‘Yes, I do love him,’ said Trillian, nodding, and the motion set rivulets of tears flowing down her cheeks. ‘Something happened in dark space to speed up the falling in love 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 passed 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.
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 space, through to the volatile, compassionate 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, 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 massaging 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 cocked 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.
‘Hey, guys, you know this isn’t really fun any more.’
Thor sighed. ‘You know, I was thinking that. If there was a fight or something, the heroic struggle, but this is just me, the big guy, beating a little guy.’
Arthur folded his arms and gave Zaphod the Daddy look. ‘That’s right, which is why this whole thing stops right now.’
Zaphod stared back. ‘Are we playing a face game? No blinking, is it?’
‘No, Zaphod, this is not a game. You two have had your fun. Now it’s time to end it.’
‘I’d love that,’ said Zaphod. ‘I would honestly, but there’s a lot riding on this fight. Thor’s entire career, my fifteen per cent. I’m afraid Wowbagger has to go.’
‘Don’t forget the Fat Arse thing.’
Arthur was shocked. ‘Ford! Why would you bring that up?’
‘Oh, sorry. That wasn’t helpful, was it?’
Arthur was feeling quite intimidated with Thor’s codpiece throwing a shadow over him, but he persevered.
‘The thing of it is, Zaphod, Mr Thor, the thing is that Trillian has grown fond of Wowbagger, more than fond, in fact. And what sort of father to her daughter would I be if I didn’t try to intervene on his behalf?’
Thor frowned. ‘Why do you look vaguely familiar? Things aren’t usually vaguely familiar to me – I either know them or I don’t.’
Arthur’s legs very much wanted to assume control and run faster than they had since he’d sprinted to stop his mother perusing his special spiral pad with the cut-out photos from the Blue Peter presenters’ annual.
‘We’ve talked before. At a flying party. You tried to pick up a friend of mine.’
‘Pick up? What kind of pick up?’
‘You know the kind where you lift something off the ground?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, not that kind.’
Thor rubbed his forehead as though still hung-over. ‘That explains it. I lost enough brain cells at that party to power the Imperial Government for a century.’ The Thunder God took a step to one side. ‘He’s coming down.’
‘You did your best, Earthman, and I applaud you,’ snapped Zaphod. ‘Now get lost while my client does what he does best.’
‘I can’t walk away, Zaphod,’ said Arthur stubbornly. ‘I could never look Trillian in the eye. And you will never be able to sleep at night if you go ahead with this.’
‘My conscience will be clear.’
‘It’s not your conscience I’d be worried about.’
Zaphod frowned. ‘And what should I be worried about? Spell it out, man. You know I can’t read between the lines.’
‘I would be worried about Trillian hunting me down and planting a spike between my shoulder blades.’
Zaphod shivered. ‘Oooh. She would, wouldn’t she? I can just see it.’ He glanced over at Hillman Hunter on the sidelines. ‘I promised this guy a death. He’s from Earth and you know what those people are like. It’s all about the bloodshed with them.’
‘That is so untrue, Zaphod. We are not all bloodthirsty monsters.’
Zaphod snorted. ‘Oh, no? How come you blew up your entire planet?’
‘We did not blow up our planet! You did it. You aliens!?
??
‘Now we’re getting somewhere. Now we’re getting down to your issues.’
‘My issues? You’re the one prepared to have someone murdered just because he said you had a fat arse.’
Zaphod paled. ‘He said what?’
Arthur turned to Thor’s knee. ‘And you’re prepared to kill someone just to get a job.’
‘There’s no point talking to me,’ said Thor, tugging his beaded braid. ‘I don’t have any regard for mortal life. As far as I’m concerned, you people are about as important as ants. And not the big scary mutant ants, just the normal little ones. To be honest, I’m far too worried about my own career comeback to care about individual lives.’
‘And, anyway, it’s not actually murder, is it?’ said Zaphod in a tone so patronizing it would have set all of the pink ectoplasm balls hopping in a Full-O-Yourself detector. ‘He wants us to kill him.’
‘Not any more,’ said Arthur.
‘Really? Are you sure?’
Thor took a step back. ‘Why don’t we ask him?’
Wowbagger hit the ground so hard that his immortality leaped out of him like a ghost image, leaving a shattered mortal crammed into a shallow hole in the ground.
‘Ow,’ he said. ‘That’s… Ow… Painkillers anyone?’
Ford pulled a towel from his satchel. ‘Suck on the corner,’ he advised, passing it down. ‘That blue stripe should take some of the sting out of your injuries.’
Thor hefted Mjöllnir. ‘Any last words?’
Wowbagger spat out the towel. ‘The deal’s off. I need to live.’
‘Aha, there, you see,’ said Arthur. ‘He wants to live. You can’t just kill him.’
Thor chuckled and it sounded very much like a large bear clearing its throat, a throat which had recently swallowed several well-fed men.
‘I can’t? Who says I can’t? You?’
Trillian appeared suddenly, barging her way past the men, dropping to her knees by Wowbagger’s crater.
‘No. I say it, you big monster. I love this man, alien, or whatever he is and you are not going to take him from me.’
‘I remember you, vaguely,’ said Thor, but he did not strike. He was astute enough to see the media downside of hammering through a defenceless woman to kill a broken man.
‘Zark, Zaph,’ he groaned. ‘This is a bust. I had my hopes up too.’
Zaphod ground his teeth. There must be some small victory yet to be gleaned from this situation. ‘Well, at least denounce the Cheese.’
Wowbagger coughed and groaned. ‘No problem. I hate cheese.’
I’ll take what I can get, thought Zaphod. He turned to the crowd with his arms raised preacher-high.
‘Wowbagger is defeated,’ he cried. ‘He has renounced the Cheese and embraced Thor as his god.’
Hillman Hunter punched the air and Buff Orpington launched himself into a bunch of Tyromancers and punched everyone he could.
Zaphod relaxed instantly. Good. A riot. Riots always work well for me. I am an agent of Chaos, he thought. And Havoc. Those two gods are the best close harmony singers in the Universe. Maybe I should book them as support to Thor.
Trillian kissed Wowbagger’s brow and wiped the blue glowing blood from his mouth.
‘Are you going to stay with me?’
Wowbagger smiled, but it cost him. ‘For as long as I can. That hammer knocked the immortal right out of me. I may not have much more than half a lifespan left.’
‘That will have to do,’ said Trillian and she beckoned to the father of her child to help her daughter’s stepfather-to-be out of his impact crater.
Random watched all of this from the sidelines, not quite ready to be huggy-wuggy just yet.
Is that the dark matter? she wondered. Or is that me?
This thought worried her for a brief moment, but was soon superseded by the notion that she could probably use the situation to blackmail some really good presents out of Arthur.
Arthur. Definitely not Daddy. Maybe Dad though.
After Trillian and Wowbagger had said a few goodbyes, Thor carried the ex-immortal back to the Tanngrísnir, much to the delight of the ship’s computer.
‘Hey, Thor. I missed you.’
‘Sorry about the computer, folks,’ said Thor sheepishly to the half-dead man in his arms and the young lady clasping the half-dead man’s hand. ‘Dad programmed the ship to adore me and sealed the program with his magic eye, so I could never erase it. That’s the main reason I gave this bucket away. Anyway, what do I need a ship for? I have Mjöllnir.’
‘I’m right here,’ said the computer. ‘I hear what you’re saying, baby. But I forgive you.’
‘Okay,’ said Thor, hurriedly laying Wowbagger on a bed that rose up from the floor to meet him. ‘Leave him in the plasma bed for a week and he should be as healthy as a mortal can be.’
‘Mortal,’ croaked Wowbagger. ‘Are you sure you want that, Trillian?’
Trillian sniffled. ‘I’ll make do.’
‘That’s great,’ said Thor, feeling suddenly claustrophobic. ‘I’ll just leave you two together. I have a banquet to get to – apparently someone put quite a bit of beef on the barbecue. You guys have fun.’
‘No!’ wailed the ship. ‘Don’t leave me!’
‘Gotta fly,’ said the Thunder God and bolted from the ship.
‘N-o-o-o-o-o,’ wailed the computer. ‘N-o-o-o-o-o. Not again.’
Trillian put her degree in astrophysics and her time on the Heart of Gold to good use and quickly bumped the Tanngrísnir into the stratosphere.
Wowbagger was already feeling a little better in his cocoon of healing plasma.
‘Where are we going?’ he asked.
The answer was simple. ‘Somewhere together.’
Wowbagger laughed, though it cost him. ‘That’s quite romantic. Are you like this all the time?’
‘We’ll find out, won’t we?’ replied Trillian. ‘We have all the time in the world.’
‘No, we don’t actually, but what we do have is precious.’
Trillian rolled her eyes. ‘God, I’m already sick of all this sweet talk.’
‘Me too,’ said Wowbagger. ‘Do you want to go and insult somebody?’
‘I thought you’d never ask.’
‘Ever been to the Wavering Wormholes of Stryk Lycombdan Tsing?’
‘No. What are the beings there like?’
‘Jerks. Complete arseholes.’
Trillian ran a search on the Galact-O-Map. ‘Well, then, what are we waiting for?’
She selected the glowing dot on the display and the Tanngrísnir became one with the night sky.
11
Vogon Bureaucruiser Class Hyperspace Ship, the Business End
Hyperspace cleared its throat and hawked out a Vogon bureaucruiser into the clear swathe of satin space 0.01 parsecs beyond Nano’s thermosphere. Inside the Business End, three thousand members of the Bureaucratic Corps flopped out of their hypercradles and rubbed the belt dimples from their tummies.
Prostetnic Jeltz was first at his station, dispelling the unsettling daze of ersatz-evolution by pounding on buttons and shouting at his slacker subordinates.
‘Less sloth, you useless gallywragglers,’ he urged. ‘Show a little kroompst. We are on the clock, and it is an atomic clock that will never lose a second.’
The crew grunted kroompst and moaned their way to various posts, groggily redirecting their animosity towards the planet below.
‘Hyperspace is merely a holiday,’ said Jeltz, ‘not a place you can live. So forget its false comforts.’
There were few comforts, false or otherwise, on board the Business End. Soft furnishings of any kind were verboten for the crew, as they might take the edge off. And a Vogon without his hostile edge is about as much use as a pooh stick in a bartle-bodging contest.
Guide Note: An aging constant had once flouted the regulations and had two nice cushions implanted in his buttocks. Unfortunately he picked up a microscopic windborne parasite in the jungle
city of Rhiis Bhuurohs and it ate him alive, foam first. The parasite knocked out six decks of the Vogon cruiser before the mess hall rations killed it.
Jeltz cranked open his jaw to holler for Mown, but saw from the corner of his eye that the little constant was already bobbing at his elbow.
Grrrmmmm, he thought (Vogons even think grunts). That boy moves pretty darned fast for one of us. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?
It was, he decided, a consider it later thing. The first priority was to exterminate the Earthlings. Jeltz had filled up quite a sac of rancour over this particular species and had spent his hyperspace trance constructing overkill scenarios. This time there would be no survivors.
‘This time there will be no survivors,’ he assured Mown, in case the boy thought Daddy was leaking kroompst.
‘Badabingo,’ said Constant Mown.
Jeltz frowned, though with all the fleshy planes on his brow, only a close relative could read his expressions. ‘What did you say?’
‘Badabingo. It’s an expression. Used on Blagulon Kappa, I believe.’
‘Expression!’ warbled Jeltz, a full octave above his usual range. ‘We do not use expressions!’
Mown took two quick backward steps, but did not fall over.
‘Of course not. Thank you for reprimanding me, Da-Prostetnic. I am fortunate to have such a role model.’
Jeltz huffed, mollified. ‘Expressions, indeed slogans in general, are only acceptable in poetic or ironic contexts. For example, as I launched the torpedoes on the eco-planet Foliavintus, I said, “Remember to recycle electrical devices.” ’
‘Most diabolical, Prostetnic.’
Such is the tenuous grasp of the Vogon on the tenets of humour that Jeltz proceeded to explain: ‘This was funny in a mean-spirited way because “Remember to recycle electrical devices” was something of a government jingle on Foliavintus.’
‘Oh, I get it.’
‘And also, once these particular explosive electrical devices were used, they could not be recycled. In fact, no electrical devices would be recycled ever again.’
‘Bada– Nice one.’
‘There’s more.’ Jeltz swilled bile in his cheeks then swallowed. ‘In a very real way, my torpedoes were recycling the entire planet. Do you see?’