Arthur awoke to the sound of argument and went to the bridge. Ford was waving his arms about.
"You're crazy, Zaphod," he was saying, "Magrathea is a myth, a fairy story, it's what parents tell their kids about at night if they want them to grow up to become economists, it's ..."
"And that's what we are currently in orbit around," insisted Zaphod.
"Look, I can't help what you may personally be in orbit around," said Ford, "but this ship ..."
"Computer!" shouted Zaphod.
"Oh no ..."
"Hi there! This is Eddie your shipboard computer, and I'm feeling just great guys, and I know I'm just going to get a bundle of kicks out of any programme you care to run through me."
Arthur looked inquiringly at Trillian. She motioned him to come on in but keep quiet.
"Computer," said Zaphod, "tell us again what our present trajectory is."
"A real pleasure feller," it burbled, "we are currently in orbit at an altitude of three hundred miles around the legendary planet of Magrathea."
"Proving nothing," said Ford. "I wouldn't trust that computer to speak my weight."
"I can do that for you, sure," enthused the computer, punching out more tickertape. "I can even work out you personality problems to ten decimal places if it will help."