Young Zaphod Plays It Safe.txt

(23 KB) Pobierz
Young Zaphod Plays It Safe

Douglas Adams

-------------------------------------------------------
Origin: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Corridor/6068/� http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Corridor/6068/

12/2000 a few minor OCR corrections -- scg

-------------------------------------------------------

Young Zaphod Plays It Safe

A Short Story By Douglas Adams


   A large flying craft moved swiftly across the surface of an
astoundingly beautiful sea. From mid-morning onwards it plied back and
forth in great widening arcs, and at last attracted the attention of the
local islanders, a peaceful, sea-food loving people who gathered on the
beach and squinted up into the blinding sun, trying to see what was
there.
   Any sophisticated knowledgeable person, who had knocked about, seen a
few things, would probably have remarked on how much the craft looked
like a filing cabinet - a large and recently burgled filing cabinet
lying on its back with its drawers in the air and flying.
   The islanders, whose experience was of a different kind, were instead
struck by how little it looked like a lobster.
   They chattered excitedly about its total lack of claws, its stiff
unbendy back, and the fact that it seemed to experience the greatest
difficulty staying on the ground. This last feature seemed particularly
funny to them. They jumped up and down on the spot a lot to demonstrate
to the stupid thing that they themselves found staying on the ground the
easiest thing in the world.
   But soon this entertainment began to pall for them. After all, since
it was perfectly clear to them that the thing was not a lobster, and
since their world was blessed with an abundance of things that were
lobsters (a good half a dozen of which were now marching succulently up
the beach towards them) they saw no reason to waste any more time on the
thing but decided instead to adjourn immediately for a late lobster
lunch.
   At that exact moment the craft stopped suddenly in mid-air then
upended itself and plunged headlong into the ocean with a great crash of
spray which sent them shouting into the trees.
   When they re-emerged, nervously, a few minutes later, all they were
able to see was a smoothly scarred circle of water and a few gulping
bubbles.
   That's odd, they said to each other between mouthfuls of the best
lobster to be had anywhere in the Western Galaxy, that's the second time
that's happened in a year.

   The craft which wasn't a lobster dived direct to a depth of two
hundred feet, and hung there in the heavy blueness, while vast masses of
water swayed about it. High above, where the water was magically clear,
a brilliant formation of fish flashed away. Below, where the light had
difficulty reaching the colour of the water sank to a dark and savage
blue.
   Here, at two hundred feet, the sun streamed feebly. A large, silk
skinned sea-mammal rolled idly by, inspecting the craft with a kind of
half-interest, as if it had half expected to find something of this kind
round about here, and then it slid on up and away towards the rippling
light.
   The craft waited here for a minute or two, taking readings, and then
descended another hundred feet. At this depth it was becoming seriously
dark. After a moment or two the internal lights of the craft shut down,
and in the second or so that passed before the main external beams
suddenly stabbed out, the only visible light came from a small hazily
illuminated pink sign which read The Beeblebrox Salvage and Really Wild
Stuff Corporation.
   The huge beams switched downwards, catching a vast shoal of silver
fish, which swiveled away in silent panic.
   In the dim control room which extended in a broad bow from the
craft's blunt prow, four heads were gathered round a computer display
that was analysing the very, very faint and intermittent signals that
were[?] emanating from deep on the sea bed.
   "That's it," said the owner of one of the heads finally.
   "Can we be quite sure?" said the owner of another of the heads.
   "One hundred per cent positive," replied the owner of the first head.
   "You're one hundred per cent positive that the ship which is crashed
on the bottom of this ocean is the ship which you said you were one
hundred per cent positive could one hundred per cent positively never
crash?" said the owner of the two remaining heads. "Hey," he put up two
of his hands, "I'm only asking."
   The two officials from the Safety and Civil Reassurance
Administration responded to this with a very cold stare, but the man
with the odd, or rather the even number of heads, missed it. He flung
himself back on the pilot couch, opened a couple of beers - one for
himself and the other also for himself - stuck his feet on the console
and said "Hey, baby" through the ultra-glass at a passing fish.
   "Mr. Beeblebrox...," began the shorter and less reassuring of the two
officials in a low voice.
   "Yup?" said Zaphod, rapping a suddenly empty can down on some of the
more sensitive instruments, "you ready to dive? Let's go."
   "Mr. Beeblebrox, let us make one thing perfectly clear..."
   "Yeah let's," said Zaphod, "How about this for a start. Why don't you
just tell me what's really on this ship."
   "We have told you," said the official. "By-products."
   Zaphod exchanged weary glances with himself.
   "By-products," he said. "By-products of what?"
   "Processes." said the official.
   "What processes?"
   "Processes that are perfectly safe."
   "Santa Zarquana Voostra!" exclaimed both of Zaphod's heads in chorus,
"so safe that you have to build a zarking fortress ship to take the
by-products to the nearest black hole and tip them in! Only it doesn't
get there because the pilot does a detour - is this right? - to pick up
some lobster...? OK, so the guy is cool, but... I mean own up, this is
barking time, this is major lunch, this is stool approaching critical
mass, this is... this is... total vocabulary failure!"
   "Shut up!" his right head yelled at his left, "we're flanging!"
   He got a good calming grip on the remaining beer can.
   "Listen guys," he resumed after a moment's peace and contemplation.
The two officials had said nothing. Conversation at this level was not
something to which they felt they could aspire. "I just want to know,"
insisted Zaphod, "what you're getting me into here."
   He stabbed a finger at the intermittent readings trickling over the
computer screen. They meant nothing to him but he didn't like the look
of them at all. They were all squiggly with lots of long numbers and
things.
   "It's breaking up, is that it?" he shouted. "It's got a hold full
epsilonic radiating aorist rods or something that'll fry this whole
space sector for zillions of years back and it's breaking up. Is that
the story? Is that what we're going down to find? Am I going to come out
of that wreck with even more heads?"
   "It cannot possibly be a wreck, Mr. Beeblebrox," insisted the
official, "the ship is guaranteed to be perfectly safe. It cannot
possibly break up"
   "Then why are you so keen to go and look at it?"
   "We like to look at things that are perfectly safe."
   "Freeeooow!"
   "Mr. Beeblebrox," said on official, patiently, "may I remind you that
you have a job to do?"
   "Yeah, well maybe I don't feel so keen on doing it all of a sudden.
What do you think I am, completely without any moral whatsits, what are
they called, those moral things?"
   "Scruples?"
   "Scruples, thank you, whatsoever? Well?"
   The two officials waited calmly. They coughed slightly to help pass
the time. Zaphod sighed a "what is the world coming to" sort of sigh to
absolve himself from all blame, and swung himself round in his seat.
   "Ship?" he called.
   "Yup?" said the ship.
   "Do what I do."
   The ship thought about this for a few milliseconds and then, after
double checking all the seals on its heavy duty bulkheads, it began
slowly, inexorably, in the hazy blaze of its lights, to sink to the
lowest depths.

   Five hundred feet.
   A thousand.
   Two thousand.
   Here, at a pressure of nearly seventy atmospheres, in the chilling
depths where no light reaches, nature keeps its most heated imaginings.
Two foot-long nightmares loomed wildly into the bleaching light, yawned,
and vanished back into the blackness.
   Two and a half thousand feet.
   At the dim edges of the ship's lights guilty secrets flitted by with
their eyes on stalks.
   Gradually the topography of the distantly approaching ocean bed
resolved with greater and greater clarity on the computer displays until
at last a shape could be made out that was separate and distinct from
its surroundings. It was like a huge lopsided cylindrical fortress which
widened sharply halfway along its length to accommodate the heavy
ultra-plating with which the crucial storage holds were clad, and which
were supposed by its builders to have made this the most secure and
impregnable spaceship ever built. Before launch the material structure
of this section had been battered, rammed, blasted and subjected to
every assault its builders knew it could withstand in order to
demonstrate that it could withstand them.
   The tense silence in the cockpit tightened perceptibly as it became
clear that it was this section that had broken rather neatly in two.
   "In fact it's perfectly safe," said one of the officials, "it's built
so that even if the ship does break up, the storage holds cannot
possibly be breached."

   Three thousand, eight hundred and twenty five feet.
   Four Hi-Presh-A SmartSuits moved slowly out of the open hatchway of
the salvage craft and waded through the barrage of its lights towards
the monstrous shape that loomed darkly out of the sea night. They moved
with a sort of clumsy grace, near weightless though weighed on by a
world of water.
   With his ri...
Zgłoś jeśli naruszono regulamin