And Another Thing... Part 7

'Alive and procreating, sir.'

'I do not believe it. Well, this is a turn-up for the files. You pull over in the uncharted backwaters of the unfas.h.i.+onable end of the Western Spiral Arm of the Galaxy and who do you find bobbing around in the atmosphere but...'

'Zaphod Beeblebrox,' completed Arthur, eager to move things along. 'Listen, I hate to be a worry-wart, but those death rays are getting awfully close. That big one in particular.'

The green alien ignored him. 'Mr President. I've wanted to say something to you for a very long time. I've prepared prepared something. Can you spare a second? You would really be doing me a favour.' something. Can you spare a second? You would really be doing me a favour.'

Zaphod took a step back, just in case the alien could not see every inch of him.

Guide Note: Technically, there were no aliens on the s.h.i.+p, just s.p.a.ce travellers. As soon as the 'alien's' ident.i.ty is revealed we can abandon that cla.s.sification.

'Of course you may say a few words. My colleagues would be honoured. I am naturally too important to feel honoured, but I would be mildly amused.'

The alien alien bowed slightly, reached into his suit jacket for a wafer computer, located a text file and cleared his throat. bowed slightly, reached into his suit jacket for a wafer computer, located a text file and cleared his throat.

'You, Mr President...' he began.

'Yes, proceed.'

'You, Mr President...'

'Old news, move on.'

'You, Mr President, are the most philosophunculistic, moronic, steatopygic excuse for a politician that it has ever been my good fortune to not vote for, and if I thought for one second that this c.r.a.ppy Universe deserved any better, then I would pay, out of my own pocket, you understand, to have you a.s.sa.s.sinated.'

Zaphod half caught the last insulting term. 'Steatowhat?'

'Steatopygic. Fat a.r.s.ed.'

'Fat a.r.s.ed!' gasped Zaphod, pawing at his own lips. 'Fat a.r.s.ed?'

Arthur's memories were still coming back, so it took him a second even with such well-phrased stimuli.

'I know you. You're the guy with the insults.'

The alien took a photo of Arthur with his computer, then searched for a match in his files.

'Ah, yes. Arthur Philip Dent. Jerk and complete a.r.s.ehole. I've done you already, my records tell me.'

Zaphod rested his hands on his knees. 'Fat a.r.s.ed. I feel faint.'

Guide Note: This 'alien', it can now be revealed, was Wowbagger the Infinitely Prolonged, who became immortal due to an accident involving a particle accelerator and an unwillingness to sacrifice two of his elastic bands. It must be pointed out that elastic bands held a special significance to Wowbagger as, in his culture, elastic bands are religious symbols representing the circuitous and elastic nature of the G.o.d Pollyphill-Ah. After his accident, the Arch Promonate of the Church of C&E proclaimed that Wowbagger's newfound immortality was a definite sign to the faithful. Wowbagger proclaimed that it was a definite pain in the a.r.s.e and it had put him right off elastic bands. After several millennia wallowing in sulky boredom, Wowbagger set himself the challenge of visiting every occupied world in the Universe to sample their indigenous beers. This was the beginning of what historians call his amber period, during which Wowbagger put on a lot of weight and discovered a talent for insulting people. One morning, Wowbagger realized, after his morning retch, that he actually enjoyed insultingpeople more than drinking beer, and so decided to switch challenges in mid-stream. His new task, he determined, would be to insult every single sentient being in the Universe in alphabetical order. Because Wowbagger was such a good-looking guy, and his s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p had such distinctive lines, the media soon got wind of his quest, and Wowbagger would land on a planet to discover the entire population lined up, in alphabetical order, screaming to be insulted, which kind of took the good out of it for him. morning, Wowbagger realized, after his morning retch, that he actually enjoyed insultingpeople more than drinking beer, and so decided to switch challenges in mid-stream. His new task, he determined, would be to insult every single sentient being in the Universe in alphabetical order. Because Wowbagger was such a good-looking guy, and his s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p had such distinctive lines, the media soon got wind of his quest, and Wowbagger would land on a planet to discover the entire population lined up, in alphabetical order, screaming to be insulted, which kind of took the good out of it for him.

'You came through the death-ray lattice?' asked Arthur urgently. 'In your s.h.i.+p?'

Wowbagger shrugged. 'Of course. My s.h.i.+p is made of dark matter and powered by dark energy. These Grebulons operate with mere baryonic materials. They can't understand my s.h.i.+p, never mind stop it.'

'Can you shut them down? The beams?'

Wowbagger pocketed his wafer computer. 'No. They are loose in real s.p.a.ce. The Earth is doomed, which is a pity, as there are many people left to insult on your planet. But at least I got Beeblebrox, eh? Out of order, true, but you make exceptions for his calibre of idiot. So, not a total disaster of a day.' Wowbagger rubbed his hands briskly. 'Anyway. A pleasure to meet you all; probably won't be the next time.'

Trillian switched on her reporter's smile. 'Mr Wowbagger. Trillian Astra. We met on New Betel. You were kind enough to give me five minutes.'

'Ah, yes. New Betel. I'd just done the king, hadn't I? Called him a festering pustule. That was a bit of a low period for me. Everything was festering or septic.'

'Maybe you read my article in WooHoo WooHoo?'

'I never read press. You start believing it, you see. Look at Beeblebrox there. He actually believes that he's some froody superstar, instead of the philosophunculistic b.u.mpkin that he actually is.'

Zaphod was just pulling himself together from fat a.r.s.ed fat a.r.s.ed when the b.u.mpkin comment socked him in the gut. when the b.u.mpkin comment socked him in the gut.

'b.u.mpkin? Ooooh. What... You monster monster.'

Trillian persisted. 'I wonder, could you give us a lift? Just as far as the next planet.'

'Impossible,' snapped Wowbagger. 'I travel through dark s.p.a.ce. Mortals are not supposed to see dark s.p.a.ce, it affects them.'

'We're prepared to take that risk. We wouldn't be any trouble.'

Wowbagger raised an eyebrow. 'Beeblebrox wouldn't be any trouble? I doubt that. He's a fugitive from someone or other, isn't he?'

Trillian hoisted Zaphod erect. 'The President will behave himself. Won't you, Zaphod?'

Zaphod mumbled something.

'See? He said will do will do.'

'I thought he said kill you kill you.'

Arthur bobbed in front of Zaphod, trying to catch his rolling eyes. 'You didn't say that, mate. Did you? No. Because that would be insane, right? Threatening to kill the one person who could save our lives.'

Zaphod drew himself erect, breath growling deep in his throat. 'He called me a fat-a.r.s.ed b.u.mpkin. I cannot allow him to live.'

'Oh, c.r.a.p,' said Ford.

Wowbagger's mood s.h.i.+fted from polite boredom to impolite boredom. 'Don't you think people have tried to kill me before? In my line of work, I attract enemies like a flaybooz attracts lint.'

Random sobbed into her fists.

'I keep track of my pursuers for my own amus.e.m.e.nt. Currently I am being chased by over a hundred bounty hunters, sixteen government vessels, a few unmanned Smart-O-Missiles and half a dozen wannabe immortals who would love to eat my heart and steal my powers. If only it were that easy. I long for death, I crave it the way this idiot craves publicity. I have been alive long enough to realize that there is no such thing as perfect love. That's too long.'

'I could kill you,' said Zaphod. 'I've got some juice in this Universe. I know people who know stuff. Did you ever go a few rounds with the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast?'

Wowbagger snorted. 'That old bag of bolts? I hope you can do better than that.'

Arthur cupped his hands around his face and peered though the porthole. The beam was almost upon them now. Arthur thought he could hear a whine of energy, though he knew that was impossible.

I probably can't hear the screams of the dying, either, he thought.

'Trillian,' he called over his shoulder. 'I really think it would be rather a good thing if Zaphod stopped talking. Do we have any stun guns?'

Zaphod was only getting started. 'I can do better. You ever take a shot from a spiderwitch?'

'I have, actually. I mix them into my c.o.c.ktails. No adverse effects.'

'What about a plasma axe? Those things will split your atoms for you.'

'Not my atoms. I was. .h.i.t with four of those so-called unshatterable axes by a band of Silastic mercenaries after I called one of their mothers a hurst-toting mawg face. Guess what? They shattered.'

'I know a guy who can get me six ounces of Consolium. You hold that in your armpit for five minutes and the job is done, baby.'

Wowbagger was losing what modic.u.m of interest he had in the conversation. 'Consolium is a myth, Beeblebrox. Spare me your fatuous tale-spinning.'

'I know G.o.ds!' said Zaphod desperately. 'Other immortals. I bet they could cut you down to size.'

The death ray loomed huge now, causing the s.h.i.+p to vibrate, seeming to slice through s.p.a.ce as it pa.s.sed.

'Trillian!' called Arthur.

'Please, Mr Wowbagger.'

'You know G.o.ds?' asked the green immortal, reluctantly intrigued. 'You are actually acquainted with real G.o.ds? Cla.s.s A?'

'I have Thor's address right here on my communicator. One word from me and you're hammered.'

'G.o.ds have tried to kill me before.'

'How did that go?'

'Oh shut up, Beeblebrox.'

'Never a major G.o.d, I'll bet,' said Zaphod. 'Never a cla.s.s A.'

Wowbagger nodded thoughtfully. 'No, never a cla.s.s A. I've never had much time for those major supreme beings. Tosspots, every one of them. But surely a blow from Thor's legendary hammer, Mjollnir, would be enough to put my lights out. You can arrange this, Beeblebrox?'

'I'm the only one who can.'

'It's true,' said Ford. 'Old Red Beard and Zaphod go way back.'

Arthur could see nothing but green.

And so I lose my daughter again. How much heartbreak can one man bear?

Wowbagger pressed a b.u.t.ton on his wafer computer. 'You had better not be spiralling my sinkhole.'

Zaphod hooked a thumb into his sash/fake arm. 'This is no spoof. You called me a fat-a.r.s.ed b.u.mpkin. This This is a matter of honour.' is a matter of honour.'

Wowbagger spoke tersely into his computer. 'Extend the s.h.i.+eld,' he said.

A white glow crackled across the porthole and the death ray pa.s.sed harmlessly over them.

4.

Planetary catastrophes are no big deal. They happen all the time. Expanding stars sterilize the surfaces they once nurtured. Asteroids plough into hydrocarbon oceans. Planets wobble a little out of orbit a few light years too close to a black hole and tip over the event horizon. Ravenous quantum beings devour every last drop of energy on their home worlds before turning on each other.

Guide Note: This last was the subject of a reality show broadcast in the Sirius Tau system called Last Behemoth Standing. Last Behemoth Standing. Twenty-five thousand cameras were dropped into the atmosphere of Levy Wash, a world ravaged by four colossal free-fl ying creatures, and billions of viewers watched them fight it out for world domination. Unfortunately, Pinky, the voters' favourite Behemoth, jumped free of Levy Wash's atmosphere and leapfrogged the camera network's wireless trail back to the star system's populated cl.u.s.ter. Pinky stripped three worlds down to the mantle before the federation army froze her with liquid hydrogen. Ratings broke all records for the first two planets, but by number three the audience grew jaded and switched to Twenty-five thousand cameras were dropped into the atmosphere of Levy Wash, a world ravaged by four colossal free-fl ying creatures, and billions of viewers watched them fight it out for world domination. Unfortunately, Pinky, the voters' favourite Behemoth, jumped free of Levy Wash's atmosphere and leapfrogged the camera network's wireless trail back to the star system's populated cl.u.s.ter. Pinky stripped three worlds down to the mantle before the federation army froze her with liquid hydrogen. Ratings broke all records for the first two planets, but by number three the audience grew jaded and switched to The Cheeky-Chuu Chronicles, The Cheeky-Chuu Chronicles, a show featuring a small rainbow bird endowed with super powers by a mysterious bird bath. a show featuring a small rainbow bird endowed with super powers by a mysterious bird bath.

Related Reading: The Worst Idea Ever by Gawn F'zing (ex-network president and current federal penitentiary inmate) by Gawn F'zing (ex-network president and current federal penitentiary inmate) Life Beyond the Beak by Big J Jarood (ex-child star) by Big J Jarood (ex-child star) Arthur Dent watched his world die for the last time. The porthole frame made the whole event look like it was happening on TV; an early episode of Doctor Who Doctor Who, perhaps, when the special effects were charming but not so sophisticated.

I can almost see the wires, thought Arthur.

The death rays were the fat tubular kind favoured by late-twentieth-century television animators and the Earth itself looked like a football covered in papier mache.

But it is real. Horribly so.

The rays converged on the planet, peeling it like a blue-green apple. Arthur was sure that he saw New Zealand curl away from the Antipodes, a thousand-mile-long tail of steam and debris flowing behind it.

I miss my beach, thought Arthur. I miss not knowing anything for certain I miss not knowing anything for certain.

Soon the planet was engulfed in a roiling cloud of steam and ashes. The death rays converged into a point like the tip of a pencil and, with one mighty push, skewered the unfortunate Earth utterly, rending her from pole to pole.

Not real, thought Arthur, hiding behind his fingers. Not real Not real.

I brought that planet to the stars, thought Random Dent, her eyes blurred with tears. I built the bridges that cured cancer, made poverty history, gave Goldflake their first galactic number-one single. Now it's all gone. All those people. All that future. My little Fertle I built the bridges that cured cancer, made poverty history, gave Goldflake their first galactic number-one single. Now it's all gone. All those people. All that future. My little Fertle.

Trillian closed her eyes. She had seen enough devastation throughout her career to last at least one lifetime. Even Wowbagger's. A lot of the destruction hadn't been real, but that didn't mean she could forget having seen it.

And what did I achieve? With all that Galaxy-trotting reportage? Who was saved or helped?

n.o.body.

And who was hurt and lost?

I was. And my daughter.

But even as she thought this, Trillian Astra felt a little itch in her hand where a microphone used to be.

Someone should be covering this, said a tiny, persistent voice inside her. The people need to know The people need to know.

Vogon Bureaucruiser Cla.s.s Hypers.p.a.ce s.h.i.+p, the Business End Business End The Vogons were not bad bad people as such. It was true to say that n.o.body liked them, and that their inter-personal skills didn't extend much beyond trying not to spit on the person they were talking to, but they weren't bad. That is, they would not blast your planet into atoms without the proper paperwork. people as such. It was true to say that n.o.body liked them, and that their inter-personal skills didn't extend much beyond trying not to spit on the person they were talking to, but they weren't bad. That is, they would not blast your planet into atoms without the proper paperwork. With With the proper paperwork, however, they would travel to the end of the Universe, and to as many parallel ones as necessary, to see the job done. And, to be fair, most of them couldn't care less if they the proper paperwork, however, they would travel to the end of the Universe, and to as many parallel ones as necessary, to see the job done. And, to be fair, most of them couldn't care less if they did did spit all over the person they were talking to. spit all over the person they were talking to.

Guide Note: There is actually a doc.u.mented case of a tiny Jatravartid being drowned during a conversation with a Vogon clerk. The Jatravartid had the temerity to present a pet.i.tion and claim it was a legal doc.u.ment. During the ensuing coughing fit, the Jatravartid was first stunned by a semi-solid phlegmbule and then quickly submerged.