[新人报道][翻译]《探照灯（Searchlight）》
2006-11-19 16:01:32 来自: pine(爱恨岂无凭)
【写在前面】
大家好，我是新人，幻想在线的小彭同学，向大家问个好。
前段时间认识了牛姐。她给我了这一篇文章，并且严刑要求我快快完成。恩，现在翻译完了。打上来帖在这里，请各位大大狠狠批就是了。
翻译糊了的地方我打上了●，后面有时候还加一个小括弧来说明一下，谁让你英文这么烂捏？？这些翻“糊”的地方我自己也觉得很奇怪。我的水平实在很有限，里面的音乐知识和具体搜查的技术把我弄的晕晕的，很多地方也就只能这么凑合拉……唉
【正文】
探照灯 by 罗伯特·海因莱因
“她能收到么？”
“如果她正好在月球这边，如果她还能逃出那艘飞船，如果她太空服上的无线电装置还完好，而她又恰恰还把它开着....但愿她还活着，但迄今为止飞船那边没有任何信号，很可能，她和飞行员都没能生还。”
(注:此处参考了无机客大哥的建议,将suit radio 的翻译做了修改.)
“我们一定能找到她！ 发送信号，目标空间站。第谷基地，请确认收到。”
(注:此处参考了牛姐的建议,将tycho base的翻译做了修改.月球上本来就有第谷环形山,但是后面的farside等没有查到.)
信号从华盛顿到月球，延迟3秒左右：“月球基地，我是将军。●”（注:什么将军？有这么说话的吗？）
“将军，请派遣所有人员在月球搜救贝茨！”
几秒钟声音的延迟——光速的限制，让人觉得对方有些傲慢：“长官，您真了解月球有多大吗？”
“这个有关系吗？贝茨·巴纳就在上面。 所有人听好了，立即展开搜救，直到找到为止。如果她死了，你们的王牌飞行员恐怕也危险了！”
“先生，月球表面积有一千五百万平方英里。就算我紧急调用全部人马，每个人也要负责超过一千平方英里的范围。我给贝茨安排的是最优秀的飞行员，他即使不能回复讯息，我也不会听任何人对他的攻击，任何人！先生。我讨厌那些对月球情况一无所知的家伙对我指手画脚。 我的建议——我的正式建议是， 命令梅迪尔基地开始搜找，也许他们行。 ”
带点恼火的回复很快回来了：“不错啊，将军，一会儿再聊。梅迪尔站！报告你们的计划！”伊丽莎白·巴纳，“盲女贝茨”，从小就有很高的钢琴演奏天赋，正在参加美国劳动联合组织的月球活动。刚刚在第谷基地受到热烈欢迎，随后她将搭乘“月球火箭”前往“福赛得”军事基地，去和那些驻扎在月球背面孤单的导弹发射人员举行联欢活动。事实上，她早该在一个小时内到达了。给她配备的飞行员绝对一流，而且 ， 每天都有很多这样的飞船——而且是无人驾驶的——来往穿梭于第谷和福赛得基地间。
按预定计划离开了第谷基地，随后她所在的飞船就在雷达信号中消失了，不知所踪。
肯定飞船没有飞入太空，它的求救信号会被诸如飞船，太空站，月球地面站之类的接收到。它一定是坠毁了，或者紧急迫降了——在这广漠的月面上，在某个地方。
“梅迪尔太空站，我是指挥工程师。”华盛顿和这里的距离仅仅两万两千多英里，四分之一的延迟几乎无法察觉，“我们已经联系了地面站，改用我们的信号覆盖月球，另外一信号将覆盖离牛顿站较远的区域——靠近三体稳定结构上●（注:这个是个什么东西？），从第谷站起飞的飞船正沿着月球边缘的轨道飞行，可是那里对于我们和牛顿站都是雷达盲区，但愿我们能够……”
“啊，对，雷达搜索结果如何？”
“先生，这么说吧。一艘月球上的飞船，在雷达的扫描下，跟它周围没有什么两样。现在我们唯一方案就是设法与他们取得联系，希望行吧。超高频雷达一点一点寻找，要花上几个月的时间，但是装备的氧气只够他们维持六个小时。上帝保佑他们平安听到回话吧。”
“他们一回话，你是不是就向他们发送无线电测向仪？●”（注:感谢桃子!!）
“不会。”
“看在老天的份上，这是为什么？”
“先生，无线电测向仪除了告诉我们，信号来自月球以外，其他一点儿忙也帮不上。”
“博士。你是说你能收到她的回话，但却还是不知道她在哪儿？”
“我们彼此的情况都差不多，无法确定对方所在。但只要她能收到我发的讯息，就能告诉我方位。 ”
“你们会怎么做呢？”
“用激光，一束强烈的激光。她能听见它。”
“是听见一束激光吗？”
“对，先生。我们加紧安装了设备，它的工作原理类似雷达，但不显示什么。大家调整光的频率，把信息加载在频率上。信息是音频的，由一架钢琴来编写。只要她听见，我们就马上告诉她注意信号，同时调整音调，扫描月面。”●（注:这一句我也就这么处理了。）
“这个女孩已经这样了，而你们就只会做这些吗？”
“总统先生，请安静！”
“你是谁？”
“我就是贝茨的父亲，刚刚给他们紧急从奥马哈召来。请不要打断我们的工作，总统先生，我比谁都希望我的女儿能平安归来。”
总统很快回话了，●一字一句的：“好的，巴纳先生，就照您的意思办吧，一切由您调遣。”（注:tightly难道可以这么翻译么？）
梅迪尔太空站。 总指挥使劲抹了一把脸，问：“收到什么了吗？”
“还没，头儿，信号站那边没出什么问题吧？频率正好。”
“该给他们扔砖头，扔炸弹了！乔，通知总统。”
“明白，指挥。他们没有回话！”
“嘘——小声点。贝茨，听的见吗？”接线员紧张地大叫着，手上飞快地调整着设备。
接着扬声器里穿来了女孩轻柔甜美的声音：“终于听见有人叫我了，真开心。你们能不能快点来，梅杰受伤了。”
总指挥几步就跳到了话筒前：“是我，贝茨！我们正赶来救你呢！你要配合我们，知道现在你的方位吗？”
“我猜还在月球上吧。当时我们撞的真狠，飞船打滚时，我还想和他开个玩笑来着。后来我松开安全带，发现梅杰没动了。他肯定没死，我们的宇航服都鼓起来了，我用自己的头盔去撞他的头盔时还能听见一些什么声响来着。我正要去开门了”她接着说，“肯定不是福赛得那边，那边现在是晚上吧？可现在太阳真大，真热。”
“贝茨，你一定要呆在外面，让我们能看的见的地方！”
她咯咯地笑了：“真有意思，我用耳朵来看——”
“没错，你会用耳朵看见我们。我们会用一束激光扫描整个月球，你会听见一些钢琴音符。听见了，你就大声回答我们。马上开始，告诉我们你听的音符，能行吗？”
“小意思。”她的回话底气十足，“但愿音乐还合拍子。”
“就是了，一切就绪，开始——”
“现在是什么音符？贝茨？”
“降E调，头个八度要比C中调高。”
“是这个音？”
“就是我说的。”
总指挥大声问着：“现在确定是什么位置？在云海？快报告将军！”他对着话筒高声叫着，“就好了，宝贝儿贝茨，现在扫描你所在的区域。”
“我们正重新设置，不想和老爸聊上两句吗？”
“天，这可以吗？”
“当然没问题，宝贝儿。”
20分钟以后，他重新切回频率，那边传来她的声音：“当然没有拉，老爸。飞船刚刚翻的时候是有点吓人。但是大家一直都对我很好，一直都很好。”
“贝茨？”
“什么？”
“准备——一切照旧。”
“现在。”她说，“是个高音G调，降三个八度。”
“就是这个？”
“当然。”
“确定坐标，通知将军，请他准备发动飞船！现在那里给我们划分为以一平方英里的小范围了，●贝茨，已经知道你的大概方位了，我们正赶来。想进去凉快一下吧？”（注:实在太拗口，敷衍了一下。）
“我不热，也就出了一点汗而已。”
40分钟以后，传来了将军的答复：“飞船已经找到了！她正在那高兴地挥手呢！”
——完——11.14-11.16
【原文】
Searchlight
'Will she hear you?'
'If she's on this face of the Moon. If she was able to get out of the ship. If her suit radio wasn't damaged. If she has it turned on. If she is alive. Since the ship is silent and no radar beacon has been spotted, it is unlikely that she or the pilot lived through it.'
'She's got to be found! Stand by, Space Station. Tycho Base, acknowledge.'
Reply lagged about three seconds, Washington to Moon and back. 'Lunar Base, Commanding General.'
'General, put every man on the Moon out searching for Betsy!'
Speed-of-light lag made the answer sound grudging. 'Sir, do you know how big the Moon is?'
~No matter! Betsy Barnes is there somewhere - so every man is to search until she is found. If she's dead, your precious pilot would be better off dead, too!'
'Sir, the Moon is almost fifteen million square miles. If I used every man I have, each would have over a thousand square miles to search. I gave Betsy my best pilot. I won't listen to threats against him when he can't answer back. Not from anyone, sir! I'm sick of being told what to do by people who don't know Lunar conditions. My advice - my official advice sir is to let Meridian Station try. Maybe they can Work a miracle.'
The answer rapped back, 'Very well, General! I'll speak to you later. Meridian Station! Report your plans.' Elizabeth Barnes, 'Blind Betsy', child genius of the piano, had been making a USO tour of the Moon. She 'wowed 'em' at Tycho Base, then lifted by jeep rocket for Farside Hardbase, to entertain our lonely missilemen behind the Moon. She should have been there in an hour. Her pilot was a safety pilot; such ships shuttled unpiloted between Tycho and Farside daily.
After lift-off her ship departed from its programming, was lost by Tycho's radars. It was.. . somewhere.
Not in space, else it would be radioing for help and its radar beacon would be seen by other ships, space stations, surface bases. It had crashed - or made emergency landing - somewhere on the vastness of Luna.
'Meridian Space Station, Director speaking - ' Lag was unnoticeable; radio bounce between Washington and the station only 22,300 miles up was only a quarter second. 'We've patched Earthside stations to blanket the Moon with our call. Another broadcast blankets the far side from Station Newton at the three-body stable position. Ships from Tycho are orbiting the Moon's rim - that band around the edge which is in radio shadow from us and from the Newton. If we hear-'
'Yes, yes! How about radar search?'
'Sir, a rocket on the surface looks to radar like a million other features the same size. Our one chance is to get them to answer . . . if they can. Ultrahigh-resolution radar might spot them in months - but suits worn in those little rockets carry only six hours air. We are praying they will hear and answer.'
'When they answer, you'll slap a radio direction finder on them. Eh?'
'No, sir.'
'In God's name, why not?'
'Sir, a direction finder is useless for this job. It would tell us only that the signal came from the Moon - which doesn't help.'
'Doctor, you're saying that you might hear Betsy - and not know where she is?'
'We're as blind as she is. We hope that she will be able to lead us to her. . . if she hears us.'
'How?'
'With a Laser. An intense, very tight beam of light. She'll hear it-'
'Hear a beam of light?'
'Yes, sir. We are jury-rigging to scan like radar - that won't show anything. But we are modulating it to give a carrier wave in radio frequency, then modulating that into audio frequency-and controlling that by a piano. If she hears us, we'll tell her to listen while we scan the Moon and run the scale on the piano -,
'All this while a little girl is dying?'
'Mister President - shut up!'
'Who was THAT?'
'I'm Betsy's father. They've patched me from Omaha. Please, Mr President, keep quiet and let them work. I want my daughter back.'
The President answered tightly, 'Yes, Mr Barnes. Go ahead, Director. Order anything you need.'
In Station Meridian the director wiped his face. 'Getting anything?'
'No. Boss, can't something be done about that Rio station? It's sitting right on the frequency!'
'We'll drop a brick on them. Or a bomb. Joe, tell the President'
'I heard, Director. They'll be silenced!'
'Sh! Quiet! Betsy - do you hear me?' The operator looked intent, made an adjustment.
From a speaker came a girl's light, sweet voice: ' - to hear somebody! Gee, I'm glad! Better come quick - the Major is hurt.'
The Director jumped to the microphone. 'Yes, Betsy, we'll hurry. You've got to help us. Do you know where you are?'
'Somewhere on the Moon, I guess. We bumped hard and I was going to kid him about it when the ship fell over. I got unstrapped and found Major Peters and he isn't moving. Not dead - I don't think so; his suits puffs out like mine and I hear something when I push my helmet against him. I just now managed to get the door open.' She added, 'This can't be Farside; it's supposed to be night there. I'm in sunshine, I'm sure. This suit is pretty hot.'
'Betsy, you must stay outside. You've got to be where you can see us.'
She chuckled. 'That's a good one. I see with my ears.'
Yes. You'll see us, with your ears. Listen, Betsy. We're going to scan the Moon with a beam of light. You'll hear it as a piano note. We've got the Moon split into the eighty-eight piano notes. When you hear one, yell, "Now!" Then tell us what note you heard. Can you do that?'
'Of course,' she said confidently, 'if the piano is in tune.'
'It is. All right, we're starting -' 'Now!'
'What note, Betsy?'
'E flat, the first octave above middle C.' 'This note, Betsy?'
'That's what I said.'
The Director called out, 'Where's that on the grid? In Mare Nubium? Tell the General!' He said to the microphone, 'We're finding you, Betsy honey! Now we scan just that part you're on.
We change setup. Want to talk to your Daddy meanwhile?'
'Gosh! Could I?'
'Yes indeed!'
Twenty minutes later he cut' in and heard: '- of course not, Daddy. Oh, a teensy bit scared when the ship fell. But people take care of me, always have.'
'Betsy?'
'Yes, sir?'
'Be ready to tell us again.'
'Now!' She added, 'That's a bullfrog G, three octaves down.'
'This note?'
'That's right.'
'Get that on the grid and tell the General to get his ships up! That cuts it to a square ten miles on a side! Now, Betsy - we know almost where you are. We are going to focus still closer. Want to go inside and cool off?'
'I'm not too hot. Just sweaty.'
Forty minutes later the General's voice rang out: 'They've spotted the ship! They see her waving!'
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