The Restaurant at the End of the Universe - Douglas Adams [39]
“But we just left there,” protested Zaphod. “We left there and came to the Restaurant at the End of the Universe.”
“Yes, sir,” said the waiter, feeling that he was now into the home stretch and running well, “the one was constructed on the ruins of the other.”
“Oh,” said Arthur brightly, “you mean we’ve traveled in time but not in space.”
“Listen, you semievolved simian,” cut in Zaphod, “go climb a tree will you?”
Arthur bristled.
“Go bang your heads together four-eyes,” he advised Zaphod.
“No, no,” the waiter said to Zaphod, “your monkey has got it right, sir.”
Arthur stuttered in fury and said nothing apposite, or indeed coherent.
“You jumped forward… I believe five hundred and seventy-six thousand million years while staying in exactly the same place,” explained the waiter. He smiled. He had a wonderful feeling that he had finally won through against what had seemed to be insuperable odds.
“That’s it!” said Zaphod. “I got it. I told the computer to send us to the nearest place to eat, that’s exactly what it did. Give or take five hundred and seventy-six thousand million years or whatever, we never moved. Neat.”
They all agreed this was very neat.
“But who,” said Zaphod, “is the cat on the phone?”
“Whatever happened to Marvin?” said Trillian.
Zaphod clapped his hands to his heads.
“The Paranoid Android! I left him moping about on Frogstar World B.”
“When was this?”
“Well, er, five hundred and seventy-six thousand million years ago I suppose,” said Zaphod. “Hey, er, hand me the raprod, Plate Captain.”
The little waiter’s eyebrows wandered about his forehead in confusion.
“I beg your pardon, sir?” he said.
“The phone, waiter,” said Zaphod, grabbing it off him. “Shee, you guys are so unhip it’s a wonder your bums don’t fall off.”
“Indeed, sir.”
“Hey, Marvin, is that you?” said Zaphod into the phone. “How you doing, kid?”
There was a long pause before a thin low voice came up the line.
“I think you ought to know I’m feeling very depressed,” it said.
Zaphod cupped his hand over the phone.
“It’s Marvin,” he said.
“Hey, Marvin,” he said into the phone again, “we’re having a great time. Food, wine, a little personal abuse and the Universe going foom. Where can we find you?”
Again the pause.
“You don’t have to pretend to be interested in me you know,” said Marvin at last. “I know perfectly well I’m only a menial robot.”
“Okay, okay,” said Zaphod, “but where are you?”
“ ‘Reverse primary thrust, Marvin,’ that’s what they say to me, ‘open airlock number three, Marvin. Marvin, can you pick up that piece of paper?’ Can I pick up that piece of paper! Here I am, brain the size of a planet and they ask me to…”
“Yeah, yeah,” sympathized Zaphod hardly at all.
“But I’m quite used to being humiliated,” droned Marvin, “I can even go and stick my head in a bucket of water if you like. Would you like me to go and stick my head in a bucket of water? I’ve got one ready. Wait a minute.”
“Er, hey, Marvin…” interrupted Zaphod, but it was too late. Sad little clunks and gurgles came up the line.
“What’s he saying?” asked Trillian.
“Nothing,” said Zaphod, “he just phoned to wash his head at us.”
“There,” said Marvin, coming back on the line and bubbling a bit, “I hope that gave satisfaction….”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Zaphod, “now will you please tell us where you are?”
“I’m in the parking lot,” said Marvin.
“The parking lot?” said Zaphod. “What are you doing there?”
“Parking cars, what else does one do in a parking lot?”
“Okay, hang in there, we’ll be right down.”
In one movement, Zaphod leaped to his feet, threw down the phone and wrote “Hotblack Desiato” on the bill.
“Come on, guys,” he said, “Marvin’s in the parking lot. Let’s get on down.”
“What’s he doing in the parking lot?” asked Arthur.
“Parking cars, what else? Dum dum.”
“But what about the End of the Universe? We’ll miss the big moment.”
“I’ve seen it. It’s rubbish,” said Zaphod, “nothing but a gnab gib.”
“A what?”
“Opposite of a big bang. Come on, let’s get zappy.”
Few of the other diners paid them any attention as