经典科幻文学:《生命 宇宙及一切》第6章3

I know what it looks like, said Slartibartfast, and went into it. As he did so, Arthur had a sudden vague flash of what it might mean, but he refused to believe it. The Universe could not possibly work like that, he thought, cannot possibly. That, he thought to himself, would be as absurd as… he terminated that line of thinking. Most of the really absurd things he could think of had already happened.
And this was one of them.
It was a large glass cage, or box in fact a room.
In it was a table, a long one. Around it were gathered about a dozen chairs, of the bentwood style. On it was a tablecloth a grubby, red and white check tablecloth, scarred with the occasional cigarette burn, each, presumably, at a precise calculated mathematical position.
And on the tablecloth sat some half-eaten Italian meals, hedged about with half-eaten breadsticks and half-drunk glasses of wine, and toyed with listlessly by robots.
It was all completely artificial. The robot customers were attended by a robot waiter, a robot wine waiter and a robot maetre d’. The furniture was artificial, the tablecloth artificial, and each particular piece of food was clearly capable of exhibiting all the mechanical characteristics of, say, a pollo sorpreso, without actually being one.
And all participated in a little dance together a complex routine involving the manipulation of menus, bill pads, wallets, cheque books, credit cards, watches, pencils and paper napkins, which seemed to be hovering constantly on the edge of violence, but never actually getting anywhere.
Slartibartfast hurried in, and then appeared to pass the time of day quite idly with the maetre d’, whilst one of the customer robots, an autorory, slid slowly under the table, mentioning what he intended to do to some guy over some girl.
Slartibartfast took over the seat which had been thus vacated and passed a shrewd eye over the menu. The tempo of the routine round the table seemed somehow imperceptibly to quicken. Arguments broke out, people attempted to prove things on napkins. They waved fiercely at each other, and attempted to examine each other’s pieces of chicken. The waiter’s hand began to move on the bill pad more quickly than a human hand could manage, and then more quickly than a human eye could follow. The pace accelerated. Soon, an extraordinary and insistent politeness overwhelmed the group, and seconds later it seemed that a moment of consensus was suddenly achieved. A new vibration thrilled through the ship.
Slartibartfast emerged from the glass room.
Bistromathics, he said. The most powerful computational force known to parascience. Come to the Room of Informational Illusions.
He swept past and carried them bewildered in his wake.

“我知道它看上去什么样。”司拉提巴特法斯说着，走了进去。一刹那间，阿瑟的脑中一个念头闪过：这意味着什么？但他拒绝相信这个念头。宇宙不可能是这样的，他想，可不能这样。那样的话——他告诉自己——荒谬得简直……他阻止自己再想下去。在他看来，大部分最荒谬的事都已经过去了。
恰恰这次也是其中之一。
这是一个巨大的玻璃笼子，或者说盒子——实际上是个屋子。
里面有张桌子，很长。桌子四周摆着大约一打椅子，曲木风格的椅子。桌子上面有块桌布——脏兮兮的红白格子桌布。桌布上散布着一些烟疤，每一个的位置都是——很可能——经过某种数学运算所得的结果。
桌布表面，搁着一些没吃完的意大利菜，菜边上摆着没吃完的棍面包、没喝完的红酒，而这一切正被一些无精打采的机器人摆弄着。
一切都是假的。机器客人正在接受机器侍者、机器品酒师和机器领班的服务。家具是假的，桌布是假的，每一样食物都很适合用来做广告——比如“惊喜意式鸡肉饭”什么的——但却不是真正的鸡肉饭。
它们像是在跳集体舞——有着复杂的流程，包括看菜单、送帐单、掏钱包、翻支票夹、签信用卡、看手表、用铅笔和餐巾纸，看上去无限接近一种暴力行为，但从未逾越限度。
司拉提巴特法斯匆匆走进去，然后和领班聊了起来，很悠闲的样子。这时，一位机器客人动作隐蔽地溜到了桌子下面，用眼神向几个女孩暗示着他要对某些家伙做些什么。
于是司拉提巴特法斯坐到那个空位上，朝菜单锐利地瞟了一眼。整个饭桌周围的流程，仿佛一下子加快了速度。争吵爆发了，人们似乎想在餐巾纸上证明点什么问题。他们互相愤怒地挥着手臂，试图去查看彼此的鸡肉。侍者送上帐单的速度，变得比人类力所能及的更快，甚至比人类能看清的更快。速率不断上升。不久，一种奇特而持续的文雅举止重又出现在人们身上。几秒钟之后，大家似乎突然达成了一致意见，全新的氛围又充盈在飞船里了。
司拉提巴特法斯步出玻璃屋。
“意馆数学 ，”他说，“超科学领域迄今为止最强大的计算机动力形式。来，到‘信息幻影屋’里来吧。”
他大步向前，两个困惑的家伙尾随其后。