It is a narrow room, a meter and a half wide, decorated『裝飾;布置』with the awkward『令人尷尬的;不合適的』minimalism『抽象派藝術』, peeling『剝落;脫落』white paint, tilting『傾斜;翹起』buffet『自助餐』tables, schoolroom chairs bolted『用螺栓拴緊』together into haphazard『雜亂的;隨意的』couches『沙發』.But the attraction here isn’t the decor『裝飾;布置』; it’s the machines: a beige『米色的』Compaq Proliant 2500 computer and an off-white Dell Power edge, hooked『鉤進;鉤住』into a refrigerator-size rack of network routers『路由器(連接數個區域網絡的中繼裝置)』and, from there, via a thumb-thick『拇指粗的』black cable, to the infinite『無限的;無邊的』abundance『豐富』of the Internet. Edward Zeng, the 35-year-old Chinese entrepreneur, can’t resist『忍住;抵抗』a grin『露齒的笑;咧嘴的笑』as he looks around the modest『不太大的;適度的』but astonishing『令人驚異的;令人吃驚的』room buried within a warren『擁擠的地區;擁擠的房屋』of offices in the bunker-like hallways『象地下室樣的過道』under Beijing’s Capital Stadium. “Welcome to ground zero,” he says.
這是間狹小的屋子，1.5米寬，裝飾著制作粗糙的抽象畫，剝脫的白色涂料，傾斜的快餐店用桌，用鉚釘固定在一起的教室用椅。但是這兒引起人們注意的不是它的裝飾，而是機器：一臺米色康柏Proliant 2500計算機和一臺灰白色的德爾Power edge，聯著一臺冰箱大小的網絡路由器，從那兒，通過一條拇指粗的黑色電纜線，進入廣袤無邊的因特網世界。指揮這個小小信息前哨的是35歲的中國企業家愛德華·曾，此刻，當他環視這個擠在北京首都體育館腳下一排擁擠的辦公室中簡樸然而卻令人振奮的小屋時，不禁咧嘴笑了。他說：“歡迎進入信息革命的中心。”
There is very little you cannot reach from Zeng’s tiny room. Zeng’s 1,000 Internet subscribers『預定者;認購者』can dial into his computers from all over Beijing and connect nearly limitlessly『無限地;沒有邊界地』to the electronic world. They can send e-mail, photos and news of China. And they can receive practically『差不多;幾乎』anything else.
在曾的小屋里你幾乎沒有得不到的東西。曾的1000位因特網用戶可以從北京各個地方撥號進入他的計算機，聯通幾乎沒有邊界的電子世界。他們能夠發送電子郵件、照片以及中國新聞。他們也能夠收到任何其他東西。
At night, hundreds of Chinese who don’t own a PC crowd into『蜂擁而入』Zeng’s six Internet Cafes, where Net time retails『零售』for $3.6 an hour. It’s fast food for the information age.
夜幕降臨時，數以百計沒有自己的個人計算機的中國人就會擁到曾的6間“網絡咖啡屋”中，這里的上網機收費為每小時3.6美元。這是信息時代的快餐。
This is China? That shows that Beijing has settled on『確立;確定』a policy for the Net that is as bold as it is surprising. A rising generation of Western-educated『接受西方教育的』officials is pressing『催促;勸說』home the argument that the Net is the perfect vehicle to transport『運送;運輸』the Middle Kingdom into the 21st century. “The Chinese get the Net, O.K.?” says Sean Maloney, who ran Intel’s Asia-Pacific operations for three years. “China is going to be unrecognizable『無法認出的;不能識別的』in five years. And a large part of that change is going to come through『顯露』the Internet and onto computer screens.”
這是中國嗎?這表明北京已經選定了一種贊同網絡的政策，這是一種既大膽又出人意料的舉措。處于上升態勢的一代受過西方教育的官員正在竭力使人們接受這種觀念，即網絡是將中央王國帶入21世紀的最好交通工具。曾經為英特爾公司負責過3年亞太業務的肖恩·馬洛尼說：“中國人上網了，對嗎?5年后中國人會變得讓你認不出來。這種變化的一大部分將通過因特網反映到計算機屏幕上?！?/p>
In January the Chinese government approved『批準』a new series of laws designed『設計;計劃』to control how citizens connect to the Internet. But although the laws featured『以……為特色』the usual restrictive『約束的;限制性的』rhetoric『辭令;言語』, they were clearly designed not to keep the Chinese off the Net but to get them online in an orderly way.
今年1月，中國政府批準了一系列旨在控制公民接通因特網的新法律，這些法律的初衷是控制公民與國際互聯網相連。盡管法律條文中充滿了具有限制特色的詞語，但其目的顯然不是不讓中國人上網，而是使他們有秩序地上網。
The official curiosity『好奇心』about the power of the Internet, have Beijing buzzing『唧唧喳喳』these days. From dinner parties given by top officials at the Great Hall of the People to bull『通過』sessions『會議』among young technocrat『技術專家官員』planners , the conversation has shifted from how to control the Net to how to exploit it. “The government is betting『斷定;確信』that PCs and the Net can help competitiveness,” says Thomas Lin, a Beijing-based product manager for Microsoft. “Now they want them on every desk.”
