And still I then have thought... - Zhilin has kept silent. - I have thought: why it was such boring and such small? After all it
was very boring person, Jura.
Very much. If this storm has happened at it in the face of, he for certain would cry: "Ah! Slippers! My slippers dry on a porch!"
Also would run to rescue slippers. But why, how it became such? Zhilin has become silent and has strictly looked at Juru.
But it was guilty... - Jura has shy told.
Lie. Anybody never happens is guilty only itself. Such with what we become, we are done by people. Here in what business.
And we... As is frequent we do not pay this dolzhok... Almost never. And after all there is nothing more important it.
This main thing. Now this main thing. Earlier to the main things was to give to the person freedom to become what it would
like to be. And now the main thing - to show to the person who should begin to be humanly happy. Here it now the main
thing, - Zhilin has looked at Juru and has suddenly asked: - the Truth? - Probably, - Jura has told. All it was correct, but is
somehow alien to it. Somehow did not touch. Hopeless this business seemed. Or boring...
Zhilin sat, with watchfulness listening. Eyes at it have absolutely stopped.
What happens? - Has asked Jura.
Silently! - Zhilin has risen. - it is strange, - he has told. He all listened. JUra has suddenly felt, how the floor has quietly
trembled underfoot, and in the same second the siren has stridently raised a howl. He has jumped and has rushed to a door.
Zhilin has caught it for a shoulder.
Easy, - he has told. - the place under the schedule you remember? - Yes! - Jura has told and has choked.
Duties too? - Zhilin has released it. - a march! JUra has rushed in a corridor.
He ran on a ring corridor in vacuum-compartment where there was its place under the emergency schedule, ran quickly, but
nevertheless restrained not to be started up at full speed. The trainee should be "spokojnu, vyderzhanu and always gotovu",
however when on the ship rushes melancholy menacing howl, when the ship convulsively shudders, as if the wounded man
at whom dig in a wound inept fingers when badly you understand that you should do, and at all do not understand that
occurs... In the end of a corridor red lamps have flashed. JUra has not sustained and has rushed.