Richard Book is Innocent (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
oxfordtweed) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tweedandtinsel2010-12-04 07:22 pm
oxfordtweed) wrote in tweedandtinsel2010-12-04 07:22 pm
Hitchhiking (2/7)
Title: Hitchhiking
Fandom: Hot Fuzz/Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy/Doctor Who
Character/s:Hot Fuzz: Nicholas, Walker, Saxon; H2G2: Heart of Gold crew; Doctor Who: Nine, Rose
Word Count (chapter/total): 3,200
Rating: PG
Summary/Warnings: Green, bug-eyed monsters demolish the Earth to make way for a hyperspace express route. At least, that's what the people of Earth are told.
I don't think Nicholas would handle this whole mucking about in all of space and time adventuring thing quite as well as some people do. In fact, I think it would totally rock his world (no pun intended) in all the wrong ways.
At least he's making friends.
Also, I really liked the idea of an older, slightly more educated and confident Arthur. Being out in space for over a decade will make you learn at least a few things, whether you want to or not.
Nicholas wanted to be sick. In fact, he was quite certain he was going to be, upon regaining consciousness to Saxon lapping at his face. Groaning, he rolled out from under the dog, finding himself looking at what could only be described as a rather phallic rubbish bin.
"Welcome," it said, its voice sounding like it had been looped through an asthmatic amplifier that had seen one too many Peter Frampton concerts.
A second talking rubbish bin glided across the smooth floor to the group of Earth travellers who apparently mostly weren't even from Earth, holding a small bowl in what seemed to serve as awkward, unbending arms, a plunger-like suction device holding onto its deep sides. "Eat," it said. "You need salt." Saxon and Walker eagerly took one of the small, sponge-like balls each, eating the substance with no objection. "Eat," the metallic creature repeated at Nicholas, nudging the tray closer to his face.
Nervously, Nicholas took the remaining spongish foodstuff from the tray, hoping that whatever substance it contained that his human body would certainly be unable to handle would kill him quickly, and with minimal suffering. Biting into the quite literally alien snack, he found that it was not entirely unlike Jaffa Cakes, with hints of tastes that weren't entirely unlike orange and chocolate.
"Thank you," he said weakly, nodding at the creature in front of him. Looking around the room they were now inhabiting, Nicholas realized that there were nearly a dozen of the metal creatures surrounding them. "Hold on," he said to Saxon, pointing at the creature nearest to him. "It's...a machine. Isn't it?"
"So?" the dog that wasn't really a dog asked.
"That's... impossible." Nicholas got to his hands and knees, daring to inch closer to the creature.
"Not impossible," the creature said, apparently unfazed at Nicholas' blatant disregard for manners. "Nothing is impossible. Only improbable."
Not having the energy to argue with a creature that could very likely have bi-polar issues, and decide to kill the three of them at the first sign of conflict, Nicholas returned to a seated position on the floor, trying to make himself look as small and unthreatening as possible. "So, what's the plan, then?" he asked.
Walker mumbled something.
"Oh, I'd love to," Saxon replied. "Got any change on you?"
Walker dug through his pockets and pulled out a handful of familiar coins, mumbling something to himself.
"Yeah, I suppose we could sell the copper for the deposit. Rare stuff, in some areas."
"Actually," Nicholas said slowly. "Pennies aren't copper. They're just copper-plated steel."
Saxon looked into the small collection of coins in Walker's hand. "Even that’s worth a fortune in some areas," he said. "Unless you’d rather donate genetic material for cash?”
Nicholas was certain he hadn't just heard what he thought he did, and shook his head slowly. “Wait, what do you mean, cash?” he demanded. “You can’t seriously be suggesting that we’re staying here? We’ve got to have a better plan than just selling pennies? What about—“
"Nicholas. Nicholas!" Saxon said, getting close enough for Nicholas to smell the kibble on his breath. "Shut up!" Saxon and Walker followed one of the talking rubbish bins out of the room. "I've always wanted to say that," Saxon said. Walker mumbled something in return.
One of the talking rubbish bins glided over to Nicholas, stopping only inches from the inspector. "Come," it said, rotating slightly. "We can take you to the restaurant. It will only be a moment before arrival."
Nicholas wanted to argue the logic of arriving at a restaurant in mere moments after deciding to go. He wanted to argue against selling fake copper. He wanted to ask a million unanswered questions about why Earth had been obliterated by evil green bug-eyed monsters.
"Yeah, okay," he said weakly, getting to his feet. He followed the creature out of the room they had materialized in, reaching a corridor as the entire ship lurched violently. Still on shaky legs, Nicholas fell into the creature, launching into an endless stream of apology, as he still wasn't totally convinced that their hosts wouldn't turn on them in an instant. In his incoherent babbling, he barely noticed that the creature’s armour had quite badly seared the palm of his hand.
"Please be careful," the creature said, backing off slightly to give Nicholas room. "No need to apologize." It rotated to face a wall, and after fiddling with a panel in much the same manner as an R2 unit would, a door slid open. "Ah. Here are your companions," it said, moving toward Walker and Saxon. "We'll drop you in the parking garage."
"Thanks," Saxon said cheerily. "I dare not think what would have happened if those Vogon sons of narches had found us on their ship."
Walker mumbled something.
"Travel safe," their host said as a larger door slid open, revealing a large, apparently underground parking structure for space ships.
Nicholas followed Walker and Saxon out of the ship, finally knowing what it was to experience complete and total "switching off." It took him several long moments to bring a single thought to his mind, let alone vocalize it.
"Fifteen minutes ago," he started slowly, "we were standing in a field near Elroy Farm."
"Yes," Saxon said.
"Ten minutes ago, we were beamed on board some space ship, just above where Earth used to be?"
"Yes, Nicholas. I was there," Saxon said, sounding mildly annoyed.
"And now, we're in a parking garage? Ten minutes from Earth?"
"No," Saxon said, stopping for a moment to look up at Nicholas. "We are at the restaurant at the end of the universe. Milliway's."
"It takes ten minutes to get from Earth to the end of the universe?"
"Wrong again." Saxon started across the parking garage once more. "Were at the end of time. In about one Earth hour, the universe around us will cease to be."
"Time travel?"
"Yes."
The trio passed by a muttering android, going on about sticking its head in a bucket, as they entered the restaurant, which was occupied by more types of creatures than in all of Danny's science fiction DVDs combined. Walker led the way up to the bar, mumbling something to the blue man behind the counter. Nicholas dared to lean against the counter, its rough texture alerting him to the damage done to his hand.
"And for you two, then?" the bartender asked.
"Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster," Saxon said. The blue man looked nervously at the dog before turning his attention to Nicholas.
"And you?"
Nicholas took a moment before saying, "Uhm...."
"I've never heard of that, before," the blue man behind the counter said. "What's in it?"
Nicholas realised that he was being talked to, and was ready to respond when he heard a voice waiver over the crowd. "No! I just want some tea! Tea! Why don't you know what that is?"
The inspector turned slowly away from the blue man behind the counter, holding his healthy hand up politely. "Hang on," he said, training his gaze on what appeared to be a man. In a dressing gown. A rather angry man in a dressing gown, in fact, and a woman who tried to calm her companion down. Momentarily forgetting that he was surrounded by creatures from all across time and space, Nicholas made his way across the crowded restaurant, stopping beside the...man that was causing problems.
"Excuse me," Nicholas said, making a point to not look at the two-headed, three-armed being sitting at the table. "Is there an issue over here?"
The man in the tattered green dressing gown didn't even look up. "I just want a cup of tea, two sugars, and a biscuit. I've explained this to your staff enough times by now..." He pounded his fist against the table, accenting each item.
"Arthur," his female friend said, patting his arm. "You know how this place works."
"Well, sir," Nicholas said, reaching under his stab vest. "I can't help you with the biscuits, but I do always keep a few bags of Earl Grey on me." He handed the tea bag out for the traveller to take.
The man called Arthur looked up at Nicholas, his jaw completely slack. "You...you...you're from Earth!" He stuttered as he took the tea bag, grinning madly. He turned to look at his companion briefly before standing to address the inspector. "I thought we were the only ones left! Please! Join us!" Nicholas allowed himself to be pulled down next to Arthur and his friend, finding himself sitting directly across from the two-headed man. "My name is Arthur, this is Trillian," Arthur said, motioning to his female friend. "And this is Zaphod and Ford." He motioned to the two men across the table who appeared to be involved in a game of some sort, and far too busy for any ruckus Arthur was causing. "Trillian and I have been travelling with them for...oh, I don't even know how long, any more." Arthur never stopped smiling, clearly thrilled at meeting someone else from Earth. "So, you're a cop?"
Nicholas nodded. "Yes," he said curtly. "Inspector Nicholas Angel."
"No." Arthur's jaw went slack again. "I thought I recognized you! Sandford, yeah?"
Nicholas nodded politely. "Yes, that's right." It began to dawn on him that he was officially an endangered species.
"Real shame about what happened there. I lived just outside of town, and I had no idea anything was going on until I got the paper the next morning."
"What did you mean when you said you'd explained something to the staff 'enough times'?" Nicholas asked, ignoring Arthur's comment. "You've... been here before?"
Arthur nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said. "I lost count how many times we've been here. Takes a few times to get used to it, but once you get over the cows, it's really a lovely place." He looked around the restaurant, smiling at the eclectic crowd.
Nicholas leaned forward, putting his hands on the table, clenching his jaw tightly. "Twenty minutes ago, I was responding to a call in west Gloucestershire."
Arthur and Trillian both covered their mouths with their hands. As though taking a cue, Zaphod and Ford got up from their seats, making a line straight for the bar.
"Oh, goodness," Trillian said quietly.
"It didn't even occur to me," Arthur said unevenly. "I'm... so sorry."
"And you're telling me that you've been here too many times to count?" The talking rubbish bins had nothing on Arthur and his green dressing gown.
Arthur grimaced slightly and looked past Nicholas to Trillian. "Well, time isn't linear," he said slowly. "It jumbles up. Goes every which way." He kept his gaze fixed on Trillian, as though expecting some sort of confirmation for everything he said. "They demolished Earth twenty minutes ago on your time line, but we've been out here for... years." Trillian nodded, as though allowing Arthur to continue. "This restaurant acts as the one... common... point in which all time lines meet."
Trillian nodded again, smiling slightly. "You wouldn't believe how long it took him to understand even that much," she said.
"Hey, Trillian. That replication drive on the Heart of Gold." Arthur said quickly, holding up the tea bag Nicholas had offered, driving the present conversation straight into a ditch and leaving it there to rust. "Could it replicate this?"
"As long as it has an original to replicate," Trillian said. "It can't replicate a replication."
Arthur smiled as he slipped the tea bag into his pocket. "Inspector," he said, slapping the table lightly. "Would you care to join us for tea on our space ship after dinner?"
Nicholas sat in the man's space ship (which, as it turned out, wasn't even his), leaning over a cup that was not entirely unlike Styrofoam. He'd watched the man called Arthur have a row with a talking wall before putting a teabag into a small white box, after which ten "copies" fell out of the bottom into a small mesh basket, causing him to practically shake with delight. Arthur tacked the original onto the wall with a sticky residue, made himself and Nicholas a cup of tea each, and led the inspector over to a small dining area.
"Sugar?" Arthur asked, reaching for a small glass bowl.
Nicholas shook his head weakly, still amazed with the salve Arthur’s female friend had given him for his hand. He ran his thumb across his palm, amazed that the skin wasn’t even red. "No, thank you," he barely managed, looking up in time to see Arthur putting blue-tinted sugar cubes into his cup. "That's... sugar?" he asked.
Arthur shrugged. "Close enough," he said, blissfully drinking his sweetened beverage.
According to the Guide, there are only two places in the galaxy at which to acquire natural granulated sugar, a popular additive in many foods and beverages across the universe. The first was a backwater planet called Earth, which until recently, was inhabited by a race of beings that believed they were the only sentient creatures in the galaxy. This belief was, of course, brought to a speedy end when Earth was demolished to make way for a hyperspatial express route.
The second place in the galaxy known to produce sugar is a moon which circles an uninhabitable planet near Aldebaran. Unlike the sugar on Earth, which was easily harvested, the sugar from Aldebaran needs to be extracted from mines which lie miles beneath the rocky surface. Countless workers lose their lives in the mines, but countless more would surely suffer if the supply of natural sweetener ever ran dry, due to a certain ingrained need in all sentient life to sweeten nearly everything they consume.
Aldebaran sugar is exactly identical to Earth sugar, except for a very distinct colouring of blue to the granules.
Some civilizations have tried to manufacture synthetic sugars, but at the cost of halting all forms of evolution, thus resulting in the slow extinction of the entire race.
"How long have you been..." Nicholas couldn't make himself finish the sentence. Instead, he just looked back down at his tea, which he really wasn't in the mood to drink.
Arthur sighed and looked up toward the low ceiling. "You sort of lose track of time out here," he said honestly. "I don't think it's been a full decade, but it's probably coming close."
"Where did you live, before..." He tried not to think about the context of "before." For Arthur, Earth was just a distant memory, but Nicholas could still smell swan in his uniform.
"Not too far from you, actually," Arthur said. For a moment, Nicholas wondered how the man knew where he lived, taking several moments to remember having been all over national news not even a year earlier. "Just outside of town. If it was clear enough, I could make out Spencer Hill." He finished off his tea and got up to fix himself a second cup, laughing to himself. "You know, the day the Vogons came round, my house was actually torn down for that bypass. Next thing I know, Ford's dragging me off to the pub, force-feeding me peanuts."
Nicholas sighed. "Danny begged me to go to Buford Abbey with him, today," he said, more to himself than to Arthur. "I didn't want to call off just to go buy DVDs with him, and..."
Arthur sighed and moved closer to Nicholas, setting his cup on the table. "Hey," he said, trying to help Nicholas to his feet. "Let's get you cleaned up and settled in. We're going to meet someone important, and it would be best if you didn't, well, smell like a farm animal."
Nicholas allowed himself to be guided across the expansive ship to the living quarters, forcing himself to ignore everything but the very boring, albeit completely ordinary floor. Simple, plain white tile that seemed to neither talk nor do anything special, aside from not fall out from under your feet, which is exactly what any good floor should do.
"So, your friends..." Arthur started, not sure how to address the inspector's travelling companions.
"A constable I've never been able to understand, and a talking dog," Nicholas calmly informed him. "Seems like they'll fit in just fine."
"Right." Arthur pushed a small, blue-silver panel on the wall, triggering a door to slide open into a small bunk; about the same size as the room he'd lived in after his separation with Janine. He hadn't thought about her in several months, but now that he'd never see her again, along with anyone else, except from one very strange man from the West Country, Nicholas wasn't sure he ever wanted to think about anything at all. He didn’t even properly say goodbye the last time they spoke; just showed her up in a fit of single-mindedness. Arthur left Nicholas alone without farewell, figuring it might be best to give him a bit of space.
The inspector slowly took off his stab vest and his belt -- and by proxy, all the gear attached -- and put them gently on the bunk. Leaning over the small washbasin in the corner, Nicholas rubbed his face with his hands. There was no reason to ever look at his gear again. He wasn't a police officer anymore; not an inspector with the Sandford -- or any other British -- constabulary, by any rate. He could wear the uniform and carry the badge, but they no longer meant anything. Just words and symbols that held no worth to anyone beyond the walls of the Heart of Gold.
Nicholas was startled upright when the door behind him slid open suddenly. He turned around, finding one of the men -- the one with only one head -- from the restaurant.
"Sorry," he said, stuttering in his step, slightly. "Should have knocked."
Nicholas shook his head. "No," he said. "It's fine." It really wasn't, but it was easier to lie.
The man called Ford held up an old suede jacket. "Might need this," he said, offering it to Nicholas. "Might be a bit cold, where we're going."
"I'm sorry?" They'd only just arrived, and they were leaving again. Nicholas took the jacket, but hesitated to put it on. "Where are we going?"
Ford smiled kindly. "Zaphod has a meeting with this consortium of bankers and investors," he explained. "We're just trying to figure out how to get there, now."
It made perfect sense. This ragtag group of interstellar nomads had a big fancy ship, and no sense of navigation. He wouldn’t be surprised if the ship were stolen. "You don't know where the meeting is?" Nicholas asked, trying not to sound condescending, despite the seeming illogic of scheduling a meeting without getting directions. "Can't you just tell the on board navigation systems where to go?" It occurred to Nicholas that they would have had the GPS installed in both Imprezas in about two days' time; clearly no excuse for a space ship to not have on board navigation.
Ford took a moment to process Nicholas' question before shaking his head slightly. "No, we know where it is," he said. "Trouble is, the meeting's not for a few hundred centuries, so we need the Improbability Drive."
"I'm sorry?"
"The Improbability Drive," Ford repeated easily as he leaned against the door frame. "It can take you anywhere, and any time, so long as you know the improbability factor of being there at that precise moment."
Nicholas considered that for a moment. "Hang on," he said slowly. "If you know this thing can take you anywhere, wouldn't that mean that you'd already know that you'd be there for the meeting anyway, and make the... whatever factor zero percent?"
At that moment, the entire universe completely ceased to exist.
Fandom: Hot Fuzz/Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy/Doctor Who
Character/s:Hot Fuzz: Nicholas, Walker, Saxon; H2G2: Heart of Gold crew; Doctor Who: Nine, Rose
Word Count (chapter/total): 3,200
Rating: PG
Summary/Warnings: Green, bug-eyed monsters demolish the Earth to make way for a hyperspace express route. At least, that's what the people of Earth are told.
I don't think Nicholas would handle this whole mucking about in all of space and time adventuring thing quite as well as some people do. In fact, I think it would totally rock his world (no pun intended) in all the wrong ways.
At least he's making friends.
Also, I really liked the idea of an older, slightly more educated and confident Arthur. Being out in space for over a decade will make you learn at least a few things, whether you want to or not.
Nicholas wanted to be sick. In fact, he was quite certain he was going to be, upon regaining consciousness to Saxon lapping at his face. Groaning, he rolled out from under the dog, finding himself looking at what could only be described as a rather phallic rubbish bin.
"Welcome," it said, its voice sounding like it had been looped through an asthmatic amplifier that had seen one too many Peter Frampton concerts.
A second talking rubbish bin glided across the smooth floor to the group of Earth travellers who apparently mostly weren't even from Earth, holding a small bowl in what seemed to serve as awkward, unbending arms, a plunger-like suction device holding onto its deep sides. "Eat," it said. "You need salt." Saxon and Walker eagerly took one of the small, sponge-like balls each, eating the substance with no objection. "Eat," the metallic creature repeated at Nicholas, nudging the tray closer to his face.
Nervously, Nicholas took the remaining spongish foodstuff from the tray, hoping that whatever substance it contained that his human body would certainly be unable to handle would kill him quickly, and with minimal suffering. Biting into the quite literally alien snack, he found that it was not entirely unlike Jaffa Cakes, with hints of tastes that weren't entirely unlike orange and chocolate.
"Thank you," he said weakly, nodding at the creature in front of him. Looking around the room they were now inhabiting, Nicholas realized that there were nearly a dozen of the metal creatures surrounding them. "Hold on," he said to Saxon, pointing at the creature nearest to him. "It's...a machine. Isn't it?"
"So?" the dog that wasn't really a dog asked.
"That's... impossible." Nicholas got to his hands and knees, daring to inch closer to the creature.
"Not impossible," the creature said, apparently unfazed at Nicholas' blatant disregard for manners. "Nothing is impossible. Only improbable."
Not having the energy to argue with a creature that could very likely have bi-polar issues, and decide to kill the three of them at the first sign of conflict, Nicholas returned to a seated position on the floor, trying to make himself look as small and unthreatening as possible. "So, what's the plan, then?" he asked.
Walker mumbled something.
"Oh, I'd love to," Saxon replied. "Got any change on you?"
Walker dug through his pockets and pulled out a handful of familiar coins, mumbling something to himself.
"Yeah, I suppose we could sell the copper for the deposit. Rare stuff, in some areas."
"Actually," Nicholas said slowly. "Pennies aren't copper. They're just copper-plated steel."
Saxon looked into the small collection of coins in Walker's hand. "Even that’s worth a fortune in some areas," he said. "Unless you’d rather donate genetic material for cash?”
Nicholas was certain he hadn't just heard what he thought he did, and shook his head slowly. “Wait, what do you mean, cash?” he demanded. “You can’t seriously be suggesting that we’re staying here? We’ve got to have a better plan than just selling pennies? What about—“
"Nicholas. Nicholas!" Saxon said, getting close enough for Nicholas to smell the kibble on his breath. "Shut up!" Saxon and Walker followed one of the talking rubbish bins out of the room. "I've always wanted to say that," Saxon said. Walker mumbled something in return.
One of the talking rubbish bins glided over to Nicholas, stopping only inches from the inspector. "Come," it said, rotating slightly. "We can take you to the restaurant. It will only be a moment before arrival."
Nicholas wanted to argue the logic of arriving at a restaurant in mere moments after deciding to go. He wanted to argue against selling fake copper. He wanted to ask a million unanswered questions about why Earth had been obliterated by evil green bug-eyed monsters.
"Yeah, okay," he said weakly, getting to his feet. He followed the creature out of the room they had materialized in, reaching a corridor as the entire ship lurched violently. Still on shaky legs, Nicholas fell into the creature, launching into an endless stream of apology, as he still wasn't totally convinced that their hosts wouldn't turn on them in an instant. In his incoherent babbling, he barely noticed that the creature’s armour had quite badly seared the palm of his hand.
"Please be careful," the creature said, backing off slightly to give Nicholas room. "No need to apologize." It rotated to face a wall, and after fiddling with a panel in much the same manner as an R2 unit would, a door slid open. "Ah. Here are your companions," it said, moving toward Walker and Saxon. "We'll drop you in the parking garage."
"Thanks," Saxon said cheerily. "I dare not think what would have happened if those Vogon sons of narches had found us on their ship."
Walker mumbled something.
"Travel safe," their host said as a larger door slid open, revealing a large, apparently underground parking structure for space ships.
Nicholas followed Walker and Saxon out of the ship, finally knowing what it was to experience complete and total "switching off." It took him several long moments to bring a single thought to his mind, let alone vocalize it.
"Fifteen minutes ago," he started slowly, "we were standing in a field near Elroy Farm."
"Yes," Saxon said.
"Ten minutes ago, we were beamed on board some space ship, just above where Earth used to be?"
"Yes, Nicholas. I was there," Saxon said, sounding mildly annoyed.
"And now, we're in a parking garage? Ten minutes from Earth?"
"No," Saxon said, stopping for a moment to look up at Nicholas. "We are at the restaurant at the end of the universe. Milliway's."
"It takes ten minutes to get from Earth to the end of the universe?"
"Wrong again." Saxon started across the parking garage once more. "Were at the end of time. In about one Earth hour, the universe around us will cease to be."
"Time travel?"
"Yes."
The trio passed by a muttering android, going on about sticking its head in a bucket, as they entered the restaurant, which was occupied by more types of creatures than in all of Danny's science fiction DVDs combined. Walker led the way up to the bar, mumbling something to the blue man behind the counter. Nicholas dared to lean against the counter, its rough texture alerting him to the damage done to his hand.
"And for you two, then?" the bartender asked.
"Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster," Saxon said. The blue man looked nervously at the dog before turning his attention to Nicholas.
"And you?"
Nicholas took a moment before saying, "Uhm...."
"I've never heard of that, before," the blue man behind the counter said. "What's in it?"
Nicholas realised that he was being talked to, and was ready to respond when he heard a voice waiver over the crowd. "No! I just want some tea! Tea! Why don't you know what that is?"
The inspector turned slowly away from the blue man behind the counter, holding his healthy hand up politely. "Hang on," he said, training his gaze on what appeared to be a man. In a dressing gown. A rather angry man in a dressing gown, in fact, and a woman who tried to calm her companion down. Momentarily forgetting that he was surrounded by creatures from all across time and space, Nicholas made his way across the crowded restaurant, stopping beside the...man that was causing problems.
"Excuse me," Nicholas said, making a point to not look at the two-headed, three-armed being sitting at the table. "Is there an issue over here?"
The man in the tattered green dressing gown didn't even look up. "I just want a cup of tea, two sugars, and a biscuit. I've explained this to your staff enough times by now..." He pounded his fist against the table, accenting each item.
"Arthur," his female friend said, patting his arm. "You know how this place works."
"Well, sir," Nicholas said, reaching under his stab vest. "I can't help you with the biscuits, but I do always keep a few bags of Earl Grey on me." He handed the tea bag out for the traveller to take.
The man called Arthur looked up at Nicholas, his jaw completely slack. "You...you...you're from Earth!" He stuttered as he took the tea bag, grinning madly. He turned to look at his companion briefly before standing to address the inspector. "I thought we were the only ones left! Please! Join us!" Nicholas allowed himself to be pulled down next to Arthur and his friend, finding himself sitting directly across from the two-headed man. "My name is Arthur, this is Trillian," Arthur said, motioning to his female friend. "And this is Zaphod and Ford." He motioned to the two men across the table who appeared to be involved in a game of some sort, and far too busy for any ruckus Arthur was causing. "Trillian and I have been travelling with them for...oh, I don't even know how long, any more." Arthur never stopped smiling, clearly thrilled at meeting someone else from Earth. "So, you're a cop?"
Nicholas nodded. "Yes," he said curtly. "Inspector Nicholas Angel."
"No." Arthur's jaw went slack again. "I thought I recognized you! Sandford, yeah?"
Nicholas nodded politely. "Yes, that's right." It began to dawn on him that he was officially an endangered species.
"Real shame about what happened there. I lived just outside of town, and I had no idea anything was going on until I got the paper the next morning."
"What did you mean when you said you'd explained something to the staff 'enough times'?" Nicholas asked, ignoring Arthur's comment. "You've... been here before?"
Arthur nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said. "I lost count how many times we've been here. Takes a few times to get used to it, but once you get over the cows, it's really a lovely place." He looked around the restaurant, smiling at the eclectic crowd.
Nicholas leaned forward, putting his hands on the table, clenching his jaw tightly. "Twenty minutes ago, I was responding to a call in west Gloucestershire."
Arthur and Trillian both covered their mouths with their hands. As though taking a cue, Zaphod and Ford got up from their seats, making a line straight for the bar.
"Oh, goodness," Trillian said quietly.
"It didn't even occur to me," Arthur said unevenly. "I'm... so sorry."
"And you're telling me that you've been here too many times to count?" The talking rubbish bins had nothing on Arthur and his green dressing gown.
Arthur grimaced slightly and looked past Nicholas to Trillian. "Well, time isn't linear," he said slowly. "It jumbles up. Goes every which way." He kept his gaze fixed on Trillian, as though expecting some sort of confirmation for everything he said. "They demolished Earth twenty minutes ago on your time line, but we've been out here for... years." Trillian nodded, as though allowing Arthur to continue. "This restaurant acts as the one... common... point in which all time lines meet."
Trillian nodded again, smiling slightly. "You wouldn't believe how long it took him to understand even that much," she said.
"Hey, Trillian. That replication drive on the Heart of Gold." Arthur said quickly, holding up the tea bag Nicholas had offered, driving the present conversation straight into a ditch and leaving it there to rust. "Could it replicate this?"
"As long as it has an original to replicate," Trillian said. "It can't replicate a replication."
Arthur smiled as he slipped the tea bag into his pocket. "Inspector," he said, slapping the table lightly. "Would you care to join us for tea on our space ship after dinner?"
Nicholas sat in the man's space ship (which, as it turned out, wasn't even his), leaning over a cup that was not entirely unlike Styrofoam. He'd watched the man called Arthur have a row with a talking wall before putting a teabag into a small white box, after which ten "copies" fell out of the bottom into a small mesh basket, causing him to practically shake with delight. Arthur tacked the original onto the wall with a sticky residue, made himself and Nicholas a cup of tea each, and led the inspector over to a small dining area.
"Sugar?" Arthur asked, reaching for a small glass bowl.
Nicholas shook his head weakly, still amazed with the salve Arthur’s female friend had given him for his hand. He ran his thumb across his palm, amazed that the skin wasn’t even red. "No, thank you," he barely managed, looking up in time to see Arthur putting blue-tinted sugar cubes into his cup. "That's... sugar?" he asked.
Arthur shrugged. "Close enough," he said, blissfully drinking his sweetened beverage.
According to the Guide, there are only two places in the galaxy at which to acquire natural granulated sugar, a popular additive in many foods and beverages across the universe. The first was a backwater planet called Earth, which until recently, was inhabited by a race of beings that believed they were the only sentient creatures in the galaxy. This belief was, of course, brought to a speedy end when Earth was demolished to make way for a hyperspatial express route.
The second place in the galaxy known to produce sugar is a moon which circles an uninhabitable planet near Aldebaran. Unlike the sugar on Earth, which was easily harvested, the sugar from Aldebaran needs to be extracted from mines which lie miles beneath the rocky surface. Countless workers lose their lives in the mines, but countless more would surely suffer if the supply of natural sweetener ever ran dry, due to a certain ingrained need in all sentient life to sweeten nearly everything they consume.
Aldebaran sugar is exactly identical to Earth sugar, except for a very distinct colouring of blue to the granules.
Some civilizations have tried to manufacture synthetic sugars, but at the cost of halting all forms of evolution, thus resulting in the slow extinction of the entire race.
"How long have you been..." Nicholas couldn't make himself finish the sentence. Instead, he just looked back down at his tea, which he really wasn't in the mood to drink.
Arthur sighed and looked up toward the low ceiling. "You sort of lose track of time out here," he said honestly. "I don't think it's been a full decade, but it's probably coming close."
"Where did you live, before..." He tried not to think about the context of "before." For Arthur, Earth was just a distant memory, but Nicholas could still smell swan in his uniform.
"Not too far from you, actually," Arthur said. For a moment, Nicholas wondered how the man knew where he lived, taking several moments to remember having been all over national news not even a year earlier. "Just outside of town. If it was clear enough, I could make out Spencer Hill." He finished off his tea and got up to fix himself a second cup, laughing to himself. "You know, the day the Vogons came round, my house was actually torn down for that bypass. Next thing I know, Ford's dragging me off to the pub, force-feeding me peanuts."
Nicholas sighed. "Danny begged me to go to Buford Abbey with him, today," he said, more to himself than to Arthur. "I didn't want to call off just to go buy DVDs with him, and..."
Arthur sighed and moved closer to Nicholas, setting his cup on the table. "Hey," he said, trying to help Nicholas to his feet. "Let's get you cleaned up and settled in. We're going to meet someone important, and it would be best if you didn't, well, smell like a farm animal."
Nicholas allowed himself to be guided across the expansive ship to the living quarters, forcing himself to ignore everything but the very boring, albeit completely ordinary floor. Simple, plain white tile that seemed to neither talk nor do anything special, aside from not fall out from under your feet, which is exactly what any good floor should do.
"So, your friends..." Arthur started, not sure how to address the inspector's travelling companions.
"A constable I've never been able to understand, and a talking dog," Nicholas calmly informed him. "Seems like they'll fit in just fine."
"Right." Arthur pushed a small, blue-silver panel on the wall, triggering a door to slide open into a small bunk; about the same size as the room he'd lived in after his separation with Janine. He hadn't thought about her in several months, but now that he'd never see her again, along with anyone else, except from one very strange man from the West Country, Nicholas wasn't sure he ever wanted to think about anything at all. He didn’t even properly say goodbye the last time they spoke; just showed her up in a fit of single-mindedness. Arthur left Nicholas alone without farewell, figuring it might be best to give him a bit of space.
The inspector slowly took off his stab vest and his belt -- and by proxy, all the gear attached -- and put them gently on the bunk. Leaning over the small washbasin in the corner, Nicholas rubbed his face with his hands. There was no reason to ever look at his gear again. He wasn't a police officer anymore; not an inspector with the Sandford -- or any other British -- constabulary, by any rate. He could wear the uniform and carry the badge, but they no longer meant anything. Just words and symbols that held no worth to anyone beyond the walls of the Heart of Gold.
Nicholas was startled upright when the door behind him slid open suddenly. He turned around, finding one of the men -- the one with only one head -- from the restaurant.
"Sorry," he said, stuttering in his step, slightly. "Should have knocked."
Nicholas shook his head. "No," he said. "It's fine." It really wasn't, but it was easier to lie.
The man called Ford held up an old suede jacket. "Might need this," he said, offering it to Nicholas. "Might be a bit cold, where we're going."
"I'm sorry?" They'd only just arrived, and they were leaving again. Nicholas took the jacket, but hesitated to put it on. "Where are we going?"
Ford smiled kindly. "Zaphod has a meeting with this consortium of bankers and investors," he explained. "We're just trying to figure out how to get there, now."
It made perfect sense. This ragtag group of interstellar nomads had a big fancy ship, and no sense of navigation. He wouldn’t be surprised if the ship were stolen. "You don't know where the meeting is?" Nicholas asked, trying not to sound condescending, despite the seeming illogic of scheduling a meeting without getting directions. "Can't you just tell the on board navigation systems where to go?" It occurred to Nicholas that they would have had the GPS installed in both Imprezas in about two days' time; clearly no excuse for a space ship to not have on board navigation.
Ford took a moment to process Nicholas' question before shaking his head slightly. "No, we know where it is," he said. "Trouble is, the meeting's not for a few hundred centuries, so we need the Improbability Drive."
"I'm sorry?"
"The Improbability Drive," Ford repeated easily as he leaned against the door frame. "It can take you anywhere, and any time, so long as you know the improbability factor of being there at that precise moment."
Nicholas considered that for a moment. "Hang on," he said slowly. "If you know this thing can take you anywhere, wouldn't that mean that you'd already know that you'd be there for the meeting anyway, and make the... whatever factor zero percent?"
At that moment, the entire universe completely ceased to exist.