Chapter 20

           Fivefigureswanderedslowlyovertheblightedland.Bitsofitweredullishgrey,bitsofitdullishbrown,therestofitratherlessinterestingtolookat.Itwaslikeadried-outmarsh,nowbarrenofallvegetationandcoveredwithalayerofdustaboutaninchthick.Itwasverycold.

           Zaphodwasclearlyratherdepressedaboutit.Hestalkedoffbyhimselfandwassoonlosttosightbehindaslightriseintheground.

           ThewindstungArthur’seyesandears,andthestalethinairclaspedhisthroat.However,thethingstungmostwashismind.

           "It’sfantastic…"hesaid,andhisownvoicerattledhisears.Soundcarriedbadlyinthisthinatmosphere.

           "Desolateholeifyouaskme,"saidFord."Icouldhavemorefuninacatlitter."Hefeltamountingirritation.OfalltheplanetsinallthestarsystemsofalltheGalaxy—didn’thejusthavetoturnupatadumplikethisafterfifteenyearsofbeingacastaway?Notevenahotdogstandinevidence.Hestoopeddownandpickedupacoldclotofearth,buttherewasnothingunderneathitworthcrossingthousandsoflightyearstolookat.

           "No,"insistedArthur,"don’tyouunderstand,thisisthefirsttimeI’veactuallystoodonthesurfaceofanotherplanet…awholealienworld…!Pityit’ssuchadumpthough."

           Trillianhuggedherself,shiveredandfrowned.Shecouldhaveswornshesawaslightandunexpectedmovementoutofthecornerofhereye,butwhensheglancedinthatdirectionallshecouldseewastheship,stillandsilent,ahundredyardsorsobehindthem.