Chapter 32 Chapter Thirty-Two

There was a thin whimper in the air, and the sound swirled through the woods, disturbing the squirrels.Several birds flew away in disgust.The sound danced and flew around the clearing.It's loud, it's harsh, it's annoying. The captain, however, looked indulgently at the lonely piper.Almost nothing can disturb the captain's composure.His luxurious bathtub had been lost in that unpleasant swamp experience a few months earlier: since then he has been searching for a new way of life that suits his character.A hole had been shoveled out of a boulder that stood in the middle of the clearing, in which he would lie in the sun every day while his followers poured water on him.Of course not hot water.This had to be pointed out because he hadn't thought of a way to heat the water yet.But that's okay, hot water will always be there, search parties are looking for hot springs in the distance, hope it's in a leafy glade, and if it's near a soap mine - that's just perfect, some people say, they think Soap doesn't come from ore.For such people, the captain said, perhaps it was because no one had looked hard enough, and they had to grudgingly admit the possibility.

No, life is very good, the great event of which is when the hot springs are discovered, followed by the leafy clearings, and if at this very moment there are shouts of soap mines being found from the nearby hills, where one day To produce five hundred bars of soap—that would be even more wonderful.In short, it is very important to have something to look forward to. Crying, screaming, wailing, roaring, trumpets, bagpipes, and the thought that they might stop at any time, all of these added to Captain Ding's already quite happy mood.This is also one of his hopes. What else is there to enjoy' he asked himself.Well, there are many things: autumn is approaching and the trees are turning red and gold; a few feet from his tub, two hairdressers are practicing their Technology, the peaceful scraping sound of the scissors; the half-dozen telephones lined up along the edge of his stone-hewn tub, the sun shining on them with pleasant reflections.There's only one thing better than one phone that never rings (or never rings), and that's six phones that don't ring (or never ring at all).

Best of all were those happy hums that meant all the hundreds of people were slowly gathering around him in the clearing to watch the afternoon committee meeting. The captain happily punched the rubber duck in the beak.Afternoon committee meetings are his favourite. There were other eyes staring at the gathered crowd.High up in a tree at the edge of the clearing squatted Prefect Ford.He just came back from another area recently.After six months of traveling, he was skinny but healthy.His eyes sparkled, and he wore a suit of reindeer hide.He had a bushy beard, and his face was tanned like a rockabilly singer's.

He and Arthur Dent had been watching the Golga Flinthams for a week.Ford decided it was time to stir up some trouble. The empty lot is now full.Hundreds of men and women lolled about, talking, eating fruit, playing cards, and generally quite relaxed.Their striped shirts are all dirty now, some even torn, but they all have neatly trimmed hair.Many of them, Ford wondered, had their striped shirts covered with leaves.Not sure if this is for keeping warm for the coming winter.Ford's eyes narrowed.They couldn't have suddenly taken an interest in collisionology, could they?Will they? Just as he was thinking, the captain's voice emerged from the commotion.

"Well," he said, "I've called this meeting to lay down certain rules, if that's possible. How are you all?" He smiled kindly. "Just a minute. Wait until you're ready." Let's talk." The whispers died away, and the clearing fell into silence, save for the bagpiper, who seemed lost in some wild, inhospitable musical world of his own.Some people next to him threw a few leaves at him.I don't know the reason for doing this, but Mr. Ford can't think of it anyway. A small group of people swarmed around the captain, one of whom was clearly about to speak.He stood up, cleared his throat, and looked away, as if telling people that he would be with them in a minute.

The crowd was certainly attracted, and they all turned their eyes to him. A moment of silence followed.Fuchu judged that this was the right dramatic moment, and he could enter.The man turned around, ready to speak. Ford jumped from the tree. "Hi everyone," he said. The crowd turned. "Oh, my dear fellow," cried the captain, "have you got a match, or a lighter--anything of that kind!" "No," said Ford, sounding discouraged.This opening remark was too far from what he had prepared, so he decided to be tougher on this issue. "No, I haven't," he continued. "No matches. But I have news for you..."

"What a pity," said the captain, "we've run out of supplies. You see, haven't had a hot bath in weeks." Ford ignored his interruption. "I have brought you news," he said, "of a discovery which may interest you." "Is it on the agenda?" snapped the man Ford had interrupted. Ford smiled exactly like a rockabilly singer. "Now add it, no!" he said. "Oh, I'm sorry," the man huffed, "but as a long-time management consultant, I must draw attention to the importance of committee charters." Ford looked around the crowd.

"He's mad, but you know," he said, "we're on a prehistoric planet." "Please turn to the rostrum first and ask for the floor!" The management consultant snapped again. "There's no podium here," Ford explained, "just one rock." The management consultant decided that the situation called for a bit of brusqueness "Call it a podium!" he said gruffly. "Why not call it a stone?" asked Ford. "When it comes to modern business," says the management consultant, now that he's given up his brutality for old-fashioned arrogance, "you obviously have no idea."

"You, on the other hand, have no idea where you are at the moment," Ford said. A girl with a harsh voice jumped out. "Shut up, you two," she said. "I want to make a motion." "You mean forming a motion," snickered a hairdresser. "Submit, submit!" shouted the management consultant. "Okay," said Ford, "let's see how you do it." Then he sat down on the ground, trying to see how long he could hold his temper. The captain made a conciliatory hum, "I like to call this a submission," he said pleasantly, "the 573rd meeting of the Fentwood Vickers Colonial Council."

Ten o'clock, thought Ford, jumping up again. "It's futile to say that," he declared. "It's been 573 committee meetings and you haven't even found a fire!" "Please," the girl screamed harshly, "check the agenda—" "Agenda stones," the hairdresser called happily. "Thanks, I pointed that out," grumbled Ford. "You'll... see," the girl continued firmly, "that we'll be considering a report today from the Subcommittee on Hairdressers Developing Fire Sources." "Oh, oh--" The hairdresser had the look of embarrassment that he knew all over the galaxy, and it meant "Well, we'll talk about it next Tuesday, okay?"

"Okay then," said Ford, circling him, "what have you guys done? What else are you going to do? What do you think about developing fire sources?" "Well, I don't know," said the hairdresser, "all they gave me was two sticks..." "So, what did you do with them?" The hairdresser fumbled nervously with his striped fir before handing over the fruits of his labor to Ford. Ford held them up for all to see. "Curling irons," he said. The crowd burst into applause. "Never mind," said Ford, "Rome wasn't built in a day." No one had the slightest idea what he meant, but they liked it nonetheless.So they start clapping. "Hmph, you're obviously totally naive about this," said the girl, "If you've spent as much time in the marketing department as I have, you'll know that any new product has to be properly researched before it's developed. : We must first find out what people hope to get from a product like fire, how much fire has to do with them, what kind of imagination do they have about fire, and so on.” People were getting tense, expecting something special from Ford. "Put fire up your nose," he said. "That's all we have to know exactly," the girl went on. "Do people want fire to smell?" "Do you want to?" Ford asked the crowd. "Yes!" some shouted. "No!" shouted another group happily. They don't know it, they just think it's fun. "And wheels," said the captain. "What about wheels? It sounds like a very interesting subject." "Oh," said the marketing girl, "we're having a bit of trouble," "Difficult," cried Ford, "difficult, what do you mean, difficult! It's the simplest machine in the whole universe!" The girl from the marketing department gave him a dissatisfied look: "Well then, Mr. Smart," she said, "since you're so smart, please tell us what color it should be." The crowd went wild.The team scores, they want.Ford shrugged and sat down again. "Zakun Almighty," he said, "can't you do something?" As if answering his question, there was a sudden commotion from the entrance of the clearing.The crowd could hardly believe how much fun they had this afternoon: there appeared about {' a few men, lined up in a squad, wearing the frayed uniforms of Golga Flintham's I Regiment.Half of them still carried evaporative bombardment guns, and the rest carried spears, which they held together in the air as they marched.They all looked dark and healthy, just exhausted and dirty.They stopped in unison with a loud bang.One of them fell and never moved again. "Captain, sir!" cried Number Two--their leader--"permission to report, sir!" "Okay, number two, welcome back. Have you found the hot spring," the captain asked dejectedly. "No, sir!" "I expected you wouldn't find it." Number Two strode through the crowd to the front of the tub, "We found another continent!" "When did you find out'" "It's across the sea..." Number Two Dui, his eyes narrowed meaningfully into a narrow slit, "It's on the east side!" "Oh." Number two turned to face the crowd, he raised his gun above his head, and a better show was about to begin, and people thought, "We have declared war on them!" Wild cheers erupted from all corners of the clearing - the entertainment exceeded all expectations. "Wait a minute," cried Prefect Ford, "wait a moment!" He jumped up and asked everyone to be quiet, and after a while, he got quiet, or at least the most quiet state he could hope for in this environment: this environment means that a Feng Tiao player in Bei is performing a solid song : "Do we have to have this bagpiper?" asked Gott: "Oh, yes," said the captain, "we've given him permission to play." Ford wanted to open up the topic and argue, but he immediately realized that this was crazy.So he chose a moderately sized pebble, threw it at the bagpiper, and then turned to face number two. "War!" he said. "Yes!" Number 2 looked at Officer Ford contemptuously, "On the neighboring continent?" "Yes! Total conflict! A war that will end all wars!" "But no one lives there yet!" Oh, interesting, people think, that's a good idea. Number Two's eyes circled calmly.That is, his eyes are like two mosquitoes, hovering maliciously three inches from your nose, and they won't leave no matter what you do with your hands. "I know that," he said, "but one day, there will be someone up there! So we left an ultimatum with no deadline." "what?" "And blew up some military installations." The captain leaned out of his tub. "Military installation, number two," he asked. For a moment the eyes wavered. "Yes, sir, a potential military installation. Well, it's actually a tree." The brief vacillation passed—his eyes swept across his audience like whips again. "And," he roared, "we interrogated a gazelle!" He flipped the evaporative bomber under his arm, and walked forward through the noisy crowd.This uproar broke out here and there among the ecstatic crowd.He took only a few steps before he was lifted up by those who had caught up from behind, and made a glorious parade around the clearing. Ford sat on the ground, slapping two stones lazily. "What else did you guys do?" he asked after the festivities died down. "We started a cultural business," said the marketing girl. "Oh, yes?" said Ford, "Yes. One of our filmmakers is working on a fascinating A self-documented film about the indigenous cavemen of this land. " "They're not cavemen." "But they look like cavemen." "Do they live in caves?" "Ok……" "They live in a shed." "Maybe their cave is being redecorated," one of the crowd's jokers called out Ford turned and glared at him angrily. "That's funny," he said, "but have you noticed? They're going extinct!" On the way back here, Ford and Arthur passed through two abandoned villages, and in the woods there were still many bodies of aborigines who had escaped and died here.Those who were still alive looked terrified, their eyes glazed over, as if they were suffering more spiritual suffering than physical pain: they moved sluggishly, mournfully.Their future has been taken from them. "Extinction!" repeated Ford, "do you know what that means?" "Well...we can't sell them life insurance anymore," the clown fork yelled. Ford ignored him and appealed to the crowd. "Can you spend a little time trying to understand this?" he said. "They are extinct just because of our arrival!" "That's actually very well done in that movie," said the marketing girl, "and it gives it a sense of anguish that's the hallmark of a really great documentary. The filmmaker put all his energy into it." blood." "Why isn't he dead when he's exhausted?" murmured Ford. "I guess," said the girl, as she ran up to the captain, who was already napping, "that he wants to make a movie about you next, Captain." "Oh, is it?" he said, regaining consciousness, "that would be wonderful." "He's found a very powerful angle on, you know, the burden of responsibility, the loneliness of leadership" The captain snorted. "Well, I'm not going to overemphasize that angle, you know," he said at last. "A man is never alone with a rubber duck for company," He held the duck aloft, and it too was passed around by the grateful crowd. All this time, the management consultant had been sitting quietly on the stone, fingertips pressed to his temples, as if waiting for something, and would wait all day if necessary. And right now, he decides that he won't wait all day after all, he just has to pretend that Zhe didn't exist for half an hour. He stood up. "If," he said succinctly, "we can temporarily shift the discussion to fiscal policy..." "Fiscal policy!" cried Prefect Ford. "Fiscal policy!" The management consultant took a quick look at him, only a lungfish can have that kind of obedience. "Fiscal policy," he repeated, "I mean." "If none of you actually produce anything," Ford asked, "how do you get money? You know, money doesn't grow on trees." "If you allow me to continue" Ford nodded dejectedly. "Thanks. Since we decided to make the leaves a legal payment a few weeks ago, of course we all became very rich:" Ford stared in disbelief at the crowd, who were muttering gleefully about the incident and pointing greedily at the piles of leaves that adorned their striped shirts. "However, at the same time," the management consultant went on, "we also ran into a small inflation problem, because the leaves are so easy to get. This means that, according to my guess, there are currently about 3 deciduous forests. To buy a spaceship." There were horrified grunts from the crowd.The management consultant waved them to be quiet. "So, in order to fix that," he continued, "and effectively revalue the leaves, we're about to start a massive leaf fall campaign, and... well, burn all the forests, and I think you're all going to Agreed, in the present circumstances, it is a sensible course of action," For a moment, people seemed uncertain about the issue, until someone pointed out how much it would add value to their pockets of leaves: and the crowd erupted in cheers, a standing ovation for the management consultant!The accountants among them are already foreseeing a lucrative fall...   "You're all crazy," cried Prefect Ford. "You're absolutely out of your mind!" he pointed out: "You are simply a bunch of lunatics talking nonsense." He expressed his opinion, The tide of opinion began to turn, and the crowd turned against him.What started out as brilliant music in people's eyes has now become abusive, and directed at them.So, they start to get bored. Sensing this change in the air, the marketing girl turned to him. "Perhaps it is necessary to ask, what have you been doing these months? Since the day we arrived, you and another intruder have disappeared," "We took a trip," Ford said, "and we tried to find out something about the planet." "Oh," said the girl slyly, "doesn't that sound very fruitful." "No? Well, let me tell you some news, dear. We have discovered the future of this planet." He continued: "Whatever you choose to do from now on will be worth less than the kidneys of a pair of smelly dingoes. Burning the forest, or anything else, will make no difference. Your future history has already happened, and you have two million years left, that's all. After this time, your race will perish. It is a relief for you to perish. Remember this, two hundred Ten thousand years!" The crowd began to murmur annoyedly about it.Suddenly rich people don't think they should be forced to listen to such gibberish.Maybe they tip the guy a leaf or two and let him go. In fact, they don't have to worry about this.Kurt had already begun to leave the open space, he only paused when he saw No. 2, shook his head and sighed, because No. 2 had already started firing at the nearby woods with a vapor bombardment gun. He turned his head. "Two million years!" he laughed. "Oh," said the captain, smiling calmly. "There's still time for a few more baths. Can someone pass me the sponge?"I just dropped it"