Not very good stars

    "To be or not to be — this is a monologue," shouted Arthur, and immediately wished he hadn't. Now turn over, back, up and nwod until you reach page 16.

    "It sure as hell ain't a solilo-quy," said Theodora, who proved to be American. "But it's a very important question."

    "I was thinking about it," said Arthur, "when I was up in that tree talking to Reason. It seems like a very long time ago."

    "Five hours, forty-six minutes," said Theodora. Arthur embraced her, pitifully. "I'm so glad you said that," he said. "I thought you would say 'It was on page 10'. We haven't had any time before. Or space."

    There was space now. It was black, and there were holes in it. Arthur had never noticed before how black space was. He had never been in a spaceship before, either.

    "I suppose those things are supposed to be stars," he said. "They're not very good."

    "Of course them's stars," asserted Mr T (for "Tambourine", on account of the jangling, and his predilection for gospel music). "They sure ain't feet, anyway."

    "They look like holes to me," said Arthur.

    "The engine's gonna blow," reminded Mr T.

    "Don't give him the satisfaction," Arthur said, slowly. "He's up there, looking through one of those holes." Mr T picked him up by the head, rather uncomfortably, leading Arthur to suspect that he had blasphemed. Theodora looked worried; there wasn't room for God as well as Reason.