A lot of them didn’t make it through the winter three years ago, he said, and the few who remained in the spring said they needed a holiday and set off on a raft. History says that they must have survived…
Huh, said Ford, well well. He stuck his hands on his hips and looked round again at the empty world. Suddenly, there was about Ford a sense of energy and purpose.
We’re going, he said excitedly, and shivered with energy.
Where? How? said Arthur.
I don’t know, said Ford, but I just feel that the time is right. Things are going to happen. We’re on our way.
He lowered his voice to a whisper.
I have detected, he said, disturbances in the wash.
He gazed keenly into the distance and looked as if he would quite like the wind to blow his hair back dramatically at that point, but the wind was busy fooling around with some leaves a little way off.
Arthur asked him to repeat what he had just said because he hadn’t quite taken his meaning. Ford repeated it.
The wash? said Arthur.
The space-time wash, said Ford, and as the wind blew briefly past at that moment, he bared his teeth into it.
Arthur nodded, and then cleared his throat.
Are we talking about, he asked cautiously, some sort of Vogon laundromat, or what are we talking about?
Eddies, said Ford, in the space-time continuum.
Ah, nodded Arthur, is he? Is he? He pushed his hands into the pocket of his dressing gown and looked knowledgeably into the distance.
What? said Ford.
Er, who, said Arthur, is Eddy, then, exactly?
Ford looked angrily at him.
n. 逆流,漩涡 v. 起漩涡