Life, the Universe, and Everything [22]
He stopped and looked up.
It suddenly occurred to Arthur that, coming as this did at the end, so to speak, or rather the beginning of all the horror they had just blurredly experienced, something nasty must be about to happen. He was distressed to think that something nasty could happen to somewhere as idyllic as this. He too glanced up. There was nothing in the sky.
"They're not about to attack here, are they?" he said. He realized that this was merely a recording he was walking through, but he still felt alarmed.
"Nothing is about to attack here," said Slartibartfast in a voice which unexpectedly trembled with emotion. "This is where it all started. This is the place itself. This is Krikkit."
He stared up into the sky.
The sky, from one horizon to another, from east to west, from north to south, was utterly and completely black.
Chapter 11
Stomp stomp.
Whirrr.
"Pleased to be of service."
"Shut up."
"Thank you."
Stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp.
Whirrr.
"Thank you for making a simple door very happy."
"Hope your diodes rot."
"Thank you. Have a nice day."
Stomp stomp stomp stomp.
Whirrr.
"It is my pleasure to open for you ..."
"Zark off."
"... and my satisfaction to close again with the knowledge of a job well done."
"I said zark off."
"Thank you for listening to this message."
Stomp stomp stomp stomp.
"Wop."
Zaphod stopped stomping. He had been stomping around the Heart of Gold for days, and so far no door had said "wop" to him. He was fairly certain that no door had said "wop" to him now. It was not the sort of thing doors said. Too concise. Furthermore, there were not enough doors. It sounded as if a hundred thousand people had said "wop", which puzzled him because he was the only person on the ship.
It was dark. Most of the ship's non-essential systems were closed down. It was drifting in a remote area of the Galaxy, deep in the inky blackness of space. So which particular hundred thousand people would turn up at this point and say a totally unexpected "wop"?
He looked about him, up the corridor and down the corridor. It was all in deep shadow. There were just the very dim pinkish outlines of the doors which glowed in the dark and pulsed whenever they spoke, though he had tried every way he could think of of stopping them.
The lights were off so that his heads could avoid looking at each other, because neither of them was currently a particularly engaging sight, and nor had they been since he had made the error of looking into his soul.
It had indeed been an error. It had been late one night — of course.
It had been a difficult day — of course.
There had been soulful music playing on the ship's sound system — of course.
And he had, of course, been slightly drunk.
In other words, all the usual conditions which bring on a bout of soul-searching had applied, but it had, nevertheless, clearly been an error.
Standing now, silent and alone in the dark corridor he remembered the moment and shivered. His one head looked one way and his other the other and each decided that the other was the way to go.
He listened but could hear nothing.
All there had been was the "wop".
It seemed an awfully long way to bring an awfully large number of people just to say one word.
He started nervously to edge his way in the direction of the bridge. There at least he would feel in control. He stopped again. The way he was feeling he didn't think he was an awfully good person to be in control.
The first shock of that moment, thinking back, had been discovering that he actually had a soul.
In fact he'd always more or less assumed that he had one as he had a full complement of everything else, and indeed two of somethings, but suddenly actually to encounter the thing lurking there deep within him had giving him a severe jolt.
And then to discover (this was the second shock) that it wasn't the totally wonderful object which he felt a man in his position had a natural right to expect had