“That was close,” Fleeb Mungwort said, wiping his brow after the two pan-dimensional hyper-intelligent beings left the massive computational chamber.
“I can’t believe they bought the whole bit about the successor computer,” Ploox Vendarf said, tying her head tentacles back into a tail. “That bit about Earth? Truly a stroke of genius!”
“The problem remains,” an annoyed Dr. Xanthrop Blizznax cut in, “that the only thing we’ve done is bought more time.”
“Time is all we’ve ever had,” Flummox Dreep said. “The computer they thought they built was never, could never actually be built. We’ve delayed the problem for a few millennia, we can do it again, of course.”
“That’s not the point!” Dr. Blizznax shouted. “When they come back, they’ll expect an answer. A real one. Not something idiotic like ‘fourty-two.’”
“What if the question was ‘what do you get when you multiply six by seven?’” Fleeb suggested.
“Imbicile!” Dr. Blizznax cursed. “What kind of ultimate, universal truth is that?”
“They were never very specific about the question,” Ploox said, trying to calm down the situation.
“What we need,” Tharnix Jubjub chimed in, speaking for the first time in ages, “is a good, old fashioned bureaucratic catastrophe. Something that will solve the problem for us.” The others turned to them and Tharnix smiled, pleased by the attention.
“Speak more,” Flummox said eagerly.
“Well,” they said, settling in. “We’ve already told them that a new computer is being built and that this computer is a planet called Earth…” They paused grandly. Finally, when the others could stand it no longer, they all said, “Go on!” in unison.
“Yes. Well, obviously we cannot build this planet. Such things are possible, of course, but I’m nearing retirement and that seems like a lot of work.” They paused again, smiling.
“Yes, yes, get on with it!” Dr. Blizznax said, impatiently.
“All we need to do is find a suitable extant planet, call it ‘Earth’, and then put in a proposal for a hyperspace bypass. A hyperspace bypass, mind you, that just so happens to intersect with this planet ‘Earth’. The problem will be solved for us, we can all retire peacefully, and the universe will have another helpful hyperspace bypass!” Tharnix wiped their gelatinous hands as if that was all there was to it.
The others looked at each other thoughtfully. None of them were philosophers, thinkers or scientists. They were descendants of engineers and computer programmers, but engineers and computer programmers who realized the limitations of the materials with which they were working and solved a different, easier problem instead — rather than designing the most intelligent computer in existence, they built the most intelligent looking computer in existence, and trained their children and grandchildren the fine art of bullshitting. “Make them believe anything is possible if you just give it a little more time,” they said, and for thousands of years, they maintained the facade of a hyper-intelligent computer attempting to come up with the answer to the ultimate question, a question that, if you asked any of them now, none of them would have been able to repeat in its entirety.
“Truth is…malleable,” Dr. Blizznax pondered. “If their truth is that this ‘Earth’ is a vastly complicated computer capable of organic processes feeding into the calculation of the ultimate question, it shouldn’t be difficult to convince them that this is the case. Indeed, we already have.”
“I’m sure the Vogons would be more than happy to cut a new hyperspace bypass given a well-worded and correctly-filed proposal,” Flummox suggested.
“I’ll start working on the paperwork right away!” Fleeb said eagerly. Fleeb Mungwort wasn’t the smartest but he could definitely fill out forms.
“I’ll never get over the ridiculous things these morons will continue to believe,” Ploox mused, searching the Guide for the entry on hyperspace bypass proposals.
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