Part 25 (1/2)

'Finally!' cried one cow.

'Maximum setting, please!' begged another.

Trillian took his arm. 'I know this species. They want to be eaten.'

'I'm not going to eat them, but I may shoot them.'

Random was still emotional from the journey. 'Why don't you shoot them all, alien? Show my mother what you're really like.'

Wowbagger felt Trillian squeeze his arm and his anxiety drained away.

He looked at her. How was that possible? How did you do that? How was that possible? How did you do that?

As previously discussed, the Universe has an aversion to tenderness and cannot allow it to exist for long, as every loving glance has to be balanced by a short sharp shock somewhere else in the cosmos. Sometimes not so short.

Guide Note: Bowerick Wowbagger or, as the H2G2 H2G2 describes him, 'that green frood with the hoopy s.h.i.+p who goes around insulting people', has to this point shared three tender moments in real s.p.a.ce with Trillian Astra, or as describes him, 'that green frood with the hoopy s.h.i.+p who goes around insulting people', has to this point shared three tender moments in real s.p.a.ce with Trillian Astra, or as WooHoo WooHoo magazine would dub her, 'The Lucky Gal who Bagged the Bagger', and each of these moments had to be paid for by other unfortunate individuals at antipodal points in the Universe. Glam Fodder, a planning officer on Alpha Centauri, had his finger nipped by a pygmy vole that had climbed into his monthly brown bag because the bag donor had decided to recycle his speef sandwich bag. Ursool Dypher, a marriage counsellor from the super-hot system of Hastromil, suffered a panic attack when her three o'clock married couple turned out to be the son and daughter she had given up for adoption as a younger being. Morty Grimm, the lead singer with the Hooloovoo super group Visible Spectrum, suffered third-degree diffusion when the lighting engineer accidentally put a blue gel on the singer's solo spotlight. magazine would dub her, 'The Lucky Gal who Bagged the Bagger', and each of these moments had to be paid for by other unfortunate individuals at antipodal points in the Universe. Glam Fodder, a planning officer on Alpha Centauri, had his finger nipped by a pygmy vole that had climbed into his monthly brown bag because the bag donor had decided to recycle his speef sandwich bag. Ursool Dypher, a marriage counsellor from the super-hot system of Hastromil, suffered a panic attack when her three o'clock married couple turned out to be the son and daughter she had given up for adoption as a younger being. Morty Grimm, the lead singer with the Hooloovoo super group Visible Spectrum, suffered third-degree diffusion when the lighting engineer accidentally put a blue gel on the singer's solo spotlight.

This tender moment was torn asunder by the arrival of a golf cart convoy. It might have been a dramatic entrance had the leading cart actually managed to breach the enclosure gate, instead of becoming entangled in splintered planks.

Arthur's cow friend spat a wad of cud. 'Morons. And these are the people in charge.'

'Vegetarians?' Arthur offered.

'No. They love pigs. Can't get enough of pigs. But us poor cows, for some reason we're not on the menu. So thank goodness for you, sirs. Thank goodness for you.'

Aseed Preflux crawled from the wreckage of fence and cart.

'Hey, Arthur,' said Ford. 'What do you get if you cross a fence with a cart?'

Arthur never had time to hazard a guess because they were set upon by Tyromancers.

'Step away from that barbecue,' Aseed ordered shrilly. 'We need those cows.'

Ford hissed into Arthur's ear: 'I'll stall them. You get Bessy on the barbecue.'

The cow overheard. 'I resent that. We're not all called Bessy, you know. As a matter of fact, Bessy Bessy is quite pa.s.se in sophisticated circles. Trisjam and Pollygrino are the names of choice this season.' is quite pa.s.se in sophisticated circles. Trisjam and Pollygrino are the names of choice this season.'

Aseed shouldered his way through the a.s.sembled cattle until he arrived, breathless and battered, before the newcomers.

'Who is in charge here?' he demanded to know.

Wowbagger stepped forward, avoiding anything that squelched or steamed.

'That would be me. I am Bowerick Wowbagger, the s.h.i.+p's captain.'

'What s.h.i.+p? I don't see any s.h.i.+p.'

'That's because it's camouflaged, you bletcherous nincomp.o.o.p.'

Aseed flushed. 'What? There's no call for that. How dare you?'

'Now, that's more like it,' said Wowbagger, gratified. 'Surprise and outrage. Reminds me why I used to do this job.'

'Used to?' said Trillian.

Wowbagger glanced at his shoes, which were still reasonably clean. 'Lately, it's lost its appeal.'

Aseed's courage blossomed as the other colonists began to show up, wondering what all the commotion was about.

'Sorry to interrupt your tender moment...'

(On a cruise liner near Barnard's Star, the s.h.i.+p's doctor sneezed and stabbed himself in the knee with a Motox hypodermic. The knee was put on a strict water diet for two days, in spite of all its moaning.) '... but what is your business here, Wowbagger?'

'I have come to drop these humans off with their own kind and I was going to insult everyone, but now I don't think I'll bother.'

Aseed perked up a little. 'These people are our own kind? They are Tyromancers?'

Wowbagger's chin jerked. 'Tyromancers? You people are Tyromancers? I don't believe it!'

Aseed's upswing in perkiness levelled off. 'Don't tell me: you don't believe in the Cheese. You think it's all in my head.'

'No. I actually know the Cheese. I haven't seen old Cheesy in for ever.'

Preflux dropped to his knees. Something squelched and another something cracked and steamed. 'Yyou know the Cheese? You have been in His exalted presence?'

'Exalted? Who told you that?'

'The Cheese Lord Himself, in my visions.'

Wowbagger nodded. 'He's still doing the dream bit. Some things never change. Find an empty brain and slip yourself in, that's always been Cheesy's modus operandi. I've been down this G.o.d route before: a long time ago I hired Cheesy to kill me. He tried with some kind of cheese dip. It didn't work, obviously, but I've been lactose intolerant ever since.'

'Did you bring Ed.a.m.nation down upon us?'

'Ed.a.m.nation? That's hilarious. Really? No. Come on. You can't expect people not to laugh if you insist on using theological terms like that. If you're talking about the big ball of cheese over the other settlement, I think you'll find that was another s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p rolling into a normality zone.'

'Not Ed.a.m.nation?'

'I doubt it. In fairness to Cheesy, he might be a junior G.o.d, but he's not great on projection. The last I heard he was studying for his Middle Grade divinity exams, and seeing as I haven't seen any Holy Cheese calendars around, I am guessing he failed.'

'Me too,' said a cow. 'Because he's a loser, just like you, Preflux.'

'Shut it, cow, or so help me...'

The cow spat. 'What are you going to do? Not eat me?'

'That's right. I won't eat you and I won't eat your entire family. Wherever they hide, I'll find them and not eat a single bite.'