42

After that, a lot of things happened that took quite a long time to resolve but not a lot of time to explain.

The Plaxx, having come to the awareness that they had been manipulated by Paradox, gave everyone involved a sincere apology and a cleaning, then left for parts unknown.

The Chronological Correcting Fluid was destroyed along with Paradox, so it would never be used again. A little bit after that, the Time Printer vanished, along with the Time Paper.

The Ultra-Walrus found itself in a temple with nothing to guard, but the Aggressive Sales Representatives had greatly widened the hole in the roof, allowing a lot of sunshine in. The Ultra-Walrus turned the Temple into a garden full-time.

The Sirius Cybernetics Corporation, enraged by the loss of the Fluid, tried to destroy Uh-Doptorra and everyone on it with a fleet of Aggressive Sales Representatives. Fortunately, the Corporation didn't have many Representatives left, and those they had refused to go back down to the planet, so the Corporation had to settle for remotely disabling the Heart of Gold and flying back to the Sirius Tau system in a huff.

With the Chronological Correcting Fluid gone, the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation no longer had any use for The Hitchhiker's Guide and spun it back off into its own company to do whatever the heck it liked, for all the Corporation cared.

Eddie managed to reactivate the Heart of Gold and they were on their way.

They dropped off Joon Plinx at the University of MaxiMegalon with enough material to write her thesis on the Chronological Correcting Fluid. She ultimately failed her archaeology course because her professor didn't believe a word of it.

The only real problem that remained was Zaphod Beeblebrox.

He was furious at the destruction of the Chronological Correcting Fluid. It didn't take long before the others found out why.

"You were going to erase your first presidential term?" yelled Trillian. "Are you mad? Didn't it occur to you that you would be erasing everything else along with it?"

Arthur brightened. "But that would have erased the destruction of Earth as well, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, along with me and you, Arthur, as well as Ford, this ship, and everything else associated with it. That's what Treedeebee discovered, that the Fluid erases everything in that time period and everything that's connected to it from then on."

Zaphod's left head looked away, refusing to be drawn into the conversation. His right head yelled, "Look, it doesn't matter now, okay? It's all over. My re-election campaign is shot to Zarquon, thanks to the Monkeyman here."

Ford lay on the couch, thumbing through his copy of The Hitchhiker's Guide. He called out, "I'm afraid you've got bigger problems, my old mate. There's a big chunk of history that's gone missing from the Guide. Everything from a week ago in the third year of the Xorphen Era."

"So?"

"That week doesn't ring any bells?"

"No. I got lots of weeks, I can't keep track of all of them. I just let weeks take care of themselves. If I wait long enough, they turn into months. What's your point?"

"That week is when you were born. It's gone."

Zaphod's two heads blinked in unison. They slowly turned to Arthur. Their scowl deepened. "I got you to thank for that, Monkeyman?"

"What?" asked Arthur. "No. Why would you? Oh, you mean that Fluid thing? Well, I did accidentally erase some frogs. Er, and the ecosystem of their entire planet. But I thought you were from a different planet. Beetle-something."

"Okay," said Trillian. "So while you were up there, you didn't erase any other history?"

"No. Of course not. Er, well, there was one other bit. It was when I was trying to hit that smiling fellow. I missed and, er, hit some more Time Paper by accident. Now that I recall, there was that one other bit."

Zaphod's right head closed its eyes. "One other bit."

His left head opened its eyes. It screamed, "The zarking day I was born!"

"But this makes no sense," Trillian murmured. "If Arthur erased your birthday, then why are you still here?"

"How should I know? Maybe I'm such a cool guy that the Universe couldn't bear to part with me."

"Or," said Ford, "there is the little matter of the accident. With the contraceptive and the time machine."

Trillian said, "A time machine. That's it. It was the Chronological Correcting Fluid all along."

"Fantastic," snapped Zaphod. "Thanks a lot, Monkeyman. All right, where do we go from here? How do I get back in play?"

"Well," sad Trillian slowly. "I have a thought. But I'm not sure you're going to like it."

"Hey, if it involves contraceptives," said Zaphod, "I'm sure I won't like it."

A few thousand years in the past, the Heart of Gold orbited a small planet in the vicinity of Betelgeuse.

Arthur and Trillian sat on the bridge of the Heart of Gold, playing Scrabble. Fenchurch lay on the couch, reading entries from the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

Ford stumbled onto the bridge, carrying his bulging towel over his shoulder. "Well, one good thing about this trip. I was able to get some rather fine bottles of Shylakk liquor from a local supply station. They stopped manufacturing it after too many people who drank it had their brains eaten out. What, Zaphod's not back yet?"

"Not yet," said Trillian as she considered her next move.

Ford set the towel down by the bar and unwrapped it to reveal dozens of bottles. He began restocking the ship's liquor cabinet with them. "How hard is it to seduce your own great-great-grandmother?"

Fenchurch looked up. "I'm still not sure I understand this plan. How does Zaphod having sex with his great-great-grandmother solve the problem?"

"Simple," said Trillian. "At this point, Zaphod's birthday is gone, which means he has never been born. But if Zaphod's great-great-grandmother gives birth to his son, then that child will be Zaphod's great-grandfather, Zaphod Beeblebrox the Fourth. Then his son will be Zaphod's grandfather, Zaphod Beeblebrox the Third, and his son will be Zaphod Beeblebrox the Second, and his son will be Zaphod Beeblebrox the First, who is Zaphod himself."

"So Zaphod," asked Fenchurch, "will become his own great-great-grandfather?"

"Correct. And that will create a causality loop, a paradox that allows Zaphod to still exist. If he doesn't exist, then he can't go back in time to become his own great-great-grandfather. So the Universe has to allow Zaphod to exist, even without being born, otherwise the whole thing would be a cock up."

"Exactly," said Ford. "We're giving the space-time continuum the finger, and it's gotta take it and like it."

Fenchurch sighed and settled back to her reading. "I'll let you lot worry about it."

The door hissed open and Zaphod swaggered onto the bridge. His faces had a very salacious grin on them, a grin he had been practicing all the way back to the ship. "Well, mission accomplished."

"What took you so long?" Ford called out as he poured himself a drink.

"Hey, the two heads threw her off a bit, but I got the job done."

Trillian folded her arms. "Congratulations. And you're sure she's pregnant?"

"As pregnant as it gets," said Zaphod. "I had the 'accident' with the contraceptive, just like you planned."

"Fine. Then let's get back to our own time. The longer we stay here, the more we risk causing more damage than we already have."

"Hey, I got a better idea. What say we hang around here for a while? Nobody's ever heard of me here. I'd get re-elected for sure."

"Zaphod," said Trillian, "do I have to remind you that you never wanted to be President in the first place? Why are you trying so hard to get re-elected?"

"Because I can't lose," yelled Zaphod. "Not to a dead guy. My ego can't take it. I'm a very sensitive guy."

"No, you're not," said Ford.

"Well, this could turn me into one."

"Which would be a bad thing?"

"Hey, I'm a very delicately balanced mass of personality flaws. You take one out, and it all falls apart."

"Well, I'm not staying in this Zarquon-forsaken time period for the sake of your ego."

"Look," said Fenchurch suddenly from the couch. "I've been reading up on this. I have a solution."

Zaphod Beeblebrox waved to the Galaxy. Not literally, of course. Zaphod waved to the Tri-D camera that broadcast it to the trillions of people watching all over the Galaxy.

"Hi," said Zaphod as applause washed over him.

The applause wasn't actually there, either, merely a ceremonial recording played in the background to give the occasion some pomp and circumstance.
Zaphod stood on a ceremonial podium in the Presidential Bunker on the planet Smada Salgoud, the eart of the Imperial Galactic Government. A government spider waited on the podium, holding a yellow sash. The spider felt irritation with how long the ceremony was taking. Usually, the appointment of a new President of the Galaxy took only a minute, the amount of time required to pull the sash over the President's neck. Even with the new President's two necks, it shouldn't take more than five minutes. No speech was required during the appointment. In fact, a speech was greatly discouraged, since Tri-D viewers had notoriously short attention spans.

Most Presidents did all their ceremonial speeches at the ceremonial party after the appointment, at which time they ceremonially got extremely drunk. That portion of the appointment always made extremely good Tri-D, especially when it came to Zaphod Beeblebrox. His first ceremonial appointment party had violated four hundred and eighty-one federal laws in the first hour.

Zaphod knew all this, which was why he had spent the last ten minutes waving and saying "hi." He despised government spiders.

Arthur and Fenchurch watched all this on the Tri-D in the Heart of Gold.

"Well," said Arthur, "that was easy."

"Yes," said Fenchurch. "I thought it might be. After all, if saving all life in the Universe doesn't earn back some goodwill, I don't know what would."

"Still not pleased about letting him get all the credit. I'm the one who killed Paradox."

"And erased Zaphod's birthday." Fenchurch patted his arm. "Let it go, Arthur."

Trillian walked in carrying a suitcase. "Well, it's time to disembark. Now that the government's taking back the Heart of Gold, where will you two be heading?"

"Home," said Arthur. "To Earth. You should come with us."

"Thank you, no. Now that I've seen what's out there, I can't go back to living on one planet again. There's an entire Galaxy out there. I plan to see it all. Might even try my hand at Tri-D reporting myself. They pay you to travel and Zaphod always said I had the looks for it."

Arthur and Fenchurch said their good-byes and hitched their way onto a starship bound for the Western Arm of the Galaxy. On the way, Arthur couldn't help thinking this could be his last journey through the Galaxy. He might never leave Earth again.

Arthur was profoundly grateful.

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