The eyes belonged to a woman. She looked a bit younger than the man
staring at her, and she was in rough shape. She was much too thin to be
healthy, dressed in clothes that were almost, but not quite, ragged enough
to be called rags. Her arms and legs were covered in bruises and scratches,
some of which looked fairly recent. Her build was tall but awkward, and she
didn't look as if she could be too strong. Her hair was a grimy auburn
color, and her features were striking on her pale skin. Her eyes were
sunken, grey, watering and nervous. They were absolutely fixed on Ford and
she looked positively horrified.
Ford was amused about the whole situation. "What ever happened to thank you?" he teased her, grinning only slightly. He hadn't really expected a woman to be in the closet, but he wasn't really surprised either. It was hard to be surprised by anything if you lived on the Heart of Gold.
She wasn't sure if he was serious or not. She decided it would be safer to take it as if he were serious. She smirked deeply at him, keeping her eyes fixed directly on his. "Thank you," she mumbled under her breath. She was still afraid, but she knew she would be better off if he didn't know that. A lot of factors played into the situation.
Ford knew he should get the others, and felt that the scrawny little woman couldn't be much of a threat, but he found it difficult, if not impossible, to break the eye contact. She was grinning in a way he did not like, and he had the sinking feeling in his stomach that he was ultimately loosing to her. That was when he got the sudden urge to not be alone with her any longer. "Hey guys!" he shouted, though he still could not look away. "I found it over here!"
When the other three showed up behind him, he was still having a staring contest with the girl. Neither of them had blinked yet, but she looked thoroughly amused, whereas he did not. When she released him to glance, slightly nervously, at the others, he was panting from exhaustion.
"This the whole posse?" she asked, her eyes darting between the four of them. Even though she looked away first, she felt she was ultimately the winner of her contest with Ford, and that made her feel a bit more confident.
"Yes," Trillian gave her the benefit of the doubt and told her the truth. "Where are you from?"
"Earth," she answered casually, rubbing at her nose. "The name is Gormley Junction." Trillian and Arthur shot each other a blank look of disbelief. Ford was still standing in front, and he leaned in slightly, glaring suspiciously at her with a different kind of disbelief – he absolutely did not believe her. Only Zaphod was not thrown for some kind of loop. It was not a coincidence that he was the only one that had not lived on Earth for an extended period of time.
"Earth!" he exclaimed, stepping forward and simultaneously pushing Ford out of the way. "Thought we had the last of those, but now... I suppose we really do!" He was grinning largely, thinking that this was quite an incredible piece of luck.
Ford, on the other hand, was thinking no such thing. He stepped back in front of Zaphod, leaning down to the woman's level. "Ha ha," he said, although he didn't seem to find it in the least bit funny. "Now, where are you really from?" Zaphod was utterly confused about this display of what could only be the opposite of trust. Arthur and Trillian, though, knew where he was coming from. There was something subtly foreign about her. It struck Arthur as the same subtly odd thing he'd seen in Ford back when they both lived on Earth.
She knew Ford would figure it out. She knew where he was from too. It could only be one place. "Betelgeuse Three," she answered, just loudly enough for him to hear.
"As I thought. And your real name?"
"Gormlean Jonqtuma."
"Mmhmm..." he concluded with satisfaction, grinning slightly. He hadn't lost so badly after all, he thought. Then he retreated back to the line of the others.
Trillian, as usual, approached the situation with the most level- headedness. She motioned the rucksack in the closet that she'd been eyeing. "Hand it over. I have to see if you're clean."
Gormlean didn't like the idea of that. There was nothing incriminating, she just didn't want anyone else's filthy hands touching her things. After a few moments of hesitation, she handed it up, giving Trillian the evil eye.
The first thing Trillian pulled out was a copy of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, with the word "don't" scratched off the cover. She looked up (or rather, down) to the other woman. "Aha, you're a hitchhiker then?"
An involuntary look of revulsion quickly spread across her face. "Absolutely not," she replied, making no attempt to hide her disdain and disgust at the mere thought. "A stowaway. Seeing the entire galaxy for exactly zero Altarian dollars a day."
The word 'obvious' simultaneously drifted through everyone's minds. In addition, Trillian connected with the word 'stupid.'
All of a sudden, everyone knew quite a lot more about their guest. Stowaways had clear and unique personality traits. Here is what the Guide has to say about them: Stowaways are a very proud breed. They often consider 'luxuries' what most other people consider basic needs (for example, food). They are invariably very intelligent, not because only intelligent creatures choose to become stowaways, but because only intelligent stowaways survive. It's a risky occupation, so if you meet one that's still alive (and don't kill it), you should congratulate it. The only thing that's greater than a hitchhiker's hate for a stowaway is a stowaway's hate for a hitchhiker. They find hitchhikers weak for needing so much help from others. (However, most people aren't surprised to find out that the murder rate of stowaways is much higher than that of hitchhikers.) They did not hate the guide at the time of publishing, but by the time you're reading this, they probably do (thanks to this entry.)
If there had been any small chance of Ford and Gormlean becoming friends, this killed it. This was a feud that had been going on since before either of them existed.
In accordance with this, Ford was the first to speak. "I think we should kill it," he spat out. Everyone involved except for him found this to be rather harsh. The only reason he did not was he was still sore from the 'staring contest,' which was really just him being taken advantage of. His reaction was a dead giveaway, at least to the girl, that he must be a hitchhiker. Nothing else could be so vile.
The Guide was right about the intelligence thing. Gormlean quickly determined Ford was not willing to help her and decided to begin taking advantage of someone else, namely, Arthur. She turned her full attention onto him, whom she had decided was the male who was most likely to take pity on her. "Please don't, I've made it this far!" She sighed deeply rubbing at her nose, which was still running.
Her calculations had been correct. Arthur turned to Trillian and Zaphod, feeling tremendously bad for the woman, completely unaware that that was how she wanted him to feel. "Let's keep her," he suggested.
To everyone's surprise, Ford seemed to like this idea. "Yes!" he exclaimed. "That's a perfectly lovely idea! Let's keep her for a pet!" He grinned maliciously at her. "I've always wanted a dog."
That was a worse insult than it might have seemed. The Guide sums up pretty nicely how the Universe feels about dogs. Horrible, filthy creatures, it says.
Trillian nudged him slightly with her shoulder. "Be nice," she warned him. Rather nice of her to give him a warning, really, so it was a shame he ignored it.
"You know, I've always wondered, though..." he continued as if Trillian was not there. "If I ever did have a dog, would I remember to feed it?" He'd finally succeeded in inventing a thinner veil for thinly veiled threats.
Gormlean opened her mouth to say something she knew she'd regret, realized they were still debating over whether or not to kill her, and closed it again, grinning a painful, thin lipped grin. "Well, I assure you, I can go without food for quite a long while. However, I feel you couldn't say the same, which is why I think you are weaker than me." It was a bit of a risk, but she felt as if the others would understand she had earned it.
They did. Trillian elbowed him, quite a bit harder this time. He rubbed self-righteously at it, glaring at her. Clearly, he didn't understand what he did wrong. In his head, he was the victim. On top of that, she had hit him on the arm that was still bruised from a close call with a sperm whale and some petunias. "Strike two," she mouthed to him, and he shrugged. He wondered how exactly she was choosing the strikes. The current situation wasn't quite like any sport he knew.
Gormlean's eyes searched Trillian for an answer, but got nothing.
"Let's be civilized," Zaphod interjected. He hadn't quite caught the significance of Ford's discovery and still thought they were dealing with another Earthling. "We'll have a vote." Gormlean thought voting on her life was less than civilized, but decided against saying so. "Who thinks we should keep her?"
Arthur's hand went into the air first, followed by Trillian's. Both of them felt sorry for the girl; Arthur for the shape she was in, and Trillian for how she was being treated by Ford. Ford's hand began to go up next, but was withdrawn when Trillian clarified, "He means keep her as a guest." Zaphod, who expected people to vote vocally, caught on and raised one of his arms as well. He didn't really feel any pity for her; he just thought that they might as well collect her if she was from Earth as well. Then they'd have the lot.
Arthur nudged Gormlean with his foot. "Vote for yourself," he whispered to her. Realizing she could do this, her hand shot up as well, exposing more of her bruised arm.
"Looks like it's four to one," Trillian observed with a nod. Gormlean let out a loud sigh of relief and her life stopped flashing before her eyes, which was good, as it was very distracting. Trillian grinned slightly. "Sorry, Ford, but you'll have to learn to deal with her."
He didn't seem to hear. "I'd watch my back if I were a little canine like – Geeaaahhh!" The first part of his statement was a clear indication that was planning something, and it was caused by a newly exposed, malicious part of his mind that the girl seemed to bring out in him. The second part was a yelp of a sudden outburst of pain and was caused by something Trillian was doing to his shoulder.
"Three strikes, Ford, you're out!"
While Ford, Trillian and Zaphod got into a heated argument about the whole situation, Gormlean gently nudged Arthur's ankle and he looked down at her. "Is he always like this?" she whispered, motioning to Ford.
"Oh, not really. Maybe he'll snap out of it."
"I doubt it," she grinned. "He's a hitchhiker."
Ford was amused about the whole situation. "What ever happened to thank you?" he teased her, grinning only slightly. He hadn't really expected a woman to be in the closet, but he wasn't really surprised either. It was hard to be surprised by anything if you lived on the Heart of Gold.
She wasn't sure if he was serious or not. She decided it would be safer to take it as if he were serious. She smirked deeply at him, keeping her eyes fixed directly on his. "Thank you," she mumbled under her breath. She was still afraid, but she knew she would be better off if he didn't know that. A lot of factors played into the situation.
Ford knew he should get the others, and felt that the scrawny little woman couldn't be much of a threat, but he found it difficult, if not impossible, to break the eye contact. She was grinning in a way he did not like, and he had the sinking feeling in his stomach that he was ultimately loosing to her. That was when he got the sudden urge to not be alone with her any longer. "Hey guys!" he shouted, though he still could not look away. "I found it over here!"
When the other three showed up behind him, he was still having a staring contest with the girl. Neither of them had blinked yet, but she looked thoroughly amused, whereas he did not. When she released him to glance, slightly nervously, at the others, he was panting from exhaustion.
"This the whole posse?" she asked, her eyes darting between the four of them. Even though she looked away first, she felt she was ultimately the winner of her contest with Ford, and that made her feel a bit more confident.
"Yes," Trillian gave her the benefit of the doubt and told her the truth. "Where are you from?"
"Earth," she answered casually, rubbing at her nose. "The name is Gormley Junction." Trillian and Arthur shot each other a blank look of disbelief. Ford was still standing in front, and he leaned in slightly, glaring suspiciously at her with a different kind of disbelief – he absolutely did not believe her. Only Zaphod was not thrown for some kind of loop. It was not a coincidence that he was the only one that had not lived on Earth for an extended period of time.
"Earth!" he exclaimed, stepping forward and simultaneously pushing Ford out of the way. "Thought we had the last of those, but now... I suppose we really do!" He was grinning largely, thinking that this was quite an incredible piece of luck.
Ford, on the other hand, was thinking no such thing. He stepped back in front of Zaphod, leaning down to the woman's level. "Ha ha," he said, although he didn't seem to find it in the least bit funny. "Now, where are you really from?" Zaphod was utterly confused about this display of what could only be the opposite of trust. Arthur and Trillian, though, knew where he was coming from. There was something subtly foreign about her. It struck Arthur as the same subtly odd thing he'd seen in Ford back when they both lived on Earth.
She knew Ford would figure it out. She knew where he was from too. It could only be one place. "Betelgeuse Three," she answered, just loudly enough for him to hear.
"As I thought. And your real name?"
"Gormlean Jonqtuma."
"Mmhmm..." he concluded with satisfaction, grinning slightly. He hadn't lost so badly after all, he thought. Then he retreated back to the line of the others.
Trillian, as usual, approached the situation with the most level- headedness. She motioned the rucksack in the closet that she'd been eyeing. "Hand it over. I have to see if you're clean."
Gormlean didn't like the idea of that. There was nothing incriminating, she just didn't want anyone else's filthy hands touching her things. After a few moments of hesitation, she handed it up, giving Trillian the evil eye.
The first thing Trillian pulled out was a copy of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, with the word "don't" scratched off the cover. She looked up (or rather, down) to the other woman. "Aha, you're a hitchhiker then?"
An involuntary look of revulsion quickly spread across her face. "Absolutely not," she replied, making no attempt to hide her disdain and disgust at the mere thought. "A stowaway. Seeing the entire galaxy for exactly zero Altarian dollars a day."
The word 'obvious' simultaneously drifted through everyone's minds. In addition, Trillian connected with the word 'stupid.'
All of a sudden, everyone knew quite a lot more about their guest. Stowaways had clear and unique personality traits. Here is what the Guide has to say about them: Stowaways are a very proud breed. They often consider 'luxuries' what most other people consider basic needs (for example, food). They are invariably very intelligent, not because only intelligent creatures choose to become stowaways, but because only intelligent stowaways survive. It's a risky occupation, so if you meet one that's still alive (and don't kill it), you should congratulate it. The only thing that's greater than a hitchhiker's hate for a stowaway is a stowaway's hate for a hitchhiker. They find hitchhikers weak for needing so much help from others. (However, most people aren't surprised to find out that the murder rate of stowaways is much higher than that of hitchhikers.) They did not hate the guide at the time of publishing, but by the time you're reading this, they probably do (thanks to this entry.)
If there had been any small chance of Ford and Gormlean becoming friends, this killed it. This was a feud that had been going on since before either of them existed.
In accordance with this, Ford was the first to speak. "I think we should kill it," he spat out. Everyone involved except for him found this to be rather harsh. The only reason he did not was he was still sore from the 'staring contest,' which was really just him being taken advantage of. His reaction was a dead giveaway, at least to the girl, that he must be a hitchhiker. Nothing else could be so vile.
The Guide was right about the intelligence thing. Gormlean quickly determined Ford was not willing to help her and decided to begin taking advantage of someone else, namely, Arthur. She turned her full attention onto him, whom she had decided was the male who was most likely to take pity on her. "Please don't, I've made it this far!" She sighed deeply rubbing at her nose, which was still running.
Her calculations had been correct. Arthur turned to Trillian and Zaphod, feeling tremendously bad for the woman, completely unaware that that was how she wanted him to feel. "Let's keep her," he suggested.
To everyone's surprise, Ford seemed to like this idea. "Yes!" he exclaimed. "That's a perfectly lovely idea! Let's keep her for a pet!" He grinned maliciously at her. "I've always wanted a dog."
That was a worse insult than it might have seemed. The Guide sums up pretty nicely how the Universe feels about dogs. Horrible, filthy creatures, it says.
Trillian nudged him slightly with her shoulder. "Be nice," she warned him. Rather nice of her to give him a warning, really, so it was a shame he ignored it.
"You know, I've always wondered, though..." he continued as if Trillian was not there. "If I ever did have a dog, would I remember to feed it?" He'd finally succeeded in inventing a thinner veil for thinly veiled threats.
Gormlean opened her mouth to say something she knew she'd regret, realized they were still debating over whether or not to kill her, and closed it again, grinning a painful, thin lipped grin. "Well, I assure you, I can go without food for quite a long while. However, I feel you couldn't say the same, which is why I think you are weaker than me." It was a bit of a risk, but she felt as if the others would understand she had earned it.
They did. Trillian elbowed him, quite a bit harder this time. He rubbed self-righteously at it, glaring at her. Clearly, he didn't understand what he did wrong. In his head, he was the victim. On top of that, she had hit him on the arm that was still bruised from a close call with a sperm whale and some petunias. "Strike two," she mouthed to him, and he shrugged. He wondered how exactly she was choosing the strikes. The current situation wasn't quite like any sport he knew.
Gormlean's eyes searched Trillian for an answer, but got nothing.
"Let's be civilized," Zaphod interjected. He hadn't quite caught the significance of Ford's discovery and still thought they were dealing with another Earthling. "We'll have a vote." Gormlean thought voting on her life was less than civilized, but decided against saying so. "Who thinks we should keep her?"
Arthur's hand went into the air first, followed by Trillian's. Both of them felt sorry for the girl; Arthur for the shape she was in, and Trillian for how she was being treated by Ford. Ford's hand began to go up next, but was withdrawn when Trillian clarified, "He means keep her as a guest." Zaphod, who expected people to vote vocally, caught on and raised one of his arms as well. He didn't really feel any pity for her; he just thought that they might as well collect her if she was from Earth as well. Then they'd have the lot.
Arthur nudged Gormlean with his foot. "Vote for yourself," he whispered to her. Realizing she could do this, her hand shot up as well, exposing more of her bruised arm.
"Looks like it's four to one," Trillian observed with a nod. Gormlean let out a loud sigh of relief and her life stopped flashing before her eyes, which was good, as it was very distracting. Trillian grinned slightly. "Sorry, Ford, but you'll have to learn to deal with her."
He didn't seem to hear. "I'd watch my back if I were a little canine like – Geeaaahhh!" The first part of his statement was a clear indication that was planning something, and it was caused by a newly exposed, malicious part of his mind that the girl seemed to bring out in him. The second part was a yelp of a sudden outburst of pain and was caused by something Trillian was doing to his shoulder.
"Three strikes, Ford, you're out!"
While Ford, Trillian and Zaphod got into a heated argument about the whole situation, Gormlean gently nudged Arthur's ankle and he looked down at her. "Is he always like this?" she whispered, motioning to Ford.
"Oh, not really. Maybe he'll snap out of it."
"I doubt it," she grinned. "He's a hitchhiker."