“I’m sorry, sir, if…”
“I mean where’s the percentage in being kind or helpful to a robot if it doesn’t have any gratitude circuits?”
“And you don’t have any?” said the insect, who didn’t seem to be able to drag itself out of this conversation.
“I’ve never had occasion to find out,” Marvin informed it.
“Listen, you miserable heap of maladjusted metal…”
“Aren’t you going to ask me what I want?”
The insect paused. Its long thin tongue darted out and licked its eyes and darted back again.
“Is it worth it?” it asked.
“Is anything?” said Marvin immediately.
“What… do… you… want?”
“I’m looking for someone.”
“Who?” hissed the insect.
“Zaphod Beeblebrox,” said Marvin, “he’s over there.”
The insect shook with rage. It could hardly speak.
“Then why did you ask me?” it screamed.
“I just wanted something to talk to,” said Marvin.
“What!”
“Pathetic isn’t it?”
With a grinding of gears Marvin turned and trundled off. He caught up with Zaphod approaching the elevators. Zaphod span round in astonishment.
“Hey… Marvin!” he said, “Marvin! How did you get here?”
Marvin was forced to say something which came very hard to him.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“But…”