As a matter of interest, said Trillian, what are we going to do?
Just keep cool, said Zaphod.
Is that all? shouted Arthur.
No, were also going to er take evasive action! said Zaphod with a sudden access of panic. Computer, what evasive action can we take?
Er, none Im afraid, guys, said the computer.
or something, said Zaphod, er he said.
There seems to be something jamming my guidance system, explained the computer brightly, impact minus forty-five seconds. Please call me Eddie if it will help you to relax.
Zaphod tried to run in several equally decisive directions simultaneously. Right! he said. Er weve got to get manual control of this ship.
Can you fly her? asked Ford pleasantly.
No, can you?
No.
Trillian, can you?
No.
Fine, said Zaphod, relaxing. Well do it together.
I
cant either, said Arthur, who felt it was time he began to assert himself.
Id guessed that, said Zaphod. OK computer, I want full manual control now.
You got it, said the computer.
Several large desk panels slid open and banks of control consoles sprang up out of them, showering the crew with bits of expanded polystyrene packaging and balls of rolled-up cellophane: these controls had never been used before.
Zaphod stared at them wildly.
OK, Ford, he said, full retro thrust and ten degrees starboard. Or something
Good luck guys, chirped the computer, impact minus thirty seconds
Ford leapt to the controlsonly a few of them made any immediate sense to him so he pulled those. The ship shook and screamed as its guidance rocked jets tried to push it every which way simultaneously. He released half of them and the ship span round in a tight arc and headed back the way it had come, straight towards the oncoming missiles.
Air cushions ballooned out of the walls in an instant as everyone was thrown against them. For a few seconds the inertial forces held them flattened and squirming for breath, unable to move. Zaphod struggled and pushed in manic desperation and finally managed a savage kick at a small lever that formed part of the guidance system.
The lever snapped off. The ship twisted sharply and rocketed upwards. The crew were hurled violently back across the cabin. Fords copy of The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy smashed into another section of the control console with the combined result that the Guide started to explain to anyone who cared to listen about the best ways of smuggling Antarean parakeet glands out of Antares (an Antarean parakeet gland stuck on a small stick is a revolting but much sought after cocktail delicacy and very large sums of money are often paid for them by very rich idiots who want to impress other very rich idiots), and the ship suddenly dropped out of the sky like a stone.
It was of course more or less at this moment that one of the crew sustained a nasty bruise to the upper arm. This should be emphasized because, as had already been revealed, they escape otherwise completely unharmed and the deadly nuclear missiles do not eventually hit the ship. The safety of the crew is absolutely assured.
Impact minus twenty seconds, guys said the computer.
Then turn the bloody engines back on! bawled Zaphod.
OK, sure thing, guys, said the computer. With a subtle roar the engines cut back in, the ship smoothly flattened out of its dive and headed back towards the missiles again.
The computer started to sing.
When you walk through the storm it whined nasally, hold your head up high
Zaphod screamed at it to shut up, but his voice was lost in the din of what they quite naturally assumed was approaching destruction.
And dont be afraid of the dark! Eddie wailed.
The ship, in flattening out had in fact flattened out upside down and lying on the ceiling as they were it was now totally impossible for any of the crew to reach the guidance systems.
At the end of the storm crooned Eddie.
The two missiles loomed massively on the screens as they thundered towards the ship.
is a golden sky
But by an extraordinarily lucky chance they had not yet fully corrected their flight paths to that of the erratically weaving ship, and they passed right under it.
And the sweet silver songs of the lark Revised impact time fifteen seconds fellas Walk on through the wind
The missiles banked round in a screeching arc and plunged back into pursuit.
This is it, said Arthur watching them. We are now quite definitely going to die arent we?
I wish youd stop saying that, shouted Ford.
Well we are arent we?
Yes.
Walk on through the rain sang Eddie.
A thought struck Arthur. He struggled to his feet.
Why doesnt anyone turn on this Improbability Drive thing? he said. We could probably reach that.
What are you crazy? said Zaphod. Without proper programming anything could happen.
Does that matter at this stage? shouted Arthur.
Though your dreams be tossed and blown sand Eddie.
Arthur scrambled up on to one end of the excitingly chunky pieces of moulded contouring where the curve of the wall met the ceiling.
Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart
Does anyone know why Arthur cant turn on the Improbability Drive? shouted Trillian.