Part 6 (1/2)

'Emotions!' spluttered Left Brain all over the inside of his own bowl. 'Emotions? How can you afford to have only one head and still be so stupid?'

'I like being stupid. You see things clearly. Being stupid is like squinting through the sunlight.'

Each statement rocked Left Brain's sphere like a slap from a wet towel. 'Sunlight? What are you saying? Stupidity is ignorance and darkness.'

'So you planned planned to come here? These are the coordinates you selected?' to come here? These are the coordinates you selected?'

'No,' admitted Left Brain. 'The exact spot had already been destroyed, so the Drive moved us to safety.'

'So out of all the spots in the Universe, the s.h.i.+p brings us here.'

'Coincidence. Backwash from the Improbability Drive.'

'This is more than coincidence. Zaphod comes to the rescue of his favourite cousin. How unlikely is that? It's happened before near enough to this very same planet. One more time and it's a pattern. And the last time I checked, patterns are not very improbable.'

Another Guide Note: This last was a lie, as Ford Prefect had never once checked the probability of patterns. Ford rarely checked anything apart from how full his gla.s.s was and general froodiness levels. He once paid a month's salary for a froody detector which only worked if the operator's own froodiness was sufficient to power it. Ford tried it once in the bathroom, then forced it into the trash compacter along with the receipt.

Left Brain rocked back on his x-axis. 'Yes, it is true that patterns are not good models for improbability.'

'Generally true?'

'Generally.'

'Generally doesn't sound very improbable. Doesn't sound very zenzizenzizenzic to one against. Sounds more like even money to me.' doesn't sound very improbable. Doesn't sound very zenzizenzizenzic to one against. Sounds more like even money to me.'

'Y-yes,' stammered Left Brain. 'You make a good point.'

'Are you sweating, man? Can robot heads sweat now?'

Left Brain was indeed perspiring profusely. Little spider-bots emerged from the sphere's collar, feasting on the moisture drops.

'I am not not a robot,' protested Left Brain. a robot,' protested Left Brain.

'Hey, you're floating in a gla.s.s bubble, hooked up to a computer. Spiders coming out of your neck. The last time I checked, those things all scream robot.'

Guide Note: Again, no checking. Total buffa-biscuit.

'Although,' mused Ford, stroking close to his chin, 'the total c.o.c.k-up of the Improbability Drive is very organic being organic being territory.' territory.'

'Total c.o.c.k-up,' said Left Brain nervously. 'You really think so?'

'Absolutely. But let's dwell on that later, and at great length, to much embarra.s.sment for one of us. Now, how about you fire up that Drive and send us somewhere that actually is is improbable.' improbable.'

Left Brain's dome light pulsed a sickly green and streams of numbers flashed across the gla.s.s. 'Improbable? But how to calculate? How to... Everything I believe in. Numbers are fallible? Can that be true? Can it?'

Ford was beginning to sober up. 'Hey, buddy. Forget it. I'm just twisting your pormwrangler. Tell him, Zaphod.'

Zaphod draped an arm around his cousin's shoulders. 'It's true, buddy. You've been wrangled by the best. Ford here once made a Voondonian grand high friar attack him with incense sticks.'

'For a bet bet,' said Ford, who wouldn't like people to believe that he went around incensing incensed friars for no no reason. reason.

Left Brain was in some distress. 'The computer sings to me of numbers, but you but you... You two buffa-biscuit buffa-biscuit heads with your heads with your buffa-puckey buffa-puckey!'

'Hey, less of the buffa,' said Ford, injured. 'I'm just trying to bond. You know, impress you with my offbeat intellectualism.'

'It's just all... It's just too... Numbers. Emotions. Zark!'

And then Left Brain went into a loop. A very short loop. One word, over and over.

'Zark... Zark... Zark...'

Zaphod's third arm popped out from underneath his ruffled silk s.h.i.+rt, slapping Ford on the crown of his head.

'Idiot. You froze him.'

'You kept the arm, then.'

Zaphod tucked his spare hand across his chest into the left pocket of his spray-on trousers.

Guide Note: Not a euphemism. Zaphod bought a pants sprayer on Port Sesefron that promised to 'reach those hard to reach places'. After the first application, Zaphod turned the power down a bit. There was a special nozzle for pockets.

'I mostly use the third arm for ceremonial stuff. Stick a purple sleeve on, and, hey presto, it's a sash.'

Ford flapped his lips, unimpressed by Left Brain. 'It didn't take much to freeze him. You should have waited for version 2.0.'

Trillian strapped herself into a luxurious Tilt-O-Chair beside Random, who was sulking hard enough to feed a family of Cyphroles for five hundred years.

'Why aren't we somewhere else, Zaphod? I can still see death rays.'

Zaphod betrayed his cousin with a thumb jerk. 'Ask Ford im-perfect. He froze the s.h.i.+p.'

Arthur chose this moment to stroll back on to the bridge. 'Froze the s.h.i.+p? Did you say froze the s.h.i.+p?'

Arthur's old memories were rea.s.serting themselves by the second and, to his chagrin, he found them not entirely dissimilar to the new ones.

I miss being surprised, he realized. These days I go straight from calm to terrified. These days I go straight from calm to terrified.

'What is your problem, Ford?' he asked. 'Are you wired somehow to screw things up?'

'He's wired, not me,' said Ford, pointing to Left Brain, who was now bobbling against the ceiling like an escaped balloon. wired, not me,' said Ford, pointing to Left Brain, who was now bobbling against the ceiling like an escaped balloon.

Arthur sensed that something was missing on the bridge.

'I don't know what it is,' he said, testing the air with his fingers. 'But something was here a second ago and now it's gone.'

Zaphod was delighted to have some relevant information. 'Let me fill you in on that, Earthman. When the Dodge-O-Matic is activated, the computer paints the walls with an off-white light. Phototherapeutic brain-calming stuff.'

'And the light is off.'

'Badabingo!'