"U. C. Watson?" "No, Shirley, I don't see anything exactly galaxy-shattering." "No, I mean your initials: U. C.. I was just wondering what they stood for - that's all." "We may have an army of ravening Pseudobears chasing us, Combes. Is this really the right time? Anyway, shouldn't the Great Detective be able to deduce little details like that?" "Well, if we're just about to get eaten, you may as well answer the question now. Not much point in saving it for later." "I still can't believe you holo-engineered all those stories about yourself and then pretended that I was the author! I mean: 'The Adventure of the Blue Carbon-based Lifeform'? What kind of title is that?" "You could try keeping your voice down... And, in case you haven't noticed, Pseudobears are blue, so it has turned out to be rather apt." "My raygun's better than yours, so they'll eat you first. And I told you: I wrote the book on Pseudobears, so don't-" "U. C.?" "Ursula." "Ursula what?" "It's not important. I never use it." "You use the initial..." "I just don't much care for the name - that's all." "Ursula, at this point in my illustrious career, it seems rather probable that I shall have very few further opportunities to embarrass you! For friendship's sake?" "Well..." "Go on!" "C-Catatonia. There's only one 'C'. I just develop a slight speech impediment, whenever I say that. I think my parents thought C-Catatonia was the name of a Greek goddess. That's what they told me, anyway." "Did you catch that, Tamora? Good. You can send the SpaceMarines in, now, if you'd be so kind." "Who are you talking to?" "Your publisher." "My pub- ? Oh, you mean yours." "Cheer up, Watson. We are about to be rescued. If you're nice and you don't try to vaporise me, or anything like that, I may tell you what Tamora's real name is!"