Chapter 29 Chapter Twenty Nine

"Please tell us," the thin, pale man stood up, and the others stood behind, bewildered by the flashlight.The speaker has a gun in his hand, but he looks like he is just holding it for someone, and that person will come back soon, "Do you know about the 'balance of nature'?" The captives said nothing.At best they let out a few bewildered grunts.A beam of light fell on them.In the sky above their heads, there are still those robot battle zones. "It's just..." Ban Qiuren said nervously, "It's just something we heard. Maybe it's not important. Hmm... I think we should kill you." He looked down at the gun, as if looking for Like where to press.

"Or..." He raised his head again and said, "What else do you want to talk about?" Slarty Bartfast, Ford, and Arthur felt a numbness in their backs.Their brains are almost numb.Right now, though, the mind is still busy trying to control how much the jaw opens.Trillian shook her head, as if trying to solve a puzzle by shaking the box. "Look," said another person on the other side, "we're a little worried about that plan to destroy the universe." "Yes," said the first person, "and the balance of nature. Because, if you destroy the rest of the universe, it may damage the balance of nature. We attach great importance to environmental protection. You see..." He As he spoke, his voice lowered, and he seemed a little unhappy.

"And sports!" Another person said loudly, which aroused many voices of approval. "Yes," the first one agreed, "and sports..." He looked back at his companions, scratching his cheek, as if he was struggling with the confusion in his heart, as if what he wanted to say was not true What I really think, doesn't even seem to have any connection. "Look..." he muttered, "some of us," he looked at the others, as if for confirmation, and the others ummed in support. "Some of us," he went on, "would like to maintain sports exchanges with other regions of the galaxy-of course, there will be disputes about whether sports should be separated from politics. I think that if we want to maintain sports exchanges with other regions If so, that destruction may have been a mistake...and, the rest of the galaxy..." His voice dropped again, "it seems to be..."

"What..." Slarti Bartfast said, "What..." "Why..." Arthur said. "Then..." Ford said. "Okay." Trillian said, "Let's talk." She stepped forward and grabbed the poor beggar.He was about twenty-five years old, that is to say, he was only twenty when the war ended.Of course, time here has been warped so that it was actually ten billion years ago. Cui Lian led him and walked forward without saying a word.He followed her bewilderedly.The surrounding beams of light also weakened, and it seemed that everyone had to follow the lead of this girl, because she was the only sane person in the dark and ignorant universe.

She turned to him, lightly grasping his arms.He looked melancholy and confused. "Tell me," she said. "He was silent for a moment, his eyes wandering. "We..." he said, "we're all alone...I think," he bowed his head in pain, shaking his head like a piggy bank.He looked up again. "We have a bomb, look..." he said, "a very small bomb." "I know," she said. His eyes widened as if she had suddenly started mentioning beets or something. "Really," he said, "very small." "I know," she said again.

"But they say," his voice trailed off again, "that it will destroy everything. We have to do it... I think. Will we be alone? I don't know. Although that's what we're aiming for... ..." He said, lowering his head again. "No matter what the price is." A voice came from the crowd. Trillian hugged the poor man lightly and patted his slightly trembling head. "It's okay," she said softly, but everyone could hear, "you don't need to do this." She shook his shoulder. "You don't need to do that," she repeated.

She let go and stepped back. "I want to ask you to do me a favor," she said, and suddenly smiled. "I want to invite you..." She smiled again.She covered her mouth with her hands, and then resumed her serious expression, "I want you to take me to meet your chief." She pointed to the sky, as if she already knew that the chief was there. Her smile eased the atmosphere a bit.In the crowd, someone started singing.That tune—if Paul McCartney wrote it, it would make enough money to buy the world.