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Название книги: The Snail on the Slope
Автор(ы): Стругацкие Аркадий и Борис
Жанр: Фантастика
Адрес книги: http://www.6lib.ru/books/The_Snail_on_the_Slope-29100.html
Boris and Arkady Strugatsky. The snail on the slope
Chapter One From this height, the forest was like foam, luxuriant and blotchy, a gigantic world-encompassing porous sponge, like an animal waiting in concealment, now fallen asleep and overgrown with rough moss. A formless mask hiding a face, as yet revealed to none.
Pepper shook off his sandals and sat down with his bare legs dangling over the precipice. It seemed to him that his heels at once became damp, as if he had actually immersed them in the warm lilac fog that lay banked up in the shadows under the cliff. He fished out the pebbles he had collected from his pocket and laid them out neatly beside him. He then selected the smallest and gently tossed it down into the living and silent, slumbering, all-enveloping indifference, and the white spark was extinguished, and nothing happened-no branch trembled, no eye half-opened to glance up.
If he were to throw a pebble every one and a half minutes, and if what the one-legged cook,
Название книги: The Snail on the Slope
Автор(ы): Стругацкие Аркадий и Борис
Жанр: Фантастика
Адрес книги: http://www.6lib.ru/books/The_Snail_on_the_Slope-29100.html
Boris and Arkady Strugatsky. The snail on the slope
Chapter One From this height, the forest was like foam, luxuriant and blotchy, a gigantic world-encompassing porous sponge, like an animal waiting in concealment, now fallen asleep and overgrown with rough moss. A formless mask hiding a face, as yet revealed to none.
Pepper shook off his sandals and sat down with his bare legs dangling over the precipice. It seemed to him that his heels at once became damp, as if he had actually immersed them in the warm lilac fog that lay banked up in the shadows under the cliff. He fished out the pebbles he had collected from his pocket and laid them out neatly beside him. He then selected the smallest and gently tossed it down into the living and silent, slumbering, all-enveloping indifference, and the white spark was extinguished, and nothing happened-no branch trembled, no eye half-opened to glance up.
If he were to throw a pebble every one and a half minutes, and if what the one-legged cook,
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