The battle raged on about the star of Xaxis. Hundreds of the fierce and horribly beweaponed Zirzla ships had now been smashed and wrenched to atoms by the withering forces the huge silver Xaxisian ship was able to deploy.
Part of the moon had gone too, blasted away by those same blazing force guns that ripped the very fabric of space as they passed through it.
The Zirzla ships that remained, horribly beweaponed though they were, were now hopelessly outclassed by the devastating power of the Xaxisian ship, and were fleeing for cover behind the rapidly disintegrating moon, when the Xaxisian ship, in hurtling pursuit behind them, suddenly announced that it needed a holiday and left the field of battle.
All was redoubled fear and consternation for a moment, but the ship was gone.
With the stupendous powers at its command it flitted across vast tracts of irrationally shaped space, quickly, effortlessly, and above all, quietly.
Deep in his greasy, smelly bunk, fashioned out of a maintenance hatchway, Ford Prefect slept among his towels, dreaming of old haunts. He dreamed at one point in his slumbers of New York.
In his dream he was walking late at night along the East Side, beside the river which had become so extravagantly polluted that new lifeforms were now emerging from it spontaneously, demanding welfare and voting rights.
One of those now floated past, waving. Ford waved back.
The thing thrashed to the shore and struggled up the bank.
Hi, it said, I’ve just been created. I’m completely new to the Universe in all respects. Is there anything you can tell me?
Phew, said Ford, a little nonplussed, I can tell you where some bars are, I guess.
What about love and happiness. I sense deep needs for things like that, it said, waving its tentacles. Got any leads there?
You can get some like what you require, said Ford, on Seventh Avenue.
I instinctively feel, said the creature, urgently, that I need to be beautiful. Am I?
You’re pretty direct, aren’t you?
No point in mucking about. Am I?
To me? said Ford. No. But listen, he added after a moment, most people make out, you know. Are there and like you down there?
Search me, buster, said the creature, as I said, I’m new here. Life is entirely strange to me. What’s it like?
Here was something that Ford felt he could speak about with authority.
Life, he said, is like a grapefruit.
Er, how so?
Well, it’s sort of orangey-yellow and dimpled on the outside, wet and squidgy in the middle. It’s got pips inside, too. Oh, and some people have half a one for breakfast.
Is there anyone else out there I can talk to?
I expect so, said Ford. Ask a policeman.
Deep in his bunk, Ford Prefect wriggled and turned on to his other side. It wasn’t his favourite type of dream because it didn’t have Eccentrica Gallumbits, the Triple-Breasted Whore of Eroticon VI in it, whom many of his dreams did feature. But at least it was a dream. At least he was asleep.
爱克西斯星的战斗如火如荼地进行着。上百艘凶悍可怖的武装齐尔拉战舰被庞大的银色爱克西斯战舰配备的毁灭原力粉碎肢解成了原子形态。
月亮的一部分也没了。就是那撕裂织物一般薄弱的宇宙空间的耀眼原力炮所发射的能量在穿过月亮时把它轰飞了。
残余的齐尔拉战舰，尽管全副武装，如今却无助地被爱克西斯战舰的淫威所压制，逃到正迅速碎裂的月亮后面寻求掩护，而此时，当爱克西斯战舰正全速追击他们时，突然宣称自己该放假了然后就离开了战场。
大家全都更加地恐慌惊愕，但是那战舰确实已经走了。
凭借自己掌控的惊人力量，它就这样穿过了庞大广阔的不规则空间，迅速、轻松，而且最重要的是，安静。
在他那油腻腻臭烘烘的由维修通道改造的铺位上，福特.普里弗克特睡在他的毛巾里，梦见过去的老地方。他一度梦见了纽约。
在梦里，他深夜里走在纽约东部的贫民区，就在河边。那条河污染得如此过度以至于新的生命体正从它那里自然而然地孕育而生，要求福利和投票权。
其中一个生命体漂过，向他招手。福特回礼。
那个东西向岸边逆流而上然后挣扎着上了陆地。
“嗨，”它说，“我刚被创造出来。我对宇宙的方方面面都是新手。你有啥可以告诉我的吗？”
“哟，”福特有点小困惑地说，“我想，我能告诉你哪儿有酒吧。”
“那么爱和幸福呢。我感知到了对这种东西深深的需求，”它说着，挥动自己的触角。“有啥指导么？”
“你可以搞到一些类似的东西，”福特说，“在第七大道（注）。”
“我本能地觉着，”那个生物急促地说，“我需要变漂亮。是不？”
“你真直接，不是么？”
“没必要闲扯。是不？”
“对我？”福特说。“没必要。但是听着，”他顿了一会儿补充说，“大多数人就这样得过且过了，你要明白。河底下还有你这样儿的么？”
“我咋知道，大个儿，”那个生物说，“我刚才说了，我在这儿还是个新人。整个生活对我而言都很奇异。那是啥样子的？”
这是福特觉得某个可以发表权威意见的东西。
“生活，”他说，“就像个柚子。”
“呃，怎么会？”
“好吧，这东西的褶皱外皮是某种橙黄色的，中间又软又湿。里面也有籽。哦，而且一些人早餐会吃半个那东西。”
“外面还有什么别的人我能交谈么？”
“我认为有，”福特说，“问个警察吧。”
在他的铺位深处，福特.普里弗克特把身子扭到了另一侧。这不是他喜欢的那种梦，因为里面没有伊森翠卡.嘎卢比茨，那个色欲六号星上的三乳妓女，她是他很多梦里的重要部分。但至少这是个梦。至少他睡着了。