星球大战 第二章(5)

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　　Most of them are only myths. This twice removed friend could be an imperial agent.
　　You’d end up on Kessel, or worse. If rebel outposts were so easy to find, the Empire would have wiped them out years ago." "I know it’s a long shot," Biggs admitted reluctantly. "If I don’t contact them, then"—a peculiar light came into Biggs’s eyes, a conglomeration of newfound maturity and…something else—"I’ll do what I can, on my own." He stared intensely at his friend. "Luke, I’m not going to wait for the Empire to conscript me into its service. In spite of what you hear over the official information channels, the rebellion is growing, spreading. And I want to be on the right side— the side I believe in." His voice altered unpleasantly, and Luke wondered what he saw in his mind’s eye.
8 Z! z2 g( K3 T: v# v! h7 {% Y　　"You should have heard some of the stories I’ve heard, Luke, learned of some of the outrages I’ve learned about. The Empire may have been great and beautiful once, but the people in charge now—" He shook his head sharply. "It’s rotten, Luke, rotten." "And I can’t do a damn thing," Luke muttered morosely. "I’m stuck here." He kicked futilely at the ever-present sand of Anchorhead.
- V, X2 R; i5 a* [7 W0 l　　"I though you were going to enter the Academy soon," Biggs observed. "If that’s so, then you’ll have your chance to get off this sandpile." Luke snorted derisively. "Not likely. I had to withdraw my application." He looked away, unable to meet his friend’s disbelieving stare. "I had to. There’s been a lot of unrest among the sandpeople since you left, Biggs. They’ve even raided the outskirts of Anchorhead." Biggs shook his head, disregarding the excuse. "Your uncle could hold off a whole colony of raiders with one blaster." "From the house, sure," Luke agreed, "but Uncle Owen’s finally got enough vaporators installed and running to make the farm pay off big. But he can’t guard all that land by himself, and he says he needs me for one more season. I can’t run out on him now." Biggs sighed sadly. "I feel for you, Luke. Someday you’re going to have to learn to separate what seems to be important from what really is important." He gestured around them.
4 a' P4 {. k% m/ h+ n. F2 S1 [/ z1 A2 a　　"What good is all your uncle’s work if it’s taken over by the Empire? I’ve heard that they’re starting to imperialize commerce in all the outlying systems. It won’t be long before your uncle and everyone else on Tatooine are just tenants slaving for the greater glory of the Empire." "That couldn’t happen here," Luke objected with a confidence he didn’t quite feel. "You’ve said it yourself—the Empire won’t bother with this rock." "Things change, Luke. Only the threat is completely removed—well, there are two things men have never been able to satisfy; their curiosity and their greed. 　　Most of them are only myths. This twice removed friend could be an imperial agent.

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　　You’d end up on Kessel, or worse. If rebel outposts were so easy to find, the Empire would have wiped them out years ago." "I know it’s a long shot," Biggs admitted reluctantly. "If I don’t contact them, then"—a peculiar light came into Biggs’s eyes, a conglomeration of newfound maturity and…something else—"I’ll do what I can, on my own." He stared intensely at his friend. "Luke, I’m not going to wait for the Empire to conscript me into its service. In spite of what you hear over the official information channels, the rebellion is growing, spreading. And I want to be on the right side— the side I believe in." His voice altered unpleasantly, and Luke wondered what he saw in his mind’s eye.
　　"You should have heard some of the stories I’ve heard, Luke, learned of some of the outrages I’ve learned about. The Empire may have been great and beautiful once, but the people in charge now—" He shook his head sharply. "It’s rotten, Luke, rotten." "And I can’t do a damn thing," Luke muttered morosely. "I’m stuck here." He kicked futilely at the ever-present sand of Anchorhead.
7 L& s2 X. H- l　　"I though you were going to enter the Academy soon," Biggs observed. "If that’s so, then you’ll have your chance to get off this sandpile." Luke snorted derisively. "Not likely. I had to withdraw my application." He looked away, unable to meet his friend’s disbelieving stare. "I had to. There’s been a lot of unrest among the sandpeople since you left, Biggs. They’ve even raided the outskirts of Anchorhead." Biggs shook his head, disregarding the excuse. "Your uncle could hold off a whole colony of raiders with one blaster." "From the house, sure," Luke agreed, "but Uncle Owen’s finally got enough vaporators installed and running to make the farm pay off big. But he can’t guard all that land by himself, and he says he needs me for one more season. I can’t run out on him now." Biggs sighed sadly. "I feel for you, Luke. Someday you’re going to have to learn to separate what seems to be important from what really is important." He gestured around them.
; W' ?$ F2 |% H' _3 S1 G3 b　　"What good is all your uncle’s work if it’s taken over by the Empire? I’ve heard that they’re starting to imperialize commerce in all the outlying systems. It won’t be long before your uncle and everyone else on Tatooine are just tenants slaving for the greater glory of the Empire." "That couldn’t happen here," Luke objected with a confidence he didn’t quite feel. "You’ve said it yourself—the Empire won’t bother with this rock." "Things change, Luke. Only the threat is completely removed—well, there are two things men have never been able to satisfy; their curiosity and their greed.

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For a moment, he paused. He seemed to detect a noise—like metal on rock— ahead of him, instead of rock on rock. The sound wasn’t repeated, though, and he quickly resumed his ambling ascent.

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　　Artoo Detoo could hear them but failed to comprehend anything. He need not have been embarrassed at his failure. If they so wished, only jawas could understand other jawas, for they employed a randomly variable language that drove linguists mad.
　　One of them removed a small disk from a belt pouch and sealed it to the Artoo unit’s flank. A large tube protruded from one side of the gargantuan vehicle. They rolled him over to it and then moved clear. There was a brief moan, the whoosh of powerful vacuum, and the small robot was sucked into the bowels of the sandcrawler as neatly as a pea up a straw. This part of the job completed, the jawas engaged in another bout of jabbering, following which they scurried into the crawler via tubes and ladders, for all the world like a nest of mice returning to their holes.
6 }) J/ Y0 B% \2 j# Z( t　　None too gently, the suction tube deposited Artoo in a small cubical. In addition to varied piles of broken instruments and outright scrap, a dozen or so robots of differing shapes and sizes populated the prison. A few were locked in electronic conversation. Others muddled aimlessly about. But when Artoo tumbled into the chamber, one voice burst out in surprise.
" V- S: Z+ a! J* o* m/ s　　"Artoo Detoo—it’s you, it’http://www.Examw.coms you!" called an excited Threepio from the near darkness. He made his way over to the still immobilized repair unit and embraced it most unmechanically. Spotting the small disk sealed onto Artoo’s side, Threepio turned his gaze thoughtfully down to his own chest, where a similar device had likewise been attached.
/ P& |9 U( c- F) j2 {* B) W　　Massive gears, poorly lubricated, started to move. With a groaning and grinding, the monster sandcrawler turned and lumbered with relentless patience into the desert night.