English to French Art/Literary Slang space-opera for adults

“Be honest. Were you, personally, ever that curious as to what was in this city to risk losing your sanity by coming down here?” Bael’s eyes were aglow with life as he eagerly pressed his point home. “Did you volunteer for this mission, or did Java-10 command it? Ah, notice how he fidgets. This wasn’t your idea, was it?”
“That has nothing to do—”
“It has everything to do with it. Jeff, you’re a puppet, a slave to that ship up there. Do a nice job, perform your mission well, and you’ll get a pat on the back, a commendation, maybe even a medal. Is that all your life is worth to you?”
“I’ve got a responsibility to the Corps, to Earth.”
“Screw them! What about your responsibility to good old number one? How about learning to enjoy yourself?”
“Earth needs me—”
“Sure, like President Ferguson needs another hole in his ass.” Bael looked around him. “Hey, come on over, fellas, join the party.”
Fifteen other men strolled out into the open space where Ryan and Bael were seated. They came from all directions, and their gaits were as leisurely as Bael’s had been. They were the rest of the explorers who had come to the city on previous expeditions. Ryan knew most of them, if not personally, then at least by reputation. They had been tough, experienced men before coming to the city. Now they appeared soft, relaxed, and well satisfied. They all greeted Bael and smiled warmly at Ryan.
“No doubt,” said Bael, “you want to whip out your communicator and tell Java-10 the good news that everyone is alive and well and gathered together here in one place.”


Nous sommes ici dans un un space-opera, écrit en 1975 par un auteur californien