Zaphod wandered in frustration among the hulks. There was nothing here that remotely approached the serviceable. Even the mere vibration of his footsteps caused one precarious wreck to collapse further into itself.
Towards the rear of the building lay one old ship, slightly larger than the others, and buried beneath even deeper piles of dust and cobwebs. Its outline, however, seemed unbroken. Zaphod approached it with interest, and as he did so, he tripped over an old feedline.
He tried to toss the feedline aside, and to his surprise discovered that it was still connected to the ship.
To his utter astonishment he realized that the feedline was also humming slightly.
He stared at the ship in disbelief, and then back down at the feedline in his hands.
He tore off his jacket and threw it aside. Crawling along on his hands and knees he followed the feedline to the point where it connected with the ship. The connection was sound, and the slight humming vibration was more distinct.
His heart was beating fast. He wiped away some grime and laid an ear against the ship’s side. He could only hear a faint, indeterminate noise.
He rummaged feverishly amongst the debris lying on the floor all about him and found a short length of tubing, and a non-biodegradable plastic cup. Out of this he fashioned a crude stethoscope and placed it against the side of the ship.
What he heard made his brains turn somersaults.
The voice said: “Transtellar Cruise Lines would like to apologize to passengers for the continuing delay to this flight. We are currently awaiting the loading of our complement of small lemon-soaked paper napkins for your comfort, refreshment and hygiene during the journey. Meanwhile we thank you for your patience. The cabin crew will shortly be serving coffee and biscuits again.”
Zaphod staggered backwards, staring wildly at the ship.
He walked around for a few moments in a daze. In so doing he suddenly caught sight of a giant departure board still hanging, but by only one support, from the ceiling above him. It was covered with grime, but some of the figures were still discernible.
Zaphod’s eyes searched amongst the figures, then made some brief calculations. His eyes widened.
“Nine hundred years…” he breathed to himself. That was how late the ship was.
Two minutes later he was on board.
As he stepped out of the airlock, the air that greeted him was cool and fresh – the air conditioning was still working.The lights were still on.
He moved out of the small entrance chamber into a short narrow corridor and stepped nervously down it.
Suddenly a door opened and a figure stepped out in front of him.
“Please return to your seat sir,” said the android stewardess and, turning her back on him, she walked on down the corridor in front of him.
When his heart had started beating again he followed her. She opened the door at the end of the corridor and walked through.
He followed her through the door.