Summary of Aelite by chapter. Connection with other works

Strange ad

A strange advertisement appeared on Krasnye Zori Street: a small piece of gray paper nailed to the peeling wall of a deserted house. American newspaper correspondent Archibald Skiles, passing by, saw a barefoot young woman in a neat cotton dress standing in front of the advertisement; she read, moving her lips. Her tired and sweet face did not express surprise - her eyes were indifferent, blue, with a crazy look. She tucked a lock of wavy hair behind her ear, picked up a basket of greens from the sidewalk, and walked across the street.

The announcement deserved more attention. Skyles, curious, read it, moved closer, ran his hand over his eyes, and read it again.

“Twenty three,” he finally said, which should have meant: “To hell with my guts.”

The ad read:

“Engineer M.S. Los invites those who wish to fly with him to the planet Mars on August 18 to come for personal negotiations from 6 to 8 pm. Zhdanovskaya embankment, house 11, in the courtyard.”

It was written in an ordinary and simple manner, with an ordinary ink pencil.

Involuntarily, Skiles took his pulse: normal. I looked at the chronometer: it was ten minutes past five, August 14, 192....

With calm courage, Skiles expected everything in this crazy city. But the notice nailed to the peeling wall had an effect on him. highest degree painful.

The wind was blowing along the deserted street of Krasnye Zori. The windows of multi-storey buildings, some broken, others boarded up, seemed uninhabited - not a single head looked out onto the street. A young woman, having placed her basket on the sidewalk, stood on the other side of the street and looked at Skiles. Cute face hers was calm and tired.

Skyles's cheekbones began to move. He took out an old envelope and wrote down Moose's address. At this time, a tall, broad-shouldered man, without a hat, dressed like a soldier, in a cloth shirt without a belt, in windings, stopped in front of the announcement. Having nothing else to do, his hands were stuck in his pockets. The strong back of his head tensed as he began to read the advertisement.

- This one - swung like this - towards Mars! – he said with pleasure and turned his tanned, carefree face towards Skyles. There was a white scar running diagonally across his temple. The eyes are bluish-brown and just like that woman’s, with a sparkle. (Skyles had long ago noticed this sparkle in Russian eyes and even mentioned it in an article: “...The lack of certainty in their eyes, now mockery, now insane determination, and, finally, an incomprehensible expression of superiority - has an extremely painful effect on European man".) “But it’s very simple to take him and fly with him,” the soldier said again, and grinned innocently, and at the same time quickly looked Skiles from head to toe.

Suddenly he narrowed his eyes and the smile disappeared from his face. He looked carefully across the street at the barefoot woman, still standing motionless near the basket.

Nodding his chin, he told her:

- Masha, why are you standing there? (She blinked quickly.) Well, I would go home. (She stepped on her small dusty feet, sighed, and bowed her head.) Go, go, I'll be there soon.

The woman picked up the basket and walked away. The soldier said:

“I left the reserve due to concussion and injury. I walk around and read advertisements, and I’m so bored.

– Are you thinking about following this ad? – Skyles asked.

- I'll definitely go.

“But it’s nonsense to fly fifty million kilometers in empty space.”

– What can I say – it’s far away.

- This is charlatanism or nonsense.

- Anything is possible.

Skiles, also now squinting, looked at the soldier who was looking at him exactly like that: with mockery, with an incomprehensible expression of superiority, he flushed angrily and walked towards the Neva. He walked confidently and widely. In the park he sat down on a bench, put his hand in his pocket, where, right in his pocket, like an old smoker and business man, tobacco lay, in one movement thumb filled his pipe, lit a cigarette and stretched his legs.

The old linden trees rustled in the park. The air was humid and warm. On a pile of sand, alone in the whole square, apparently for a long time, sat a little boy in a dirty shirt with polka dots and no pants. The wind lifted his light and soft hair from time to time. In his hand he held the end of a rope; to the other end of the rope an old, disheveled crow was tied by the leg. She sat dissatisfied and angry and, like the boy, looked at Skiles.

Suddenly - it was for a moment - as if a cloud slid over his consciousness, his head began to spin: was he seeing all this in a dream?.. A boy, a crow, empty houses, deserted streets, strange looks from passers-by and an announcement nailed with nails - an invitation to fly to the world space...

Skiles took a deep drag on the strong tobacco. He unfolded the map of Petrograd and, moving the end of the tube along it, found Zhdanovskaya embankment.

In Moose's workshop

Skiles entered the yard, which was littered with rusty iron and cement barrels. Stunted grass grew on piles of garbage, between tangled balls of wire, broken parts of machines. In the depths of the courtyard, the dusty windows of a tall barn reflected the sunset. The small door was ajar, and a worker was squatting on the threshold, stirring red lead in a bucket. When Skiles asked if Engineer Moose could be seen, the worker nodded toward the inside of the barn. Skiles entered.

The barn was barely lit - above a table littered with drawings and books, an electric light bulb burned in a tin cone. In the depths of the barn, forests rose to the ceiling. Here a furnace was blazing, fanned by a worker. Through the piles of scaffolding, the metallic surface of the spherical body, with frequent riveting, glittered. Through the open halves of the gate one could see the crimson stripes of the sunset and clouds of clouds rising from the sea.

The worker blowing the forge said in a low voice:

- To you, Mstislav Sergeevich.

A powerfully built man of average height appeared from behind the scaffolding. His thick, cap-like hair was white. The face is young, shaved, with a beautiful large mouth, with intent, bright, unblinking eyes that seemed to fly in front of the face. He was wearing a dirty canvas shirt, open at the chest, and patched trousers, belted with a rope. In his hand he held a stained drawing. As he approached, he tried to button his shirt on his chest with a non-existent button.

-Are you following an advertisement? Do you want to fly? - he asked in a dull voice and, pointing to Skyles to a chair under the cone of a light bulb, sat down opposite the table, put down the drawing and began to fill his pipe. This was the engineer Mstislav Sergeevich Los.

Lowering his eyes, he lit a match; a light illuminated his strong face from below, two wrinkles at his mouth - bitter folds, a wide cut of nostrils, long dark eyelashes. Skiles was pleased with the inspection. He explained that he was not going to fly, but that he had read an advertisement on Krasnye Zori Street and considered it his duty to introduce his readers to such an extraordinary and sensational project of interplanetary communication.

The moose listened without taking his eyes off his unblinking light eyes.

“It’s a pity that you don’t want to fly with me, it’s a pity,” he shook his head, “people shy away from me like I’m mad.” Four days later I leave the earth and still cannot find a companion. “He lit the match again and blew out a puff of smoke. – What data do you need?

– The most salient features of your biography.

“Nobody needs this,” said Elk, “nothing remarkable.” He studied for pennies, on his own two feet from the age of twelve. Youth, years of study, work, service - not a single feature that is curious for your readers, nothing remarkable, except ... - The elk suddenly frowned, the wrinkles around his mouth became sharply visible. “Well, so... I’ve been working on this machine for a long time,” he pointed his pipe towards the scaffolding. Construction began two years ago. All!

– In approximately how many months do you expect to cover the distance between Earth and Mars? - Skyles asked, looking at the tip of the pencil.

- At nine or ten o'clock, I think, no more.

STRANGE ANNOUNCEMENT

At four o'clock in the afternoon, in St. Petersburg, on Krasnykh Zori Avenue, a strange announcement appeared - a small piece of gray paper, nailed

Carnations to the peeling wall of a deserted house.
A correspondent for an American newspaper, Archibald Skiles, passing by, saw a barefoot, young woman standing in front of the advertisement, wearing chintz,

A neat dress,” she read, moving her lips. The tired and sweet face of the woman did not express surprise - her eyes were indifferent, clear,

Crazy. She tucked a lock of wavy hair behind her ear, picked up a basket of greens from the sidewalk, and walked across the street.
The announcement deserved great attention. Skiles, curious, read it, moved closer, ran his hand over his eyes, and read it again:
“Twenty three,” he said finally, which should have meant:
"To hell with my bones."
The ad read:
“The engineer, M.S. Los, invites those who wish to fly with him on August 18 to the planet Mars to come for personal negotiations from 6 to 8 pm.

Zhdanovskaya embankment, house 11, in the courtyard."
It was written - ordinary and simply, with an ordinary ink pencil. Involuntarily, Skyles took his pulse - the usual one. Looked at

Chronometer: it was ten minutes past four, the hand of the red dial showed August 14th.
With calm courage, Skiles expected everything in this crazy city.
But the notice, nailed to the peeling wall, had an extremely painful effect on him. The wind blew across the desert

Red Dawns Avenue. The windows of multi-storey buildings, some broken, others boarded up, seemed uninhabited - not a single head looked out

The street. A young woman, having placed her basket on the sidewalk, stood on the other side of the street and looked at Skiles. Her sweet face was calm and tired.
Skyles's cheekbones began to move. He took out an old envelope and wrote down Moose's address. At this time, a tall man stopped in front of the announcement,

A broad-shouldered man, without a hat, dressed like a soldier, in a shirt without a belt, in windings. His hands were stuck in his pockets from idleness. Strong

A white scar ran across him, diagonally. The eyes are lazy, gray-brown, and just like that woman, there is a tanned, carefree face like that of Skyles. On the temple

A white scar ran across him, diagonally. The eyes are lazy, gray-brown, and just like that woman’s, with a sparkle. (Skyles had long ago noticed this spark in

Russian eyes, and even mentioned her in the article: ... "The lack of certainty in their eyes, instability, t - But take it and fly with him,

“Very simple,” the soldier said again and grinned innocently, and at the same time quickly looked Skiles from head to toe. Suddenly he squinted,

The smile disappeared from my face. He looked carefully across the street at the barefoot woman, still standing motionless near the basket. Nodding his chin, he

Told her:
- Masha, why are you standing there? (She blinked quickly.) Well, I would go home. (She stepped on her dusty, small feet, and one could see how she sighed,

She bowed her head.) Go, go, I'll be there soon.
The woman picked up the basket and walked away. The soldier said:
- I left the reserve due to concussion and injury.

Current page: 1 (book has 12 pages total) [available reading passage: 7 pages]

Alexey Nikolaevich Tolstoy
Aelita

STRANGE ANNOUNCEMENT

At four o'clock in the afternoon, in St. Petersburg, on Krasnye Zori Avenue, a strange advertisement appeared - a small piece of gray paper nailed to the peeling wall of a deserted house.

An American newspaper correspondent, Archibald Skiles, passing by, saw a barefoot, young woman standing in front of the advertisement, in a neat cotton dress - she was reading, moving her lips. The tired and sweet face of the woman did not express surprise - her eyes were indifferent, clear, with a crazy look. She tucked a lock of wavy hair behind her ear, picked up a basket of greens from the sidewalk, and walked across the street.

The announcement deserved a lot of attention. Skyles, curious, read it, moved closer, ran his hand over his eyes, and read it again:

“Twenty-three,” he said finally, which should have meant: “To hell with my bones.”

The ad read:

“The engineer, M.S. Los, invites those who want to fly with him on August 18 to the planet Mars to come for personal negotiations from 6 to 8 pm. Zhdanovskaya embankment, house 11, in the courtyard.”

It was written - ordinary and simply, with an ordinary ink pencil. Involuntarily, Skyles took his pulse—the usual one. I looked at the chronometer: it was ten minutes past four, the hand of the red dial showed August 14th.

With calm courage, Skiles expected everything in this crazy city. But the notice, nailed to the peeling wall, had an extremely painful effect on him. The wind was blowing along the deserted Red Dawns Avenue. The windows of multi-story buildings, some broken, others boarded up, seemed uninhabited—not a single head looked out into the street. The young woman, having placed her basket on the sidewalk, stood on the other side of the street and looked at Skiles. Her sweet face was calm and tired.

Skyles's cheekbones began to move. He took out an old envelope and wrote down Moose's address. At this time, a tall, broad-shouldered man, without a hat, dressed like a soldier, in a shirt without a belt, in windings, stopped in front of the announcement. His hands were stuck in his pockets from idleness. The strong back of his head tensed as he began to read the advertisement:

- This one, like that, swung at Mars! – he said with pleasure and turned his tanned, carefree face towards Skyles. On his temple, diagonally, there was a white scar. The eyes are lazy, gray-brown, and just like that woman’s, with a sparkle. (Skyles had long noticed this sparkle in Russian eyes, and even mentioned it in an article: ... “The lack of certainty in their eyes, instability, now mockery, now insane determination, and, finally, an incomprehensible expression of superiority - have an extremely painful effect on a fresh person ".)

“But it’s very simple to take him and fly with him,” the soldier said again and grinned innocently, and at the same time quickly looked Skiles from head to toe. Suddenly he narrowed his eyes and the smile disappeared from his face. He looked carefully across the street at the barefoot woman, still standing motionless near the basket. Nodding his chin, he told her:

- Masha, why are you standing there? (She blinked quickly.) Well, I would go home. (She stepped on her dusty, small feet, and you could see how she sighed and bowed her head.) Go, go, I’ll be there soon.

The woman picked up the basket and walked away. The soldier said:

“I left the reserve due to concussion and injury. I walk around and read the signs, and I’m so bored.

– Are you thinking about following this ad? - Skyles asked...

- I'll definitely go.

“But it’s nonsense to fly fifty million kilometers in airless space...”

– What can I say – it’s far away.

- This is charlatanism, or nonsense.

- Anything is possible.

Skiles, also now squinting, looked at the soldier, flushed angrily and walked towards the Neva - he walked confidently and widely. In the park he sat down on a bench, put his hands in his pocket, where right in his pocket, like an old smoker and business man, lay tobacco, with one movement of his thumb he filled his pipe, lit a cigarette and stretched his legs.

The old linden trees rustled in the park. The air was humid and warm. On a pile of sand, alone in the whole square, apparently for a long time, sat a little boy in a dirty shirt with polka dots and no pants. The wind lifted, from time to time, his light and soft hair. In his hand he held the end of a rope; to the other end of the rope an old, disheveled crow was tied by the leg. She sat dissatisfied and angry, and, just like the boy, looked at Skiles.

Suddenly - it was for a moment - as if a cloud slid over his consciousness, it became strange, his head began to spin: was he seeing all this in a dream?... A boy, a crow, empty houses, deserted streets, strange looks from passersby and an advertisement nailed with nails, – someone is calling to fly from this city to the starry desert.

Skiles took a deep drag of the strong tobacco. He grinned. He unfolded the plan of St. Petersburg, and, moving the end of the tube along it, found Zhdanovskaya embankment.

IN THE WORKSHOP OF THE MOOSE

Skiles entered a poorly paved courtyard littered with rusty iron and cement barrels. Stunted grass grew on piles of garbage, between tangled balls of wires, broken parts of machines. In the depths of the courtyard, the dusty windows of a tall barn reflected the sunset. The small door was ajar, and a worker was squatting on the threshold, stirring brick-red red lead in a bucket. When Skyles asked if engineer Elk could be seen here, the worker nodded into the barn. Skiles entered.

The barn was barely lit; above the table, littered with drawings and books, an electric light bulb in a tin cone was burning. In the depths of the barn, forests rose to the ceiling. Here a furnace was blazing, fanned by a worker. Through the beams of the scaffolding, the metal, often riveted, surface of a spherical body glittered. Through the open halves of the gate one could see the crimson stripes of sunset and clouds of clouds rising from the sea.

The worker blowing the forge said in a low voice:

- To you, Mstislav Sergeevich.

From behind the scaffolding a medium-sized, strongly built man appeared. His thick, cap-shaped hair was snow-white. The face is young, shaved, with a beautiful, large mouth, with intent, bright, unblinking eyes that seemed to fly in front of the face. He was wearing a dirty canvas shirt, open at the chest, and patched pants, tied with a rope. In his hand he held a dirty, torn drawing. As he approached, he tried to button his shirt on his chest, using a non-existent button.

-Are you following an advertisement? Do you want to fly? - he asked in a dull voice, and pointed to Skyles a chair under the cone of a light bulb, sat down opposite the table, threw down the drawing and began to fill his pipe. This was the engineer, M.S. Los.

Lowering his eyes, he lit a pipe - the match illuminated his strong face from below, two wrinkles at his mouth - bitter folds, a wide cut of nostrils, long, dark eyelashes. Skiles was pleased with the inspection. He explained that he was not going to fly, but that he had read an advertisement on Krasnye Zori Avenue and considered it his duty to introduce his readers to such an extraordinary and sensational project of interplanetary communication. The elk listened, without taking his unblinking, light eyes off him.

“It’s a pity that you don’t want to fly with me, it’s a pity,” he shook his head, “people shy away from me like I’m mad.” After four days I leave the earth, and still cannot find a companion. “He lit the match again and blew out a puff of smoke. – What data do you need?

– The most salient features of your biography.

“Nobody needs this,” said Elk, “nothing remarkable.” I studied with copper money, and I’ve been earning it myself since I was twelve. Youth, years of study, poverty, work, service, for thirty-five years - not a single feature that is curious for your readers, nothing remarkable, except ... - The elk stretched out his lower lip, suddenly frowned, the wrinkles around his mouth became sharply visible. “Well, so... I’ve been working on this machine,” he pointed his pipe towards the scaffolding, “for a long time.” Construction began a year ago. All?

– In approximately how many months do you expect to cover the distance between the earth and Mars? - Skyles asked, looking at the tip of the pencil.

– At nine or ten o’clock, I think, no more.

Skyles said to this, “yeah,” then he blushed, the nodules on his cheekbones began to move: “I would be very grateful to you,” he said with insinuating politeness, “if you had confidence in me and a serious attitude towards our interview.”

Elk put his elbows on the table, wrapped himself in smoke, his eyes flashed through the tobacco smoke:

“On August 18, Mars will approach the earth forty million kilometers,” he said, “I must fly this distance.” What does it consist of? First, the height of the earth’s atmosphere is 75 kilometers. Secondly, the distance between the planets in airless space is 40 million kilometers. Third, the height of the atmosphere of Mars is 65 kilometers. For my flight, only these 135 kilometers of air are important.

He stood up, put his hands in his pants pockets, his head was drowned in shadow, in smoke - only his open chest and hairy arms with sleeves rolled up to the elbows were illuminated:

– Usually called flight – the flight of a bird, a falling leaf, an airplane. But this is not flying, but floating in the air. Pure flight is a fall when the body moves under the influence of a pushing force. An example is a rocket. In airless space, where there is no resistance, where nothing interferes with the flight, the rocket will move at an ever-increasing speed, obviously, there I can reach the speed of light, if not interfered magnetic influences. My device is built precisely on the principle of a rocket. I will have to fly 135 kilometers in the atmosphere of the earth and Mars. With ascent and descent it will take an hour and a half. I set aside an hour to get out of the gravity of the earth. Further, in airless space I can fly at any speed. But there are two dangers: excessive acceleration can burst the blood vessels, and secondly, if I am pulled into the atmosphere of Mars with great speed, then hitting the air will be similar to being stuck in the sand. Instantly the device and everything in it will turn into gas. In interstellar space there are fragments of planets, unborn or dead worlds. Sticking into the air, they burn instantly. Air is almost impenetrable armor. Although, on earth, it was once broken.

Moose took his hand out of his pocket, placed it, palm up, on the table, under the light bulb, and clenched his fingers into a fist:

- In Siberia, among eternal ice, I dug up mammoths that died in the cracks of the earth. They had grass between their teeth; they grazed where there is now ice. I ate their meat. They didn't have time to decompose. They froze in a few days - they were covered with snow. Apparently, the deviation of the earth's axis occurred instantly. The earth has collided with a huge celestial body, or we had a second satellite, smaller than the moon. We pulled it in and it fell, broke the earth's crust, and deflected the poles. Perhaps it was from this blow that the continent lying to the west of Africa in Atlantic Ocean. So, in order not to melt while piercing the atmosphere of Mars, I will have to slow down greatly. Therefore, I allow six to seven hours for the entire flight in airless space. In a few years, traveling to Mars will be no more difficult than flying from Moscow to Berlin.

The moose moved away from the table and turned on the switch. The ceiling hissed and the arc lights lit up. Skiles saw drawings, diagrams, maps on the board walls. Shelves with optical and measuring instruments. Spacesuits, piles of canned food, fur clothes. The telescope is on the ladder in the corner of the barn.

Moose and Skyles approached the scaffolding that surrounded the metal egg. By eye, Skyles determined that the egg-shaped apparatus was at least eight and a half meters high and six meters across. In the middle, along its circumference, there was a steel belt, bending downwards towards the surface of the device, like an umbrella - this was a parachute brake, increasing the resistance of the device when falling in the air. Under the parachute there are three round doors - entrance hatches. The lower part of the egg ended in a narrow throat. It was surrounded by a double, massive steel, round spiral, coiled into opposite sides, – buffer. That's how it was appearance interplanetary airship.

Tapping the riveted shell of the egg with a pencil, Moose began to explain the details. The device was built from soft and refractory steel, and was well reinforced inside with ribs and light trusses. This was the outer case. It contained a second case made of six layers of rubber, felt and leather. Inside this second, leather, quilted egg there were observation and movement devices, oxygen tanks, boxes for absorbing carbon dioxide, hollow cushions for tools and provisions. For observation, special “eyes” were installed extending beyond the outer shell of the apparatus, in the form of a short metal tube equipped with prismatic glasses.

The movement mechanism was placed in the throat, wrapped in a spiral. The throat was cast from Aubin metal, which is extremely elastic and has a hardness superior to astronomical bronze. Vertical channels were drilled into the thickness of the throat. Each of them expanded at the top into a so-called explosion chamber. A spark plug from a common magneto and a feeding tube are installed in each chamber. Just as gasoline enters the cylinders of an engine, in the same way the explosion chambers were powered by “Ultralyddite,” the finest powder, an explosive of extraordinary strength, found in 1920 in the laboratory of the ... plant in St. Petersburg. The power of "Ultralyddite" surpassed everything hitherto known in this field. The explosion cone is extremely narrow. In order for the axis of the explosion cone to coincide with the axes of the vertical channels of the throat, the Ultralyddite entering the explosion chambers was passed through a magnetic field. Such is the general outline, there was a principle of the driving mechanism: it was a rocket. The supply of Ultralyddite is one hundred hours. By decreasing or increasing the number of explosions per second, it was possible to regulate the rate of rise and fall of the apparatus. Its lower part is much heavier than the upper, therefore, when falling into the sphere of gravity of the planet, the device always turned its throat towards it.

– What funds were used to build the device? – Skyles asked.

– The government provided the materials. Some of my savings went towards this.

Moose and Skiles returned to the table. After some silence, Skyles asked hesitantly:

– Do you expect to find living beings on Mars?

– I offer you ten dollars for a line of travel impressions. Advance – six satires, two hundred lines each, the check can be accounted for in Stockholm. Do you agree?

The moose laughed and nodded his head, “I agree.” (Skyles sat down on the corner of the table to write a check.)

“It’s a pity, it’s a pity that you don’t want to fly with me: after all, it’s, in essence, so close, closer than to Stockholm.”

SATELLITE

The elk stood leaning his shoulder against the rope of the open gate. His phone went out.

Behind the gates to the Zhdanovka embankment lay a vacant lot. Several dim lanterns were reflected in the water. Far away, the trees of the park rose in vague and unclear outlines. Behind them the dull, sad sunset burned out and could not burn out. Long clouds, touched at the edges by its light, like islands, lay in the green waters of the sky. Above them the sky was turning blue and dark. Several stars lit up on it. It was quiet, the old way on the old land. From afar came the sound of a humming steamboat. A rat ran across the wasteland like a gray shadow.

The worker, Kuzmin, who had earlier been stirring the red lead in a bucket, also stood at the gate and threw the light of a cigarette into the darkness:

“It’s hard to part with the land,” he said quietly. “It’s even hard to part with the house.” From the village, you used to go to railway, - you’ll look around ten times. The house is a hut, covered with thatch, but its own, habitable place. Leaving the earth is a desert.

“The kettle has boiled,” said Khokhlov, another worker, “go, Kuzmin, drink tea.”

Kuzmin said: “That’s it,” with a sigh, and went to the forge. Khokhlov is a stern man, and Kuzmin sat down on boxes by the forge, and drank tea, carefully broke bread, tore it off bones. dried fish, chewed slowly. Kuzmin, squinting, shaking his thin beard, said in a low voice:

- I feel sorry for him. There are almost no such people now.

- Wait until the funeral service is performed.

- One pilot told me: he climbed eight miles, - in the summer, mind you - and the oil, nevertheless, froze in his apparatus - it was so cold. How about flying higher? And there it is cold. Dark.

“And I say, wait a little longer for the funeral service,” Khokhlov repeated gloomily.

“Nobody wants to fly with him, they don’t believe him.” The ad hangs for another week in vain.

“And I believe,” said Khokhlov.

- Will it fly?

- That's it, it will fly. Well, in Europe then they will rise up.

- Who will call?

- How, who will call? Our enemies will rise up. Now, take a bite - whose is Mars? - Russian.

- Yes, that would be great.

Kuzmin moved forward on the box. Moose came up, sat down, took a mug of steaming tea:

- Khokhlov, would you agree to fly with me?

“No, Mstislav Sergeevich,” Khokhlov answered importantly, “I don’t agree, I’m afraid.”

The elk grinned, took a sip of boiling water, and glanced sideways at Kuzmin:

- And you, dear friend?

– Mstislav Sergeevich, I would love to fly, my wife is sick, she doesn’t eat anything. If he eats a crumb, it’s all gone. So sad, so sad...

“Yes, apparently, you’ll have to fly alone,” said Elk, putting down his empty mug and wiping his lips with his palm, “there are not enough hunters to leave the earth.” He chuckled again and shook his head. Yesterday, a young lady came through an advertisement: “Okay,” she said, I’m flying with you, I’m 19 years old, I sing, dance, play the guitar, I don’t want to live in Europe, I’m tired of revolutions. Don't you need an exit visa? I still don’t understand what was in this young lady’s head. Our conversation ended,” the young lady sat down and began to cry: “You deceived me, I expected that I needed to fly much closer.” Then, a young man appeared, he said in a deep voice, his hands were sweaty: “You, he says, consider me an idiot, it’s impossible to fly to Mars, on what basis are you posting such advertisements?” I calmed him down forcibly.

The elk leaned his elbows on his knees and looked at the coals. His face at that moment seemed tired, his forehead wrinkled. Apparently, he was all resting from prolonged exertion of will. Kuzmin left with a kettle to get water. Khokhlov coughed and said:

– Mstislav Sergeevich, aren’t you scared yourself?

The elk turned his eyes to him, warmed by the heat of the coals:

- No, I'm not scared. I'm sure I'll land successfully. And if it fails, the blow will be instant and painless. Something else is scary. Imagine this - my calculations will turn out to be wrong, I will not fall into the gravity of Mars: - I will slip past. The supply of fuel, oxygen, food will last me a long time. And now I’m flying in the darkness. A star is burning ahead. In a thousand years, my frozen corpse will fly into her fiery oceans. But these thousand years are my corpse flying in the darkness! But these long days, while I am still alive - and I will live only in a damned box - are long days of hopeless despair - alone in the whole universe. It is not death that is terrible, but loneliness. There will be no hope that God will save my soul. I'm alive in hell. After all, hell is my hopeless loneliness, stretched out in eternal darkness. This is truly scary. I really don't want to fly alone.

The moose squinted at the coals. His mouth clenched stubbornly. Kuzmin appeared at the gate and called from there in a low voice:

- Mstislav Sergeevich, to you.

- Who? – The moose quickly stood up.

- Some soldier is asking you.

Following Kuzmin, a former soldier entered the barn, reading an advertisement on Krasnye Zori Avenue. He nodded briefly to Elk, looked back at the forests, and went up to the table:

- Do you need a travel companion?

Moose pulled out a chair for him and sat down opposite him.

- Yes, I'm looking for a travel companion. I'm flying to Mars.

- I know, it says in the ad. This star was shown to me just now. Far away, of course. What conditions did I want to know: salary, food?

-Are you a family member?

- Married, no children.

The soldier was busily tapping the table with his nails and looking around with curiosity. The elk briefly told him about the flight conditions and warned him about the possible risk. He offered to provide for the family and pay the salary in advance in money and food. The soldier nodded and agreed, but listened absentmindedly.

“Do you know,” he asked, “are there people there, or monsters?”

The elk scratched the back of his head tightly and laughed:

– In my opinion, there must be people there. We'll come and see. The point is this: for several years now, large radio stations in Europe and America have begun to receive incomprehensible signals. At first they thought that these were traces of storms in magnetic fields land. But the mysterious sounds were too similar to elementary signals. Someone insistently wants to talk to us. Where? Life has not yet been established on planets other than Mars. Signals can only come from Mars. Take a look at its map - it is covered with canals like a grid. Apparently, there is an opportunity to install a hugely powerful radio station there. Mars wants to talk to the earth. We cannot yet respond to these signals. But we fly to the call. It is difficult to imagine that radio stations on Mars were built by monsters, creatures not like us. Mars and earth are two tiny balls circling side by side. Same laws for us and for them. Life-giving dust, seeds of life frozen in suspended animation, are floating around the universe. The same seeds settle on Mars and on the earth, on all the myriads of cooling stars. Life arises everywhere, and the humanoid reigns over life everywhere: it is impossible to create an animal more perfect than man - the image and likeness of the Master of the Universe.

“I’m going with you,” the soldier said decisively, “when should I come with my things?”

- Tomorrow. I must introduce you to the device. What is your first name, middle name, last name?

– Alexey Gusev, Alexey Ivanovich.

- Class?

Gusev, as if absentmindedly, looked at Los, and lowered his eyes to his fingers tapping on the table.

“I’m literate,” he said, “I know a car well.” Flew on an airplane as an observer. I've been involved in war since I was eighteen years old - that's all I do. Over twenty wounds. Now I'm in reserve. He suddenly rubbed the crown of his head with his palm and laughed briefly. - Well, that’s how things were over these seven years. To be honest, I should now be commanding a regiment, my character is quarrelsome. The hostilities will stop - I can’t sit still: it sucks. Everything in me is poisoned. I’ll ask to go on a business trip, or I’ll run away. - He rubbed the top of his head again, grinned, - he established four republics, in Siberia and the Caucasus, and I don’t remember these cities now. One time I gathered three hundred guys and went to fight in India. We wanted to get there. But they got lost in the mountains, got caught in a snowstorm, fell under landslides, and got their horses beaten. Not many of us returned from there. Makhno had two months, by God. They drove across the steppe in troikas and carts - go for a walk! Wine, food - plenty, women - as much as you want. We'll attack the whites or the reds - we have machine guns on the carts - a fight. We’ll recapture the convoy, and by evening we’ll be over eighty miles away. We took a walk. I'm tired of it - it's of little use, and even the men are starting to get tired of this Makhnovshchina. He joined the Red Army. Then the Poles were driven away from Kyiv - here I was in Budyonny’s cavalry. The entire hike is at a trot. They beat the Poles on the fly - “Give it to Warsaw!” But they made a mistake near Warsaw - the infantry did not support. IN last time I was wounded when Perekop was taken. After that, I spent almost a year in the infirmary. I've been discharged - where to go? Then this girl of mine turned up and got married. I have a good wife, I feel sorry for her, but I can’t live at home. To go to the village - my father and mother died, my brothers were killed, the land was abandoned. There is nothing to do in the city either. There is no war now - it is not expected. Please, Mstislav Sergeevich, take me with you. I will be useful to you on Mars.

“Well, I’m very glad,” said Elk, giving him his hand, “see you tomorrow.”

A young engineer named Los designed a steel aircraft in the shape of an egg for an expedition to Mars. Following his announcement, an American journalist came to him and asked the engineer to do something for him during his trip for a certain fee. travel notes. The moose, without hesitation, agreed. Soldier Gusev was planning to fly with him. Accustomed to constant wars and uprisings, he was bored Peaceful time. Even his beloved wife could not hold him back. Moose decided on this dangerous undertaking because he could not get rid of his longing for his dead wife.

At the risk of his life, Moose was able to pass the Moon, and ten hours later the device landed on Mars among a cactus field. From the individual destroyed buildings, travelers realized that there had once been fierce battles here.

At dawn, an unfamiliar flying ship appeared, and a Martian in black clothes with a blue face, together with armed companions, took the earthlings to a rich valley called Azora. The capital of this region was the city of Soatzer. They were met by a crowd of Martians, among them the travelers noticed a black-bearded man with a stern face.

Guests from Earth were accommodated in a beautiful mansion, the owner of which was the daughter of a black-bearded Martian, Aelita. It was beautiful slender girl with a bluish face and large ashen eyes. In a week, she taught earthlings the language of the Martians, using a special ball that reflected any memories.

While Gusev was getting acquainted with the estate and its inhabitants, Los quietly became friends with Aelita, she told him the history of her people. It turned out that twenty thousand years ago the Aol race lived on Mars. But soon Atlanteans appeared on their planet. These were the surviving representatives of the powerful state of Atlantis. They called themselves sons of heaven. The Atlanteans forced the Martians to work for themselves: building houses, laying canals, agriculture. But the Martians did not want to submit to the conquerors, so the war began. Later, the Aol race built the Sacred Threshold, which protected them from evil and violence. The Atlanteans took the daughters of Martians as wives. This is how the blue tribe appeared on the planet.

While engineer Los was talking with the girl, Gusev, with the help of the maid Ikha, learned that the ruler of Mars Tuskub, Aelita’s father, decided to poison earthlings. He ordered his daughter to add poison to the travelers' food.

At this time, a conflict arose in the city between supporters of Tuskub and workers led by engineer Gore. Gusev took part in the uprising. Moose stayed with Aelita because he realized that he was in love with her. To save him from his father, the girl flew with him to the mountains, to the sacred temple and, after an ancient ceremony, became his wife.

Tuskub, together with his supporters, surrounded the city and destroyed most rebels. The help that Elk provided to the workers could not change the situation. The young man decided to return to Earth and take Aelita with him, but he and the girl were captured by Tuskub warriors. It was only thanks to Gusev that the half-dead engineer was saved. The two of them reached their aircraft and headed towards Earth.

When the travelers returned home, Los began to construct a new device to fly to Mars again and find his beloved. One day Gusev came to him and reported that a powerful radio station was bringing unfamiliar signals to the Earth. The engineer put on his headphones and heard Aelita's distant voice.

The novel teaches the ability to dream and hope for the best, to believe in deep human feelings.