I was about to call her name, when I heard the tread of heavy footsteps coming towards me. Anumb calm descended6:
"Gibarian?""Yes, it's me. Don't switch the light on.""No?""There's no need, and it's better for us to stay in the dark.""But you are dead…""Don't let that worry you. You recognize my voice, don't you?""Yes. Why did you kill yourself?""I had no choice. You arrived four days late. If you had come earlier, I would not have beenforced to kill myself. Don't worry about it, though, I don't regret anything.""You really are there? I'm not asleep?""Oh, you think you're dreaming about me? As you did with Rheya?""Where is she?""How should I know?""I have a feeling that you do.""Keep your feelings for yourself. Let's say I'm deputizing for her.""I want her here too!""Not possible.""Why not? You know very well that it isn't the real you, just my…""No, I am the real Gibarian—just a new incarnation. But let's not waste time on uselesschatter.""You'll be leaving again?""Yes.""And then she'll come back?""Why should you care about that?""She belongs to me.""You are afraid of her.""No.""She disgusts you.""What do you want with me?""Save your pity for yourself—you have a right to it—but not for her. She will always be twentyyears old. You must know that."I felt suddenly at ease again, for no apparent reason, and ready to hear him out. He seemed tohave come closer, though I could not see him in the dark.
"What do you want?""Sartorius has convinced Snow that you have been deceiving him. Right now they are trying togive you the same treatment. Building the X-ray beamer is a cover for constructing a magneticfield disruptor.""Where is she?""Didn't you hear me? I came to warn you.""Where is she?""I don't know. Be careful. You must find some kind of weapon. You can't trust anyone.""I can trust Rheya."He stifled8 a laugh: "Of course, you can trust Rheya—to some extent. And you can alwaysfollow my example, if all else fails.""You are not Gibarian.""No? Then who am I? A dream?""No, you are only a puppet. But you don't realize that you are.""And how do you know what you are?"I tried to stand up, but could not stir. Although Gibarian was still speaking, I could notunderstand his words; there was only the drone of his voice. I struggled to regain9 control of mybody, felt a sudden wrench10 and…I woke up, and drew down great gulps12 of air. It was dark, andI had been having a nightmare. And now I heard a distant, monotonous13 voice: "…a dilemmathat we are not equipped to solve. We are the cause of our own sufferings. The Polytheresbehave strictly14 as a kind of amplifier of our own thoughts. Any attempt to understand themotivation of these occurrences is blocked by our own anthropomorphism. Where there are nomen, there cannot be motives15 accessible to men. Before we can proceed with our research,either our own thoughts or their materialized forms must be destroyed. It is not within ourpower to destroy our thoughts. As for destroying their material forms, that could be likecommitting murder."I had recognized Gibarian's voice at once. When I stretched out my arm, I found myself alone.
I had fallen asleep again. This was another dream. I called Gibarian's name, and the voicestopped in mid-sentence. There was the sound of a faint gasp16, then a gust7 of air.
"Well, Gibarian," I yawned, "You seem to be following me out of one dream and into thenext…"There was a rustling17 sound from somewhere close, and I called his name again. The bedspringscreaked, and a voice whispered in my ear:
"Kris…it's me…""Rheya? Is it you? What about Gibarian?""But…you said he was dead, Kris.""He can be alive in a dream," I told her dejectedly, although I was not completely sure that ithad been a dream. "He spoke18 to me…He was here…"My head sank back onto the pillow. Rheya said something, but I was already drifting intosleep.
In the red light of morning, the events of the previous night returned. I had dreamt that I wastalking to Gibarian, But afterwards, I could swear that I had heard his voice, although I had noclear recall of what he had said, and it had not been a conversation—more like a speech.
Rheya was splashing about in the bathroom. I looked under the bed, where I had hidden thetape-recorder a few days earlier. It was no longer there.
"Rheya!" She put her face round the door. "Did you see a tape-recorder under the bed, a littlepocket one?""There was a pile of stuff under the bed. I put it all over there." She pointed19 to a shelf by themedicine cabinet, and disappeared back into the bathroom.
There was no tape-recorder on the shelf, and when Rheya emerged from the bathroom I askedher to think again. She sat combing her hair, and did not answer. It was not until now that Inoticed how pale she was, and how closely she was watching me in the mirror. I returned to theattack:
"The tape-recorder is missing, Rheya.""Is that all you have to tell me?""I'm sorry. You're right, it's silly to get so worked up about a tape-recorder."Anything to avoid a quarrel.
Later, over breakfast, the change in Rheya's behavior was obvious, yet I could not define it.
She did not meet my eyes, and was frequently so lost in thought that she did not hear me.
Once, when she looked up, her cheeks were damp.
"Is anything the matter? You're crying.""Leave me alone," Rheya blurted20. "They aren't real tears."Perhaps I ought not to have let her answer so, but 'straight talking' was the last thing I wanted.
In any case, I had other problems on my mind; I had dreamt that Snow and Sartorius wereplotting against me, and although I was certain that it had been nothing more than a dream, Iwas wondering if there was anything on the Station that I might be able to use to defendmyself. My thinking had not progressed to the point of deciding what to do with a weapononce I had it. I told Rheya that I had to make an inspection21 of the store-rooms, and she trailedbehind me silently.
I ransacked22 packing-cases and capsules, and when we reached the lower deck I was unable toresist looking into the cold store. Not wanting Rheya to go in, I put my head inside the doorand looked around. The recumbent figure was still covered by its dark shroud23, but from myposition in the doorway24 I could not make out whether the black woman was still sleeping byGibarian's body. I had the impression that she was no longer there.
I wandered from one store-room to another, unable to locate anything that might serve as aweapon, and with a rising feeling of depression. All at once I noticed that Rheya was not withme. Then she reappeared; she had been hanging back in the corridor. In spite of the pain shesuffered when she could not see me, she had been trying to keep away. I should have beenastonished: instead, I went on acting25 as if I had been offended—but then, who had offendedme?—and sulking like a child.
My head was throbbing26, and I rifled the entire contents of the medicine cabinet without findingso much as an aspirin27. I did not want to go back to the sick bay. I did not want to do anything. Ihad never been in a blacker temper. Rheya tiptoed about the cabin like a shadow. Now andthen she went off somewhere. I don't know where, I was paying her no attention; then shewould creep back inside.
That afternoon, in the kitchen (we had just eaten, but in fact Rheya had not touched her food,and I had not attempted to persuade her), Rheya got up and came to sit next to me. I felt herhand on my sleeve, and grunted28: "What's the matter?"I had been meaning to go up to the deck above, as the pipes were carrying the sharp cracklingsound of high-voltage apparatus29 in use, but Rheya would have had to come with me. It hadbeen hard enough to justify30 her presence in the library; among the machinery31, there was achance that Snow might drop some clumsy remark. I gave up the idea of going to investigate.
"Kris," she whispered, "what's happening to us?"I gave an involuntary sigh of frustration32 with everything that had been happening since theprevious night: "Everything is fine. Why?""I want to talk.""All right, I'm listening.""Not like this.""What? You know I have a head-ache, and that's not the least of my worries…""You're not being fair."I forced myself to smile; it must have been a poor imitation: "Go ahead and talk, darling,please.""Will you tell me the truth?""Why should I lie?" This was an ominous33 beginning.
"You might have your reasons…it might be necessary…But if you want…Look, I am going totell you something, and then it will be your turn—only no half-truths. Promise!" I could notmeet her gaze. "I've already told you that I don't know how I came to be here. Perhaps you do.
Wait!—perhaps you don't. But if you do know, and you can't tell me now, will you tell me oneday, later on? I couldn't be any the worse for it, and you would at least be giving me a chance.""What are you talking about, child," I stammered34. "What chance?""Kris, whatever I may be, I'm certainly not a child. You promised me an answer."Whatever I may be…my throat tightened35, and I stared at Rheya shaking my head like animbecile, as if forbidding myself to hear any more.
"I'm not asking for explanations. You only need to tell me that, you are not allowed to say.""I'm not hiding anything," I croaked36.
"All right."She stood up. I wanted to say something. We could not leave it at that. But no words wouldcome. "Rheya…"She was standing37 at the window, with her back turned. The blue-black ocean stretched outunder a cloudless sky.
"Rheya, if you believe…You know very well I love you…""Me?"I went to put my arms round her, but she pulled away.
"You're too kind," she said. "You say you love me? I'd rather you beat me.""Rheya, darling!""No, no, don't say any more."She went back to the table and began to clear away the plates. I gazed out at the ocean. The sunwas setting, and the Station cast a lengthening38 shadow that danced on the waves. Rheyadropped a plate on the floor. Water splashed in the sink. A tarnished39 golden halo ringed thehorizon. If I only knew what to do…if only…Suddenly there was silence. Rheya was standingbehind me.
"No, don't turn round," she murmured. "It isn't your fault, I know. Don't torment40 yourself."I reached out, but she slipped away to the far side of the room and picked up a stack of plates:
"It's a shame they're unbreakable. I'd like to smash them, all of them."I thought for a moment that she really was going to dash them to the floor, but she lookedacross at me and smiled: "Don't worry, I'm not going to make scenes."In the middle of the night, I was suddenly wide awake. The room was in darkness and the doorwas ajar, with a faint light shining from the corridor. There was a shrill41 hissing42 noise,interspersed with heavy, muffled43 thudding, as if some heavy object was pounding against awall. A meteor had pierced the shell of the Station! No, not a meteor, a shuttle, for I could heara dreadful labored44 whining….
I shook myself. It was not a meteor, nor was it a shuttle. The sound was coming fromsomebody at the end of the corridor. I ran down to where light was pouring from the door ofthe little work-room, and rushed inside. A freezing vapor45 filled the room, my breath fell likesnow, and white flakes46 swirled47 over a body covered by a dressing-gown, stirring feebly thenstriking the floor again. I could hardly see through the freezing mist. I snatched her up andfolded her in my arms, and the dressing-gown burnt my skin.
Rheya kept on making the same harsh gasping48 sound as I stumbled along the corridor, nolonger feeling the cold, only her breath on my neck, burning like fire.
I lowered Rheya onto the operating table and pulled the dressing-gown open. Her face wascontorted with pain, the lips covered by a thick, black layer of frozen blood, the tongue a massof sparkling ice crystals.
Liquid oxygen…The Dewar bottles in the work-room contained liquid oxygen. Splinters ofglass had crunched49 underfoot as I carried Rheya out. How much of it had she swallowed? Itdidn't matter. Her trachea, throat and lungs must be burnt away—liquid oxygen corrodes50 fleshmore effectively than strong acids. Her breathing was more and more labored, with a dry soundlike tearing paper. Her eyes were closed. She was dying.
I looked across at the big, glass-fronted cabinets, crammed51 with instruments and drugs.
Tracheotomy? Intubation? She had no lungs! I stared at shelves full of colored bottles andcartons. She went on, gasping hoarsely52, and a wisp of vapor drifted out of her open mouth.
Thermophores…I started looking for them, then changed my mind, ran to another cupboard and turned outboxes of ampoules. Now a hypodermic—where are they?—here—needs sterilizing53. I fumbledwith the lid of the sterilizer54, but my numb5 fingers had lost all sensation and would not bend.
The harsh rattle55 grew louder, and Rheya's eyes were open when I reached the table. I openedmy mouth to say her name but my voice had gone and my lips would not obey me. My face didnot belong to me; it was a plaster mask.
Rheya's ribs56 were heaving under the white skin. The ice-crystals had melted and her wet hairwas entangled57 in the headrest. And she was looking at me.
"Rheya!" It was all I could say. I stood paralyzed, my hands dangling58 uselessly, until a burningsensation mounted from my legs and attacked my lips and eyelids59.
A drop of blood melted and slanted60 down her cheek. Her tongue quivered and receded61. Thelabored panting went on.
I could feel no pulse in her wrist, and put my ear against her frozen breast. Faintly, behind theraging blizzard62, her heart was beating so fast that I could not count the beats, and I remainedcrouched over her, with my eyes closed. Something brushed my head—Rheya's hand in myhair. I stood up.
"Kris!" A harsh gasp.
I took her hand, and the answering pressure made my bones creak. Then her face screwed upwith agony, and she lost consciousness again. Her eyes turned up, a guttural rattle tore at herthroat, and her body arched with convulsions. It was all I could do to keep her on the operatingtable; she broke free and her head cracked against a porcelain63 basin. I dragged her back, andstruggled to hold her down, but violent spasms64 kept jerking her out of my grasp. I was pouringwith sweat, and my legs were like jelly. When the convulsions abated65, I tried to make her lieflat, but her chest thrust out to gulp11 at the air. Suddenly her eyes were staring out at me frombehind the frightful66 blood-stained mask of her face. "Kris…how long…how long?" Shechoked. Pink foam67 appeared at her mouth, and the convulsions racked her again. With my lastreserves of strength I bore down on her shoulders, and she fell back. Her teeth chattered68 loudly.
"No, no, no," she whimpered suddenly, and I thought that death was near.
But the spasms resumed, and again I had to hold her down. Now and then she swallowed drily,and her ribs heaved. Then the eyelids half closed over the unseeing eyes, and she stiffened69.
This must be the end. I did not even try to wipe the foam from her mouth. A distant ringingthrobbed in my head. I was waiting for her final breath before my strength failed and Icollapsed to the ground.
She went on breathing, and the rasp was now only a light sigh. Her chest, which had stoppedheaving, moved again to the rapid rhythm of her heartbeat. Color was returning to her cheeks.
Still I did not realize what was happening. My hands were clammy, and I heard as if throughlayers of cotton wool, yet the ringing sound continued. Rheya's eyelids moved, and our eyesmet.
I could not speak her name from behind the mask of my face. All I could do was look at her.
She turned her head and looked round the room. Somewhere behind me, in another world, a tapdripped. Rheya levered herself up on her elbow. I recoiled70, and again our eyes met.
"It…it didn't work," she stammered. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Then shescreamed out loud: "Why are you looking at me like that?"Still I could say nothing. She examined her hands, moved her fingers…"Is this me?"My lips formed her name, and she repeated it as a question—"Rheya?"She let herself slide off the operating table, staggered, regained71 her balance and took a fewsteps. She was moving in a daze72, and looking at me without appearing to see me.
"Rheya? But…I am not Rheya. Who am I then? And you, what about you?" Her eyes widenedand sparkled, and an astonished smile lit up her face. "And you, Kris. Perhaps you too…"I had backed away until I came up against the wall. The smile vanished.
"No. You are afraid. I can't take any more of this, I can't…I didn't know, I still don'tunderstand. It's not possible." Her clenched73 fists struck her chest. "What else could I think,except that I was Rheya! Maybe you believe this is all an act? It isn't, I swear it isn't."Something snapped in my mind, and I went to put my arms round her, but she fought free:
"Don't touch me! Leave me alone! I disgust you, I know I do. Keep away! I'm not Rheya…"We screamed at each other and Rheya tried to keep me at arms' length. I would not let her go,and at last she let her head fall to my shoulder. We were on our knees, breathless andexhausted.
"Kris…what do I have to do to put a stop to this?""Be quiet!""You don't know!" She lifted her head and stared at me. "It can't be done, can it?""Please….""I really tried…No, go away. I disgust you—and myself, I disgust myself. If I only knewhow…""You would kill yourself.""Yes.""But I want you to stay alive. I want you here, more than anything.""You're lying.""Tell me what I have to do to convince you. You are here. You exist. I can't see any furtherthan that.""It can't possibly be true, because I am not Rheya.""Then who are you?"There was a long silence. Then she bowed her head and murmured:
"Rheya…But I know that I am not the woman you once loved.""Yes. But that was a long time ago. That past does not exist, but you do, here and now. Don'tyou see?"She shook her head:
"I know that it was kindness that made you behave as you did, but there is nothing to be done.
That first morning when I found myself waiting by your bed for you to wake up, I knewnothing. I can hardly believe it was only three days ago. I behaved like a lunatic. Everythingwas misty74. I didn't remember anything, wasn't surprised by anything. It was like recoveringfrom a drugged sleep, or a long illness. It even occurred to me that I might have been ill andyou didn't want to tell me. Then a few things happened to set me thinking—you know what Imean. So after you met that man in the library and you refused to tell me anything, I made upmy mind to listen to that tape. That was the only time I have lied to you, Kris. When you werelooking for the tape-recorder, I knew where it was. I'd hidden it. The man who recorded thetape—what was his name?""Gibarian.""Yes, Gibarian—he explained everything. Although I still don't understand. The only thingmissing was that I can't…that there is no end. He didn't mention that, or if he did it was afteryou woke up and I had to switch off. But I heard enough to realize that I am not a humanbeing, only an instrument.""What are you talking about?""That's what I am. To study your reactions—something of that sort. Each one of you has a…aninstrument like me. We emerge from your memory or your imagination, I can't say exactly—anyway you know better than I. He talks about such terrible things…so far fetched…if it didnot fit in with everything else I would certainly have refused to believe him.""The rest?""Oh, things like not needing sleep, and being compelled to go wherever you go. When I thinkthat only yesterday I was miserable75 because I thought you detested76 me. How stupid! But howcould I have imagined the truth? He—Gibarian—didn't hate that woman, the one who came tohim, but he refers to her in such a dreadful way. It wasn't until then that I realized that I washelpless whatever I did, and that I couldn't avoid torturing you. More than that though, aninstrument of torture is passive, like the stone that falls on somebody and kills them. But aninstrument of torture which loves you and wishes you nothing but good—it was too much forme. I wanted to tell you the little that I had understood. I told myself that it might be useful toyou. I even tried to make notes….""That time when you had the light switched on?""Yes. But I couldn't write anything. I searched myself for…you know, some sign of'influence'…I was going mad. I felt as if there was no body underneath77 my skin and there wassomething else instead: as if I was just an illusion meant to mislead you. You see?""I see.""When you can't sleep at night and your mind keeps spinning for hours on end, it can take youfar away; you find yourself moving in strange directions…""I know what you mean.""But I could feel my heart beating. And then I remembered that you had made an analysis ofmy blood. What did you find? You can tell me the truth now.""Your blood is like my own.""Truly?""I give you my word.""What does that indicate? I had been telling myself that the…unknown force might beconcealed somewhere inside me, and that it might not occupy very much space. But I did notknow whereabouts it was. I think now that I was evading78 the real issue because I didn't havethe nerve to make a decision. I was afraid, and I looked for a way out. But Kris, if my blood islike yours…if I really…no, it's impossible. I would already be dead, wouldn't I? That meansthere really is something different—but where? In the mind? Yet it seems to me that I think asany human being does…and I know nothing! If that alien thing was thinking in my head, Iwould know everything. And I would not love you. I would be pretending, and aware that Iwas pretending. Kris, you've got to tell me everything you know. Perhaps we could work out asolution between us.""What kind of solution?" She fell silent. "Is it death you want?""Yes, I think it is."Again silence. Rheya sat on the floor, her knees drawn79 up under her chin. I looked around atthe white-enamelled fittings and gleaming instruments, perhaps looking for some unsuspectedclue to suddenly materialize.
"Rheya, I have something to say, too." She waited quietly. "It is true that we are not exactlyalike. But there is nothing wrong with that. In any case, whatever else we might think about it,that…difference…saved your life."A painful smile flickered80 over her face: "Does that mean that I am…immortal?""I don't know. At any rate, you're far less vulnerable than I am.""It's horrible….""Perhaps not as horrible as you think.""But you don't envy me.""Rheya, I don't know what your fate will be. It cannot be predicted, any more than my own orany other member's of the Station's personnel. The experiment will go on, and anything canhappen…""Or nothing.""Or nothing. And I have to confess that nothing is what I would prefer. Not because I'mfrightened—though fear is undeniably an element of this business—but because there can't beany final outcome. I'm quite sure of that.""Outcome? You mean the ocean?""Yes, contact with the ocean. As I see it, the problem is basically very simple. Contact meansthe exchange of specific knowledge, ideas, or at least of findings, definite facts. But what if noexchange is possible? If an elephant is not a giant microbe, the ocean is not a giant brain.
Obviously there can be various approaches, and the consequence of one of them is that you arehere, now, with me. And I am trying my hardest to make you realize that I love you. Just yourbeing here cancels out the twelve years of my life that went into the study of Solaris, and Iwant to keep you.
"You may have been sent to torment me, or to make my life happier, or as an instrumentignorant of its function, used like a microscope with me on the slide. Possibly you are here as atoken of friendship, or a subtle punishment, or even as a joke. It could be all of those at once,or—which is more probable—something else completely. If you say that our future depends onthe ocean's intentions, I can't deny it. I can't tell the future any more than you can. I can't evenswear that I shall always love you. After what has happened already, we can expect anything.
Suppose tomorrow it turns me into a green jellyfish! It's out of our hands. But the decision wemake today is in our hands. Let's decide to stay together. What do you say?""Listen Kris, there's something else I must ask you…Am I…do I look very like her?""You did at first. Now I don't know.""I don't understand.""Now all I see is you.""You're sure?""Yes. If you really were her, I might not be able to love you.""Why?""Because of what I did.""Did you treat her badly?""Yes, when we…""Don't say any more.""Why not?""So that you won't forget that I am the one who is here not her."
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luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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underlying
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| adj.在下面的，含蓄的，潜在的 | |
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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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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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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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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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wrench
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| v.猛拧；挣脱；使扭伤；n.扳手；痛苦，难受 | |
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gulp
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| vt.吞咽，大口地吸（气）；vi.哽住；n.吞咽 | |
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gulps
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| n.一大口（尤指液体）( gulp的名词复数 )v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的第三人称单数 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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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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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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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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rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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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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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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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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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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ransacked
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| v.彻底搜查( ransack的过去式和过去分词 )；抢劫，掠夺 | |
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shroud
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| n.裹尸布，寿衣；罩，幕；vt.覆盖，隐藏 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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aspirin
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| n.阿司匹林 | |
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grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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apparatus
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| n.装置，器械；器具，设备 | |
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justify
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| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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frustration
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| n.挫折，失败，失效，落空 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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croaked
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的过去式和过去分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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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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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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tarnished
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| （通常指金属）（使）失去光泽，（使）变灰暗( tarnish的过去式和过去分词 )； 玷污，败坏 | |
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40
torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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44
labored
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| adj.吃力的，谨慎的v.努力争取(for)( labor的过去式和过去分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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vapor
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| n.蒸汽，雾气 | |
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flakes
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| 小薄片( flake的名词复数 )； （尤指）碎片； 雪花； 古怪的人 | |
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swirled
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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crunched
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| v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的过去式和过去分词 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
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corrodes
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| v.使腐蚀，侵蚀( corrode的第三人称单数 ) | |
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crammed
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| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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sterilizing
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| v.消毒( sterilize的现在分词 )；使无菌；使失去生育能力；使绝育 | |
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sterilizer
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| n.消毒者，消毒器 | |
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rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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58
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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slanted
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| 有偏见的； 倾斜的 | |
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receded
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的过去式和过去分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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blizzard
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| n.暴风雪 | |
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porcelain
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| n.瓷；adj.瓷的，瓷制的 | |
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spasms
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| n.痉挛( spasm的名词复数 )；抽搐；（能量、行为等的）突发；发作 | |
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abated
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| 减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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67
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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68
chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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daze
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| v.(使)茫然，(使)发昏 | |
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73
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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74
misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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75
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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evading
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| 逃避( evade的现在分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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79
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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