Chapter 2 Chapter two

This morning—two years since the above events—was a fresh and sweet morning.Arthur was emerging from the cave he called "home"—unless, of course, he came up with a better name, or found a better cave. Although his throat was aching from the terrified cry, he felt suddenly in a good mood.He wrapped the ragged nightgown tightly around his body, and smiled slightly facing the bright morning light. The air is clean and fragrant, the gentle breeze blows the lush weeds around the cave, the birds chirp, the butterflies dance, and everything in nature looks extremely beautiful at this time.

Arthur was not so happy because of this pastoral beauty.His reasoning was that he finally had a good idea that would allow him to deal with this terrible loneliness, nightmares, failed attempts at gardening, and a completely hopeless future and boring life on this prehistoric earth.The idea was this: He was going crazy. He smiled again and took a bite of the leftover rabbit leg from dinner.He chewed happily for a while, and decided to formally announce his decision. He straightened up and looked around at the world of fields and hills.In order to enhance the weight of his speech, he hung rabbit bones on his beard.He stretched out his arms vigorously.

"I'm going crazy!" he declared. "Good idea," said Ford Prefect, climbing down from the rock on which he had been sitting. Arthur couldn't react for a while, his jaw opened in bewilderment. "I was crazy for a while," said Ford, "and it didn't do any good." "See..." said Ford, "..." "Where have you been?" interrupted Arthur, now that his brains had finally come to his senses. "Around," Ford said. "Around, everywhere." He gave his usual, often considered disrespectful grin. "I just relaxed my brain. I think, if the world really needs me , it will call me back. It did.”

He pulled out the sub-ether autosensor from a badly damaged satchel. "At least," he said, "I think it's beeping. This one's already kind of responding." He shook the sensor. "If it's a false signal, I'm going crazy," he said, "again." Arthur shook his head and sat down.He looked up. "I thought you must be dead..." he said frankly. "Yeah, for a while," said Ford, "and then I decided to be a lemon for a few weeks. Jumping in and out of a gin and tonic just kept me in the mood." Arthur cleared his throat, and then cleared his throat again.

"You," he said, "where are you...?" "Find a gin and tonic?" said Ford cheerfully. "I found a little lake, thought of it as a gin and tonic, and jumped in and out. At least, I thought of it as a gin and tonic." Gin and tonic water." "I could," he went on, with the kind of big smile that would have driven a normal person into a tree, "imagining it is." He waited for Arthur's reaction, but Arthur understood it better than he thought. "Cheer up." He replied calmly. "It's worth noting, you see," said Ford, "that it's not worth the frantic effort to keep yourself from going crazy. You might as well just give up and stay normal."

"You're barking again now, aren't you?" said Arthur. "I'm just asking." "I went to Africa," said Ford, "yes?" "yes." "How about there?" "So this is your cave, isn't it?" said Ford. "Er, yes," said Arthur, feeling odd to him.After four years of absolute solitude, he was so happy, so relieved, to see Ford appear.Almost crying.Ford, on the other hand, is a man who can get irritated quickly. "Very nice," said Ford, commenting on Arthur's cave, "you must hate it."

Arthur didn't bother to answer. "Africa is fun," Ford said. "I've done some new things there." He gazed into the distance, full of thought. "I used to enjoy cruelty to animals," he said softly, "but only," he added, "as a hobby," "Oh, yes," said Arthur cautiously. "Yes," confirmed Ford. "I won't bother you with those details, because they will." "what?" "Troubles you. You're probably more interested in this, though: I've single-handedly influenced the evolution of that animal you'll think of as a giraffe n centuries from now. Also, I'm learning to fly .Do you believe?"

"Go ahead," said Arthur. "I'll tell you. I was about to mention that the Guide said..." "what?" "The Guide...remember?" "Well, I remember throwing it in the river." "Yes," said Ford, "I picked it up again." "You didn't tell me." "I don't want you to throw it again." "Okay." Arthur agreed. "It said...?" "what?" "It says in the Guide?" "The "Guide" says that there is a method, or a trick, of flying. The trick is that you have to learn to throw yourself towards the ground without touching the ground." He smiled embarrassingly, pointing to his own knee, and raised his arm again to show Arthur his elbow.Clothes in these parts were worn and torn.

"I haven't done very well so far," he said, holding out his hand. "It's really nice to see you again, Arthur," he said. Arthur shook his head, a strong, very mixed feeling came over him. "I haven't seen a single person in years," he said. "Not a single one. I can barely remember how to talk. I keep forgetting words. You know, I've been practicing. I've been practicing against... against ...what do people usually call the things that madmen talk to? Like 'George III'?" "King?" Ford guessed. "No, no," said Arthur, "the kind you talk to. We've got them all around us, for God's sake. I made a hundred of them myself. They're all dead. And trees! I'm still practicing talking to trees. What's that for?"

Ford still held out his hand.Arthur looked at the hand in bewilderment. "Shake hands," Ford reminded him. Arthur shook it.It was a little nervous at first, as if it was going to turn into a fish.Then Arthur felt a flood of relief, and he clasped Ford's hand tightly with both of his own, shaking and shaking. After a while, Ford decided it was time to call it a day.So they climbed to the top of a nearby rock outcropping and had a sweeping view in all directions. "What about the Gorga Africans?" asked Ford. [① Golga Africans: a group of aliens who immigrated to the prehistoric earth in the second part.In the original Golgafrinchans, the second half of the word is very similar to "African", which is suspected to be intentional by the author. ——Translator's Note]

Arthur shrugged. "Many of them didn't survive the winter three years ago," he said. "The few that survived the spring said they needed a vacation and left on a raft. According to history they should have survived..." "Oh," said Ford, "well, well." Putting his hand to his mouth, he looked around the empty world again.Suddenly, Ford felt an energy, a sense of purpose. "Let's go," he said excitedly, with a shudder of vitality, "Where? How?" asked Arthur. "I don't know," Ford said, "I just think it's time. Something's going to happen. We're on our way." He lowered his voice, like a whisper: "I have discovered the waves in the current." He stared into the distance, his eyes piercing, as if hoping for a gust of wind that would blow his hair back theatrically.It's a pity that the wind is busy messing around with a few leaves not far away. Arthur asked him to repeat what he had just said, but he did not understand.Ford repeated. "Water?" said Arthur. "The flow of time and space," Ford said.At this time, a small gust of wind came, and he bared his teeth to meet the wind. Arthur nodded and cleared his throat again. "Are we talking," Arthur asked cautiously, "some Vogon laundromats, or something?" "Whirlpools," said Ford, "are the ones in the space-time continuum," "Ah." Arthur nodded, "He. Is it him?" He put his hands in the pockets of his nightgown, seeming to understand. "What?" said Ford. "Well, Whirlpool," said Arthur, "who? Exactly?" Ford looked at him annoyed. "Are you listening or not?" he said angrily. "I'm listening," said Arthur, "but I don't know if it's any use." Ford clutched the collar of his nightgown and told him slowly, carefully, and patiently, as if he were a telephone company toll collector. "There are some..." he said, "sets of uncertainty..." he said, "they're in the overall framework..." he said. Arthur stared foolishly at the hem of the nightgown that Ford was pulling.Ford went on before Arthur could say anything silly: "...in the framework of time and space," he said. "Oh, so," said Arthur. "Yes, that's right," Ford affirmed. They stood on this hillside of prehistoric Earth, staring at each other. "It's gone?" Arthur said. "It," adds Ford, "creates a collection of uncertainties." "It made it?" said Arthur.His gaze was unwavering. "It was made," replied Ford with the same quiet expression. "Very well," Arthur said. "Got it?" said Ford. "No," said Arthur. There was a short silence. "The problem with this conversation," said Arthur, with a thoughtful expression on his face, "is that it was so different from my previous conversations. Those, as I said, were mostly Talking to trees. They're not like that. Except a couple of times, my conversation with the elms was a little off." "Arthur," said Ford. "Hi? Yes?" said Arthur. "Trust what I tell you. They're very, very simple." "Ah, I'm not sure I can believe that." The two sat down to organize their thoughts. Ford pulled out the sub-ether automatic sensor.The device was humming lowly, with a faint light on. "Out of battery?" Arthur asked. "No," said Ford, "there's a moving wave in space-time, a whirlpool, a collection of uncertainties, near us." "where?" Ford turned the sensor slowly half a turn.Suddenly, the lights flickered. "There!" Ford pointed, "There! Behind the sofa!" Arthur looked over, and to his surprise there was a velvet, paisley daybed.He immediately felt extremely confused, and countless question marks popped up in his mind. "Why..." he said, "there are sofas in the fields?" "I told you!" Ford hopped. "Swirls in the space-time continuum!" "So this is his sofa, isn't it?" Arthur asked.He struggled to his feet, hoping for an affirmative answer—although he didn't feel so optimistic. "Arthur!" roared Ford, "the reason the couch is here is that space-time indeterminacy I just tried to make your invincible degenerate brain understand! It's thrown out of the space-time continuum, it's a Time-space discard! It doesn't matter what it is, we have to catch him anyway, this is the only way we can escape!" As he spoke, he hurriedly climbed down the rock and rushed to the field. "Catch it?" Arthur murmured.A blank expression from seeing the sofa bed hangs on his face.His thoughts bounced and floated across the grass. With a cry of surprise, Arthur danced down from the rock, and Ford went after the unreasonable piece of furniture. They advanced at full speed through the grass, jumping, laughing, and reminding each other of the obstacles ahead from time to time.The sun shone dreamily through the wobbly grass.The small animals in the field were frightened and fled in all directions. Arthur was happy.Everything today is finally going according to plan, and he feels extremely happy.Twenty minutes before he had decided he was going crazy, now he was chasing a daybed across the wilds of prehistoric Earth. The couch bounces around constantly, momentarily as real as the trees (as it circles around them) and momentarily as nothingness like a dream (as it ghostly passes through them).Ford and Arthur followed, scrambling, but the sofa seemed to be able to weave and dodge the uneven ground according to its own complex topographical laws.As they chased it, it jumped away, turning abruptly, as if passing through the highest point of a complex function curve (while they were at its lowest point).With a violent dive and a loud roar, the two of them flung themselves on the sofa.The sun flashes and disappears.They fell on the empty ground, looked up annoyed, and were surprised to find themselves on the fairway at Lord's Cricket Ground, St Jones's Forest, London.A match was being held here, the last of the Australian Series Championships in 1980.England needed only 28 more runs to win. 【② Fairway: The center of the cricket field is a rectangular area.Also translated square court or drop area. ——Translator's Note] 【③ The publication time of this book is 1982, and the writing time is earlier, so the competition written here is fictional by the author.The cricket series championship itself (such as its trophy name, venue, etc.) is real. ——Translator's Note]