HHGTTG - The Lost Chapters
Page 5
"How do the applicant's get down here then," said Arthur, gazing at the big doorway ahead of him marked 'APPLICANTS'.
"Robot ships fly them through the atmosphere," said Ford. "They follow a precise route which avoids the acid clouds. We ought to get hold of that route before we leave, that's bound to be worth a fortune."
"Now you re talking my language," said Zaphod. "Excitement, adventure and really wild things are okay, but clear, tax free profit wins hands and feet down every time!"
"Welcome to Sirius." The jolly voice came from behind them. They turned around to see a gleaming android. If it wasn't for the amiable aura of the robot it could have been Marvin slouching there. "I'm so glad you have decided to try to be SCC employees."
"We don't want to be...." Ford's swift kick to Arthur's shin was sufficient to temporarily disable Arthur's vocal chords.
"We're glad we have the opportunity," beamed Ford. "Any tips you can give us?"
"Gladly," rebeamed the robot, emitting happy signals. "Mind you, all applicants are told this. There is a store room just inside the entrance. You may take any three objects you find in there. Your objective is to reach the offices of the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation." The robot let out a little fanfare. "A company offering useful employment, job satifaction and an incredible perk. Should you require any help on your journey, just shout 'HELP' and a recorded message will play according to your position. Good luck." The robot started to go.
"One thing before you go," said Zaphod.
As the robot turned, Ford swung his satchel with all his might, struck the robot on the head and watched as the robot toppled over. Zaphod leapt on the robot and flipped open it's back panel. He fumbled with the deactivate button until it came off in his hand.
"Great work," said Ford, slapping Zaphod heartily across one of his heads.
"No panic," said Zaphod. "I should be able to reactivate him. Admittedly deactivation will be impossible but hey, you have to compromise in a big Universe like this."
"Okay Arthur," said Ford. "Now's you big chance to do something useful. Pop these memory boards of Marvin into this robot."
"Yeh, let's transplant Marvin into this jovial junk pile," added Zaphod unnecessarily.
"I'll do my best," said Arthur.
"Well in that case," grinned Ford. "I'd better do it."
Arthur snatched the boards from Ford and sat on the robot. He ripped out a couple of boards and slotted Marvin's boards in.
"It's all yours, Zaphod," said Arthur, proudly. "Let's see if you can switch it on again."
The pressure was back on Zaphod. After five minutes of forcing the broken switch back in it's hole, with a liberal dose of cursing and scraped knuckles, a low buzzing came from the robot.
"Oooooohhhhhh no, not again."
"Is it really you, Marvin old mate," said Zaphod.
"Of course it's me," moaned Marvin. "And, yes, I may be old but I am not in any sense of the word, especially in that which refers to the reproductive coupling derivitive which, I might add, would be a physical impossibility, your mate."
"Hey, it is you," said Zaphod. "How's the new body?"
"Mmmm. Marvin paused. "A couple of new interfaces and a database connection to the mainframe. Let's try that." He paused again. "This model came after me, which is hardly Sirius shattering seeing as I am the prototype. It went into mass production. They changed the personality to an amiable, pleasant one. The memory was reduced to prevent boredom, not down to your simple level though, no robot could function at that level, you would be lucky to get a digital watch to function at that level. Just as well you brought my memory with me. The logic boards have a sub etha link to the mainframe. Wretched isn't it."
"Why is it connected to the mainframe?" Asked Arthur.
"It? It? You saddle me with this monstrosity of a body and I'm forced to be at minus one with it so don't you go calling me it," groaned Marvin. "I still got my sulking circuits."
"Sorry," said Arthur, looking skywards. "Why are YOU connected to the mainframe?"
"I'll just interrogate it." Marvin paused. "I could translate every letter the complaints department received in the last millennium into Rezxlibunslan in these response times." He waited. "Every Sirius Cybernetics Corporation device in the Universe has it's logic boards connected to the mainframe for reprogramming."
"I see," said Arthur.
"For reprogramming the device into a killing machine which will form an army strong enough to let the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation take over the Universe," said Marvin, blandly. "It's due to take place tomorrow."
"Jumping Zeon swimming kittens," said Zaphod. "That could ruin the wedding, or even worse, the reception."
"That's all in the mainframe?" Asked Ford.
"Would I make it up?" Replied Marvin.
"But how come no hackers have found out?" Asked Zaphod. "More people have been in that than in Eccentrica Gallumbits!"
"I was asked to design the security system while I was on trial here," said Marvin. "I devised twenty security levels, each progressively more difficult than the last. I say difficult but I'm talking about your sort of difficult, you know, how do I get the lid off this bottle of tablets. Each time something important needs to be stored in the mainframe, a new level is added at the top end. People spend a fortune trying to crack the top level, which increases profit for the SCC. Only a few can crack the top level but all they get is dummy information. All the top secret information is under level one. No-one looks at that because they assume there is nothing of interest in there like the imbecilic fools they are."
"Ingenious," sighed Ford.
"Not really," said Marvin. "Not if you've got a brain the size of....
"Can it, Marvin," interrupted Zaphod. "This is serious. It looks like I've got the save the Universe again."
CHAPTER 52
The Management of the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation were tired of having a monopoly of robotics and computers in the Universe. This had been achieved many, many years ago despite the best efforts of the Marketing Division. So when you reach the top, where do you go? Many have suggested that when you reach the top, there is only one way to go and that is down. The Sirius Cybernetics Corporation couldn't if they tried. They had such a stranglehold on the market, expendable sales alone ensured a frightening profit margin. Thanks to a clever remuneration strategy by the Management, salaries were kept low on the basis of a possible market attack by a fruit seller and as the majority of staff weren't allowed to leave Sirius, any money paid out was soon returned through the shops and bars on the planet. The salesmen were the only people allowed loose on the Universe and they spent money like salesmen usually do, but as all the best salesmen ended up as Management back on Sirius and had to account for and repay all their expenses as a condition of their new job package, the Status Quo was maintained.
So the Management's problem of great wealth and boredom meant there was only one route to take, one challenge to meet, one final bridge to cross. Universal domination. The Organisation and Methods Division came up with the idea of fitting interfaces into all devices in the guise of a remote diagnostics unit. The Director of O & M almost rejected the idea on the basis that there were no job loses involved and his old O & M colleagues would never buy him a drink again if they found out he was involved in a scheme that created jobs. Once he was reminded that his old colleagues never bought him a drink anyway because a time and motion study proved that there was no productivity gain, he backed down and took the idea to the board. This was passed unanimously at the board meeting, the Management getting excited about the prospect of doing something different to working out how many Alterian Dollars they were making per second.
CHAPTER 53
The treacherous trio and the soulful solo passed through the entrance of the initiative test. A large panel slid over the entrance, shutting them in. Large stark letters on the panel confirmed this with a smug 'THERE'S NO BACKING OUT NOW'. Arthur felt a "so this is it, we're going to die" scramble
up his throat, but he fought it back to use when times really got bad. He followed Zaphod and Ford into the storeroom.
"Okay guys," ordered Zaphod. "Grab as much stuff as you can carry."
"But the android said we could only take three things," protested Arthur, his subconscious training to be an Englishman, a gentleman and, most importantly of all, a good sportsman backing him to the hilt.
"Nuts to the android," said Zaphod, his subconscious cowardice backing him from a safe distance. "No excuses for the pun, if it feels embarrassed it can excuse itself."
"Right, let's see," said Ford. "Damn, I've left my satchel outside.
"So?" Asked Zaphod, rummaging through piles of weapons.
"My towel's in there!" Exclaimed Ford, heartbroken. Something hit him on the back of the head.
"There, don't sulk," said Zaphod as Ford picked the towel off the floor.
"It wont be the same," sulked Ford.
"It all seems junk to me," said Arthur. "What do you think, Marvin?"
"More than you could possibly imagine," sighed Marvin.
"Cheer up Marvin," said Ford, brighter after finding the towel impregnated with mopped up Old Janx Spirit. "You must have lost the pain in all the diodes down your...."
"I brought it with me," interrupted Marvin, haughtily. "Life wouldn't be the same without it."
"For God's sake don't start him off on life," said Arthur.
"Come on, guys," said Zaphod testily "The times they are a-changing. Let's get a move on. Remember I've got a rather important appointment with 30 mega-billion viewers, all of them waiting to see the numero uno get hitched. I mean, the advertising revenue alone will buy me a holiday planet somewhere and the commercial spin offs.... I've got Trillian dolls which say 'I do' when you dig them in the ribs, Zaphod dolls which say the same only you have to twist their arms, presentation Hitch-Hikers Guide to the Galaxy wedding covers which bear the Inscription 'Don't Panic, there's always divorce'. If I don't deliver the goods, they don't either, if you get my meaning."
"I m glad to see the values of marriage haven't been lost on you, Zaphod," said Arthur, trying to decide between a mirror and a box of matches.
"Now this is the sort of thing I've been looking for," said Zaphod, leaving his other head to ponder the expected turnover of his wedding. "This Neutron-Breaking Desolation Ray Gun will do for a start."
"I don't know why you're all bothering with this," observed Marvin.
"Zark off, Marvin," said Ford, grabbing a bag of gold coins. "Do something useful."
"I'm going for a walk," said Marvin.
"Very useful, thanks a bundle," shouted Arthur.
"Okay," said Zaphod. "I've got the Ray Gun, the heat seeking Davy knife, the laser spear and that murder grenade over there, if you could pass it to me, Ford."
"Sounds like you're about to embark on what the Americans on Earth used to call a 'Peace Keeping Exercise'," said Arthur.
Ford threw the grenade to Zaphod who held his hand out to catch it and was blown across the room on contact.
"You can only carry three items," came a synthesised voice.
"Okay, okay," said Zaphod, stunned. "I got your message, I'll leave the grenade behind."
"I'm taking a towel, a bag of gold coins and a blast gun," said Ford, looking for the voice. "That's all, honest."
"I think I'll take a blast gun as well, plus a mirror," said Arthur. "And I've found a copy of the Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy here. It's helped me in all my travels so far."
"Very touching," said Zaphod. "I'll sue the bastards for unlawful use of the Guide without the Editor's permission."
"Are we going to save the Universe or draw up a law suit against the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation?" Asked Ford.
"Right, troops," said Zaphod. "Let's keep a tight formation, Arthur, cover our backs, Ford, watch for snipers. Okay, wagons roll!"
"Excuse me, Zaphod," said Ford, as Zaphod stuck his chest out in preparation for a non-existent swell from an orchestra. "Don't you think we should have a plan?"
"Aw, belgium man," cried Zaphod. "You ruined a great moment."
"It was hardly MGM," pointed out Arthur, none too happy about covering the back, as the last man always got jumped by the Indians.
"Okay, okay, guys," said Zaphod, putting his heads together. "Let's do some brainstorming."
"We'd be lucky if you could muster a light drizzle, Zaphod." Ford felt quite proud of that one.
"Shush," said Zaphod, closing his eyes in a poor attempt to look like he was concentrating. "Ideas, guys, ideas. Arthur?"
"Well if we have to disable the computer," he started, unsure as to whether he would be able to finish. "When we reach the computer, couldn't we just pull the plug?"
"Come on, Arthur," sighed Ford. "We're not dealing with a 13 amp three pin here."
"Well you asked," said Arthur.
"We all make mistakes," said Zaphod. "Ford?"
"We could plug Marvin into it," offered Ford. "Get him to do his version of 'Reasons to be Miserable'. That would destroy anything."
"Possible back up but not spectacular enough," mused Zaphod. "How does this sound? We enter the ventilation system and crawl through the pipes until we reach the computer suite. Then we swoop! We swing down on ropes, screaming in from the sun, well, fluorescent lighting, then pow! Boom! Bang! Swoosh! Kerrang! Bash! Smash! Crunch! A couple more pows and one final boom! Guns ablazing, we destroy the databanks, scorch the CPU and terminate the terminals. Now that's what I call debugging! Strategists will re-enact it for eons to come. 'Zaphod Computer Killer Kits' will be available from all good stockists. Kids will walk around wearing tee shirts emblazoned with 'Now that's what I call debugging' and 'Zaphod say debug, don't do it'. I'll make a fortune."
"Where do we get the ropes?" Asked Arthur. "I don't see any here."
"And if we did have them, where do we tie them to when we swoop?" Furthered Ford. "Do we say 'Excuse me, computer suite guards, could you just look the other way for five minutes while we tie our ropes up so we can do a surprise swooping attack?' Very plausible."
"Boom, pow, no mercy, death to the diodes, murder those microchips...." Zaphod paused, stopped swiping his fist into the palm of one of his other hands, looked at Ford and Arthur then dropped his heads. He lowered his voice to it's most disappointed level. "Okay, we'll use Marvin. Where is he?"
CHAPTER 54
Marvin was wandering. Not a happy, joyful stroll, more a sort of morose meander. Nevertheless, he had a purpose. On the basis of the information he had gained from his limited conversation with Zaphod, Ford and Arthur, he decided to do an improbability sum. He knew where they had been due to a particle analysis test he ran on meeting them again to pass the time. He knew where he was, because he was that sort of robot. He linked his mind modem into Eddie on the Heart of Gold to assess the ship's speed, weight, improbability velocity, relative journey time in nanoseconds, molecular reabsorbtion during flight and the general mood the ship was in during the trip to Sirius. To this he added his knowledge of improbability physics, the space vector correlation, wind factors, quasi-social and semi-structural effects data from previous flights and the general mood he was in. To this he subtracted 42, divided the remainder by the square root of -l and related his answer to the floor layout of the initiative test. He knew that the total opposite of calculated position was where he wanted to go.
The room to which Marvin was heading was locked from the outside, much to the annoyance of it's occupants. They had tried everything they could think of with the candle, box of matches and blank piece of paper they had been left. Lighting the candle with the matches only lit the candle and trying to push the key out with the matches to catch on the piece of paper pushed under the door had no effect. The key was a dud anyway. Trying to burn the door down showed desperation and was doomed from the start but supplied some excuse to vent anger. The same applied to trying to kick down the door.
"There must be a logical solution," said Fenchurch.
"Well it's all very improbable," sighed Trillian. "So I imagine the men had something to do with it as they were using the Heart of Gold tonight."
"Why don't we try burning the matches and writing a note on the paper with the burnt sticks, slip it under the door and perhaps someone will see it," said Fenchurch.
"It's worth a try," said Trillian.
"No it's not," said Marvin as the door slid open to a jovial 'happy service'.