- How road, Alexey Petrovich? - Without changes.
- Have got tired? Bulls has shrugged shoulders.
- Perhaps, will transfer to my control and have a sleep? - Road very difficult.
- Yes, road nasty. Anything, soon we leave in desert.
The Jurkovsky has risen also villages, rubbing palms litso: - Uh, has nicely had a sleep! Dauge! - M-m...
- What happens? Faugh... And me, friends, such dream dreamt!.
Ioganych a hoarse voice has begun to tell the dream, but Bulls did not listen to it. Something happens outside, behind a
strong armour of "Boy".
Became much more dark. The sky has accepted an is dirty-brown shade, and suddenly in beams of headlights have begun
to spin, settling on a cleft bottom, miriady black points.
The black powder was strewed whence from above, densely as snow in a good snowfall, and soon it not became visible
neither roads, nor rocks. Alarm bulbs from external dosimeters were poured by crimson light, arrows on dials an alpha-beta-
radio metre have uneasily begun to jump. Bulls has abruptly braked.
The conveyor has slipped the right caterpillar in a rut, was developed and has risen across a cleft. Dim from the dust which
has filled atmosphere light of headlights has rested against a smooth basalt surface.
- What is the matter? - Ermakov has asked.
Bulls silently has opened before it the viewing hatch.
Ermakov has kept silent minute, peering, then skazal: - the Black storm. I already saw it.
- What there the such? - Has with anxiety asked Dauge.
Spitsyn has grumbled, looking through a shoulder of Bykova.
- Carnival of chimney sweeps.
- What it, Anatoly Borisovich? - The Black storm, one more certificate of that we near to Golconda. Switch off the engine,
Alexey Petrovich.
The driver obeyed, but "Boy" continued to shiver a small unpleasant shiver. Any leaky fixed metal subject fractionally tinkled.
- We leave? - Has offered Jurkovsky.
- What for? The dust is radioactive, unless you do not see? Then it is necessary to spend a lot of time for deactivation.
- Well to take sample of this dirty trick...