The lock clicks.
Air it is intolerable it is hot. Bulls never breathed such and did not think even that it is possible. But it, apparently, probably
because it gets a cylinder, attaches it to a cylinder Jurkovsky and waits, watching, as the arrow of a manometre in small lamp
beams on its helmet convulsively twitches. The helmet lies nearby, about a carryall... In eyes grows turbid, faintness drives...
Air! Air! Widely open mouth suffices the heated mix of sand, a dust and still something of that it is not enough, but than it is
possible to breathe...
All the same, apparently, really, it is possible, because it still has forces to fix as it is necessary the cylinder and to fasten a
helmet. Only after that he ceases to see small lamp beams in which sandy whirlwinds fly by, and falls a head in sand near to
reviving Jurkovsky.
During a halt of the Bulls, exhausted and weakened, has fallen asleep, having left Jurkovsky on hours. For the fourth days
they have passed no more twelve thousand steps, and while Bulls slept, Jurkovsky has removed from itself thermoses with
the rests of liquid chocolate and lemonade, has removed a cylinder with oxygen, has combined all it accurately on a thin bag
near to a stretcher and, somehow having fastened a helmet, has crept away at night to die in sand. Bulls has woken up just
in time. It has found the geologist while that, feeling that it does not have not enough forces to crawl away far, pulled down
and could not pull down from itself the helmet hooked for something. With bulls has charged Jurkovsky a shoulder - both
have not told words, - has carried to a halt place, has helped to strengthen a helmet and to put all cylinders and then skazal:
- I wish to sleep, I am very tired. Pledge a word that during a dream you will not get away...
The Jurkovsky was silent.
- I very much wish to sleep, very much... You do not allow to me to fall asleep, Volodja...
The Jurkovsky was silent obstinately, only with hatred snuffled in a microphone.
- Allow to me to fall asleep, Volodja!. We will talk about everything when I will wake up. I ask, Vladimir Sergeevich...