商业托福阅读：星球大战第五章(3)
She paused, and when she continued, her words were hurried and less laced with formality. "You must help me, Obi-wan Kenobi. You are my last hope. I will be captured by agents of the Empire. They will learn nothing from me. Everything to be learned lies locked in the memory cells of this ’droid. Do not fail us, Obi-wan Kenobi. Do not fail me." A small cloud of tridimensional static replaced the delicate portrait, and then it vanished entirely. Artoo Detoo gazed up expectantly at Kenobi.Luke’s mind was as muddy as a pond laced with petroleum. Unanchored, his thoughts and eyes turned for stability to the quiet figure seated nearby.
The old man. The crazy wizard. The desert bum and all-around characters whom his uncle and everyone else had known of for as long as Luke could recall.
If the breathless, anxiety-ridden message the unknown woman had just spoken into the cool air of the cave had affected Kenobi in any way he gave no hint of it.
Instead, he leaned back against the rock wall and tugged thoughtfully at his beard, puffing slowly on a water pipe of free-form tarnished chrome.
Luke visualized that simple yet lovely portrait. "She’s so—so—" His farming background didn’t provide him with the requisite words. Suddenly something in the message caused him to stare disbelievingly at the oldster. "General Kenobi, you fought in the Clone Wars? But…that was so long ago." "Um, yes," Kenobi acknowledged, as casually as he might have discussed the recipe for shang stew. "I guess it was a while back. I was a Jedi knight once.
Like," he added, watching the youth appraisingly, "your father." "A Jedi knight," Luke echoed. Then he looked confused. "But my father didn’t fight in the Clone Wars. He was no knight—just a navigator on a space freighter." Kenobi’s smile enfolded the pipe’s mouthpiece. "Or so your uncle has told you." His attention was suddenly focused elsewhere. "Owen Lars didn’t agree with your father’s ideas, opinions, or with his philosophy of life. He believed that your father should have stayed here on Tatooine and not gotten involved in…" Again the seemingly indifferent shrug. "Well, he thought he should have remained here and minded his farming." Luke said nothing, his body tense as the old man related bits and pieces of a personal history Luke had viewed only through his uncle’s distortions.
"Owen was always afraid that your father’s adventurous life might influence you, might pull you away from Anchorhead." He shook his head slowly, regretfully at the remembrance. "I’m afraid there wasn’t much of the farmer in your father." Luke turned away. He returned to cleaning the last particles of sand from Threepio’s healing armature. "I wish I’d known him," he finally whispered.
商业托福阅读：星球大战第五章(3)
</p> "He was the best pilot I ever knew," Kenobi went on, "and a smart fighter. The force…the instinct was strong in him." For a brief second Kenobi actually appeared old. "He was also a good friend." Suddenly the boyish twinkle returned to those piercing eyes along with the old man’s natural humor. "I understand you’re quite a pilot yourself. Piloting and navigation aren’t hereditary, but a number of the things that can combine to make a good small-ship pilot are. Those you may have inherited. Still, even a duck has to be taught to swim." "What’s a duck?" Luke asked curiously."Never mind. In many ways, you know, you are much like your father." Kenobi’s unabashed look of evaluation made Luke nervous. "You’ve grown up quite a bit since the last time I saw you." Having no reply for that, Luke waited silently as Kenobi sank back into deep contemplation. After a while the old man stirred, evidently having reached an important decision.
"All this reminds me," he declared with deceptive casualness, "I have something here for you." He rose and walked over to a bulky, old-fashioned chest and started rummaging through it. All sorts of intriguing items were removed and shoved around, only to be placed back in the bin. A few of them Luke recognized. As Kenobi was obviously intent on something important, he forbore inquiring about any of the other tantalizing flotsam.
"When you were old enough," Kenobi was saying, "your father want you to have this…if I can ever find the blasted device. I tried to give it to you once before, but your uncle wouldn’t allow it. He believed you might get some crazy ideas from it and end up following old Obi-wan on some idealistic crusade.
"You see, Luke, that’s where your father and your Uncle Owen disagreed. Lars is not a man to let idealism interfere with business, whereas your father didn’t think the question even worth discussing. His decision on such matters came like his piloting—instinctively." Luke nodded. He finished picking out the last of the grit and looked around for one remaining component to snap back in Threepio’s open chest plate. Locating the restraining module, he opened the receiving latches in the machine and set about locking it back in place. Threepio watched the process and appeared to wince ever so perceptibly.
Luke stared into those metal and plastic photoreceptors for a long moment.
Then he set the module pointedly on the workbench and closed the ’droid up.
Threepio said nothing.
A grunt came from behind them, and Luke turned to see a pleased Kenobi walking over. He handed Luke a small, innocuous-looking device, which the youth studied with interest.
It consisted primarily of a short, thick handgrip with a couple of small switches set into the grip. Above this small post was a circular metal disk barely larger in diameter than his spread palm. A number of unfamiliar, jewel-like components were built into both handle and disk, including what looked like the smallest power cell Luke had ever seen. The reverse side of the disk was polished to a mirror brightness.
But it was the power cell that puzzled Luke the most. Whatever the thing was, it required a great deal of energy, according to the rating form of the cell.
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