Kilgore_Trout: переводы

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→"Ouzo," Sakretis said to the group as they climbed aboard the slidecar. "My great-grandpa told me about ouzo."

→A cheer went up and everyone’s pace quickened as they hurried to the catch the slidecar for the hangar deck.

→"Affirmative," he answered, hoping it wasn’t a mistake.

→Denys didn’t like the idea of interaction with the planet natives, there was too much at stake for the crew of the HATTON to risk contaminating their own history, but he also figured he might have a mutiny on his hands if he didn’t let the men have at least a quick meal. There was morale to consider, here.

→"Food." Cleary breathed reverently. "Hey, Duchamp, can we stop somewhere to eat Earthside?"

→Everyone in the crew perked up at the question.

→My great-grandparents left Greece in the 21st Century. I’m returning to the home of my people." He rubbed his stubbly jaw as Denys herded them to the door. "I wonder if there’s anywhere good to eat?"

→Sakretis jumped to his feet first. "We’re about to touch the Earth of our ancestors," he declared. Sakretis was the poetic sort. "Greece.

→Before he could answer, the ship’s comm sounded, "Second Shift to the hangar bay," the captain’s voice said. "The shipment is in, gentlemen. We can pick it up and blow orbit as soon as you lads get back."

→"You’re just hungry," Cleary sympathized.

→Denys gave his head a hard shake. "I’m definitely going stir crazy."

→That smile, and the touch of sultriness in her voice, had the impact of a nova bomb on Deny’s tired brain. His breath caught in his throat. It wasn’t just his tastebuds reacting, but his whole body warmed in the glow of her smile. Of her taped and frequently re-run smile, he forced himself to recall. The woman might have a strong personality, but it was canned, she was on a video that had probably been taped weeks ago, it wasn’t like he was ever going to experience that smile or voice in any live-action, interactive sort of way. Which was a pity, really.

→The cook smiled, it held a hint of mystery, a touch of wistfulness, and a lot of sardonic amusement. "Who knows?"

→"Someplace romantic?"

→"Oh, no. I’m going on a long, luxurious vacation."

→"It sounds like it’s worth every penny of your ten thousand dollar cooking prize," the interviewer’s voice commented cheerily. "And how are you going to spend your prize money? Start a three star restaurant in Bradden Falls?"

→Denys wiped the back of his hand across his watering mouth. He agreed with Cleary; he was in love.

→She was still stimulating senses when he focused his attention on her again, but this time it was his tastebuds that took notice.

→She was very attractive, Denys decided, in an average, brown-haired, blue- eyed, button-nosed sort of way. It was kind of interesting, how the pink sweater she wore clung to all the right proportion of curves. A very nice double handful of curves. He felt his body heating up as he stared at the woman on the flat view screen. How long has it been since I’ve seen a woman? he wondered, blinking rapidly to try to break the spell. Only a few weeks, he reminded himself. Get a grip, Duchamp. Set an example for your men, and all that.