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."