Chapter 7 chapter Five

Vogon Jerz wasn't very attractive, even to other Vogons.His striking hemispherical nose was raised far above his small, piggy-like forehead.The reason why he is what he is today is entirely because billions of years ago, the Vogons first slowly climbed up the primitive ocean of the planet Vogon, panting, and walked slowly on the uncultivated and wild beaches of the planet. Standing up slowly...On that very morning, the first rays of the young, bright Vogon sun shone upon them, but it seemed that the forces of evolution had abandoned them here and now, and these forces turned their heads away in disgust, leaving They were written off as ugly and unfortunate bugs.They haven't evolved since: they shouldn't have survived.

This fact, to some extent, just happens to inspire the stubborn will of these creatures.evolution?Who needs this, they say to themselves?What nature refused to give them, they did in a shorter time—they could already surgically repair all anatomical inconsistencies. Meanwhile, the forces of nature on Vogon are working overtime to make up for blunders made early on.They created crabs with jewel luster, and Vogons could smash crab shells with iron cones to get food: tall and straight trees, slender and gorgeous, Vogons could chop and cook crab meat; Gazelle-like creatures, with their silky fur and watery eyes, the Vogons could catch for chairs—they couldn't be used for transportation because their backs snapped so easily, but the Vogons still You can sit on it.

In this way, the Vogon planet passed away those unhappy tens of millions of years, until suddenly one day the Vogons discovered the principle of interstellar travel.Thus, in just a few Vogon years, the Vogons immigrated to the Great Brantes Star Cluster, the political center of the Milky Way, and have already built a powerful central skeleton of the Milky Way's administrative department until today.They tried to acquire learning, they tried to acquire elegance, but in fact, in most respects, there is not much difference between modern Vogons and their original ancestors.Every year, they import 27,000 jewel-toned crabs from their mother planet, smashing them with iron cones during a night of drunken revelry.

Because of his vulgarity, Vogon Jerz is a fairly typical Vogon.Plus, he hates Star Rover. In a darkened room aboard Vogon Jelz's flagship, a match was lit.The match's owner wasn't a Vogon, but he knew all about them, and he was nervous now.His name was Ford Prefect. Ford Prefect thanked the Danteras secretly.The Dentrasians are a difficult race to manage, gourmet-loving, savage but lovable, recently hired by the Vogons as cooks on their long-distance fleet.They were forgiven and allowed to maintain their independent qualities. Such a contract suits the Dentrasians well, as they love Vogon money, which is one of the hardest currencies in the universe, but loathe the Vogons themselves.The only Vogon they liked to see was a depressed Vogon.

It was this little piece of information that kept Ford Prefect from turning into a cloud of hydrogen, ozone, and carbon monoxide. He heard a soft moan.By the light of the match, he saw a heavy black shadow moving gently across the floor.So he quickly shook out the match, reached out and took out something from his pocket.He tore the thing open, shook it, and crouched down.The shadow continued to move. Ford Prefect said, "I brought some peanuts." Arthur Dent moved and groaned again, muttering incoherently at the same time. "Hey, come on," Ford persuaded, shaking the peanut in his hand again. "If you've never experienced a teleportation beam before, you may lose some salt and protein. The beer you drink will be slightly help."

"Hello... huh..." began Arthur Dent.He opened his eyes. "It's dark in here," he said. "Yes," said Ford Prefect, "it's dark in here." "There is no light," said Arthur Dent, "darkness, no light." There is a human habit that Ford Prefect always found difficult to understand, which is to repeat a very, very obvious fact, such as "It's a nice day today", or "You're so tall", or "Oh dear Yeah, you look like you fell into a 30-foot well, and you're all right"... At first, Ford thought he had a theory to explain this strange behavior: If humans didn't keep exercising their lips , he thought, their mouths might fail.After months of thinking and observing, though, he ditched that theory and moved on to a new one: If they didn't keep exercising their lips, he thought, their brains would start working.After some time, he abandoned this theory again.He figured it out, no matter what, he still liked humans very much.But at the same time, there are so many things that humans don't know, and he has been worried almost desperately about it.

"Yes," he echoed Arthur, "no light." He helped Arthur eat some peanuts. "How are you feeling?" he asked. "If I asked you where the hell we are," said Arthur weakly, "would I regret it?" Ford stood up. "We're safe now," he said. "Oh, that would be wonderful," said Arthur. "We're in a little kitchen," said Ford, "on a ship in Vogon's construction fleet." "Oh," said Arthur, "apparently that's a strange new use of the word 'safety' that I hadn't noticed before."

Ford struck another match to find the light switch.The huge and weird shadow began to shake vaguely again.Arthur folded his arms worriedly.Horrible shadows looked like they were about to rush at him, and there was a thick musty smell in the air, all indiscriminately getting into his lungs, and the low, irritating hum made him completely distracted. "How did we get here?" he asked, trembling slightly. "We took an elevator," replied Ford. "What?" said Arthur. "Are you going to tell me we just stuck our thumbs up and a green monster with worm eyes poked its head out and said 'Hey man, jump on it, I can show you guys Carousel'?"

"Well, how should I put it," said Ford, "what you call the 'thumb' is actually a sub-ether signaling device, and the 'carousel' is Barnard's Star six light-years away. However, from From a certain point of view, what you said is almost right." "What about monsters with worm eyes?" "Yes, it's green." "Well," said Arthur, "when can I go home?" "You can't," said Ford Prefect, finding the light switch. "Close your eyes..." he said, turning on the light. What happened next surprised even Ford.

"My God," said Arthur, "is this really the inside of a flying saucer?" The green figure of Vogon Jelz appeared on the ship's control bridge.After destroying an inhabited planet, he usually feels a kind of inexplicable irritability.At times like this, he always wishes someone would come up to him and accuse him of doing everything wrong, and then he could shoot the guy and make him feel better.He slammed into his seat, hoping the thing would break, which would give him an excuse to throw a tantrum, only to have the seat squeak like a complaint. "Go away!" he yelled at a young Vogon guard who happened to be entering the control bridge at that moment.The guard disappeared in an instant, as if he had been pardoned, and he was very happy that he was no longer the one who reported the report they had just received.The report was an official document informing that a new type of craft had been demonstrated at a government research base on Damon Glenn, making all hyperspace fast lanes unnecessary.

Another door was pushed open, but this time the Vogon captain didn't yell, for it led into the galley where the Dentrasians were preparing his lunch.A good lunch is perhaps most welcome at this time. A huge, hairy creature stepped through the door, holding his lunch tray.The guy laughed like a madman. Vogon Jelz became very happy when he gave birth.He knew that when a Dantrasian looked happy like this, it meant that somewhere on this ship something had happened that would make him very angry. Ford and Arthur looked around them. "Well, what do you think?" Ford asked. "It's kind of dirty, isn't it?" Ford frowned at the messy mattresses, unwashed glasses, and indistinguishable smelly underwear beside him. "Oh, as you can see, it's clearly a work boat," said Ford. "These are supposed to be the berths where Danteras sleeps." "I think you said they were called Vogons or something." "Yes," said Ford, "the Vogons piloted the ship, and the Dentrasians were the cooks; they were the ones who put us on board." "You're confusing me," said Arthur. "Come here and look at this," said Ford.He sat down on a mattress and began rummaging through his backpack.Arthur poked nervously at the mattress and sat down too.In fact, he doesn't need to be so nervous at all, because all these mattresses have been thoroughly sterilized before use. Ford handed the book to Arthur. "What's this?" Arthur asked. ".It's an e-book. It tells you anything you want to know. That's what it does." Arthur turned the book nervously in his hand. "I love the cover," he said, "'Don't panic.' Finally someone said something useful or wise to me all day." "Let me show you how it works," Ford said.He snatched the book from Arthur, who had just carefully removed the book from the cover. "Press this button here, and lo and behold, the screen lights up and shows the index." The screen, about three inches long by four inches wide, gradually lit up and letters began to flash across it. "You want to know about the Vogons, you can enter this name now." As he spoke, his fingers began to tap the keys, "Okay." And so the words "Vogon Construction Fleet" flashed green on the screen. Ford pressed a big red button at the bottom of the screen, and sentence after sentence began to flash across the screen.At the same time, the e-book begins to read the sentences aloud in a calm, measured voice.The text reads: "Vogon Construction Fleet, if you hope to get rid of a Vogon, the only way to do it is: forget about it. They are one of the most unpleasant races in the galaxy - not inherently evil, But bad tempered, bureaucratic, nosy and ruthless. Without a duly signed order in triplicate, they wouldn't even lift a finger to save their own grandmother from the ravenous Trall monster . "The best way to make a Vogon spit out his drink is to poke your finger down his throat, and the best way to piss him off is to feed his grandmother to a ravenous Trall monster. "Never let a Vogon read poetry to you," Arthur blinked at the book. "It's a strange book. So how do we get rid of it?" "That's the crux of the matter. It's outdated now," said Ford, tucking the book back into the cover. "I'm doing field research for a new revision, and one of the things I have to do is It's enough to summarize how the Vogons currently employ Danteras as cooks, and it allows us to discover a rather useful little loophole." Another look of pain crossed Arthur's face. "But who are the Danteras?" he asked. "Some amazing guys," Ford said, "they're the best cooks, the best bartenders. Also, they're often helping the Star Rover get a ride on the ship, partly because they like these guys, but Mostly because they hate Vogons. If you're a poor wanderer looking to visit the wonders of the universe for less than 30 Altair a day, this information is an absolute must-know. And it's My situation. Interesting, isn't it?" Arthur looked lost. "Yeah, interesting," he said, frowning at the other mattress. "Unfortunately, I was stuck on the earth for far longer than I expected." Ford said, "I planned to stay for a week, but I actually stayed for 15 years." He just lay down and put his hands behind his head, looking like he was enjoying himself. "Ford," Arthur continued, "I don't care if this question sounds stupid, but can you tell me what the hell I'm doing here?" "Well, you should know," said Ford, "I saved you from this earth." "What happened to Earth?" "Oh, it was destroyed." "Really?" said Arthur nonchalantly. "Yes. It just evaporated from the universe." "You see," said Arthur, "I'm a little annoyed by that." Ford frowned, looking - as though he were sorting out his thoughts. "Yes, I can understand," he said finally. "You understand!" cried Arthur, "you understand!" Ford jumped to his feet. "Keep reading for me!" He hissed eagerly. "what?" "Don't panic." "I'm not panicking!" "Sure, you're panicking." "Well, even if I panic, what else can we do?" "Just follow me and have a good time. It's actually pretty fun in the galaxy. By the way, you gotta put this fish in your ear." "Excuse me, what did you say?" Arthur asked, feeling polite this time. Ford was holding a small glass jar, and he could clearly see a small yellow fish swimming in it.Arthur began to wink at him.He longs for something simple and recognizable enough that he can grasp it.Beside these Dentrasian underpants, this mass of mattresses, and this man from Betelgeuse with a fish to put in his ear, he would not will feel safer.But this is impossible, so he can't find a sense of security. Suddenly, a wild cry came, and he couldn't judge the direction.It sounded like a man grunting from his throat while fighting a pack of wolves, and it frightened him. "Hush!" said Ford, "Listen, this might be important." "Heavy...important?" "This is Captain Vogon announcing something over the loudspeaker." "You mean the sound is the Vogon language?" "listen!" "But I don't understand Vogon at all!" "You don't need to understand. You just need to put this fish in your ear." Ford made a slight movement and put his hand on Arthur's ear, and Arthur felt sickly the fish sliding deep into his auditory opening.Out of an instinctive fear, he grabbed his ears and shook for a long time, but gradually his eyes widened in surprise.If he used vision to describe his hearing at the moment, it would be that he seemed to be looking at a painting with two black silhouettes of faces, but the painting suddenly turned into a white candlestick.Or, looking at many colored dots drawn on a piece of paper, they suddenly form the number "6".If something like this happens to your eyes, your optician will charge you a fortune for a new pair of glasses. He was still listening to the grunting howl, and now he knew it, only then could it be expressed in very plain English. The following is what he heard... (To be continued, scan again tomorrow) Attachment: Explanation of terms President: The full name is "President of the Galactic Empire Government". The word "empire" has been used all the time, but it is actually an anachronistic mistake.The hereditary emperor has been dead for centuries.All of his descendants are also long dead, which means that power was simply and effectively devolved without major political upheaval, and is now in the hands of an entity that previously only played the role of advisor to the Emperor Hands - An elected government council headed by a president elected by that council.But in reality, the power does not rest here. The president is actually just a figurehead—he has no substantive power. On the surface, he seems to be elected by the government, but he is not asked to be in charge of the real decision-making position, but the atrocities that have already been decided. It is for this reason that the president has always been a controversial figure, always infuriating and seductive.His job is not to hold power, but to draw attention away from it.In this sense, Zaphod Beeblebrox is one of the most successful presidents in the history of the galaxy - he has already spent 2 of his 10-year presidency in prison for fraud, with very few of people realize that the president and the government have no substantive power at all, and only 6 of them know where the ultimate political power lies.Most of the rest secretly believe that the final decision-making process is controlled by a computer.At this point, they are undoubtedly very wrong. Ford Prefect's original name can only be pronounced in an obscure dialect of Betelgeuse, but this dialect became extinct after the cataclysm of the alien body collapse in the galactic year 03758.That disaster hit the tribe on the 7th star of the Betelgeuse galaxy, and Ford's father became the only survivor on the entire planet because of a coincidence that he could not explain clearly.The whole thing is rather mysterious: No one actually knows what the foreign body is, or why it chose to collapse on Betelgeuse 7, exactly.Later, Ford's father came to live on the 5th star of the Betelgeuse galaxy. In order to commemorate his extinct race, he named his son with an ancient dialect. Since Ford never learned to pronounce his original name, his father died in disgrace—it's still a disease in some parts of the galaxy, and other kids at school nicknamed Ford Ix, which in reference to In the language of Betelgeuse 5, it means "does not satisfactorily explain what the foreign object is, or why it would just choose the boy who collapsed on Betelgeuse 7".