A Second Encounter

Silas Janzen

Arthur sat on a small chair. It seemed much too small for him, but he sat there anyways, because it was there. Then he stood up; being much too cramped for his own good. He got up, and walked around the room. He hadn't really much noticed his settings before, as he was still dizzy from how he had arrived, which was something that he didn’t even know himself. He wondered to himself where Ford Prefect, or, for that matter, anybody, had got to, because the room seemed to be deadly silent, and devoid of any humans other than himself. He examined his surroundings, having nothing else to do. He appeared to be standing in a very strictly square room. The walls were bare white, with no features, not even velveteen Elvis, or an extremely tacky, plastic electric fireplace. The room was white on the floor as well as the walls, and so white that Arthur found it hard to see. He lunged out, feeling that he was falling into endless whiteness, and fell flat on his face. He got up, and brushed himself off, still wobbling disconcertedly. Before he could gather up what was left of his understanding, the doors slid open, making a loud, mechanical "Whirrrrrrrrrr", and a even louder "KA-CHUNK!" as they stopped, halfway open and creaked menacingly, then fell, very slowly, to the floor, where they crashed, revealing...nothing. Just a long, fog-filled corridor. Suddenly, a sharp wind blew into the room, blowing Arthur down onto the ground, coughing at all the smoke that had so suddenly blew into his face.

"Arthur..." a voice boomed across the barren white floor, where Arthur lay, his back, legs and arms hurting painfully now.

Arthur recognized the voice immediately. It was Agrajag, who once had tried to kill him for his many slaughtering of his various reincarnations. "Not you, again," Arthur yelled, loudly, so that his voice could be heard, "You died!"

Arthur could sense the entity's anger even though he could not see it. "Of course I did. An extremely embarrassing incident and one I had successfully wiped from my memory no less than three days ago. You prat. That is all in the past, however, this time I will make doubly sure that you do perish a horrible and untimely death."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

Arthur had no reply, and no way to get out of this situation. The more he thought of it, the more hopeless it seemed.

"Well, what are you going to do," Arthur heard himself yell across the room, addressing the invisible Agrajag.

With a loud, strained laugh from Agrajag, like someone who was attempting to laugh evilly but found he hadn’t the strength to finish, there was a louder "Whirrrrrrrrrrrrgchhhhhhk!" from the doorway, for the motors had no glass to catch on, and they stopped.

"Oh, dear. Has the doorway stuck?" He inquired."

"Er," Arthur said, confused. He had not expected this to happen, "yes?" he questioned, as if afraid that this was the wrong answer to give a person who was already obsessed with killing him. It probably was.

Agrajag yelled. A loud, pained, howling yell, which made Arthur’s hands fly to his ears. "I don’t care!" he said, quickly, quietly, almost to himself, "Yes, I will. I'll do it anyway," he said, breathing in short quick gasps, his voice hurried. He had obviously been pushed over the brink. And before Arthur began to speak, even open his mouth, a thick, black fog leaked its way into the room. It engulfed arthur, blinded him. His eyes stung sharply. He breathed in, which was a mistake, for his lungs filled with the black smoke and his chest burned, as if there was a bonfire being lit inside his lungs. He doubled over in pain, and, in his shock, breathed more of the awful smoke. Now he felt like collapsing on all fours and vomiting. He fanned his arms pitifully at the smoke, and blundered forward. Now seeking out the doorway through the blackness, he found a pile of sharp glass shards from the fallen door. The shards tore at the skin of his feet, making him hop forward. His feet were becoming more ripped and torn, slipping on some of the larger panes of glass. He successfully navigated through the shards, at the cost of a pair of damaged and bloodied feet. He now found himself in a corridor, still blinded with smoke that had followed him through the door. He ran for a short distance, he bumped into what seemed like a man's figure, except it was metal, and a little short.

"Hello, Arthur. Have i told you how depressed I am?" Marvin spoke, in the same, sullen monotone.

"Marvin!" Arthur spoke hoarsely. The dark fog, whatever what was, was starting to affected him.

"You aren't glad to see me, are you," said Marvin, sulkily.

"Of course--" Arthur fell into a coughing fit, but managed to finish his scentence, "--I am! Please...get me...out!" Arthur was starting to lose consciousness. He was feeling rather dull and light-headed.

"Oh, thats what it is, isn't it. It's always the same," marvin droned, "'Marvin, could you fetch me that peice of paper, Marvin, could you fix the Nutrimatic, Marvin, could you save me from a nearly inescaplable near-death situation...'"

"Oh, belgium!" Arthur groaned as he fell to the floor, and promptly passed out.

Arthur appeared to be lying down. Everything was so very bright. It hurt his eyes.

He closed them, opened them again slowly. His eyes focused and he noticed a figure walking towards him. Was it Trillian? His heart gave a leap. He closed his eyes again. The brightness was too unbearable to look at. He felt a hand on his cheek. The hand left his cheek. He felt angry. He reached out, murmured "Trillian..." the hand came back, but this time it slapped him, hard, on the cheek. A voice called out.

"Arthur! Arthur, wake up!"

Arthur was jolted into consciousness. He sat up, eyes still closed. "Trillian?"

"No, it's Ford!"

"Yeah, we're at this really hoopy party," Zaphod's voice interrupted.

Arthur groaned. Here we go again...