Věda a fikce

I v beletrii se často objevují pasáže textu s vědeckým nebo kvazivědeckým obsahem, ať už s cílem objasnit detektivní zápletku či dokreslit prostředí pro jednající postavy. Mezi experty v tomto oboru se řadí například Arthur Hailey nebo Michael Crichton.

1. Najděte si základní informace o autorovi a díle (například ZDE), zaměřte se na knihu Kmen Andromeda.
2. Přečtěte si několik ukázek z Crichtonových textů, které jsou dostupné online, včetně kapitoly reprodukované níže. POkuse se charakterizova jeho autorský styl a identifikovat překladatelské problémy. Své názory vložte do komentáře k tomuto blogu.
3. V části textu určenék překladu vyhledejte odborné termíny, najděte a ověřte jejich překlad a vytvořte si tak "slovníček", abyste odbornou terminologii překládali důsledně správně.
4. Přeložte tučně vyznačenou část kapitoly 27. Kompletní text románu je k dispozici v Capse.

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Michael Crichton - The Andromeda Strain (1969)
27. Scared to Death
HALL WALKED BACK TO HIS LAB AND STARED through the glass
at the old man and the infant. He looked at the two of them
and tried to think, but his brain was running in frantic
circles. He found it difficult to think logically, and his
earlier sensation of being on the verge of a discovery was
lost.
For several minutes, he stared at the old man while
brief images passed before him: Burton dying, his hand
clutched to his chest. Los Angeles in panic, bodies
everywhere, cars going haywire, out of control...
It was then that he realized that he, too, was Scared.
Scared to death. The words came back to him.
Scared to death.
Somehow, that was the answer.
Slowly, forcing his brain to be methodical, he went over
it again.
A cop with diabetes. A cop who didn't take his insulin
and had a habit of going into ketoacidosis.
An old man who drank Sterno, which gave him methanolism,
and acidosis.
A baby, who did ... what? What gave him acidosis?
Hall shook his head. Always, he came back to the baby,
who was normal, not acidotic. He sighed.
Take it from the beginning, he told himself. Be logical.
If a man has metabolic acidosis-- any kind of acidosis-- what
does he do?
He has too much acid in his body. He can die from too
much acid, just as if he had injected hydrochloric acid into
his veins.
Too much acid meant death.
But the body could compensate. By breathing rapidly.
Because in that manner, the lungs blew off carbon dioxide,
and the body's supply of carbonic acid, which was what carbon
dioxide formed in the blood, decreased.
A way to get rid of acid.
Rapid breathing.
And Andromeda? What happened to the organism, when you
were acidotic and breathing fast?
Perhaps fast breathing kept the organism from getting
into your lungs long enough to penetrate to blood vessels.
Maybe that was the answer. But as soon as he thought of it,
he shook his head. No: something else. Some simple, direct
fact. Something they had always known, but somehow never
recognized.
The organism attacked through the lungs.
It entered the bloodstream.
It localized in the walls of arteries and veins,
particularly of the brain.
It produced damage.
This led to coagulation. Which was dispersed throughout
the body, or else led to bleeding, insanity, and death.
But in order to produce such rapid, severe damage, it
would take many organisms. Millions upon millions, collecting
in the arteries and veins. Probably you did not breathe in so
many.
So they must multiply in the bloodstream.
At a great rate. A fantastic rate.
And if you were acidotic? Did that halt multiplication?
Perhaps.
Again, he shook his head. Because a person with acidosis
like Willis or Jackson was one thing. But what about the
baby?
The baby was normal. If it breathed rapidly, it would
become alkalotic-basic, too little acid-- not acidotic. The
baby would go to the opposite extreme.
Hall looked through the glass, and as he did, the baby
awoke. Almost immediately it began to scream, its face
turning purple, the little eyes wrinkling, the mouth,
toothless and smooth-gummed, shrieking.
Scared to death.
And then the birds, with the fast metabolic rate, the
fast heart rates, the fast breathing rates. The birds, who
did everything fast. They, too, survived.
Breathing fast?
Was it as simple as that?
He shook his head. It couldn't be.
He sat down and rubbed his eyes. He had a headache, and
he felt tired. He kept thinking of Burton, who might die at
any minute. Burton, sitting there in the sealed room.
Hall felt the tension was unbearable. He suddenly felt
an overwhelming urge to escape it, to get away from
everything.
The TV screen clicked on. His technician appeared and
said, "Dr. Hall, we have Dr. Leavitt in the infirmary."
And Hall found himself saying, "I'll be right there."
***
He knew he was acting strangely. There was no reason to
see Leavitt. Leavitt was all right, perfectly fine, in no
danger. In going to see him, Hall knew that he was trying to
forget the other, more immediate problems. As he entered the
infirmary, he felt guilty.
His technician said, "He's sleeping."
"Post-ictal," Hall said. Persons after a seizure usually
slept.
"Shall we start Dilantin?"
"No. Wait and see. Perhaps we can hold him on
phenobarb."
He began a slow and meticulous examination of Leavitt.
His technician watched him and said, "You're tired."
"Yes," said Hall. "It's past my bedtime."
On a normal day, he would now be driving home on the
expressway. So would Leavitt: going home to his family in
Pacific Palisades. The Santa Monica Expressway.
He saw it vividly for a moment, the long lines of cars
creeping slowly forward.
And the signs by the side of the road. Speed limit 65
maximum, 40 minimum. They always seemed like a cruel joke at
rush hour.
Maximum and minimum.
Cars that drove slowly were a menace. You had to keep
traffic moving at a fairly constant rate, little difference
between the fastest and the slowest, and you had to...
He stopped.
"I've been an idiot," he said.
And he turned to the computer.
***
In later weeks, Hall referred to it as his "highway
diagnosis. " The principle of it was so simple, so clear and
obvious, he was surprised none of them had thought of it
before.
He was excited as he punched in instructions for the
GROWTH program into the computer; he had to punch in the
directions three times; his fingers kept making mistakes.
At last the program was set. On the display screen, he
saw what he wanted: growth of Andromeda as a function of pH,
of acidity-alkalinity.
The results were quite clear:
[GRAPHIC: colony growth versus pH, bell shaped curve
centered at pH 7.41 and dying at 7.39/7.43]
The Andromeda Strain grew within a narrow range. If the
medium for growth was too acid, the organism would not
multiply. If it was too basic, it would not multiply. Only
within the range of pH 7.39 to 7.43 would it grow well.
He stared at the graph for a moment, then ran for the
door. On his way out he grinned at his assistant and said,
"It's all over. Our troubles are finished."
He could not have been more wrong.