Life, the Universe and Everything - Douglas Adams [27]
He stared at them in shock.
It was impossible to explain why, but their smooth and sleek white bodies seemed to be the utter embodiment of clean, clinical evil. From their hideously dead eyes to their powerful lifeless feet, they were clearly the calculated product of a mind that wanted simply to kill. Zaphod gulped in cold fear.
They had been dismantling part of the rear wall, and had forced a passage through some of the vital innards of the ship. Through the tangled wreckage Zaphod could see, with a further and worse sense of shock, that they were tunneling toward the very heart of the ship, the heart of the Improbability Drive that had been so mysteriously created out of thin air, the Heart of Gold itself.
The robot closest to him was regarding him in such a way as to suggest that it was measuring each minute particle of his body, mind and capability. And when it spoke, what it said seemed to bear this impression out. Before going on to what it actually said, it is worth recording at this point that Zaphod was the first living organic being to hear one of these creatures speak for something over ten billion years. If he had paid more attention to his ancient history lessons and less to his organic being, he might have been more impressed by this honor.
The robot’s voice was like its body, cold, sleek and lifeless. It had almost a cultured rasp to it. It sounded as ancient as it was.
It said, “You do have a Kill-O-Zap blaster pistol in your hand.”
Zaphod didn’t know what it meant for a moment, but then he glanced down at his own hand and was relieved to see that what he had found clipped to a wall bracket was indeed what he had thought it was.
“Yeah,” he said in a kind of relieved sneer, which is quite tricky, “well, I wouldn’t want to overtax your imagination, robot.”
For a while nobody said anything, and Zaphod realized that the robots were obviously not here to make conversation, and that it was up to him.
“I can’t help noticing that you have parked your ship,” he said with a nod of one of his heads in the appropriate direction, “through mine.”
There was no denying this. Without regard for any kind of proper dimensional behavior they had simply materialized their ship precisely where they wanted it to be, which meant that it was simply locked through the Heart of Gold as if they were nothing more than two combs.
Again, they made no response to this, and Zaphod wondered if the conversation would gather any momentum if he phrased his part of it in the form of questions.
“Haven’t you?” he added.
“Yes,” replied the robot.
“Er, okay,” said Zaphod, “so what are you cats doing here?”
Silence.
“Robots,” said Zaphod, “what are you robots doing here?”
“We have come,” rasped the robot, “for the Golden Bail.”
Zaphod nodded. He waggled his gun to invite further elaboration. The robot seemed to understand this.
“The Golden Bail is part of the Key we seek,” continued the robot, “to release our Masters from Krikkit.”
Zaphod nodded again. He waggled his gun again.
“The Key,” continued the robot simply, “was disintegrated in time and space. The Golden Bail is embedded in the device which drives your ship. It will be reconstituted in the Key. Our Masters shall be released. The Universal Readjustment will continue.”
Zaphod nodded again.
“What are you talking about?” he said.
A slightly pained expression seemed to cross the robot’s totally expressionless face. He seemed to be finding the conversation depressing.
“Obliteration,” it said. “We seek the Key,” it repeated. “We already have the Wooden Pillar, the