Life, the Universe and Everything - Douglas Adams [0]
and his fifth Hitchhiker book
MOSTLY HARMLESS!
“Hitchhiker fans rejoice!… If you were hoping for more of the same zany, nonsensical mayhem produced in the earlier books, you’re in luck.”
—The New York Times Book Review
“It is Mr. Adams’s genius to hurl readers into a plot that seems to go everywhere and nowhere, then suddenly drop the pieces into place, click, click, click, like tumblers in a lock…. Delightful.”
—The Baltimore Sun
“A winner… The humor is hilarious, the cliff-hangers are cliff-hanging, and overall it’s classic Hitchhiker’s shtick…. For those of you wondering about Elvis’s whereabouts—well, read Mostly Harmless.”
—The Boston Phoenix
“The universe, the parallel universes, the pasts, the presents and the futures, indeed the Whole Sort of General Mish Mash is hilariously up for grabs in Mostly Harmless.”
—The Denver Post
Books by Douglas Adams
THE HITCHHIKER’S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY
THE RESTAURANT AT THE END OF THE UNIVERSE
LIFE, THE UNIVERSE AND EVERYTHING
SO LONG, AND THANKS FOR ALL THE FISH
DIRK GENTLY’S HOLISTIC DETECTIVE AGENCY
THE LONG DARK TEA-TIME OF THE SOUL
MOSTLY HARMLESS THE SALMON OF DOUBT
THE ULTIMATE HITCHHIKER’S GUIDE TO THE
GALAXY
THE ORIGINAL HITCHHIKER RADIO SCRIPTS
THE MEANING OF LIFF (with John Lloyd)
LAST CHANCE TO SEE (with Mark Carwardine)
THE DEEPER MEANING OF LIFF (with John Lloyd)
Books published by The Random House Publishing Group are available at quantity discounts on bulk purchases for premium, educational, fund-raising, and special sales use. For details, please call 1-800-733-3000.
For Sally
Chapter 1
he regular early morning yell of horror was the sound of Arthur Dent waking up and suddenly remembering where he was.
It wasn’t just that the cave was cold, it wasn’t just that it was damp and smelly. It was that the cave was in the middle of Islington and there wasn’t a bus due for two million years.
Time is the worst place, so to speak, to get lost in, as Arthur Dent could testify, having been lost in both time and space a good deal. At least being lost in space kept you busy.
He was stranded on prehistoric Earth as the result of a complex sequence of events that had involved his being alternately blown up and insulted in more bizarre regions of the Galaxy than he had ever dreamed existed, and though life had now turned very, very, very quiet, he was still feeling jumpy.
He hadn’t been blown up now for five years.
He had hardly seen anyone since he and Ford Prefect had parted company four years previously, and he hadn’t been insulted in all that time either.
Except just once.
It had happened on a spring evening about two years ago.
He was returning to his cave just a little after dusk when he became aware of lights flashing eerily through the clouds. He turned and stared, with hope suddenly clambering through his heart. Rescue. Escape. The castaway’s impossible dream—a ship.
And as he watched, as he stared in wonder and excitement, a long silver ship descended through the warm evening air, quietly, without fuss, its long legs unlocking in a smooth ballet of technology.
It alighted gently on the ground, and what little hum it had generated died away, as if lulled by the evening calm.
A ramp extended itself.
Light streamed out.
A tall figure appeared silhouetted in the hatchway. It walked down the ramp and stood in front of Arthur.
“You’re a jerk, Dent,” it said simply.
It was alien, very alien. It had a peculiar alien tallness, a peculiar alien flattened head, peculiar slitty little alien eyes, extravagantly draped golden robes with a peculiarly alien collar design, and pale gray green alien skin that had that lustrous sheen about it that most gray green races can acquire only with plenty of exercise and very expensive soap.
Arthur boggled at it.
It gazed levelly at him.
Arthur’s first sensations of hope and trepidation had instantly been overwhelmed by astonishment, and all sorts of thoughts were battling for the use of his vocal cords at this moment.
“Whh …?” he said.
“Bu