This wasnt fair on Ford at all. He looked backwards and forwards between Arthur and Zaphod. What? he said to Zaphod. You dont mean to say youve been on that miserable planet as well do you?
No, of course not, said Zaphod
breezily. Well, I may have just dropped in briefly, you know, on my way somewhere
But I was stuck there for fifteen years!
Well I didnt know that did I?
But what were you doing there?
Looking about, you know.
He gatecrashed a party, persisted Arthur, trembling with anger, a fancy dress party
It would have to be, wouldnt it? said Ford.
At this party, persisted Arthur, was a girl oh well, look it doesnt matter now. The whole place has gone up in smoke anyway
I wish youd stop sulking about that bloody planet, said Ford. Who was the lady?
Oh just somebody. Well alright, I wasnt doing very well with her. Id been trying all evening. Hell, she was something though. Beautiful, charming, devastatingly intelligent, at last Id got her to myself for a bit and was plying her with a bit of talk when this friend of yours barges up and says Hey doll, is this guy boring you? Why dont you talk to me instead? Im from a different planet. I never saw her again.
Zaphod? exclaimed Ford.
Yes, said Arthur, glaring at him and trying not to feel foolish. He only had the two arms and the one head and he called himself Phil, but
But you must admit he did turn out to be from another planet, said Trillian wandering into sight at the other end of the bridge. She gave Arthur a pleasant smile which settled on him like a ton of bricks and then turned her attention to the ships controls again.
There was silence for a few seconds, and then out of the scrambled mess of Arthurs brain crawled some words.
Tricia McMillian? he said. What are you doing here?
Same as you, she said, I hitched a lift. After all with a degree in Maths and another in astrophysics what else was there to do? It was either that or the dole queue again on Monday.
Infinity minus one, chattered the computer, Improbability sum now complete.
Zaphod looked about him, at Ford, at Arthur, and then at Trillian.
Trillian, he said, is this sort of thing going to happen every time we use the Improbability drive?
Very probably, Im afraid, she said.
Chapter 14
As the ships artificial night closed in they were each grateful to retire to separate cabins and try to rationalize their thoughts.
Trillian couldnt sleep. She sat on a couch and stared at a small cage which contained her last and only links with Earthtwo white mice that she had insisted Zaphod let her bring. She had expected not to see the planet again, but she was disturbed by her negative reaction to the planets destruction. It seemed remote and unreal and she could find no thoughts to think about it. She watched the mice scurrying round the cage and running furiously in their little plastic treadwheels till they occupied her whole attention. Suddenly she shook herself and went back to the bridge to watch over the tiny flashing lights and figures that charted the ships progress through the void. She wished she knew what it was she was trying not to think about.
Zaphod couldnt sleep. He also wished he knew what it was that he wouldnt let himself think about. For as long as he could remember hed suffered from a vague nagging feeling of being not all there. Most of the time he was able to put this thought aside and not worry about it, but it had been re-awakened by the sudden inexplicable arrival of Ford Prefect and Arthur Dent. Somehow it seemed to conform to a pattern that he couldnt see.
Ford couldnt sleep. He was too excited about being back on the road again. Fifteen years of virtual imprisonment were over, just as he was finally beginning to give up hope. Knocking about with Zaphod for a bit promised to be a lot of fun, though there seemed to be something faintly odd about his semi-cousin that he couldnt put his finger on. The fact that he had become President of the Galaxy was frankly astonishing, as was the manner of his leaving the post. Was there a reason behind it? There would be no point in asking Zaphod, he never appeared to have a reason for anything he did at all: he had turned unfathomably into an art form. He attacked everything in life with a mixture of extraordinary genius and naive incompetence and it was often difficult to tell which was which.
Arthur slept: he was terribly tired.
There was a tap at Zaphods door. It
slid open.
Zaphod?
Yeah?
I think we just found what you came to look for.
Hey, yeah?
Ford gave up the attempt to sleep. In the corner of his cabin was a small computer screen and keyboard. He sat at it for a while and tried to compose a new entry for the Guide on the subject of Vogons but couldnt think of anything vitriolic enough so he gave that up too, wrapped a robe round himself and went for a walk to the bridge.
As he entered he was surprised to see two figures hunched excitedly over the instruments.
See? The ships about to move into orbit, Trillian was saying. Theres a planet out there. Its at the exact coordinates you predicted.