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 cant 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.
Whys that? said Arthur. Did the surface become too polluted or overpopulated?
No, I dont think so, said Zaphod. I think they just didnt like it very much.
Are you sure you know what youre doing? said Trillian peering nervously into the darkness. Weve 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, lets 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 theres 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.
Dont 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 whales 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 mosaicssimple angular patterns in bright colours. Trillian stopped and studied one of them but could not interpret any sense in them. She called to Zaphod.
Hey, have you any idea what these strange symbols are?
I think theyre just strange symbols of some kind, said Zaphod, hardly glancing back.
Trillian shrugged and hurried after him.
From time to time a doorway led either to the left or right into smallish chambers which Ford discovered to be full of derelict computer equipment. He dragged Zaphod into one to have a look. Trillian followed.
Look, said Ford, you reckon this is Magrathea
Yeah, said Zaphod, and we heard the voice, right?
OK, so Ive bought the fact that its Magratheafor the moment. What you have so far said nothing about is how in the Galaxy you found it. You didnt just look it up in a star atlas, thats for sure.
Research. Government archives. Detective work. Few lucky guesses. Easy.
And then you stole the Heart of Gold to come and look for it with?
I stole it to look for a lot of things.
A lot of things? said Ford in surprise. Like what?
I dont know.
What?
I dont know what Im looking for.
Why not?
Because because I think it might be because if I knew I wouldnt be able to look for them.
What, are you crazy?
Its a possibility I havent ruled out yet, said Zaphod quietly. I only know as much about myself as my mind can work out under its current conditions. And its current conditions are not good.
For a long time nobody said anything as Ford gazed at Zaphod with a mind suddenly full of worry.
Listen old friend, if you want to started Ford eventually.
No, wait Ill tell you something, said Zaphod. I freewheel a lot. I get an idea to do something, and, hey, why not, I do it. I reckon Ill become President of the Galaxy, and it just happens, its easy. I decide to steal this ship. I decide to look for Magrathea, and it all just happens. Yeah, I work out how it can best be done, right, but it always works out. Its like having a Galacticredit card which keeps on working though you never send off the cheques. And then whenever I stop and thinkwhy did I want to do something?how did I work out how to do it?I get a very strong desire just to stop thinking about it. Like I have now. Its a big effort to talk about it.
Zaphod paused for a while. For a while there was silence. Then he frowned and said, Last night I was worrying about this again. About the fact that part of my mind just didnt seem to work properly. Then it occurred to me that the way it seemed was that someone else was using my mind to have good ideas with, without telling me about it. I put the two ideas together and decided that maybe that somebody had locked off part of my mind for that purpose, which was why I couldnt use it. I wondered if there was a way I could check.