“Well,” said Ford Prefect, “after all that, I think I need a drink.
“Who’d like a quick glass of Janx Spirit? Or a slow one? Or several?”
They had all returned to the Starship Bistromath and told Slartibartfast and the girls of the successful outcome of their trip.
“The universe is safe once more,” Slartibartfast had said with relief. “At least for this moment in time.”
Zaphod had been initially stunned by the fact that Trillian/Tricia had revived and seem so unconcerned by the fact that the two of them had been merged into one being. They had gone to one of the ship’s lounges for a long, hard, chat.
“Janx Spirit?” The words triggered a memory from far back in Fenchurch’s mind.
“Ford, do you remember a monk by the name of Mandrax?”
“Of course I do,” replied Ford. “Helluva guy… Always trying to save us from ourselves but still managing to have a great time while doing it. I was really gutted to hear he’d died.”
“Died?” Fenchurch questioned, not believing what she had heard.
“Yeah, he died some years back. Used his mind powers to help some lost traveller but the strain was too much for him and he died just after. Tragedy, really but it was the way he would have wanted it – giving his life to help others.”
Fenchurch burst into tears.
Arthur ran to her and tried to console her but she sobbed uncontrollably. Between the tears she just managed to tell the story of her meeting with Mandrax.
The sad tale put a damper on the celebration and the group sat morosely in the central computational area sipping cups of coffee while Arthur comforted Fenchurch.
A short while later they returned to the room. Her eyes were red but she had stopped crying. She spoke with a firm calmness.
“Slartibartfast,” she said. “I know you would not wish for us to mess with time again and nothing I can do can save Mandrax but can we please just do one small thing?”
“If I can… “ said the old man.
So she explained.
¨
In a little use corner of the great spaceport the old monk stood leaning against a pillar. Since the girl had left he had begun to feel even worse. His head was pounding; he could feel each of his hearts missing beats. His skin was clammy, his legs weak.
He thought to himself “this is it, I have fulfilled my purpose, I can do no more.”
Suddenly there appeared before him a small, bobbing robot.
“Hi there!” it chimed happily, “is your name Mandrax?”
“Why, yes” said the monk, puzzled.
“My name’s Colin and I have a message for you” and with that, he began to project an image onto the glass of the dome just over Mandrax’s head.
The image displayed the letters of God’s Last Message, one at a time, downloaded from Marvin’s memory banks.
Mandrax watched in utter amazement as the message unfolded.
When it had finished a quiet female voice said “Thank you for everything.”
The old monk peacefully closed his eyes.