And Another Thing... Part 28

Random stood her ground. 'Erm... Yes. I guess.'

A hollow opened on the probe's tip. 'Spit, please.'

Random dropped a bubble of saliva into the hollow, which immediately bathed it with a series of lasers. After several moments, a green light winked on.

'Ident.i.ty confirmed. Here is your package and thank you for purchasing with uBid.'

An envelope dropped from the robot arm into Random's waiting hand.

'Thank you,' she said in a small, guilty voice.

'Enjoy your product,' said the probe. 'And if you have any complaints, please feel free to write them on a b.u.mpy log then hammer said log into your auditory ca.n.a.l.' The probe swivelled back towards the s.h.i.+p. 'Mission complete,' it said. 'That's the last one.'

There was a m.u.f.fled cheer from inside the gigantic s.h.i.+p, then its structure slumped and began the slow process of falling apart.

Random was young and her lungs were full of concentrated dark matter and so, without considering all the possible consequences, she tore open the envelope and ran along the fence to where Thor was patiently enduring a little pep talk from Hillman Hunter.

'Put these on your hammer,' she said, interrupting the Nanite leader.

The Thunder G.o.d frowned. 'I thought I heard something. Sort of a squeak squeak squeaky squeak.'

'Down here!' shouted Random.

Thor bent over, elbows on knees. 'Oh, look. A little girl. Oh, my G.o.ds, are you a fan? Do you want an autograph, is that it? I don't usually do school appearances, but I could make an exception.'

Random wasted a second fuming, then: 'Listen to me, weatherman. I researched immortals on the Sub-Etha, and out of the thousands of hits I found on the topic there was not a single tested and confirmed method of killing one.'

Zaphod chuckled. 'But this is Thor, girly. You can't test and confirm him. He's the big time, big as he wants to be.'

'Hmm, okay. Well, he is going to look big-time stupid in front of all these people when he can't kill the green man.'

'That's not going to happen,' said Thor, without much conviction.

'It won't happen if you put these on the head of your hammer.'

'Nothing goes on the hammer, kid. Mjollnir stays pure.'

Random spoke slowly, so the Thunder G.o.d would get the picture. 'I did manage to find a theory by a little-known scientist on an unregarded world that said that an immortal can only be killed by an object that has come from the same transformational event.'

Even Zaphod could follow that. 'So, what did transform Wowbagger?'

'He fell into a particle accelerator trying to retrieve a couple of elastic bands. Bands that I bought on uBid from the high priest of the Temple of Wowbagger.'

Thor reached out a finger and thumb.

'Why don't I put those bands on my hammer?' he said.

Bowerick Wowbagger the Infinitely Prolonged was feeling a little light-headed and it was a feeling he relished, as it reminded him of when he was mortal. He dragged himself from the crack in the earth and lay gasping in crisped curls of gra.s.s as the uBid s.h.i.+p fell to pieces behind him.

More intrigue, he thought. I can't say that today hasn't been interesting. I can't say that today hasn't been interesting.

As he lay there prostrated in the dirt, thinking as usual about himself and his now unlikely death, he saw that there was someone else on the ground.

Trillian.

And this was the moment when Wowbagger knew for sure that he was in love, because at that moment he stopped thinking about how Trillian related to him and started to think about Trillian herself.

Is she harmed? What's happened?

Wowbagger shook off his wooziness and jumped to his feet.

'I'm coming!' he called, leaning into a run. 'I'm coming.'

A shadow fell across Wowbagger's face. Something mountainous obscured his view of Trillian.

'Time for the big one,' said Thor, bending over, so his head appeared bizarrely upside-down.

How does his helmet stay on? wondered Wowbagger. wondered Wowbagger.

Then Mjollnir hit him with such injurious force that it sent him straight into the stratosphere.

Arthur was deep in conversation with a pootle-tink bird when he saw Trillian keel over.

'No,' he was explaining. 'The game is called called cricket. A cricket. A wicket wicket is made up of stumps and uprights... Oh, good lord.' is made up of stumps and uprights... Oh, good lord.'

'Come on,' said the bird. 'It's very confusing. So when a person runs, it's called a run?'

But the oh, good lord oh, good lord was not directed at the bird; rather it was blurted involuntarily as Trillian fainted dead away. Arthur dropped the soya yogurt he had been enjoying and raced along the fence to where Trillian lay, unmoving. was not directed at the bird; rather it was blurted involuntarily as Trillian fainted dead away. Arthur dropped the soya yogurt he had been enjoying and raced along the fence to where Trillian lay, unmoving.

This is disgraceful, he fumed. Her own daughter, our own daughter, is walking away. What has happened to Random? That child needs to be taken in hand. Her own daughter, our own daughter, is walking away. What has happened to Random? That child needs to be taken in hand.

This last was a statement oft repeated in the Dent household when Arthur was a boy. His father trotted it out at every opportunity, whenever Arthur strayed even minutely into proscribed behaviour. The taking in hand generally involved a stern talking to, which invariably featured the Second World War, garden sheds, philately and upper lips of the stiff kind. At the end of each lecture, young Arthur had been allowed a nip from his father's brandy flask, just to put hair on his chest. So whenever Arthur thought about these disciplinary chats he felt sad, then merry, then sleepy, then woke up with a headache.

Arthur knelt beside Trillian and awkwardly cradled her head in the crook of one elbow.

'There, there,' he said. 'If you can hear me, Trillian, I just want you to know that you look great. I know ladies spend a lot of time worrying how their outfits look, in car crash situations and so on.'

Giving comfort to females had never been one of Arthur Dent's strong suits. In fact if comfort giving comfort giving had been an actual advertised position, Arthur would never have made it past the first interview, especially if there had been a practical exam. had been an actual advertised position, Arthur would never have made it past the first interview, especially if there had been a practical exam.

Guide Note: For the past three decades of real time, the human Arthur Dent had made his life infinitely more miserable than it needed to be by displaying a spectacular ability to say the right thing but at the wrong time. When Arthur Dent's best friend from university, Jason Kingsley, had been dumped after three years by the love of his life, Stacey Hempton, Arthur a.s.sured him that he would not be lonely for long, as slappers like Stacey were easy to come by in any disco. When his Irish Aunt Maedhbhdhb (p.r.o.nounced Hilda) had received a lethal blow from a falling church gargoyle, Arthur had whispered in her ear: 'At least the cigarettes won't kill you now, eh, Aunty?' Arthur's tactlessness is only surpa.s.sed by that of Galactic President Zaphod Beeblebrox, who once presented PeeBee Anjay, the gelatinous king of s.h.i.+vers City, with a leopardskin thong as a birthday present. Kingsley, had been dumped after three years by the love of his life, Stacey Hempton, Arthur a.s.sured him that he would not be lonely for long, as slappers like Stacey were easy to come by in any disco. When his Irish Aunt Maedhbhdhb (p.r.o.nounced Hilda) had received a lethal blow from a falling church gargoyle, Arthur had whispered in her ear: 'At least the cigarettes won't kill you now, eh, Aunty?' Arthur's tactlessness is only surpa.s.sed by that of Galactic President Zaphod Beeblebrox, who once presented PeeBee Anjay, the gelatinous king of s.h.i.+vers City, with a leopardskin thong as a birthday present.

Arthur poked Trillian's cheek with a finger.

'Trillian,' he said, softly but urgently. 'Come on. Wake up.' She did not respond, so Arthur thought back to the first-aid afternoon course he had been required to attend by the BBC. As far as he could recollect, most of the afternoon had been spent changing the plug on a coffee machine, but hadn't there been some demonstration involving a plastic dummy with balloons for lungs? Mouth to mouth?

Arthur had no idea if what he was about to clumsily attempt was the correct course of action, but nevertheless it cheered him a little to have a course of action to attempt.

He placed Trillian's head on the soft gra.s.s and leaned over her.

'You gotta pinch the nose and tilt the head back,' said a voice from behind his shoulder. It was the bird he had been talking to.

I met this bird downtown, thought Arthur, choking down a hysterical giggle.

He parted Trillian's lips with his thumb and took a deep breath.

I'm nervous. Why am I nervous?

'Go on, man. Do it!'

This bird was really pushy.

Arthur bobbed a little, then dived in. Their lips locked and Arthur sealed the corners with his thumbs, then blew. There was no reaction initially; it felt to Arthur like he was blowing into a tunnel. Then Trillian's arms came up around his neck and she kissed him pa.s.sionately.

What? Unexpected. Once upon a time this kiss would have been a dream come true.

Arthur pulled back and saw that Trillian's eyes were open and gla.s.sy with tears.

'Arthur... I thought...'

And Arthur immediately understood. 'It's Wowbagger. You love him.'

Once, this realization would have shattered Arthur's world, if he'd had a world to shatter, but now all he felt was a deep empathy for Trillian, who was about to lose her love as he had lost his.

'Yes, I do love him,' said Trillian, nodding, and the motion set rivulets of tears flowing down her cheeks. 'Something happened in dark s.p.a.ce to speed up the falling in love falling in love process. Where is he?' process. Where is he?'

Arthur glanced into the scorched meadow just in time to see Wowbagger begin his ascent to the stratosphere. And being well aware of his record of tactlessness, Arthur tried to say something non-specific. 'Oh... He's around. You rest here, I'll go and get him.'

Random watched Wowbagger shoot off into the sky, but the sight did not fill her with a sense of triumph as she had believed it would. In fact, she felt that in some tiny way she herself might be a little responsible for the friction that had existed between them. This feeling soon pa.s.sed and the triumph came flooding in.

That's right, you green freak. Off you go to the afterlife.

tiny voice: How could you? Green freak? You fought for equality for all species throughout the Galaxy. How little it takes to strip away your veneer.

Shut up, thought Random. You're not real. You never happened and, anyway, the green freak kissed my mother You're not real. You never happened and, anyway, the green freak kissed my mother.

Up and up Wowbagger went, flailing all the way, until he disappeared altogether.

And that's what happens when you put Random Dent in a tube.

Arthur appeared before her, arms crossed, body language shouting 'I am not happy'.

'What did you do, Random?'

Random crossed her own arms. 'Nothing. What are you talking about?'

'You gave Thor something, I saw you. And suddenly he's able to hurt Wowbagger. So I'm going to ask you again: What did you do?'

Random was not about to be broken that easily. 'And I'm going to tell you again: I didn't do anything.'

'What is it, Random? Do you want to punish your mother, is that it?'

'No.'

'Why are you doing this to her? Can't you see she's in love with that Wowbagger person? You may not like it, but that's the way it is.'

'You're right. I don't like it.'

'So you're helping Thor.'

Random was stony-faced. 'I'm way over here. How could I be helping Thor?'

Arthur tried another tack. 'Weren't you in love, Random? Don't you remember how that felt?'

Random jerked back as though slapped, and her hand flew instinctively to her chest, to the spot where her beloved Fertle used to nestle.

'Yes, I remember love. My love is gone, so why should she be happy?'

'You're doing this because Trillian left you?'

'Yes, she left me, but I succeeded in spite of her. All those years slaving in a clerk's office, working my way up. But I did it.'

Arthur gripped his daughter's shoulder and stared deep into her eyes, past the resonance of dark s.p.a.ce, through to the volatile, compa.s.sionate girl inside.

'You didn't do it. There was no clerk's office. And Trillian did not desert you for decades, she left you with your father for a week while she went on a job. That's all she did. Nothing worse than that. You were the one who brought us all to Earth and you were the one who created your own bitter existence. It was all you, Random. So stop being so utterly selfish and tell me how to save that poor man.'

This was a pretty good argument. Random could see that she had underestimated her father.

'But...'

'No buts!' Arthur thundered just like a real dad. 'Tell me now, young lady.'

Suddenly the dark mist cleared and Random could see the truth of what she was doing. Emotion welled up in her young heart and she admitted her guilt with a tut and rolling of the eyes, which is more than you'd get out of most adolescents.

'Take a step back, Arthur. You don't have to be so dramatic about it. Okay, I may have given Thor a couple of elastic bands that Wowbagger is allergic to. Possibly. Is that enough of a confession for you, Arthur Arthur, or should I fall to my knees and beg for forgiveness?'

Arthur was rather enjoying the rush of paternal power. 'You, young lady,' he said, 'can call me "Daddy". For at least ten more years.'

Charged with success, Arthur strode manfully to the centre of the scorched X, where Zaphod was ma.s.saging Thor's shoulder.

I cannot believe I'm about to do this again, he thought, but not too loudly in case his legs heard and turned him round.

'I haven't really hit someone in so long,' Thor was saying. 'I should practise, I know, but you get lazy. Nice arc to the swing though, should look great in slo-mo.'

'Is he dead?'

Thor c.o.c.ked an ear to the sky. 'Nope. I can hear him coughing. He's hurt though, badly. He's certainly not the man he was. One more whack should definitely do it.'

Ford arrived in the centre at the same time as Arthur.