经典科幻文学:《生命 宇宙及一切》第22章1

Arthur lay floundering in pain on a piece of ripped and dismembered reinforced concrete, flicked at by wisps of passing cloud and confused by the sounds of flabby merrymaking somewhere indistinctly behind him.
There was a sound he couldn’t immediately identify, partly because he didn’t know the tune “I Left my Leg in Jaglan Beta” and partly because the band playing it were very tired, and some members of it were playing it in three-four time, some in four-four, and some in a kind of pie-eyed r2, each according to the amount of sleep he’d managed to grab recently.
He lay, panting heavily in the wet air, and tried feeling bits of himself to see where he might be hurt. Wherever he touched himself, he encountered a pain. After a short while he worked out that this was because it was his hand that was hurting. He seemed to have sprained his wrist. His back, too, was hurting, but he soon satisfied himself that he was not badly hurt, but just bruised and a little shaken, as who wouldn’t be? He couldn’t understand what a building would be doing flying through the clouds.
On the other hand, he would have been a little hard-pressed to come up with any convincing explanation of his own presence, so he decided that he and the building were just going to have to accept each other. He looked up from where he was lying. A wall of pale but stained stone slabs rose up behind him, the building proper. He seemed to be stretched out on some sort of ledge or lip which extended outwards for about three or four feet all the way around. It was a hunk of the ground in which the party building had had its foundations, and which it had taken along with itself to keep itself bound together at the bottom end.
Nervously, he stood up and, suddenly, looking out over the edge, he felt nauseous with vertigo. He pressed himself back against the wall, wet with mist and sweat. His head was swimming freestyle, but someone in his stomach was doing the butterfly.
Even though he had got up here under his own power, he could now not even bear to contemplate the hideous drop in front of him. He was not about to try his luck jumping. He was not about to move an inch closer to the edge.
Clutching his hold-all he edged along the wall, hoping to find a doorway in. The solid weight of the can of olive oil was a great reassurance to him.
He was edging in the direction of the nearest corner, in the hope that the wall around the corner might offer more in the way of entrances than this one, which offered none.
The unsteadiness of the building’s flight made him feel sick with fear, and after a short while he took the towel from out of his hold-all and did something with it which once again justified its supreme position in the list of useful things to take with you when you hitch-hike round the Galaxy. He put it over his head so he wouldn’t have to see what he was doing.
His feet edged along the ground. His outstretched hand edged along the wall.

阿瑟倒在一块支离破碎的钢筋混凝土上，痛得龇牙咧嘴。轻云飘拂而过，耳畔传来隐约的声音，好象是什么狂欢活动。
阿瑟不能马上分辨出这个声音。一是因为他没听过《我把腿留在贾格兰β》这首歌，二是因为乐队已经很累了，有的成员用三四拍演奏，有的用四四拍，有的用醉眼朦胧r2拍——一切取决于他们最近一次补觉的多少。
他躺在地上，一边大口吸着潮湿的空气，一边摸摸自己哪儿受伤了。他觉得摸到哪儿都痛。很快他发现，原来是手受伤了。手腕似乎有点扭伤，背部也有点伤。不过，他很快欣慰地发现伤势都不重，只是受了一点擦伤、一点惊吓罢了。谁能避免呢？他真搞不懂，一栋房子干嘛要在天上飞呢。
话说回来，他同样无法解释自己在天上飞的行为，因此他想自己和房子应该相互理解。阿瑟直起身子，四处看了看。身后，是一面惨白的、脏兮兮的石墙——准确说来是一栋大楼。他自己则处于其边缘伸出的地方，大约有三四尺宽。这是大楼地基附近的地面，楼房要带着它一起飞行才能保持稳定。
他小心翼翼地站起来，朝边缘之外飞快地看了一眼，立即产生了恐高反应。于是他靠回墙壁，雾气和汗水令他浑身湿淋淋的。他脑子里天旋地转，胃里则翻江倒海。
虽说阿瑟是自个儿跑到这儿来的，但他绝不敢冒这种风险。他可不愿去碰运气。他可不愿再往边上多走一步。
他紧紧地攥着旅行包，沿着墙根慢慢走着，希望找到入口。橄榄油的重量给了他不小的安慰。
他朝最近的墙角慢慢移动，希望那边的墙上有几道门，至少比这面没有门的墙好些。
大楼摇摇晃晃的，他感到一阵恐惧。很快，他决定从包里取出那张毛巾并使用之——再次证明了毛巾对于漫游者的广泛用途——他把毛巾盖在头上，这样就看不到自己在做什么了。
他探着步子沿壁而行。一只手摸索着墙。