Chapter 17 Chapter Seventeen

As noted in The Disaster Zone, a plutonium pop-roll band from the Juggulka Kaka Mind Zone, they are not only considered the noisiest rock band in the galaxy, in fact, they are simply the loudest of all noises .Fans who often go to their concerts judge that the best sound balance is usually in a giant concrete bunker seventeen miles away from the stage, while the musicians themselves stay in a complete ship in orbit around this planet. In the soundproof spaceship, they play their instruments by remote control.More often than not, the musicians stay in the orbit of another planet. All of their tracks are pretty simple, mostly dealing with the theme of boy meets girl under a silvery moon, and then the moon explodes without any good reason.

Much of the world has banned their shows entirely, sometimes for artistic reasons but mostly because the band's public well PA system violates the region's Strategic Arms Limitation Treaty, However, this has not stopped them from making a fortune, their method is to push back the boundaries of "pure meta-mathematics", and their chief research accountant has just been appointed as a professor of "new mathematics" at Maxim Galen University. shows the acceptance of his general and specific theory of tax rebates in disaster zones, in which he demonstrates that the entire fabric of the space-time continuum is not only curved, but completely curved

Ford staggered back to the table where Zaphod, Arthur, and Trillian were sitting, waiting for the show to begin in the county. "Let's have something to eat," said Ford. "Hi, Ford," said Zaphod, "have you talked to the less than who made the loud noise?" Ford shook his head noncommittally. "Holtblack? In a sense I've talked to him, yes." "what did he say?" "Oh, not much actually. He... um..." "what?" "He's dying for a year because of taxes. I have to sit down." He sat down. The waiter came forward.

"Would you like to see the menu?" he said, "or would you like today's regular meal?" "Ah!" said Ford. "Ah!" said Arthur. "Ah!" Trillian said. "Great," said Zaphod, "bring us meat." In a small room above this house, a tall, slender man with slender limbs opened a curtain, and what was reflected on his face was nothingness and annihilation. It was not a pretty face, perhaps because nothingness and oblivion had been reflected on it so often.For one thing, it was too long, the eyes were too sunken, the bones were too prominent, the cheeks were too deep, and his lips were too thin and too long, and when they parted, his teeth looked like a bay window that had just been wiped.The hand holding the curtain is also long, thin and cold.This hand rests lightly on the folds of the curtains, giving the impression that if he had not watched over them like a hawk, they would have scrambled away of their own accord, into a corner to do something terribly impossible. To describe things to:

He let the curtains fall, and the dreadful light that shone on his face vanished for some other healthier place, and he paced up and down the little room like a bird contemplating its supper-hunt. Finally, he sat down in a rickety chair by a trestle table and flipped through a few pages of jokes. The bell rang. He pushed aside a few pages and stood up; he brushed the tinsel tinsel that adorned his Yankee lightly with his hand, and went out the door, In the restaurant, the lights dimmed and the band picked up the tempo.A cone of light shot down, breaking the darkness on the steps leading to the center of the stage.

A tall, colorful figure jumped up the steps.He rushed onto the stage, moved briskly to the microphone, grabbed it with his slender hand, and then stood there for a while, bowing left and right to the audience, thanking them for their applause and showing off his Bay window die, he waved to some special friends of his in the audience, even if there were no such friends there, and he waited for the applause to die down. He continued to raise his hands and smiled, a smile that not only stretched from ear to ear, but even seemed to extend beyond the entire face. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen!" he cried. "Thank you very much. Thank you very much!"

He winked at them. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "the universe, as we know it, has existed for over seventeen million million billion billion years, and it is about to end in a little over half an hour. So welcome to Everyone and all come to 'The End of the Sky', the restaurant at the end of the universe!" With one gesture he subtly evokes a round of spontaneous applause: with another gesture he terminates the applause, "I'm your host tonight," he said, "and my name is Max Corverde-Le-Plain."—a name known to all, whose performances are well known throughout the known galaxy, but he Saying the name again, in order to provoke another round of applause - and he replied with a denying smile and wave: "I just came straight from the other side of time, where I hosted the A show at the Big Bang Burger Bar - I can tell you we had a very exciting evening there. Ladies and gentlemen - and now, I'll be with you Live this historic moment, that is, the end of history itself!"

Another burst of applause died down quickly as the lights grew dimmer.At each table the candles lit themselves, eliciting a slight gasp from all the diners -- and enveloping them in flickering candlelight and a myriad of looming shadows the great golden dome began very slowly As the ground dimmed and faded, a thrill of excitement swept through the dimly lit restaurant. Max's voice sounded again, looking very solemn, "Ladies and gentlemen," he said with a change of breath, "the candles are lit, the orchestra plays softly, and the dome of the protective shield above us becomes transparent, revealing a gray and gloomy sky. The sky. The sky is filled with the distant light of the expanding stars. I can see it - all of us are preparing for the revelation of an incredible night!"

The extremely shocking shock fell on all those who had never seen such a scene before. At this time, even the soft sound from the band disappeared. A strong and terrible light poured in and shone on the people. A startling light. A fiery and dangerous light. A light that would destroy even hell. The universe is coming to an end! After what seemed to be endless seconds, as the entire restaurant spun silently in a berserk void, Max finally spoke. "You want to see the light at the end of the cosmic tunnel," he said, "and here it is." The band started playing again.

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen," cried Max, "I'll be back with you later, and now I'll hand you over to the wonderfully deft hands of Mr. Reg Nalifa and his Sir Deluge Band? Big applause, ladies and gentlemen, for Reg and his mates!" In the sky, the evil commotion continued.But after a while, normal conversation resumed, and Max began to ask questions at the dinner table, joking with the guests, laughing and shouting at the same time, so as to earn his own living expenses. A gigantic mammal walks up to Zaphod Beeblebrox's dining table.It was a fleshy, bovine quadruped with huge heels and small horns, and a grin that could almost be interpreted as flattering,

"Good evening." It lowered its body and sat heavily on its hind legs. "I am the main course of today's regular meal. Can I introduce you to the various parts of my body?" It cleared its throat, "Humph" a few times, twisted and adjusted the back quarter of his body into a more comfortable position, and then stared at them calmly. Its eyes met the surprised, bewildered looks of Arthur and Trillian, Ford's resigned shrug, and Zaphod Beeblebrox's stark hunger. "Perhaps some shoulder meat," suggested the animal, "and stewed in a white wine sauce." "Well, is it your shoulder?" Shanse asked in a low voice with horror, 'Of course my shoulders, sir,' the animal grunted contentedly, 'I don't offer other people's things. " Zaphod got up and began poking its shoulder appreciatively, feeling its flesh. "Or the rump is pretty good too," the animal grumbled. "I've been exercising that part and eating a lot of grain, so there's a lot of good meat here." It grunted , start chewing the anti-food, and then swallow the food. "Or, maybe make me a casserole," it added. "You mean the animal is really willing to let us eat it?" Trillian asked Ford in a low voice. 'I...' said Ford, eyes glazed over, 'I didn't mean anything. " 'this is too scary. exclaimed Arthur. "That's the most shocking thing I've ever heard." " "What's the problem, Earthlings?" said Zaphod, whose attention had shifted to the animal's gigantic buttocks. "I'll eat it," said Arthur. "This is cruel." "It's better than eating an animal that isn't always eaten," Zaphod said. "That's not the point of the matter," protested Arthur.Then he thought about it for a while, "Well," he said, "maybe that's really the point. I don't care, I won't think about it anymore now. I'm just... um..." Cosmos expressed his anger in terms of his own dying struggles. "I think I'll just order a green salad," he muttered. "May I ask you to consider my liver?" said the animal. "At this stage it must be very nutritious and very tender. I have been forcing myself to overeat for decades." "A green salad!" Arthur insisted, "A green salad?" asked the animal, rolling its eyes and staring at Arthur disapprovingly. "Are you going to tell me," said Arthur, 'that I shouldn't eat vegetables? " "Oh," said the animal, "I know that many vegetables do not like to be eaten, these entanglements, unless willingly. Here I am, sir." It bowed slightly and bowed. "Give me a glass of water, please," said Arthur. 'You see,' said Zaphod, 'we want to eat, and we don't want to be here talking about ordering.Please give us four servings of tender inner row, hurry up.We haven't eaten for 570,000 million years. " The animal staggered to its feet and let out a sweet-crab grunt. "Very wise choice. Sir, if I may say so. Excellent," it said. "I'll back off and shoot myself." It turned around and winked at Shise in a friendly way, "Don't worry, sir," it said, "it'll be all right." It swayed and walked unhurriedly towards the kitchen. A few minutes later, the waiter brought four huge steaks, still steaming.Zamford and Ford didn't hesitate at all, and ate voraciously.Cui Pusi froze for a moment, then shrugged and started to eat too. Arthur stared at his share, feeling a little sick. "Hey! Terran," said Zaphod, "what's the matter with you? Got your tongue eaten?" The band continued to play. Throughout the restaurant, people relaxed and chatted; the air was filled with chatter and smells of exotic plants, extravagant food, and enticing wines.In every direction extending infinitely, the cosmic cataclysm intensified and reached its climax.Max glanced at his watch, then danced back to the stage. "Now, ladies and gentlemen," he said with a smile, "are you all enjoying this wonderful last moment?" "Yeah," shouted those who would yell "yes" whenever the comedians asked if they were having a good time. "That's great," said Max enthusiastically, "that's great. The storm is eddying around us, ready to tear the last of those red hot stars to pieces: I know you'll all be ready, Join me in sharing this ultimate experience that is sure to thrill us all." He paused, his eyes twinkling at the audience. "Trust me! Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "there's nothing that can make this moment second to last. This is the ultimate." He paused again.Tonight, his timing was perfect.He's hosted this show over and over again, night after night, and of course the word "night" here -- it doesn't really mean much at the end of time.There is only an endless loop of last moments here.The restaurant swings slowly forward, past the edge of the furthest frontier of time - and then back again.Still, it was a good "night," with the audience completely in the grip of his haggard hand.His voice dropped and they had to strain their nerves to hear clearly: "This—" he said, "really is the absolute ultimate, the end of cold and barrenness where the grand continuity of creation dies. This, ladies and gentlemen, is known as 'The Moment' !" He lowered his voice. In such silence, even a fly dared not clear his throat. "After this," he said, "there's nothing but nothing. Void, oblivion, absolutely nothing!" His eyes twinkled again - or, blinked? "Nothing! Except, of course, for dessert and a selection of Aldebaran (Q Taurus) liqueurs!" The band echoed him with musical sounds, which he didn't want them to do—he didn't need that, no artist had that kind of quality—he could play the audience as if he were playing his own instrument: they Laughing with relief, he continued. "For the one and only time," he exclaimed cheerfully, "you don't have to worry about the discomfort of waking up drunk tomorrow, because—there's no tomorrow!" He smiled at the laughing audience offstage.He looked up at the sky house, going through his bloody nightly routine: this one lasted only a second, and he trusted his one eye like a professional trusts another. "Now," he swaggered across the stage, "at the risk of spoiling this wonderful feeling of near-apocalyptic boredom tonight, I would like to extend my welcome to several groups." He took a card from his pocket. "We have—" he held up a hand to stop the cheers from the audience, "do we have Team III from the Kwashford Tomarien Bridge Club, are they here?" There was a loud cheer from behind, but he pretended not to hear it, looking around for them, "Are they here?" he asked again, to elicit even more cheers. He saw them, as he always did, "Sniff, there they are. Well, it's the last call, boys—no cheating. Remember this solemn moment." He embraced the laughter. "We still have, do we have a team of lesser gods from the hall of Asgard?" From his right came a rumble of thunder, and a bolt of lightning across the stage.A troop of furry men in helmets sat looking contented, and saluted him with wine glasses. Always playing this way, he thought to himself. "Watch your hammer, sir," said he, They did another lightning trick, and Max gave them a very forced smile. "The third," he said, "the third is a group of Young Conservatives from Sirius B. Are they here?" A gang of smartly dressed puppies stopped throwing rolls at each other and hurled them onto the stage together, all the while barking inexplicably. "Yes," Max said, "well, the universe is dying, and it's your fault, do you understand?" "Though," said Max, motioning the audience to silence while resuming his dignified expression, "I believe we have with us tonight a team of believers, very devout believers, from 'The Great Prophet Zha Kun's Second Coming, the sect..." There were about twenty of them, sitting outside, dressed as ascetic monks, drinking mineral water uneasily, keeping a distance from the feast in front of them.They just blinked indignantly when the spotlight hit them. "There they are," Max said, "sit there patiently. Prophet Zakun said he will come again, but he kept you waiting so long, we hope this guy moves fast, because he only has eight Minutes!" Zakun's followers sat steadfast, refusing to be pounded by the relentless waves of laughter that swept over them. Max stopped his audience, "No, serious friends, serious I mean no offense at all. No, I just know that we all should not make fun of strong faith. So, I propose a big round of applause to the great Prophet Zakun" The audience applauded obediently. "Wherever he's gone!" He blew a kiss to the poker-faced group before returning to center stage. He pulled a high stool and sat on it. "That's great," he babbled, "to see so many of you here tonight—isn't it? Thought it would be wonderful to come here and visit the end of everything and go back to your respective time homes to raise your families and fight for a new and better society and fight what you think is right Battles. These battles do offer hope for the coming of all life forms. Only, of course—” He waved his hand at the commotion of the cosmos overhead and around him “we know that there is no such bright future.” Arthur turned to Ford—his head hadn't made the place. "You see," he said, "if the universe were to end, wouldn't we die with it?" Ford handed him glasses of Pangalactic Gargle Blast, in other words, a glass of something pretty violent. "No," he said, "you see," he went on, "once you're in this shitty bar, you're also protected by a marvelous time-bending shield or something. At least I That's what I thought." "Oh..." Arthur said = he turned his attention back to try to get a bowl of soup from the waiter in place of his steak "Look," said Ford, "I'll show you." He tore a napkin off the table and fiddled with it hopelessly. "You see," he went on, "suppose this napkin, by the way, is the universe of the time dimension, isn't it, and this spoon is a conversion system, through such a bend..." It took him a long time to say this, and Arthur was reluctant to interrupt him, "But I'm going to drink soup from this spoon," he said, "Well then," said Ford, "let's say this spoon—" He found a small wooden spoon from the hors d'oeuvres plate, "this spoon—" and found it difficult to hold, "Never mind, Or this fork is better..." "Hey, can you put down my spoon?" Zan Hood snapped: "Okay then," said Ford, "OK, ok; why don't we say...why don't we say this wine glass is a time-dimensional universe?" "What, is that the one you just dropped on the ground?" "Did I do it 7" "yes," "Okay then," said Yotte, "leave it alone. I mean... I mean, look, you know—you know how the universe actually started dying," "Probably not," said Arthur, wishing he had never brought up the subject. "Well," said Ford, "assuming so. Yes. You have this tub. Yes. A big round tub. Made of ebony." "Where did it come from," said Arthur, "Harrods, the place where black art came from, has been destroyed by the Vogons." "That's not the important thing." "Go on," "listen." "Ok." "You have this tub, see? Suppose you have this tub. And, it's made of ebony, conical" "Conical?" said Arthur. "What kind?" "Shh!" said Ford, "it's just a cone, and then what you have to do is--you know--fill it with sand, see? Or sugar. Sand, or sugar, any Stuff, it's all right. Sugar's good, and when it's full, you unplug the tub, are you listening?" "I'm listening!" "You pull the plug, and then the contents just spin out, spin out, you know, out of the plug hole." "I see." "Don't get it. You don't get it at all. I haven't gotten to the best part yet. Do you want the best part?" "Tell me the best part," "I'll tell you the best part." Ford thought for a moment, trying to remember what the best part was. "The best part," he said, "is this. You film it as it happens." "Excellent," Arthur agreed. "You have a video camera that captures what's happening." "It's really wonderful." "That's not the best part. That's the best part, now that I remember, that's the best part. The best part is, then, you put the film in the projector and rewind it!" "Fall back?" "Yeah. Putting it in and pouring it back is really the best part. Then, you sit there and watch, and everything spirals up through the plug and eventually fills the tub. Got it?" "That's how the universe began, isn't it?" said Arthur. "No," said Ford, "it's a great way to relax." He reached for his glass. "Where's my glass?" he asked. "on the ground." "Oh." Ford tilted his chair back to find the wine glass, but bumped into a green waiter, who was walking towards the table with a portable phone. Ford apologized, explaining that it was because he was quite drunk. The waiter said it didn't matter in the slightest, which he understood perfectly. Zonte thanked him for his kind tolerance, and then slid under the table. "Mr. Zaphod Bishop Brooks?" asked the waiter. "Um, what's up?" said Zaphod, looking away from his first steak. "There's a call from you," "Well, what?" "A phone call, sir." "For me? Here? Hey, but who's going to know I'm here?" One of his minds was racing, while the other was still lovingly watching the food he was gulping into his mouth. "Excuse me for continuing to eat, will you?" said his eating head, and continued eating. There were so many people trying to arrest him that he couldn't count them.He shouldn't have barged in in such a conspicuous way, hell, why not?he thinks.How do you know you're having fun if no one sees you having fun' "Maybe someone here tipped off the Galactic Police," Trillian said. "Everybody saw you come in." "You mean they're trying to arrest me over the phone?" Zaphod said. "Probably. I'd be a pretty dangerous guy if cornered." "Yes," said a voice from under the table, "you'll fall apart in no time, into pieces. So fast, someone else will be hurt by the pieces." "Hey, what are you talking about? Could it be that today is Judgment Day?" Zaphod snapped. "You think so, too," Arthur asked nervously. "I'm not that eager to get to Doomsday," murmured Zaphod, "Okay, let's see, who's on the other end of the phone?" He kicked Ford, "Hey, get up , man," he told him, "I might need you." "I myself," said the waiter, "don't know that Mr. Metal you speak of, sir." "Metal?" "Yes, sir." "Did you mean metal?" "Yes, sir. I mean I don't know that Mr. Metal you speak of personally!" "Okay, keep talking." "But I was told that he has been waiting for you to come back here for thousands of years. It seems that you left a little suddenly at the beginning," "Get out!" said Zaphod. "Is there something wrong with you? We've only just gotten here." "That's true, sir," the waiter insisted stubbornly, "but according to my understanding, you left here before arriving, sir." Zaphod thought about it in one mind, then forked into the other, "You mean," he said, "we were out of here before I came here," It's going to be a long, hard night, the waiter thought. "Exactly, sir," he said. "An analyst like you should be paid extra, buddy," suggested Zaphod. "No, wait a minute," said Ford, jumping down from under the table, "where exactly is this place?" "Absolutely exactly, sir, this is Frogstar." "But we just got out of there," protested Zaphod, "we got out of there and came to the restaurant at the end of the universe." "Yes, sir," said the waiter, feeling that things were finally entering familiar territory, "the restaurant was built on the ruins of Frogstar." "Oh," Arthur suddenly realized, "you mean we travel in time, not in space?" "Listen, you half-evolved ape," interrupted Zaphod, "wouldn't it be nice to find a tree to climb?" Arthur's hair stood on end with rage. "Bump your own two heads and four eyes together," he suggested to Zaphod. "No, no," said the waiter to Zambold, "your monkey is right, sir." In a fit of rage, Arthur was tongue-tied, and nothing proper, or even at least coherent, came out. "You jumped forward... I believe for 576,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000, basis I believe basis, while staying in place and not moving," the waiter explained.he laughed.He feels good now because, in the end, he won against the slimmest, almost impossible odds of winning. "I see!" said Zaphod, "I see. I told the computer to send us to the nearest place to eat, and that's what it did. Even after five hundred and seventy-six million million years or whatever , we never moved. It’s wonderful.” Everyone agrees that this is indeed very ingenious. "But who's on the phone?" Zaphod said. "I don't know what happened to Marvin?" Trillian said. Zaphod put his hand to his head. "That paranoid robot! I left him on the Frog Galaxy B world." "when did it happen," "Well, 576,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 years ago, I suppose," said Zaphod. "Hey, well, pass me that stick you're holding, Captain of the plate." The little waiter was puzzled, his eyebrows knit together on his forehead. "Excuse me, can you say that again, sir?" he said. "Phone, waiter," Zampud said, snatching it up. "Hey, you guys are so out of fashion, I don't know what you're thinking." "Indeed, sir." "Hey, Marvin, is that you," Zaphod said into the phone, "How are you, buddy?" After a long time, a thin and deep voice came from the phone. "I think you should know that I am very upset," it said. Zaphod covered the phone with his hand. "It's Marvin," he said. "Hey, Marvin," he continued into the phone, "we're having a good time. Great food, good wine, a little self-indulgence, and the end of the universe is coming. Where can we find a body," Another pause. "You know, you don't have to pretend to care about me," said Marvin at last. "I know very well that I'm nothing more than a mechanical servant." "Okay, okay," said Zaphod, "but where the hell are you?" "...'Reverse initial thrust, Marvin,' that's what they said to me, 'Open number three airlock, Marvin.' 'Marvin, can you pick up that paper?' Can I put Pick up that piece of paper, I have the intelligence of a whole planet, but they call me..." "Okay, okay." Zaphod said with little sympathy. "I'm very used to being humiliated, though," buzzed Marvin. "I could even go and get my head in a bucket of water if you wish. You want me to dip my head in a bucket of water." Is it? I'm ready. You wait:" "Well, hey, Marvin..." Zaphod interrupted, but it was too late.There was a "dang" sound from the phone, and the sound of gurgling water. "What did he say?" Trillian asked. "Nothing," Zaphod said, "he just called and told us he was going to wash his hair." "It's done," Marvin said, and he was back on the line, his mouth seemed to be bubbling. "I hope to be satisfied." "Okay, okay," said Zaphod, "can you please tell us where you are now?" "I'm in the parking lot," said Marvin, "The parking lot?" said Zaphod. "What are you doing there?" "Parking, what can a person do in the parking lot?" "Okay, hold on a little longer, we'll come down now." Zaphod jumped up, dropped the phone, and signed "Hot Black Diciato" on the bill. "Come on, guys," he said, "Marvin's in the parking lot. Let's get down." "What is he doing in the parking lot?" Arthur asked. "Stop the car, what else can you do? Let's go, let's go." "But what about the end of the universe? We will miss the greatest moment." "I've seen it before. Worth nothing," said Zaphod. "One kitten." "A what?" "It's just the opposite of the Big Bang; come on, let's find something else to do." They walk across the restaurant towards the exit, the other diners paying no attention.The eyes of these people have long been fixed on the terrifying sky landscape. "An interesting phenomenon worth observing," Max was telling them, "is in that fan in the upper left corner of the sky. If you look very closely, you can see the Hastelomir galaxy steaming into ultraviolet radiation .Is anyone here from Hastelomir?" From somewhere behind came a faint, hesitant cheer or two. "Well," Max said, smiling happily at them, "it seems too late to worry about whether you left the gas off."