"Douglas Adams - 3 - Life, the Universe, and Everything" - читать интересную книгу автора (Adams Douglas)

Life, the Universe, and Everything

Douglas Adams

---------------------------------------------------------------
For Sally
---------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 1

The regular early morning yell of horror was the sound of Arthur Dent
waking up and suddenly remembering where he was.
It wasn't just that the cave was cold, it wasn't just that it was damp and
smelly. It was the fact that the cave was in the middle of Islington and there
wasn't a bus due for two million years.
Time is the worst place, so to speak, to get lost in, as Arthur Dent could
testify, having been lost in both time and space a good deal. At least being
lost in space kept you busy.
He was stranded in prehistoric Earth as the result of a complex sequence
of events which had involved him being alternately blown up and insulted in
more bizarre regions of the Galaxy than he ever dreamt existed, and though his
life had now turned very, very, very quiet, he was still feeling jumpy.
He hadn't been blown up now for five years.
Since he had hardly seen anyone since he and Ford Prefect had parted
company four years previously, he hadn't been insulted in all that time
either.
Except just once.
It had happened on a spring evening about two years previously.
He was returning to his cave just a little after dusk when he became aware
of lights flashing eerily through the clouds. He turned and stared, with hope
suddenly clambering through his heart. Rescue. Escape. The castaway's
impossible dream - a ship.
And as he watched, as he stared in wonder and excitement, a long silver
ship descended through the warm evening air, quietly, without fuss, its long
legs unlocking in a smooth ballet of technology.
It alighted gently on the ground, and what little hum it had generated
died away, as if lulled by the evening calm.
A ramp extended itself.
Light streamed out.
A tall figure appeared silhouetted in the hatchway. It walked down the
ramp and stood in front of Arthur.
"You're a jerk, Dent," it said simply.
It was alien, very alien. It had a peculiar alien tallness, a peculiar
alien flattened head, peculiar slitty little alien eyes, extravagantly draped
golden ropes with a peculiarly alien collar design, and pale grey-green alien
skin which had about it that lustrous shine which most grey-green faces can
only acquire with plenty of exercise and very expensive soap.
Arthur boggled at it.
It gazed levelly at him.