Oh yes, said Ford, jump at it, like a shot.
Arthur glanced at them, wondering what all this was leading up to.
But weve got to have a product you see, said Frankie, I mean ideally we still need the Ultimate Question in some form or other.
Zaphod leaned forward to Arthur.
You see, he said, if theyre just sitting there in the studio looking very relaxed and, you know, just mentioning that they happen to know the Answer to Life, the Universe and Everything, and then eventually have to admit that in fact its Forty-two, then the shows probably quite short. No follow-up, you see.
We have to have something that sounds good, said Benji.
Something that sounds good? exclaimed Arthur. An Ultimate Question that sounds good? From a couple
of mice?
The mice bristled.
Well, I mean, yes idealism, yes the dignity of pure research, yes the pursuit of truth in all its forms, but there comes a point Im afraid where you begin to suspect that if theres any real truth, its that the entire multi-dimensional infinity of the Universe is almost certainly being run by a bunch of maniacs. And if it comes to a choice between spending yet another ten million years finding that out, and on the other hand just taking the money and running, then I for one could do with the exercise, said Frankie.
But started Arthur, hopelessly.
Hey, will you get this, Earthman, interrupted Zaphod. You are a last generation product of that computer matrix, right, and you were there right up to the moment your planet got the finger, yeah?
Er
So your brain was an organic part of the penultimate configuration of the computer programme, said Ford, rather lucidly he thought.
Right? said Zaphod.
Well, said Arthur doubtfully. He wasnt aware of ever having felt an organic part of anything. He had always seen this as one of his problems.
In other words, said Benji, steering his curious little vehicle right over to Arthur, theres a good chance that the structure of the question is encoded in the structure of your brainso we want to buy it off you.
What, the question? said Arthur.
Yes, said Ford and Trillian.
For lots of money, said Zaphod.
No, no, said Frankie, its the brain we want to buy.
What!
I thought you said you could just read his brain electronically, protested Ford.
Oh yes, said Frankie, but wed have to get it out first. Its got to be prepared.
Treated, said Benji.
Diced.
Thank you, shouted Arthur, tipping up his chair and backing away from the table in horror.
It could always be replaced, said Benji reasonably, if you think its important.
Yes, an electronic brain, said Frankie, a simple one would suffice.
A simple one! wailed Arthur.
Yeah, said Zaphod with a sudden evil grin, youd just have to program it to say What? and I dont understand and Wheres the tea? whod know the difference?
What? cried Arthur, backing away still further.
See what I mean? said Zaphod and howled with pain because of something that Trillian did at that moment.
Id notice the difference, said Arthur.
No you wouldnt, said Frankie mouse, youd be programmed not to.
Ford made for the door.
Look, Im sorry, mice old lads, he said. I dont think weve got a deal.
I rather think we have to have a deal, said the mice in chorus, all the charm vanishing from their piping little voices in an instant. With a tiny whining shriek their two glass transports lifted themselves off the table, and swung through the air towards Arthur, who stumbled further backwards into a blind corner, utterly unable to cope or think of anything.
Trillian grabbed him desperately by the arm and tried to drag him towards the door, which Ford and Zaphod were struggling to open, but Arthur was dead weighthe seemed hypnotized by the airborne rodents swooping towards him.
She screamed at him, but he just gaped.
With one more yank, Ford and Zaphod got the door open. On the other side of it was a small pack of rather ugly men who they could only assume were the heavy mob of Magrathea. Not only were they ugly themselves, but the medical equipment they carried with them was also far from pretty. They charged.
SoArthur was about to have his head cut open, Trillian was unable to help him, and Ford and Zaphod were about to be set upon by several thugs a great deal heavier and more sharply armed than they were.
All in all it was extremely fortunate that at that moment every alarm on the planet burst into an earsplitting din.
Chapter 32
Emergency! Emergency! ostile ship has landed on planet. Armed intruders in section 8A. Defence stations, defence stations!The two mice sniffed irritably round the fragments of their glass transports where they lay shattered on the floor.
Damnation, muttered Frankie mouse, all that fuss over two pounds of Earthling brain. He scuttled round and about, his pink eyes flashing, his fine white coat bristling with static.
The only thing we can do now, said Benji, crouching and stroking his whiskers in thought, is to try and fake a question, invent one that will
sound plausible.
Difficult, said Frankie. He thought. How about Whats yellow and dangerous?