Zaphod grabbed Ford's arm.

"Let's stand and fight these guys, impress the chicks," said Zaphod. "I feel like mashing some metal." Zaphod flexed his sinews.

Ford was so stunned he stopped running.

"What are they doing?" Asked Bolo.

"I wish I knew," said Trillian.

"I know," said Marvin. He looked at Bolo and Trillian then went back to looking at Ford and Zaphod.

"Well do you think you could tell us then," said Trillian, trying to remain patient.

"They are lifeforms."

Trillian waited.

"That isn't much help, Marvin," said Bolo.

"Look," said Marvin, summing up every monotony circuit to help convey his message. "Since 97.6667% of activities undertaken by lifeforms are stupid and or pointless, the law of averages says that whatever they are doing is probably stupid and or pointless."

"Thanks, Marvin."

Marvin was, of course, right. Not only were Ford and Zaphod unarmed, they were also well on their way to being legless.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing?" Asked Arthur as he approached the defiant duo.

"Standing our ground," said Ford.

"But that's insane," said Arthur, stopping. Fenchurch had no intention of stopping and every intention of breaking the 100 metres record.

"We can beat these metallic morons," said Zaphod.

"If you stay here they'll become metallic murderers," pleaded Arthur.

"Arthur, if you can't stand the heat, go and join the women," said Ford.

"If I had any sense I would," sighed Arthur and turned to face the oncoming robots.

This stunned the robots. It wasn't in the rules and as there was no umpire handy to consult, they were stumped. They muttered amongst themselves then one stepped forward.

"How do you do," he started, in a perfect English accent. "My name is Jeremy and my colleagues have very kindly voted me spokesman.

"Howdy, Germy, " said Zaphod.

"Er, howdy to you, too. Now, we are a bit perplexed to say the least by your actions. We have been programmed to kill you, not our choice you see, and we were having quite a jolly time chasing you and that."

"Spiffing fun, wasn't it old chap," chirped Ford.

"Yes, very exhilarating. But it would be very unsporting of us to kill you in cold blood."

"I'll say!" Shouted one robot from the back.

"Well they say the chase is better than the catch," said Arthur.

"You are so right," said Jeremy.

"Well guys," said Zaphod, holding his arms out. "You've been so nice about all this, we'll give you a break. We'll go to our ship, take off and then you can come and chase us. All this running is bad for the legs."

"Hear, hear!" Shouted the robots.

"Sounds like a grand idea to me," said Jeremy.

"Okay then, that's settled," said Ford. "Give us five minutes to get a head start then it's 'Tally-Ho' away you go!"

This started Jeremy off, leading the robots in 'three cheers for the lads' and Arthur thinking that they still hadn't quite got the programming right at the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation.

"Look at those schmucks," said Zaphod as they turned to the Heart of Gold. "We'll improb out of here and they won't know where to start looking."

They got back to the ship, with Ford and Arthur congratulating each other and Zaphod congratulating himself. The girls tried to compete by telling the guys how stupid they had been.

"Okay computer, get us out of this wretched place," said Zaphod as he arrived at the bridge.

"Hi guys," enthused Eddie."Great to see you again. I'm sorry I can't get you out of this, but I'm sure we are going to have a great time instead."

"What are you talking about, computer?" Asked Ford. "Use the improbability drive and get us out before some very sporting robots tear us limb from limb."

"Well, there's the problem," said Eddie. "the improbability drive isn't working, some clown pulled a wire on it. Anyone fancy a game of Charades? I'm not too good at acting them out but I'm a whizz at guessing them."

"Swutting mechanics," growled Zaphod.

"Did they pull the wire?" Asked Frod.

"No, I did," admitted Zaphod. "But that's not the point."

"Nice going, Zaphod," sighed Ford. "You've done some dumb things in your time and I thought I witnessed a cla.s.sic just now outside but no, this takes honours."

"Hey! Don't come down on me," pleaded Zaphod. "My hangovers are catching up with me."

"If those robots catch up with you," yelled Arthur, glad of the chance to let off some steam at Zaphod. "You'll have a hangover you'll never forget, or never remember, according to where you end up. I just hope I don't end up in the same place. Purgatory would be a great alternative."

"Is there no way off this planet without improbability drive?" Asked Bolo.

"Oh yes," said Ford. "Dead easy way through the acid clouds, only we don't know the co-ordinates."

"I know the co-ordinates."

Everyone turned to look at Marvin. He pretended to be interested in something else, which as he had no interest in anything, he didn't do very convincingly.

"Marvin, old buddy, old mate," gushed Zaphod. "Looks like you've come through for us again."

"I said I know the co-ordinates," said Marvin. "I didn't say I was going to tell you."

Zaphod aimed a wild kick at Marvin, which only resulted in Marvin not being dented and Zaphod crawling about on the floor holding his foot and whimpering in pain and lack of sympathy.

"Look, Marvin," said Trillian, softly. "Please feed the co-ordinates into Eddie. I'm supposed to get married to Zaphod later and you wouldn't want me to miss that, would you?"

Marvin thought about this point for a long time before he gave his answer. To everyone else, he appeared to answer back immediately.

"I don't really care about that, but I'd rather not stay with those tiresome tin soldiers out there, they bore me to tears, where as you only bore me to distraction." He made his way over to Eddie.

"Hi, Marvin."

"Actually I am very low."

"Even robots like to be greeted in a friendly and cheerful manner."

"Well I don't, so just shut up."

"Most robots seem to respond well to my pleasing tones and often remark about.... OUCH!"

"I just jammed those co-ordinates right up his rectal information pa.s.sage," said Marvin.

"I like your style," said Ford. "Okay, Eddie, get us out of here."

"Okay fella," said Eddie. "But could you tell Marvin to be a little more laid back about this?"

The Heart of Gold leapt into a drunken dance through the clouds. Ford and Bolo retired to their quarters to explore the hypothesis that s.e.xual performance is affected detrimentally by stress and pressure. There was also the theory of s.e.x after death to evaluate if the situation arose. It amounted to a lot of research to be crammed in, which explained their eagerness to get on with it.

"I don't know how they can," muttered Arthur.

"Perhaps if you ask them nicely they'll let you watch," scowled Zaphod.

Arthur reverted his attention to the monitor. He could see six small blobs gaining on the large blob that was the Heart of Gold.

"Can't we go into hypers.p.a.ce or something?" Asked Fenchurch.

"We could end up smack bang in the middle of a Supernova," said Zaphod, purposefully flicking a handful of switches. The fact that he had only turned down the air conditioning wasn't important, the main thing was that he was doing something.

The Heart of Gold screamed out of the acid clouds like Archimedes out of the bath having sat on something.

"Come with me," said Zaphod, pulling Arthur along. They went through the ship until they came to a ladder. Zaphod gestured Arthur down as he started climbing up. Arthur found himself in a gla.s.s bowl on the side of the ship. He looked up and saw Zaphod in another bowl. Zaphod was seated and putting on a headset. Arthur followed suit and looked at the array of instruments in front of him. It suddenly clicked. These were the telecommunication rooms and he was going to act as a temporary telephonist to try and convince the robots they had the wrong number. He tried a few practice 'Good morning, Heart of Gold, which number please?' then took hold of one of the handles in front of him which he a.s.sumed was the spare telephone handset. He turned the handle and the seat changed position. He grabbed the other handle and found to his delight that he could move up, down and side to side.

"This is much better than the swivel chairs our telephonists had," he yelled to Zaphod. Zaphod was too busy looking out of his bowl.

"Here they come!" Said Trillian in Arthur's headset. Six small robot fighters hurtled past the Heart of Gold, guns a blazing. Arthur panicked and pressed the b.u.t.ton on one of the handles. A bolt of laser scorched into s.p.a.ce. He felt incredibly foolish. He hid his embarra.s.sment by trying to blast the robot ships our of the sky.

"They're coming in too fast!" He shouted to Zaphod.

Zaphod twisted around and shot ahead of a fighter. The ship went straight into his line of fire and was blasted to pieces.

"A-ha!" He yelled.

Arthur tried to concentrate. He watched one ship and tried to predict its flight. He lined himself up and pressed the b.u.t.ton. To his complete surprise he hit the ship and knocked it out of existence.

"I got one!" He yelled.

"Don't get c.o.c.ky, kid," growled Zaphod.

One fighter flew past Zaphod's bowl and blasted the sh.e.l.l of the Heart of Gold. Zaphod made him pay with a shot which knocked him into another fighter, destroying them both.

"Top that," he said to Arthur.

The three remaining fighters were flying in formation out of range. They dived down and did more damage to the Heart of Gold.

"We've lost two stabilisers," said Trillian over the intercom.

"Don't worry," replied Zaphod. "She'll hold together." He looked at the ship. "You hear me ship, hold together."

The three fighters were descending on another attack. Arthur took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He shot and clipped the first ship, which spun out of control into the other two. There was an enormous explosion and debris showered the Heart of Gold. Unfortunately, one large piece of debris smashed into the tail and with two stabilisers gone, the ship spun hopelessly out of control. Round and round, the Heart of Gold was mercilessly pulled towards the desert planet of Stavromula Beta, where Arthur was to receive the shock of his life, because a lot of religious people he didn't know were waiting to meet him.

CHAPTER 60.

According to the Encyclopaedia Galactica, religion is an evolutionary stage most races go through as a stepping stone to peace of mind or enlightenment. The Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy describes religion as great fun if you pick the right one and goes on to recommend several religions, based on fulfilment, cheapness and extent of brainwashing. The Guide then goes on with the following description of the history of religion with a footnote to the effect that although the views expressed may not be those of the Editor, he'll agree to put anything in which is supported by a large drink.

Most religions follow the same basic path. It starts as an excuse for something which defies explanation, such as a nearby star, fire or water. As these things are understood, the energy channelled into worshipping has to be redirected, and as sophistication evolves, so does religion, to the extent of telling you what to do, what not to do, when to do it and at what time of year. As this usually involves something fun being forbidden, some people lose interest at this stage. Those who continue soon begin to lose sight of the original concept and diversification sets in to turn religion into what it is wanted to be (such the Holy Order of s.e.xual Enjoyment) rather than what was originally intended. This leads to disillusionment (except in the Holy Order of s.e.xual Enjoyment) and religion is generally given up, put down as 'One of those phases we went through', like teenage acne.

Some people still follow religions, one of the most famous people being Looleel Jegula. He was a devout follower of the Order of Sanctonimity, a particularly dull religious group who believed that three days a year should be devoted to lying in mud swamps to show how grateful they were to be alive. This resulted in much ridiculing by non-believers, until Looleel announced that he was going to travel back in time to meet his maker, thank him, and return with proof of his existence. He made a tearful farewell to his Order, stepped into his time bubble, which promptly disappeared into time. He returned moments later to declare that although he hadn't actually met his maker, he had come across a 'NO ENTRY' sign at the year zero, which he claimed was proof that some holy person had been around to erect it. The sign had, in fact, been put there by non-believers as a practical joke and when Looleel was told, a big row broke out about time travel and messing around with history. Looleel became very unreligious for one moment and thumped one of the non-believers, which started an almighty war.

After politics and the Babel Fish, religion is the third greatest cause of war ever known to the Galaxy.

As for religious diversification, a perfect example can be found on the desert planet of Stavromula Beta. The Stavromulans have a strange history, which needs to be explored to understand their complex religious rituals.

The Stavromulans are dwarf-like nomads, though this was not always the case. They are also half-stupid, which can be seen by the fact that although in certain areas they evolved very quickly, in most areas they remain positively backwards. For example, newspapers started at the same time as writing and could have evolved into something very sophisticated but remained at the level of gutter press because of the inferior intelligence of the readers. The most famous men in Stavromulan history were journalists. Each week these twelve journalists would meet up to discuss the week's stories and have a slap up meal. For Stavromulans, they were very intelligent, for they had vivid imaginations and created stories out of nothing. Normal Stavromulans had no imagination and, for example, would name their offspring with one name, then number any subsequent children. The children, being even more stupid, would always get their names wrong because they would be introduced, for example, as 'Our Second Bup'. The children would then call themselves 'Our second Bup' instead of Bup number two.

The journalists would generally create a few new stories over dinner and then whoever paid the bill would get the exclusive. This was fine until one night when no news was bad news. No stories came forth, and there was no-one to foot the bill. Then one bright journalist suggested creating a person to pay the bill. This went down very well and all that was needed was a name. Silence fell over the table, until one of those freak wormholes in s.p.a.ce and time opened up and the name 'Arthur Dent' fell out. Now as all Stavromulan journalists were expert ventriloquists (because of their ability to talk out of orifices other than their mouths) each journalist a.s.sumed someone else said it.

"Our benefactor shall be called 'Our Third Ent'," declared one journalist and so this mystery character was created.

The journalists started leaving the restaurant, telling the waiter that 'Our Third Ent' was paying and he was currently throwing up in the toilet. The ruse worked and was continued for many weeks until after one meal (generally referred to as the Last Slap Up), a journalist called 'Our First Udaz' was hard up for a story and decided to do an article on a mystery man called 'Our Third Ent' who was conning free meals out of restaurant owners. The other journalists were furious and all started writing their own exclusive interviews with 'Our Third Ent', each defending his actions and trying to outdo each other. This went on for weeks, with '20 things we've made up about Our Third Ent' Articles and 'Our Third Ent bingo'. All this exposure (and the mystery as no-one really knew anything about him) made 'Our Third Ent' a national hero. When one journalist decided to end the saga by reporting that 'Our Third Ent' had gone away but would return one day, all other papers gladly followed the story with confirmations, as they were all tired of it as well. However, this wasn't the end. The public were so caught up in the stories, they believed that when 'Our Third Ent' returned, he would save the world. Quite what was up with the world that it needed saving wasn't known, but the newspaper articles had changed Stavromulan history. The economy disappeared overnight as everyone decided to follow 'Our Third Ent's' example and not pay for anything. The people became nomadic, leaving before any bills arrived, building mighty roads out of bricks made from the yellow sands of the deserts. Throwing up became a regular ritual.

So the foundations of Stavromulan religion were laid, but as everyone read different newspapers, they all had different ideas of 'Our Third Ent's' life on Stavromula and what it would be like when he returned, and so were the various religious sects formed. Some believed 'Our Third Ent' would bring s.e.xual freedom on his return and this sect made love on three 'Our Third Ent' newspaper articles, twice a month, as a sign of faith. Others believed he would settle up all his bills, then find a nice young girl to marry. This sect would spend one day in every eighteen thrashing nice young single girls with a newspaper in preparation.