Chapter Eight
Trillian was watching the ship from the ridge and saw Ford and Zaphod emerge through the hatchway. Ford was carrying something, and they appeared to be in some kind of distress. She then noticed a change of quality in the light around the ship, and realised that it was the headlights from the jeep. Marsha and the berserker were returning.
Trillian ran back to the track-buggy.
Ford, on seeing the jeep, ran back up the ramp, and was overtaken by Zaphod who, despite his earlier protestations, no longer appeared to have any trouble controlling Arthur's body. He shot past Ford like a gazelle who'd spotted a cheetah haring towards it. They quickly disappeared through the hatchway and ducked out of sight. Marsha fired off a couple of shots hitting the frame of the hatchway. Ford heard the altercation, which ensued. The berserker was not happy with Marsha firing on his ship. There hadn't been any return fire so the intruders were probably unarmed. He would go up the ramp and flush them out, and Marsha could pick them off as they emerged.
He was half-way up when Marvin emerged from the hatchway, wearing the Portable Weapons Inhibitor Field. Heavy straps held it in place. Little red lights blinked about him. He was lit up like Robbie the Robot in festive mode. Ford and Zaphod crept along behind him. The berserker backed off.
Trillian manoeuvred the track-buggy over the ridge before turning off the engine and letting gravity take over. The vehicle slid down the hill. Marsha attempted a couple of shots at Marvin. The Field nullified the danger, and Marvin came on. Silently the track-buggy bore down on Marsha, and charitably, albeit at the very last moment, Trillian switched on the lights, and sounded the horn. Marsha leapt to her left, and only just avoided falling under the tracks of the vehicle. She did not, however, keep her balance on the edge of the slope, used by the Metaslug for its constitutional. She slid down the slimy embankment and disappeared from view.
The track-buggy glided on and Trillian turned the wheel hard to the left. Slewing sideways the tracks caught at the top of the slope, which had claimed Marsha. Frantically, Trillian started the engine. It fired, but too late and the track-buggy disappeared backwards down the incline.
Dritsek, schloop in hand, circled Marvin. Ford and Zaphod also circled Marvin taking great care to keep their metal mate between them and the berserker.
"Come out and fight you snivelling little shits!"
The snivelling little shits had other ideas.
"Listen," shouted Ford, "you'll never get off this planet in that old crate. Would you like a lift somewhere?"
"From what I understand," the berserker shouted, "you're in the same boat. We've taken care of it. The Heart of Gold is stopping right where it is until we say otherwise. So I suggest you stop arsing about and hand the jar over to me."
"But the brain's of no use to you. It's the wrong one, remember?" Ford shouted back.
"So you say. You may have fooled Marsha with your little deception. However, I'm not so sure. No matter who the brain belongs to, it's still valuable to somebody. Otherwise you wouldn't have gone to all this trouble to get it back," shouted the berserker.
"Let him have it," said Zaphod, "it's not much use to us, and I don't suppose Arthur will miss it. Not really."
It was then that Mooncalf put in an appearance. He carried a suitcase in one hand, and a Brockian Ultra-Cricket bat in the other. Casually, Mooncalf walked down the ramp, and positioned himself behind the stout little man who hadn't seen him. He put the suitcase down, and took a firm grip of the bat with both hands in the classic offensive style, raised it above his head, and then brought it down smartly on the back of the berserker's skull. Dritsek went down and stayed down.
Ford stared in disbelief.
Zaphod peered around Marvin to view the diminutive figure of Mooncalf standing over the battle-smocked berserker. "Thanks, man. So... er, what's with the valise? Going on holiday? I can think of better planets. It's not exactly sun, sea and sipping juice. More slugs, slime and slippery underfoot."
"Actually," said Mooncalf, "I'm coming with you. It's all been arranged. I've been speaking with your leader, Zaphod Beeblebrox. I think you'd better tie me up in case Marsha comes back."
Marvin still had work to do. He didn't wait to be asked, as he could not conceive of the possibility of anybody else putting themselves out, when they had him to put himself out for them. He trudged to the point at which Marsha, and Trillian, in the track-buggy, had vanished. Marvin surveyed the scene below, picked his spot, and launched himself over the edge. On the way down, he collected Marsha who had been trying to clamber back up. She screamed as she saw the illuminated robot hurtling towards her, and didn't stop when Marvin got a grip on her flailing arms. At the bottom, Marvin got to his feet, and pointed Marsha head first at the greasy slope leading down to the next level, before propelling her along the ground. Again, Marsha disappeared from view, her screams of indignation falling away.
Mooncalf did not want to reveal his defection, with the dombots watching, several of whom had gathered at the hatchway, and so it fell to Ford to fetch a rope from the Knapsacker. He tied one end to the ship, and threw the other down to Marvin to attach to the track-buggy. It was then a simple matter for the metal marvel to use the rope to haul himself back up to the Knapsacker's level, and once at the top, heave the vehicle and Trillian up after him.