Space-lag, he said, is very bad for sub-clauses. You’ll have to assist me again, he continued, by reminding me what I was talking about.
“Between the stars,” said Arthur, “known on your world, though not necessarily to you, dear lady, as…”
“Pleiades Epsilon and Pleiades Zeta,” concluded Ford triumphantly. This conversation lark is quite gas isn’t it?
Have some coffee.
Thank you, no. “And the reason,” I said, “why I am bothering you with it rather than just dialling direct as I could, because we have some pretty sophisticated telecommunications equipment out here in the Pleiades, I can tell you, is that the penny pinching son of a starbeast piloting this son of a starbeast spaceship insists that I call collect. Can you believe that?”
And could she?
I don’t know. She had hung up, said Ford, by this time. So! What do you suppose, he asked fiercely, I did next?
I’ve no idea, Ford, said Arthur.
Pity, said Ford, I was hoping you could remind me. I really hate those guys you know. They really are the creeps of the cosmos, buzzing around the celestial infinite with their junky little machines that never work properly or, when they do, perform functions that no sane man would require of them and, he added savagely, go beep to tell you when they’ve done it!
This was perfectly true, and a very respectable view widely held by right thinking people, who are largely recognizable as being right thinking people by the mere fact that they hold this view.
The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, in a moment of reasoned lucidity which is almost unique among its current tally of five million, nine hundred and seventy-five thousand, five hundred and nine pages, says of the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation product that “it is very easy to be blinded to the essential uselessness of them by the sense of achievement you get from getting them to work at all”.
In other words and this is the rock solid principle on which the whole of the Corporation’s Galaxy-wide success is founded their fundamental design flaws are completely hidden by their superficial design flaws.
And this guy, ranted Ford, was on a drive to sell more of them! His five-year mission to seek out and explore strange new worlds, and sell Advanced Music Substitute Systems to their restaurants, elevators and wine bars! Or if they didn’t have restaurants, elevators and wine bars yet, to artificially accelerate their civilization growth until they bloody well did have! Where’s that coffee!
I threw it away.
Make some more. I have now remembered what I did next. I saved civilization as we know it. I knew it was something like that.
He stumbled determinedly back into the sitting room, where he seemed to carry on talking to himself, tripping over the furniture and making beep beep noises.
A couple of minutes later, wearing his very placid face, Arthur followed him.
Ford looked stunned.
adj. 安静的,平和的