The battle raged on about the star of Xaxis. Hundreds of the fierce and horribly beweaponed Zirzla ships had now been smashed and wrenched to atoms by the withering forces the huge silver Xaxisian ship was able to deploy. Part of the moon had gone too, blasted away by those same blazing force guns that ripped the very fabric of space as they passed through it. The Zirzla ships that remained, horribly beweaponed though they were, were now hopelessly outclassed by the devastating power of the Xaxisian ship, and were fleeing for cover behind the rapidly disintegrating moon, when the Xaxisian ship, in hurtling pursuit behind them, suddenly announced that it needed a holiday and left the field of battle. All was redoubled fear and consternation for a moment, but the ship was gone. With the stupendous powers at its command it flitted across vast tracts of irrationally shaped space, quickly, effortlessly, and above all, quietly. Deep in his greasy, smelly bunk, fashioned out of a maintenance hatchway, Ford Prefect slept among his towels, dreaming of old haunts. He dreamed at one point in his slumbers of New York. In his dream he was walking late at night along the East Side, beside the river which had become so extravagantly polluted that new lifeforms were now emerging from it spontaneously, demanding welfare and voting rights. One of those now floated past, waving. Ford waved back. The thing thrashed to the shore and struggled up the bank. Hi, it said, I’ve just been created. I’m completely new to the Universe in all respects. Is there anything you can tell me? Phew, said Ford, a little nonplussed, I can tell you where some bars are, I guess. What about love and happiness. I sense deep needs for things like that, it said, waving its tentacles. Got any leads there? You can get some like what you require, said Ford, on Seventh Avenue. I instinctively feel, said the creature, urgently, that I need to be beautiful. Am I? You’re pretty direct, aren’t you? No point in mucking about. Am I? To me? said Ford. No. But listen, he added after a moment, most people make out, you know. Are there and like you down there? Search me, buster, said the creature, as I said, I’m new here. Life is entirely strange to me. What’s it like? Here was something that Ford felt he could speak about with authority. Life, he said, is like a grapefruit. Er, how so? Well, it’s sort of orangey-yellow and dimpled on the outside, wet and squidgy in the middle. It’s got pips inside, too. Oh, and some people have half a one for breakfast. Is there anyone else out there I can talk to? I expect so, said Ford. Ask a policeman. Deep in his bunk, Ford Prefect wriggled and turned on to his other side. It wasn’t his favourite type of dream because it didn’t have Eccentrica Gallumbits, the Triple-Breasted Whore of Eroticon VI in it, whom many of his dreams did feature. But at least it was a dream. At least he was asleep. 愛克西斯星的戰鬥如火如荼地進行着。上百艘兇悍可怖的武裝齊爾拉戰艦被龐大的銀色愛克西斯戰艦配備的毀滅原力粉碎肢解成了原子形態。 月亮的一部分也沒了。就是那撕裂織物一般薄弱的宇宙空間的耀眼原力炮所發射的能量在穿過月亮時把它轟飛了。 殘餘的齊爾拉戰艦，儘管全副武裝，如今卻無助地被愛克西斯戰艦的淫威所壓制，逃到正迅速碎裂的月亮後面尋求掩護，而此時，當愛克西斯戰艦正全速追擊他們時，突然宣稱自己該放假瞭然後就離開了戰場。 大家全都更加地恐慌驚愕，但是那戰艦確實已經走了。 憑藉自己掌控的驚人力量，它就這樣穿過了龐大廣闊的不規則空間，迅速、輕鬆，而且最重要的是，安靜。 在他那油膩膩臭烘烘的由維修通道改造的鋪位上，福特.普里弗克特睡在他的毛巾裏，夢見過去的老地方。他一度夢見了紐約。 在夢裏，他深夜裏走在紐約東部的貧民區，就在河邊。那條河污染得如此過度以至於新的生命體正從它那裏自然而然地孕育而生，要求福利和投票權。 其中一個生命體漂過，向他招手。福特回禮。 那個東西向岸邊逆流而上然後掙扎着上了陸地。 “嗨，”它說，“我剛被創造出來。我對宇宙的方方面面都是新手。你有啥可以告訴我的嗎？” “喲，”福特有點小困惑地說，“我想，我能告訴你哪兒有酒吧。” “那麼愛和幸福呢。我感知到了對這種東西深深的需求，”它說着，揮動自己的觸角。“有啥指導麼？” “你可以搞到一些類似的東西，”福特說，“在第七大道（注）。” “我本能地覺着，”那個生物急促地說，“我需要變漂亮。是不？” “你真直接，不是麼？” “沒必要閒扯。是不？” “對我？”福特說。“沒必要。但是聽着，”他頓了一會兒補充說，“大多數人就這樣得過且過了，你要明白。河底下還有你這樣兒的麼？” “我咋知道，大個兒，”那個生物說，“我剛纔說了，我在這兒還是個新人。整個生活對我而言都很奇異。那是啥樣子的？” 這是福特覺得某個可以發表權威意見的東西。 “生活，”他說，“就像個柚子。” “呃，怎麼會？” “好吧，這東西的褶皺外皮是某種橙黃色的，中間又軟又溼。裏面也有籽。哦，而且一些人早餐會吃半個那東西。” “外面還有什麼別的人我能交談麼？” “我認爲有，”福特說，“問個警察吧。” 在他的鋪位深處，福特.普里弗克特把身子扭到了另一側。這不是他喜歡的那種夢，因爲裏面沒有伊森翠卡.嘎盧比茨，那個色慾六號星上的三乳妓女，她是他很多夢裏的重要部分。但至少這是個夢。至少他睡着了。
