s peaceful,” she said.
"Da."	“Yes.”
"Tamo je spokojstvo", reče ona.	“There’s quiet,” she said.
"Da."	“Yes.”
"Tamo teče med i mleko."	“There’s milk and honey flowing.”
"Da, da", reče on.	“Why, yes,” he said.
"I svi se smeju."	“And everybody’s laughing.”
"Vidim ga sada", reče on.	“I can see it now,” he said.
"Jedan bolji svet", reče ona.	“A better world,” she said.
"Daleko bolji", reče on. "Jeste, Mars je divna planeta."	“Far better,” he said. “Yes, Mars is a great planet.”
"Gospodine", reče ona ukrutivši se i gotovo mu tresnu daire u lice, "je l' se vi šalite sa mnom?"	“Mister,” she said, tightening up and almost flinging the tambourine in his face, “you been joking with me?”
"Ma, ne." Bio je zbunjen i pometen. "Mislio sam da govorite o..."	“Why, no.” He was embarrassed and bewildered. “I thought you were talking about——”
"Ne o pokvarenom gadnom starom Marsu, slušajte, gospodine! Takvi kao što ste vi ima da se kuvaju godinama, da trpe i osipaju se crnim prištevima, da budu udarani na muke..."	“Not about mean old nasty Mars, I tell you, mister! It’s your type that is going to boil for years, and suffer and break out in black pimples and be tortured——”
"Moram da priznam da Zemlja nije baš lepa. Divno ste je opisali."	“I must admit Earth isn’t very nice. You’ve described it beautifully.”
"Gospodine, opet ti mene zavitlavaš!" dreknu ona ljutito.	“Mister, you’re funning me again!” she cried angrily.
"Ne, ne - molim vas. Ja sam neobavešten."	“No, no—please. I plead ignorance.”
"E pa", reče ona, "ti si neznabožac, a neznabošci su neispravni. Evo ti cedulja. Dođi sutra uveče na ovu adresu, pa da te krste i da budeš srećan. Mi uzvikivamo i đuskamo i govorimo raznim glasovima, pa ako 'oćeš da čuješ našu bandu od svi' duvački' instrumenata, ti dođi, je l' 'oćeš sada?"	“Well,” she said, “you’re a heathen, and heathens are improper. Here’s a paper. Come to this address tomorrow night and be baptized and be happy. We shouts and we stomps and we talk in voices, so if you want to hear our all-cornet, all-brass band, you come, won’t you now?”
"Pokušaću", reče on ustežući se.	“I’ll try,” he said hesitantly.
Ona ode ulicom udarajući u daire, pevajući iz sveg glasa: "Srećna sam ja, vazda sam srećna ja."	Down the street she went, patting her tambourine, singing at the top of her voice, “Happy Am I, I’m Always Happy.”
Zabezeknut, Etil se vrati svom pismu.	Dazed, Ettil returned to his letter.
"Draga Tajla, kad pomislim da sam u svojoj naivnosti zamišljao da će Zemljani morati da preduzimaju kontra napad puškama i bombama. Ne, ne. Tužno je kako sam se prevario. Nema nikakvog Rika ni Mika, niti Džika niti Benona - tih lukavaca koji spasavaju svetove. Nema ih.	“Dear Tylla: To think that in my naïveté I imagined that the Earthmen would have to counterattack with guns and bombs. No, no. I was sadly wrong. There is no Rick or Mick or Jick or Bannon—those lever fellows who save worlds. No.
Ima plavih robota sa ružičastim gumenim telima, stvarnih, ali nekako nestvarnih, živih ali nekako automatskih u svim reakcijama, koji ceo svoj život provode u pećinama. Derrieres Pozadine (franc.) zadnjice; prim. prev. su im neverovatne po obimu. Oči su im fiksirane i nepokretne od beskrajnog buljenja u filmske ekrane. Jedini mišići koje imaju nalaze im se u vilicama, od neprekidnog žvakanja gume.	“There are blond robots with pink rubber bodies, real, but somehow unreal, alive but somehow automatic in all responses, living in caves all of their lives. Their derrières are incredible in girth. Their eyes are fixed and motionless from an endless time of staring at picture screens. The only muscles they have occur in their jaws from their ceaseless chewing of gum.
I nije samo stvar u njima, moja draga Tajla, već u čitavoj civilizaciji u koju smo bačeni kao lopata semenja u veliku mešalicu za beton. Niko od nas preživeti neće. Neće nas poubijati puškom, već ljubaznom rukom. Neće nas uništiti raketa, već automobil..."	“And it is not only these, my dear Tylla, but the entire civilization into which we have been dropped like a shovelful of seeds into a large concrete mixer. Nothing of us will survive. We will be killed not by the gun but by the glad-hand. We will be destroyed not by the rocket but by the automobile . . .”
Neko vrisnu. Tresak, pa opet tresak. Tišina.	Somebody screamed. A crash, another crash. Silence.
Etil skoči i ostavi pismo. Tamo, na ulici, sudarila su se dva automobila. Jedan pun Marsovaca, drugi sa Zemljanima. Etil se vrati pismu:	Ettil leaped up from his letter. Outside, on the street two ears had crashed. One full of Martians, another with Earthmen. Ettil returned to his letter:
"Draga, draga Tajla, da ti dam nekoliko statističkih podataka ako dozvoljavaš. Svake godine na ovom američkom kontinentu gine četrdeset pet hiljada ljudi; budu zdruzgani u pihtije u automobilu kao u konzervi. U krvavo crvenu kašu, sa belim šupljim kostima kao iznenadnim mislima, smešnim mislima strave, probodenim kroz jednoličnu nepromenjivu žitku masu. Kola se izuvijaju i sabiju kao sardine u kutijama - onako sa sve pihtijama, i sve bez glasa.	“Dear, dear Tylla, a few statistics if you will allow. Forty-five thousand people killed every year on this continent of America; made into jelly right in the can, as it were, in the automobiles. Red blood jelly, with white marrow bones like sudden thoughts, ridiculous horror thoughts, transfixed in the immutable jelly. The cars roll up in tight neat sardine rolls—all sauce, all silence.
Svuda po autoputevima gomile krvavog đubriva za zelene letnje muve zunzare. Od iznenadnog kočenja lica im se pretvaraju u maske što ga meću na Dan svih svetih. Svi sveti su jedan od njihovih praznika. Mislim da te večeri slave automobil - nešto u vezi sa smrću, u svakom slučaju.	“Blood manure for green buzzing summer flies, all over the highways. Faces made into Halloween masks by sudden stops. Halloween is one of their holidays. I think they worship the automobile on that night—something to do with death, anyway.
Pogledaš kroz prozor i vidiš dvoje ljudi koji se do tog trenutka nikada nisu videli kako mrtvi leže jedno preko drugoga, kao prijatelji. Predviđam da će naša vojska biti smrvljena, zahvaćena boleštinom, pohvatana po bioskopima u zamke od veštica i gume. Sutra u neko doba pokušaću da pobegnem natrag na Mars dok ne bude i suviše kasno.	“You look out your window and see two people lying atop each other in friendly fashion who, a moment ago, had never met before, dead. I foresee our army mashed, diseased, trapped in cinemas by witches and gum. Sometime in the next day I shall try to escape back to Mars before it is too late.
Negde na Zemlji noćas, moja Tajla, nalazi se jedan Čovek sa Polugom kojom će, kada je povuče, Spasti Svet. Čovek je sada van pogona. Prekidač mu skuplja prašinu. On sam igra karte.	“Somewhere on Earth tonight, my Tylla, there is a Man with a Lever, which, when he pulls it, Will Save the World. The man is now unemployed. His switch gathers dust. He himself plays pinochle.

Žene ove zle planete dave nas poplavom banalne sentimentalnosti, romantičnih osećanja upravljenih na pogrešno mesto, i poslednjim trzajima pre nego što ih proizvođači glicerina skuvaju u cilju upotrebe. Laku noć, Tajla. Poželi mi dobro, jer ću verovatno poginuti u pokušaju da pobegnem. Šaljem svoju ljubav našem detetu."	“The women of this evil planet are drowning us in a tide of banal sentimentality, misplaced romance, and one last fling before the makers of glycerin boil them down for usage. Good night, Tylla. Wish me well, for I shall probably die trying to escape. My love to our child.”
Nečujno plačući, presavi pismo i podseti se da ga kasnije pošalje raketnom poštom.	Weeping silently, he folded the letter and reminded himself to mail it later at the rocket post.
Izađe iz parka. Šta se moglo učiniti? Pobeći? Ali kako? Vratiti se na položaj kasno noćas, ukrasti sam jednu od raketa i vratiti se na Mars? Da li bi to bilo moguće? Odmahnu glavom. Bio je i suviše pometen.	He left the park. What was there to do? Escape? But how? Return to the post late tonight, steal one of the rockets alone and go back to Mars? Would it be possible? He shook his head. He was much too confused.
Jedino što je stvarno znao bilo je to da će, ako ostane ovde, uskoro biti svojina mnogih stvari koje zuje, frkću i šište, koje puštaju pare i smradove. Za šest meseci biće vlasnik jednog velikog ružičastog, odnegovanog čira u stomaku, krvnog pritiska algebarskih razmera, miopije na granici slepila, i noćnih mora dubokih kao okeani, sa nemoguće dugim snovima zapletenim poput creva, kroz koje silom mora da se probija svake noći. Ne, ne.	All that he really knew was that if he stayed here he would soon be the property of a lot of things that buzzed and snorted and hissed, that gave off fumes or stenches. In six months he would be the owner of a large pink, trained ulcer, a blood pressure of algebraic dimensions, a myopia this side of blindness, and nightmares as deep as oceans and infested with improbable lengths of dream intestines through which he must violently force his way each night. No, no.
Gledao je opsednuta lica Zemljana kako besno promiču u svojim mehaničkim smrtonosnim kutijama. Uskoro - da, vrlo skoro izumeće auto sa šest srebrnih ručki!	He looked at the haunted faces of the Earthmen drifting violently along in their mechanical death boxes. Soon—yes, very soon—they would invent an auto with six silver handles on it!
"Hej, ti!"	“Hey, there!”
Sirena automobila. Uz ivičnjak se zaustaviše velika, dugačka, kao mrtvačka kola, crna i zlokobna. Jedan čovek se proturi napolje.	An auto horn. A large long hearse of a car, black and ominous pulled to the curb. A man leaned out.
"Jesi ti Marsovac?"	“You a Martian?”
"Da."	“Yes.”
"Baš takvog tražim? Uskači brzo - ovo ti je životna šansa. Uskači. Vodim te u jedan mnogo fini pajzl gde možemo da razgovaramo. Hajde - što stojiš tu."	“Just the man I gotta see. Hop in quick—the chance of a lifetime. Hop in. Take you to a real nice joint where we can talk. Come on—don’t stand there.”
Kao hipnotisan, Etil otvori vrata od kola, uđe.	As if hypnotized, Ettil opened the door of the car, got in.
Odvezoše se.	They drove off.
"Šta ćeš da popiješ, E. V.? Šta kažeš na jedan manhatan? Kelner, dva manhatana. Okej, E. V. To ja častim. Ja i Veliki studiji! Ne vataj se za novčanik. Drago mi je da se upoznam s tobom. E. V. Ja se zovem R. R. Van Plank. Možda si čuo za mene? Ne? E pa, u svakom slučaju, evo ti ruka."	“What’ll it be, E.V.? How about a manhattan? Two manhattans, waiter. Okay, E.V. This is my treat. This is on me and Big Studios! Don’t even touch your wallet. Pleased to meet you, E.V. My name’s R. R. Van Plank. Maybe you hearda me? No? Well, shake anyhow.”
Etil oseti kako mu ruka bi protrljana i puštena. Bili su u jednoj mračnoj rupi sa muzikom i kelnerima koji su promicali unaokolo. Doneše im dva pića. Sve se to događalo tako brzo. Sada je Van Plank, sa rukama prekrštenim na grudima, posmatrao svoje marsovsko otkriće.	Ettil felt his hand massaged and dropped. They were in a dark hole with music and waiters drifting about. Two drinks were set down. It had all happened so swiftly. Now Van Plank, hands crossed on his chest, was surveying his Martian discovery.
"Evo za šta si ti meni potreban, E. V. To je najveća ideja na koju sam došao u životu. Ne znam kako mi je došla, prosto mi sinula. Sedim večeras kod kuće pa razmišljam 'Moj Bože, što bi to bio film! Invazija Marsa na Zemlju. I šta onda moram da uradim? Moram da nađem savetnika za film.' Tako skočim u kola i nađem tebe, i evo nas ovde. Ispij! Za tvoje zdravlje i našu budućnost. Skol!"	“What I want you for, E.V., is this. It’s the most magnanimous idea I ever got in my life. I don’t know how it came to me, just in a flash. I was sitting home tonight and I thought to myself, My God, what a picture it would make!Invasion of Earth by Mars. So what I got to do? I got to find an adviser for the film. So I climbed in my car and found you and here we are. Drink up! Here’s to your health and our future. Skoal!”
"Ali..." reče Etil.	“But——” said Ettil.
"Znam, tražićeš pare. Pa, toga imamo puno. Uostalom, imam jednu crnu knjižicu sa breskvama, Čekovi boje breskve; prim. prev. pa mogu da ti pozajmim."	“Now, I know, you’ll want money. Well, we got plenty of that. Besides, I got a li’l black book full of peaches I can lend you.”
"Vaše voće na Zemlji uglavnom mi se ne dopada i..."	“I don’t like most of your Earth fruit and——”
"Ti si neki čudak, stvarno. E pa, evo kako sam ja to zamislio - slušaj." Uzbuđeno se naže napred. "Imamo jednu jarku scenu sa Marsovcima na velikom zboru, udaraju doboši, krkljanac na Marsu. U pozadini ogromni srebrnasti gradovi..."	“You’re a card, mac, really. Well, here’s how I get the picture in my mind—listen.” He leaned forward excitedly. “We got a flash scene of the Martians at a big powwow, drummin’ drums, gettin’ stewed on Mars. In the background are huge silver cities——”
"Ali marsovski gradovi nisu takvi..."	“But that’s not the way Martian cities are——”
"Moramo imati boju, momče. Boju. Pusti da to tatica sredi. U svakom slučaju, svi Marsovci izvode jednu igru oko vatre..."	“We got to have color, kid. Color. Let your pappy fix this. Anyway, there are all the Martians doing a dance around a fire——”
"Mi ne igramo oko vatre..."	“We don’t dance around fires——”
"U ovom filmu imate vatru i igrate", izjavi Van Plank zatvorenih očiju, ponoseći se svojom sigurnošću. Klimao je glavom, ponovo jezikom dočaravajući scenu. "Zatim jedna krasna Marsovka, visoka i plava."	“In this film you got a fire and you dance,” declared Van Plank, eyes shut, proud of his certainty. He nodded, dreaming it over on his tongue. “Then we got a beautiful Martian woman, tall and blond.”
"Marsovske žene su crne..."	“Martian women are dark——”
"Slušaj, ne vidim kako ćemo se sporazumeti, E.V. Uzgred rečeno, sinko, treba da promeniš ime. Kako se ono zvaše?"	“Look, I don’t see how we’re going to be happy, E.V. By the way, son, you ought to change your name. What was it again?”
"Etil."	“Ettil.”
"To je žensko ime. Daću ti ja bolje. Zvaćemo te Džo. Okej, Džo. Ko što sam reko, naše Marsovke ima da budu plavuše, zbog zašto, vidiš, zbog zato. Inače tatica će da ti se ražalosti. Imaš neki predlog?"	“That’s a woman’s name. I’ll give you a better one. Call you Joe. Okay, Joe. As I was saying, our Martian women are gonna be blond, because, see, just because. Or else your poppa won’t be happy. You got any suggestions?”
"Mislio sam da..."	“I thought that——”
"I još jednu stvar moramo da imamo, a to je scena, jako plačna, kad Marsovka spasava od smrti čitav brod sa Marsovcima kada ga udari meteor ili tako nešto. To ima da bude urnebes od scene. Znaš da mi je drago što sam te pronašao, Džo. Dobro ćeš se provoditi sa nama, kažem ti."	“And another thing we gotta have is a scene, very tearful, where the Martian woman saves the whole ship of Martian men from dying when a meteor or something hits the ship. That’ll make a whackeroo of a scene. You know, I’m glad I found you, Joe. You’re going to have a good deal with us, I tell you.”
Etil ispruži ruku i stisnu čoveka za ručni zglob. "Trenutak samo. Hoću nešto da te pitam."	Ettil reached out and held the man’s wrist tight. “Just a minute. There’s something I want to ask you.”

"Sigurno, Džo, gukni samo."	“Sure, Joe, shoot.”
"Zašto ste tako ljubazni prema nama? Mi vam osvajamo planetu, a vi nas dočekujete dobrodošlicom - sve nas - kao davno nestalu decu. Zašto?"	“Why are you being so nice to us? We invade your planet, and you welcome us—everybody—like long-lost children. Why?”
"Oni na Marsu sigurno još ima da rastu, je l' tako? Ti si neki naivan tip - vidim ja to odavde. Miko, gledaj ti to na ovaj način. Svi smo mi Mali ljudi, je l' tako?" Odmahnu malom preplanulom šakom načičkanom smaragdima.	“They sure grow ’em green on Mars, don’t they? You’re a naïve-type guy—I can see from way over here. Mac, look at it this way. We’re all Little People, ain’t we?” He waved a small tan hand garnished with emeralds.
"Svi smo mi obična govna, zar ne? E pa, ovde na Zemlji, mi se time ponosimo. Ovo je vek Običnog čoveka, Bile, i mi smo ponosni zato što smo mali. Bili, ti gledaš u planetu punu Sarojana. Jeste, gospodine. Veliku debelu porodicu prijateljskih Sarojana - svako voli svakog. Shvatamo mi vas, Marsovce, Džo, i znamo zašto ste izvršili invaziju na Zemlju. Znamo kako ste bili usamljeni gore na toj hladnoj planetici Marsu, kako ste nam zavideli na našim gradovima..."	“We’re all common as dirt, ain’t we? Well, here on Earth, we’re proud of that. This is the century of the Common Man, Bill, and we’re proud we’re small. Billy, you’re looking at a planet full of Saroyans. Yes, sir. A great big fat family of friendly Saroyans—everybody loving everybody. We understand you Martians, Joe, and we know why you invaded Earth. We know how lonely you were up on that little cold planet Mars, how you envied us our cities——”
"Naša civilizacija je mnogo starija od vaše..."	“Our civilization is much older than yours——”
"Molim te, Džo, jediš me kad mi upadaš u reč. Pusti me da završim sa svojom teorijom pa posle pričaj što god hoćeš. Ko što sam rek'o, tamo gore ste bili usamljeni, pa ste sišli da vidite naše gradove i naše žene i sve, i mi smo vas dočekali dobrodošlicom ovde, zato što ste vi naša braća, Obični ljudi kao i svi mi.	“Please, Joe, you make me unhappy when you interrupt. Let me finish my theory and then you talk all you want. As I was saying, you was lonely up there, and down you came to see our cities and our women and all, and we welcomed you in, because you’re our brothers, Common Men like all of us.
A zatim, što ti je kao neki nuzprodukt, Rosko, od ove invazije ima da se izvuče i izvestan mali profit. Mislim na primer na ovaj film koji ja planiram, kojim ćemo uloviti, čisto, milijardu dolara, mogu da se kladim. Iduće nedelje počećemo da izbacujemo na tržište specijalnu marsovsku lutku, po trijes dolara komad. Pomisli koliki su to milioni. Imam takođe i ugovor da napravim jednu marsovsku društvenu igru po pet dolara prodajne cena. Ima tu svih mogućih udica."	“And then, as a kind of side incident, Roscoe, there’s a certain little small profit to be had from this invasion. I mean for instance this picture I plan, which will net us, neat, a billion dollars, I bet. Next week we start putting out a special Martian doll at thirty bucks a throw. Think of the millions there. I also got a contract to make a Martian game to sell for five bucks. There’s all sorts of angles.”
"Shvatam", reče Etil, povlačeći se.	“I see,” said Ettil, drawing back.
"Pa onda, naravno, ima čitavo to lepo novo tržište. Pomisli na sve one depilatore i gume i paste za obuću koje možemo da isprodajemo vama Marsovcima."	“And then of course there’s that whole nice new market. Think of all the depilatories and gum and shoeshine we can sell to you Martians.”
"Čekaj. Još jedno pitanje."	“Wait. Another question.”
"Kazuj."	“Shoot.”
"Kako ti je ime? Šta znači to R.R.?"	“What’s your first name? What’s the R.R. stand for?”
"Ričard Robert."	“Richard Robert.”
Etil pogleda u tavanicu. "Da li te ponekad, možda, u nekoj prilici, tu i tamo, slučajno zovu Rik?"	Ettil looked at the ceiling. “Do they sometimes, perhaps, on occasion, once in a while, by accident, call you—Rick?”
"Kako si pogodio, Miko? Jasno, Rik."	“How’d you guess, mac? Rick, sure.”
Etil uzdahnu i stade da se smeje i smeje. Ispruži ruku. "Znači, ti si Rik? Rik! Znači, ti si Rik!"	Ettil sighed and began to laugh and laugh. He put out his hand. “So you’re Rick? Rick! So you’re Rick!”
"U čemu je caka, smešljivko? Kaži ćalcu da se smeje!"	“What’s the joke, laughing boy? Let Poppa in!”
"Ne bi shvatio - jedna lična caka. Ha, ha!" Suze su mu se slivale niz lice u otvorena usta. Nije prestajao da udara po stolu. "Znači ti si Rik. Oh, koliko je to drugačije, koliko je smešno. Nema napetih mišića, nema mršave tvrde vilice, nigde puške. Samo novčanik pun novca i smaragdni prsten, i stomačina!"	“You wouldn’t understand—a private joke. Ha, ha!” Tears ran down his cheeks and into his open mouth. He pounded the table again and again. “So you’re Rick. Oh, how different, how funny. No bulging muscles, no lean jaw, no gun. Only a wallet full of money and an emerald ring and a big middle!”
"Ej, pazi kako se izražavaš. Ja možda nisam Apolon, ali..."	“Hey, watch the language! I may not be no Apollo, but——”
"Daj ruku, Rik. Želeo sam da se upoznam s tobom. Ti si čovek koji će pokoriti Mars sa mućkalicama za koktel i ulošcima za cipele, čipovima za poker i kožnim čizmama, kariranim kapama i rumom."	“Shake hands, Rick. I’ve wanted to meet you. You’re the man who’ll conquer Mars, with cocktail shakers and foot arches and poker chips and riding crops and leather boots and checkered caps and rum collinses.”
"Ja sam samo skroman poslovan čovek", reče Van Plank, stidljivo obarajući oči. "Radim svoj posao i uzimam svoj skromni delić para. Ali, kao što rekoh, Morte, razmišljam o tržištu na Marsu za Čika Vigilijeve igre i crtaće Dika Trejsija; sve novo. Široko područje koje nikada nije ni čulo za crtani film, je l' tako? Tako! Tako samo bacimo Marsovcima na glavu jednu veliku hrpu svega toga. Ima da se tuku za to, dete, da se tuku! Ko ne bi, za parfeme i haljine iz Pariza, a? I za lepe nove cipele..."	“I’m only a humble businessman,” said Van Plank, eyes slyly down. “I do my work and take my humble little piece of money pie. But, as I was saying, Mort, I been thinking of the market on Mars for Uncle Wiggily games and Dick Tracy comics; all new. A big wide field never even heard of cartoons, right? Right! So we just toss a great big bunch of stuff on the Martians’ heads. They’ll fight for it, kid, fight! Who wouldn’t, for perfumes and Paris dresses and Oshkosh overalls, eh? And nice new shoes——”
"Mi ne nosimo cipele."	“We don’t wear shoes.”
"Šta ja to imam ovde?" uputi R.R. pitanje tavanici. "Planetu punu zvrndova? Slušaj, Džo, mi ćemo se postarati za to. Nateraćemo svakoga da nosi cipele da ga ne bi bilo sramota. A onda im prodajemo imalin!"	“What have I got here?” R.R. asked of the ceiling. “A planet full of Okies? Look, Joe, we’ll take care of that. We’ll shame everyone into wearing shoes. Then we sell them the polish!”
"Oh."	“Oh.”
On pljesnu Etila po ruci. "Jesmo li se pogodili? 'Oćeš li da budeš tehnički direktor u mom filmu? Dobićeš dve stotine nedeljno kao start, i pet stotina odozgo. Šta kažeš?"	He slapped Ettil’s. arm. “Is it a deal? Will you be technical director on my film? You’ll get two hundred a week to start, a five-hundred top. What you say?”
"Pripala mi muka", reče Etil. Bio je popio manhatan, i sada je modreo.	“I’m sick,” said Ettil. He had drunk the manhattan and was now turning blue.
"Čuj, žao mi je. Nisam znao da će to tako da deluje na tebe. Hajdemo malo na svež vazduh."	“Say, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would do that to you. Let’s get some fresh air.”
Na vazduhu Etilu bi lakše. Klatio se. "Znači zato nas je Zemlja primila?"	In the open air Ettil felt better. He swayed. “So that’s why Earth took us in?”
"Jasno, sinko. Kad god Zemljanin može da obrne pošten dolar, samo ga gledaj kako se puši. Mušterija je uvek u pravu. Nema da se ljutimo. Evo ti moja podsetnica. Budi u studiju u Holivudu sutra ujutru u devet sati. To je propis."	“Sure, son. Any time an Earthman can turn an honest dollar, watch him steam. The customer is always right. No hard feelings. Here’s my card. Be at the studio in Hollywood tomorrow morning at nine o’clock. They’ll show you your office. I’ll arrive at eleven and see you then. Be sure you get there at nine o’clock. It’s a strict rule.”
"Zašto?"	“Why?”

"Galageru, čudna si ti ptica, ali ja te volim. Laku noć. Srećna invazija!"	“Gallagher, you’re a queer oyster, but I love you. Good night. Happy invasion!”
Kola odoše.	The car drove off.
Etil je žmirkao za njima, u neverici. Zatim, trljajući čelo dlanom, lagano pođe ulicom prema raketnom pristaništu.	Ettil blinked after it, incredulous. Then, rubbing his brow with the palm of his hand, he walked slowly along the street toward the rocket port.
"Pa, šta ćeš učiniti?" glasno se zapita. Rakete su se sjajile na mesečini, neme. Iz grada je dopirala buka udaljenog lumpovanja. U ambulanti, ukazivali su pomoć u jednom ekstremnom slučaju nervnog sloma: mladom Marsovcu koji je, sudeći po vriskovima, i suviše mnogo video, i suviše mnogo pio, čuo i suviše mnogo pesama sa malih crveno-žutih kutija po kućama gde se pilo, i koga je neka velika krupna žena nalik na slona jurila oko bezbrojnih stolova. Stalno je mrmljao:	“Well, what are you going to do?” he asked himself, aloud. The rockets lay gleaming in the moonlight silent. From the city came the sounds of distant revelry. In the medical compound an extreme case of nervous breakdown was being tended to: a young Martian who, by his screams, had seen too much, drunk too much, heard too many songs on the little red-and-yellow boxes in the drinking places, and had been chased around innumerable tables by a large elephant-like woman. He kept murmuring:
"Ne mogu da dišem... smrvljen sam, uhvaćen."	“Can’t breathe . . . crushed, trapped.”
Jecanje se stišavalo. Etil izađe iz senki i nastavi preko jedne široke ulice u pravcu brodova. Preko u daljini, video je stražare kako pijano leže unaokolo. Oslušnu. Iz velikog grada čuli su se slabi zvuci kola i muzike, i sirena. A on je zamišljao i druge zvuke: podmuklo drčanje mašina za pivo dok mešaju malc kojim će ugojiti i olenjiti ratnike, naterati ih na zaboravnost, narkotične glasove bioskopskih rupa koje uljuljkuju i uljuljkuju Marsovce brzo-brzo u san kroz koji će ostatak života hodati kao mesečari.	The sobbing faded. Ettil came out of the shadows and moved on across a wide avenue toward the ships. Far over, he could see the guards lying about drunkenly. He listened. From the vast city came the faint sounds of cars and music and sirens. And he imagined other sounds too: the insidious whir of malt machines stirring malts to fatten the warriors and make them lazy and forgetful, the narcotic voices of the cinema caverns lulling and lulling the Martians fast, fast into a slumber through which, all of their remaining lives, they would sleepwalk.
Od sada pa za godinu dana, koliko će Marsovaca umreti od ciroze jetre, od obolelih bubrega, visokog krvnog pritiska, koliko njih će izvršiti samoubistvo?	A year from now, how many Martians dead of cirrhosis of the liver, bad kidneys, high blood pressure, suicide?
Stajao je nasred prazne ulice. Na dva bloka odatle, jedna kola jurnuše prema njemu.	He stood in the middle of the empty avenue. Two blocks away a car was rushing toward him.
Mogao je da bira: da ostane tu, zaposli se u studiju, javlja se svakog jutra na posao kao savetnik na filmu, i, vremenom se složi sa producentom da, jest, zaista, na marsu ima pokolja; da, žene su visoke i plave; da, igraju se plemenske igre i prinose žrtve; da, da, da; ili da pređe preko, uđe u raketni brod i vrati se na Mars, sam.	He had a choice: stay here, take the studio job, report for work each morning as adviser on a picture, and, in time, come to agree with the producer that, yes indeed, there were massacres on Mars; yes, the women were tall and blond; yes, there were tribal dances and sacrifices; yes, yes, yes. Or he could walk over and get into a rocket ship and, alone, return to Mars.
"Ali iduće godine?" reče on.	“But what about next year?” he said.
Na Mars stigao Bar Plavi kanal. Kockarnica Stari grad ugrađena pravo unutra. Da, tačno usred Pravog Marsovskog Starog grada! Neonske reklame po starim gradovima teferiči po grobljima predaka sve to, sve to.	The Blue Canal Night Club brought to Mars. The Ancient City Gambling Casino, Built Right Inside. Yes, Right Inside a Real Martian Ancient City! Neons, racing forms blowing in the old cities, picnic lunches in the ancestral graveyards—all of it, all of it.
Ali ipak to još neće biti. Za nekoliko dana mogao bi da bude kod kuće. Tajla će ga čekati sa njihovim sinom, i onda bi, poslednjih nekoliko godina mirnog života mogao da sedi sa svojom ženom po vetrovitom vremenu uz kanal i da čita svoje dobre, plemenite knjige, da srkuću retko i lagano vino, pričaju i iživljavaju svoje kratko vreme sve dok se neonska pometnja ne sruči sa neba.	But not quite yet. In a few days he could be home. Tylla would be waiting with their son, and then for the last few years of gentle life he might sit with his wife in the blowing weather on the edge of the canal reading his good, gentle books, sipping a rare and light wine, talking and living out their short time until the neon bewilderment fell from the sky.
Onda bi možda on i Tajla mogli da se presele u plave planine i sakriju još godinu-dve dok ne dođu turisti da škljocaju fotoaparatima i govore kako je to čudno.	And then perhaps he and Tylla might move into the blue mountains and hide for another year or two until the tourists came to snap their cameras and say how quaint things were.
Tačno je znao šta bi rekao Tajli. "Rat je gadna stvar, ali mir može da bude strava živa."	He knew just what he would say to Tylla. “War is a bad thing, but peace can be a living horror.”
Stajao je na sredini široke ulice.	He stood in the middle of the wide avenue.
Kada se okrenuo, nije ga iznenadio automobil ustremljen na njega, auto pun dece koja su vrištala. Dečaci i devojčice, nijedno starije od šesnaest godina, vrludali su ulicom u automobilu sa otvorenim krovom. Video je kako pokazuju rukom na njega i deru se. Čuo je kako motor glasnije zaurla. Kola pojuriše brzinom od šezdeset milja na sat.	Turning, it was with no surprise that he saw a car bearing down upon him, a car full of screaming children. These boys and girls, none older than sixteen, were swerving and ricocheting their open-top car down the avenue. He saw them point at him and yell. He heard the motor roar louder. The car sped forward at sixty miles an hour.
On poče da trči.	He began to run.
Da, da, umorno pomisli dok su kola prelazila preko njega, kako je to čudno, kako tužno. Po zvuku toliko liči... na mešalicu za beton.	Yes, yes, he thought tiredly, with the car upon him, how strange, how sad. It sounds so much like . . . a concrete mixer.

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