商业托福阅读：星球大战第五章(2)
"I’ll show you sometime, son. It’s not too hard. Just takes the right attitude, a set of well-used vocal cords, and a lot of wind. Now, if you were an imperial bureaucrat, I could teach you right off, but you’re not." He scanned the cliff-spine again. "And I don’t think this is the time or place for it." "I won’t argue that." Luke was rubbing at the back of his head. "Let’s get started." That was when Artoo let out a pathetic beep and whirled. Luke couldn’t interpret the electronic squeal, but he suddenly comprehended the reason behind it."Threepio." Luke exclaimed, worriedly. Artoo was already moving as fast as possible away from the landspeeder. "Come on, Ben." The little robot led them to the edge of a large sandpit. It stopped there, pointing downward and squeaking mournfully. Luke saw where Artoo was pointing, then started cautiously down the smooth, shifting slope while Kenobi followed effortlessly.
Threepio lay in the sand at the base of the slope down which he had rolled and tumbled. His casing was dented and badly mangled. One arm lay broken and bent a short distance away.
"Threepio!" Luke called. There was no response. Shaking the ’droid failed to activate anything. Opening a plate on the robot’s back, Luke flipped a hidden switch on and off several times in succession. A low hum started, stopped, started again, and then dropped to a normal purr.
Using his remaining arm, Threepio rolled over and sat up. "Where am I," he murmured, as his photoreceptors continued to clear. Then he recognized Luke.
"Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I must have taken a bad step." "You’re lucky any of your main circuits are still operational," Luke informed him. He looked significantly toward the top of the hill. "Can you stand? We’ve got to get out of here before the sandpeople return." Servomotors whined in protest until Threepio ceased struggling. "I don’t think I can make it. You go on, Master Luke. It doesn’t make sense to risk yourself on my account. I’m finished." "No, you’re not," Luke shot back, unaccountably affected by this recently encountered machine. But then, Threepio was not the usual uncommunicative, agrifunctional device Luke was accustomed to dealing with. "What kind of talk is that?" "Logical," Threepio informed him.
Luke shook his head angrily. "Defeatist." With Luke and Ben Kenobi’s aid, the battered ’droid somehow managed to struggle erect. Little Artoo watched from the pit’s rim.
Hesitating part way up the slope, Kenobi sniffed the air suspiciously. "Quickly, son. They’re on the move again." Trying to watch the surrounding rocks and his footsteps simultaneously, Luke fought to drag Threepio clear of the pit.
The décor of Ben Kenobi’s well-concealed cave was Spartan without appearing uncomfortable. It would not have suited most people, reflecting as it did it’s owner’s peculiarly eclectic tastes. The living area radiated an aura of lean comfort with more importance attached to mental comforts than those of the awkward human body.
商业托福阅读：星球大战第五章(2)
</p> They had succeeded in vacating the canyon before the Tusken Raiders could return in force. Under Kenobi’s direction, Luke left a trail behind them so confusing that not even a hypernasal jawa could have followed it.Luke spent several hours ignoring the temptations of Kenobi’s cave. Instead he remained in the corner which was equipped as a compact yet complete repair shop, working to fix Threepio’s severed arm.
Fortunately, the automatic overload disconnects had given way under the severe strain, sealing electronic nerves and ganglia without real damage. Repair was merely a matter of reattaching the limb to the shoulder, then activating the self-seals.
Had the arm been broken in mid-"bone" instead of at a joint, such repairs would have been impossible save at a factory shop.
While Luke was thus occupied, Kenobi’s attention was concentrated on Artoo Detoo. The squat ’droid sat passively on the cool cavern floor while the old man fiddled with its metal insides. Finally the man sat back with a "Humph!" of satisfaction and closed the open panels in the robot’s rounded head. "Now let’s see if we can figure out what you are, my little friend, and where you came from." Luke was almost finished anyway, and Kenobi’s words were sufficient to pull him away from the repair area. "I saw part of the message," he began, "and I…" Once more the striking portrait was being projected into empty space from the front of the little robot. Luke broke off, enraptured by its enigmatic beauty once again.
"Yes, I think that’s got it," Kenobi murmured contemplatively.
The image continued to flicker, indicating a tape hastily prepared. But it was much sharper, better defined now, Luke noted with admiration. One thing was apparent: Kenobi was skilled in subjects more specific than desert scavenging.
"General Obi-wan Kenobi," the mellifluous voice was saying, "I present myself in the name of the world family of Alderaan and of the Alliance to Restore the Republic. I break your solitude at the bidding of my father, Bail Organa, Viceroy and First Chairman of the Alderaan system." Kenobi absorbed this extraordinary declamation while Luke’s eyes bugged big enough to fall from his face.
"Years ago, General," the voice continued, "you served the Old Republic in the Clone Wars. Now my father begs you to aid us again in our most desperate hour.
He would have you join him on Alderaan. You must go to him.
"I regret that I am unable to present my father’s request to you in person. My mission to meet personally with you has failed. Hence I have been forced to resort to this secondary method of communication.
"Information vital to the survival of the Alliance has been secured in the mind of this Detoo ’droid. My father will know how to retrieve it. I plead with you to see this unit safely delivered to Alderaan."
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