Part 35 (1/2)

'It's short,' said Arthur honestly.

'Snappy is a better word, isn't it? You have no idea how many sub-committee meetings went into that slogan. This time next year it will be on the curriculum.'

Random leaned her elbows on the desk. 'I've heard that Nano is what you used to call your grandmother.'

Hillman was rattled. 'Is it? I don't remember. Actually, I think you're right. My goodness, sure I haven't thought about that in years, bejaysus.'

'Don't bother.'

'What?'

'Every time you're in trouble, out comes Paddy the Leprechaun and his cutesy Oirish Oirish accent.' accent.'

'That's ridiculous,' spluttered Hillman, moving on to another level of rattled. 'I am am Irish.' Irish.'

'Not that Irish. The truth of the matter is that you named the entire planet after your granny.'

'The size of the planet was the primary primary reason for the name,' said Hillman, then decided it was time to go on the offensive. 'And, anyway, what if I did name the planet? I paid for most of it and did you see the list of submissions?' He pulled a sheet from his cork board. 'Oak Tree Rise. Aunty JoJo, the world's greatest aunt. Frank. The planet Frank! Come on, kiddo. Nano isn't half bad compared to that lot.' reason for the name,' said Hillman, then decided it was time to go on the offensive. 'And, anyway, what if I did name the planet? I paid for most of it and did you see the list of submissions?' He pulled a sheet from his cork board. 'Oak Tree Rise. Aunty JoJo, the world's greatest aunt. Frank. The planet Frank! Come on, kiddo. Nano isn't half bad compared to that lot.'

Random's jaw jutted. 'Maybe, but naming planets and inventing rousing slogans sound like the seeds of dictators.h.i.+p to me.'

'Thor is lord here,' said Hillman solemnly. 'Not me.'

Arthur jumped in before Random could tackle that one. 'How are the new legs?'

Hillman clip-clopped his hooves under the desk. 'The joints are a bit different but I'm getting used to them. You should see me going up the stairs at night. Like a f.e.c.kin' bullet.'

Random snickered. 'Apparently, Thor has always favoured goats, so people are taking it as a sign.'

Hillman snapped a pencil in his chubby fingers. 'A sign of what? A sign that Zaphod Beeblebrox is a dullard?'

'At least you're alive again,' Arthur pointed out. 'And back on your... erm... hooves. Zaphod did promise you some humanoid legs whenever you feel up to the operation. He found a nice pair in the back of the fridge.'

'You were only dead for twenty minutes,' said Random sweetly. 'So you probably only lost about half your IQ. Not that anyone will notice.'

Arthur decided that it would be prudent to change the subject again.

'Any progress on our citizens.h.i.+p applications?'

'Some,' said Hillman, only too happy to be steered away from talk of his goat's legs. The fact was that he did not want to commit to a second operation. There were advantages to being half goat. Certain sections of the community venerated him, actually bowed down as he pa.s.sed. And a few of the younger, more forward ladies had asked some very personal questions about his new limbage. Very personal.

'Just a couple of questions,' he said, hiding a sudden blush behind his desktop screen. 'Arthur Philip Dent. Blah blah blah. Fine fine fine. Ah, what should we put down for occupation?'

Arthur rubbed his chin. 'It's been a while. I used to work in radio once upon a time. And sandwiches. I can make a decent sandwich.'

'So, media and catering. Good skills to have in a developing world. I don't foresee any problems with your application.'

'What about mine?' asked Random, though it sounded more like a threat than a question.

Hillman leaned back in his chair. 'That depends on you, Random. Are you simply here to rabble rouse the Tyromancers?'

'The Tyromancers have disbanded,' said Random, scowling. 'The cows broke into the compound. And Aseed discovered yogurt. They're using cakes now apparently, critomancy.'

'So you won't be allying yourself to this new cause?'

'No. I have loftier goals.'

'Really? Find a nice boy, settle down?'

'I want to be President.'

If Hillman had been eating something, he would have choked on it. 'President? Of Nano?'

'Of the Galaxy. I've done it before.'

'It's a long story,' said Arthur. 'She needs to go to school.'

'I have eight masters degrees and a double doctorate!' protested his daughter.

'Virtual degrees,' said Arthur calmly. 'I don't think they count.'

'Of course they count, Daddy. Don't be so Cro-Magnon.'

'I don't make the rules.'

'That is such a cliche. You are like a mound of cliche bricks all piled on top of each other to make a person.'

'That's very good imagery, honey. Maybe an Arts degree?'

Hillman had been Sub-Etha surfing during this exchange. 'I might have a little something here to interest you, Random.'

Random selected an 'It will be a cold day in h.e.l.l before you have something to interest me' look from her lexicon and beamed it full force at Hillman.

'I doubt it.'

Hillman beamed back an Oh really Oh really, then pursed his lips, playing harder to get than a redhead at a ceili.

Arthur broke first. 'What?'

'Nothing. Random is right. She wouldn't be interested.'

'Come on, Hillman. Be the mature one.'

Hillman turned the screen round. 'Look here. The University of Cruxwan rules on virtual degrees if you can pa.s.s the qualifying exam. They can extract the memories with this thing that looks like a robotic octopus.'

'That is mildly interesting,' admitted Random, studying the screen. 'And they offer a satellite programme.'

'I could could put in an application for you,' said Hillman. put in an application for you,' said Hillman.

Random recognized his tone from years of virtual negotiations. 'In return for what?'