商业托福阅读：星球大战第四章(3)
For the first time all evening Owen Lars looked thoughtful as well as concerned as he gazed down the passage Luke had taken. "That’s what I’m afraid of," he whispered.Luke had gone topside. He stood on the sand watching the double sunset as first one and then the other of Tatooine’s twin suns sank slowly behind the distant range of dunes. In the fading light the sands turned gold, russet, and flaming red- orange before advancing night put the bright colors to sleep for another day. Soon, for the first time, those sands would blossom with food plants. This former wasteland would see and eruption of green.
The thought ought to have sent a thrill of anticipation through Luke. He should have been as flushed with excitement as his uncle was whenever he described the coming harvest. Instead, Luke felt nothing but a vast indifferent emptiness. Not even the prospect of having a lot of money for the first time in his life excited him.
What was there to do with money in Anchorhead—anywhere on Tatooine, for that matter? Part of him, an increasingly large part, was growing more and more restless at remaining unfulfilled. This was not an uncommon feeling in youths his age, but for reasons Luke did not understand it was much stronger in him than in any of his friends.
As the night cold came creeping over the sand and up his legs, he brushed the grit from his trousers and descended into the garage. Maybe working on the ’droids would bury some of the remorse a little deeper in his mind. A quick survey of the chamber showed no movement. Neither of the new machines was in sight.
Frowning slightly, Luke took a small control box from his belt and activated a couple of switches set into the plastic.
A low him came from the box. The caller produced the taller of the two robots, Threepio. In fact, he gave a yell of surprise as he jumped up behind the skyhopper.
Luke started toward him, openly puzzled. "What are you hiding back there for?" The robot came stumbling around the prow of the craft, he attitude one of desperation. It occurred to Luke then that despite his activating the caller, the Artoo unit was still nowhere to be seen.
The reason for his absence—or something related to it—came pouring unbidden from Threepio. "It wasn’t my fault," the robot begged frantically. "Please don’t deactivate me! I told him not to go, but he’s faulty. He must be malfunctioning.
Something has totally boiled his logic circuits. He kept babbling on about some sort of mission, sir. I never heard a robot with delusions of grandeur before. Such things shouldn’t even be within the cogitative theory units of one that’s as basic as an Artoo unit, and…" "You mean…?" Luke started to gape.
"Yes, sir…he’s gone." "And I removed his restraining coupling myself," Luke muttered slowly.
Already he could visualize his uncle’s face. The last of their savings tied up in these ’droids, he had said.
Racing out of the garage, Luke hunted for non-existent reasons why the Artoo unit should go berserk. Threepio followed on his heels.
From a small ridge which formed the highest point close by the homestead, Luke had a panoramic view of the surrounding desert. Bringing out the precious macrobinoculars, he scanned the rapidly darkening horizons for something small, metallic, three-legged, and out of its mechanical mind.
Threepio fought his way up through the sand to stand beside Luke. "That Artoo unit has always caused nothing but trouble," he groaned. "Astromech ’droids are becoming too iconoclastic even for me to understand, sometimes." The binoculars finally came down, and Luke commented matter-of-factly, "Well, he’s nowhere in sight." He kicked furiously at the ground. "Damn it—how could I have been so stupid, letting it trick me into removing that restrainer! Uncle Owen’s going to kill me." "Begging your pardon, sir," ventured a hopeful Threepio, visions of jawas dancing in his head, "but can’t we go after him?" Luke turned. Studiously he examined the wall of black advancing toward them "Not at night. It’s too dangerous with all the raiders around. I’m not too concerned about the jawas, but sandpeople…no, not in the dark. We’ll have to wait until morning to try to track him" A shout rose from the homestead below. "Luke—Luke, are you finished with those ’droids yet? I’m turning down the power for the night." "All right!" Luke responded, sidestepping the question. "I’ll be down in a few minutes, Uncle Owen!" Turning, he took one last look at the vanished horizon.
"Boy, am I in for it!" he muttered. "That little ’droid’s going to get me in a lot of trouble." "Oh, he excells at that, sir." Threepio confirmed with mock cheerfulness. Luke threw him a sour look, and together they turned and descended into the garage.
"Luke…Luke!" Still rubbing the morning sleep from his eyes, Owen glanced from side to side, loosening his neck muscles. "Where could that boy be loafing now?" he wondered aloud at the lack of response. There was no sign of movement in the homestead, and he had already checked above.
"Luke!" he yelled again. Luke, luke, luke…the name echoed teasing back at him from the homestead walls. Turning angrily, he stalked back into the kitchen, where Beru was preparing breakfast.
"Have you seen Luke this morning?" he asked as softly as he could manage.
She glance briefly at him, then returned to her cooking. "Yes. He said he had some things to do before he started out to the south ridge this morning, so he left early."
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