TETOVIRANI ČOVEK

VATRENI BALONI

VATRENI BALONI	The Fire Balloons
Vatra je praskala nad travnjacima letnje noći. Po licima čika i tetaka varnice. Rakete se dizale i padale u uzdignutim blistavim smeđim očima rođaka na tremu, a hladni ugljenisani komadi tupo su udarali o tle na sasušenim poljanama u daljini.	FIRE exploded over summer night lawns. You saw sparkling faces of uncles and aunts. Skyrockets fell up in the brown shining eyes of cousins on the porch, and the cold charred sticks thumped down in dry meadows far away.
Vrlo poštovani Otac Džozef Daniel Perigrin otvori oči. Kakav san: on i njegovi rođaci u onoj divljoj igri u staroj kući njegovog dede u Ohaju pre toliko godina!	The Very Reverend Father Joseph Daniel Peregrine opened his eyes. What a dream: he and his cousins with their fiery play at his grandfather’s ancient Ohio home so many years ago!
Ležao je osluškujući veliku prazninu crkve, ostale ćelije gde su ležali drugi Očevi. Jesu li i oni, uoči leta rakete Raspeće, ležali sećajući se Četvrtog jula? Da. Ovo je bilo kao u ona uzbuđena svitanja u dane Nezavisnosti kada si čekao prvi udar od eksplozije i izletao na rosom pokrivene trotoare sa rukama punim svakakvih čegrtaljki.	He lay listening to the great hollow of the church, the other cells where other Fathers lay. Had they, too, on the eve of the flight of the rocket Crucifix, lain with memories of the Fourth of July? Yes. This was like those breathless Independence dawns when you waited for the first concussion and rushed out on the dewy sidewalks, your hands full of loud miracles.
I evo sada Očeve Episkopije, u osvit dana pre nego što će se na vatrenom mlazu vinuti na Mars, ostavljajući tamjan za sobom kroz somotsku katedralu svemira.	So here they were, the Episcopal Fathers, in the breathing dawn before they pinwheeled off to Mars, leaving their incense through the velvet cathedral of space.
"Da li uopšte treba da idemo?" šaptao je Otac Perigrin. "Zar ne treba da rešavamo naše sopstvene grehe tu na Zemlji? Zar tako ne bežimo od svojih života ovde?"	“Should we go at all?” whispered Father Peregrine. “Shouldn’t we solve our own sins on Earth? Aren’t we running from our lives here?”
Podiže se, teško pokrećući mesnato telo koje je svojom obilnošću podsećalo na jagode, mleko, i odrezak.	He arose, his fleshy body, with its rich look of strawberries, milk, and steak, moving heavily.
"Ili je to lenjost?" zapita se. "Plašim li se ja puta?"	“Or is it sloth?” he wondered. “Do I dread the journey?”
Uđe pod tuš sa igličastim mlazevima.	He stepped into the needle-spray shower.
"Ali odvešću ja tebe na Mars, telo." Obrati se sam sebi. "Ostavićemo ovde stare grehe. Pa na Mars, da nađemo nove?" Divna pomisao, gotovo tako. Gresi koji nikada nikome nisu pali na pamet. Pa da, on lično je napisao jednu knjižicu: Problem greha na drugim svetovima, koju su njegova Episkopska braća ignorisala kao nekako nedovoljno ozbiljnu.	“But I shall take you to Mars, body.” He addressed himself. “Leaving old sins here. And on to Mars to find new sins?” A delightful thought almost. Sins no one had ever thought of. Oh, he himself had written a little book: The Problem of Sin on Other Worlds, ignored as somehow not serious enough by his Episcopal brethren.
Tek prošle večeri, kada su pušili poslednju cigaru, on i Otac Stoun su razgovarali o njoj.	Only last night, over a final cigar, he and Father Stone had talked of it.
"Na Marsu, greh bi se mogao pojaviti kao vrlina. Moramo se tamo čuvati od pravednih dela za koja bi se kasnije moglo ustanoviti da su gresi!" reče Otac Perigrin, sijajući. "Što je to uzbudljivo! Već vekovima misionarstvo nije bilo povezano sa toliko avanture!"	“On Mars sin might appear as virtue. We must guard against virtuous acts there that, later, might be found to be sins!” said Father Peregrine, beaming. “How exciting! It’s been centuries since so much adventure has accompanied the prospect of being a missionary!”
"Ja ću prepoznati greh", reče bez uvijanja Otac Stoun, "čak i na Marsu."	“I will recognize sin,” said Father Stone bluntly, “even on Mars.”
"Oh, mi sveštenici se ponosimo što smo lakmus papir koji menja boju u prisustvu greha", odvrati Otac Perigrin, "ali šta ako je marsovska hemija takva da se mi uopšte ne obojimo! Ako na Marsu ima novih čula, moraš priznati mogućnost postojanja neprepoznatljivog greha."	“Oh, we priests pride ourselves on being litmus paper, changing color in sin’s presence,” retorted Father Peregrine, “but what if Martian chemistry is such we do not color at all! If there are new senses on Mars, you must admit the possibility of unrecognizable sin.”
"Ako nema zlobnog predumišljaja, nema greha niti kazne za isti - Gospod nas uverava u to", odgovori Otac Stoun.	“If there is no malice aforethought, there is no sin or punishment for same—the Lord assures us that,” Father Stone replied.
"Na Zemlji, da. Ali možda marsovski greh obaveštava podsvesno o svom zlu, telepatski, ostavljajući svesnom umu slobodu da dela po svom nahođenju, naizgled bez zlobe! Šta onda?"	“On Earth, yes. But perhaps a Martian sin might inform the subconscious of its evil, telepathically, leaving the conscious mind of man free to act, seemingly without malice! What then?”
Otac Perigrin se naže napred svom težinom. "Adam sam nije grešio. Dodaj Evu i dodao si iskušenje. Dodaj drugog muškarca i omogućuješ preljubu. Dodavanjem seksa ili ljudi dodaješ greh. Kada bi ljudi bili bez ruku, ne bi mogli daviti svojim rukama. Ne bi imao upravo taj greh ubistva. Dodaj ruke, dodao si mogućnost jednog novog nasilja. Amebe ne mogu da greše zato što se razmnožavaju deobom. One ne žude za ženama niti se ubijaju međusobno. Dodaj amebama seks, dodaj ruke i noge, i imaćeš ubistvo i preljubu. Dodaj ruku ili nogu ili ličnost, ili oduzmi svako od njih, sabiraš ili oduzimaš moguće zlo. Na Marsu, šta ako ima pet novih čula, organa, nevidljivih udova koje ne možemo ni da zamislimo - zar ne bi onda moglo da bude pet novih grehova?"	“What could there be in the way of new sins?” Father Peregrine leaned heavily forward. “Adam alone did not sin. Add Eve and you add temptation. Add a second man and you make adultery possible. With the addition of sex or people, you add sin. If men were armless they could not strangle with their hands. You would not have that particular sin of murder. Add arms, and you add the possibility of a new violence. Amoebas cannot sin because they reproduce by fission. They do not covet wives or murder each other. Add sex to amoebas, add arms and legs, and you would have murder and adultery. Add an arm or leg or person, or take away each, and you add or subtract possible evil. On Mars, what if there are five new senses, organs, invisible limbs we can’t conceive of—then mightn’t there be five new sins?”
Otac Stoun zinu. "Ja mislim da ti uživaš u ovakvim stvarima!"	Father Stone gasped. “I think you enjoy this sort of thing!”
"Održavam razum u životu, Oče; samo da bude živ, to je sve."	“I keep my mind alive, Father; just alive, is all.”
"Ti večito žongliraš mozgom, zar ne? - ogledala, baklje, tanjiri."	“Your mind’s always juggling, isn’t it?—mirrors, torches, plates.”
"Da. Zato što ponekad Crkva izgleda kao oni postavljeni cirkuski podijumi gde se diže zavesa i ljudi, bele statue posute cinkoksidom, talkom, zamrzavaju se da bi predstavili apstraktnu Lepotu. Vrlo krasno. Ali ja se nadam da će za mene uvek biti mesta da se muvam među statuama, šta ti misliš, Oče Stoun?"	“Yes. Because sometimes the Church seems like those posed circus tableaus where the curtain lifts and men, white, zinc-oxide, talcum-powder statues, freeze to represent abstract Beauty. Very wonderful. But I hope there will always be room for me to dart about among the statues, don’t you, Father Stone?”
Otac Stoun je već krenuo. "Mislim da je bolje da pođemo na spavanje. Kroz nekoliko časova skoknućemo gore da upoznamo tvoje nove grehe, Oče Perigrine."	Father Stone had moved away. “I think we’d better go to bed. In a few hours we’ll be jumping up to see your new sins, Father Peregrine.”
Raketa je stajala spremna za ispaljivanje.	The rocket stood ready for the firing.
Očevi su prekinuli svoje molitve u studeno jutro, mnogi dobar sveštenik iz Njujorka, Čikaga ili Los Andelesa, Crkva je slala najbolje - krenuo je gradom ka polju pokrivenom slanom. Hodajući, Otac Perigrin sećao se Biskupovih reči:	The Fathers walked from their devotions in the chilly morning, many a fine priest from New York or Chicago or Los Angeles—the Church was sending its best—walking across town to the frosty field. Walking, Father Peregrine remembered the Bishop’s words:
"Oče Perigrine, vi ćete predvoditi misionare, uz vas će biti Otac Stoun. Za žaljenje je koliko su mračni moji razlozi da vas odaberem za ovaj ozbiljni zadatak, Oče, ali vaša knjižica o planetarnom grehu nije prošla nepročitana. Vi ste elastičan čovek. A Mars je kao nečišćena odaja koju zanemarujemo već milenijumima. Tamo se nakupilo greha kao pleve. Mars je dva puta stariji od Zemlje i imao je dva puta veći broj subota uveče, kupanja u alkoholu, i buljenja u žene gole kao od majke rođene. Kad otvorimo vrata od te sobice, krš ima da se sruči na nas. Treba nam brz, elastičan čovek - čovek koji može da izvrda glavom. Svaki malo više dogmatičan bi mogao nastradati. Mislim da ćete vi biti savitljivi i otporni. Oče, zadatak je vaš." Biskup i Očevi kleknuše.	“Father Peregrine, you will captain the missionaries, with Father Stone at your side. Having chosen you for this serious task, I find my reasons deplorably obscure, Father, but your pamphlet on planetary sin did not go unread. You are a flexible man. And Mars is like that uncleaned closet we have neglected for millenniums. Sin has collected there like bric-a-brac. Mars is twice Earth’s age and has had double the number of Saturday nights, liquor baths, and eye-poppings at women as naked as white seals. When we open that closet door, things will fall on us. We need a quick, flexible man—one whose mind can dodge. Anyone a little too dogmatic might break in two. I feel you’ll be resilient. Father, the job is yours.” The Bishop and the Fathers knelt.
Izrečen je blagoslov, a raketa poprskana svetom vodicom. Dižući se, Biskup im se obrati:	The blessing was said and the rocket given a little shower of holy water. Arising, the Bishop addressed them:
"Znam da ćete otići sa Gospodom, da pripremite Marsovce za prihvatanje njegove Istine. Svima vam želim misaoni put."	“I know you will go with God, to prepare the Martians for the reception of His Truth. I wish you all a thoughtful journey.”
Jedan po jedan prođoše kraj Biskupa, dvadesetorica ljudi, šušteći odorama, da bi u njegove milostive ruke stavili svoje pre nego što uđu u osvećen projektil.	They filed past the Bishop, twenty men, robes whispering, to deliver their hands into his kind hands before passing into the cleansed projectile.
"Mislim se", reče Otac Perigrin u poslednjem trenutku, "da nije Mars pakao? Samo čeka da mi stignemo pa da se rasprsne u sumpor i oganj."	“I wonder,” said Father Peregrine, at the last moment, “if Mars is hell? Only waiting for our arrival before it bursts into brimstone and fire.”

"Gospode, budi sa nama", reče Otac Stoun.	“Lord, be with us,” said Father Stone.
Raketa krenu.	The rocket moved.
Izlazak iz vasione bio je kao izlazak iz najlepše katedrale koju su ikada videli. Doticanje Marsa bilo je kao doticanje običnog trotoara, pred crkvom pet minuta pošto si zaista spoznao svoju Ijubav prema Bogu.	Coming out of space was like coming out of the most beautiful cathedral they had ever seen. Touching Mars was like touching the ordinary pavement outside the church five minutes after having really known your love for God.
Očevi oprezno kročiše iz rakete koja se pušila i klekoše na marsovski pesak dok je Otac Perigrin čitao molitvu zahvalnosti.	The Fathers stepped gingerly from the steaming rocket and knelt upon Martian sand while Father Peregrine gave thanks.
"Hvala Tebi, Gospode, za putovanje kroz odaje Tvoje. I, Gospode, stigosmo u jednu novu zemlju, zato moramo imati nove oči. Čućemo nove zvuke, i moraćemo imati nove uši. I biće tu novih grehova, za koje molimo da nam se podare bolja i čvršća, i čistija srca. Amin."	“Lord, we thank Thee for the journey through Thy rooms. And, Lord, we have reached a new land, so we must have new eyes. We shall hear new sounds and must needs have new ears. And there will he new sins, for which we ask the gift of better and firmer and purer hearts. Amen.”
Digoše se.	They arose.
I eto Marsa poput mora ispod koga se oni batrgaju u opremi podmorskih biologa i traže život. Evo teritorije skrivenog greha. Kako pažljivo moraju sada svi balansirati, kao percem, u ovom novom elementu, u strahu da bi i samo hodanje moglo biti grešno; ili disanje, ili jednostavan post!	And here was Mars like a sea under which they trudged in the guise of submarine biologists, seeking life. Here the territory of hidden sin. Oh, how carefully they must all balance, like gray feathers, in this new element, afraid that walkingitself might be sinful; or breathing, or simple fasting!
I evo načelnika Prvog grada, dočekuje ih sa ispruženom rukom. "Šta mogu da učinim za vas, Oče Perigrine?"	And here was the mayor of First Town come to meet them with outstretched hand. “What can I do for you, Father Peregrine?”
"Želeli bismo da saznamo nešto o Marsovcima. Jer našu crkvu možemo planirati inteligentno jedino ako ih poznajemo. Jesu li visoki dva metra? Napravićemo velika vrata. Da li im je koža plava, ili crvena ili zelena? To moramo znati da bismo mogli da stavimo pravu boju kože kada budemo postavljali ljudske figure u vitroima. Jesu li teški? Napravićemo im masivna sedišta."	“We’d like to know about the Martians. For only if we know about them can we plan our church intelligently. Are they ten feet tall? We will build large doors. Are their skins blue or red or green? We must know when we put human figures in the stained glass so we may use the right skin color. Are they heavy? We will build sturdy seats for them.”
"Oče", reče gradonačelnik, "mislim da ne treba da se brinete za Marsovce. Postoje dve rase. Jedna je gotovo mrtva. Jedan mali broj ih se skriva. A druga rasa - pa, ona nije baš sasvim ljudska."	“Father,” said the mayor, “I don’t think you should worry about the Martians. There are two races. One of them is pretty well dead. A few are in hiding. And the second race—well, they’re not quite human.”
"A?" Ocu Perigrinu brže zalupa srce.	“Oh?” Father Peregrine’s heart quickened.
"To su okrugle sjajne kugle svetlosti, Oče, žive u onim brdima. Da li su ljudi ili zveri, ko zna? Ali postupaju kao inteligentna bića, čujem." Gradonačelnik sleže ramenima. "Naravno, nisu ljudi, tako da mislim da vam neće biti do toga..."	“They’re round luminous globes of light, Father, living in those hills. Man or beast, who can say? But they act intelligently, I hear.” The mayor shrugged. “Of course, they’re not men, so I don’t think you’ll care—
"Baš naprotiv", reče brzo Otac Perigrin. "Imaju inteligenciju, kažete?"	“On the contrary,” said Father Peregrine swiftly. “Intelligent, you say?”
"Priča se jedna priča. Jedan istraživač ruda slomio je nogu u tim brdima i tamo bi i umro. Prišle su mu plave lopte svetlosti. Kada se probudio bio je dole na autoputu i nije znao kako je tamo dospeo."	“There’s a story. A prospector broke his leg in those hills and would have died there. The blue spheres of light came at him. When he woke, he was down on a highway and didn’t know how he got there.”
"Pijan", reče Otac Stoun.	“Drunk,” said Father Stone.
"To vam je priča", reče gradonačelnik. "Oče Perigrine, s obzirom na to da je većina Marsovaca mrtva, i da su tu samo te plave kugle, ja iskreno mislim da bi vam bilo bolje u Prvom gradu. Mars se otvara. To je sada granica, kao naš Zapad u staro vreme na Zemlji, i na Aljasci. Ljudi su nagrnuli ovamo gore. Ima par hiljada crnih irskih mehaničara, rudara i nadničara u Prvom gradu kojima je potrebno spasenje zato što ima i suviše mnogo pokvarenih žena koje su došle sa njima, i, previše marsovskog vina od hiljadu godina..."	“That’s the story,” said the mayor. “Father Peregrine, with most of the Martians dead, and only these blue spheres, I frankly think you’d be better off in First City. Mars is opening up. It’s a frontier now, like in the old days on Earth, out West, and in Alaska. Men are pouring up here. There’re a couple thousand black Irish mechanics and miners and day laborers in First Town who need saving, because there’re too many wicked women came with them, and too much ten-century-old Martian wine——”
Otac Perigrin je bio zagledan u vazdušasto plava brda.	Father Peregrine was gazing into the soft blue hills.
Otac Stoun pročisti grlo. "Pa, Oče?"	Father Stone cleared his throat. “Well, Father?”
Otac Perigrin ga nije čuo. "Kugle od plave vatre?"	Father Peregrine did not hear. “Spheres of blue fire?”
"Da, Oče."	“Yes, Father.”
"Ah", uzdahnu Otac Perigrin.	“Ah,” Father Peregrine sighed.
"Plavi baloni." Otac Stoun zavrte glavom. "Cirkus!"	“Blue balloons.” Father Stone shook his head. “A circus!”
Otac Perigrin oseti kako mu srce udara u člancima ruku. Video je pogranični gradić sa sirovim, sveže izgrađenim grehom, i video brda, stara da starija ne mogu biti a ipak možda još noviji (za njega) greh.	Father Peregrine felt his wrists pounding. He saw the little frontier town with raw, fresh-built sin, and he saw the hills, old with the oldest and yet perhaps an even newer (to him) sin.
"Gradonačelniče, da li bi vaši crni irski radenici mogli da se peku jedan dan više u ognju pakla?"	“Mayor, could your black Irish laborers cook one more day in hellfire?”
"Ja bi ih okretao i prelivao za vas, Oče."	“I’d turn and baste them for you, Father.”
Otac Perigrin klimnu glavom ka brdima. "Tamo ćemo da idemo."	Father Peregrine nodded to the hills. “Then that’s where we’ll go.”
Nastade žamor.	There was a murmur from everyone.
"Bilo bi tako jednostavno", objasni Otac Perigrin, "otići u grad. Više volim da mislim da bi Gospod, kada bi ušetao ovamo a Ijudi mu rekli: 'Evo utabane staze', odgovorio: 'Pokažite mi korov. Ja ću načiniti stazu.'"	“It would be so simple,” explained Father Peregrine, “to go into town. I prefer to think that if the Lord walked here and people said, ‘Here is the beaten path,’ He would reply, ‘Show me the weeds. I will make a path.’”
"Ali..."	“But——”
"Oče Stoun, pomisli koliko bi nas pritiskalo ako bismo prošli pored grešnika a da im ne pružimo ruku."	“Father Stone, think how it would weigh upon us if we passed sinners by and did not extend our hands.”

"Ali kugle od vatre!"	“But globes of fire!”
"Ja zamišljam da je čovek čudno izgledao drugim životinjama kada smo se prvi put pojavili. A on ima dušu i pored sve svoje neuglednosti. Sve dok ne dokažemo drugačije, pretpostavljamo da te plamene lopte imaju duše."	“I imagine man looked funny to other animals when we first appeared. Yet he has a soul, for all his homeliness. Until we prove otherwise, let us assume that these fiery spheres have souls.”
"U redu", složi se gradonačelnik, "ali vratićete se u grad."	“All right,” agreed the mayor, “but you’ll be back to town.”
"Videćemo. Najpre da nešto podoručkujemo. Onda ćemo ti i ja, Oče Stoun, otići sami pešice u brda. Ne želim da te vatrene Marsovce preplašimo mašinama ili gomilom. Hoćemo li doručkovati?"	“We’ll see. First, some breakfast. Then you and I, Father Stone, will walk alone into the hills. I don’t want to frighten those fiery Martians with machines or crowds. Shall we have breakfast?”
Očevi stadoše ćutke da jedu.	The Fathers ate in silence.
Kad pade noć Otac Perigrin i Otac Stoun bili su visoko u brdima. Zaustaviše se i sedoše na jednu stenu da uživaju u trenutku opuštanja i čekanja. Marsovci se do sada još nisu pojavili, i obojica očeva su se osećali neodređeno razočarani.	At nightfall Father Peregrine and Father Stone were high in the hills. They stopped and sat upon a rock to enjoy a moment of relaxation and waiting. The Martians had not as yet appeared and they both felt vaguely disappointed.
"Pitam se..." Otac Perigrin obrisa lice. "Šta misliš, ako bismo viknuli 'Halo!' možda bi odgovorili?"	“I wonder——” Father Peregrine mopped his face. “Do you think if we called ‘Hello!’ they might answer?”
"Oče Perigrine, zar se ti nikada nećeš uozbiljiti?"	“Father Peregrine, won’t you ever be serious?”
"Ne sve dok je dobrog Boga. Oh, molim te, nemoj da izgledaš tako strašno šokiran. Gospod nije ozbiljan. U stvari, malo je teško saznati kakav je on još, osim toga što je pun ljubavi. A ljubav ima veze sa humorom, zar ne? Jer ne možeš nekoga voleti sve dok ga ne podnosiš, je l' tako? A ne možeš nekoga stalno podnositi ako mu se ne možeš smejati. Zar nije tako? I mi smo svakako smešne životinjice koje se valjaju u zdeli sa prljavštinom, i Bog nas mora voleti utoliko više što delujemo na njegov osećaj za humor."	“Not until the good Lord is. Oh, don’t look so terribly shocked, please. The Lord is not serious. In fact, it is a little hard to know just what else He is except loving. And love has to do with humor, doesn’t it? For you cannot love someone unless you put up with him, can you? And you cannot put up with someone constantly unless you can laugh at him. Isn’t that true? And certainly we are ridiculous little animals wallowing in the fudge bowl, and God must love us all the more because we appeal to His humor.”
"Nikada nisam pomišljao na Boga kao na humoristično biće", reče Otac Stoun.	“I never thought of God as humorous,” said Father stone.
"Tvorac kljunara, kamile, noja, i čoveka? 'Ajde, bre!" nasmeja se Otac Perigrin.	“The Creator of the platypus, the camel, the ostrich, and man? Oh, come now!” Father Peregrine laughed.
Ali u tom trenutku, između sumračnih brda, kao niz plavih svetiljki upaljenih da im pokažu put, naiđoše Marsovci.	But at this instant, from among the twilight hills, like a series of blue lamps lit to guide their way, came the Martians.
Otac Stoun ih prvi vide. "Gledaj!"	Father Stone saw them first. “Look!”
Otac Perigrin se okrenu i smeh mu zamre u ustima. Okrugle plave lopte od vatre lebdele su među treperavim zvezdama, drhtureći u daljini.	Father Peregrine turned and the laughter stopped in his mouth. The round blue globes of fire hovered among the twinkling stars, distantly trembling.
"Čudovišta!" skoči Otac Stoun. Ali Otac Perigrin ga uhvati. "Čekaj!"	“Monsters!” Father Stone leaped up. But Father Peregrine caught him. “Wait!”
"Trebalo je da odemo u grad!"	“We should’ve gone to town!”
"Ne, slušaj, gledaj!" molio je Otac Perigrin.	“No, listen, look!” pleaded Father Peregrine.
"Bojim se!"	“I’m afraid!”
"Ne boj se. Ovo je Božje delo!"	“Don’t be. This is God’s work!”
"Đavolovo!"	“The devil’s!”
"Psst, tiho sada!" umiri ga Otac Perigrin i oni čučnuše sa mekom plavom svetlošću na licima zabačenim uvis dok su se plamene okrugline približavale.	“No, now, quiet!” Father Peregrine gentled him and they crouched with the soft blue light on their upturned faces as the fiery orbs drew near.
I opet, Noć nezavisnosti, mislio je Otac Perigrin uzdrhtalo. Oseti se kao dete, davno u one večeri Četvrtog jula kada je nebo pucalo, rasprskavajući se u zvezdani prah i zvuk paljevine, dok su prozori na kućama zveckali od udara vazduha poput leda koji se rasprskava po površini plitkih barica. Tetke, stričevi, rođaci koji uzvikuju 'Ah!' kao da se obraćaju kakvom nebeskom vidaru. Boje letnjeg neba.	And again, Independence Night, thought Father Peregrine, tremoring. He felt like a child back in those July Fourth evenings, the sky blowing apart, breaking into powdery stars and burning sound, the concussions jingling house windows like the ice on a thousand thin ponds. The aunts, uncles, cousins crying, as to some celestial physician. The summer sky colors.
I Vatreni baloni, koje je zapalio neki popustljivi deda, smireni u njegovim krupnim nežnim rukama. Oh, sećanje na te divne vatrene balone, blago osvetljene, toplotom naduvane komade tkiva, slične krilima insekata što leže poput spakovanih zolja u kutijama, i, posle svega, posle onog dana nereda i divljanja, najzad se vade iz svojih kutija, pažljivo razvijaju, plavi, crveni, beli, patriotski - Vatreni baloni!	And the Fire Balloons, lit by an indulgent grandfather, steadied in his massively tender hands. Oh, the memory of those lovely Fire Balloons, softly lighted, warmly billowed bits of tissue, like insect wings, lying like folded wasps in boxes and, last of all, after the day of riot and fury, at long last from their boxes, delicately unfolded, blue, red, white, patriotic—the Fire Balloons!
Video je nejasne likove dragih srodnika, davno pomrlih i prekrivenih mahovinom, dok Deda pali svećicu da bi toplom strujom vazduha naduvao balon, okruglasto osvetljen u njegovim rukama, sjajnu viziju koju su zadržavali u sebi opirući se da je puste da ode; jer kada se najzad pusti, to je bila još jedna godina othujala iz života, još jedan Četvrti, još jedan deo Lepote iščezao. Onda su se dizali, dizali, odlazili sve dalje, kroz sazvežđa tople letnje noći; plutali su Vatreni baloni dok su ih sa porodičnih tremova nemo sledile crveno-belo-plave oči. Udaljujući se u dubinu zemlje Ilinois, preko noćnih reka i usnulih staništa, smanjivali su se Vatreni baloni, iščezavali navek.	He saw the dim faces of dear relatives long dead and mantled with moss as Grandfather lit the tiny candle and let the warm air breathe up to form the balloon plumply luminous in his hands, a shining vision which they held, reluctant to let it go; for, once released, it was yet another year gone from life, another Fourth, another bit of Beauty vanished. And then up, up, still up through the warm summer night constellations, the Fire Balloons had drifted, while red-white-and-blue eyes followed them, wordless, from family porches. Away into deep Illinois country, over night rivers and sleeping mansions the Fire Balloons dwindled, forever gone.
Otac Perigrin oseti suze u očima. Nad njim su, izgleda, lebdeli Marsovci, ne jedan, već hiljadu šaputavih Vatrenih balona. Svakog trenutka mogao bi kraj sebe naći svog davno umrlog i blaženopočivšeg dedu, zagledanog uvis u Lepotu.	Father Peregrine felt tears in his eyes. Above him the Martians, not one but a thousand whispering Fire Balloons, it seemed, hovered. Any moment he might find his long-dead and blessed grandfather at his elbow, staring up at Beauty.
Ali pored njega je bio Otac Stoun.	But it was Father Stone.
"Hajdemo, molim te, Oče!"	“Let’s go, please, Father!”
"Moram govoriti s njima." Otac Perigrin zašušta krenuvši napred, ne znajući šta da kaže, jer šta je on ikada rekao Vatrenim balonima iz prošlosti osim u svojoj glavi: divni ste, divni ste, a to sada nije bilo dovoljno. Mogao je samo da podigne svoje teške ruke i vikne uvis, kao što je često želeo da vikne za začaranim Vatrenim balonima: "Zdravo!"	“I must speak to them.” Father Peregrine rustled forward, not knowing what to say, for what had he ever said to the Fire Balloons of time past except with his mind: you are beautiful, you are beautiful, and that was not enough now. He could only lift his heavy arms and call upward, as he had often wished to call after the enchanted Fire Balloons, “Hello!”
Ali vatrene lopte samo su gorele kao slike u tamnom ogledalu. Izgledale su kao pričvršćene zauvek, vazdušaste, čudesne.	But the fiery spheres only burned like images in a dark minor. They seemed fixed, gaseous, miraculous, forever.
"Dolazimo Gospodu", reče Otac Perigrin nebu.	“We come with God,” said Father Peregrine to the sky.

"Blesavo, blesavo, blesavo." Otac Stoun je grizao nadlanicu. "U ime Boga, oče Perigrine, prestani!"	“Silly, silly, silly.” Father Stone chewed the back of his hand. “In the name of God, Father Peregrine, stop!”
Ali sada fosforescentne lopte dunuše u brda. U trenutku nestadoše.	But now the phosphorescent spheres blew away into the hills. In a moment they were gone.
Otac Perigrin opet pozva, i odjek njegovog poslednjeg uzvika zatrese brda iznad njih. Okrenuvši se, ugleda kako lavina stresa prašinu, zastaje, i onda, uz grmljavinu kamenih gromada, oburvava planinu na njih.	Father Peregrine called again, and the echo of his last cry shook the hills above. Turning, he saw an avalanche shake out dust, pause, and then, with a thunder of stone wheels, crash down the mountain upon them.
"Vidi šta si učinio!" uzviknu Otac Stoun.	“Look what you’ve done!” cried Father Stone
Otac Perigrin je bio gotovo zanet zatim prestravljen. Okrete se, znajući da mogu potrčati samo nekoliko stopa pre nego što ih stene zdrobe u komade. Imao je vremena da prošapće Oh, Gospode! I stene se sručiše!	Father Peregrine was almost fascinated, then horrified. He turned, knowing they could run only a few feet before the rocks crushed them into ruins. He had time to whisper, Oh, Lord! and the rocks fell!
"Oče!"	“Father!”
Bili su razdvojeni kao pleva od zrna. Plavo svetlucanje kugli, zatim hladne zvezde, urlik, i onda su stajali na jednoj litici udaljenoj dve stotine stopa i gledali na mesto gde je trebalo da im tela budu zatrpana pod kamenom. Plava svetlost ispari.	They were separated like chaff from wheat. There was a blue shimmering of globes, a shift of cold stars, a roar, and then they stood upon a ledge two hundred feet away watching the spot where their bodies should have been buried under tons of stone. The blue light evaporated.
Dva Oca ščepaše jedan drugog. "Šta se dogodilo?"	The two Fathers clutched each other. “What happened?”
"Podigle su nas plave vatre!"	“The blue fires lifted us!”
"Trčali smo, to je bilo!"	“We ran, that was it!”
"Ne, kugle su nas spasle."	“No, the globes saved us.”
"Nisu mogle!"	“They couldn’t!”
"Učinile su to."	“They did.”
Nebo je bilo prazno. Kao da je kakvo veliko zvono upravo prestalo da udara. U zubima i srži još su osećali brujanje odjeka.	The sky was empty. There was a feel as if a great bell had just stopped tolling. Reverberations lingered in their teeth and marrows.
"Hajdemo odavde. Napravićeš da nas ubiju."	“Let’s get away from here. You’ll have us killed.”
"Ja se ne bojim smrti već mnogo godina, Oče Stoun."	“I haven’t feared death for a good many years, Father Stone.”
"Ništa nismo dokazali. Te plave svetlosti su pobegle na prvi uzvik. Beskorisno je."	“We’ve proved nothing. Those blue lights ran off at the first cry. It’s useless.”
"Ne." Otac Perigrin je bio obuzet upornim čudenjem. "Na neki način, one su nas spasle. To dokazuje da imaju dušu."	“No.” Father Peregrine was suffused with a stubborn wonder. “Somehow, they saved us. That proves they have souls.”
"To samo dokazuje da su nas one mogle spasti. Sve je bilo u pometnji. Mogli smo pobeći, sami."	“It proves only that they might have saved us. Everything was confused. We might have escaped, ourselves.”
"One nisu životinje, Oče Stoun. Životinje ne spasavaju živote, naročito ne živote stranaca. Ovde postoji milosrđe i saosećanje. Možda ćemo sutra moći više da dokažemo."	“They are not animals, Father Stone. Animals do not save lives, especially of strangers. There is mercy and compassion here. Perhaps, tomorrow, we may prove more.
"Da dokažemo šta? Kako?" Otac Stoun je sada bio strašno umoran; na njegovom krutom licu videlo se nasilje nad njegovim duhom i telom. "Da ih sledimo u helikopterima, da im čitamo glave i stihove? To nisu ljudi. Nemaju oči niti uši, niti tela kao naša."	“Prove what? How?” Father Stone was immensely tired now; the outrage to his mind and body showed on his stiff face. “Follow them in helicopters, reading chapter and verse? They’re not human. They haven’t eyes or ears or bodies like ours.”
"Ali ja osećam nešto kod njih", reče Otac Perigrin. "Znam da je na domaku veliko otkrovenje. One su nas spasle. One misle. Mogle su da biraju; da nam daju da živimo ili da umremo. To dokazuje slobodnu volju!"	“But I feel something about them,” replied Father Peregrine. “I know a great revelation is at hand. They saved us. They think. They had a choice; let us live or die. That proves free will!”
Otac Stoun se dade na posao da založi vatru, buljeći u komade drveta u svojim rukama, gušeći se od sivog dima. "Ja lično ću da otvorim manastirsku školu za časne sestre guske, manastir za posvećene svinje, i izgradiću minijaturnu apsidu u mikroskopu tako da paramecijumi mogu pohađati službu božiju i čitati krunice svojim trepljama."	Father Stone set to work building a fire, glaring at the sticks in his hands, choking on the gray smoke. “I myself will open a convent for nursling geese, a monastery for sainted swine, and I shall build a miniature apse in a microscope so that paramecium can attend services and tell their beads with their flagella.”
"Oh, Oče Stoun."	“Oh, Father Stone.”
"Izvini." Otac Stoun crveno zažmiri preko vatre. "Ali ovo je kao da blagosiljaš krokodila pre nego što te sažvaće. Dovodiš u opasnost čitavu misionarsku ekspediciju. Nama je mesto u Prvom gradu, da ispiramo alkohol iz grla ljudi i miris sa njihovih ruku!"	“I’m sorry.” Father Stone blinked redly across the fire. “But this is like blessing a crocodile before he chews you up. You’re risking the entire missionary expedition. We belong in First Town, washing liquor from men’s throats and perfume off their hands!”
"Zar ti ne možeš da raspoznaš ljudsko u neljudskom?"	“Can’t you recognize the human in the inhuman?”
"Ja bih mnogo radije prepoznavao neljudsko u ljudskom."	“I’d much rather recognize the inhuman in the human.”
"Ali ako ja dokažem da ove stvari greše, poznaju greh, poznaju moralan život, imaju slobodnu volju i intelekt, Oče Stoun?"	“But if I prove these things sin, know sin, know a moral life, have free will and intellect, Father Stone?”
"Biće potrebno mnogo ubeđivanja."	“That will take much convincing.”
Noć je brzo hladnela, oni su piljili u vatru kao da u njoj traže svoje najluđe misli, jeli biskvite i bobice, i uskoro se ututkaše za spavanje pod raspevanim zvezdama. I baš pre nego što se okrenuo poslednji put Otac Stoun, koji je već dugo razmišljao kako da nađe nešto da nasekira Oca Perigrina, zagleda se u utrnulu žeravicu i reče: "Nema Adama i Eve na Marsu. Nema prvobitnog greha. Možda Marsovci žive u jednom stanju božije milosti. Onda možemo da se vratimo dole u grad i počnemo da radimo na Zemljanima."	The night grew rapidly cold and they peered into the fire to find their wildest thoughts, while eating biscuits and berries, and soon they were bundled for sleep under the chiming stars. And just before turning over one last time Father Stone, who had been thinking for many minutes to find something to bother Father Peregrine about, stared into the soft pink charcoal bed and said, “No Adam and Eve on Mars. No original sin. Maybe the Martians live in a state of God’s grace. Then we can go back down to town and start work on the Earthmen.”

Otac Perigrin se podseti da očita jednu molitvicu za Oca Stouna koji je tako poludeo i koji se sada inati, Bog neka mu je na pomoći. "Da, Oče Stoun, ali Marsovci su ubili neke od naših naseljenika. To je grešno. Mora da su postojali neki Prvobitni greh i neki Adam i Eva. Mi ćemo ih naći. Ljudi su ljudi, na žalost, bez obzira u kakvom obličju, i skloni su grehu."	Father Peregrine reminded himself to say a little prayer for Father Stone, who got so mad and who was now being vindictive, God help him. “Yes, Father Stone, but the Martians killed some of our settlers. That’s sinful. There must have been an Original Sin and a Martian Adam and Eve. We’ll find them. Men are men, unfortunately, no matter what their shape, and inclined to sin.”
Ali Otac Stoun se pravio da spava.	But Father Stone was pretending sleep.
Otac Perigrin nije sklapao oči.	Father Peregrine did not shut his eyes.
Naravno da ne bi mogli da puste te Marsovce da odu u pakao, zar ne? Uz kompromis sa svojom savešću, zar bi mogli da se vrate u nove kolonijalne gradove, te gradove toliko pune grešnih sokačića i žena sa usjaktelim očima i belom puti što se valjaju po krevetima sa usamljenim radnicima? Zar to nije mesto za Očeve? Zar ovaj tegobni put u brda nije bio samo njegova lična ćud? Misli li on zaista na Božiju crkvu, ili gasi žeđ svoje radoznalosti koja je kao spužva? One plave okrugle kugle vatre Svetog Antonija - kako su mu gorele u glavi! Kakvo iskušenje - pronaći čoveka iza maske, ljudsko iza neljudskog. Zar se ne bi ponosio ako bi mogao da kaže, makar potajno u duši, da je preobratio ogroman bilijarski sto pun vatrenih lopti! Kakav greh oholosti! Vredan pokajanja! Ali čovek čini mnoge ohole stvari iz Ljubavi, a on je toliko voleo Gospoda i bio tako srećan zbog toga da je želeo da i svi drugi budu srećni.	Of course they couldn’t let these Martians go to hell, could they? With a compromise to their consciences, could they go back to the new colonial towns, those towns so full of sinful gullets and women with scintilla eyes and white oyster bodies rollicking in beds with lonely laborers? Wasn’t that the place for the Fathers? Wasn’t this trek into the hills merely a personal whim? Was he really thinking of God’s Church, or was he quenching the thirst of a spongelike curiosity? Those blue round globes of St. Anthony’s fire—how they burned in his mind! What a challenge, to find the man behind the mask, the human behind the inhuman. Wouldn’t he be proud if he could say, even to his secret self, that he had converted a rolling huge pool table full of fiery spheres! What a sin of pride! Worth doing penance for! But then one did many prideful things out of Love, and he loved the Lord so much and was so happy at it that he wanted everyone else to be happy too.
Poslednje što je video pre nego što je pao u san bilo je vraćanje plavih vatri, koje su ga kao jato plamtećih anđela nečujnom a umilnom pesmom otpremile na uznemireni počinak.	The last thing he saw before sleep was the return of the blue fires, like a flight of burning angels silently singing him to his worried rest.
Plavi okrugli snovi još su bili tamo na nebu kada se Otac Perigrin probudi rano ujutru.	The blue round dreams were still there in the sky when Father Peregrine awoke in the early morning.
Otac Stoun je spavao kao klupče, mirno. Otac Perigrin je gledao Marsovce kako lebde i posmatraju ga. Priroda im je bila ljudska - znao je to. Samo on to mora dokazati, ili će se naći pred suvoustim, suvookim Biskupom koji će mu ljubazno reći da odstupi.	Father Stone slept like a stiff bundle, quietly. Father Peregrine watched the Martians floating and watching him. They were human—he knew it. But he must prove it or face a dry-mouthed, dry-eyed Bishop telling him kindly to step aside.
Ali kako dokazati ljudskost ako se oni skrivaju u visokim nebeskim svodovima? Kako ih dovući bliže i dobiti odgovore na ta mnoga pitanja?	But how to prove humanity if they hid in the high vaults of the sky? How to bring them nearer and provide answers to the many questions?
"Spasli su nas od lavine."	“They saved us from the avalanche.”
Otac Perigrin se diže, pođe između stena, i stade da se penje na najbliže brdo dok ne dođe do jednog mesta gde se litica okomito spuštala na zaravan na dubini od dve stotine stopa. Gušio se od žustrog penjanja na mrzlom vazduhu. Stade da uhvati vazduha.	Father Peregrine arose, moved off among the rocks, and began to climb the nearest hill until he came to a place where a cliff dropped sheerly to a floor two hundred feet below. He was choking from his vigorous climb in the frosty air. He stood, getting his breath.
"Kada bih pao odavde, sigurno bih poginuo."	“If I fell from here, it would surely kill me.”
Pusti jedan šljunak da padne. Trenutak kasnije ču ga kako udari dole o stenje.	He let a pebble drop. Moments later it clicked on the rocks below.
"Gospod mi nikada ne bi oprostio."	“The Lord would never forgive me.”
Hitnu još jedan šljunčić.	He tossed another pebble.
"Ne bi bilo samoubistvo, je l' tako, ako bih to učinio iz ljubavi...?"	“It wouldn’t be suicide, would it, if I did it out of Love . . . ?”
Diže pogled na plave krugove. "Ali prvo, da još jednom pokušamo." Onda ih pozva: "Zdravo, zdravo!"	He lifted his gaze to the blue spheres. “But first, another try.” He called to them: “Hello, hello!”
Odjeci zaređaše jedan za drugim, ali plave vatre ne trepnuše i ne pokrenuše se.	The echoes tumbled upon each other, but the blue fires did not blink or move.
Govorio im je pet minuta. Kada prestade, zagleda se ispod litice i vide Oca Stouna kako još uvređeno spava, dole u malom logoru.	He talked to them for five minutes. When he stopped, he peered down and saw Father Stone, still indignantly asleep, below in the little camp.
"Moram sve dokazati." Otac Perigrin kroči na obod litice. "Ja sam star čovek. Ne bojim se. Sigurno će Gospod razumeti da ovo činim za Njega?"	“I must prove everything.” Father Peregrine stepped to the cliff rim. “I am an old man. I am not afraid. Surely the Lord will understand that I am doing this for Him?”
Duboko udahnu vazduh. Ceo njegov život mu prolete ispred očiju i on pomisli: "Da li ću umreti kroz jedan trenutak? Bojim se da i suviše volim da živim. Ali još više volim druge stvari."	He drew a deep breath. All his life swam through his eyes and he thought, In a moment shall I die? I am afraid that I love living much too much. But I love other things more.
Sa takvim mislima otisnu se sa litice.	And, thinking thus, he stepped off the cliff.
Pao je.	He fell.
"Budalo!" kriknu. Pretumbavao se preko glave. "Nisi bio u pravu!" Stene su mu se munjevito primicale i video je sebe kako treska o njih i odlazi Bogu na istinu. "Što učinih ovo?" Ali znao je odgovor, i trenutak kasnije bio je smiren. Oko njega je urlao vetar, a stene su se ustremljivale da ga dočekaju.	“Fool!” he cried. He tumbled end over end. “You were wrong!” The rocks rushed up at him and he saw himself dashed on them and sent to glory. “Why did I do this thing?” But he knew the answer, and an instant later was calm as he fell. The wind roared around him and the rocks hurtled to meet him.
Onda se izmeniše zvezde, javi se plavo svetlucanje, i on oseti da je okružen plavetnilom i zaustavljen u vazduhu. Sledećeg trenutka, uz lak trzaj, bi spušten na stenu, gde pošteno sede, živ, i uze da se opipava gledajući gore u ona plava svetla koja su se smesta povukla.	And then there was a shift of stars, a glimmering of blue light, and he felt himself surrounded by blueness and suspended. A moment later he was deposited, with a gentle bump, upon the rocks, where he sat a full moment alive, and touching himself, and looking up at those blue lights that had withdrawn instantly.
"Spasli ste me!" šaputao je. "Niste hteli da me pustite da umrem. Znali ste da je to nepravedno."	“You saved me!” he whispered. “You wouldn’t let me die. You knew it was wrong.”
Odjuri do Oca Stouna koji je još ležao u spokojnom snu. "Oče, Oče, probudi se!" Prodrma ga i okrete. "Oče, oni su me spasli!"	He rushed over to Father Stone, who still lay quietly asleep. “Father, Father, wake up!” He shook him and brought him round. “Father, they saved me!”
"Ko te spasao?" zažmirka Otac Stoun i sede.	“Who saved you?” Father Stone blinked and sat up.
Otac Perigrin ispriča šta mu se dogodilo.	Father Peregrine related his experience.
"San, košmar; lezi opet pa spavaj", reče razdraženo Otac Stoun. "Ti i tvoji cirkuski baloni."	“A dream, a nightmare; go back to sleep,” said Father Stone irritably. “You and your circus balloons.”
"Ali bio sam budan!"	“But I was awake!”

"Hajde, Oče, smiri se. Hajde sad."	“Now, now, Father, calm yourself. There now.
"Ne veruješ mi? Imaš li pištolj? Jeste, daj mi ga ovamo."	“You don’t believe me? Have you a gun? Yes, there, let me have it.”
"Šta to hoćeš?" Otac Stoun mu pruži mali pištolj koji su poneli da bi se zaštitili od zmija ili drugih sličnih nepredvidivih životinja.	“What are you going to do?” Father Stone handed over the small pistol they had brought along for protection against snakes or other similar and unpredictable animals.
Otac Perigrin zgrabi pištolj. "Dokazaću!"	Father Peregrine seized the pistol. “I’ll prove it!”
Uperi pištolj u svoju šaku i opali.	He pointed the pistol at his own hand and fired.
"Stani!"	“Stop!”
Blesnu svetlost, i pred njihovim očima zaustavi se metak u vazduhu, na dva centimetra od njegovog ispruženog dlana. Lebdeo je jedan tren, okružen plavim fosforescentnim svetlacima. Onda šišteći pade u prašinu.	There was a shimmer of light and before their eyes the bullet stood upon the air, poised an inch from his open palm. It hung for a moment, surrounded by a blue phosphorescence. Then it fell, hissing, into the dust.
Otac Perigrin opali tri puta iz pištolja - u šaku, u nogu, i u telo. Tri zrna zalebdeše, svetlucajući, i padoše kraj njihovih nogu kao uginuli insekti.	Father Peregrine fired the gun three times—at his hand, at his leg, at his body. The three bullets hovered, glittering, and, like dead insects, fell at their feet.
"Vidiš?" reče Otac Perigrin opustivši ruku, ispuštajući pištolj sa mecima. "Oni znaju. Shvataju. Nisu životinje. Misle i rasuđuju i žive u jednoj moralnoj klimi. Koja bi me životinja ovako spasla od samog sebe? Nema životinje koja bi to učinila. Samo drugi čovek, Oče. Veruješ li sada?"	“You see?” said Father Peregrine, letting his arm fall, and allowing the pistol to drop after the bullets. “They know. They understand. They are not animals. They think and judge and live in a moral climate. What animal would save me from myself like this? There is no animal would do that. Only another man, Father. Now, do you believe?”
Otac Stoun je gledao u nebo i u plave svetlosti, zatim se ćuteći spusti na jedno koleno, podiže još tople metke i skupi ih u ruci. Onda čvrsto stisnu šaku.	Father Stone was watching the sky and the blue lights, and now, silently, he dropped to one knee and picked up the warm bullets and cupped them in his hand. He closed his hand tight.
Iza njih se rađalo sunce.	The sun was rising behind them.
"Mislim da bi bolje bilo da siđemo ostalima, da im ovo ispričamo i dovedemo ih ovamo gore", reče Otac Perigrin.	“I think we had better go down to the others and tell them of this and bring them back up here,” said Father Peregrine.
Kad se sunce podiglo, oni su se već vraćali ka raketi.	By the time the sun was up, they were well on their way back to the rocket.
Otac Perigrin opisa krug na sredini table. "Ovo je Hristos, sin Očev."	Father Peregrine drew the round circle in the center of the blackboard. “This is Christ, the son of the Father.”
Pravio se da ne čuje kako ostalim Očevima zastaje dah.	He pretended not to hear the other Fathers’ sharp intake of breath.
"Ovo je Hristos, u svoj svojoj Slavi", nastavi on.	“This is Christ in all his Glory,” he continued.
"Izgleda kao problem iz geometrije", primeti Otac Stoun.	“It looks like a geometry problem,” observed Father Stone.
"Srećno poređenje, jer ovde baratamo simbolima. Hrist nije ništa manje Hrist, morate priznati, zato što je predstavljen krugom ili četvorouglom. Vekovima krst simbolizuje njegovu ljubav i agoniju. Zato će ovaj krug biti marsovski Hristos. Na taj način dovešćemo ga na Mars."	“A fortunate comparison, for we deal with symbols here. Christ is no less Christ, you must admit, in being represented by a circle or a square. For centuries the cross has symbolized his love and agony. So this circle will be the Martian Christ. This is how we shall bring Him to Mars.”
Očevi su se razdraženo meškoljili i pogledali jedan drugoga.	The Fathers stirred fretfully and looked at each other.
"Ti ćeš, Brate Matija, izraditi, od stakla, kopiju ovog kruga. Jednu loptu ispunjenu sjajnom vatrom. Ona će stajati na oltaru."	“You, Brother Mathias, will create, in glass, a replica of this circle, a globe, filled with bright fire. It will stand upon the altar.”
"Jeftin mađioničarski trik", promrmlja Otac Stoun.	“A cheap magic trick,” muttered Father Stone
Otac Perigrin strpljivo nastavi: "Naprotiv. Mi im dajemo Boga u jednom shvatljivom obličju. Da je nama Hristos došao na Zemlju kao oktopod, da li bismo ga spremno prihvatili?" On raširi ruke. "Je li to onda bio neki jeftin mađioničarski trik Gospodov, da nam dovede Hrista kroz Isusa, u obličju čoveka? Pošto blagoslovimo crkvu koju ovde izgradimo i osvetimo njen oltar i ovaj simbol, mislite li da bi Hristos odbio da nastani oblik pred nama? Znate u svojim srcima da ne bi odbio."	Father Peregrine went on patiently: “On the contrary. We are giving them God in an understandable image. If Christ had come to us on Earth as an octopus, would we have accepted him readily?” He spread his hands. “Was it then a cheap magic trick of the Lord’s to bring us Christ through Jesus, in man’s shape? After we bless the church we build here and sanctify its altar and this symbol, do you think Christ would refuse to inhabit the shape before us? You know in your hearts He would not refuse.”
"Ali telo životinje bez duše!" reče Brat Matija. "To smo već prešli, mnogo puta od kada smo se vratili jutros, Brate Matija. Ta stvorenja spasla su nas od lavine. Shvatila su da je samouništenje grešno, i sprečila ga, svaki put. Zbog toga moramo sagraditi crkvu u brdima, živeti sa njima, da bismo pronašli na koje posebne načine oni greše, strane načine, i pomogli im da otkriju Boga."	“But the body of a soulless animal!” said Brother Mathias. “We’ve already gone over that, many times since we returned this morning, Brother Mathias. These creatures saved us from the avalanche. They realized that self-destruction was sinful, and prevented it, time after time. Therefore we must build a church in the hills, live with them, to find their own special ways of sinning, the alien ways, and help them to discover God.”
Očevi nisu izgledali zadovoljni perspektivom.	The Fathers did not seem pleased at the prospect.
"Je li to zato što su tako neobični oku?" ćudio se Otac Perigrin. "Ali šta je oblik? Samo posuda za plamteću dušu koji nam Bog svima daje. Kada bih ja sutra ustanovio da morski lavovi odjednom poseduju slobodnu volju, intelekt, da znaju kada da ne greše, da znaju šta je život i ublažavaju pravdu milosrđem a život ljubavlju, sagradio bih katedralu ispod mora. I ako bi vrapci, čudom i voljom božjom, sutra zadobili večite duše, ja bih napunio crkvu helijumom i napravio je da liči na njih, jer sve duše, u svakom obliku, ako imaju slobodnu volju i svesne su svojih greha, goreće u paklu ukoliko im se ne da njihova pravedna vera. Ja ne bih dozvolio da nijedna marsovska kugla gori u paklu, jer to je kugla samo u mojim očima. Kada zatvorim oči, ona stoji preda mnom, inteligencija, ljubav, duša - i ja to ne smem poreći."	“Is it because they are so odd to the eye?” wondered Father Peregrine. “But what is a shape? Only a cup for the blazing soul that God provides us all. If tomorrow I found that sea lions suddenly possessed free will, intellect, knew when not to sin, knew what life was and tempered justice with mercy and life with love, then I would build an undersea cathedral. And if the sparrows should, miraculously, with God’s will, gain everlasting souls tomorrow, I would freight a church with helium and take after them, for all souls, in any shape, if they have free will and are aware of their sins, will burn in hell unless given their rightful communions. I would not let a Martian sphere burn in hell, either, for it is a sphere only in mine eyes. When I close my eyes it stands before me, an intelligence, a love, a soul—and I must not deny it.”
"Ali ta staklena lopta što želiš da je smesti na oltar", pobuni se Otac Stoun.	“But that glass globe you wish placed on the altar,” protested Father Stone.
"Uzmite Kineze", odvrati Otac Perigrin neuznemireno. "Kakvog Hrista poštuju Kinezi hrišćani? Istočnjačkog Hrista, naravno. Svi ste videli istočnjačke scene Rođenja Hristovog. Kako je Hristos odeven? U istočnjačke haljine. Kuda hoda? Po kineskim predelima sa bambusima, planinom u izmaglici i kvrgavim drvetom. Očni kapci mu se sužavaju, jagodice su mu istaknute. Svaka zemlja, svaka rasa doda ponešto našem Gospodu. Sećam se Device iz Gvadalupe koju obožava čitav Meksiko. A njena koža? Jeste li zapazili njene slike? Tamna koža, kao i koža njenih poklonika. Je li to svetogrđe? Uopšte ne. Nije logično da ljudi prihvate Boga neke druge boje, koliko god on bio stvaran. Često se čudim kako naši misionari uspevaju u Africi, sa snežno belim Hristom. Možda zato što je za afrička plemena belo sveta boja, u albinima ili u nekom drugom obliku. Vremenom, zar Hristos možda i tamo ne bi potamneo? Forma nema značaja. Sadržina je sve. Ne možemo očekivati da ovi Marsovci prihvate neku tuđu formu. Daćemo im Hrista u njihovom sopstvenom liku."	“Consider the Chinese,” replied Father Peregrine imperturbably. “What sort of Christ do Christian Chinese worship? An oriental Christ, naturally. You’ve all seen oriental Nativity scenes. How is Christ dressed? In Eastern robes. Where does He walk? In Chinese settings of bamboo and misty mountain and crooked tree. His eyelids taper, his cheekbones rise. Each country, each race adds something to Our Lord. I am reminded of the Virgin of Guadalupe, to whom all Mexico pays its love. Her skin? Have you noticed the paintings of her? A dark skin, like that of her worshipers. Is this blasphemy? Not at all. It is not logical that men should accept a God, no matter how real, of another color. I often wonder why our missionaries do well in Africa, with a snow-white Christ. Perhaps because white is a sacred color, in albino, or any other form, to the African tribes. Given time, mightn’t Christ darken there too? The form does not matter. Content is everything. We cannot expect these Martians to accept an alien form. We shall give them Christ in their own image.”
"Ima jedna greška u tvom rezonovanju, Oče", reče Otac Stoun. "Zar nas Marsovci neće osumnjičiti za licemerje? Oni će shvatiti da mi ne obožavamo okruglog, kuglastog Hrista, već čoveka sa udovima i glavom. Kako da objasnimo tu razliku?"	“There’s a flaw in your reasoning, Father,” said Father Stone. “Won’t the Martians suspect us of hypocrisy? They will realize that we don’t worship a round, globular Christ, but a man with limbs and a head. How do we explain the difference?”
"Tako što ćemo pokazati da nema razlike. Hristos će ispuniti svaku posudu koja mu se ponudi. Tela ili lopte. On je tu, i svako će obožavati istu stvar u različitom ruhu. Šta više, mi moramo verovati u ovu loptu koju dajemo Marsovcima. Mi moramo verovati u jedan oblik koji je za nas besmislen što se tiče forme. Ovaj sferoid biće Hrist. I moramo se setiti da bismo i mi sami, i oblik našeg Zemaljskog Hrista, ovim Marsovcima bili besmisleni, smešni, traćenje materijala."	“By showing there is none. Christ will fill any vessel that is offered. Bodies or globes, he is there, and each will worship the same thing in a different guise. What is more, we must believe in this globe we give the Martians. We must believe in a shape which is meaningless to us as to form. This spheroid will be Christ. And we must remember that we ourselves, and the shape of our Earth Christ, would be meaningless, ridiculous, a squander of material to these Martians.”
Otac Perigrin odloži kredu. "Hajdemo sada u brda da gradimo crkvu."	Father Peregrine laid aside his chalk. “Now let us go into the hills and build our church.”

Očevi počeše da pakuju opremu.	The Fathers began to pack their equipment.
Crkva nije bila crkva, već mesto raščišćeno od stenja, plato na jednoj od nižih planina, sa poravnjanim i iščetkanim tlom, i nameštenim oltarom na koji je Brat Matija postavio vatrenu kuglu koju je konstruisao.	The church was not a church but an area cleared of rocks, a plateau on one of the low mountains, its soil smoothed and brushed, and an altar established whereon Brother Mathias placed the fiery globe he had constructed.
Posle šest dana rada 'crkva' je bila gotova.	At the end of six days of work the “church” was ready.
"Šta ćemo sa ovim?" Otac Stoun lupi o železno zvono koje su doneli sa sobom. "Šta njima znači zvono?"	“What shall we do with this?” Father Stone tapped an iron bell they had brought along. “What does a bell mean to them?”
"Mislim da sam ga doneo nama za utehu", priznade Otac Perigrin. "Treba nam nekoliko poznatih stvari. Ova crkva tako malo liči na crkvu. I mi se ovde osećamo nekako apsurdno - čak i ja; jer ovo je nešto novo, ovaj posao preobraćanja stvorenja iz jednog drugog sveta. Ponekad se osećam kao glumac u smešnom komadu. Onda molim Boga da mi podari snage."	“I imagine I brought it for our own comfort,” admitted Father Peregrine. “We need a few familiarities. This church seems so little like a church. And we feel somewhat absurd here—even I; for it is something new, this business of converting the creatures of another world. I feel like a ridiculous play actor at times. And then I pray to God to lend me strength.”
"Mnogi Očevi su nesrećni. Neki od njih se sprdaju sa svim ovim, Oče Perigrine."	“Many of the Fathers are unhappy. Some of them joke about all this, Father Peregrine.”
"Znam. Ali opet, pretpostavljam, radi naše udobnosti treba nam naša sopstvena muzika. Kasnije ćemo možda otkriti njihovu."	“I know. We’ll put this bell in a small tower, for their comfort, anyway.” “What about the organ?” “We’ll play it at the first service, tomorrow.” “But, the Martians——” “I know. But again, I suppose, for our own comfort, our own music. Later we may discover theirs.”
U nedelju ujutru digoše se vrlo rano i krenuše kroz hladnoću kao blede utvare, dok su im na rizama zveckale kuglice leda; bili su kao pokriveni praporcima i stresali su sa sebe mlazeve srebrne vode.	They arose very early on Sunday morning and moved through the coldness like pale phantoms, rime tinkling on their habits; covered with chimes they were, shaking down showers of silver water.
"Da mi je da znam je li ovde na Marsu nedelja?" glasno je razmišljao Otac Perigrin, ali videći kako je Otac Stoun ustuknuo požuri da nastavi: "Mogao bi biti utorak ili četvrtak - ko zna? Ali nema veze. Dokon sam pa zamišljam. Nama je nedelja. Hajde."	“I wonder if it is Sunday here on Mars?” mused Father Peregrine, but seeing Father Stone wince, he hastened on, “It might be Tuesday or Thursday—who knows? But no matter. My idle fancy. It’s Sunday to us. Come.”
Očevi stupiše u široki zaravnjeni prostor 'crkve' i kleknuše, drhteći i poplavelih usana.	The Fathers walked into the flat wide area of the “church” and knelt, shivering and blue-lipped.
Otac Perigrin očita jednu molitvicu i stavi hladne prste na dirke orgulja. Muzika se uzdiže uvis kao jato ljupkih ptica. Dodirivao je dirke kao čovek koji rukama prolazi kroz korov ižđikljalog vrta, odašiljući lepotu u brda u širokim zamasima.	Father Peregrine said a little prayer and put his cold fingers to the organ keys. The music went up like a flight of pretty birds. He touched the keys like a man moving his hands among the weeds of a wild garden, startling up great soarings of beauty into the hills.
Muzika uspokoji vazduh. Mirisala je svežim dahom jutra. Odluta u planine i strese prah minerala prašnjavom kišom.	The music calmed the air. It smelled the fresh smell of morning. The music drifted into the mountains and shook down mineral powders in a dusty rain.
Očevi su čekali.	The Fathers waited.
"Pa, Oče Perigrine." Otac Stoun je gledao u prazno nebo gde se dizalo sunce, crveno kao grotlo visoke peći. "Ja ne vidim naše prijatelje."	“Well, Father Peregrine.” Father Stone eyed the empty sky where the sun was rising, furnace-red. “I don’t see our friends.”
"Da pokušam opet." Otac Perigrin se preznojavao.	“Let me try again.” Father Peregrine was perspiring.
Onda sagradi jednu Bahovu građevinu, savršen kamen po kamen, podiže tako ogromnu muzičku katedralu da su joj najdalji brodovi bili u Ninivi, a najudaljenija kupola s leve strane Svetog Petra. Kada se završi, muzika ostade i ne rasturi se među ruševinama već se spoji sa nizom belih oblaka i bi odneta u druge krajeve.	He built an architecture of Each, stone by exquisite stone, raising a music cathedral so vast that its furthest chancels were in Nineveh, its furthest dome at St. Peter’s left hand. The music stayed and did not crash in ruin when it was over, but partook of a series of white clouds and was carried away among other lands.
Nebo je i dalje bilo prazno.	The sky was still empty.
"Doći će oni!" Ali Otac Perigrin je osećao paniku, najpre vrlo laku, kako mu raste u grudima. "Molimo se. Molimo ih da dođu. Oni čitaju misli; oni znaju."	“They’ll come!” But Father Peregrine felt the panic in his chest, very small, growing. “Let us pray. Let us ask them to come. They read minds; they know.”
Očevi se ponovo spustiše na tle, šuškajući i šapćući. Molili su se.	The Fathers lowered themselves yet again, in rustlings and whispers. They prayed.
I na Istoku, iz ledenih planina u sedam sati u nedelju ujutru ili možda četvrtak izjutra, ili ponedeljak izjutra na Marsu, pojaviše se nežne vatrene lopte.	And to the East, out of the icy mountains of seven o’clock on Sunday morning or perhaps Thursday morning or maybe Monday morning on Mars, came the soft fiery globes.
Lebdele su i spuštale se, i ispuniše prostor oko uzdrhtalih sveštenika. "Hvala ti; oh, hvala ti, Gospode." Otac Perigrin čvrsto zatvori oči i odsvira muziku, i kada je to bilo gotovo okrenu se i pogleda po svojoj čudesnoj pastvi.	They hovered and sank and filled the area around the shivering priests. “Thank you; oh, thank you, Lord.” Father Peregrine shut his eyes tight and played the music, and when it was done he turned and gazed upon his wondrous congregation.
Jedan glas mu dotače misao i taj glas reče:	And a voice touched his mind, and the voice said:
"Došli smo nakratko."	“We have come for a little while.”
"Možete ostati", reče Otac Perigrin.	“You may stay,” said Father Peregrine.
"Samo nakratko", reče mirno glas. "Došli smo da vam kažemo izvesne stvari. Trebalo je ranije da progovorimo. Ali smo se nadali da ćete možda produžiti svojim putem ako vas ne diramo."	“For a little while only,” said the voice quietly. “We have come to tell you certain things. We should have spoken sooner. But we had hoped that you might go on your way if left alone.”
Otac Perigrin krenu da govori, ali ga glas ućutka.	Father Peregrine started to speak, but the voice hushed him.
"Mi smo oni Stari", reče glas; ulazio je u njega kao plavo vazdušasto plamsanje i goreo mu u komorama glave. "Mi smo stari Marsovci koji su napustili svoje mermerne gradove i otišli u brda, napustivši materijalni život kojim su živeli. Tako smo veoma davno postali ovo što smo sada. Nekada smo bili ljudi, sa telima, nogama i rukama kao što su vaše. Legenda kaže da je jedan od nas, jedan dobar čovek, otkrio način kako da oslobodi čovekovu dušu i um, da ih oslobodi telesnih zala i melanholije, smrti i menjanja, loših raspoloženja i staračkih boljki - i tako smo poprimili izgled munje i plave vatre i od tada večito živimo na vetru i na nebu, u brdima, ni oholi ni nadmeni, ni bogati ni siromašni, ni strasni, ni hladni. Živimo odvojeni od onih koje smo ostavili za sobom, onih drugih ljudi ovog sveta, i zaboravilo se kako smo postali, postupak je izgubljen; ali mi nikada nećemo umreti, niti ćemo činiti zlo.	“We are the Old Ones,” the voice said, and it entered him like a blue gaseous flare and burned in the chambers of his head. “We are the old Martians, who left our marble cities and went into the hills, forsaking the material life we had lived. So very long ago we became these things that we now are. Once we were men, with bodies and legs and arms such as yours. The legend has it that one of us, a good man, discovered a way to free man’s soul and intellect, to free him of bodily ills and melancholies, of deaths and transfigurations, of ill humors and senilities, and so we took on the look of lightning and blue fire and have lived in the winds and skies and hills forever after that, neither prideful nor arrogant, neither rich nor poor, passionate nor cold. We have lived apart from those we left behind, those other men of this world, and how we came to be has been forgotten, the process lost; but we shall never die, nor do harm.
Odstranili smo grehe tela i živimo u Božijoj milosti. Ne žudimo ni za čim; svojine nemamo. Ne krademo, niti ubijamo, ne bludničimo, ne mrzimo. Živimo u sreći. Ne možemo se reprodukovati; ne jedemo niti pijemo, ne ratujemo. Kada su nam tela bila otklonjena lišeni smo svega čulnog i detinjastog, i svih telesnih grehova. Ostavili smo greh iza sebe, Oče Perigrine, i on je spaljen kao lišće u jesen, i nestao je kao zaprljan sneg gadne zime, kao muški i ženski cvetovi crveno-žutog proleća, nestao kao zadihane noći u najvrelije leto; naše vreme je umereno, a stanište nam je bogato mišlju."	We have put away the sins of the body and live in God’s grace. We covet no other property; we have no property. We do not steal, nor kill, nor lust, nor hate. We live in happiness. We cannot reproduce; we no not eat or drink or make war. All the sensualities and childishnesses and sins of the body were stripped away when our bodies were put aside. We have left sin behind, Father Peregrine, and it is burned like the leaves in the autumn, and it is gone like the soiled snow of an evil winter, and it is gone like the sexual flowers of a red-and-yellow spring, and it is gone like the panting nights of hottest summer, and our season is temperate and our clime is rich in thought.”
Otac Perigrin je sada stajao, jer ga je glas dodirivao takvom visinom da mu je gotovo razdirao čula. Zanos i vatra strujali su mu telom.	Father Peregrine was standing now, for the voice touched him at such a pitch that it almost shook him from his senses. It was an ecstasy and a fire washing through him.
"Želimo da vam kažemo da cenimo to što ste napravili ovo mesto za nas, ali ono nam nije potrebno, jer svaki od nas je sam sebi hram i nije mu potrebno nikakvo mesto gde bi se pročišćavao. Oprostite nam što vam ranije nismo došli, ali mi smo odvojeni i po strani i ni sa kim nismo razgovarali već deset hiljada godina, niti smo se na bilo kakav način mešali u život ove planete. Mi se ne plašimo, niti jurimo za ma čim. Dajemo vam za pravo. I zato vam predlažemo da odnesete delove ovog hrama u vaše nove gradove, i tamo pročišćavate druge od greha. Jer, budite uvereni, mi smo srećni i živimo u miru."	“We wish to tell you that we appreciate your building this place for us, but we have no need of it, for each of us is a temple unto himself and needs no place wherein to cleanse himself. Forgive us for not coming to you sooner, but we are separate and apart and have talked to no one for ten thousand years, nor have we interfered in any way with the life of this planet. It has come into your mind now that we are the lilies of the field; we toil not, neither do we spin. You are right. And so we suggest that you take the parts of this temple into your own new cities and there cleanse others. For, rest assured, we are happy and at peace.

Očevi su klečali obasjani štedrom plavom svetlošću, Otac Perigrin je takođe bio na kolenima, i plakali su, i nisu žalali što su izgubili vreme; to im uopšte nije bilo važno.	The Fathers were on their knees in the vast blue light, and Father Peregrine was down, too, and they were weeping, and it did not matter that their time had been wasted; it did not matter to them at all.
Plave kugle su mrmorile, onda počeše opet da se dižu, sa daškom prohladnog vazduha.	The blue spheres murmured and began to rise once more, on a breath of cool air.
"Mogu li", uzviknu Otac Perigrin, ne usuđujući se da pita, sa zatvorenim očima, "mogu li opet da dođem; jednom, da se učim od vas?"	“May I”—cried Father Peregrine, not daring to ask, eyes closed—”may I come again, someday, that I may learn from you?”
Plave vatre blesnuše. Vazduh je treperio.	The blue fires blazed. The air trembled.
Da. Negde u budućnosti mogao bi da dođe. Negde u budućnosti.	Yes. Someday he might come again. Someday.
Onda se Vatreni baloni oduvaše i nestadoše, a on ostade kao dete, na kolenima, dok su mu se suze slivale iz očiju. "Vratite se, vratite se!" Svakog trena Deda bi ga mogao podići i odneti uza stepenice u njegovu spavaću sobu u davno nestalom gradu u Ohaju...	And then the Fire Balloons blew away and were gone, and he was like a child, on his knees, tears streaming from his eyes, crying to himself, “Come back, come back!” And at any moment Grandfather might lift him and carry him upstairs to his bedroom in a long-gone Ohio town. . . .
O zalasku sunca siđoše u koloni sa brda. Osvrćući se, Otac Perigrin je video plave vatre kako gore. Ne, mislio je, ne bismo mi mogli da izgradimo crkvu za takve kao što ste vi. Vi ste sušta Lepota. Koja bi se crkva mogla nadmetati sa plamenom čiste duše?	They filed down out of the hills at sunset. Looking back, Father Peregrine saw the blue fires burning. No, he thought, we couldn’t build a church for the likes of you. You’re Beauty itself. What church could compete with the fireworks of the pure soul?
Otac Stoun je ćuteći išao pored njega. Najzad progovori:	Father Stone moved in silence beside him. And at last he spoke:
"Kako ja to vidim, Istina postoji na svakoj planeti. Svi delovi Velike istine. Određenog dana oni će se svi spojiti kao delovi mozaika. Ovo je bio potresan doživljaj. Nikada više neću sumnjati, Oče Perigrine. Jer ova Istina ovde je isto tako prava kao i Istina na Zemlji, i one leže jedna uz drugu. A mi ćemo produžiti na ostale svetove, sabiraćemo delove Istine sve dok jednoga dana ceo Zbir ne bude pred nama kao svetlost novog dana."	“The way I see it is there’s a Truth on every planet. All parts of the Big Truth. On a certain day they’ll all fit together like the pieces of a jigsaw. This has been a shaking experience. I’ll never doubt again, Father Peregrine. For this Truth here is as true as Earth’s Truth, and they lie side by side. And we’ll go on to other worlds, adding the sum of the parts of the Truth until one day the whole Total will stand before us like the light of a new day.”
"To je puno, s obzirom na to da je od tebe, Oče Stoune."	“That’s a lot, coming from you, Father Stone.”
"Sada mi je žao, u neku ruku, što silazimo u grad da radimo sa svojom vrstom. One plave svetlosti. Kada su se spustile oko nas, pa onaj glas..." Otac Stoun uzdrhta.	“I’m sorry now, in a way, we’re going down to the town to handle our own kind. Those blue lights now. When they settled about us, and that voice . . .” Father Stone shivered.
Otac Perigrin ga prihvati za ruku. Hodali su uporedo.	Father Peregrine reached out to take the other’s arm. They walked together.
"I znaš", reče najzad Otac Stoun zadržavajući pogled na Bratu Matiji, koji je koračao pred njima sa staklenom kuglom koju je nežno nosio u rukama, onom staklenom kuglom sa plavom fosfornom svetlošću koja će večito sijati u njoj, "znaš, Oče Perigrine, ta kugla tu..."	“And you know,” said Father Stone finally, fixing his eyes on Brother Mathias, who strode ahead with the glass sphere tenderly carried in his arms, that glass sphere with the blue phosphorous light glowing forever inside it, “you know, Father Peregrine, that globe there——”
"Da?"	“Yes?”
"To je On. To je On, na kraju krajeva."	“It’s Him. It is Him, after all.”
Otac Perigrin se osmehnu. Spuštali su se sa brda ka novom gradu.	Father Peregrine smiled, and they walked down out of the hills toward the new town.

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