‘I am your new editor-in-chief. That is, if we decide to retain your services. My name is Vann Harl.’ He didn’t put his hand out. He just added, ‘What have you done to that security robot?’

“我是你的新主编。也就是说，假设我们决定雇用你的话。我叫范.哈尔。”他没有伸手给福特，只是问，“你把这个保安机器人怎么了？”

The little robot was rolling very, very slowly round the ceiling and moaning quietly to itself.

那个小机器人正很慢，很慢地绕着天花板打转，嘴里念念有词地轻声呻吟着。

‘I’ve made it very happy,’ snapped Ford. ‘It’s a kind of mission I have. Where’s Stagyar? More to the point, where’s his drinks trolley?’

“我让他感到非常快乐，”福特厉声说，“这是我的志向之类的。斯塔格亚在哪儿？或者咱们还是直说吧，他放酒的手推车在哪儿？”

‘Mr. Zil-Doggo is no longer with this organisation. His drinks trolley is, I imagine, helping to console him for this fact.’

“兹尔-多哥先生已经离开本机构了。他那车酒，我想，正在帮助他抚平这一伤痛。”

‘Organisation?’ yelled Ford. ‘Organisation? What a bloody stupid word for a set-up like this!’

“机构？”福特吼道，“机构管这么个东西叫什么机构？这他妈也太蠢了。”

‘Precisely our sentiments. Under-structured, over-resourced, under-managed, over-inebriated. And that,’ said Harl, ‘was just the editor.’

“和我们感觉完全相同，组织不力，资源过剩，管理不力，酒精过剩。而这，”哈尔道，“还不仅仅是主编的问题。”

‘I’ll do the jokes,’ snarled Ford.

“搞笑留给我来就好！”福特咆哮道。

‘No,’ said Harl. ‘You will do the restaurant column.’

“不，”哈尔说，“你要搞的是美食专栏。”

He tossed a piece of plastic on to the desk in front of him. Ford did not move to pick it up.

他把一张小塑料片扔到自己面前的书桌上。福特没有伸手。

‘You what?’ said Ford.

“你啥？”

‘No. Me Harl. You Prefect. You do restaurant column. Me editor. Me sit here tell you you do restaurant column. You get?’

“不，我哈尔。你福特。你美食专栏。我主编。我坐这儿告诉你搞美食专栏。你明白了吗？”

‘Restaurant column?’ said Ford, too bewildered to be really angry yet.

“美食专栏？”福特眼下太糊涂，还没法真正生起气来。

‘Siddown, Prefect,’ said Harl. He swung round in his swivel chair, got to his feet, and stood staring out at the tiny specks enjoying the carnival twenty-three stories below.

“坐下，福特。”哈尔坐在转椅上一转，站起身来，俯视地上的小点，顺便享受三十三层楼底下的狂欢节。

‘Time to get this business on its feet, Prefect,’ he snapped. ‘We at InfiniDim Enterprises are…’

“该好好说说正事了，福特！”他厉声喝道，“我们无限帅公司……”

‘You at what?’

“你们啥？”