Part 37 (2/2)

If I know Fenchurch, she's not finished talking yet, thought Arthur, still fighting his way out of a bemused fugue. There are more stories to come. There are more stories to come.

He was right. Fenchurch tapped him on the forearm, tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and opened her mouth.

'And another thing...' she said.

What other thing? Arthur wanted to ask. Arthur wanted to ask. And what thing came before the other thing? Tell me about all the things in order. And what thing came before the other thing? Tell me about all the things in order.

He wanted to say these words to this exotic yet familiar Fenchurch, but when he raised his hands to cradle her face, he saw that his fingers were transparent.

What? Oh, no. No.

Nausea swelled inside him, a barbed boil of static that flowed through his limbs and wrapped his brain in fog.

The Plural zone, he realized. People from a Plural zone should never travel in hypers.p.a.ce. They could end up anywhere. People from a Plural zone should never travel in hypers.p.a.ce. They could end up anywhere.

Arthur saw Fenchurch reach for him. Her beautiful mouth formed his name and then she was zooming away from him in a multicoloured elastic tunnel.

She's not zooming away, Arthur realized. It's me. I'm the one zooming It's me. I'm the one zooming.

The Galaxy swirled around him and he was naked in it without protection from the cold and radiation, and yet he did not die or suffer, simply fumed as the hypers.p.a.ce anomaly drew him further away from his life. Eventually the sheer volume of stuff and perspective grew too terrifying and so Arthur closed his eyelids, which made absolutely no difference as they were transparent, and so he tried to focus on the one place where he had ever known true peace. He bore down mentally, conjuring every bamboo stalk in his hut and every white rock breaching the ocean on his stretch of sand. He did not think of the nebulae swirling past or the red stars spewing their flares into s.p.a.ce. He did not think about these things so much that soon they were all he could not think about.

After a time, which could not be measured even with a top-cla.s.s digital watch, Arthur decided that he felt solid again. He strained his ears and heard waves crash, stuck out his tongue and tasted salt.

Could it be? he wondered. he wondered.

Arthur Dent opened his eyes to find himself sitting on a beach very much like the one from his virtual life. There were differences in the curve of the coastline, but it was as near as made no difference; there was even a small hut just past the scrub line.

Is this possible? he wondered. he wondered. Or even probable, whatever that really means, if it means anything. Or even probable, whatever that really means, if it means anything.

He squinted against the glare of late evening sunrays and could not help but notice a squat yellow shape on the distant horizon.

What? Surely not.

Arthur would have added: It can't be! can't be! but that particular phrase had given up its right to bear an exclamation mark since he'd met Zaphod Beeblebrox. Nothing couldn't be and if it shouldn't be then it generally was. but that particular phrase had given up its right to bear an exclamation mark since he'd met Zaphod Beeblebrox. Nothing couldn't be and if it shouldn't be then it generally was.

A pootle-tink bird sidled alongside him.

'b.l.o.o.d.y Vogons,' it said from the side of its beak. 'They've been here a few days. Apparently someone forgot to file planning permission for that hut.'

'Typical,' said Arthur, then closed his eyes and wished he was somewhere else with someone else.

Guide Note: Arthur Dent's almost incredible bad luck created a providence vacuum which led to unbelievably good fortune for a being on the other side of the Universe. A certain Mr A. Grajag, a little-known sportscaster from Un Hye, was successfully resuscitated after six months of near flat lines on his hospital monitor following a s.p.a.ce collision with a uBid cargo s.h.i.+p. He awoke to a c.o.c.ktail reception from the planetary lotto committee to celebrate his numbers coming up as opposed to his number being up. At the same moment, his childhood sweetheart, who had recognized Mr Grajag from his stint on Celebrity Coma, Celebrity Coma, burst into his hospital room declaring her long-nurtured and genuine love. The pair went on to marry and had two well-adjusted children who had no wish to follow their father into s...o...b..siness, preferring to study law and medicine. burst into his hospital room declaring her long-nurtured and genuine love. The pair went on to marry and had two well-adjusted children who had no wish to follow their father into s...o...b..siness, preferring to study law and medicine.

Had Arthur Dent known about the Grajags it may have cheered him up a little.

But not much.

The End of One of the Middles

EOIN COLFER is the author of the internationally bestselling Artemis Fowl series which has been translated into forty languages, most of them human. Other t.i.tles include is the author of the internationally bestselling Artemis Fowl series which has been translated into forty languages, most of them human. Other t.i.tles include The Wish List The Wish List, The Supernaturalist The Supernaturalist and and Half Moon Investigations Half Moon Investigations, which was made into a hit TV series by the BBC. His books have won several awards, including the British Children's Book of the Year, the German Children's Book of the Year and a Betelgeusean Bloater award for shortest newcomer, which he keeps in his shed as it is radioactive and scares the children.And Another Thing is Eoin's first book for adults, and he found the experience very similar to that of writing for young adults apart from less usage of the phrases is Eoin's first book for adults, and he found the experience very similar to that of writing for young adults apart from less usage of the phrases it wasn't my fault it wasn't my fault and and none of you people get me. none of you people get me.

WHO IS THIS.

EOIN COLFER.

PERSON ANYWAY?.

18 MILLION COPIESSOLD WORLDWIDE'Fast-paced, tongue-in-cheek ... laugh-out-loud' Sunday Times Sunday Times'Wickedly brilliant' Independent Independent'Better fun than this will be hard to come by' The Times The Times'Fast, funny and very exciting' Daily Mail Daily MailA NUMBER O ONE B BESTSELLER

Artemisfowl.co.uk

DOUGLAS ADAMS was born in 1952 and created all the various and contradictory manifestations of was born in 1952 and created all the various and contradictory manifestations of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: radio series, novels, TV series, computer game, stage adaptation, comic book and bath towel.The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy was published thirty years ago on 12 October 1979 and its phenomenal success sent the book straight to number one in the UK bestseller list. In 1984 Douglas Adams became the youngest author to be awarded a Golden Pan. His series has sold over 15 million books in the UK, the US and Australia, and it was also a bestseller in German and many other languages. was published thirty years ago on 12 October 1979 and its phenomenal success sent the book straight to number one in the UK bestseller list. In 1984 Douglas Adams became the youngest author to be awarded a Golden Pan. His series has sold over 15 million books in the UK, the US and Australia, and it was also a bestseller in German and many other languages.The feature film starring Martin Freeman and Zooey Deschanel, with Stephen Fry as the Guide Guide, was released in 2005 using much of Douglas's original script and ideas. Douglas lived with his wife and daughter in Islington, North London, and briefly in California, where he died in 2001.

CELEBRATING 30 YEARS.

OF A WHOLLY REMARKABLE BOOK.

THE HITCHHIKER'S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY.

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So Long, and Thanks for all the Fish 978-0-330-50860-5.

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Simultaneous Ebook editions also available THE HITCHHIKER'S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY Children's Edition ISBN: 978-0-330-50811-7.

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