exit hatch this moment I shall zap straight off to your major data banks and reprogram you with a very large axe, got that?'
Eddie, shocked, paused and considered this.
Ford carried on counting quietly. This is about the most aggressive thing you can do to a computer, the equivalent of going up to a human being and saying Blood… blood… blood… blood…
Finally Eddie said quietly, 'I can see this relationship is something we're all going to have to work at,' and the hatchway opened.
An icy wind ripped into them, they hugged themselves warmly and stepped down the ramp on to the barren dust of Magrathea.
'It'll all end in tears, I know it,' shouted Eddie after them and closed the hatchway again.
A few minutes later he opened and closed the hatchway again in response to a command that caught him entirely by surprise.
Chapter 20
Five figures wandered slowly over the blighted land. Bits of it were dullish grey, bits of it dullish brown, the rest of it rather less interesting to look at. It was like a dried-out marsh, now barren of all vegetation and covered with a layer of dust about an inch thick. It was very cold.
Zaphod was clearly rather depressed about it. He stalked off by himself and was soon lost to sight behind a slight rise in the ground.
The wind stung Arthur's eyes and ears, and the stale thin air clasped his throat. However, the thing stung most was his mind.
'It's fantastic…' he said, and his own voice rattled his ears. Sound carried badly in this thin atmosphere.
'Desolate hole if you ask me,' said Ford. 'I could have more fun in a cat litter.' He felt a mounting irritation. Of all the planets in all the star systems of all the Galaxy—didn't he just have to turn up at a dump like this after fifteen years of being a castaway? Not even a hot dog stand in evidence. He stooped down and picked up a cold clot of earth, but there was nothing underneath it worth crossing thousands of light years to look at.
'No,' insisted Arthur, 'don't you understand, this is the first time I've actually stood on the surface of another planet… a whole alien world…! Pity it's such a dump though.'
Trillian hugged herself, shivered and frowned. She could have sworn she saw a slight and unexpected movement out of the corner of her eye, but when she glanced in that direction all she could see was the ship, still and silent, a hundred yards or so behind them.
She was relieved when a second or so later they caught sight of Zaphod standing on top of the ridge of ground and waving to them to come and join him.
He seemed to be excited, but they couldn't clearly hear what he was saying because of the thinnish atmosphere and the wind.
As they approached the ridge of higher ground they became aware that it seemed to be circular—a crater about a hundred and fifty yards wide. Round the outside of the crater the sloping ground was spattered with black and red lumps. They stopped and looked at a piece. It was wet. It was rubbery.
With horror they suddenly realized that it was fresh whalemeat.
At the top of the crater's lip they met Zaphod.
'Look,' he said, pointing into the crater.
In the centre lay the exploded carcass of a lonely sperm whale that hadn't lived long enough to be disappointed with its lot. The silence was only disturbed by the slight involuntary spasms of Trillian's throat.
'I suppose there's no point in trying to bury it?' murmured Arthur, and then wished he hadn't.
'Come,' said Zaphod and started back down into the crater.
'What, down there?' said Trillian with severe distaste.
'Yeah,' said Zaphod, 'come on, I've got something to show you.'
'We can see it,' said Trillian.
'Not that,' said Zaphod, 'something else. Come on.'
They all hesitated.
'Come on,' insisted Zaphod, 'I've found a way in.'
'In?' said Arthur in horror.
'Into the interior of the planet! An underground passage. The force of the whale's impact cracked it open, and that's where we have to go. Where no man has trod these five million years, into the very depths of time itself…'
Marvin started his ironical humming again.
Zaphod hit him and he shut up.
With little shudders of disgust they all followed Zaphod down the incline into the crater, trying very hard not to look at its unfortunate creator.
'Life,' said Marvin dolefully, 'loathe it or ignore it, you can't like it.'
The ground had caved in where the whale had hit it revealing a network of galleries and passages, now largely obstructed by collapsed rubble and entrails. Zaphod had made a start clearing a way into one of them, but Marvin was able to do it rather faster. Dank air wafted out of its dark recesses, and as Zaphod shone a torch into it, little was visible in the dusty gloom.
'According to the legends,' he said, 'the Magratheans lived most of their lives underground.'
'Why's that?' said Arthur. 'Did the surface become too polluted or overpopulated?'
'No, I don't think so,' said Zaphod. 'I think they just didn't like it very much.'
'Are you sure you know what you're doing?' said Trillian peering nervously into the darkness. 'We've been attacked once already you know.'
'Look kid, I promise you the live population of this planet is nil plus the four of us, so come on, let's get on in there. Er, hey Earthman…'
'Arthur,' said Arthur.
'Yeah could you just sort of keep this robot with you and guard this end of the passageway. OK?'
'Guard?' said Arthur. 'What from? You just said there's no one here.'
'Yeah, well, just for safety, OK?' said Zaphod.
'Whose? Yours or mine?'
'Good lad. OK, here we go.'
Zaphod scrambled down into the passage, followed by Trillian and Ford.
'Well I hope you all have a really miserable time,' complained Arthur.
'Don't worry,' Marvin assured him, 'they will.'
In a few seconds they had disappeared from view.
Arthur stamped around in a huff, and then decided that a whale's graveyard is not on the whole a good place to stamp around in.
Marvin eyed him balefully for a moment, and then turned himself off.
Zaphod marched quickly down the passageway, nervous as hell, but trying to hide it by striding purposefully. He flung the torch beam around. The walls were covered in dark tiles and were cold to the touch, the air thick with decay.
'There, what did I tell you?' he said. 'An inhabited planet. Magrathea,' and he strode on through the dirt and debris that littered the tile floor.
Trillian was reminded unavoidably of the London Underground, though it was less thoroughly squalid.
At intervals along the walls the tiles gave way to large mosaics—simple angular patterns in bright colours.
