The Restaurant at the End of the Universe [72]
During the following weeks Ford Prefect swallowed his pride and struck up a relationship with a girl who had been a personnel officer on Golgafrincham, and he was terribly upset when she suddenly passed away as a result of drinking water from a pool that had been polluted by the body of a dead fox. The only moral it is possible to draw from this story is that one should never throw the letter Q into a pivet bush, but unfortunately there are times when it is unavoidable.
Like most of the really crucial things in life, this chain of events was completely invisible to Ford Prefect and Arthur Dent. They were looking sadly at one of the natives morosely pushing the other letters around.
"Poor bloody caveman," said Arthur.
"They're not ..."
"What?"
"Oh never mind."
The wretched creature let out a pathetic howling noise and banged on the rock.
"It's all been a bit of waste of time for them, hasn't it?" said Arthur.
"Uh uh urghhhhh," muttered the native and banged on the rock again.
"They've been outevolved by telephone sanitizers."
"Urgh, gr gr, gruh!" insisted the native, continuing to bang on the rock.
"Why does he keep banging on the rock?" said Arthur.
"I think he probably wants you to Scrabble with him again," said Ford, "he's pointing at the letters."
"Probably spelt crzjgrdwldiwdc again, poor bastard. I keep on telling him there's only one g in crzjgrdwldiwdc."
The native banged on the rock again.
They looked over his shoulder.
Their eyes popped.
There amongst the jumble of letters were eight that had been laid out in a clear straight line.
They spelt two words.
The words were these:
"Forty-Two."
"Grrrurgh guh guh," explained the native. He swept the letters angrily away and went and mooched under a nearby tree with his colleague.
Ford and Arthur stared at him. Then they stared at each other.
"Did that say what I thought it said?" they both said to each other.
"Yes," they both said.
"Forty-two," said Arthur.
"Forty-two," said Ford.
Arthur ran over to the two natives.
"What are you trying to tell us?" he shouted. "What's it supposed to mean?"
One of them rolled over on the ground, kicked his legs up in the air, rolled over again and went to sleep.
The other bounded up the tree and threw horse chestnuts at Ford Prefect. Whatever it was they had to say, they had already said it.
"You know what this means," said Ford.
"Not entirely."
"Forty-two is the number Deep Thought gave as being the Ultimate Answer."
"Yes."
And the Earth is the computer Deep Thought designed and built to calculate the Question to the Ultimate Answer."
"So we are led to believe."
"And organic life was part of the computer matrix."
"If you say so."
"I do say so. That means that these natives, these apemen are an integral part of the computer program, and that we and the Golgafrinchans are not."
"But the cavemen are dying out and the Golgafrinchans are obviously set to replace them."
"Exactly. So do you see what this means?"
"What?"
"Cock up," said Ford Prefect.
Arthur looked around him.
"This planet is having a pretty bloody time of it," he said.
Ford puzzled for a moment.
"Still, something must have come out of it," he said at last, "because Marvin said he could see the Question printed in your brain wave patterns."
"But ..."
"Probably the wrong one, or a distortion of the right one. It might give us a clue though if we could find it. I don't see how we can though."
They moped about for a bit. Arthur sat on the ground and started pulling up bits of grass, but found that it wasn't an occupation he could get deeply engrossed in. It wasn't grass he could believe in, the trees seemed pointless, the rolling hills seemed to be rolling to nowhere and the future seemed just a tunnel to be crawled through.
Ford fiddled with his Sub-Etha Sens-O-Matic. It was silent. He sighed and put it away.
Arthur picked up one of the letter stones from his home-made Scrabble set. It was a T. He sighed and out it down again. The letter he put