"But why can't we pack on some power and get going somewhere?"
"Because this is a lifeship and not an interstellar spacecraft. I told
you that before. D'ye expect a lifeship to be as big as the carrier?"
"Don't be an imbecile."
Norton towered over Andrews. "Don't be too bright, Andrews. Ships don't
founder once in a green-striped moon. The function of a lifeship is
to protect the customers until help can arrive. Our storage bank held
enough quick-power to counteract the speed of the lifeship, with a
safety factor. We've a small accumulator cell for temporary storage. It
ain't pheasant under glass and brandy, but we'll neither starve nor die
of asphyxiation. We're alive and healthy. So just wait it out. I told
you that, too."
"I don't like it."
"Do I sound as though I did?"
"You seem to," Alice said reproachfully.
Norton gave her a bland smile. "I didn't intend to imply that I was
in love with this clambake. Sure, it's a rough situation, but there's
little point in looking at the black side."
"How long will this take?" she asked.
"Maybe a couple of days," he said easily. "Maybe as long as a week.
Maybe even more. But we'll be all right."
"At a hundred dollars per hour," sneered Andrews.
"It ain't hay."
Andrews pulled a long pale cigar out and lit it with a flourish.
"Norton, tell you what _I_ think of a hundred dollars per hour. I'll
take that week you mentioned as an outside limit and if you can do
something to get us home before that date, I'll pay you one thousand
dollars for every hour under that week."
"Nuts!"
* * * * *
Andrews said firmly, "Miss Hemingway, witness this, please. Do
something brilliant right this moment, Norton, and you'll collect seven
times twenty-four times one thousand dollars. Now that's what I call
not-hay."
Norton growled angrily, "If there was anything I could do, I'd take you
up on that."
"There probably is, if you'd only try to think."
"I'm the space pilot," Norton pointed out. "And I'm telling you there
is nothing we can do about it."
"All right. Forget it. Let's have something to eat."
"We don't eat for an hour, Andrews."
Charles Andrews puffed on his cigar. "Why not?" he asked softly.
"Because we've got to conserve. It's in the book of rules."
"Rules are made to be broken."
"Not space rules. And I'm still skipper, you know."
"No matter how--" Andrews was going to say "incompetent" but he stopped
short as Norton got lazily up out of his chair and came forward.
Andrews realized he could push Norton just so far, then the pilot would
lose his laziness and begin getting violent. Andrews could not stand up
to violence. He was not big enough. He was not young enough.
Alice said calmly, "Stop it, both of you! You'll just make trouble for
all of us."