贝尔SpeedTouch HomePlus 511(
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贝尔SpeedTouch HomePlus 511
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高级英语第一册课文
The Middle Eastern Bazaar The Middle Eastern bazaar takes you back hundreds --- even thousands --- of years. The one I am thinking of particularly is entered by a Gothic - arched gateway of aged brick and stone. You pass from the heat and glare of a big, open square into a cool, dark cavernwhich extends as far as the eye can see, losing itself in the shadowy distance. Little donkeys with harmoniously tinkling bells thread their way among the throngsof people entering and leaving the bazaar. The roadway is about twelve feet wide, but it is narrowed every few yards by little stalls where goods of every conceivable kind are sold. The din of the stall- crying their wares, of donkey-boys and porters clearing a way for themselves by shouting vigorously, and of would-be purchasers arguing and bargaining is continuous and makes you dizzy. Then as you penetrate deeper into the bazaar, the noise of the entrance fades away, and you come to the muted cloth-market. The earthen floor, beaten hard by countless feet, deadens the sound of footsteps, and the vaulted mud-brick walls and roof have hardly any sounds to echo. The shop-keepers speak in slow, measured tones, and the buyers, overwhelmed by the sepulchral atmosphere, follow suit . One of the peculiarities of the Eastern bazaar is that shopkeepers dealing in the same kind of goods do not scatter themselves over the bazaar, in order to avoid competition, but collect in the same area, so that purchasers can know where to find them, and so that they can form a closely knit guild against injustice or persecution . In the cloth-market, for instance, all the sellers of material for clothes, curtains, chair covers and so on line the roadway on both sides, each open-fronted shop having a trestle trestle table for display and shelves for storage. Bargaining is the order of the cay, and veiled women move at a leisurely pace from shop to shop, selecting, pricing and doing a little preliminary bargaining before they narrow down their choice and begin the really serious business of beating the price down. It is a point of honour with the customer not to let the shopkeeper guess what it is she really likes and wants until the last moment. If he does guess correctly, he will price the item high, and yield little in the bargaining. The seller, on the other hand, makes a point of protesting that the price he is charging is depriving him of all profit, and that he is sacrificing this because of his personal regard for the customer. Bargaining can go on the whole day, or even several days, with the customer coming and going at intervals . One of the most picturesque and impressive parts of the bazaar is the copper-smiths' market. As you approach it, a tinkling and banging and clashing begins to impinge on your ear. It grows louder and more distinct, until you round a corner and see a fairyland of dancing flashes, as the burnished copper catches the light of innumerable lamps and braziers . In each shop sit the apprentices C boys and youths, some of them incredibly young C hammering away at copper vessels of all shapes and sizes, while the shop-owner instructs, and sometimes takes a hand with a hammer himself. In the background, a tiny apprentice blows a bi-, charcoal fir e with a huge leather bellowsworked by a string attached to his big toe -- the red of the live coals glowing, bright and then dimming rhythmicallyto the strokes of the bellows. Here you can find beautiful pots and bowls engrave with delicate and intricate traditional designs, or the simple, everyday kitchenware used in this country, pleasing in form, but undecorated and strictly functional. Elsewhere there is the carpet-market, with its profusion of rich colours, varied textures and regional designs -- some bold and simple, others unbelievably detailed and yet harmonious. Then there is the spice-market, with its pung and the food-market, where you can buy everything you need for the most sumptuous dinner, or sit in a tiny restaurant with porters and apprentices and eat your humble bread and cheese. The dye-market, the pottery-market and the carpenters' market lie elsewhere in the maze of vaulted streets which honeycomb this bazaar. Every here and there, a doorway gives a glimpse of a sunlit courtyard, perhaps before a mosque or a caravanserai , where camels lie disdainfully chewing their hay, while the great bales of merchandise they have carried hundreds of miles across the desert lie beside them. Perhaps the most unforgettable thing in the bazaar, apart from its general atmosphere, is the place where they make linseed oil. It is a vast, sombre cavern of a room, some thirty feet high and sixty feet square, and so thick with the dust of centuries that the mudbrick walls and vaulted roof are only dimly visible. In this cavern are three massive stone wheels, each with a huge pole through its centre as an axle. The pole is attached at the one end to an upright post, around which it can revolve, and at the other to a blind-foldedcamel, which walks constantly in a circle, providing the motive power to turn the stone wheel. This revolves in a circular stone channel, into which an attendant feeds linseed. The stone wheel crushes it to a pulp, which is then pressed to extract the oil .The camels are the largest and finest I have ever seen, and in superb condition C muscular, massive and stately. The pressing of the linseed pulp to extract the oil is done by a vast ramshackle apparatus of beams and ropes and pulleys which towers to the vaulted ceiling and dwarfs the camels and their stone wheels. The machine is operated by one man, who shovels the linseed pulp into a stone vat, climbs up nimbly to a dizzy height to fasten ropes, and then throws his weight on to a great beam made out of a tree trunk to set the ropes and pulleys in motion. Ancient girders girders creak and groan , ropes tighten and then a trickle of oil oozes oozes down a stone runnel into a used petrol can. Quickly the trickle becomes a flood of glistening linseed oil as the beam sinks earthwards, taut and protesting, its creaks blending with the squeaking and rumbling of the grinding-wheels and the occasional grunts and sighs of the camels. (from Advanced Comprehension and Appreciation pieces, 1962 ) NOTES 1) This piece is taken from Advanced Comprehension and Appreciation Pieces, compiled for overseas students by L. A. Hill and D.J. May, published by Oxford University Press, Hong Kong, 1962. 2) Middle East: generally referring to the area from Afghanistan to Egypt, including the Arabian Peninsula, Cyprus, and Asiatic Turkey. 3) Gothic: a style of architecture originated in N. France in 11th century, characterized by pointed arches, ribbed vaulting, steep, high roofs, etc. 4) veiled women: Some Moslems use the veil---more appropriately, the purdah --- to seclude or hide their women from the eyes of strangers. 5) caravanserai (caravansary): in the Middle East, a kind of inn with a large central court, where bands of merchants or pilgrims, together with their camels or horses, stay for shelter and refreshment Hiroshima -- the &Liveliest‖City in Japan Jacques Danvoir DHiroshima! Everybody off!‖ That must be what the man in the Japanese stationmaster's uniform shouted, as the fastest train in the world slipped to a stop in Hiroshima Station. I did not understand what he was saying. First of all, because he was shouting in Japanese. And secondly, because I had a lump in my throat and a lot of sad thoughts on my mind that had little to do with anything a Nippon railways official might say. The very act of stepping on this soil, in breathing this air of Hiroshima, was for me a far greater adventure than any trip or any reportorial assignment I'd previously taken. Was I not at the scene of the crime? The Japanese crowd did not appear to have the same preoccupations that I had. From the sidewalk outside the station, things seemed much the same as in other Japanese cities. Little girls and elderly ladies in kimonos rubbed shoulders with teenagers and women in western dress. Serious looking men spoke to one another as if they were oblivious of the crowds about them, and bobbed up and down re-heatedly in little bows, as they exchanged the ritual formula of gratitude and respect: &Tomo aligato gozayimas.& Others were using little red telephones that hung on the facades of grocery stores and tobacco shops. &Hi! Hi!& said the cab driver, whose door popped open at the very sight of a traveler. &Hi&, or something that sounds very much like it, means &yes&. &Can you take me to City Hall?& He grinned at me in the rear-view mirror and repeated &Hi!& &Hi! ‘ We set off at top speed through the narrow streets of Hiroshima. The tall buildings of the martyred city flashed by as we lurched from side to side in response to the driver's sharp twists of the wheel. Just as I was beginning to find the ride long, the taxi screeched to a halt, and the driver got out and went over to a policeman to ask the way. As in Tokyo, taxi drivers in Hiroshima often know little of their city, but to avoid loss of face before foreigners, will not admit their ignorance, and will accept any destination without concern for how long it may take them to find it.At last this intermezzo came to an end, and I found myself in front of the gigantic City Hall. The usher bowed deeply and heaved a long, almost musical sigh, when I showed him the invitation which the mayor had sent me in response to my request for an interview. &That is not here, sir,& he said in English. &The mayor expects you tonight for dinner with other foreigners or, the restaurant boat. See? This is where it is.‖ He sketched a little map for me on the back of my invitation. Thanks to his map, I was able to find a taxi driver who could take me straight to the canal embankment , where a sort of barge with a roof like one on a Japanese house was moored . The Japanese build their traditional houses on boats when land becomes too expensive. The rather arresting spectacle of little old Japan adrift adrift amid beige concrete skyscrapers is the very symbol of the incessant struggle between the kimono and the miniskirt. At the door to the restaurant, a stunning, porcelain-faced woman in traditional costume asked me to remove my shoes. This done, I entered one of the low-ceilinged rooms of the little floating house, treading cautiously on the soft matting and experiencing a twingeof embarrassment at the prospect of meeting the mayor of Hiroshima in my socks. He was a tall, thin man, sad-eyed and serious. Quite unexpectedly, the strange emotion which had overwhelmed me at the station returned, and I was again crushed by the thought that I now stood on the site of the first atomic bombardment, where thousands upon thousands of people had been slainin one second, where thousands upon thousands of others had lingered on to die in slow agony . The introductions were made. Most of the guests were Japanese, and it was difficult for me to ask them just why we were gathered here. The few Americans and Germans seemed just as inhibitedas I was. &Gentlemen,& said the mayor, &I am happy to welcome you to Hiroshima.& Everyone bowed, including the Westerners. After three days in Japan, the spinal column becomes extraordinarily flexible. &Gentlemen, it is a very great honor to have you her e in Hiroshima.& There were fresh bows, and the faces grew more and more serious each time the name Hiroshima was repeated. &Hiroshima, as you know, is a city familiar to everyone,‖ continued the mayor. &Yes, yes, of course,‖ murmured the company, more and more agitated. &Seldom has a city gained such world renown, and I am proud and happy to welcome you to Hiroshima, a town known throughout the world for its--- oysters&. I was just about to make my little bow of assent, when the meaning of these last words sank in, jolting me out of my sad reverie . &Hiroshima C oysters? What about the bomb and the misery and humanity's most heinous crime?& While the mayor went on with his speech in praise of southern Japanese sea food, I cautiously backed away and headed toward the far side of the room, where a few men were talking among themselves and paying little attention to the mayor's speech. &You look puzzled,& said a small Japanese man with very large eye-glasses. &Well, I must confess that I did not expect a speech about oysters here. I thought that Hiroshima still felt the impact of the atomic impact .& &No one talks about it any more, and no one wants to, especially, the people who were born here or who lived through it. &Do you feel the same way, too?& &I was here, but I was not in the center of town. I tell you this because I am almost an old man. There are two different schools of thought in this city of oysters, one that would like to preserve traces of the bomb, and the other that would like to get rid of everything, even the monument that was erected at the point of impact. They would also like to demolish the atomic museum.& &Why would they want to do that?& &Because it hurts everybody, and because time marches on. That is why.& The small Japanese man smiled, his eyes nearly closed behind their thick lenses. &If you write about this city, do not forget to say that it is the gayest city in Japan, even it many of the town's people still bear hidden wounds, and burns.&Like any other, the hospital smelled of formaldehyde and ethere . Stretchers and wheelchairs lined the walls of endless corridors, and nurses walked by carrying Stretchers instruments, the very sight of which would send shivers down the spine of any healthy visitor. The so-called atomic section was located on the third floor. It consisted of 17 beds. &I am a fisherman by trade. I have been here a very long time, more than twenty years, &said an old man in Japanese pajamas. DWhat is wrong with you?‖ &Something inside. I was in Hiroshima when it happened. I saw the fire ball. But I had no burns on my face or body. I ran all over the city looking for missing friends and relatives. I thought somehow I had been spared. But later my hair began to fall out, and my belly turned to water. I felt sick, and ever since then they have been testing and treating me. & The doctor at my side explained and commented upon the old man's story, &We still hare a handful of patients here who are being kept alive by constant car e. The other s died as a result of their injuries, or else committed suicide . & &Why did they commit suicide?& &It is humiliating to survive in this city. If you bear any visible scars of atomic burns, your children will encounter prejudice on the par t of those who do not. No one will marry the daughter or the niece of an atomic bomb victim. People are afraid of genetic damage from the radiation.& The old fisherman gazed at me politely and with interest. Hanging over the patient was a big ball made of bits of brightly colored paper, folded into the shape of tiny birds. &What's that?& I asked. &Those are my lucky birds. Each day that I escape death, each day of suffering that helps to free me from earthly cares, I make a new little paper bird, and add it to the others. This way I look at them and congratulate myself of the good fortune that my illness has brought me. Because, thanks to it, I have the opportunity to improve my character.& Once again, outside in the open air, I tore into little pieces a small notebook with questions that I'd prepared in advance for inter views with the patients of the atomic ward. Among them was the question: Do you really think that Hiroshima is the liveliest city in Japan? I never asked it. But I could read the answer in every eye. (from an American radio program presented by Ed Kay)NOTES 1) Hiroshima: a seaport, capital of Hiroshima prefecture in southwest Japan. Population (. On Aug. 6, 1945, Hiroshima was the first city to be struck by an atomic bomb, dropped by the U. S, air force. Almost 130 000 people were killed, injured, or missing, and 90% of the city was leveled. Much of the city has been reconstructed, but a gutted section of the city has been set aside as a &Peace City& to illustrate the effect of an atomic bomb. Since 1955, an annual world conference against nuclear weapons has met in Hiroshima. 2) Nippon: (Japanese) Japan 3) Tomo aligato gozayimas: (Japanese) Thank you very much. 4) Hi: (Japanese) yes 5) kimono: (Japanese) a loose robe with wide sleeves and a broad sash traditionally worn as an outer garment by the Japanese 6) tatami: (Japanese) straw matting used as a floor covering in a Japanese home. It is a custom of the Japanese to remove their shoes once they go indoors, walking on the tatami matting in their socks.Speech on Hitler's Invasion of the U.S.S.R. Winston S .ChurchillWhen I awoke on the morning of Sunday, the 22nd, the news was brought to me of Hitler's invasion of Russia. This changed conviction into certainty. I had not the slightest doubt where our duty and our policy lay. Nor indeed what to say. There only remained the task of composing it. I asked that notice should immediately be given that I would broad-cast at 9 o' clock that night. Presently General Dill, who had hastened down from London, came into my bedroom with detailed news. The Germans had invaded Russia on an enormous front, had surprised a large portion of the Soviet Air Force grounded on the airfields, and seemed to be driving forward with great rapidity and violence. The Chief of the Imperial General Staff added, &I suppose they will be rounded up in hordes .& I spent the day composing my statement. There was not time to consult the War Cabinet, nor was it necessary. I knew that we all felt the same on this issue. Mr. Eden, Lord Beaverbrook, and Sir Stafford Cripps C he had left Moscow on the 10th C were also with me during the day. The following account of this Sunday at Chequers by my Private Secretary, Mr. Colville, who was on duty this weekend, may be of interest: &On Saturday, June 21, I went down to Chequers just before dinner. Mr. and Mrs. Winant, Mr. and Mrs. Eden, and Edward Bridges were staying. During dinner Mr. Churchill said that a German attack on Russia was now certain, and he thought that Hitler was counting on enlisting capitalist and Right Wing sympathies in this country and the U. S. A. Hitler was, however, wrong and we should go all out to help Russia. Winant said the same would be true of the U. S. A. After dinner, when I was walking on the croquetlawn with Mr. Churchill, he revertedto this theme, and I asked whether for him, the arch anti-Communist, this was not bowing down in the House of Rimmon. Mr. Churchill replied, &Not at all. I have only one purpose, the destruction of Hitler, and my life is much simplified thereby. It Hitler invaded Hell I would make at least a favourable reference to the Devil in the House of Commons. ' I was awoken at 4 a. m. the following morning by a telephone message from the F. O. to the effect that Germany had attacked Russia. The P. M. had always said that he was never to be woken up for anything but Invasion (of England). I therefore postponed telling him till 8 am. His only comment was, 'Tell the B.B.C. I will broadcast at 9 to C night. 'He began to prepare the speech at 11a. m., and except for luncheon（= lunch）, at which Sir Stafford Cripps, Lord Cranborne, and Lord Beaverbrook were present, he devoted the whole day to it… The speech was only ready at twenty minutes to nine.& In this broadcast I said: &The Nazi regime is indistinguishable from the worst features of Communism. It is devoid of all theme and principle except appetite and racial domination. It excels all forms of human wickedness in the efficiency of its cruelty and ferocious aggression. No one has been a more consistent consistent opponent of Communism than I have for the last twenty - five years. I will unsay no word that I have spoken about it. But all this fades away before the spectacle which is now unfolding. The past, with its crimes, its follies, and its tragedies, flashes away. I see the Russian soldiers standing on the threshold of their native land, guarding the fields which their fathers have tilled from time immemorial . I see them guarding their homes where mothers and wives pray - ah, yes, for there are times when all pray C for the safety of their loved ones, the return of the bread-winner, of their champion, of their protector. I see the ten thousand villages of Russia where the means of existence is wrungso hardly from the soil, but where there are still primordialhuman joys, where maidens laugh and children play. I see advancing upon all this in hideous onslaught the Nazi war machine, with its clanking , heel-clicking, dandified Prussian officers, its crafty expert agents fresh from the cowing and tying down of a dozen countries. I see also the dull, drilled, docile , brutish masses of the Hun soldiery plodding on like a swarmof crawling locusts. I see the German bombers and fighters in the sky, still smarting from many a British whipping, delighted to find what they believe is an easier and a safer prey. &Behind all this glare, behind all this storm, I see that small group of villainous men who plan, organise, and launch this cataract of horrors upon mankind... &I have to declare the decision of His Majesty's Government - and I feel sure it is a decision in which the great Dominions will in due concur C for we must speak out now at once, without a day's delay. I have tomake the declaration, but can you doubt what our policy will be? We have but one aim and one single, irrevocablepurpose. We are resolved to destroy Hitler and every vestige of the Nazi regime. From this nothing will turn us C nothing. W we will never negotiate with Hitler or any of his gang. We shall fight him by land, we shall fight him by sea, we shall fight him in the air, until, with God's help, we have rid the earth of his shadow and liberated its peoples from his yoke. Any man or state who fights on against Nazidom will have our aid. Any man or state who marches with Hitler is our foe... That is our policy and that is our declaration. It follows therefore that we shall give whatever help we can to Russia and the Russian people. We shall appeal to all our friends and allies in every part of the world to take the same course and pursue it, as we shall faithfully and steadfastly to the end.... &This is no class war, but a war in which the whole British Empire and Commonwealth of Nations is engaged, without distinction of race, creed, or party. It is not for me to speak of the action of the United States, but this I will say：if Hitler imagines that his attack on Soviet Russia will cause the slightest divergence of aims or slackening of effort in the great democracies who are resolved upon his doom, he is woefully mistaken. On the contrary, we shall be fortified and encouraged in our efforts to rescue mankind from his tyranny. We shall be strengthened and not weakened in determination and in resources. &This is no time to moralise on the follies of countries and Governments which have allowed themselves to be struck down one by one, when by united action they could have saved themselves and saved the world from this tyranny. But when I spoke a few minutes ago of Hitler's blood-lust and the hateful appetites which have impelled or lured him on his Russian adventure I said there was one deeper motive behind his outrage. He wishes to destroy the Russian power because he hopes that if he succeeds in this he will be able to bring back the main strength of his Army and Air Force from the East and hurl it upon this Island, which he knows he must conquer or suffer the penalty of his crimes. His invasion of Russia is no more than a penalty to an attempted invasion of the British Isles. He hopes, no doubt, that all this may be accomplished before the winter comes, and that he can overwhelm Great Britain before the Fleet and air-power of the United States may intervene. He hopes that he may once again repeat, upon a greater scale than ever before, that process of destroying his enemies one by one by which he has so long thrived and prospered, and that then the scene will be clear for the final act, without which all his conquests would be in vain C namely, the subjugationP of the Western Hemisphere to his will and to his system. &The Russian danger is therefore our danger, and the danger of the United States, just as the cause of any Russian fighting for his hearth ）and home is the cause of free men and free peoples in every quarter of the globe. Let us learn the lessons already taught by such cruel experience. Let us redouble our exertions, and strike with united strength while life and power remain. & (from an American radio program presented by Ed Kay)NOTES 1) Sir Winston Spencer Churchill (1874 - 1965): Prime Minister, First Lord of the Treasury, and Minister of Defense (1940 C 45), led Britain from near defeat to victory in World War II; Leader of the Opposition (1945 C51); Prime Minister and First Lord of the Treasury (Oct. 1951 C April 1955); retired 1955; his best known book, The Second World War. 2) General Dill: Sir John Green Dill (), British field marshal, Chief of the Imperial General Staff (1940 - 41), a member of the joint Anglo-American board of strategy (1941 - 44) 3) Eden: Robert Anthony Eden, Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs (40 C 45), for Dominion Affairs (1939 C 40), and for War (1940). From 1942 to 1945 he was leader of the House of Commons. He was Prime Minister from 1955 to 1957. 4) Lord Beaverbrook: In World War II, he was Minister of Aircraft Production (1940 - 41), of State (1941), andof Supply (1941 - 42), British representative (Feb. 1942) in America for the supervision of British supply agencies. 5) Sir Stafford Cripps: British Ambassador to Moscow (1940 - 42) 6) Chequers: a historic Tudor mansion in Buckinghamshire, 35 miles NW of L presented to the government by Lord and Lady Lee of Fareham 1917; the official country seat of the prime minister of Great Britain 7) Colville: Churchill's private secretary 8) Winant: John Gilbert Winant (1889 - 1947), American government o U. S. ambassador to Great Britain (1941 - 46) 9) Edward Bridges: Secretary of the Cabinet (1938-C 46) 10) to bow down in the House of Rimmon: outward conformity with conventional religion or custom, practised with mental reservation fo Rimmon, deity worshipped by Syrians of Damascus (Bible, II Kings, v. 18) 11) F. O.: Foreign Office 12) P. M.: Prime Minister 13) Lord Cranborne: 5th Marquis of Salisbury, Secretary of State for Dominion Affairs 14) Hun: term of contempt applied to German soldiers especially in World War I 15) Dominion: a self-governing member of the British Commonwealth of Nations 16) British Empire: The United Kingdom plus her colonies and protectorates 17) Commonwealth of Nations: The United Kingdom plus her former colonies but now independent nations and a member of the British Commonwealth of Nations Blackmail Arthur Hailey The chief house officer, Ogilvie, who had declared he would appear at the Croydons suite an hour after his cryptic telephone call actually took twice that time. As a result the nerves of both the Duke and Duchess were excessively frayed when the muted buzzer of the outer door eventually sounded. The Duchess went to the door herself. Earlier she had dispatched her maid on an invented errand and, cruelly, instructed the moon-faced male secretary C who was terrified of dogs C to exercise the Bedlington terriersn. . Her own tension was not lessened by the knowledge that both might return at any moment. A wave of cigar smoke accompanied Ogilvie in. When he had followed her to the living room, the Duchess looked pointedly at the half-burned cigar in the fat man‘s mouth. DMy husband and I find strong smoke offensive. Would you kindly put that out.& The house detective's piggy eyes surveyed her sardonically from his gross jowled face. His gaze moved on to sweep the spacious, well-appointed room, encompassingthe Duke who faced them uncertainly, his back to a window. &Pretty neat set-up you folks got.‖ Taking his time, Ogilvie removed the offending cigar, knocked off the ash and flipped the butt toward an ornamental fireplace on his right. He missed, and the butt fell upon the carpet where he ignored it. The Duchess's lips tightened. She said sharply, imagine you did not come here to discuss décor &. The obese body shook in an appreciative chuckle . &No, ma'am, can't say I did. I like nice things, though.& He lowered the level of his incongruous falsetto voice.& Like that car of yours. The one you keep here in the hotel. Jaguar, ain't it?& &Aah!& It was not a spoken word, but an emission of breath from the Duke of Croydon. His wife shot him a swift, warning glance. &In what conceivable way does our car concern you?‖ As if the question from the Duchess had been a signal, the house detective's manner changed. He inquired abruptly, &Who else is in this place?& It was the Duke who answered, &No one. We sent them out.&&There's things it pays to check.& Moving with surprising speed, the fat man walked around the suite, opening doors and inspecting the space behind them. Obviously he knew the room arrangement well. After reopening and closing the outer door, he returned, apparently satisfied, to the living room. The Duchess had seated herself in a straight-backed Ogilvie remained standing. &Now then,& he said. &You two was in the hit-'n-run .& She met his eyes directly.& What are you talking about?& &Don't play games, lady. This is for real.& He took out a fresh cigar and bit off the end, &You saw the papers. There's been plenty on radio, too.& Two high points of color appeared in the paleness of the Duchess of Croydon's cheeks. &What you are suggesting is the most disgusting, ridiculous...& &I told you C Cut it out!‖ The words spat forth with sudden savagery , all pretense of blandnessgone. Ignoring the Duke, Ogilvie waved the unlighted cigar under his adversary 's adversary 's nose. &You listen to me, your high-an'-mightiness. This city's burnin' mad C cops, mayor, everybody else. When they find who done that last night, who killed that kid an' its mother, then high-tailed it, they'll throw the book, and never mind who it hits, or whether they got fancy titles neither. Now I know what I know, and if I do what by rights I should, there'll be a squad of cops in here so fast you'll hardly see 'em. But I come to you first, in fairness, so's you could tell your side of it to me.& The piggy eyes blinked, then hardened. & 'f you want it the other way, just say so.& The Duchess of Croydon C three centuries and a half of inbred arrogancebehind her C did not yield easily. Springing to her feet, her face wrathful, gray-green eyes blazing, she faced the grossness of the house detective squarely. Her tone would have withered anyone who knew her well. DYou unspeakable blackguard ! How dare you!‖ Even the self-assurance of Ogilvie flickered for an instant. But it was the Duke of Croydon who interjected, &It's no go, old girl. I'm afraid. It was a good try.& Facing Ogilvie, he said, &What you accuse us of is true. I am to blame. I was driving the car and killed the little girl.& &That's more like it,& Ogilvie said. He lit the fresh cigar. &Now we're getting somewhere.& Wearily, in a gesture of surrender, the Duchess of Croydon sank back into her chair. Clasping her hands to conceal their trembling, she asked. &What is it you know?& &Well now, I'll spell it out.& The house detective took his time, leisurely putting a cloud of blue cigar smoke, his eyes sardonically on the Duchess as if challenging her objection. But beyond wrinkling her nose in distaste, she made no comment. Ogilvie pointed to the Duke. &Last night, early on, you went to Lindy's Place in Irish Bayou. You drove there in your fancy Jaguar, and you took a lady friend. Leastways, I guess you'd call her that if you're not too fussy.& As Ogilvie glanced, grinning, at the Duchess, the Duke said sharply, &Get on with it!& &Well& C the smug fat face swung back C &the way I hear it, you won a hundred at the tables, then lost it at the bar. You were into a second hundred C with a real swinging party C when your wife here got there in a taxi. & &How do you know all this?& &I'll tell you, Duke C I've been in this town and this hotel a long time. I got friends all over. I they do the same for me, like letting me know what gives, an‘ where. There ain't much, out of the way, which people who stay in this hotel do, I don't get to hear about. Most of ‘em never know I know, or know me. They think they got their little secret tucked away , and so they have C except like now.& The Duke said coldly, &I see.& &One thing I'd like to know. I got a curious nature, ma‘ am. How'd you figure where he was?& The Duchess said, &You know so much... I suppose it doesn't matter. My husband has a habit of making notes while he is telephoning. Afterward he often forgets to destroy them. ‖The house detective clucked his tongue reprovingly . &A little careless habit like that, Duke C look at the mess it gets you in. Well, here's what I figure about the rest. You an' your wife took off home, you drivin', though the way things turned out it might have been better if she'd have drove.& &My wife doesn't drive.& Ogilvie nodded understandingly. &Explains that one. Anyway, I reckon you were lickered ( = liquored ) up, but good...& The Duchess interrupted. &Then you don't know! You don't know anything for sure! You can't possibly prove...& &Lady, I can prove all I need to.& The Duke cautioned, &Better let him finish, old girl.& &That's right,& Ogilvie said. &Just sit an' listen. Last night I seen you come in C through the basement, so's not to use the lobby. Looked right shaken, too, the pair of you. Just come in myself, an' I got to wondering why. Like I said, I got a curious nature.& The Duchess breathed, &Go on.& &Late last night the word was out about the hit-'n-run. On a hunch I went over the garage and took a quiet look-see at your car. You maybe don't know C it's away in a corner, behind a pillar where the jockeys don't see it when they're comin' by.& The Duke licked his lips. &I suppose that doesn't matter now.& &You might have something there,& Ogilvie conceded . &Anyway, what I found made me do some scouting -- across at police headquarters where they know me too.& He paused to puff again at the cigar as his listeners waited silently. When the cigar tip was glowing he inspected it, then continued. &Over there they got three things to go on. They got a headlight trim ring which musta come off when the kid an‘ the woman was hit. They got some headlight glass, and lookin‘ at the kid's clothin', they reckon there'll be a brush trace. & &A what?& &You rub clothes against something hard, Duchess, specially if it's shiny like a car fender, say, an' it leaves a mark the same way as finger prints. The police lab kin pick it up like they do prints C dust it, an‘ it shows.& &That's interesting,& the Duke said, as if speaking of something unconnected with himself. &I didn't know that.& &Not many do. In this case, though, I reckon it don't make a lot o' difference. On your car you got a busted headlight, and the trim ring's gone. Ain't any doubt they'd match up, even without the brush trace an‘ the blood. 0h yeah, I should a told you. There's plenty of blood, though it don't show too much on the black paint.& &Oh, my God!& A hand to her face, the Duchess turned away. Her husband asked, &What do you propose to do?& The fat man rubbed his hands together, looking down at his thick, fleshy fingers. &Like I said, I come to hear you, side of it.& The Duke said despairingly , &what can I possibly say? You know what happened.& He made an attempt to square his shoulders which did not succeed. &You'd better call the police and get it over.& &Well now, there's no call for being hasty .& The incongruous falsetto voice took on a musing note. &What's done's been done. Rushing any place ain't gonna bring back the kid nor its mother neither. Besides, what they'd do to you across at the headquarters, Duke, you wouldn't like. No sir, you wouldn't like it at all. & The other two slowly raised their eyes. &I was hoping,& Ogilvie said, &that you folks could suggest something.& The Duke said uncertainly, &I don't understand.& &I understand,& the Duchess of Croydon said. &You want money, don't you? You came here to blackmail us.& If she expected her words to shock, they did not succeed. The house detective shrugged. &Whatever names you call things, ma'am, don't matter to me. All I come for was to help you people out of trouble. But I got to live too.‖&You'd accept money to keep silent about what you know?& &I reckon I might.& &But from what you say,& the Duchess pointed out, her poise for the moment recovered, &it would do no good. The car would be discovered in any case.& &I guess you'd have to take that chance. But there's some reasons it might not be. Something I ain't told you yet.& &Tell us now, please.& Ogilvie said, &I ain't figured this out myself completely. But when you hit that kid you was going away from town, not to it.& &We'd made a mistake in the route,& the Duchess said. &Somehow we'd become turned around. It's easily done in New Orleans, with the street winding as they do. Afterward, using side streets, we went back. ‖ &I thought it might be that,& Ogilvie nodded understandingly. &But the police ain't figured it that way. They‘re looking for somebody who was headed out. That's why, right now, they're workin' on the suburbs and the outside towns. They may get around to searchin' downtown, but it won't be yet. & &How long before they do?& &Maybe three, four days. They got a lot of other places to look first.& &How could that help us --- the delay??& &It might,& Ogilvie said. &Providin' nobody twigs the car C an' seein' where it is, you might be lucky there. An' if you can get it away.& &You mean out of the state?&” &I mean out o’ the South.& &That wouldn't be easy?& &No, ma'am. Every state around C Texas, Arkansas, Mississippi, Alabama, all the rest'll be watching for a car damaged the way yours is.& The Duchess considered. &Is there any possibility of having repairs made first? If the work were done discreetly we could pay well. & The house detective shook his head emphatically. &You try that, you might as well walk over to headquarters right now an' give up. Every repair shop in Louisiana's been told to holler 'cops' the minute a car needing fixin' like yours comes in. They'd do it, too. You people are hot.& The Duchess of Croydon kept firm, tight rein on her racing mind. It was essential, she knew, that her thinking remain calm and reasoned. In the last few minutes the conversation had become as seemingly casual as if the discussion were of some minor domestic matter and not survival itself. She intended to keep it that way. Once more, she was aware, the role of leadership had fallen to her, her husband now a tense but passive spectator of the exchange between the evil tat man and herself. No matter. What was inevitable must be accepted. The important thing was to consider all eventualities. A thought occurred to her. &The piece from our car which you say the police have. What is it called?& &A trim ring.& &Is it traceable?& Ogilvie nodded affirmatively. &They can figure what kind o' car it's from --- make, model, an' maybe the year, or close to it. Same thing with the glass. But with your car being foreign, it'll likely take a few days.& &But after that,& she persisted, &the police will know they're looking for a Jaguar?& &I reckon that 's so. & Today was Tuesday. From all that this man said, they had until Friday or Saturday at best. With calculated coolness the Duchess reasoned: the situation came down to one essential. Assuming the hotel man was bought off, their only chance -- a slim one -- lay in removing the car quickly, If it could be got north, to one of the big cities where the New Orleans tragedy and search would be unknown, repairs could be made quietly, the incriminating evidence removed. Then, even if suspicion settled on the Croydons later, nothingcould be proved. But how to get the car away? Undoubtedly what this oafish detective said was true: As well as Louisiana, the other states through which the car would have to pass would be alert and watchful. Every highway patrol would be on the lookout for a damaged head-light with a missing trim ring. There would probably be road-blocks. It would be hard not to fall victim to some sharpeyed policeman. But it might be done. If the car could be driven at night and concealed by day. There were plenty of places to pull off the highway and be unobserved. It would be hazardous, but no more than waiting here for certain detection. There would be back roads. They could choose an unlikely route to avoid attention. But there would be other complications ... and now was the time to consider them. Traveling by secondary roads would be difficult unless knowing the terrain. The Croydons did not. Nor was either of them adept at using maps. And when they stopped for petrol, as they would have to, their speech and manner would betray them, making them conspicuous . And yet ... these were risks which had to be taken. Or had they? The Duchess faced Ogilvie. &How much do you want?& The abruptness took him by surprise. &Well ... I figure you people are pretty well fixed.& She said coldly, &I asked how much.& The piggy eyes blinked. Ten thousand dollars.& Though it was twice what she had expected, her expression did not change. &Assuming we paid this grotesque amount, what would we receive in return?& The fat man seemed puzzled. &Like I said, I keep quiet about what I know.& &And the alternative ?& He shrugged. &I go down the lobby. I pick up a phone. & &No,& The statement was unequivocal . &We will not pay, you.& As the Duke of Croydon shifted uneasily, the house detective's bulbous countenance reddened, &Now listen, lady Peremptorily she cut him oft. &I will not listen. Instead, you will listen to me.& Her eyes were riveted on his face, her handsome, high cheek boned features set in their most imperious mold. &We would achieve nothing by paying you, except possibly a few days' respite . You have made that abundantly clear.& &That's a chance you gotta...& &Silence!& Her voice was a whiplash. Eyes bored into him. Swallowing, sullenly , he complied . What came next, the Duchess of Croydon knew, could be the most significant thing she had ever done. There must be no mistake, no vacillation or dallying because of her own smallness of mind. When you were playing for the highest stakes, you made the highest bid. She intended to gamble on the fat man's greed. She must do so in such a way as to place the outcome beyond any doubt. She declared decisively, &We will not pay you ten thousand dollars. But we will pay you twenty-five thousand dollars. & The house detective's eyes bulged. &In return for that,& she continued evenly, &You will drive our car north.‖ Ogilvie continued to stare. &Twenty-five thousand dollars,& she repeated. “Ten thousand now. Fifteen thousand more when you meet us in Chicago. & Still without speaking, the fat man licked his lips. His beadyeyes, as if unbelieving, were focused upon her own. The silence hung. Then, as she watched intently, he gave the slightest of nods. The silence remained. At length Ogilvie spoke. &This cigar bother in' you, Duchess?& As she nodded, he put it out. (from Hotel, 1965)NOTES1) Arthur Hailey: Born in Luton, England, in 1920, Arthur Hailey was educated in English schools until fourteen. In 1947 Mr. Hailey emigrated to Canada and became a Canadian citizen. Hailey's best sellers include: Hotel, Airport, Wheels, The Final Diagnosis and The Moneychangers. 2) chief house officer: chief detective (employed by the hotel) in charge of hotel security 3) Bedlington terrier: a blue or liver-colored, woolly-coated terrier resembling a small lamb 4) Ogilvie: The author depicts him as a coarse, vulgar and uneducated person. Hence his language is ungrammatical and slangy, e. g. 'There's things it pays to check' for ' there' re things ...' 'You two was... ' for ‘ 'You two were... ' 'They find who done ...' for 'When they find who did... ' etc. His pronunciation is also non-standard, e. g. 'set' for 'sit' 'musta' for 'must have' 'kin' for 'can' 'shoulda' for 'should have' 'outa' for 'out of' 'gotta' for 'got to', etc. 5) Jaguar: trademark of a British motorcar 6) tables: gambling tables 7) what gives: U. S. colloquialism meaning 'what happens' The Age of Miracle Chips New microtechnology will transform society It is tiny, only about a quarter of an inch square, and quite flat. Under a microscope, it resembles a stylized Navaho rug or the aerial view of a railroad switching yard. Like the grains of sand on a beach, it is made mostly of silicon , next to oxygen the most abundant element on the surface of the earth. Yet this inert fleck C still unfamiliar to the vast majority of Americans C has astonishing powers that are already transforming society. For the so-called miracle chip has a calculating capability equal to that of a room-size computer of only 25 year s ago. Unlike the hulkingCalibans of vacuum tubes and tangled wires from which it evolved , it is cheap, easy to mass produce, fast, infinitely versatile and convenient. The miracle chip represents a development in the technology of mankind that over the past few years has acquired the force and significance associated with the development of hand tools or the discovery of the steam engine. Just as the Industrial Revolution took over an immense range of tasks from men's muscles and enormously expanded productivity, so the microcomputer is rapidly assuming huge burdens of drudgery from the human brain and thereby expanding the mind‘ s capacities in ways that man has only begun to grasp. With the chip, amazing feats of memory and execution become possible in everything from automobile engines to universities and hospitals, from farms to banks and corporate offices, from outer space to a baby's nursery. Living: Pushbutton Power It is 7: 30 a. m. As the alarm clock burrs , the bedroom curtains swing silently apart, the Venetian blinds snap up and the thermostat boosts the heat to a cozy 70° The percolator in the kit the . back door opens to let out the dog. The TV set blinks on with the day's first newscast: a selective rundown (ordered up the night before) of all the latest worldwide events affecting the economy C legislative, political, monetary. After the news on TV comes the morning mail, from correspondents who have dictated their messages into the computer network. The latter-day Aladdin, still snugly abed, then presses a button on a bedside box and issues a string of business and personal memos, which appear instantly on the genie screen. After his shower, which has turned itself on at exactly the right temperature at the right minute, Mr. A. is alerted by a buzzer and a blue light on the screen. His boss, the company president, is on his way to theoffice. A. dresses and saunters out to the car. The engine, of course, is running... After her husband has kissed her goodbye, Alice A. concentrates on the screen for a read-out of comparative prices at the local merchants' and markets. Following eyeball-to-eyeball consultations with the butcher and the baker and the grocer on the tube, she hits a button to commandeer supplies for tonight's dinner party. Pressing a couple of keys on the kitchen terminal, she order s from the memory bank her favorite recipes , tells the machine to compute the ingredientsfor six servings, and directs the ovens to reach the correct temperature for each dish according to the recipe, starting at 7: 15 p. m. Alice then joins a televised discussion of Byzantine art (which she has studied by computer). Later she wanders into the computer room where Al (&Laddy&) Jr. has just learned from his headset that his drill in Latin verb conjugation was & groovy &. Wellsian fantasy? Maybe. But while this matutinal scenario may still be years away, the basic technology is in xistence. Such painless, productive awakenings will in time be a familiar thing. And, barring headaches, tummyaches and heartaches, the American day should proceed as smoothly as it begins. All thanks to the miracle of the microcomputer, the super cheap chip that can electronically shoulder a vast array of boring, time-consuming tasks. The microelectronic revolution promises to ease, enhance and simplify life in ways undreamed of even by the utopians. At home or office, routine chores will be performed with astonishing efficiency and speed. Leisure time, greatly increased, will be greatly enriched. Public education, so often a dreary and capriciousprocess in the U. S., may be invested with the inspiriting quality of an Oxford tutorial C from preschool on. Medical care will be delivered with greater precision. Letters will not so easily go astray . It will be safer to walk the streets because people will not need to carry l virtually all financial transactions will be conducted by computer. In the microelectronic village, the home will again be the center of society, as it was before the Industrial Revolution. Mass production of the miracle chip has already made possible home computer systems that sell for less than $800 C and prices will continue to fall. Many domestic de-vices that use electric power will be computerized. Eventually, the household computer will be as much a part of the home it will program washing machines, burglar and fire alarms, sewing machines, a robot vacuum cleaner and a machine that will rinseand stack dirty dishes. When something goes wrong with an appliance a question to the computer will elicit repair instructions C in future generations, repairs will be made automatically. Energy costs will be cut by a computerized device that will direct heat to living areas where it is needed, and turn it
the device's ubiquitouseye, sensing where people are at all times, will similarly turn the lights on and off as need-ed. Paper clutter will disappear as home information management systems take over from memo pads, notebooks, files, bills and the kitchen bulletin board. While it may be a number of year s before the average housewife can do her shopping by computer TV, the basic instrumentation is already in place in an ever-growing number of supermarkets. The computer might appear to be a dehumanizing factor, but the opposite is in fact true. It is already leading the consumer society away from the mass-produced homogeneity of the assembly line. The chip will make it possible some day to have shoes and clothes made to order C the production commanded and directed by computer C within minutes. The custom-made object, now restricted to the rich, will be within everyone's reach. In no area of American life is personal service so precious as in medical care. Here, too, the computer has be-come the patient tends to give a more candid account of his symptoms, and medical history to a machine programmed to ask the proper preliminary questions than to a harassed（v. 使筋疲力尽） regimen and possibly intimidatingdoctor. At a few hospitals, computers are programmed not only to remind the pharmacy department to prepare prescriptions but also to alert nurses to give the proper dosage at the right time. Next to health, heart and home, happiness for mobile Americans depends upon the automobile. Computer technology may make the car, as we know it, a Smithsonian antique. In addition to themicroprocessors under the hood that will help the auto operate more efficiently, tiny computers will ease tensions and make life simpler for the drive and passengers too. Ford Motor Co. now offers buyers of its Continental Mark Vs an option called &miles to empty&. At the push of a button, the driver can get a read-out on the amount of fuel in the tank, and the number of miles he can expect to go (at current speed) before a refill is necessary. Driver s of General Motors 1978 Cadillac Seville will also be able to punch a button and find out the miles yet to go to a preset destination and the estimated arrival time. The ultimate auto will accommodate a pencil-sized portable phone capable of reaching any number in the world in seconds, automatic braking that will take over from a panicked driver, and a miniradar to avert collisions. The widest benefits of the electronic revolution (unlike those of most revolutions) will accrue to the young. Seymour Papert, professor of mathematics and education at M. I. T., estimates that there will be 5 million private computers in people's homes and available to stude by 1982, he predicts, 80% upper middle class families will have computers &capable of playing important roles in the intellectual development of their children.‖ Says California Author Robert Albrecht, a pioneer of electronic education: &In schools, computers will be more common than slide projectors, movie film projectors and tape recorders. They'll be used from the moment school opens, through recess, through lunch period, and on as far into the day as the principal will keep the school open.& Across the country, &these magical beasts&, as they have been called, are assisting hassled, often incompetentteachers. They are revivifying soporificstudents, dangling and delivering intellectual challenges beyond the ken of most educators. For the mighty army of consumers, the ultimate applications of the computer revolution are still around the bend of a silicon circuit. It is estimated that there are at least 25, 000 applications of the computer awaiting discovery. Notes The Economist: &To ask what the applications are is like asking what are the applications of electricity.& Certainly the miracle chip will affect American life in ways both benign and productive. The computer revolution is stimulating intellects, liberating limbs and propellingvmankind to a higher order of existence. (from time, February 20,1978)NOTES 1) chip: an integrated circuit on a very small thin piece of silicon 2) microtechnology: technology handling exceptionally small things 3) Navaho rug: rugs of intricate geometric designs woven by the Navaho (Indian) tribe in the U.S. 4) Caliban: a huge, uncouth, deformed creature, the slave of Prospero, in Shakespeare’ s The Tempest. The old computers were big, ugly things like Caliban. 5) memory: the capacity of a computer to store information 6) execution: the ability of a computer to carry out programmed instructions 7) pushbutton power: the things that can be done by just pushing a button 8) Aladdin: a boy in The Arabian Nights, son of a poor widow, who found a magic lamp and a magic ring. With the help of the genie of the lamp and ring he became very rich and married the daughter of the Caliph. 9) genie screen: a screen that seems to have magic powers like the genic (or jinni) in Moslem legends 10) eyeball-to-eyeball: seeing and talking directly to someone An Interactive Life It will put the world at your fingertips, changing the ways you shop, play and learn. But when will the future arrive? Barbara Kantrowitz with Joshua Cooper Ramo To get an idea of what the future might bring, step into the past. At the Edison National Historical Site in West Orange, N. J., there's a room full of a dozen old phonograph machines. Some were built by ThomasEdison, who invented recorded sound in 1877, and others were produced by competitors. In the decades represented by the display, the concept and purpose of sound recording changed dramatically. Edison conceived of his phonograph as a business machine that would help people in distant places communicate. He intended to record voices C nothing more. His competitors envisionedthe greater potential for entertainment and art. Where he saw internal memos, someone else saw Beethoven. Someday, there may well be a similar memorial to the unfulfilled prophecies of the creators of the latest breakthrough -- interactivity. Will it really change the world? With so much big money and so many big dreams pinned to an idea that is still largely on the drawing boards, there's no limit to the hype . Simply put, the ultimate promise is this: a huge amount of information available to anyone at the touch of a button, everything from airline schedules to esoteric scientific journals to video versions at oft-oft-off Broadway. Watching a movie won't be a passive experience. At various points, you'll click on alternative story lines and create your individualized version of &Terminator X II.& Consumers will send as well as receive all kinds of data. Say you shoot a video that you think is particularly artsy. Beam it out and make a small fortune by charging an untold number of viewers a tee for watching. Peter Jennings would be obsolete . Video-camera owners could record news they see and put it on the universal network. On the receiving end, the era of the no-brainer will have finally arrived. An electronic device called an &intelligent agent& would be programmed to know each viewer's preferences and make selections from the endless stream of data. Viewers could select whatever they wanted just by pushing a button. Sounds great in theory, but even the truest believers have a hard time when it comes to nailing down specifics about how it will actually work. Will we control the data via the telephone, the TV, the personal computer or a combination of all of the above? When will it be available? Will it be cheap enough for everyone? How will we negotiate such a mass of images, facts and figures and still find time to sleep? Will government regulate messages sent out on this vast data highway? And, frankly, what do we need all this stuff for anyway? The quick answer is: no one knows. &We're a long way from &Wild Palms',& says Diana Hawkins, who runs an interactive-TV consulting firm in Portola Valley, Calif. But even if the techno-chaos of that futuristic fantasy mini-series is far off, some consumers may indeed notice that their personal relationships with their TVs, telephones and computers will be entering a new and deeper phase within a year or two. Instead of playing rented tapes on their VCRs , they may be able to call up a movie from a library of thousands through a menu displayed on the TV. Game fanatics may be able to do the same from another electronic library filled with realistic video versions of arcade shoot-'em-ups. In-stead of flipping through the pages of J. Crew of Victoria's Secret, at-home shoppers may watch video catalogs with models demonstrating front and rear views of the latest gear. Some cable companies are also testing other interactive models that allow viewers to choose their own news or select camera angles for sporting events. While these developments are clever, fun and even convenient, they're not quite revolutionary. Denise Caruso, editor of Digital Media, a San Francisco-based industry newsletter, calls this & fakeinteractive,& just one step past passive viewing, pure couch-potato mode. In the most common version of this scheme, consumers will communicate with the TV through the combination of a control box and their remote control, or, perhaps, the telephone. To some degree, viewers already have accepted a certain amount of fake interactivity by channel surfing with their remotes, ordering pay-for-view movies and running up their credit-card bills on the Home Shopping Network. Moving beyond phase one, into what Caruso calls &true interactive,& will require major changes in the technological and regulatory infrastructure . Today's television cables will likely be replaced by fiber-optic cables, which are capable of transmitting much more data at higher speeds. Either a government agency or the communications industry itself will have to set a performance standard so that different networks can connect with each other. At home, viewers may have to learn to use a TV monitor that functions more like a computer screen fronting for a gigantic hard disc full of all kinds of data, everything from games and movies to specially created programs. The shows of the future may be the technological great grandchildren of current CD-ROM titles. These are compact discs that store data instead of music and can play on either television or computer screens. Toplay CD-ROMs today, you need a special machine. There are at least four models on the market, and titles produced for one format won't play on another. CD-ROMs do provide e glimpse of what the future might hold, however. A number of companies, including Newsweek, are developing multimedia products that combine text, video, sound and still photographs. The result is what may someday be a powerful new medium With no set story line as in a book or magazine. Users pick and choose information that interests them. Philips Interactive, for example, has dozens of titles, among them a tour of the Smithsonian, in which the viewer selects which corridor to enter by clicking on the screen. Other titles: &Jazz Glants,& a musical history, and &Escape from CyberCity,& an animated adventure game. Many investors are betting on entertainment as the most lucrative interactive market. But some industry observers predict the development of two parallel home markets, one catering to leisure activities and the other to businesses. Hawkins says the work-at-home market could be computer based and provide an outlet for teleconferencing and portable computing devices, like the Newton touted by Apple chairman John Soulley that can be carried in a pocket and runs on handwritten commands scribbled on a small screen. The entertainment market, primarily games and movies, would be centered on some kind of monitor. If all this comes to pass -- still a very big if -- the next step could be what Digital Media's Caruso calls &complete viewer control.& She says consumers would be a little like information &cowboys,& rounding up data from computer-based archives and information services. There will be thousands of &channels& delivered, Caruso thinks, through some combination of cable, telephone, satellite and cellular networks . To prevent getting trampled by a stampede of data, viewer s will rely on programmed electronic selectors that could go out into the info corral and rope in the subjects the viewer wants. Caruso's &final frontier& is what she calls video telephonya complete two-way link of video, audio and data. A user might stand in front of a monitor receiver and just talk and listen, communicating with whatever or whomever is Out There. Images and voices would be beamed back and forth. (At the very least, it would probably mean the end of anonymous obscene phone calls. ) &There is no exact analogy to any technology we've seen before,& says Red Burns, chair of the Interactive Telecommunications Program at New York University. &Inter active means we are all involved. There is no viewer. Interactive is like a conversation.& &Interactivity& may be the biggest buzzword of the moment, but & convergence & is a close second. It means different things to different people. To the moneymen, it means that everything will come together and they'll clean up. To scientists, it means that the technology has reached a critical point where fantasy could now become reality. Nicholas Negroponte, director of MIT's Media Lab, a leading think tank in this new world, remembers that back in the 1970s, a government agency gave him a grant on the condition th