The main reception foyer was almost empty but Ford nevertheless weaved his way through it.
Zaphod grasped him firmly by the arm and manoeuvred him into a cubicle standing to one side of the entrance hall.
“What are you doing to him?” asked Arthur.
“Sobering him up,” said Zaphod and pushed a coin into a slot. Lights flashed, gases swirled.
“Hi,” said Ford stepping out a moment later, “where are we going?”
“Down to the car park, come on.”
“What about the personnel Time Teleports?” said Ford, “Get us straight back to the Heart of Gold.”
“Yeah, but I’ve cooled on that ship. Zarniwoop can have it. I don’t want to play his games. Let’s see what we can find.”
A Sirius Cybernetics Corporation Happy Vertical People Transporter took them down deep into the substrata beneath the Restaurant. They were glad to see it had been vandalized and didn’t try to make them happy as well as take them down.
At the bottom of the shaft the lift doors opened and a blast of cold stale air hit them.
The first thing they saw on leaving the lift was a long concrete wall with over fifty doors in it offering lavatory facilities for all of fifty major lifeforms. Nevertheless, like every car park in the Galaxy throughout the entire history of car parks, this car park smelt predominantly of impatience.
They turned a corner and found themselves on a moving catwalk that traversed a vast cavernous space that stretched off into the dim distance.
It was divided off into bays each of which contained a space ship belonging to one of the diners upstairs, some smallish and utilitarian mass production models, others vast shining limoships, the playthings of the very rich.
Zaphod’s eyes sparkled with something that may or may not have been avarice as he passed over them. In fact it’s best to be clear on this point avarice is definitely what it was.
“There he is,” said Trillian, “Marvin, down there.”
They looked where she was pointing. Dimly they could see a small metal figure listlessly rubbing a small rag on one remote corner of a giant silver suncruiser.
At short intervals along the moving catwalk, wide transparent tubes led down to floor level. Zaphod stepped off the catwalk into one and floated gently downwards. The others followed. Thinking back to this later, Arthur Dent thought it was the single most enjoyable experience of his travels in the Galaxy.
“Hey, Marvin,” said Zaphod striding over towards to him, “Hey, kid, are we pleased to see you.”
Marvin turned, and in so far as it is possible for a totally inert metal face to look reproachfully, this is what it did.
“No you’re not,” he said, “no one ever is.”