here was nothing else he could do.

Cooking was a relief, in a way. By the time Eve and I had scrubbed all
the pots into what she considered proper order, located some of the
food lockers, and prepared and served a couple of meals, we'd evolved
a smooth system that settled into a routine with just enough work to
help keep our minds off the dwindling air in the tanks. In anything
like a kitchen, she lost most of her mannish pose and turned into a
live, efficient woman. And she could cook.

"First thing I learned," she told me. "I grew up in a kitchen. I guess
I'd never have turned to photography if my kid brother hadn't been
using our sink for his darkroom."

Wilcox brought her a bottle of his wine to celebrate her first dinner.
He seemed to want to stick around, but she chased him off after the
first drink. We saved half the bottle to make a sauce the next day.

It never got made. Muller called a council of war, and his face was
pinched and old. He was leaning on Jenny as Eve and I came into the
mess hall; oddly, she seemed to be trying to buck him up. He got down
to the facts as soon as all of us were together.

"Our oxygen tanks are empty," he announced. "They shouldn't be--but
they are. Someone must have sabotaged them before the plants were
poisoned--and done it so the dials don't show it. I just found it out
when the automatic switch to a new tank failed to work. We now have
the air in the ship, and no more. Dr. Napier and I have figured that
this will keep us all alive with the help of the plants for no more
than fifteen days. I am open to any suggestions!"

* * * * *

There was silence after that, while it soaked in. Then it was broken
by a thin scream from Phil Riggs. He slumped into a seat and buried
his head in his hands. Pietro put a hand on the man's thin shoulders,
"Captain Muller--"

"Kill 'em!" It was Grundy's voice, bellowing sharply. "Let'em breathe
space! They got us into it! We can make out with the plants left! It's
our ship!"

Muller had walked forward. Now his fist lashed out, and Grundy
crumpled. He lay still for a second, then got to his feet unsteadily.
Jenny screamed, but Muller moved steadily back to his former place
without looking at the mate. Grundy hesitated, fumbled in his pocket
for something, and swallowed it.

"Captain, sir!" His voice was lower this time.

"Yes, Mr. Grundy?"

"How many of us can live off the plants?"

"Ten--perhaps eleve