The Orion Cinema closes forever at midnight, and the demolition crew arrives at six. Sara has known this for two weeks, and she has spent every night of them making a plan.
猎户座电影院在午夜永远关门，拆迁队清晨六点就到。萨拉知道这件事已经两个星期了，这两个星期里她每天夜里都在做计划。
Tonight she stands in the dark lobby with a pair of roller skates hanging over her shoulder. Her mother spent a month writing letters to the council, and at last they agreed. Sara may copy the old machine in the ticket booth, but only before midnight. At midnight a timer drops the steel shutter over the front doors, and nobody at the council knows how to stop it.
今晚，她站在黑漆漆的大厅里，肩上挂着一双旱冰鞋。她妈妈花了一个月给市政委员会写信，他们终于同意了：萨拉可以复制售票亭里那台老机器，但只能在午夜之前。午夜时，一个定时器会把钢制卷帘门放下来，封住前门，而委员会里没有人知道怎么阻止它。
Outside, in the propped-open glass doors, Beto checks the screen of his tablet for the fifth time in a minute. The copying program talks to the drive over a weak wireless link, and the only place with a signal is out there. His voice crackles from the radio on her belt.
外面，在撑开的玻璃门口，贝托一分钟里第五次查看他平板电脑的屏幕。复制程序通过微弱的无线连接和存储盘通信，而唯一有信号的地方就在外面。他的声音从她腰带上的对讲机里噼啪传来。
"Booth is thirty metres away," he says. "Once the shutter locks, nobody gets back in until the crew opens it at six."
“售票亭离你三十米，”他说，“卷帘门一锁上，在拆迁队六点开门之前，谁也进不去。”
"Then we need to be fast," says Sara. "That's why I brought the skates."
“那我们就得快，”萨拉说，“所以我才带了旱冰鞋。”
"You're going to skate across the lobby?"
“你要滑过大厅？”
"The carpet is worn flat. Skating takes seven seconds. Walking takes forty."
“地毯已经磨平了。滑过去七秒。走过去要四十秒。”
Beto goes quiet on the radio. It is a good point, and he hates it.
对讲机里的贝托安静了。这话有道理，他讨厌这一点。
What they came for sits inside the old ticket booth at the far end of the lobby. Everyone in the neighbourhood knows the booth is empty, but only a few people know that the machine under its counter still runs. It is a small grey box, built decades ago to count tickets, and somewhere along the way it learned to remember. Nobody planned it. Over thirty years, the machine listened to ten thousand conversations through the little brass speaker in the glass, and it kept every one of them. Children asking for seats at the front, couples arguing about the film, someone's voice saying a hundred times, "Two, please."
他们要找的东西，就在大厅另一头那座旧售票亭里。附近的人都知道售票亭是空的，却只有少数人知道，柜台下面那台机器还能运转。那是一只灰色的小盒子，几十年前造出来是为了数票，而在不知哪一步，它学会了记忆。没有人这样计划过。三十年里，这台机器通过玻璃窗上那只小小的黄铜扬声器听过上万段对话，并且把每一段都留了下来。孩子们要前排的座位，情侣们为影片争吵，还有某个人的声音一遍又一遍地说：“两张，谢谢。”
The council says it is only an old computer. Sara's mother worked in that booth for six years, and she says it is the best listener she ever met.
委员会说，那只是一台旧电脑。萨拉的妈妈在那个售票亭里工作过六年，她说它是她遇见过的最好的倾听者。
"Ninety seconds," says Beto. "The machine needs ninety seconds to copy onto the drive. If the power cuts out in the middle, the memory is corrupted."
“九十秒，”贝托说，“机器需要九十秒才能复制到存储盘里。要是中途断电，记忆就损坏了。”
"Then I'll skate in at ten to midnight and be out by midnight."
“那我十二点差十分滑进去，十二点整之前出来。”
"You'll be tired and nervous," he says.
“你会累，也会紧张的，”他说。
"I won't be nervous."
“我不会紧张。”
"You've tied that left skate three times."
“你的左脚冰鞋已经系了三遍了。”
She looks down. He is right, and she ties it a fourth time to prove that she can.
她低头看了看。他说得对，她又系了第四遍，以证明自己可以。
At ten to midnight, she pushes off. The wheels purr across the carpet and the lobby streams past in a blur of gold paint and faded posters. She reaches the booth in six seconds, slips into the narrow glass cabin, and pulls the drive from her sleeve. The little grey box sits under the counter, humming gently, like something that has been waiting.
十二点差十分，她蹬了出去。轮子在地毯上发出低低的嗡嗡声，大厅在她身旁化成一片模糊的金漆和褪色的海报。她用了六秒钟到达售票亭，钻进狭窄的玻璃小间，从袖子里抽出存储盘。那只灰色的小盒子在柜台下面轻轻地嗡嗡作响，像是一直在等待的东西。
"Hello," says Sara, and the speaker crackles.
“你好，”萨拉说，扬声器噼啪作响。
"Two, please," says a voice, thin and slow and friendly. It is her mother's voice from years ago, played back as if it were a greeting.
“两张，谢谢，”一个声音说，纤细、缓慢、友好。那是她妈妈多年前的声音，被放了出来，就像一句问候。
Sara swallows hard. Then she plugs in the drive.
萨拉使劲咽了一下口水。然后她插上了存储盘。
"Twenty percent," Beto says over the radio. "Forty. It's working."
“百分之二十，”贝托在对讲机里说，“四十。有用了。”
At sixty percent, a faint metallic whine fills the lobby, and the overhead lights flicker on without warning. All the old bulbs in the ceiling burn at once, throwing their white glare over the carpet.
到百分之六十时，一阵微弱的金属尖鸣充满了大厅，头顶的灯毫无预兆地亮了起来。天花板上所有的老灯泡同时点亮，把白花花的强光洒在地毯上。
"Sara," Beto says. "The building thinks it's closing time. The timer is running early."
“萨拉，”贝托说，“这栋楼以为到了关门时间。定时器提前运行了。”
"What does that mean?"
“那是什么意思？”
"The shutter. It's coming down now."
“卷帘门。它现在就要落下来了。”
Across the lobby, a heavy steel door starts to slide from the ceiling with a slow, grinding groan. It is already at head height, and Beto is standing on the wrong side of it. Her plan was perfect except for one thing nobody could predict. The cinema, like the machine in the booth, does not want to be forgotten.
大厅对面，一扇沉重的钢门从天花板上缓缓滑下来，发出缓慢而刺耳的呻吟。它已经降到头那么高了，而贝托站在它错误的那一侧。她的计划本来完美无缺，只除了一件谁也预料不到的事。这家电影院，和售票亭里的那台机器一样，不想被忘记。
"Ninety percent," Beto says. "Ten more seconds."
“百分之九十，”贝托说，“再有十秒。”
"I don't have ten seconds, and neither does the shutter!"
“我没有十秒，卷帘门也没有！”
"Then use the skates!"
“那就用冰鞋！”
"I'm already wearing them!"
“我已经穿着呢！”
The shutter reaches her waist. If it closes, the steel will cut the signal to Beto's tablet, and the copy is lost. The building will be flattened with thirty years of voices inside, her mother's young one among them. She stares at the booth, then at the descending steel. A different plan begins to form, a bad one, but better than none.
卷帘门降到了她的腰部。如果它关上，钢板会切断贝托平板电脑的信号，复制就白费了。这座楼会被夷平，连同里面三十年的声音，包括她妈妈年轻时的那一个。她盯着售票亭，又盯着往下落的钢板。另一个计划开始成形，一个糟糕的计划，但总比没有强。
She kicks off her left skate and sends it rolling hard toward the front doors. It slides under the shutter, and she watches it go with her heart in her mouth. The steel comes down on it with a crunch of plastic and metal. Then it stops. The motors strain and whine, but the shutter cannot go any lower than the skate allows. It hangs there at the height of her knee.
她踢掉左脚的冰鞋，使劲把它朝前门滚了过去。它从卷帘门下面滑了出去，她看着它走，心都提到了嗓子眼。钢板压在它上面，发出塑料和金属的嘎吱声。然后它停住了。马达使劲地嘶叫，可卷帘门不能比冰鞋允许的高度再低了。它悬在那里，只到她膝盖那么高。
"It's holding," Beto breathes. "It's actually holding."
“撑住了，”贝托屏着气说，“它真的撑住了。”
"One hundred percent?"
“百分之一百了吗？”
"Done. The drive is finished."
“好了。存储盘完成了。”
Sara pulls the drive from the machine and presses a hand against the grey box. It hums once more, soft and low, and she could swear that it says something else, though the voice is too quiet to make out. Then the booth lights go dim, and the machine falls silent.
萨拉把存储盘从机器上拔下来，把一只手按在灰色的盒子上。它再一次低低地、柔和地嗡鸣了一声，她简直可以发誓它还说了别的什么，只是声音太轻，听不清。然后售票亭的灯暗了下去，机器沉默了。
"Thank you," she whispers.
“谢谢你，”她低声说。
She hops, rolls and slides back across the carpet on one skate, until she drops to her knees by the gap. The metal groans above her, and the skate bends, but it holds. She pushes the drive through first, and a hand takes it from the other side.
她单脚蹦着、滑着，沿着地毯滑了回去，直到跪倒在缝隙旁边。头顶的金属呻吟着，冰鞋弯了，但撑住了。她先把存储盘推了出去，另一边有一只手把它接了过去。
"Got it," says Beto. "Now get out of there!"
“拿到了，”贝托说，“现在快出来！”
"The side door," she says. "Mum's letter says the fire door opens from the inside, whatever the timer does."
“侧门，”她说，“妈妈的信上说，不管定时器怎么样，消防门都能从里面打开。”
She runs the last stretch in her socks. The fire door has a long metal bar across it, and when she leans on it, the door swings open onto the cold night air. Behind her, the shutter finally gives up. The bent skate pops out like a cork. The steel crashes down onto the lobby tiles with a boom that echoes down the empty street.
最后一段路，她穿着袜子跑完。消防门上横着一根长长的金属杆，她用身体一压，门就朝着冰冷的夜空敞开了。她身后，卷帘门终于放弃了。那只弯掉的冰鞋像瓶塞一样弹了出来。钢板轰的一声砸在大厅的地砖上，响声在空荡荡的街道上回荡。
For a long moment, neither of them moves. Beto is laughing at the tablet, and Sara sits on the kerb with her one skate in her lap.
好一会儿，两个人谁也没有动。贝托对着平板电脑笑了起来，萨拉坐在路缘上，腿上放着她仅剩的那只冰鞋。
"Play it," he says.
“放出来听听，”他说。
She takes the drive, taps the first file, and holds the speaker up to the night. The thin, slow, friendly voice says, "Two, please."
她拿着存储盘，点开第一个文件，把扬声器举向夜空。那个纤细、缓慢、友好的声音说：“两张，谢谢。”
