da.solongandthanksforallthefish-第13部分

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ng　number　of　kitchen　sinks　were　piled　in　a　corner。　There　was　also；　Arthur　was　momentarily　alarmed　to　see；　a　pram；　but　it　was　very　old　and　unplicatedly　full　of　books。
　　The　floor　was　old　stained　concrete；　excitingly　cracked。　And　this　was　the　measure　of　Arthur's　mood　as　he　stared　up　the　rickety　wooden　steps　in　the　far　corner。　Even　a　cracked　concrete　floor　seemed　to　him　an　almost　unbearably　sensual　thing。
　　…　An　architect　friend　of　mine　keeps　on　telling　me　how　he　can　do　wonderful　things　with　this　place；　…　said　Fenchurch　chattily　as　Arthur　emerged　through　the　floor。　…　He　keeps　on　ing　round；　standing　in　stunned　amazement　muttering　about　space　and　objects　and　events　and　marvellous　qualities　of　light；　then　says　he　needs　a　pencil　and　disappears　for　weeks。　Wonderful　things　have；　therefore；　so　far　failed　to　happen　to　it。
　　In　fact；　thought　Arthur　as　he　looked　about；　the　upper　room　was　at　least　reasonably　wonderful　anyway。　It　was　simply　decorated；　furnished　with　things　made　out　of　cushions　and　also　a　stereo　set　with　speakers　which　would　have　impressed　the　guys　who　put　up　Stonehenge。
　　There　were　flowers　which　were　pale　and　pictures　which　were　interesting。
　　There　was　a　sort　of　gallery　structure　in　the　roof　space　which　held　a　bed　and　also　a　bathroom　which；　Fenchurch　explained；　you　could　actually　swing　a　cat　in。
　　…　But；　…　she　added；　…　only　if　it　was　a　reasonably　patient　cat　and　didn't　mind　a　few　nasty　cracks　about　the　head。　So。　here　you　are。
　　…　Yes。
　　They　looked　at　each　other　for　a　moment。
　　The　moment　became　a　longer　moment；　and　suddenly　it　was　a　very　long　moment；　so　long　one　could　hardly　tell　where　all　the　time　was　ing　from。
　　For　Arthur；　who　could　usually　contrive　to　feel　self…conscious　if　left　alone　for　long　enough　with　a　Swiss　Cheese　plant；　the　moment　was　one　of　sustained　revelation。　He　felt　on　the　sudden　like　a　cramped　and　zoo…born　animal　who　awakes　one　morning　to　find　the　door　to　his　cage　hanging　quietly　open　and　the　savannah　stretching　grey　and　pink　to　the　distant　rising　sun；　while　all　around　new　sounds　are　waking。
　　He　wondered　what　the　new　sounds　were　as　he　gazed　at　her　openly　wondering　face　and　her　eyes　that　smiled　with　a　shared　surprise。
　　He　hadn't　realized　that　life　speaks　with　a　voice　to　you；　a　voice　that　brings　you　answers　to　the　questions　you　continually　ask　of　it；　had　never　consciously　detected　it　or　recognized　its　tones　till　it　now　said　something　it　had　never　said　to　him　before；　which　was　〃Yes〃。
　　Fenchurch　dropped　her　eyes　away　at　last；　with　a　tiny　shake　of　her　head。
　　…　I　know；　…　she　said。　…　I　shall　have　to　remember；　…　she　added；　…　that　you　are　the　sort　of　person　who　cannot　hold　on　to　a　simple　piece　of　paper　for　two　minutes　without　winning　a　raffle　with　it。
　　She　turned　away。
　　…　Let's　go　for　a　walk；　…　she　said　quickly。　…　Hyde　Park。　I'll　change　into　something　less　suitable。
　　She　was　dressed　in　a　rather　severe　dark　dress；　not　a　particularly　shapely　one；　and　it　didn't　really　suit　her。
　　…　I　wear　it　specially　for　my　'cello　teacher；　…　she　said。　…　He's　a　nice　boy；　but　I　sometimes　think　all　that　bowing　gets　him　a　bit　excited。　I'll　be　down　in　a　moment。
　　She　ran　lightly　up　the　steps　to　the　gallery　above；　and　called　down：
　　…　Put　the　bottle　in　the　fridge　for　later。
　　He　noticed　as　he　slipped　the　champagne　bottle　into　the　door　that　it　had　an　identical　twin　to　sit　next　to。
　　He　walked　over　to　the　window　and　looked　out。　He　turned　and　started　to　look　at　her　records。　From　above　he　heard　the　rustle　of　her　dress　fall　to　the　ground。　He　talked　to　himself　about　the　sort　of　person　he　was。　He　told　himself　very　firmly　that　for　this　moment　at　least　he　would　keep　his　eyes　very　firmly　and　steadfastly　locked　on　to　the　spines　of　her　records；　read　the　titles；　nod　appreciatively；　count　the　blasted　things　if　he　had　to。　He　would　keep　his　head　down。
　　This　he　pletely；　utterly　and　abjectly　failed　to　do。
　　She　was　staring　down　at　him　with　such　intensity　that　she　seemed　hardly　to　notice　that　he　was　looking　up　at　her。　Then　suddenly　she　shook　her　head；　dropped　the　light　sundress　over　herself　and　disappeared　quickly　into　the　bathroom。
　　She　emerged　a　moment　later；　all　smiles　and　with　a　sunhat　and　came　tripping　down　the　steps　with　extraordinary　lightness。　It　was　a　strange　kind　of　dancing　motion　she　had。　She　saw　that　he　noticed　it　and　put　her　head　slightly　on　one　side。
　　…　Like　it？　…　she　said。
　　…　You　look　gorgeous；　…　he　said　simply；　because　she　did。
　　…　Hmmmm；　…　she　said；　as　if　he　hadn't　really　answered　her　question。
　　She　closed　the　upstairs　front　door　which　had　stood　open　all　this　time；　and　looked　around　the　little　room　to　see　that　it　was　all　in　a　fit　state　to　be　left　on　its　own　for　a　while。　Arthur's　eyes　followed　hers　around；　and　while　he　was　looking　in　the　other　direction　she　slipped　something　out　of　a　drawer　and　into　the　canvas　bag　she　was　carrying。
　　Arthur　looked　back　at　her。
　　…　Ready？
　　…　Did　you　know；　…　she　said　with　a　slightly　puzzled　smile；　…　that　there's　something　wrong　with　me？
　　Her　directness　caught　Arthur　unprepared。
　　…　Well；　…　he　said；　…　I'd　heard　some　vague　sort　of。。。
　　…　I　wonder　how　much　you　do　know　about　me；　…　she　said。　…　I　you　heard　it　from　where　I　think　you　heard　then　that's　not　it。　Russell　just　sort　of　makes　stuff　up；　because　he　can't　deal　with　what　it　really　is。
　　A　pang　of　worry　went　through　Arthur。
　　…　Then　what　is　it？　…　he　said。　…　Can　you　tell　me？
　　…　Don't　worry；　…　she　said；　…　it's　nothing　bad　at　all。　Just　unusual。　Very　very　unusual。
　　She　touched　his　hand；　and　then　leant　forward　and　kissed　him　briefly。
　　…　I　shall　be　very　interested　to　know；　…　she　said；　…　if　you　manage　to　work　out　what　it　is　this　evening。
　　Arthur　felt　that　if　someone　tapped　him　at　that　point　he　would　have　chimed；　like　the　deep　sustained　rolling　chime　his　grey　fishbowl　made　when　he　flicked　it　with　his　thumbnail。
　　
　　
　　　Chapter　19
　　
　　Ford　Prefect　was　irritated　to　be　continually　wakened　by　the　sound　of　gunfire。
　　He　slid　himself　out　of　the　maintenance　hatchway　which　he　had　fashioned　into　a　bunk　for　himself　by　disabling　some　of　the　noisier　machinery　in　his　vicinity　and　padding　it　with　towels。　He　slung　himself　down　the　access　ladder　and　prowled　the　corridors　moodily。
　　They　were　claustrophobic　and　ill…lit；　and　what　light　there　was　was　continually　flickering　and　dimming　as　power　surged　this　way　and　that　through　the　ship；　causing　heavy　vibrations　and　rasping　humming　noises。
　　That　wasn't　it；　though。
　　He　paused　and　leaned　back　against　the　wall　as　something　that　looked　like　a　small　silver　power　drill　flew　past　him　down　the　dim　corridor　with　a　nasty　searing　screech。
　　That　wasn't　it　either。
　　He　clambered　listlessly　through　a　bulkhead　door　and　found　himself　in　a　larger　corridor；　though　still　ill…lit。
　　The　ship　lurched。　It　had　been　doing　this　a　fair　bit；　but　this　was　heavier。　A　small　platoon　of　robots　went　by　making　a　terrible　clattering。
　　Still　not　it；　though。
　　Acrid　smoke　was　drifting　up　from　one　end　of　the　corridor；　so　he　walked　along　it　in　the　other　direction。
　　He　passed　a　series　of　observation　monitors　let　into　the　walls　behind　plates　of　toughened　but　still　badly　scratched　perspex。
　　One　of　them　showed　some　horrible　green　scaly　reptilian　figure　ranting　and　raving　about　the　Single　Transferable　Vote　system。　It　was　hard　to　tell　whether　he　was　for　or　against　it；　but　he　clearly　felt　very　strongly　about　it。　Ford　turned　the　sound　down。
　　That　wasn't　it；　though。
　　He　passed　another　monitor。　It　was　showing　a　mercial　for　some　brand　of　toothpaste　that　would　apparently　make　you　feel　free　if　you　used　it。　There　was　nasty　blaring　music　with　it　too；　but　that　wasn't　it。
　　He　came　upon　another；　much　larger　three…dimensional　screen　that　was　monitoring　the　outside　of　the　vast　silver　Xaxisian　ship。
　　As　he　watched；　a　thousand　horribly　beweaponed　Zirzla　robot　starcruisers　came　searing　round　the　dark　shadow　of　a　moon；　silhouetted　against　the　blinding　disc　of　the　star　Xaxis；　and　the　ship　simultaneously　unleashed　a　vicious　blaze　of　hideously　inprehensible　forces　from　all　its　orifices　against　them。
　　That　was　it。
　　Ford　shook　his　head　irritably　and　rubbed　his　eyes。　He　slumped　on　the　wrecked　body　of　a　dull　silver　robot　which　clearly　had　been　burning　earlier　on；　but　had　now　cooled　down　enough　to　sit　on。
　　He　yawned　and　dug　his　copy　of　The　Hitch　Hiker's　Guide　to　the　Galaxy　out　of　his　satchel。　He　activated　the　screen；　and　flicked　idly　through　some　level　three　entries　and　some　level　four　entries。　He　was　looking　for　some　good　insomnia　cures。　He　found　Rest；　which　was　what　he　reckoned　he　needed。　He　found　Rest　and　Recuperation　and　was　about　to　pass　on　when　he　suddenly　had　a　better　idea。　He　looked　up　at　the　monitor　screen。　The　battle　was　raging　more　fiercely　every　second　and　the　noise　was　appalling。　The　ship　juddered；　screamed；　and　lurched　as　each　new　bolt　of　stunning　energy　was　delivered　or　received。
　　He　looked　back　down　at　the　Guide　again　and　flipped　through　a　few　likely　locations。　He　suddenly　laughed；　and　then　rummaged　in　his　satchel　again。
　　He　pulled　out　a　small　memory　dump　module；　wiped　off　the　fluff　and　biscuit　crumbs；　and　plugged　it　into　an　interface　on　the　back　of　the　Guide。
　　When　all　the　information　that　he　could　think　was　relevant　had　been　dumped　into　the　module；　he　unplugged　it　again；　tossed　it　lightly　in　the　palm　of　his　hand；　put　the　Guide　away　in　his　satchel；　smirked；　and　went　in　search　of　the　ship's　puter　data　banks。
　　
　　
　　　Chapter　20
　　
　　…　The　purpose　of　having　the　sun　go　low　in　the　evenings；　in　the　summer；　especially　in　parks；　…　said　the　voice　earnestly；　…　is　to　make　girl's　breasts　bob　up　and　down　more　clearly　to　the　eye。　I　am　convinced　that　this　is　the　case。
　　Arthur　and　Fenchurch　giggled　about　this　to　each　other　as　they　passed。　She　hugged　him　more　tightly　for　a　moment。
　　…　And　I　am　certain；　…　said　the　frizzy　ginger…haired　youth　with　the　long　thin　nose　who　was　epostulating　from　his　deckchair　by　the　side　of　the　Serpentine；　…　that　if　one　worked　the　argument　through；　one　would　find　that　it　flowed　with　perfect　naturalness　and　logic　from　everything；　…　he　insisted　to　his　thin　dark…haired　panion　who　was　slumped　in　the　next　door　deckchair　feeling　dejected　about　his　spots；