Ray Douglas Bradbury and thunder struck. "English with R

Ray Bradbury

A Sound of Thunder

* * *

The advertisement on the wall blurred, as if it had been covered in a film of sliding warm water; Eckels felt his eyelids closing and covering his pupils for a split second, but even in the instant darkness the letters glowed:

JSC SAFARI IN TIME

WE ORGANIZE A SAFARI ANY YEAR IN THE PAST

YOU CHOOSE YOUR PLAY

WE TAKE YOU TO YOUR PLACE

YOU ARE KILLING HER

– Do you guarantee that I will return from the safari alive?

“We don’t guarantee anything,” the employee answered, “except dinosaurs.” - He turned around. - Here is Mr. Travis, he will be your guide to the Past. He will tell you where and when to shoot. If he says “don’t shoot,” then don’t shoot. Do not follow his orders - upon your return you will pay a fine, another ten thousand, in addition, expect trouble from the government.

At the far end of the huge office room, Eckels saw something bizarre and indefinite, writhing and humming, an interweaving of wires and steel casings, an iridescent bright halo - now orange, now silver, now blue. The roar was as if Time itself was burning on a mighty fire, as if all the years, all the dates in the chronicles, all the days had been dumped into one heap and set on fire.

One touch of the hand - and immediately this combustion will obediently reverse. Eckels remembered every word of the ad. From ashes and ashes, from dust and ash, they will rise like golden salamanders, old years, green years, roses will sweeten the air, gray hair will turn black, wrinkles and folds will disappear, everything and everyone will turn back and become a seed, from death it will rush to its source , the suns will rise in the west and sink into the glow of the east, the moons will wane from the other end, everyone and everything will be like a chicken hiding in an egg, rabbits diving into a magician's hat, everyone and everything will know a new death, the death of the seed, the green death, the return in the time preceding conception. And this will be done with just one movement of the hand...

“Damn it,” Eckels breathed; the glare of light from the Machine flashed across his thin face. – A real time machine! – He shook his head. - Just think about it. If the elections had ended differently yesterday, I might have come here today to flee. Thank God Keith won. The United States will have a good president.

“Exactly,” responded the man behind the desk. - We were lucky. If Deutscher had been elected, we would not have escaped the most brutal dictatorship. This guy is against everything in the world - against the world, against faith, against humanity, against reason. People called us and inquired - jokingly, of course, but by the way... They say, if Deutscher is president, is it possible to move to 1492? But it’s not our business to organize escapes. We organize safari. One way or another, Kate is the president, and now you have one concern...

“...kill my dinosaur,” Eckels finished his sentence.

– Tyrannosaurus rex. Loud Lizard, the most disgusting monster in the history of the planet. Sign this. Whatever happens to you, we are not responsible. These dinosaurs have a voracious appetite.

Eckels flushed with indignation.

-Are you trying to scare me?

- To be honest, yes. We do not at all want to send into the past those who panic at the first shot. Six leaders and a dozen hunters died that year. We give you the opportunity to experience the most damned adventure that a real hunter can dream of. Journey back sixty million years and the greatest haul of all time! Here is your receipt. Tear it up.

Mr. Eckels looked at the check for a long time. His fingers were trembling.

“No fluff or feather,” said the man behind the desk. - Mr. Travis, take care of the client.

Carrying guns in their hands, they walked silently across the room towards the Machine, towards the silvery metal and rumbling light.

First day, then night, again day, again night; then day - night, day - night, day. Week, month, year, decade! 2055 2019, 1999! 1957! Past! The car roared.

They put on oxygen helmets and checked their headphones.

Eckels rocked on the soft seat, pale, teeth clenched. He felt a convulsive trembling in his hands, looked down and saw how his fingers squeezed the new gun. There were four others in the car. Travis is the safari leader, his assistant Lesperance and two hunters - Billings and Kremer. They sat looking at each other, and the years flashed past like flashes of lightning.

– Can this gun kill a dinosaur? - Eckels' lips said.

“If you hit it right,” Travis answered through his headphones. – Some dinosaurs have two brains: one in the head, the other lower down the spine. We don't touch those. It's better not to abuse your lucky star. The first two bullets in the eyes, if you can, of course. Blinded, then hit the brain.

The car howled. Time was like a film in reverse. The suns flew backwards, followed by tens of millions of moons.

“Oh my God,” Eckels said. “All the hunters who have ever lived in the world would envy us today.” Here Africa itself will seem like Illinois to you.

The car slowed down, the howl was replaced by an even roar. The car stopped.

The sun stopped in the sky.

The darkness that surrounded the Machine dissipated, they were in ancient times, deep, deep antiquity, three hunters and two leaders, each with a gun on his knees - a blued blued barrel.

“Christ has not yet been born,” Travis said. “Moses had not yet gone to the mountain to talk with God. The pyramids lie in the ground, the stones for them have not yet been cut or stacked. Remember this. Alexander, Caesar, Napoleon, Hitler - none of them exist.

They nodded.

“Here,” Mr. Travis pointed with his finger, “here is the jungle sixty million two thousand fifty-five years before President Keith.”

He pointed to a metal path that went through a steaming swamp into green thickets, meandering between huge ferns and palm trees.

“And this,” he explained, “is the path laid here for hunters by the Company.” She floats six inches above the ground. It does not touch a single tree, not a single flower, not a single blade of grass. Made from anti-gravity metal. Its purpose is to isolate you from this world of the past so that you will not touch anything. Stay on the Path. Stay with her. I repeat: do not leave her. Under no circumstances! If you fall off it, you will be fined. And don't shoot anything without our permission.

- Why? – asked Eckels.

They sat among the ancient thickets. The wind carried the distant cries of birds, carried the smell of resin and the ancient salt sea, the smell of wet grass and blood-red flowers.

– We don’t want to change the Future. Here in the Past we are uninvited guests. The government does not approve of our excursions. We have to pay considerable bribes so that we are not deprived of the concession. A time machine is a delicate matter. Without knowing it, we can kill some important animal, a bird, a beetle, crush a flower and destroy an important link in the development of a species.

“I don’t understand something,” Eckels said.

“Well, listen,” Travis continued. – Let’s say we accidentally killed a mouse here. This means that all future descendants of this mouse will no longer exist - right?

“There will be no descendants from descendants from all her descendants!” This means that by carelessly stepping foot, you destroy not one, and not a dozen, and not a thousand, but a million - a billion mice!

“Okay, they died,” Eckels agreed. - So what?

- What? “Travis snorted contemptuously. – What about the foxes, for which these mice were needed for food? If ten mice are not enough, one fox will die. Ten foxes less - the lion will die of hunger. One less lion means that all kinds of insects and vultures will die, and an innumerable number of life forms will perish. And here's the result: after fifty-nine million years, a caveman, one of the dozen that inhabit the whole world, driven by hunger, goes hunting for a wild boar or a saber-toothed tiger. But you, my friend, having crushed one mouse, have thereby crushed all the tigers in these places. And the caveman dies of hunger. And this person, mind you, is not just one person, no! This is a whole future people. From his loins would come ten sons. A hundred would come from them, and so on, and a whole civilization would arise. Destroy one person and you will destroy an entire tribe, a people, a historical era. It's like killing one of Adam's grandsons. Crush a mouse with your foot - it will be tantamount to an earthquake, which will distort the appearance of the entire earth and radically change our destinies. The death of one caveman is the death of a billion of his descendants, strangled in the womb. Perhaps Rome will not appear on its seven hills. Europe will forever remain a dense forest, only in Asia will lush life blossom. Step on the mouse and you will crush the pyramids. Step on a mouse and you'll leave a dent in Eternity the size of the Grand Canyon. There will be no Queen Elizabeth, Washington will not cross the Delaware. The United States will not appear at all. So be careful. Stay on the Path. Never leave it!

JSC SAFARI IN TIME
WE ORGANIZE A SAFARI ANY YEAR IN THE PAST
YOU CHOOSE YOUR PLAY
WE TAKE YOU TO YOUR PLACE
YOU ARE KILLING HER

A Sound of Thunder

Ray Douglas Bradbury

“One touch of the hand - and immediately this combustion will obediently reverse. Eckels remembered every word of the ad. From ashes and ashes, from dust and ash, they will rise like golden salamanders, old years, green years, roses will sweeten the air, gray hair will turn black, wrinkles and folds will disappear, everything and everyone will turn back and become a seed, from death it will rush to its source , the suns will rise in the west and sink into the glow of the east, the moons will wane from the other end, everyone and everything will be like a chicken hiding in an egg, rabbits diving into a magician's hat, everyone and everything will know a new death, the death of the seed, the green death, the return in the time preceding conception. And this will be done with just one movement of the hand..."

Ray Bradbury

A Sound of Thunder

JSC SAFARI IN TIME

WE ORGANIZE A SAFARI ANY YEAR IN THE PAST

YOU CHOOSE YOUR PLAY

WE TAKE YOU TO YOUR PLACE

YOU ARE KILLING HER

– Do you guarantee that I will return from the safari alive?

“...kill my dinosaur,” Eckels finished his sentence.

– Tyrannosaurus rex. Loud Lizard, the most disgusting monster in the history of the planet. Sign this. Whatever happens to you, we are not responsible. These dinosaurs have a voracious appetite.

Eckels flushed with indignation.

-Are you trying to scare me?

Mr. Eckels looked at the check for a long time. His fingers were trembling.

“No fluff or feather,” said the man behind the desk. - Mr. Travis, take care of the client.

Carrying guns in their hands, they walked silently across the room towards the Machine, towards the silvery metal and rumbling light.

First day, then night, again day, again night; then day - night, day - night, day. Week, month, year, decade! 2055 2019, 1999! 1957! Past! The car roared.

They put on oxygen helmets and checked their headphones.

– Can this gun kill a dinosaur? - Eckels' lips said.

The car howled. Time was like a film in reverse. The suns flew backwards, followed by tens of millions of moons.

“Oh my God,” Eckels said. “All the hunters who have ever lived in the world would envy us today.” Here Africa itself will seem like Illinois to you.

The car slowed down, the howl was replaced by an even roar. The car stopped.

The sun stopped in the sky.

The darkness that surrounded the Machine dissipated, they were in ancient times, deep, deep antiquity, three hunters and two leaders, each with a gun on his knees - a blued blued barrel.

“Christ has not yet been born,” said Travis, “Moses has not yet gone to the mountain to talk with God.” The pyramids lie in the ground, the stones for them have not yet been cut or stacked. Remember this. Alexander, Caesar, Napoleon, Hitler - none of them exist.

They nodded.

“Here,” Mr. Travis pointed with his finger, “here is the jungle sixty million two thousand fifty-five years before President Keith.”

He pointed to a metal path that went through a steaming swamp into green thickets, meandering between huge ferns and palm trees.

Page 2 of 2

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STORIES

Ray Bradbury

Thanks to the story “And a Sound of Thunder” by the science fiction philosopher Ray Bradbury, a wide range of people became aware of the phenomenon of the “butterfly effect” - a property of chaotic systems, when a minor influence on the system can have large and unpredictable consequences somewhere far away in another place and at another time.

A SOUND OF THUNDER
(translation by Lev Zhdanov)

The advertisement on the wall blurred, as if it had been covered in a film of sliding warm water; Eckels felt his eyelids closing for a split second and covering his pupils, but even in the instant darkness the letters glowed:

JSC SAFARI IN TIME
WE ORGANIZE A SAFARI ANY YEAR IN THE PAST
YOU CHOOSE YOUR PLAY
WE TAKE YOU TO YOUR PLACE
YOU ARE KILLING HER

Warm mucus pooled in Eckels' throat; he swallowed convulsively. The muscles around his mouth pulled his lips into a smile as he slowly raised his hand, in which dangled a check for ten thousand dollars, intended for the man behind the desk.
- Do you guarantee that I will return from the safari alive?
“We don’t guarantee anything,” the employee answered, “except dinosaurs.” - He turned around. - Here is Mr. Travis, he will be your guide to the Past. He will tell you where and when to shoot. If he says “don’t shoot,” it means don’t shoot. Do not follow his orders, upon return you will pay a fine - another ten thousand, in addition, expect trouble from the government.
At the far end of the huge office room, Eckels saw something bizarre and indefinite, writhing and humming, an interweaving of wires and steel casings, an iridescent bright halo - now orange, now silver, now blue. The roar was as if Time itself was burning on a mighty fire, as if all the years, all the dates in the chronicles, all the days had been dumped into one heap and set on fire.
One touch of the hand - and immediately this combustion will obediently reverse. Eckels remembered every word of the ad. From ashes and ashes, from dust and ash, they will rise like golden salamanders, old years, green years, roses will sweeten the air, gray hair will turn black, wrinkles and folds will disappear, everything and everyone will turn back and become a seed, from death it will rush to its source , the suns will rise in the west and plunge into the glow of the east, the moons will wane from the other end, everything and everyone will be like a chicken hiding in an egg, rabbits diving into a magician's hat, everything and everyone will know a new death, the death of the seed, the green death, the return in the time preceding conception. And this will be done with just one movement of the hand...
“Damn it,” Eckels breathed; glares of light from the Machine flashed on his thin face - a Real Time Machine! - He shook his head. - Just think about it. If the elections had ended differently yesterday, I might have come here today to flee. Thank God Keith won. The United States will have a good president.
“Exactly,” responded the man behind the desk. - We were lucky. If Deutscher had been elected, we would not have escaped the most brutal dictatorship. This guy is against everything in the world - against the world, against faith, against humanity, against reason. People called us and inquired - jokingly, of course, but by the way... They say, if Deutscher is president, is it possible to move to 1492? But it’s not our business to organize escapes. We organize safari. Anyway, Kate is the president, and now you have one concern...
“... kill my dinosaur,” Eckels finished his sentence.
— Tyrannosaurus rex. Loud Lizard, the most disgusting monster in the history of the planet. Sign this. Whatever happens to you, we are not responsible. These dinosaurs have a voracious appetite.
Eckels flushed with indignation.
-Are you trying to scare me?
- To be honest, yes. We do not at all want to send into the past those who panic at the first shot. Six leaders and a dozen hunters died that year. We give you the opportunity to experience the most damned adventure that a real hunter can dream of. Journey back sixty million years and the greatest haul of all time! Here is your receipt. Tear it up.
Mr. Eckels looked at the check for a long time. His fingers were trembling.
“No fluff, no feather,” said the man behind the desk. - Mr. Travis, take care of the client.
Carrying guns in their hands, they walked silently across the room towards the Machine, towards the silvery metal and rumbling light.
First day, then night, again day, again night; then day - night, day - night, day. Week, month, year, decade! 2055 2019, 1999! 1957! Past! The car roared. They put on oxygen helmets and checked their headphones. Eckels rocked on the soft seat, pale, teeth clenched. He felt a convulsive trembling in his hands, looked down and saw how his fingers squeezed the new gun. There were four others in the car. Travis is the safari leader, his assistant Lesperance and two hunters - Billings and Kremer. They sat looking at each other, and the years flashed past like flashes of lightning.
-Can this gun kill a dinosaur? - Eckels' lips said.
“If you hit it right,” Travis answered through his headphones. — Some dinosaurs have two brains: one in the head, the other lower down the spine. We don't touch those. It's better not to abuse your lucky star. The first two bullets in the eyes, if you can, of course. Blinded, then hit the brain.
The car howled. Time was like a film in reverse. The suns flew backwards, followed by tens of millions of moons.
“Oh my God,” Eckels said. “All the hunters who have ever lived would envy us today.” Here Africa itself will seem like Illinois to you.
The car slowed down, the howl was replaced by an even roar. The car stopped.
The sun stopped in the sky. The darkness that surrounded the Machine dissipated, they were in ancient times, deep, deep antiquity, three hunters and two leaders, each with a gun on his knees - a blued blued barrel.
“Christ has not yet been born,” Travis said. “Moses had not yet gone to the mountain to talk with God.” The pyramids lie in the ground, the stones for them have not yet been cut or stacked. Remember this. Alexander, Caesar, Napoleon, Hitler - none of them.
They nodded.
“Here,” Mr. Travis pointed with his finger, “here is the jungle sixty million two thousand fifty-five years before President Keith.”
He pointed to a metal path that went through a steaming swamp into green thickets, meandering between huge ferns and palm trees.
“And this,” he explained, “is the path laid here for hunters by the Company.” She floats six inches above the ground. It does not touch a single tree, not a single flower, not a single blade of grass. Made from anti-gravity metal. Its purpose is to isolate you from this world of the past so that you will not touch anything. Stay on the Path. Stay with her. I repeat: do not leave her. Under no circumstances! If you fall off it, you'll get a fine. And don't shoot anything without our permission.
- Why? asked Eckels.
They sat among the ancient thickets. The wind carried the distant cries of birds, carried the smell of resin and the ancient salt sea, the smell of wet grass and blood-red flowers.
- We don't want to change the Future. Here in the Past we are uninvited guests. The government does not approve of our excursions. We have to pay considerable bribes so that we are not deprived of the concession. A time machine is a delicate matter. Without knowing it, we can kill some important animal, a bird, a beetle, crush a flower and destroy an important link in the development of a species.
“I don’t understand something,” Eckels said.
“Well, listen,” Travis continued. - Let's say we accidentally killed a mouse here. This means that all future descendants of this mouse will no longer exist - right?
- Yes.
“There will be no descendants from descendants from all her descendants!” This means that by carelessly stepping your foot, you destroy not one, and not a dozen, and not a thousand, but a million - a billion mice!
“Okay, they died,” Eckels agreed. - So what?
- What? “Travis snorted contemptuously. - What about the foxes, for which these mice were needed for food? If ten mice are not enough, one fox will die. Ten foxes less - the lion will die of hunger. One less lion means that all kinds of insects and vultures will die, and an innumerable number of life forms will perish. And here's the result: after fifty-nine million years, a caveman, one of the dozen that inhabit the whole world, driven by hunger, goes hunting for a wild boar or a saber-toothed tiger. But you, my friend, having crushed one mouse, have thereby crushed all the tigers in these places. And the caveman dies of hunger. And this person, mind you, is not just one person, no! This is a whole future people. From his loins would come ten sons. A hundred would come from them, and so on, and a whole civilization would arise. Destroy one person and you will destroy an entire tribe, a people, a historical era. It's like killing one of Adam's grandchildren. Crush a mouse with your foot - it will be tantamount to an earthquake, which will distort the appearance of the entire earth and radically change our destinies. The death of one caveman is the death of a billion of his descendants, strangled in the womb. Perhaps Rome will not appear on its seven hills. Europe will forever remain a dense forest, only in Asia will lush life blossom. Step on the mouse and you will crush the pyramids. Step on a mouse and you'll leave a dent in Eternity the size of the Grand Canyon. There will be no Queen Elizabeth, Washington will not cross the Delaware. The United States will not appear at all. So be careful. Stay on the path. Never leave it!
“I understand,” Eckels said. “But then it turns out it’s dangerous to even touch the grass?”
- Absolutely right. It is impossible to predict what the death of a particular plant will lead to. The slightest deviation now will increase immeasurably in sixty million years. Of course, it is possible that our theory is wrong. Perhaps we are not able to influence Time. And even if they are able to do so, it is very insignificant. Let's say a dead mouse leads to a slight deviation in the world of insects, then to oppression of the species, even further to crop failure, depression, hunger, and finally to social changes. Or maybe the result will be completely unnoticeable - a light breath, a whisper, a hair, a speck of dust in the air, something that you won’t see right away. Who knows? Who will undertake to predict? We don't know - we're just guessing. And as long as we don’t know for sure that our forays into Time for history are thunder or a slight rustle, we need to be damn careful. This Machine, this Path, your clothes, you yourself, as you know, are all disinfected. And the purpose of these oxygen helmets is to prevent us from introducing our bacteria into the ancient air.
- But how do we know which animals to kill?
“They're marked with red paint,” Travis replied. - Today, before our departure, we sent Lesperance here on the Machine. He visited just at this time and followed some of the animals.
— Have you studied them?
“Exactly,” responded Lesperance. “I follow their entire lives and note which individuals live the longest. There are very few of them. How many times do they mate? Rarely... Life is short. Having found an animal facing death under a fallen tree or in an asphalt lake, I mark the hour, minute, second when it dies. Then I shoot a dye bullet. It leaves a red mark on the skin. When the expedition departs for the Past, I time everything so that we arrive two minutes before the animal dies anyway. So we kill only those individuals who have no future, who can no longer mate. See how careful we are?
“But if you were here this morning,” Eckels said excitedly, “you should have met us, our expedition!” How did it go? Successfully? Is everyone still alive?
Travis and Lesperance looked at each other.
“That would be a paradox,” said Lesperance. - Time does not allow such confusion for a person to meet himself. If such a danger arises. Time takes a step aside. It's like a plane falling into an air pocket. Did you notice how the car shook just before we stopped? It is we who passed ourselves on the way back to the Future. But we didn't see anything. Therefore, it is impossible to say whether our expedition was a success, whether we killed the beast, whether we - or rather, you, Mr. Eckels - returned alive.
Eckels smiled palely.
“Well, that’s it,” Travis snapped. - Get up!
It was time to get out of the Car.
The jungle was high, and the jungle was wide, and the jungle was forever the whole world. The air was filled with sounds, like music, as if sails were beating in the air - they were flying like gigantic bats from a nightmare, from delirium, flapping huge gray wings like a cave vault, pterodactyls. Eckels, standing on the narrow Path, took aim jokingly.
- Hey, come on! - Travis commanded. “Don’t even aim for fun, damn you!” Suddenly it shoots...
Eckels blushed.
- Where is our Tyrannosaurus rex?
Lesperance glanced at his watch.
- On the way. We will meet in exactly sixty seconds. And for God’s sake, don’t miss the red spot. Until we tell you not to shoot. And don't leave the Path. Don't go off the path!
They walked towards the morning breeze.
“Strange,” muttered Eckels. “We have sixty million years ahead of us.” The elections are over. Keith became president. Everyone celebrates the victory. And we are here, all these millions of years seem to have been blown away by the wind, they are gone. Everything that has bothered us throughout our lives is not yet in sight, not even in the project.
- Get ready! - Travis commanded. - The first shot is yours, Eckels. Billings is number two. Behind him is Kremer.
“I hunted tigers, wild boars, buffalos, elephants, but God knows this is a completely different matter,” said Eckels. “I’m shaking like a boy.”
“Quiet,” Travis said.
Everyone stopped. Travis raised his hand.
“Ahead,” he whispered. - In the fog. He is there. Meet His Royal Majesty.
The vast jungle was full of chirping, rustling, muttering, and sighs. Suddenly everything became silent, as if someone had closed the door. Silence. Thunder Strike. A Tyrannosaurus rex emerged from the darkness about a hundred yards ahead.
“Heavenly powers,” Eckels stammered.
- Shh!
It walked on huge, shiny, springy, softly treading legs. It towered thirty feet above the forest - the great god of evil, pressing the watchmaker's fragile hands to the oily chest of the reptile. The legs are mighty pistons, a thousand pounds of white bone, woven with taut channels of muscle beneath shiny, wrinkled skin like the mail of a fearsome warrior. Each thigh is a ton of meat, ivory and chain mail. And from the huge heaving chest protruded two thin arms, hands with fingers that could pick up and examine a person like a toy. The writhing snake's neck easily raised the thousand-kilogram stone monolith of its head to the sky. The gaping mouth revealed a palisade of dagger teeth. The eyes rolled like ostrich eggs, expressing nothing but hunger. It closed its jaws in an ominous grin. It ran, and its hind legs crushed bushes and trees, and its claws ripped open the damp earth, leaving tracks six inches deep. It ran with a sliding ballet step, incredibly confident and easy for a ten-ton colossus. It cautiously stepped out into the sunlit clearing and felt the air with its beautiful scaly hands.
- God! Eckels' lips trembled. - Yes, if it stretches out, it can reach the moon.
- Shh! - Travis hissed angrily. “He hasn’t noticed us yet.”
- He cannot be killed. “Eckels said this calmly, as if he had brushed aside all objections in advance. He weighed the testimony of eyewitnesses and made a final decision. The gun in his hands was like a scarecrow. - Idiots, and what brought us here... This is impossible.
- Be silent! Travis barked.
- Nightmare...
- All around! - Travis commanded. — Calmly return to the Car. Half of the amount will be returned to you.
“I didn’t expect it to be so huge,” Eckels said. - In a word, I miscalculated. No, I won't participate.
- It noticed us!
- There's a red spot on the chest!
The Loud Lizard straightened up. His armored flesh sparkled like a thousand green coins. The coins were covered in hot mucus. Small bugs swarmed in the mucus, and the whole body shimmered, as if waves were running through it, even when the monster stood motionless. It let out a dull breath. The smell of raw meat hung over the clearing.
“Help me leave,” Eckels said. - Everything was different before. I always knew that I would stay alive. There were reliable guides, successful safaris, no danger. This time I miscalculated. I can't do this. I confess. The nut is too tough for me.
“Don’t run,” said Lesperance. - Turn around. Hide in the Machine.
- Yes. “It seemed as if Eckels had turned to stone. He looked at his legs as if he was trying to force them to move. He groaned from powerlessness.
- Eckels!
He took a step, then another, closing his eyes and dragging his feet.
- Not that side!
As soon as he moved, the monster rushed forward with a terrifying howl. It covered a hundred yards in four seconds. The guns shot up and fired a volley. A hurricane burst from the beast's mouth, dousing people with the smell of mucus and blood. The monster roared, its teeth glinting in the sun.
Without looking back, Eckels stepped blindly to the edge of the Path, stepped off it and, without realizing it, headed into the jungle; the gun dangled uselessly in his hands. His feet sank into the green moss, his legs pulled him away, he felt alone and distant from what was happening behind him.
The guns crackled again. The shots were drowned out by the thunderous roar of the lizard. The reptile's mighty tail jerked like the tip of a whip, and the trees exploded into clouds of leaves and branches. The monster reached down with its jeweler's hands - to stroke people, tear them in half, crush them like berries, and shove them into its mouth, into its roaring throat! Lumps of eyes found themselves near people. They saw their reflection. They opened fire on the metal eyelids and glowing black pupils.
Tyrannosaurus rex collapsed like a stone idol, like a mountain collapse. Growling, he clung to trees and knocked them down. It caught and crushed the metal Path. People rushed back, retreating. Ten tons of cold meat crashed to the ground like a cliff. The guns fired another volley. The monster struck with its armored tail, snapped its snake jaws and fell silent. Blood flowed like a fountain from his throat. Somewhere inside, a waterskin of liquid burst, and a fetid stream overwhelmed the hunters. They stood motionless, doused with something shiny and red.
The thunder stopped. Silence reigned in the jungle. After the collapse - green peace. After the nightmare - morning.
Billings and Cramer sat on the Path; they felt bad. Travis and Lesperance stood nearby, holding smoking guns and cursing.
Eckels, trembling, lay face down in the Time Machine. Somehow he got back onto the Path and made his way to the Machine. Travis came up, looked at Eckels, took gauze out of the drawer and returned to those sitting on the Path.
- Dry yourself.
They wiped the blood off their helmets. And they also began to curse. The monster lay motionless. A mountain of meat, from the depths of which came gurgling and sighs - these were the cells dying, the organs stopped functioning, and the juices flowed through their passages for the last time, everything turned off, going out of order forever. It was as if you were standing next to a broken locomotive or a steam roller that had finished working for the day - all the valves were open or tightly clamped. The bones cracked: the weight of the muscles, uncontrollable by anything - dead weight - crushed the thin arms pressed to the ground. Fluttering, it assumed a resting position.
Suddenly there is a roar again. High above them a gigantic branch broke. With a roar, he fell on the lifeless monster, as if finally confirming his death.
- So. - Lesperance looked at his watch. - Minute to minute. This is the same bitch that should have killed him. “He turned to the two hunters. — Do you need a photo of the trophy?
- What?
“We can’t take the loot into the Future.” The carcass should lie here, in its place, so that insects, birds, and bacteria can feed on it. The balance must not be disturbed. Therefore, the prey is left behind. But we can take a photo of you next to it.
The hunters made an effort to think, but gave up, shaking their heads. They obediently allowed themselves to be taken to the Car. Wearily sank into the seats. They looked back blankly at the defeated monster—the silent mound. Golden insects were already swarming on the cooling armor, and bizarre bird-lizards were sitting.
A sudden noise made the hunters freeze: Eckels was sitting on the floor of the Machine, trembling.
“Forgive me,” he said.
- Get up! Travis barked.
Eckels stood up.
“Get on the Path,” Travis commanded. He raised his gun. - You will not return with the Machine. You will stay here!
Lesperance grabbed Travis's hand.
- Wait...
- Don’t bother! “Travis shook his hand off. “We all almost died because of this bastard.” But that’s not even the main thing. No, damn it, look at his shoes! Look! He jumped off the Path. Do you understand what this threatens us with? Only God knows what kind of fine they will slap on us! Tens of thousands of dollars! We guarantee that no one will leave the Trail. He came down. Damn idiot! I have to report to the government. And we may be deprived of the concession for these safaris. And what consequences will there be for Time, for History?!
“Calm down, he got a little dirt on his soles, that’s all.”
- How can we know? - Travis shouted. - We don’t know anything! It's all a complete mystery! Step by step, Eckels!
Eckels reached into his pocket.
- I'll pay whatever you want. One hundred thousand dollars!
Travis glanced at the checkbook and spat.
- Go! The monster lies near the Path. Put your hands up to the elbows in his mouth. Then you can return to us.
- This is unfair!
“The beast is dead, you poor bastard.” Bullets! Bullets should not remain here in the Past. They can affect development. Here's a knife for you. Cut them out!
The jungle again awakened to life and was filled with ancient rustles and bird voices. Eckels turned slowly and fixed his gaze on the prehistoric carrion, a block of nightmares and horrors. Finally, like a sleepwalker, he wandered along the Path. Five minutes later, he returned to the Machine, trembling all over, his hands red with blood up to the elbows. He extended both palms forward. Steel bullets glittered on them. Then he fell. He lay where he had fallen, motionless.
“You shouldn’t have forced him to do this,” said Lesperance.
- In vain! It's too early to judge this. — Travis pushed the motionless body. - He won’t die. He will no longer be drawn to such prey. Now,” he made a limp gesture with his hand, “turn it on.” We're heading home.
1492. 1776. 1812...
They washed their faces and hands. They took off their shirts and trousers, crusted with blood, and put on everything clean. Eckels came to his senses, but sat in silence. Travis stared at him for a good ten minutes.
“Don’t look at me,” Eckels blurted out. - I did not do anything.
- Who knows.
“I just jumped off the Path and smeared my shoes with clay.” What do you want from me? So that I beg you on my knees?
- This is not excluded. I'm warning you, Eckels, it may still happen that I will kill you. The gun is loaded.
- I am not guilty. I did not do anything.
1999. 2000. 2055.
The car stopped.
“Come out,” Travis commanded.
The room was the same as before. Although no, not exactly the same. The same man was sitting at the same desk. No, not exactly the same person, and the office is not the same. Travis glanced quickly around the room.
- Everything is fine? - he muttered.
- Certainly. Have a safe return!
But Travis remained wary. It seemed that he was checking every atom of the air, meticulously examining the light of the sun falling from the high window.
- Okay, Eckels, come out. And never come into my sight again.
Eckels seemed petrified.
- Well? — Travis hurried him. -What did you see there?
Eckels slowly inhaled the air - something had happened to the air, some kind of chemical change, so insignificant and imperceptible that only a weak voice of the subconscious told Eckels about the change. And the colors - white, gray, blue, orange, on the walls, furniture, in the sky outside the window - they... they... yes: what happened to them? And then there’s this feeling. Goosebumps ran across my skin. My hands were twitching. With all the pores of his body he sensed something strange, alien. It was as if somewhere someone had blown a whistle that only dogs could hear. And his body silently responded. Outside the window, behind the walls of this room, behind the back of the man (who was the wrong person) at the partition (which was the wrong partition) - a whole world of streets and people. But how can we determine from here what kind of world this is now, what kind of people? He literally felt them moving there, behind the walls, like chess pieces drawn by a dry wind...
But what immediately caught his eye was the ad on the wall, the ad that he had already read today when he first entered here. There was something wrong with him.

JSC SOFARI IN TIME
WE ARRANGE A SOFARI FOR ANY YEAR OF THE PAST
YOU CHOOSE YOUR FUCK
WE PLACE YOU IN YOUR PLACE
YOU ARE KILLING HER

Eckels felt himself sink into his chair. He began to frantically scrape the mud on his shoes. His trembling hand picked up a sticky lump.
- No, it can not be! Because of such a small thing... No!
On the lump there was a spot shimmering with green, gold and black - a butterfly, very beautiful... dead.
- Because of such a small thing! Because of a butterfly! - Eckels shouted.
She fell to the floor - a graceful little creature capable of breaking the balance, small dominoes fell... big dominoes... huge dominoes, connected by a chain of innumerable years that make up Time. Eckels' thoughts were shifting. There's no way she could change anything. Dead butterfly - and such consequences? Impossible!
His face grew cold and with disobedient lips he said:
- Who... who won the elections yesterday?
The man behind the desk chuckled.
- Are you kidding? As if you don't know! Deutscher, of course! Who else? Isn't that the weakling Kate? Now the iron man is in power! — The employee was taken aback. - What's wrong with you?
Eckels groaned. He fell to his knees. Trembling fingers reached out to the golden butterfly.
“Is it really impossible,” he prayed to the whole world, to himself, to the employee, to the Machine, “to return her there, to revive her?” Can't we start all over again? May be...
He lay motionless. He lay with his eyes closed, trembling, and waited. He could clearly hear Travis's heavy breathing and heard Travis raise the gun and pull the trigger.
A Sound of Thunder.

Current page: 1 (book has 1 pages in total)

Ray Bradbury
A Sound of Thunder

JSC SAFARI IN TIME

WE ORGANIZE A SAFARI ANY YEAR IN THE PAST

YOU CHOOSE YOUR PLAY

WE TAKE YOU TO YOUR PLACE

YOU ARE KILLING HER

– Do you guarantee that I will return from the safari alive?

“We don’t guarantee anything,” the employee answered, “except dinosaurs.” - He turned around. - Here is Mr. Travis, he will be your guide to the Past. He will tell you where and when to shoot. If he says “don’t shoot,” it means don’t shoot. Do not follow his orders, upon return you will pay a fine - another ten thousand, in addition, expect trouble from the government.

“Damn it,” Eckels breathed; glares of light from the Machine flashed on his thin face - a Real Time Machine! – He shook his head. - Just think about it. If the elections had ended differently yesterday, I might have come here today to flee. Thank God Keith won. The United States will have a good president.

“Exactly,” responded the man behind the desk. - We were lucky. If Deutscher had been elected, we would not have escaped the most brutal dictatorship. This guy is against everything in the world - against the world, against faith, against humanity, against reason. People called us and asked - jokingly, of course, but by the way... They say, if Deutscher is president, is it possible to move to 1492? But it’s not our business to organize escapes. We organize safari. One way or another, Kate is the president, and now you have one concern...

“...kill my dinosaur,” Eckels finished his sentence.

– Tyrannosaurus rex. Loud Lizard, the most disgusting monster in the history of the planet. Sign this. Whatever happens to you, we are not responsible. These dinosaurs have a voracious appetite.

Eckels flushed with indignation.

-Are you trying to scare me?

Mr. Eckels looked at the check for a long time. His fingers were trembling.

“No fluff, no feather,” said the man behind the desk. - Mr. Travis, take care of the client.

Carrying guns in their hands, they walked silently across the room towards the Machine, towards the silvery metal and rumbling light.

First day, then night, again day, again night; then day - night, day - night, day. Week, month, year, decade! 2055 2019, 1999! 1957! Past! The car roared.

They put on oxygen helmets and checked their headphones.

– Can this gun kill a dinosaur? - Eckels' lips said.

The car howled. Time was like a film in reverse. The suns flew backwards, followed by tens of millions of moons.

“Oh my God,” Eckels said. “All the hunters who have ever lived in the world would envy us today.” Here for you

end of introductory fragment