“Yes,” he said, “look, the infra-pink lizard emblem on the neutrino cowling. Lazlar’s trade mark. The man has no shame.”
“I was passed by one of these mothers once, out by the Axel Nebula,” said Ford, “I was going flat out and this thing just strolled past me, star drive hardly ticking over. Just incredible.”
Zaphod whistled appreciatively.
“Ten seconds later”, said Ford, “it smashed straight into the third moon of Jaglan Beta.”
“Yeah, right?”
“Amazing looking ship though. Looks like a fish, moves like a fish, steers like a cow.”
Ford looked round the other side.
“Hey, come and see,” he called out, “there’s a big mural painted on this side. A bursting sun Disaster Area’s trade mark. This must be Hotblack’s ship. Lucky old bugger. They do this terrible song you know which ends with a stuntship crashing into the sun. Meant to be an amazing spectacle. Expensive in stunt ships though.”
Zaphod’s attention however was elsewhere. His attention was riveted on the ship standing next to Hotblack Desiato’s limo. His mouths hung open.
“That,” he said, “that… is really bad for the eyes…”
Ford looked. He too stood astonished.
It was a ship of classic, simple design, like a flattened salmon, twenty yards long, very clean, very sleek. There was just one remarkable thing about it.
“It’s so… black!” said Ford Prefect, “you can hardly make out its shape… light just seems to fall into it!”
Zaphod said nothing. He had simply fallen in love.
The blackness of it was so extreme that it was almost impossible to tell how close you were standing to it.
“Your eyes just slide off it…” said Ford in wonder. It was an emotional moment. He bit his lip.
Zaphod moved forward to it, slowly, like a man possessed or more accurately like a man who wanted to possess. His hand reached out to stroke it. His hand stopped. His hand reached out to stroke it again. His hand stopped again.
“Come and feel the surface,” he said in a hushed voice.
Ford put his hand out to feel it. His hand stopped.
“You… you can’t…” he said.
“See?” said Zaphod, “it’s just totally frictionless. This must be one mother of a mover…”
He turned to look at Ford seriously. At least, one of his heads did the other stayed gazing in awe at the ship.
“What do you reckon, Ford?” he said.
“You mean… er…” Ford looked over his shoulder. “You mean stroll off with it? You think we should?”
“No.”
“Nor do I.”
“But we’re going to, aren’t we?”
“How can we not?”
They gazed a little longer, till Zaphod suddenly pulled himself together.
“We better shift soon,” he said. “In a moment or so the Universe will have ended and all the Captain Creeps will be pouring down here to find their bourge-mobiles.”
“Zaphod,” said Ford.
“Yeah?”
“How do we do it?”
“Simple,” said Zaphod. He turned. “Marvin!” he called.
Slowly, laboriously, and with a million little clanking and creaking noises that he had learned to simulate, Marvin turned round to answer the summons.
“Come on over here,” said Zaphod, “We’ve got a job for you.”
Marvin trudged towards them.
“I won’t enjoy it,” he said.