Page:Evgenii Zamyatin - We (Zilboorg translation).pdf/202

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190
We

looked through me, and how her voice seemed to come from a distance:

“I am busy. I am receiving a message from below. You may dictate yours to her.”

The small, box-like little cabin . . . I thought for a second and then dictated in a firm voice:

“Time fourteen-forty. Going down. Motors stopped. The end of all.”

The commander’s bridge. The machine heart of the Integral stopped; we were falling; my heart could not catch up and would remain behind and rise higher and higher into my throat. . . . Clouds. . . . And then a distant green spot—everything green, more and more distinct, running like a storm toward us. “Soon the end.”

The porcelain-like distorted white face of the Second Builder! It was he who struck me with all his strength; I hurt my head on something; and through the approaching darkness, I heard while falling:

“Full speed—aft!”

A brusque jolt upward. . .

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