"Douglas Adams - 2 - The Restaurant at the End of the Universe" - читать интересную книгу автора (Adams Douglas)

and stared at the monitor screen on which the starship Heart of Gold was being
systematically scanned.
It mattered little to him that the Heart of Gold, with its Infinite
Improbability Drive, was the most beautiful and revolutionary ship ever built.
Aesthetics and technology were closed books to him and, had he had his way,
burnt and buried books as well.
It mattered even less to him that Zaphod Beeblebrox was aboard. Zaphod
Beeblebrox was now the ex-President of the Galaxy, and though every police
force in the Galaxy was currently pursuing both him and this ship he had
stolen, the Vogon was not interested.
He had other fish to fry.
It has been said that Vogons are not above a little bribery and corruption
in the same way that the sea is not above the clouds, and this was certainly
true in his case. When he heard the words "integrity" or "moral rectitude", he
reached for his dictionary, and when he heard the chink of ready money in
large quantities he reached for the rule book and threw it away.
In seeking so implacably the destruction of the Earth and all that therein
lay he was moving somewhat above and beyond the call of his professional duty.
There was even some doubt as to whether the said bypass was actually going to
be built, but the matter had been glossed over.
He grunted a repellent grunt of satisfaction.
"Computer," he croaked, "get me my brain care specialist on the line."
Within a few seconds the face of Gag Halfrunt appeared on the screen,
smiling the smile of a man who knew he was ten light years away from the Vogon
face he was looking at. Mixed up somewhere in the smile was a glint of irony
too. Though the Vogon persistently referred to him as "my private brain care
specialist" there was not a lot of brain to take care of, and it was in fact
Halfrunt who was employing the Vogon. He was paying him an awful lot of money
to do some very dirty work. As one of the Galaxy's most prominent and
successful psychiatrists, he and a consortium of his colleagues were quite
prepared to spend an awful lot of money when it seemed that the entire future
of psychiatry might be at stake.
"Well," he said, "hello my Captain of Vogons Prostetnic, and how are we
feeling today?"
The Vogon captain told him that in the last few hours he had wiped out
nearly half his crew in a disciplinary exercise.
Halfrunt's smile did not flicker for an instant.
"Well," he said, "I think this is perfectly normal behaviour for a Vogon,
you know? The natural and healthy channelling of the aggressive instincts into
acts of senseless violence."
"That," rumbled the Vogon, "is what you always say."
"Well again," said Halfrunt, "I think that this is perfectly normal
behaviour for a psychiatrist. Good. We are clearly both very well adjusted in
our mental attitudes today. Now tell me, what news of the mission?"
"We have located the ship."
"Wonderful," said Halfrunt, "wonderful! and the occupants?"
"The Earthman is there."
"Excellent! And ...?"
"A female from the same planet. They are the last."
"Good, good," beamed Halfrunt, "Who else?"