Ford stared at him, aghast. Trillian had turned white.
‘Somebody did that to you?’ whispered Ford.
‘Yeah.’
‘But have you any idea who? Or why?’
‘Why? I can only guess. But I do know who the bastard was.’
‘You know? How do you know?’
‘Because they left  their  initials  burnt  into  the  cauterized synapses. They left them there for me to see.’
Ford stared at him in horror and felt his skin begin to crawl.
‘Initials? Burnt into your brain?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Well, what were they, for God’s sake?’
Zaphod looked at him in silence  again  for  a  moment.  Then  he looked away.
‘Z.B.,’ he said.