Part 29 (2/2)

'Zark, Zaph,' he groaned. 'This is a bust. I had my hopes up too.'

Zaphod ground his teeth. There must be some small victory yet to be gleaned from this situation. 'Well, at least denounce the Cheese.'

Wowbagger coughed and groaned. 'No problem. I hate cheese.'

I'll take what I can get, thought Zaphod. He turned to the crowd with his arms raised preacher-high.

'Wowbagger is defeated,' he cried. 'He has renounced the Cheese and embraced Thor as his G.o.d.'

Hillman Hunter punched the air and Buff Orpington launched himself into a bunch of Tyromancers and punched everyone he could.

Zaphod relaxed instantly. Good. A riot. Riots always work well for me. I am an agent of Chaos Good. A riot. Riots always work well for me. I am an agent of Chaos, he thought. And Havoc. Those two G.o.ds are the best close harmony singers in the Universe. Maybe I should book them as support to Thor And Havoc. Those two G.o.ds are the best close harmony singers in the Universe. Maybe I should book them as support to Thor.

Trillian kissed Wowbagger's brow and wiped the blue glowing blood from his mouth.

'Are you going to stay with me?'

Wowbagger smiled, but it cost him. 'For as long as I can. That hammer knocked the immortal right out of me. I may not have much more than half a lifespan left.'

'That will have to do,' said Trillian and she beckoned to the father of her child to help her daughter's stepfather-to-be out of his impact crater.

Random watched all of this from the sidelines, not quite ready to be huggy-wuggy just yet.

Is that the dark matter? she wondered. she wondered. Or is that me? Or is that me?

This thought worried her for a brief moment, but was soon superseded by the notion that she could probably use the situation to blackmail some really good presents out of Arthur.

Arthur. Definitely not Daddy. Maybe Dad though.

After Trillian and Wowbagger had said a few goodbyes, Thor carried the ex-immortal back to the Tanngrisnir Tanngrisnir, much to the delight of the s.h.i.+p's computer.

'Hey, Thor. I missed you.'

'Sorry about the computer, folks,' said Thor sheepishly to the half-dead man in his arms and the young lady clasping the half-dead man's hand. 'Dad programmed the s.h.i.+p to adore me and sealed the program with his magic eye, so I could never erase it. That's the main reason I gave this bucket away. Anyway, what do I need a s.h.i.+p for? I have Mjollnir.'

'I'm right here,' said the computer. 'I hear what you're saying, baby. But I forgive you.'

'Okay,' said Thor, hurriedly laying Wowbagger on a bed that rose up from the floor to meet him. 'Leave him in the plasma bed for a week and he should be as healthy as a mortal can be.'

'Mortal,' croaked Wowbagger. 'Are you sure you want that, Trillian?'

Trillian sniffled. 'I'll make do.'

'That's great,' said Thor, feeling suddenly claustrophobic. 'I'll just leave you two together. I have a banquet to get to apparently someone put quite a bit of beef on the barbecue. You guys have fun.'

'No!' wailed the s.h.i.+p. 'Don't leave me!'

'Gotta fly,' said the Thunder G.o.d and bolted from the s.h.i.+p.

'N-o-o-o-o-o,' wailed the computer. 'N-o-o-o-o-o. Not again.'

Trillian put her degree in astrophysics and her time on the Heart of Gold Heart of Gold to good use and quickly b.u.mped the to good use and quickly b.u.mped the Tanngrisnir Tanngrisnir into the stratosphere. into the stratosphere.

Wowbagger was already feeling a little better in his coc.o.o.n of healing plasma.

'Where are we going?' he asked.

The answer was simple. 'Somewhere together.'

Wowbagger laughed, though it cost him. 'That's quite romantic. Are you like this all the time?'

'We'll find out, won't we?' replied Trillian. 'We have all the time in the world.'

'No, we don't actually, but what we do have is precious.'

Trillian rolled her eyes. 'G.o.d, I'm already sick of all this sweet talk.'

'Me too,' said Wowbagger. 'Do you want to go and insult somebody?'

'I thought you'd never ask.'

'Ever been to the Wavering Wormholes of Stryk Lycombdan Tsing?'

'No. What are the beings there like?'

'Jerks. Complete a.r.s.eholes.'

Trillian ran a search on the Galact-O-Map. 'Well, then, what are we waiting for?'

She selected the glowing dot on the display and the Tanngrisnir Tanngrisnir became one with the night sky. became one with the night sky.

11.

Vogon Bureaucruiser Cla.s.s Hypers.p.a.ce s.h.i.+p, the Business End Business End Hypers.p.a.ce cleared its throat and hawked out a Vogon bureaucruiser into the clear swathe of satin s.p.a.ce 0.01 pa.r.s.ecs beyond Nano's thermosphere. Inside the Business End Business End, three thousand members of the Bureaucratic Corps flopped out of their hypercradles and rubbed the belt dimples from their tummies.

Prostetnic Jeltz was first at his station, dispelling the unsettling daze of ersatz-evolution by pounding on b.u.t.tons and shouting at his slacker subordinates.

'Less sloth, you useless gallywragglers,' he urged. 'Show a little kroompst kroompst. We are on the clock, and it is an atomic clock that will never lose a second.'

The crew grunted kroompst kroompst and moaned their way to various posts, groggily redirecting their animosity towards the planet below. and moaned their way to various posts, groggily redirecting their animosity towards the planet below.

'Hypers.p.a.ce is merely a holiday,' said Jeltz, 'not a place you can live. So forget its false comforts.'

There were few comforts, false or otherwise, on board the Business End Business End. Soft furnis.h.i.+ngs of any kind were verboten verboten for the crew, as they might take the edge off. And a Vogon without his hostile edge is about as much use as a pooh stick in a bartle-bodging contest. for the crew, as they might take the edge off. And a Vogon without his hostile edge is about as much use as a pooh stick in a bartle-bodging contest.

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