Fabrice wakes before the lights come on. In the garden module of the station, there is no morning and no evening. The lamps follow a plan, and the plants follow the lamps. He floats through the hatch with a water bag in one hand and a notebook in the other.
法布里斯在灯亮起之前就醒了。在空间站的花园舱里，没有早晨，也没有傍晚。灯光按计划亮灭，植物跟着灯光生长。他一手拿着水袋，一手拿着笔记本，飘过舱门。
The module is small, and it smells of leaves and warm earth. Green walls of lettuce cover the left side. Dwarf wheat grows in neat rows above the door. At the far end, three tomato plants climb their wires toward the light. They are the pride of the whole crew.
这个舱很小，弥漫着叶子和温暖泥土的气味。左边是一整面绿色的生菜墙。门上方的几排整整齐齐地长着矮小麦。尽头处，三株番茄沿着支架向光亮攀爬。它们是全体船员的骄傲。
Fabrice has worked here for five months. He knows every plant by its smell. He checks the water tubes first, then the roots, then the leaves. He writes numbers in his notebook with a pencil on a string. Everything on the station must be tied to something, or it drifts away.
法布里斯在这里工作了五个月。他闻味道就能认出每一株植物。他先检查水管，再检查根，然后检查叶子。他用一支系着细绳的铅笔把数字写进笔记本。空间站里的一切都必须系在什么东西上，否则就会飘走。
Around his neck hangs a thin silver chain. At the end of it is a small pendant in the shape of a seed. His daughter gave it to him on the morning of his launch. "Keep it close," she said. "Then you will always bring something green home." He has worn it every day since.
他的脖子上挂着一条细细的银链子，链子末端是一个种子形状的小吊坠。那是他出发那天早晨，女儿送给他的。“带在身边，”她说，“这样你就一定会带点绿色的东西回家。”从那以后，他每天都戴着它。
The trouble is the clasp. It is a tiny hook that was never made for a place without weight. On Earth, the chain hangs down and holds it shut. Here, the chain floats, and the hook slowly opens by itself. This has happened four times this week.
麻烦出在搭扣上。那是一个小小的钩子，根本不是为没有重力的地方做的。在地球上，链子垂下来，把钩子压紧。在这里，链子漂浮着，钩子会慢慢自己打开。这个星期已经发生四次了。
This morning it happens again. Fabrice bends over the lettuce, and he feels the chain slide away from his skin. He turns quickly. The seed pendant drifts across the module, slow and bright, straight toward the grille of the air vent. If it touches the grille, the fan will pull it in.
今天早晨又发生了。法布里斯俯身照看生菜，感觉到链子从皮肤上滑开。他急忙转身。种子吊坠缓慢而明亮地飘过舱室，径直飘向通风口的格栅。如果它碰到格栅，风扇就会把它吸进去。
He pushes off the wall and flies after it. His fingers close around the chain one hand's width from the vent. The fan hums. His heart beats hard in his ears. He stays there for a moment, holding his daughter's gift, and breathing slowly.
他一蹬墙壁，飞身追去。在离通风口一只手掌宽的地方，他的手指握住了链子。风扇嗡嗡作响。他的心跳在耳边咚咚直响。他停在那里片刻，握着女儿的礼物，缓缓呼吸。
"That was close," says a calm voice from the hatch. Sven, the station engineer, hangs in the doorway with a toolbag. He has a long grey beard that floats around his face like a small cloud. "I heard you shout. Was it the necklace again?"
“好险，”舱门口传来一个平静的声音。是空间站的工程师斯文，他拎着一只工具包悬在门口。他有一把灰色的长胡子，像一小朵云似的飘在脸旁。“我听见你喊了一声。又是项链吗？”
"The clasp," Fabrice says. "It opens every few hours. One day I will not catch it."
“搭扣，”法布里斯说，“每隔几个小时就会开一次。总有一天我抓不住它。”
Sven floats closer and looks at the chain. He turns the little hook between two fingers. "This clasp is too weak for life up here. I can fix it, but I have two ideas, and both are good."
斯文飘近了，看着链子。他用两根手指转动那个小钩子。“这个搭扣不够结实，撑不住这里的生活。我可以修好它，不过我有两个主意，两个都不错。”
Fabrice waits. He knows that Sven likes to explain things slowly.
法布里斯等着。他知道斯文喜欢慢慢地解释事情。
"The first idea is a tiny screw clasp," Sven says. "I can print one in the workshop tonight. You close it with a small tool, and it will never open by itself. But when you want it off, you can take it off."
“第一个主意是一个小螺丝扣，”斯文说，“今晚我可以在工作间里打印一个。你用小工具把它拧紧，它就永远不会自己打开。可你想摘的时候，也能摘下来。”
"And the second idea?"
“第二个主意呢？”
"No clasp at all. I make the chain into one closed loop, just big enough to go over your head. Nothing to break. Nothing to open. But you cannot take it off without cutting it."
“完全不用搭扣。我把链子做成一个封闭的圆环，大小刚好能套过你的头。没有会断的地方，也没有会开的地方。可是你要摘下来，就只能剪断它。”
Fabrice laughs. "Both are good. That is the problem."
法布里斯笑了。“两个都不错。问题就在这儿。”
"Take your time," Sven says. "I will be in the workshop until dinner." He pushes off the doorframe and glides away.
“慢慢想，”斯文说，“我会在工作间待到晚饭时候。”他一蹬门框，滑走了。
All morning, Fabrice works and thinks. He thins the lettuce. He measures the wheat. He pollinates the tomato flowers with a small soft brush, one by one. Every time he stops, his hand goes to the pendant, to check that it is still there.
整个上午，法布里斯一边干活，一边思考。他给生菜间苗，测量小麦，用一把柔软的小刷子给番茄花一朵一朵地授粉。每次停下来，他的手都会摸向吊坠，确认它还在。
At first he likes the screw clasp. It would let him take the chain off at night, or when he works with the nutrient liquid. A loose chain near the fans can be dangerous. And on the day he flies home, he must take everything off for the long ride. A loop he cannot remove sounds like a trap.
起初，他喜欢螺丝扣。这样晚上他可以把链子摘下来，或者在处理营养液时摘下。链子松散地挂在风扇附近，可能有危险。而且回家那天，他得把所有东西都摘下来，才能经历漫长的返程。一个摘不下来的圆环，听起来像个陷阱。
Then the middle of the day comes, and he tries an experiment. He takes the pendant off and puts it on the shelf beside his notebook. He ties it down with a loose bit of string, like a careful person. He works for ten minutes on the tomato wires. When he turns around, the string is loose, and the seed is drifting past the lettuce.
到了中午，他做了一个实验。他把吊坠摘下，放在笔记本旁边的架子上。他像个谨慎的人那样，用一小段细绳松松地把它拴住。他在番茄支架上忙了十分钟。转过身来时，绳子松开了，种子正飘过生菜。
He catches it again. He does it a second time, to be sure. The third time, he does not need to be sure. Every time he puts it down, it leaves him.
他又把它抓了回来。为了确认，他又试了第二次。到第三次，他已经不需要确认了。每一次他把它放下，它都会离他而去。
He thinks about this while he eats lunch from a silver bag. He thinks about how the clasp was never the real problem. The problem was the moment when the necklace was not touching him. On this station, nothing stays where you put it. The only things that stay are the ones you keep on your body.
他一边从银色的袋子里吃午饭，一边想着这件事。他想到，搭扣从来不是真正的问题。问题在于项链不贴着他的那一刻。在这个空间站里，没有什么东西会待在你放它的地方。唯一会留下来的，是你戴在身上的东西。
In the afternoon, he finds Sven in the workshop. The room is full of small drawers and soft lamps. A printing machine hums in the corner, building something thin and white.
下午，他在工作间里找到了斯文。屋子里满是小抽屉和柔和的灯光。角落里，一台打印机嗡嗡作响，正在做出一件又细又白的东西。
"I have decided," Fabrice says. "I want the closed loop."
“我决定了，”法布里斯说，“我要封闭的圆环。”
Sven raises one grey eyebrow. "Even though you cannot take it off?"
斯文挑起一道灰色的眉毛。“即使你摘不下来？”
"I do not want to take it off. That is what I learned today." Fabrice tells him about the shelf, the string and the drifting seed. "Every time I put it down, I lose it. If I never put it down, I never lose it."
“我不想摘下来。这就是我今天学到的。”法布里斯向他讲了架子、细绳和飘走的种子。“每次我把它放下，我就会弄丢它。如果我从不放下，就永远不会丢。”
"And on the day you go home?"
“那你回家那天呢？”
"Then you can cut it, and I will thank you." Fabrice smiles. "My daughter will help me choose a new chain. She will like that more than a clasp."
“到时候你把它剪开，我会谢谢你的。”法布里斯笑了。“我女儿会帮我挑一条新链子。比起搭扣，她会更喜欢这个。”
Sven nods slowly. He takes the necklace and holds it under a small lamp. With a tiny heat tool and a steady hand, he joins the ends of the chain. The silver glows for a second. He lets it cool in the air, then checks the join with a magnifying glass.
斯文缓缓点头。他拿起项链，放在一盏小灯下。他用一个微型加热工具，手很稳，把链子的两端接在一起。银子亮了一瞬。他让它在空气中冷却，又用放大镜检查接口。
"It is smooth," he says. "You will never feel it." He lifts the chain and slips it gently over Fabrice's head. The pendant floats up for a moment and then settles against his chest.
“很光滑，”他说，“你永远感觉不到它。”他提起链子，轻轻套过法布里斯的头。吊坠飘起了片刻，然后落在他胸前。
Fabrice touches it. It feels the same as before, and also completely different. It feels finished.
法布里斯摸了摸它。它感觉和以前一样，却又完全不同。它感觉完整了。
Late that evening, the lamps in the garden module slowly dim to their night colour. Fabrice floats alone between the green walls. The lettuce leaves move gently in the soft air from the vents. Beyond the small round window, the Earth turns, blue and white, very quiet.
当晚很晚的时候，花园舱的灯慢慢暗下来，变成夜晚的颜色。法布里斯独自飘在绿色的墙壁之间。生菜叶子在通风口吹出的柔风中轻轻摆动。在小小的圆窗外，地球缓缓转动，蓝白相间，十分宁静。
At the end of the module, the biggest tomato is changing colour. This morning it was green. Now one side is pale orange, like the first light before dawn. Fabrice floats beside it and watches. The silver seed rises a little on its loop. It rests against his shirt, bright in the lamplight, beside the slow green and gold.
舱的尽头，最大的那个番茄正在变色。今天早晨它还是绿的。现在一侧已经泛出淡橙色，像黎明前的第一缕光。法布里斯飘在它旁边，望着它。银色的种子在它的环上微微升起，贴着他的衬衫，在灯光中闪亮，旁边是缓缓变化的绿与金。
