Zaphod nodded. He took out his Peril Sensitive Sunglasses again. They were completely black, and by now quite badly scratched by the unexpected metal object in his pocket. He put them on. He would find his way down the building more comfortably if he didn’t actually have to look at what he was doing. Minutes later he clambered over the ripped and mangled foundations of the building and, once more removing his sunglasses, he dropped to the ground.
Marvin joined him a moment or so later and lay face down in the dust and rubble, from which position he seemed too disinclined to move.
“Ah, there you are,” said the voice suddenly in Zaphod’s ear, “excuse me leaving you like that, it’s just that I have a terrible head for heights. At least,” it added wistfully, “I did have a terrible head for heights.”
Zaphod looked around slowly and carefully, just to see if he had missed something which might be the source of the voice. All he saw, however, was the dust, the rubble and the towering hulks of the encircling buildings.
“Hey, er, why can’t I see you?” he said, “why aren’t you here?”
“I am here,” said the voice slowly, “my body wanted to come but it’s a bit busy at the moment. Things to do, people to see.” After what seemed like a sort of ethereal sigh it added, “You know how it is with bodies.”
Zaphod wasn’t sure about this.
“I thought I did,” he said.
“I only hope it’s gone for a rest cure,” continued the voice, “the way it’s been living recently it must be on its last elbows.”
“Elbows?” said Zaphod, “don’t you mean last legs?”
The voice said nothing for a while. Zaphod looked around uneasily. He didn’t know if it was gone or was still there or what it was doing. Then the voice spoke again.
“So, you are to be put into the Vortex, yes?”
“Er, well,” said Zaphod with a very poor attempt at nonchalance, “this cat’s in no hurry, you know. I can just slouch about and take in a look at the local scenery, you know?”
“Have you seen the local scenery?” asked the voice of Gargravarr.
“Er, no.”
Zaphod clambered over the rubble, and rounded the corner of one of the wrecked buildings that was obscuring his view.
He looked out at the landscape of Frogstar World B.
“Ah, OK,” he said, “I’ll just sort of slouch about then.”
“No,” said Gargravarr, “the Vortex is ready for you now. You must come. Follow me.”
“Er, yeah?” said Zaphod, “and how am I meant to do that?”
“I’ll hum for you,” said Gargravarr, “follow the humming.”
A soft keening sound drifted through the air, a pale, sad sound that seemed to be without any kind of focus. It was only by listening very carefully that Zaphod was able to detect the direction from which it was coming. Slowly, dazedly, he stumbled off in its wake. What else was there to do?