In his even handwriting, small but perfectly3 legible, Gibarian had written two lines:
Supplement Dir. Solar. Vol 1.: Vot. Separat.
Messenger ds aff. F.; Ravintzer: The Little Apocrypha4.
That was all, not another word. Did these two lines contain some vital piece of information?
When had he written them? I told myself that the first thing to do was to consult the libraryindex. I knew the supplement to the first volume of the annual of Solarist studies; or rather,without having read it, I knew of its existence—but was it not a document of purely5 historicalinterest? As for Ravintzer and The Little Apocrypha, I had never heard of them.
What next?
I was already a quarter of an hour late for my meeting with Snow. With my back to the door, Ilooked the room over carefully once more. Only then did I notice the bed standing6 up againstthe wall, half concealed7 by a large map of Solaris. Something was hanging down behind themap; it was a pocket tape-recorder, and I noted8 that nine tenths of the tape had been used. Itook the machine out of its case (which I hung back where I had found it) and slipped it intomy pocket.
Before leaving, I listened intently with my eyes closed. There was no sound from outside. Iopened the door on to a yawning gulf9 of darkness—until it occurred to me to remove my darkglasses. The dome10 was feebly lit by the glowing filaments11 in the ceiling.
A number of corridors spread out in a star-shaped pattern between the four doors of thesleeping quarters and the narrow passage leading to the radio-cabin. Suddenly, looming12 up inthe opening which led to the communal13 bathroom, a tall silhouette14 appeared, barelydistinguishable in the surrounding gloom. I stood stock still, frozen to the spot. A giant Negresswas coming silently towards me with a smooth, rolling gait. I caught a gleam from the whitesof her eyes and heard the soft slapping of her bare feet. She was wearing nothing but a yellowskirt of plaited straw; her enormous breasts swung freely and her black arms were as thick asthighs. Less than a yard separated us as she passed me, but she did not give me so much as aglance. She went on her way, her grass skirt swinging rhythmically15, resembling one of thosesteatopygous statues in anthropological16 museums. She opened Gibarian's door and on thethreshold her silhouette stood out distinctly against the bright light from inside the room. Thenshe closed the door behind her and I was alone.
Terror-stricken, I stared blankly round the big, empty hall. What had happened? What had Iseen? Suddenly, my mind reeled as I recalled Snow's warnings. Who was this monstrousAphrodite? I took a step, a single pace, in the direction of Gibarian's room, but I knew perfectlywell that I would not go in.
I do not know how long I remained leaning against the cool metal wall, hearing nothing exceptthe distant, monotonous17 whine18 of the air-conditioners. Eventually I pulled myself together andmade my way to the radio-cabin. As I pressed down the door handle, I heard a harsh voice:
"Who's there?""It's me, Kelvin."Snow was seated at a table between a pile of aluminum19 crates20 and the transmitter, eating meatconcentrate straight out of a tin. Did he then never leave the place? Dazedly21, I watched himchewing until I realized that I, too, was famished22. I went to a cupboard, selected the least dustyplate I could find, and sat down opposite Snow. We ate in silence.
Snow got up, uncorked a vacuum flask23 and filled two tumblers with clear, hot soup. Then heput the flask down on the floor; there was no room on the table.
"Have you seen Sartorius?" he asked.
"No. Where is he?""Upstairs."Upstairs: that meant the laboratory. We finished our meal without exchanging another word,Snow dutifully scraping the bottom of his tin. The outer shutter24 was in place over the windowand reflections from the four ceiling lights gleamed on the laminated surface of the transmitter.
Snow had put on a loose black sweater, frayed25 at the wrists. The taut26 skin over his cheekboneswas marbled with tiny blood-vessels.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"Nothing, why?""You're pouring with sweat."I wiped my forehead. It was true, I was dripping wet; it must have been reaction, after myunexpected encounter. Snow gave me a questioning glance. Should I tell him? If only he hadtaken me into his confidence…What incomprehensible game was being played here, and whowas whose enemy?
"It's hot. I should have expected your air-conditioning to work better than this!""It adjusts itself automatically every hour." He looked at me closely. "Are you sure it's only theheat?"I did not answer. He tossed the utensils27 and the empty tins into the sink, returned to hisarmchair and went on with his interrogation.
"What are your plans?""That depends on you," I answered coolly. "I suppose you have a research programme? A newstimulus, X-rays, that sort of thing…"He frowned.
"X-rays? Who's been talking to you about that?""I don't remember. Someone dropped a hint—on the Prometheus perhaps. Why, have youbegun?""I don't know the details, it was an idea of Gibarian's. He and Sartorius set it up together. Iwonder how you could have heard of it."I shrugged28 my shoulders.
"Funny that you shouldn't know the details. You ought to, since you're the one who…"I left the sentence unfinished; Snow said nothing.
The whining30 of the air-conditioners had stopped. The temperature stayed at a bearable level,but a high-pitched drone persisted, like the buzzing of a dying insect.
Snow got up from his chair and leaned over the console of the transmitter. He began to pressknobs at random31, and to no effect, since he had left the activating32 switch off. He went onfidgeting with them for a moment, then he remarked:
"There are certain formalities to be dealt with concerning…""Yes?" I prompted, to his back.
He turned round and gave me a hostile look. Involuntarily, I had annoyed him; but ignorant ofthe role he was playing. I could only wait and see. His Adam's apple rose and fell inside thecollar of his sweater:
"You've been into Gibarian's room," he blurted33 out accusingly.
I looked at him calmly.
"You have been in there, haven't you?""If you say so…""Was there anyone there?"So he had seen her, or, at least, knew of her existence!
"No, no one. Who could there have been?""Why didn't you let me in, then?""Because I was afraid. I thought of your warnings and when the handle moved, I automaticallyhung on to it. Why didn't you say it was you? I would have let you in.""I thought it was Sartorius," he answered, in a faltering34 voice.
"And suppose it had been?"Once again, he parried my question with one of his own.
"What do you think happened in there?"I hesitated.
"You're the one who should know. Where is he?""Gibarian? In the cold store. We took him there straight away this morning, after we'd foundhim in the locker.""The locker? Was he dead?""His heart was still beating, but he had stopped breathing.""Did you try resuscitation35?""No.""Why not?""I didn't have the chance," he mumbled36. "By the time I'd moved him, he was dead."Snow picked up a sheet of paper from the fitted desk in the corner and held it out to me.
"I have drafted a post-mortem report. I'm not sorry you've seen the room, as a matter of fact.
Cause of death—pernostal injection, lethal37 dose. It's all here…"I ran my eyes over the paper, and murmured:
"Suicide? For what reason?""Nervous troubles, depression, call it what you like. You know more about that sort of thingthan I do."I was still seated; Snow was standing over me.
Looking him in the eye, I said:
"I only know what I've seen for myself.""What are you trying to say?" he asked calmly.
"He injected himself with pernostal and hid in the locker, right? In that case, it's not a questionof nervous troubles or a fit of depression, but of a very serious paranoid condition." Speakingmore and more deliberately38 and continuing to look him in the eyes, I added: "What is certain isthat he thought he saw something."Snow began fiddling39 with the transmitter again.
After a moment's silence, I went on.
"Your signature's here. What about Sartorius's?""As I told you, he's in the laboratory. He never shows his face. I suppose he's…""What?""Locked himself in.""Locked himself in? I see…you mean he's barricaded40 himself in?""Possibly.""Snow, there's someone on the Station. Someone apart from us."He had stopped playing with the knobs and was leaning sideways, staring at me.
"You've seen it!""You warned me. Against what? Against whom? An hallucination?""What did you see?""Shall we say…a human being?"He remained silent. Turning his back as though to hide his face from me, he tapped the metalplating with his finger-tips. I looked at his hands; there was no longer any trace of bloodbetween the fingers. I had a brief moment of dizziness.
In scarcely more than a whisper, as though I were imparting a secret and afraid of beingoverhead, I said:
"It's not a mirage41, is it? It's a real person, someone you can touch, someone you can…drawblood from. And what's more, someone you've seen only today.""How do you know?"He had not moved; his face was still obstinately42 turned to the wall and I was addressing hisback.
"It was before I arrived, just before I arrived, wasn't it?"His whole body contracted, and I could see his panic-stricken expression.
"What about you?" he said in a strangled voice, "who are you?"I thought he was about to attack me. It was not at all the reaction I had expected. The situationwas becoming grotesque43. Obviously, he did not believe that I was who I claimed to be. Butwhat could this mean? He was becoming more and more terrified of me. Was he delirious44?
Could he have been affected45 by unfiltered gases from the planet's atmosphere? Anythingseemed possible. And then again, I too had seen this…creature, so what about me?
"Who is she?" I asked.
These words reassured46 him. For a moment, he looked at me searchingly, as though he was stilldoubtful of me; then he collapsed47 into his chair and put his head in his hands. Even before heopened his mouth, I knew that he had still not made up his mind to give me a direct answer.
"I'm worn out," he said weakly.
"Who is she?" I insisted.
"If you don't know…""Go on, know what?""Nothing.""Listen, Snow! We are isolated48, completely cut off. Let's put our cards on the table. Things areconfused enough as it is. You've got to tell me what you know!""What about you?" he retorted, suspiciously.
"All right, I'll tell you and then you tell me. Don't worry, I shan't think you're mad.""Mad! Good God!" He tried to smile. "But you haven't understood a thing, not a single thing.
He never for one moment thought that he was mad. If he had he would never have done it. Hewould still be alive.""In other words, your report, this business of nervous troubles, is a fabrication.""Of course.""Why not write the truth?""Why?" he repeated.
A long silence followed. It was true that I was still completely in the dark. I had been under theimpression that I had overcome his doubts and that we were going to pool our resources tosolve the enigma49. Why, then, was he refusing to talk?
"Where are the robots?""In the store-rooms. We've locked them all away; only the reception robots are operational.""Why?"Once more, he refused to answer.
"You don't want to talk about it?""I can't."He seemed constantly on the point of unburdening himself, only to pull himself up at the lastmoment. Perhaps I would do better to tackle Sartorius. Then I remembered the letter and, as Ithought of it, realized how important it was.
"Do you intend continuing with the experiments?"He gave a contemptuous shrug29:
"What good would that do?""Oh—in that case, what do you suggest we do?"He was silent. In the distance, there was a faint noise of bare feet padding over the floor. Themuffled echo of these shuffling50 steps reverberated51 eerily52 among the nickel-plated andlaminated equipment and the tall shafts53, furrowed54 with glass tubes, which encased thecomplicated electronic installations.
Unable to control myself any longer, I stood up. As I listened to the approaching footsteps, Iwatched Snow. Behind the drooping55 lids, his eyes showed no fear. Was he not afraid of her,then?
"Where does she come from?" I asked.
"I don't know."The sound of the footsteps faded, then died away.
"Don't you believe me?" he said. "I swear to you that I don't know."In the silence that followed, I opened a locker, pushed the clumsy atmosphere suits aside andfound, as I expected, hanging at the back, the gas pistols used for manoeuvering in space. Itook one out, checked the charge, and slung56 the harness over my shoulder. It was not strictlyspeaking, a weapon, but it was better than nothing.
As I was adjusting a strap57, Snow showed his yellow teeth in a mocking grin.
"Good hunting!" he said.
I turned towards the door.
"Thanks."He dragged himself out of his chair.
"Kelvin!"I looked at him. He was no longer smiling. I have never seen such an expression of wearinesson anyone's face.
He mumbled:
"Kelvin, it isn't that…Really, I…I can't…"I waited; his lips moved, but uttered no sound. I turned on my heel and went out.
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收听单词发音
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1
locker
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| n.更衣箱，储物柜，冷藏室，上锁的人 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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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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apocrypha
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| n.伪经，伪书 | |
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purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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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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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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filaments
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| n.（电灯泡的）灯丝( filament的名词复数 )；丝极；细丝；丝状物 | |
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looming
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| n.上现蜃景（光通过低层大气发生异常折射形成的一种海市蜃楼）v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的现在分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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communal
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| adj.公有的，公共的，公社的，公社制的 | |
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silhouette
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| n.黑色半身侧面影，影子，轮廓；v.描绘成侧面影，照出影子来，仅仅显出轮廓 | |
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rhythmically
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| adv.有节奏地 | |
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anthropological
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| adj.人类学的 | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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whine
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| v.哀号，号哭；n.哀鸣 | |
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aluminum
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| n.(aluminium)铝 | |
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crates
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| n. 板条箱, 篓子, 旧汽车 vt. 装进纸条箱 | |
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dazedly
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| 头昏眼花地，眼花缭乱地，茫然地 | |
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famished
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| adj.饥饿的 | |
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flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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shutter
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| n.百叶窗；(照相机)快门；关闭装置 | |
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25
frayed
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| adj.磨损的v.（使布、绳等）磨损，磨破( fray的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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taut
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| adj.拉紧的，绷紧的，紧张的 | |
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utensils
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| 器具，用具，器皿( utensil的名词复数 )； 器物 | |
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28
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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30
whining
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| n. 抱怨，牢骚 v. 哭诉，发牢骚 | |
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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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activating
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| 活动的，活性的 | |
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blurted
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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faltering
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| 犹豫的，支吾的，蹒跚的 | |
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resuscitation
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| n.复活 | |
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mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lethal
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| adj.致死的；毁灭性的 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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fiddling
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| 微小的 | |
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barricaded
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| 设路障于，以障碍物阻塞( barricade的过去式和过去分词 )； 设路障[防御工事]保卫或固守 | |
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mirage
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| n.海市蜃楼，幻景 | |
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obstinately
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| ad.固执地，顽固地 | |
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43
grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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delirious
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| adj.不省人事的，神智昏迷的 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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46
reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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47
collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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48
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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49
enigma
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| n.谜，谜一样的人或事 | |
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50
shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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51
reverberated
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| 回响，回荡( reverberate的过去式和过去分词 )； 使反响，使回荡，使反射 | |
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52
eerily
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| adv.引起神秘感或害怕地 | |
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53
shafts
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| n.轴( shaft的名词复数 )；（箭、高尔夫球棒等的）杆；通风井；一阵（疼痛、害怕等） | |
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54
furrowed
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| v.犁田，开沟( furrow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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56
slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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57
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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