“OK,” muttered the bird morosely and flapped off into the dust again.
Zaphod watched its departure in bewilderment.
“Did that bird just talk to me?” he asked Marvin nervously. He was quite prepared to believe the alternative explanation, that he was in fact hallucinating.
“Yes,” confirmed Marvin.
“Poor souls,” said a deep, ethereal voice in Zaphod’s ear.
Twisting round violently to find the source of the voice nearly caused Zaphod to fall off the building. He grabbed savagely at a protruding window fitting and cut his hand on it. He hung on, breathing heavily.
The voice had no visible source whatever – there was no one there. Nevertheless, it spoke again.
“A tragic history behind them, you know. A terrible blight.”
Zaphod looked wildly about. The voice was deep and quiet. In other circumstances it would even be described as soothing. There is, however, nothing soothing about being addressed by a disembodied voice out of nowhere, particularly if you are, like Zaphod Beeblebrox, not at your best and hanging from a ledge eight storeys up a crashed building.
“Hey, er…” he stammered.
“Shall I tell you their story?” inquired the voice quietly.
“Hey, who are you?” panted Zaphod. “Where are you?”
“Later then, perhaps,” murmured the voice. “I am Gargravarr. I am the Custodian of the Total Perspective Vortex.”
“Why can’t I see…”
“You will find your progress down the building greatly facilitated,” the voice lifted, “if you move about two yards to your left. Why don’t you try it?”
Zaphod looked and saw a series of short horizontal grooves leading all the way down the side of the building. Gratefully he shifted himself across to them.
“Why don’t I see you again at the bottom?” said the voice in his ear, and as it spoke it faded.
“Hey,” called out Zaphod, “Where are you…”
“It’ll only take a couple of minutes…” said the voice very faintly.
“Marvin,” said Zaphod earnestly to the robot squatting dejectedly next to him, “Did a… did a voice just…”
“Yes,” Marvin replied tersely.