The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - 02 - The Restaurant at the End of the Universe by Douglas Adams

Author:Douglas Adams
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780345391810
Publisher: Random House, Inc.
Published: 1995-09-27T10:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

The main reception foyer was almost empty but Ford nevertheless weaved his way through it.

Zaphod grasped him firmly by the arm and maneuvered him into a cubicle standing to one side of the entrance hall.

“What are you doing to him?” asked Arthur.

“Sobering him up,” said Zaphod and pushed a coin into a slot. Lights flashed, gases swirled.

“Hi,” said Ford stepping out a moment later, “where are we going?”

“Down to the parking lot, come on.”

“What about the personnel Time Teleports?” said Ford. “Get us straight back to the Heart of Gold.”

“Yeah, but I’ve cooled on that ship. Zarniwoop can have it. I don’t want to play his games. Let’s see what we can find.”

A Sirius Cybernetics Corporation Happy Vertical People Transporter took them down deep into the substrata beneath the Restaurant. They were glad to see it had been vandalized and didn’t try to make them happy as well as take them down.

At the bottom of the shaft the elevator doors opened and a blast of cold stale air hit them.

The first thing they saw on leaving the elevator was a long concrete wall with over fifty doors in it offering lavatory facilities for all of fifty major life forms. Nevertheless, like every parking lot in the Galaxy throughout the entire history of parking lots, this parking lot smelled predominantly of impatience.

They turned a corner and found themselves on a moving catwalk that traversed a vast cavernous space that stretched off into the dim distance.

It was divided off into bays each of which contained a spaceship belonging to one of the diners upstairs, some smallish and utilitarian mass production models, others vast shining limoships, the playthings of the very rich.

Zaphod’s eyes sparkled with something that may or may not have been avarice as he passed over them. In fact it’s best to be clear on this point—avarice is definitely what it was.

“There he is,” said Trillian. “Marvin, down there.”

They looked where she was pointing. Dimly they could see a small metal figure listlessly rubbing a small rag on one remote corner of a giant silver suncruiser.

At short intervals along the moving catwalk, wide transparent tubes led down to floor level. Zaphod stepped off the catwalk into one of these and floated gently downward. The others followed. Thinking back to this later, Arthur Dent thought it was the single most enjoyable experience of his travels in the Galaxy.

“Hey, Marvin,” said Zaphod, striding over toward him. “Hey, kid, are we pleased to see you.”

Marvin turned, and insofar as it is possible for a totally inert metal face to look reproachful, this is what it did.

“No you’re not,” he said, “no one ever is.”

“Suit yourself,” said Zaphod and turned away to ogle the ships. Ford went with him.

Only Trillian and Arthur actually went up to Marvin.

“No, really we are,” said Trillian and patted him in a way that he disliked intensely, “hanging around waiting for us all this time.”

“Five hundred and seventy-six thousand million, three thousand five hundred and seventy-nine years,” said Marvin. “I counted them.

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