JANOV PELORAT WATCHED, FOR THE FIRST TIME IN HIS LIFE, AS THE bright star graduated into an orb1 after what Trevize had called a “micro-Jump.” The fourth planet--the habitable one and their immediate2 destination, Sayshell--then grew in size and prominence3 more slowly--over a period of days.
A map of the planet had been produced by the computer and was displayed on a portable screening device, which Pelorat held in his lap.
Trevize--with the aplomb4 of someone who had, in his time, touched down upon several dozen worlds--said, “Don’t start watching too hard too soon, Janov. We have to go through the entry station first and that can be tedious.”
Pelorat looked up. “Surely that’s just a formality.”
“It is. But it can still be tedious.”
“But it’s peacetime.”
“Of course. That means we’ll be passed through. First, though, there’s a little matter of the ecological5 balance. Every planet has its own and they don’t want it upset. So they make a natural point of checking the ship for undesirable6 organisms, or infections. It’s a reasonable precaution.”
“We don’t have such things, it seems to me.”
“No, we don’t and they’ll find that out. Remember, too, that Sayshell is not a member of the Foundation Federation7, so there’s certain to be some leaning over backward to demonstrate their independence.”
A small ship came out to inspect them and a Sayshellian Customs official boarded. Trevize was brisk, not having forgotten his military days.
“TheFar Star , out of Terminus,” he said. “Ship’s papers. Unarmed. Private vessel8. My passport. There is one passenger. His passport. We are tourists.”
The Customs official wore a garish9 uniform in which crimson10 was the dominating color. Cheeks and upper lip were smooth-shaven, but he wore a short beard parted in such a way that tufts thrust out to both sides of his chin. He said, “Foundation ship?”
He pronounced it “Foundaysun sip,” but Trevize was careful neither to correct him nor to smile. There were as many varieties of dialects to Galactic Standard as there were planets, and you just spoke11 your own. As long as there was cross-comprehension, it didn’t matter.
“Yes, sir,” said Trevize. “Foundation ship. Privately12 owned.”
“Very nice. --Your lading, if you please.”
“My what?”
“Your lading. What are you carrying?”
“Ah, my cargo13. Here is the itemized list. Personal property only. We are not here to trade. As I told you, we are simply tourists.”
The Customs official looked about curiously14. “This is rather an elaborate vessel for tourists.”
“Not by Foundation standards,” said Trevize with a display of good humor. “And I’m well off and can afford this.”
“Are you suggesting that I might be richified?” The official looked at him briefly15, then looked away.
Trevize hesitated a moment in order to interpret the meaning of the word, then another moment to decide his course of action. He said, “No, it is not my intention to bribe16 you. I have no reason to bribe you--and you don’t look like the kind of person who could be bribed17, if that were my intention. You can look over the ship, if you wish.”
“No need,” said the official, putting away his pocket recorder. “You have already been examined for specific contraband18 infection and have passed. The ship has been assigned a radio wavelength19 that will serve as an approach beam.”
He left. The whole procedure had taken fifteen minutes.
Pelorat said in a low voice. “Could he have made trouble? Did he really expect a bribe?”
Trevize shrugged20. “Tipping the Customs man is as old as the Galaxy21 and I would have done it readily if he had made a second try for it. As it is--well, I presume he prefers not to take a chance with a Foundation ship, and a fancy one, at that. The old Mayor, bless her cross-grained hide, said the name of the Foundation would protect us wherever we went and she wasn’t wrong. --It could have taken a great deal longer.”
“Why? He seemed to find out what he wanted to know.”
“Yes, but he was courteous22 enough to check us by remote radioscanning. If he had wished, he could have gone over the ship with a hand-machine and taken hours. He could have put us both in a field hospital and kept us days.”
“What? Mydear fellow!”
“Don’t get excited. He didn’t do it. I thought he might, but he didn’t. Which means we’re free to land. I’d like to go down gravitically--which could take us fifteen minutes--but I don’t know where the permitted landing sites might be and I don’t want to cause trouble. That means we’ll have to follow the radio beam-- which will take hours--as we spiral down through the atmosphere.”
Pelorat looked cheerful. “But that’s excellent, Golan. Will we be going slowly enough to watch the terrain23?” He held up his portable viewscreen with the map spread out on it at low magnification.
“After a fashion. We’d have to get beneath the cloud deck, and we’ll be moving at a few kilometers per second. It won’t be ballooning through the atmosphere, but you’ll spot the planetography.”
“Excellent! Excellent!”
Trevize said thoughtfully, “I’m wondering, though, if we’ll be on Sayshell Planet long enough to make it worth our while to adjust the ship’s clock to local time.”
“It depends on what we plan to do, I suppose. What do you think we’ll be doing, Golan?”
“Our job is to find Gaia and I don’t know how long that will take.”
Pelorat said, “We can adjust our wrist-strips and leave the ship’s clock as is.”
“Good enough,” said Trevize. He looked down at the planet spreading broadly beneath them. “No use waiting any longer. I’ll adjust the computer to our assigned radio beam and it can use the gravities to mimic24 conventional flight. So! --Let’s go down, Janov, and see what we can find.”
He stared at the planet thoughtfully as the ship began to move on its smoothly25 adjusted gravitational potential-curve.
Trevize had never been in the Sayshell union, but he knew that over the last century it had been steadfastly26 unfriendly to the Foundation. He was surprised--and a little dismayed--they had gotten through Customs so quickly.
It didn’t seem reasonable.
2.
The Customs official’s name was Jogoroth Sobhaddartha and he had been serving on the station on and off for half his life.
He didn’t mind the life, for it gave him a chance--one month out of three--to view his books, to listen to his music, and to be away from his wife and growing son.
Of course, during the last two years the current Head of Customs had been a Dreamer, which was irritating. There is no one so insufferable as a person who gives no other excuse for a peculiar27 action than saying he had been directed to it in a dream.
Personally Sobhaddartha decided28 he believed none of it, though he was careful not to say so aloud, since most people on Sayshell rather disapproved29 of antipsychic doubts. To become known as a materialist30 might put his forthcoming pension at risk.
He stroked the two tufts of hair at his chin, one with his right hand and the other with his left, cleared his throat rather loudly, and then, with inappropriate casualness, said, “Was that the ship, Head?”
The Head, who bore the equally Sayshellian name of Namarath Godhisavatta, was concerned with a matter involving some computer-born data and did not look up. “What ship?” he said.
“TheFar Star . The Foundation ship. The one I just sent past. The one that was holographed from every angle. Was that the one you dreamed of?”
Godhisavatta looked up now. He was a small man, with eyes that were almost black and that were surrounded by fine wrinkles that had not been produced by any penchant31 for smiling. He said, “Why do you ask?”
Sobhaddartha straightened up and allowed his dark and luxuriant eyebrows32 to approach each other. “They said they were tourists, but I’ve never seen a ship like that before and my own opinion is they’re Foundation agents.” --
Godhisavatta sat back in his chair. “See here, my man, try as I might I cannot recall asking for your opinion.”
“But Head, I consider it my patriotic33 duty to point out that--”
Godhisavatta crossed his arms over his chest and stared hard at the underling, who (though much the more impressive in physical stature34 and bearing) allowed himself to droop35 and take on a somehow bedraggled appearance under the gaze of his superior.
Godhisavatta said, “My man,if you know what is good for you, you will do your jobwithout comment--or I’ll see to it that there will be no pension when you retire, which will be soon if I hear any more on a subject that does not concern you.”
In a low voice, Sobhaddartha said, “Yes, sir.” Then, with a suspicious degree of subservience36 in his voice, he added, “Is it within the range of my duties, sir, to report that a second ship is in range of our screens?”
“Consider it reported,” Godhisavatta said irritably37, returning to his work.
“With,” said Sobhaddartha even more humbly38, “characteristics very similar to the one I just sent through.”
Godhisavatta placed his hands on the desk and lifted himself to his feet. “Asecond one?”
Sobhaddartha smiled inwardly. That sanguinary person born of an irregular union (he was referring to the Head) had clearly not dreamed oftwo ships. He said, “Apparently, sir! I will now return to my post and await orders and I hope, sir--”
“Yes?”
Sobhaddartha could not resist, pension-risk notwithstanding. “And I hope, sir, we didn’t send the wrong one through.”
3.
TheFar Star moved rapidly across the face of Sayshell Planet and Pelorat watched with fascination39. The cloud layer was thinner and more scattered40 than upon Terminus and, precisely41 as the map showed, the land surfaces were more compact and extensive--including broader desert areas, to judge by the rusty42 color of much of the continental43 expanse.
There were no signs of anything living. It seemed a world of sterile44 desert, gray plain, of endless wrinkles that might have represented mountainous areas, and, of course, of ocean.
“It looks lifeless,” muttered Pelorat.
“You don’t expect to see any life-signs at this height,” said Trevize. “As we get lower, you’ll see the land turn green in patches. Before that, in fact, you’ll see the twinkling landscape on the nightside. Human beings have a penchant for lighting45 their worlds when darkness falls; I’ve never heard of a world that’s an exception to that rule. In other words, the first sign of life you’ll see will not only be human but technological46.”
Pelorat said thoughtfully, “Human beings are diurnal47 in nature, after all. It seems to me that among the very first tasks of a developing technology would be the conversion48 of night to day. In fact, if a world lacked technology and developed one, you ought to be able to follow the progress of technological development by the increase in light upon the darkened surface. How long would it take, do you suppose, to go from uniform darkness to uniform light?”
Trevize laughed. “You have odd thoughts, but I suppose that comes from being a mythologist49. I don’t think a world would ever achieve a uniform glow. Night light would follow the pattern of population density50, so that the continents would spark in knots and strings51. Even Trantor at its height, when it was one huge structure, let light escape that structure only at scattered points.”
The land turned green as Trevize had predicted and, on the last circling of the globe, he pointed52 out markings that he said were cities. “It’s not a very urban world. I’ve never been in the Sayshell union before, but according to the information the computer gives me, they tend to cling to the past. Technology, in the eyes of all the Galaxy, has been associated with the Foundation, and wherever the Foundation is unpopular, there is a tendency to cling to the past-- except, of course, as far as weapons of war are concerned. I assure you Sayshell is quite modern in that respect.”
“Dear me, Golan, this is not going to be unpleasant, is it? We are Foundationers, after all, and being in enemy territory--”
“It’s not enemy territory, Janov. They’ll be perfectly53 polite, never fear. The Foundation just isn’t popular, that’s all. Sayshell is not part of the Foundation Federation. Therefore, because they’re proud of their independence and because they don’t like to remember that they are much weaker than the Foundation and remain independent only because we’re willing to let them remain so, they indulge in the luxury of disliking us.” --
“I fear it will still be unpleasant, then,” said Pelorat despondently54.
“Not at all,” said Trevize. “Come on, Janov. I’m talking about the official attitude of the Sayshellian government. The individual people on the planet are just people, and if we’re pleasant and don’t act as though we’re Lords of the Galaxy, they’ll be pleasant, too. We’re not coming to Sayshell in order to establish Foundation mastery. We’re just tourists, asking the kind of questions about Sayshell that any tourist would ask.
“And we can have a little legitimate55 relaxation56, too, if the situation permits. There’s nothing wrong with staying here a few days and experiencing what they have to offer. They may have an interesting culture, interesting scenery, interesting food, and--if all else fails--interesting women. We have money to spend.”
Pelorat frowned, “Oh, mydear chap.”
“Come on,” said Trevize. “You’re notthat old. Wouldn’t you be interested?”
“I don’t say there wasn’t a time when I played that role properly, but surely this isn’t the time for it. We have a mission. We want to reach Gaia. I have nothing against a good time--I really don’t--but if we start involving ourselves, it might be difficult to pull free.” He shook his head and said mildly, “I think you feared that I might have too good a time at the Galactic Library on Trantor and would be unable to pull free. Surely, what the Library is to me, an attractive dark-eyed damsel--or five or six--might be to you.”
Trevize said, “I’m not a rakehell, Janov, but I have no intention of being ascetic57, either. Very well, I promise you we’ll get on with this business of Gaia, but if something pleasant comes my way, there’s no reason in the Galaxy I ought not to respond normally.”
“If you’ll just put Gaia first--”
“I will. Just remember, though, don’t tell anyone we’re from the Foundation. They’ll know we are, because we’ve got Foundation credits and we speak with strong Terminus accents, but if we say nothing about it, they can pretend we are placeless strangers and be friendly. If we make apoint of being Foundationers, they will speak politely enough, but they will tell us nothing, show us nothing, take us nowhere, and leave us strictly58 alone.”
Pelorat sighed. “I will never understand people.”
“There’s nothing to it. All you have to do is take a close look at yourself and you will understand everyone else. We’re in no way different ourselves. How would Seldon have worked out his Plan-- and I don’t care how subtle his mathematics was--if he didn’t understand people; and how could he have done that if people weren’t easy to understand? You show me someone who can’t understand people and I’ll show you someone who has built up a false image of himself--no offense59 intended.”
“None taken. I’m willing to admit I’m inexperienced and that I’ve spent a rather self-centered and constricted60 life. It may be that I’ve never really taken a good look at myself, so I’ll let you be my guide and adviser61 where people are concerned.”
“Good. Then take my advice now and just watch the scenery. We’ll be landing soon and I assure you you’ll feel nothing. The computer and I will take care of everything.”
“Golan, don’t be annoyed. If a young woman should--”
“Forget it! Just let me take care of the landing.”
Pelorat turned to look at the world at the end of the ship’s contracting spiral. It would be the first foreign world upon which he would ever stand. This thought somehow filled him with foreboding, despite the fact that all the millions of inhabited planets in the Galaxy had been colonized62 by people who had not been born upon them.
All but one, he thought with a shudder63 of trepidation/delight.
4.
The spaceport was not large by Foundation standards, but it was well kept. Trevize watched theFar Star moved into a berth64 and locked in place. They were given an elaborate coded receipt.
Pelorat said in a low voice, “Do we just leave it here?”
Trevize nodded and placed his hand on the other’s shoulder in reassurance65. “Don’t worry,” he said in an equally low voice.
They stepped into the ground-car they had rented and Trevize plugged in the map of the city, whose towers he could see on the horizon.
“Sayshell City,” he said, “the capital of the planet. City--planet--star--all named Sayshell.”
“I’m worried about the ship,” insisted Pelorat.
“Nothing to worry about,” said Trevize. “We’ll be back tonight, because it will be our sleeping quarters if we have to stay here more than a few hours. You have to understand, too, that there’s an interstellar code of spaceport ethics66 that--as far as I know--has never been broken, even in wartime. Spaceships that come in peace are inviolate67. If that were not so, no one would be safe and trade would be impossible. Any world on which that code was broken would be boycotted68 by the space pilots of the Galaxy. I assure you, no world would risk that. Besides--”
“Besides?”
“Well, besides, I’ve arranged with the computer that anyone who doesn’t look and sound like one of us will be killed if he--or she-- tries to board the ship. I’ve taken the liberty of explaining that to the Port Commander. I told him very politely that I would love to turn off that particular facility out of deference69 to the reputation that the Sayshell City Spaceport holds for absolute integrity and security--throughout the Galaxy, I said--but the ship is a new model and I didn’t knowhow to turn it off.”
“He didn’t believethat , surely.”
“Of course not! But he had to pretend he did, as otherwise he would have no choice but to be insulted. And since there would be nothing he could do about that, being insulted would only lead to humiliation70. And since he didn’t wantthat , the simplest path to follow was to believe what I said.”
“And that’s another example of how people are?”
“Yes. You’ll get used to this.”
“How do you know this ground-car isn’t bugged71?”
“I thought it might be. So when they offered me one, I took another one at random72. If they’re all bugged--well, what have we been saying that’s so terrible?”
Pelorat looked unhappy. “I don’t know how to say this. It seems rather impolite to complain, but I don’t like the way it smells. There’s an--odor.”
“In the ground-car?”
“Well, in the spaceport, to begin with. I suppose that’s the way spaceports smell, but the ground-car carries the odor with it. Could we open the windows?”
Trevize laughed. “I suppose I could figure out which portion of the control panel will do that trick, but it won’t help. This planet stinks73. Is it very bad?”
“It’s not very strong, but it’s noticeable--and somewhat repulsive74. Does the whole world smell this way?”
“I keep forgetting you’ve never been on another world. Every inhabited world has its own odor. It’s the general vegetation, mostly, though I suppose the animals and even the human beings contribute. And as far as I know,nobody ever likes the smell of any world when he first lands on it. But you’ll get used to it, Janov. In a few hours, I promise you won’t notice.”
“Surely you don’t mean that all worlds smell like this.”
“No. As I said, each has its own. If we really paid attention or if our noses were a little keener--like those of Anacreonian dogs--we could probably tell which world we were on with one sniff75. When I first entered the Navy I could never eat the first day on a new world; then I learned the old spacer trick of sniffing76 a handkerchief with the world-scent on it during the landing. By the time you get out into the open world, you don’t smell it. And after a while, you get hardened to the whole thing; you just learn to disregard it. --The worst of it is returning home, in fact.”
“Why?”
“Do you think Terminus doesn’t smell?”
“Are you telling me it does?”
“Of course it does. Once you get acclimated77 to the smell of another world, such as Sayshell, you’ll be surprised at the stench of Terminus. In the old days, whenever the locks opened on Terminus after a sizable tour of duty, all the crew would call out, ‘Back home to the crap.’”
Pelorat looked revolted.
The towers of the city were perceptibly closer, but Pelorat kept his eyes fixed78 on their immediate surroundings. There were other ground-cars moving in both directions and an occasional air-car above, but Pelorat was studying the trees.
He said, “The plant life seems strange. Do you suppose any of it is indigenous79?”
“I doubt it,” said Trevize absently. He was studying the map and attempting to adjust the programming of the car’s computer. “There’s not much in the way of indigenous life on any human planet. Settlers always imported their own plants and animals-- either at the time of settling or not too long afterward80.”
“It seems strange, though.”
“You don’t expect the same varieties from world to world, Janov. I was once told that the Encyclopedia81 Galactica people put out an atlas82 of varieties which ran to eighty-seven fat computer-discs and was incomplete even so--and outdated83 anyway, by the time it was finished.”
The ground-car moved on and the outskirts84 of the city gaped85 and engulfed86 them. Pelorat shivered slightly, “I don’t think much of their city architecture.”
“To each his own,” said Trevize with the indifference87 of the seasoned space traveler.
“Where are we going, by the way?”
“Well,” said Trevize with a certain exasperation88, “I’m trying to get the computer to guide this thing to the tourist center. I hope the computer knows the one-way streets and the traffic regulations, because I don’t.”
“What do we do there, Golan?”
“To begin with, we’re tourists, so that’s the place where we’d naturally go, and we want to be as inconspicuous and natural as we can. And secondly89, where would you go to get information on Gaia?”
Pelorat said, “To a university--or an anthropological90 society--or a museum-- Certainly not to a tourist center.”
“Well, you’re wrong. At the tourist center, we will be intellectual types who are eager to have a listing of the universities in the city and the museums and so on. We’ll decide where to go to first andthere we may find the proper people to consult concerning ancient history, galactography, mythology91, anthropology92, or anything else you can think of. --But the whole thing starts at the tourist center.”
Pelorat was silent and the ground-car moved on in a tortuous93 manner as it joined and became part of the traffic pattern. They plunged94 into a sub-road and drove past signs that might have represented directions and traffic instructions but were in a style of lettering that made them all-but-unreadable.
Fortunately the ground-car behaved as though it knew the way, and when it stopped and drew itself into a parking spot, there was a sign that said: SAYSHELL OUT-WORLD MILIEU95 in the same difficult printing, and under it: SAYSHELL TOURIST CENTER in straightforward96, easy-to-read Galactic Standard lettering.
They walked into the building, which was not as large as the fa?ade had led them to believe. ft was certainly not busy inside.
There were a series of waiting booths, one of which was occupied by a man reading the news-strips emerging from a small ejector; another contained two women who seemed to be playing some intricate game with cards and tiles. Behind a counter too large for him, with winking97 computer controls that seemed far too complex for him, was a bored-looking Sayshellian functionary98 wearing what looked like a multicolored checkerboard.
Pelorat stared and whispered, “This is certainly a world of extroverted99 garb100.”
“Yes,” said Trevize, “I noticed. Still, fashions change from world to world and even from region to region within a world sometimes. And they change with time. Fifty years ago, everyone on Sayshell might have worn black, for all we know. Take it as it comes, Janov.”
“I suppose I’ll have to,” said Pelorat, “but I prefer our own fashions. At least, they’re not an assault upon the optic nerve.”
“Because so many of us are gray on gray? That offends some people. I’ve heard it referred to as ‘dressing in dirt.’ Then too, it’s Foundation colorlessness that probably keeps these people in their rainbows--just to emphasize their independence. It’s all what you’re accustomed to, anyway. --Come on, Janov.”
The two headed toward the counter and, as they did so, the man in the booth forsook101 his news items, rose, and came to meet them, smiling as he did so.His clothing was in shades of gray.
Trevize didn’t look in his direction at first, but when he did he stopped dead.
He took a deep breath, “By the Galaxy-- My friend, the traitor102!”
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orb
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| n.太阳；星球；v.弄圆；成球形 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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prominence
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| n.突出；显著；杰出；重要 | |
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aplomb
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| n.沉着，镇静 | |
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ecological
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| adj.生态的，生态学的 | |
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undesirable
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| adj.不受欢迎的，不良的，不合意的，讨厌的；n.不受欢迎的人，不良分子 | |
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federation
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| n.同盟，联邦，联合，联盟，联合会 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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garish
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| adj.华丽而俗气的，华而不实的 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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cargo
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| n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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bribe
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| n.贿赂；v.向…行贿，买通 | |
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bribed
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| v.贿赂( bribe的过去式和过去分词 )；向（某人）行贿，贿赂 | |
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contraband
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wavelength
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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galaxy
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| n.星系；银河系；一群(杰出或著名的人物) | |
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courteous
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terrain
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mimic
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smoothly
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steadfastly
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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disapproved
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| v.不赞成( disapprove的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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materialist
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| n. 唯物主义者 | |
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penchant
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| n.爱好，嗜好；（强烈的）倾向 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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patriotic
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| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
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stature
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| n.（高度）水平，（高度）境界，身高，身材 | |
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droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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subservience
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| n.有利，有益；从属（地位），附属性；屈从，恭顺；媚态 | |
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irritably
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| ad.易生气地 | |
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humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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continental
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| adj.大陆的，大陆性的，欧洲大陆的 | |
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sterile
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| adj.不毛的，不孕的，无菌的，枯燥的，贫瘠的 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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technological
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| adj.技术的；工艺的 | |
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diurnal
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| adj.白天的，每日的 | |
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conversion
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| n.转化，转换，转变 | |
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mythologist
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| n.神话学家；神话作家 | |
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density
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| n.密集，密度，浓度 | |
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strings
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| n.弦 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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despondently
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| adv.沮丧地，意志消沉地 | |
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legitimate
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| adj.合法的，合理的，合乎逻辑的；v.使合法 | |
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relaxation
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| n.松弛，放松；休息；消遣；娱乐 | |
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ascetic
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| adj.禁欲的；严肃的 | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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constricted
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| adj.抑制的，约束的 | |
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adviser
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| n.劝告者，顾问 | |
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colonized
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| 开拓殖民地，移民于殖民地( colonize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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berth
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| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
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reassurance
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| n.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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ethics
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| n.伦理学；伦理观，道德标准 | |
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inviolate
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| adj.未亵渎的，未受侵犯的 | |
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boycotted
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| 抵制，拒绝参加( boycott的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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bugged
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| vt.在…装窃听器（bug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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stinks
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| v.散发出恶臭( stink的第三人称单数 )；发臭味；名声臭；糟透 | |
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repulsive
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| adj.排斥的，使人反感的 | |
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sniff
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| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
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sniffing
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| n.探查法v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的现在分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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acclimated
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| v.使适应新环境，使服水土服水土，适应( acclimate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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indigenous
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| adj.土产的，土生土长的，本地的 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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encyclopedia
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| n.百科全书 | |
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atlas
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| n.地图册，图表集 | |
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outdated
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| adj.旧式的，落伍的，过时的；v.使过时 | |
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outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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gaped
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| v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的过去式和过去分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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engulfed
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| v.吞没，包住( engulf的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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exasperation
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| n.愤慨 | |
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secondly
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| adv.第二，其次 | |
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anthropological
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| adj.人类学的 | |
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91
mythology
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| n.神话，神话学，神话集 | |
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92
anthropology
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| n.人类学 | |
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tortuous
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| adj.弯弯曲曲的，蜿蜒的 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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milieu
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| n.环境；出身背景；(个人所处的)社会环境 | |
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straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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98
functionary
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| n.官员；公职人员 | |
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99
extroverted
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| a.性格外向的 | |
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100
garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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101
forsook
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| forsake的过去式 | |
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102
traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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