The ship's been cleaned. Insanely. Every bit of it's shining brightly, even whiter than it normally is, and all is pristine and perfect for a trip that guarantees, considering time and the personages involved, that by the time they land, it'll be a mess
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Comments 446
In fact, here he is now.
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"Comfortable-looking, isn't it?"
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Max flops on another of the white, roundedlike couches. "And this is one of the best chairs to sink into I've found in a while."
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"I don't believe we've met."
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He's trying very hard not to look out of his depth. But. 1815. Spaceship.
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A pause.
"Um, and Zan, if he calls for introduction. Same to you. Thanks for coming."
Max can't thank anyone enough.
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"Zark off."
And now there's a Ford here as well.
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Interplanetary slang = still not something Max has picked up on.
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"Not you, the door." He jerks his thumb over his shoulder to the closing hatchway. "I really hate these doors. You'll hate them too if you're here long enough."
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"The keystone of the brick wall of the mission, perhaps."
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Yes, Zaphod is awake.
Uh, sorta.
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"I think you'll get your wish for a party tonight."
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"Think hubby'll mind if I dance with the bride?"
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"I'm sure he won't."
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