商业托福阅读：星球大战第三章(5)
Luke grinned, noting the robot’s reaction. "Yes, it’s a lubrication bath." He eyed the tall bronze robot appraisingly. "And from the looks of it, you could use about a week’s submergence. But we can’t afford that so you’ll have to settle for an afternoon." Then Luke turned his attention to Artoo Detoo, walking up to him and flipping open a panel that shielded numerous gauges."As for you," he continued, with a whistle of surprise, "I don’t know how you’ve kept running. Not surprising, knowing the jawas’ reluctance to part with any erg- fraction they don’t have to. It’s recharge time for you." He gestured toward a large power unit.
Artoo Detoo followed Luke’s gesture, then beeped once and waddled over the boxy construction. Finding the proper cord, he automatically flipped open a panel and plugged the triple prongs into his face.
Threepio had walked over to the large cistern, which was filled almost full with aromatic cleansing oil. With a remarkably humanlike sigh he lowered himself slowly into the tank.
"You two behave yourselves," Luke cautioned them as he moved to a small two- man sky hopper. A powerful little suborbital spacecraft, it rested in the hangar section of the garage-workshop. "I’ve got work of my own to do." Unfortunately, Luke’s energies were still focused on his farewell encounter with Biggs, so that hours later he had finished few of his chores. Thinking about his friend’s departure, Luke was running a caressing hand over the damaged port fin of the ’hopper—the fin he had damaged while running down an imaginary Tie fighter in the wrenching twists and turns of a narrow canyon. That was when the projecting ledge had clipped him as effectively as an energy beam.
Abruptly something came to a boil within him. With atypical violence he threw a power wrench across a worktable nearby. "It just isn’t fair!" he declared to no one in particular. His voice dropped disconsolately. "Biggs is right. I’ll never get out of here. He’s planning rebellion against the Empire, and I’m trapped on a blight of a farm." "I beg your pardon, sir." Luke spun, startled, but it was only the tall ’droid, Threepio. The contrast in the robot was striking compared with Luke’s initial sight of him. Bronze-colored alloy gleamed in the overhead lights of the garage, cleaned of pits and dust by the powerful oils.
"Is there anything I might do to help?" the robot asked solicitously.
Luke studied the machine, and as he did so some of his anger drained away.
There was no point in yelling cryptically at a robot.
"I doubt it," he replied, "unless you can alter time and speed up the harvest. Or else teleport me off this sandpile under Uncle Owen’s nose." Sarcasm was difficult for even an extremely sophisticated robot to detect, so Threepio considered the question objectively before finally replying, "I don’t think so, sir. I’m only a third-degree ’droid and not very knowledgeable about such things as transatomic physics." Suddenly, the events of the past couple of days seemed to catch up with him all at once. "As a matter of fact, young sir," Threepio went on while looking around him with fresh vision, "I’m not even sure which planet I’m on." Luke chuckled sardonically and assumed a mocking pose. "If there’s bright center to this universe, you’re on the world farthest from it." "Yes, Luke sir." The youth shook his head irritably. "Never mind the ’sir’—it’s just Luke.
And this world is called Tatooine." Threepio nodded slightly. "Thank you, Luke s—Luke. I am See Threepio, human-droid relations specialist." He jerked a casual metal thumb back toward the recharge unit. "That is my companion, Artoo Detoo." "Pleased to meet you, Threepio," Luke said easily. "You too, Artoo." Walking across the garage, he checked a gauge on the smaller machine’s front panel, plugging the charge cord he saw something, which made him frown and lean close.
"Something wrong, Luke?" Threepio inquired.
Luke went to a nearby tool wall and selected a small many-armed device. "I don’t know yet, Threepio." Returning to the recharger, Luke bent over Artoo and began scraping at several bumps in the small ’droid’s top with a chromed pick. Occasionally he jerked back sharply as bits of corrosion were flicked into the air by the tiny tool.
商业托福阅读：星球大战第三章(5)
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