The Lost Chapters Of HITCHHIKER'S Guide To The Galaxy Part 7

Trillian, Bolo and Fenchurch followed Marvin into the storeroom.

"Should we take any of this stuff?" Asked Bolo.

"It's rubbish," said Marvin. "All of it. You're supposed to stand in the centre of the room and say 'Emases Nepo'." A doorway appeared out of nowhere in the wall, revealing a tunnel.

"That's not logical, is it?" Exclaimed Trillian.

"You should try reading the Sirius Cybernetics corporate policy," said Marvin as grinding gears propelled him through the doorway.

"So the men have gone the wrong way?" Said Fenchurch.

"They can get through another way but that is so depressingly boring and stupid," said Marvin. "Most people go that way. I tried to warn them but they wouldn't listen. n.o.body listens to me."

"We listen to you," said Bolo. She had studied mechanical stress and depression briefly as part of an engineering degree she kept very quiet about. "We will follow you as well and do what you want...." She looked at the others. "Because we respect you and your opinions. Trillian had told me of your achievements and you deserve recognition."

Marvin stopped walking. He also stopped the calculation of retrospective a.n.a.lytical data on predictive inverted ancestry of an ant he had stepped on one million, two hundred and thirty one thousand and two years ago (a task he had undertaken to relieve the boredom before taking the next step). He concentrated his considerable mental abilities on Bolo's words and however hard he tried, he could find no trace of sarcasm or insincerity. He ran it through one more time. The girls waited.

"Who am I?" He said.

"Marvin," said Trillian, confused.

"That's all the recognition I've ever received and all I deserve," said Marvin and trundled off down the tunnel.

"Worth a shot," said Bolo.

"Nice effort," said Trillian. "I thought you had him for a second." They chased after Marvin.

"This next room is one of the programming rooms, " said Marvin. "I need to interface with the initiative test computer to find out where the others are. Don't get into too much trouble."

The room they entered wasn't like an aircraft hanger. Aircraft hangers had a cosy, intimate feel compared with this room. Thousands of desks filled the room in perfect symmetry and behind every desk sat a programmer, each busily keying into a terminal built into the desk. The ergonomics of the room were appalling due to the fact that the recently formed Department of Ergonomic Consideration had to be disbanded after a week because the cleaners wanted their broom closet back.

The perfect symmetry was broken by one programmer who stood up as he saw Marvin go into the little robot's room. The programmer waved at the three girls and they made their way through the desks until they finally arrived at the desk of Percival Unha.

"I'm Percival Unha," he announced, picking up a nameplate from his desk bearing the inscription 'UNHA P.' . "See? Do you know that robot, the one that went in the interface room?"

"Yes, he's with us," said Trillian. Percival's voice sounded vaguely familiar to her.

"What's his name?" Asked Percival. His voice had all the tonal qualities of a bored foghorn.

"That's the second time we've been asked that," said Bolo. "It's Marvin."

"That's all the recognition he deserves," moaned Percival. The girls looked at each other, stunned. "I programmed that robot. I built part of my personality into it. Is he a jolly robot?"

"Not really," said Fenchurch. "Not much of the time. Well, to be perfectly honest, never really."

"Not surprising," said Percival. "I'm not what you would call a bubbly person myself. I was having a rough time when I was programming it. I had one of the first s.e.x cybernauts, you see. My android replica was playing up again, it's no joke. I was terribly, I don't know, p.i.s.sed off with the whole thing. My heart wasn't in it."

"That explains a lot," said Trillian. "Your robot has taken depression to new depths."

"I would really like to meet him," said Percival. "I never met him after initial programming, he was whisked away to serve on a new ship, the Heart of Gold."

"I'll get him for you," said Bolo, running off to the interface room.

"I never thought I'd get this opportunity," said Percival. "We don't get to see any finished products. It was a shame I wasn't a bit more cheerful when I did Marvin, but I only recall being cheerful once, and I didn't waste that on a stupid robot."

Bolo brought Marvin through the desks to Percival.

"Marvin, this is your creator, Percival Unha," said Trillian, proudly.

"Daddy?" Stuttered Marvin.

"Marvin," said Percival.

Marvin moved forward and embraced Percival. Tears welled up in everyone's eyes. Marvin gripped Percival tighter as Percival sobbed on his shoulder. It may have been a trick of the light, but Trillian was sure she saw a smile on Marvin's face, just before he sent fifty thousand volts through Percival.

"That'll teach him to f.u.c.k around playing G.o.d," said Marvin as he trundled through the smouldering mess that was once Percival.

CHAPTER 57.

Zaphod, Ford and Arthur had now reached the final room of the initiative test. They had just carefully circ.u.mnavigated a large pool of aggressive looking slime, which was perfectly harmless apart from the smell. If they had touched any part of the slime, the smell would have stayed with them for life. As most potential employees couldn't avoid the slime, the Marketing Division came up with the slogan 'You may think our products stink, but you should meet our employees' as a possible replacement for 'Share and enjoy'.

The only reasons Zaphod, Ford and Arthur had reached this final room were luck, bad taste and the fact that the initiative test wasn't designed for three people who spent more time arguing about what to do than doing anything at all. Most potential hazards got so bored waiting, they went off to pester someone else.

The final room contained two exit doors, a large screen and three weary hitchhikers.

"So this is it," said Arthur. "We're going to get out of here."

"I told you I'd get you through," said Zaphod.

"When?" Asked Ford.

"Earlier," said Zaphod. "Didn't I? Well if I didn't, I sure meant to. You should have known you could rely on me."

"Rely on you!" Exclaimed Arthur. "That's a bit of a contradiction in terms. It's like saying 'Flat Pack Easy a.s.sembly' or 'Military Intelligence'."

"Haven't I given you guidance?" Demanded Zaphod.

"Guidance?" Yelled Ford. "Climbing up the wall screaming 'Slime, slime, don't let it touch me' is not my idea of guidance."

"Hey! Get offa my case," said Zaphod. "Wasn't it me who discovered the gravity walls around the slime?"

"I didn't like the look of that stuff," said Arthur. "It reminded me of stuff on Earth that was put on hamburgers disguised as relish."

"And I really relish the thought of getting outta here guys," whined Zaphod. "So can we please get a move on?"

As Zaphod spoke, the large screen lit up. An old, balding head wearing gla.s.ses appeared. He had the look of a traffic warden with piles. Totally humourless was a very generous description of the look on his face.

"You have reached the final room of the initiative test," began the Face. "And your final test. You must decide which of these two doors to pa.s.s through, one being an exit door to the offices and the other is a true exit door off this mortal coil in a horrible fashion. I can help you by answering one question about the doors but be warned, I can only say one true sentence and the rest lies or one false sentence and the rest the truth."

"Terrific," sighed Ford. The Face remained motionless.

"Well?" Asked Zaphod. "Let's have some help, oh happy hologram."

"I am an incredible liar." Stated the Face.

"Which door is safe?" Asked Arthur.

"The left door is perfectly safe," said the Face.

"If he said he was a liar then that was the truth, so the right door must be safe," said Arthur, heading towards the door.

"Wait!" Yelled Ford. "I'm not sure. If he lied about being a liar, then the left door is perfectly safe. Let's make an effort to get our heads around this concept."

"Listen, all I want to get my heads around is a stiff drink, preferably served by a wench with obscene tendencies," said Zaphod. "Let Arthur go."

"What?" Shouted Arthur. "I could die!"

"You could save the life of the editor of the Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy, man!" Retorted Zaphod. "Get your priorities right. Sheesh, your grip of universal importance is as good as my grip on Eccentrica Gallumbits' bits at this very moment in time. We could both do with taking things in hand a bit more."

"Look, petty in-fighting won't help us," said Ford, trying to calm things down.

"Why not?" Said Arthur. "That's all this poor excuse for an intergalactic waste disposal unit in reverse seems to show any apt.i.tude for."

"Listen pal, if we're talking about apt.i.tude, let me get a banana and see if you can manage to peel it without scratching your a.r.s.e thinking about it," snarled Zaphod.

"Will you two just give it a rest," pleaded Ford. "Let's just devote our energy to solving this problem. Now let's think."

CHAPTER 58.

Marvin, Trillian, Fenchurch and Bolo had finally reached the main computer room. An imposing oak door barred the way.

"Only executives are allowed to enter," said Marvin. "I'll go into a interface room to get us in."

"How?" Asked Bolo.

"Because he's got the brain the size of a planet," said Trillian. "Beat you to it, Marvin."

"I wasn't going to say it anyway," said Marvin. "I was going to say that the executives are as stupid as all other life forms. A digital watch could get in without too much trouble." He went into the interface room.

"He seemed to cheer up a bit after he killed Percival," remarked Fenchurch.

"Remember he's in a new body," said Trillian. "He's probably found a pleasure circuit and doesn't know what to do with it."

They all stared at the door. Nothing happened. Well that wasn't strictly true. The high level of static acid given off by Marvin's att.i.tude was eating its way into the door. The acid gnawed and corroded the helpless door. However, as this was invisible to the naked or even half dressed eye and total corrosion would take 1.347 million years (thirty years short of redecoration which would reverse the process), it would be fair to say that as far as Fenchurch, Bolo and Trillian were concerned, nothing happened. Trillian went over to the interface room, opened the door and was shocked. A female android was spreadeagled on a table, with Marvin perched precariously on top.

"Do you mind?" Said Marvin.

Trillian muttered a very apologetic apology and shut the door. She was tempted to open the door again just to prove to herself that reality hadn't gone AWOL. After a minute Marvin opened the door and shut it behind him.

"Haven't you ever seen a robot interfacing before?" Asked Marvin.

Trillian mouth was stuck in neutral but she managed to gesture a negative response.

"I'd like to tell you about the bugs and the bytes and explain the difference between male and female interface plugs," said Marvin. "But it's dead boring."

"The door's open!" Said Fenchurch.

"And life is dull," said Marvin. "Why state the obvious?"

What was not obvious to most life forms and could be considered one of the Universes best kept secrets is the fact that robots and computers can enjoy a healthy s.e.x life. Computers have often been connected together in the light of the improved performance. This is not due to shared resources, the truth of the matter being that they perform better because they are more relaxed and satisfied after a good bout of interfacing. Robots have often wondered why it's never been taken up in life form work places in place of say, a coffee break. Considering the poor quality of coffee available in such workplaces, this has always been a mystery. Still, the robots don't let on as it give them another reason to sn.i.g.g.e.r. As with most functions performed by computers and robots, a complete set of jargon words have been devised to confuse the layman. A basic translation list now follows (all those of a nervous or prudish disposition, or those who just want to get on with the story, should skip this section).

Interface - s.e.x (The thought of a man to machine interface is repulsive to most devices) Terminals - b.r.e.a.s.t.s Twin floppy disks - b.r.e.a.s.t.s Joystick - p.e.n.i.s (It is often queried why there are two names for b.r.e.a.s.t.s and only one for p.e.n.i.s, but only by very stupid people) User defined function - s.e.xual act (usually kinky) Stand alone - w.a.n.ker Cl.u.s.ter - Group s.e.x Replication - Conception Firewall - Contraception Handshaking - Foreplay Baud rate - Level of boredom Cursor device - Unwilling partner SCSI - Easy lay USB - Mythological easy lay PEEK - Voyeurism POKE - s.e.xually inquisitive GOSUB - Oral s.e.x INPUT - Down to business LOAD - Really down to business Full duplex - Frantic lovemaking Syntax error - Premature e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n Hyperbolic function - Male o.r.g.a.s.m Graphic display - Female o.r.g.a.s.m 'The Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy is proud to offer a confidential counselling service for all s.e.xually frustrated or troubled devices. Interface with us and half your problems are solved.'

Arthur, Zaphod and Ford's problem wasn't solved.

"Look, if the truth was that he wasn't a liar, then he didn't lie about the left door being safe," said Ford.

"Uh?" Was all Zaphod could offer. He was much more content trying to vandalise the screen.

"No, no," argued Arthur. "The right door is right, right, because the liar bit wasn't a lie was it!"

Just then, what looked like Trillian walked in.

"Hey, Babe, whatcha doing here," smoothed Zaphod. He had spent years working on his smoothing and had d.a.m.n near perfected it.

"I'm not your Babe', thank you very much. My name is Cis," said Cis. "I messed up in one of the rooms and ended up looking like this. It's all over."

"Shee," said Zaphod. "I'll sue the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds for copyright on my woman as well."

"Well, Cis, it isn't over," said Ford. "If you go through the right door, you will be changed back to what you were before."

"Great," said Cis. He walked through the door and was disintegrated.

"Ford!" Protested Arthur.