"Papers, please?" She marked, and Bart noticed that she was using a red pencil.
"Bartol," she said aloud. "Is that how you pronounce it?" She made small scribbles2 in a sort of shorthand with the red pencil, then made other marks with the black one in Lhari; he supposed the red marks were her own private memoranda3, unreadable by the Lhari.
"Next, please." She handed a cup of the greenish stuff to Ringg, behind him. Bart went down toward the drive room, and to his own surprise, found himself wishing the girl were a mathematician4 rather than a medic. It would have been pleasant to watch her down there.
Old Rugel, on duty in the drive room, watched Bart strap5 himself in before the computer. "Make sure you check all dials at null," he reminded him, and Bart felt a last surge of panic.
This was his first cruise, except for practice runs at the Academy! Yet his rating called him an experienced man on the Polaris run. He'd had the Lhari training tape, which was supposed to condition his responses, but would it? He tried to clench6 his fists, drove a claw into his palm, winced7, and commanded himself to stay calm and keep his mind on what he was doing.
It calmed him to make the routine check of his dials.
"Strapdown check," said a Lhari with a yellowed crest8 and a rasping voice. "New man, eh?" He gave Bart's straps9 perfunctory tugs10 at shoulders and waist, tightened11 a buckle12. "Karol son of Garin."
Vorongil strode through the door, his banded cloak sweeping14 behind him, and took the control couch.
"Ready from fueling room, sir."
"Position," Vorongil snapped.
"Communication."
"Well," Vorongil said, slowly and almost reflectively, "let's take her up then."
He touched some controls. The humming grew. Then, swift, hard and crushing, weight mashed17 Bart against his couch.
"Position!" Vorongil's voice sounded harsh, and Bart fought the crushing weight of it. Even his eyeballs ached as he struggled to turn the tiny eye muscles from dial to dial, and his voice was a dim croak18: "Fourteen seven sidereal19 twelve point one one four nine...."
"Hold it to point one one four six," Vorongil said calmly.
"Point one one four six," Bart said, and his claws stabbed at dials. Suddenly, in spite of the cold weight on his chest, the pain, the struggle, he felt as if he were floating. He managed a long, luxurious20 breath. He could handle it. He knew what he was doing.
He was an Astrogator....
Later, when Acceleration21 One had reached its apex22 and the artificial gravity made the ship a place of comfort again, he went down to the dining hall with Ringg and met the crew of the Swiftwing. There were twelve officers and twelve crewmen of various ratings like himself and Ringg, but there seemed to be little social division between them, as there would have been on a human ship; officers and crew joked and argued without formality of any kind.
None of them gave him a second look. Later, in the Recreation Lounge, Ringg challenged him to a game with one of the pinball machines. It seemed fairly simple to Bart; he tried it, and to his own surprise, won.
Old Rugel touched a lever at the side of the room. With a tiny whishing sound, shutters23 opened, the light of Procyon Alpha flooded them and he looked out through a great viewport into bottomless space.
Procyon Alpha, Beta and Gamma hung at full, rings gently tilted24. Beyond them the stars burned, flaming through the shimmers26 of cosmic dust. The colors, the never-ending colors of space!
And he stood here, in a room full of monsters—he was one of the monsters—
"Which one of the planets was it we stopped on?" Rugel asked. "I can't tell 'em apart from this distance."
Bartol swallowed; he had almost said the blue one. He pointed27. "The—the big one there, with the rings almost edge-on. I think they call it Alpha."
"It's their planet," said Rugel. "I guess they can call it what they want to. How about another game?"
The first week in space was a nightmare of strain. He welcomed the hours on watch in the drive room; there alone he was sure of what he was doing. Everywhere else in the ship he was perpetually scared, perpetually on tiptoe, perpetually afraid of making some small and stupid mistake. Once he actually called Aldebaran a red star, but Rugel either did not hear the slip or thought he was repeating what one of the Mentorians—there were two aboard besides the girl—had said.
The absence of color from speech and life was the hardest thing to get used to. Every star in the manual was listed by light-frequency waves, to be checked against a photometer for a specific reading, and it almost drove Bart mad to go through the ritual when the Mentorians were off duty and could not call off the color and the equivalent frequency type for him. Yet he did not dare skip a single step, or someone might have guessed that he could see the difference between a yellow and a green star before checking them.
The Academy ships had had the traditional human signal system of flashing red lights. Bart was stretched taut32 all the time, listening for the small codelike buzzers33 and ticks that warned him of filled tanks, leads in need of servicing, answers ready. Ringg's metal-fatigues testing kit35 was a bewildering muddle36 of boxes, meters, rods and earphones, each buzzing and clicking its characteristic warning.
At first he felt stretched to capacity every waking moment, his memory aching with a million details, and lay awake nights thinking his mind would crack under the strain. Then Alpha faded to a dim bluish shimmer25, Beta was eclipsed, Gamma was gone, Procyon dimmed to a failing spark; and suddenly Bart's memory accustomed itself to the load, the new habits were firmly in place, and he found himself eating, sleeping and working in a settled routine.
He belonged to the Swiftwing now.
Procyon was almost lost in the viewports when a sort of upswept tempo37 began to run through the ship, an undercurrent of increased activity. Cargo38 was checked, inventoried39 and strapped40 in. Ringg was given four extra men to help him, made an extra tour of the ship, and came back buzzing like a frantic41 cricket. Bart's computers told him they were forging toward the sidereal location assigned for the first of the warp42-drive shifts, which would take them some fifteen light-years toward Aldebaran.
On the final watch before the warp-drive shift, the medical officer came around and relieved the Mentorians from duty. Bart watched them go, with a curious, cold, crawling apprehension43. Even the Mentorians, trusted by the Lhari—even these were put into cold-sleep! Fear grabbed his insides.
No human had ever survived the shift into warp-drive, the Lhari said. Briscoe, his father, Raynor Three—they thought they had proved that the Lhari lied. If they were right, if it was a Lhari trick to reinforce their stranglehold on the human worlds and keep the warp-drive for themselves, then Bart had nothing to fear. But he was afraid.
Raynor Three had said, Because I belong in space, because I'm never happy anywhere else. Bart looked out the viewport at the swirl45 and burn of the colors there. Now that he could never speak of the colors, it seemed he had never been so wholly and wistfully aware of them. They symbolized46 the thing he could never put into words.
So that everyone can have this. Not just the Lhari.
Rugel watched the Mentorians go, scowling47. "I wish medic would find a way to keep them alive through warp," he said. "My Mentorian assistant could watch that frequency-shift as we got near the bottom of the arc, and I'll bet she could see it. They can see the changes in intensity48 faster than I can plot them on the photometer!"
Bart felt goosebumps break out on his skin. Rugel spoke49 as if the certain death of humans, Mentorians, was a fact. Didn't the Lhari themselves know it was a farce50? Or was it?
Vorongil himself took the controls for the surge of Acceleration Two, which would take them past the Light Barrier. Bart, watching his instruments to exact position and time, saw the colors of each star shift strangely, moment by moment. The red stars seemed hard to see. The orange-yellow ones burned suddenly like flame; the green ones seemed golden, the blue ones almost green. Dimly, he remembered the old story of a "red shift" in the lights of approaching stars, but here he saw it pure, a sight no human eyes had ever seen. A sight that no eyes had seen, human or otherwise, for the Lhari could not see it....
Rugel looked across from his couch. Bart felt that the old, scarred Lhari could read his fear. Rugel said through a wheeze52, "No matter how old you get, Bartol, you're still scared when you make a warp-shift. But relax, computers don't make mistakes."
"Catalyst," Vorongil snapped, "Ready—shift!"
At first there was no change; then Bart realized that the stars, through the viewport, had altered abruptly53 in size and shade and color. They were not sparks but strange streaks54, like comets, crossing and recrossing long tails that grew, longer and longer, moment by moment. The dark night of space was filled with a crisscrossing blaze. They were moving faster than light, they saw the light left by the moving Universe as each star hurled55 in its own invisible orbit, while they tore incredibly through it, faster than light itself....
Bart felt a curious, tingling56 discomfort57, deep in his flesh; almost an itching29, a stinging in his very bones.
Lhari flesh is no different from ours....
Space, through the viewport, was no longer space as he had come to know it, but a strange eerie58 limbo59, the star-tracks lengthening60, shifting color until they filled the whole viewport with shimmering61, gray, recrossing light. The unbelievable reaction of warp-drive thrust them through space faster than the lights of the surrounding stars, faster than imagination could follow.
The lights in the drive chamber62 began to dim—or was he blacking out? The stinging in his flesh was a clawed pain.
Briscoe lived through it....
They say.
The whirling star-tracks fogged, coiled, turned colorless worms of light, went into a single vast blur63. Dimly Bart saw old Rugel slump64 forward, moaning softly; saw the old Lhari pillow his bald head on his veined arms. Then darkness took him; and thinking it was death, Bart felt only numb65, regretful failure. I've failed, we'll always fail. The Lhari were right all long.
But we tried! By God, we tried!
"Bartol?" A gentle hand, cat claws retracted66, came down on his shoulder. Ringg bent over him. Good-natured rebuke67 was in his voice. "Why didn't you tell us you got a bad reaction, and ask to sign out for this shift?" he demanded. "Look, poor old Rugel's passed out again. He just won't admit he can't take it—but one idiot on a watch is enough! Some people just feel as if the bottom's dropped out of the ship, and that's all there is to it."
Bart hauled his head upright, fighting a surge of stinging nausea68. His bones itched69 inside and he was damnably uncomfortable, but he was alive.
"I'm—fine."
"You look it," Ringg said in derision. "Think you can help me get Rugel to his cabin?"
Bart struggled to his feet, and found that when he was upright he felt better. "Wow!" he muttered, then clamped his mouth shut. He was supposed to be an experienced man, a Lhari hardened to space. He said woozily, "How long was I out?"
"The usual time," Ringg said briskly, "about three seconds—just while we hit peak warp-drive. Feels longer, so they tell me, sometimes—time's funny, beyond light-speeds. The medic says it's purely70 psychological. I'm not so sure. I itch30, blast it!"
He moved his shoulders in a squirming way, then bent over Rugel, who was moaning, half insensible. "Catch hold of his feet, Bartol. Here—ease him out of his chair. No sense bothering the medics this time. Think you can manage to help me carry him down to the deck?"
"Sure," Bart said, finding his feet and his voice. He felt better as they moved along the hallway, the limp, muttering form of the old Lhari insensible in their arms. They reached the officer's deck, got Rugel into his cabin and into his bunk71, hauled off his cloak and boots. Ringg stood shaking his head.
"And they say Captain Vorongil's so tough!"
Bart made a questioning noise.
"Why, just look," said Ringg. "He knows it would make poor old Rugel feel as if he wasn't good for much—to order him into his bunk and make him take dope like a Mentorian for every warp-shift. So we have this to go through at every jump!" He sounded cross and disgusted, but there was a rough, boyish gentleness as he hauled the blanket over the bald old Lhari. He looked up, almost shyly.
"Thanks for helping72 me with Old Baldy. We usually try to get him out before Vorongil officially takes notice. Of course, he sort of keeps his back turned," Ringg said, and they laughed together as they turned back to the drive room. Bart found himself thinking, Ringg's a good kid, before he pulled himself up, in sudden shock.
He had lived through warp-drive! Then, indeed, the Lhari had been lying all along, the vicious lie that maintained their stranglehold monopoly of star-travel. He was their enemy again, the spy within their gates, like Briscoe, to be hunted down and killed, but to bring the message, loud and clear, to everyone: The Lhari lied! The stars can belong to us all!
When he got back to the drive room, he saw through the viewport that the blur had vanished, the star-trails were clear, distinct again, their comet-tails shortening by the moment, their colors more distinct.
The Lhari were waiting, a few poised73 over their instruments, a few more standing74 at the quartz75 window watching the star-trails, some squirming and scratching and grousing76 about "space fleas"—the characteristic itching reaction that seemed to be deep down inside the bones.
Bart checked his panels, noted77 the time when they were due to snap back into normal space, and went to stand by the viewport. The stars were reappearing, seeming to steady and blaze out in cloudy splendor78 through the bright dust. They burned in great streamers of flame, and for the moment he forgot his mission again, lost in the beauty of the fiery79 lights. He drew a deep, shaking gasp80. It was worth it all, to see this! He turned and saw Ringg, silent, at his shoulder.
"Me, too," Ringg said, almost in a whisper. "I think every man on board feels that way, a little, only he won't admit it." His slanted81 gray eyes looked quickly at Bart and away.
"I guess we're almost down to L-point. Better check the panel and report nulls, so medic can wake up the Mentorians."
The Swiftwing moved on between the stars. Aldebaran loomed82, then faded in the viewports; another shift jumped them to a star whose human name Bart did not know. Shift followed shift, spaceport followed spaceport, sun followed sun; men lived on most of these worlds, and on each of them a Lhari spaceport rose, alien and arrogant83. And on each world men looked at Lhari with resentful eyes, cursing the race who kept the stars for their own.
Cargo amassed84 in the holds of the Swiftwing, from worlds beyond all dreams of strangeness. Bart grew, not bored, but hardened to the incredible. For days at a time, no word of human speech crossed his mind.
The blackout at peak of each warp-shift persisted. Vorongil had given him permission to report off duty, but since the blackouts did not impair85 his efficiency, Bart had refused. Rugel told him that this was the moment of equilibrium86, the peak of the faster-than-light motion.
"Perhaps a true limiting speed beyond which nothing will ever go," Vorongil said, touching87 the charts with a varnished88 claw. Rugel's scarred old mouth spread in a thin smile.
"Maybe there's no such thing as a limiting speed. Someday we'll reach true simultaneity—enter warp, and come out just where we want to be, at the same time. Just a split-second interval89. That will be real transmission."
Ringg scoffed90, "And suppose you get even better—and come out of warp before you go into it? What then, Honorable Bald One?"
Rugel chuckled91, and did not answer. Bart turned away. It was not easy to keep on hating the Lhari.
There came a day when he came on watch to see drawn92, worried faces; and when Ringg came into the drive room they threw their levers on automatic and crowded around him, their crests93 bobbing in question and dismay. Vorongil seemed to emit sparks as he barked at Ringg, "You found it?"
Vorongil swore, and Ringg held up a hand in protest. "I only locate metals fatigue34, sir—I don't make it!"
"No help for it then," Vorongil said. "We'll have to put down for repairs. How much time do we have, Ringg?"
"I give it thirty hours," Ringg said briefly, and Vorongil gave a long shrill96 whistle. "Bartol, what's the closest listed spaceport?"
Bart dived for handbooks, manuals, comparative tables of position, and started programming information. The crew drifted toward him, and by the time he finished feeding in the coded information, a row three-deep of Lhari surrounded him, including all the officers. Vorongil was right at his shoulder when Bart slipped on his earphones and started decoding97 the punched strips that fed out the answers from the computer.
"Nearest port is Cottman Four. It's almost exactly thirty hours away."
"I don't like to run it that close." Vorongil's face was bitten deep with lines. He turned to Ramillis, head of Maintenance. "Do we need spare parts? Or just general repairs?"
"Just repairs, sir. We have plenty of shielding metal. It's a long job to get through the hulls98, but there's nothing we can't fix."
Vorongil flexed99 his clawed hands nervously100, stretching and retracting101 them. "Ringg, you're the fatigue expert. I'll take your word for it. Can we make thirty hours?"
Ringg looked pale and there was none of his usual boyish nonsense when he said, "Captain, I swear I wouldn't risk Cottman. You know what crystallization's like, sir. We can't get through that hull lining to repair it in space, if it does go before we land. We wouldn't have the chance of a hydrogen atom in a tank of halogens."
Vorongil's slanted eyebrows102 made a single unbroken line. "That's the word then. Bartol, find us the closest star with a planet—spaceport or not."
Bart's hands were shaking with sudden fear. He checked each digit103 of their present position, fed it into the computer, waited, finally wet his lips and plunged104, taking the strip from a computer.
"This small star, called Meristem. It's a—" he bit his lip, hard; he had almost said green—"type Q, two planets with atmosphere within tolerable limits, not classified as inhabited."
"Who owns it?"
"I don't have that information on the banks, sir."
Vorongil beckoned105 the Mentorian assistant. So apart were Lhari and Mentorian on these ships that Bart did not even know his name. He said, "Look up a star called Meristem for us." The Mentorian hurried away, came back after a moment with the information that it belonged to the Second Galaxy106 Federation107, but was listed as unexplored.
Vorongil scowled108. "Well, we can claim necessity," he said. "It's only eight hours away, and Cottman's thirty. Bartol, plot us a warp-drive shift that will land us in that system, and on the inner of the two planets, within nine hours. If it's a type Q star, that means dim illumination, and no spaceport mercury-vapor installations. We'll need as much sunlight as we can get."
It was the first time that Bart, unaided, had had the responsibility of plotting a warp-drive shift. He checked the coordinates109 of the small green star three times before passing them along to Vorongil. Even so, when they went into Acceleration Two, he felt stinging fear. If I plotted wrong, we could shift into that crazy space and come out billions of miles away....
But when the stars steadied and took on their own colors, the blaze of a small green sun was steady in the viewport.
"Meristem," Vorongil said, taking the controls himself. "Let's hope the place is really uninhabited and that catalogue's up to date, lads. It wouldn't be any fun to burn up some harmless village, or get shot at by barbarians—and we're setting down with no control-tower signals and no spaceport repair crews. So let's hope our luck holds out for a while yet."
Bart, feeling the minute, unsteady trembling somewhere in the ship—Imagination, he told himself, you can't feel metal-fatigue somewhere in the hull lining—echoed the wish. He did not know that he had already had the best luck of his unique voyage, or realize the fantastic luck that had brought him to the small green star Meristem.
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1
triangular
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| adj.三角（形）的，三者间的 | |
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scribbles
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| n.潦草的书写( scribble的名词复数 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下v.潦草的书写( scribble的第三人称单数 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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memoranda
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| n. 备忘录, 便条 名词memorandum的复数形式 | |
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mathematician
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| n.数学家 | |
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strap
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| n.皮带，带子；v.用带扣住，束牢；用绷带包扎 | |
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clench
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| vt.捏紧（拳头等），咬紧（牙齿等），紧紧握住 | |
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winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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straps
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| n.带子( strap的名词复数 )；挎带；肩带；背带v.用皮带捆扎( strap的第三人称单数 )；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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tugs
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| n.猛拉( tug的名词复数 )；猛拖；拖船v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的第三人称单数 ) | |
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11
tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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buckle
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| n.扣子，带扣；v.把...扣住，由于压力而弯曲 | |
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tonic
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| n./adj.滋补品，补药，强身的，健体的 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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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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pylon
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| n.高压电线架，桥塔 | |
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mashed
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| a.捣烂的 | |
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croak
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| vi.嘎嘎叫，发牢骚 | |
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sidereal
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| adj.恒星的 | |
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luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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acceleration
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| n.加速，加速度 | |
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apex
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| n.顶点，最高点 | |
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shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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shimmer
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| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
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shimmers
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| n.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的名词复数 )v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的第三人称单数 ) | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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itching
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| adj.贪得的，痒的，渴望的v.发痒( itch的现在分词 ) | |
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itch
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| n.痒，渴望，疥癣；vi.发痒，渴望 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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taut
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| adj.拉紧的，绷紧的，紧张的 | |
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buzzers
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| n.门铃( buzzer的名词复数 )；蜂音器（的声音）；发嗡嗡声的东西或人；汽笛 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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kit
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| n.用具包，成套工具；随身携带物 | |
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muddle
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| n.困惑，混浊状态；vt.使混乱，使糊涂，使惊呆；vi.胡乱应付，混乱 | |
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tempo
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| n.(音乐的)速度；节奏，行进速度 | |
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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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inventoried
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| vt.编制…的目录（inventory的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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42
warp
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| vt.弄歪，使翘曲，使不正常，歪曲，使有偏见 | |
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43
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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44
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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45
swirl
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| v.(使)打漩，(使)涡卷；n.漩涡，螺旋形 | |
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symbolized
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| v.象征，作为…的象征( symbolize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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47
scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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48
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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49
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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50
farce
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| n.闹剧，笑剧，滑稽戏；胡闹 | |
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51
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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52
wheeze
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| n.喘息声，气喘声；v.喘息着说 | |
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53
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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54
streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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55
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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56
tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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57
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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eerie
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| adj.怪诞的；奇异的；可怕的；胆怯的 | |
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limbo
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| n.地狱的边缘；监狱 | |
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60
lengthening
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| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的现在分词 )； 加长 | |
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shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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blur
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| n.模糊不清的事物；vt.使模糊，使看不清楚 | |
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slump
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| n.暴跌，意气消沉，（土地）下沉；vi.猛然掉落，坍塌，大幅度下跌 | |
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numb
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| adj.麻木的，失去感觉的；v.使麻木 | |
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retracted
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| v.撤回或撤消( retract的过去式和过去分词 )；拒绝执行或遵守；缩回；拉回 | |
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rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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nausea
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| n.作呕，恶心；极端的憎恶(或厌恶) | |
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itched
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| v.发痒( itch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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quartz
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| n.石英 | |
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grousing
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| v.抱怨，发牢骚( grouse的现在分词 ) | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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slanted
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| 有偏见的； 倾斜的 | |
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82
loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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arrogant
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
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amassed
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| v.积累，积聚( amass的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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impair
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| v.损害，损伤；削弱，减少 | |
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equilibrium
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| n.平衡，均衡，相称，均势，平静 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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varnished
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| 浸渍过的，涂漆的 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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scoffed
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| 嘲笑，嘲弄( scoff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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92
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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crests
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| v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的第三人称单数 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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94
hull
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| n.船身；(果、实等的)外壳；vt.去(谷物等)壳 | |
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lining
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| n.衬里，衬料 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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97
decoding
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| n.译码，解码v.译（码），解（码）( decode的现在分词 )；分析及译解电子信号 | |
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98
hulls
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| 船体( hull的名词复数 )； 船身； 外壳； 豆荚 | |
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99
flexed
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| adj.[医]曲折的，屈曲v.屈曲( flex的过去式和过去分词 )；弯曲；（为准备大干而）显示实力；摩拳擦掌 | |
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100
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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101
retracting
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| v.撤回或撤消( retract的现在分词 )；拒绝执行或遵守；缩回；拉回 | |
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102
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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103
digit
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| n.零到九的阿拉伯数字，手指，脚趾 | |
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104
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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105
beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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106
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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107
federation
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| n.同盟，联邦，联合，联盟，联合会 | |
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108
scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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109
coordinates
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| n.相配之衣物；坐标( coordinate的名词复数 )；（颜色协调的）配套服装；[复数]女套服；同等重要的人（或物）v.使协调，使调和( coordinate的第三人称单数 )；协调；协同；成为同等 | |
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