Marvin! hissed a voice.
His head snapped up, almost dislodging the intricate network of electrodes which connected him to the central Krikkit War Computer.
An inspection hatch had opened and one of a pair of unruly heads was peering through whilst the other kept on jogging it by continually darting to look this way and that extremely nervously.
Oh, it’s you, muttered the robot. I might have known.
Hey, kid, said Zaphod in astonishment, was that you singing just then?
I am, Marvin acknowledged bitterly, in particularly scintillating form at the moment.
Are you alone? he said.
Yes, said Marvin. Wearily I sit here, pain and misery my only companions. And vast intelligence of course. And infinite sorrow. And…
Yeah, said Zaphod. Hey, what’s your connection with all this?
This, said Marvin, indicating with his less damaged arm all the electrodes which connected him with the Krikkit computer.
Then, said Zaphod awkwardly, I guess you must have saved my life. Twice.
Three times, said Marvin.
Zaphod’s head snapped round (his other one was looking hawkishly in entirely the wrong direction) just in time to see the lethal killer robot directly behind him seize up and start to smoke. It staggered backwards and slumped against a wall. It slid down it. It slipped sideways, threw its head back and started to sob inconsolably.
Zaphod looked back at Marvin.
You must have a terrific outlook on life, he said.
Just don’t even ask, said Marvin.
I won’t, said Zaphod, and didn’t. Hey look, he added, you’re doing a terrific job.
Which means, I suppose, said Marvin, requiring only one ten thousand million billion trillion grillionth part of his mental powers to make this particular logical leap, that you’re not going to release me or anything like that.
Kid, you know I’d love to.
But you’re not going to.
No.
I see.
You’re working well.