This chapter is for Darling Summers.

Chapter 2

"So, you see that ship out there? That's mine."
"Sure it is, honey."
"No, really!"
Arthur sighed. He'd been watching Ford trying to chat up every female life-form that walked past – with limited success – for around an hour now, and was already getting tired. It was time, he decided, to bring in the big guns.
"Pan-Galactic Gargleblaster, please," he said to the barman, who grunted and prepared one.
"Three pounds," it muttered.
"Put it on my tab."
"Name?"
"Beeblebrox."
It nodded and Arthur took a sip from his reinforced glass.
"...with the Infinite Improbability drive, I can go almost anywhere, you know that?" continued Ford.
Arthur absently wondered how much his friend had had to drink.
"Er, okay, honey."
The blonde creature he had been talking to moved away, and Arthur joined him at the other end of the bar.
"It's true!" called Ford after her. "Damn. I was that close."
Arthur nodded sympathetically.
"So, what have you been doing?" asked Ford, gulping down a mouthful of clear alcohol which Arthur suspected was Nebulan Star-Juice, the space equivalent of paint stripper.
"Well, I've been thinking about the Question again," began Arthur tentatively.
"That old thing? You want my advice? Forget about it. We'll never know that while we know the answer, remember?"
They lapsed into silence. Ideas began to creep into Arthur's relatively sozzled brain as he took another sip of Gargleblaster. He turned to Ford.
"Ford, are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked.
"Quite possibly, but where are we going to find a guillemot at this time of night?"
"No, what I meant was...why a guillemot?"
Ford shrugged.
"Why not a guillemot?"
"What could you possibly do with a guillemot?" Arthur paused. "On second thoughts, don't answer that. I don't really want to know." He paused again. "What was I talking about?"
"Guillemots" answered Ford.
"No, no, no, before that."
"Oh! Erm...ideas! You were thinking about something."
"Oh, yes, of course. Er...do you happen to know what I was thinking about?"
"Not guillemots, apparently." Ford gulped down another mouthful of Star-Juice. "That we should order some more drinks?"
"That'll do." Arthur turned to the barman. "Two Gargle-Blasters, please."
"Six pounds," it replied.
"On my tab. The name's Beeblebrox."
Arthur handed one of the drinks to Ford.
"Beeblebrox. That's Zaphod's name." Ford watched the barman carefully. "Hasn't he noticed that you've got the wrong number of heads?"
"Apparently not."
"And arms, for that matter." Ford turned back to his friend. "Oh. How long have you had two heads, then?"
"What? I haven't got two heads!"
"Oh." Ford squinted into his drink. "This is good stuff."
Arthur suddenly straightened up and tried to slap the top of the bar. He missed.
"I know! The Ultimate Question. You said that we couldn't find it because we know the answer. What if we didn't know the answer?"
Ford looked dumbly at him.
"But we do know the answer" he said.
"Yes. But if we found a, a machine that could get rid of all ourknowledge of the answer, then we're sorted!"
"Oh. Fair enough. But where are we going to find one of those?" queried Ford.
"Can't Eddie do it?" suggested Arthur.
Ford shrugged.
"I don't know. I do know, however, that there is a very attractive life-form sitting right over there. I shouldn't be long."
"You've tried to chat her up already. She said no."
"Did she? Oh. Well, I'm going to go and see if she remembers."
With that, Ford walked over to an attractive brunette in a silver space suit. With a sigh, Arthur downed what was left of his Gargleblaster and promptly slumped over the bar.

A few hours later he woke up, absently peeled a slice of lemon from his cheek and looked around for Ford.
There were only a few people left in Club Omega now, and Arthur had been joined by one of them. It was tall with two heads and three arms which, to Arthur's befuzzled mind, seemed oddly familiar.
"A Galafrean Gin and a Nebulan Star-Juice" ordered the figure.
"Zaphod?" queried Arthur.
It turned and showed itself to be a girl, with spiky blonde hair and brown eyes, which, at the moment, were narrowed at the Earthman.
"Who?" she demanded sharply.
"I thought you were a friend of mine" explained Arthur nervously.
"Hang on...do you mean Zaphod Beeblebrox? The Zaphod Beeblebrox? As in the disgraced President?" she demanded.
"Mm" he agreed vaguely. "His ship's up there."
"Can you take me to him? I've got my own pod, but I have to see him." She paused. "Where are you from? You look...strange."
"Earth."
"Earth? That...hole?"
"S'better than Nowwhat," muttered Arthur, trying to wake himself up. "Wait – who are you? Why do you need to see Zaphod?"
"Mirana" answered the girl, looking as if she was ready to go.
Arthur stood up, with some difficulty, and walked over to the table where Ford was still trying to chat up the brunette, who was almost asleep.
"Ford? Are you awake?" asked Arthur.
"...which is actually one of the froodiest places in the galaxy - what, Arthur?"
"This girl wants to see Zaphod."
"Really? That's a first." Ford stood up and stretched. "Who is she?"
"Mirana Beeblebrox," supplied the girl calmly. "Zaphod's daughter"