Zaphod left the controls for Ford to figure out, and lurched over to...

Zaphod left the controls for Ford to figure out, and lurched over to Arthur.
"Look, Earthman," he said angrily, "you've got a job to do, right? The Question to the Ultimate Answer, right?"
"What, that thing?" said Arthur, "I thought we'd forgotten about that."
"Not me, baby. Like the mice said, it's worth a lot of money in the right quarters. And it's all locked up in that head thing of yours."
"Yes but ..."
"But nothing! Think about it. The Meaning of Life! We get our fingers on that we can hold every shrink in the Galaxy up to ransom, and that's worth a bundle. I owe mine a mint."
Arthur took a deep breath without much enthusiasm.
"Alright," he said, "but where do we start? How should I know? They say the Ultimate Answer or whatever is Forty-two, how am I supposed to know what the question is? It could be anything. I mean, what's six times seven?"
Zaphod looked at him hard for a moment. Then his eyes blazed with excitement.
"Forty-two!" he cried.
Arthur wiped his palm across his forehead.
"Yes," he said patiently, "I know that."
Zaphod's faces fell.
"I'm just saying that the question could be anything at all," said Arthur, "and I don't see how I am meant to know.