'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 dictatorship 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 citizenship 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?'

'In return for a little support. I'll be honest with you, Random, I'm an important man. I can't be wasting my valuable time dealing with small potatoes. The steamers are piling high here, my girl. Health and safety violations, all those uBid people looking for residences, tax forms from Megabrantis. Your father told me about your background in politics and...'

'And you want an a.s.sistant?'

'You've put your finger on it. And who would be more qualified than yourself?'

Random tutted. 'Not you, that's for sure. What's in this for me?'

'Experience in the real world. A nice apartment in the village and I'll start you on a level-three wage.'

'Level five,' snapped Random, on principle.

'Five it is,' said Hillman quickly, sticking out his hand.

'Keep your hand,' said Random. 'We can shake after the contracts are signed.'

Hillman pushed back his chair. 'I can see you're going to be a bucket of chuckles. Okay, then, girlie. Be here at eight sharp tomorrow morning, expect me about ten thirty. You can have the tea ready.'

Arthur felt the spectre of relief hovering over on one shoulder and the spectre of foreboding slumped on the other, having a beer, scratching its behind.

Think positive, he told himself. It could work out It could work out.

'I'll make your lunch,' he told Random. 'Sandwiches okay?'

They might not kill each other.

Hillman reached under the desk and scratched the coa.r.s.e hair on his thigh. 'Oh, and I need special shampoo for my new parts. And also you could give me a hand filing my hooves.'

Arthur amended his last thought to They might not kill each other for at least a month They might not kill each other for at least a month, then caught the fire in Random's glare and realized he was being about a fortnight too optimistic.

Zaphod Beeblebrox made a complete nuisance of himself for a few fun-packed weeks, then decided to sneak off into improbability during the night. He would have preferred to make his exit covered in the confetti from a parade given in his honour, but there was the matter of the gold he had liberated from Hillman's safe as payment for Thor's sacrifice. And also there were half a dozen ladies who he may have promised stuff to. Stuff like undying love, a trip to the stars, his pin number.

I'm not here a month, he thought as he skulked up the Heart of Gold Heart of Gold's stairwell. Imagine the damage I could do in a year Imagine the damage I could do in a year.

Zaphod Beeblebrox. The best bang since the Big One. Froody.

Ford Prefect knew how much Zaphod appreciated a nice parade and so brought a pocket full of rice with him to bid farewell to his cousin.

'Farewell, Mr President,' he called, tossing a handful of the rice into the air over Zaphod's head. 'I bet there are a couple of ladies that will miss you.'

Zaphod's facial muscles executed a very complicated manoeuvre that left his expression somewhere between regal and pained.

'Thanks for the send-off, cousin. But I am trying to skulk here.'

'Skulk? Word of the week?'

'Exactly. I'm making enough ruckus as it is manipulatering this bag without you yelling at me.'

Ford shrugged. 'Hey, you're Zaphod Beeblebrox. The Big B. People are going to yell. If I were you, I would never build a silent exit into your escape plan.'

Zaphod squatted for a rest. 'Zark. You're right. I wish someone had told me that before Bront.i.tall, I could have avoided all that egg on my face.'

Guide Note: During a previous adventure that has not yet happened, Zaphod time-travelled to the planet Bront.i.tall where the bird people had re-emerged (will have re-emerged. Please alter any subsequent verbs as appropriate. Conjugating, especially the future perfect, tends to freeze the Guide Guide) as the dominant species. Once Zaphod had successfully shrunk and stolen their sacred statue of Arthur Dent (don't ask), he attempted to sneak back through the s.p.a.ceport, taking a shortcut through the hatchery. Unfortunately, the hatchery was protected by laser eyes, motion detectors, several disgruntled unborn egg spirits and mini-mac self-targeting weapons. Zaphod's hair was wounded, and he wiped out an entire generation of bird people with his chin as he fell. During his trial, a freshly permed Zaphod not only claimed diplomatic immunity but managed to counter-sue the avian government for over-zealous security measures. successfully shrunk and stolen their sacred statue of Arthur Dent (don't ask), he attempted to sneak back through the s.p.a.ceport, taking a shortcut through the hatchery. Unfortunately, the hatchery was protected by laser eyes, motion detectors, several disgruntled unborn egg spirits and mini-mac self-targeting weapons. Zaphod's hair was wounded, and he wiped out an entire generation of bird people with his chin as he fell. During his trial, a freshly permed Zaphod not only claimed diplomatic immunity but managed to counter-sue the avian government for over-zealous security measures.

'I don't remember anything about Bront.i.tall,' said Ford. 'Don't tell me you're having adventures without me.'

'No. I never do anything without you, Ford. You're the one person I trust. The only person I can confide in.'

'What's in the bag?'

'Souvenirs. Some cake mix the Critomancers didn't want. A little microwave oven.'

'Froody. You can make hot cake.'

'That's the plan.'

Zaphod pushed his clanking bag inside the doorway.

'Are you sure you won't hitch a ride?' he asked his cousin.

'No thanks, Zaph. I have a job to do. This planet doesn't have so much as a single article in the Guide. Guide. I'm going to stick around for a couple of weeks and write it up. Do some research, take a little sun.' I'm going to stick around for a couple of weeks and write it up. Do some research, take a little sun.'

'Sounds good,' said Zaphod wistfully.

'So, why don't you stay?'

Zaphod struck a pose on the gantry, one leg bent, forearm across his knee. From somewhere an organic bulb flickered on, etching his jaw in crimson light.

'It's not my destiny, Ford,' he said, a sudden breeze fanning his hair behind him. 'The Universe has different plans for Zaphod Beeblebrox. Wherever there are lonely females, I'll be there. Wherever c.o.c.ktails are given free to celebrities, look for me. Whenever some really bad stuff happens to those people with, you know, depressing stuff in their places, Zaphod Quantus Beeblebrox will do his best to make time for it.'

'Quantus?'

'I'm trying it out. What do you think?'

'Good. Very heroic. Better than the last one.'

'I know,' said Zaphod ruefully. 'Pruntipends. Someone should have told me.'

They did their childhood shake. b.u.m b.u.m boot elbow high five elbow...

'Okay. Be seeing you, Ford,' said Zaphod, stepping inside the doorway force field.

'One more thing,' said Ford. 'Arthur's on this planet so, you know, sooner or later...'

'Someone will try to blow it up. Don't worry, I'll keep an ear on the Sub-Etha. First sign of Vogons and I'll zoom over.'

'I'm counting on you.'