Muller closed the door. "I guess it's yours," he admitted. "Now that you're head engineer here, Mr. Tremaine, the cabin is automatically yours. Take over. And get that junk in the fuel locker cleaned out--except enough to keep your helpers going. They'll need it, and we'll need their work." "I'll clean out his stuff at the same time," I said. "I don't want any part of it." He smiled then, just as Eve came down with Bullard and Pietro. The fat cook was sobered, but already beginning to fill with his own importance. I caught snatches as they began to discuss Bullard's knowledge of growing things. It was enough to know that we'd all live, though it might be tough for a while. Then Muller gestured upwards. "You've got a reduced staff, Dr. Pietro. Do you intend going on to Saturn?" "We'll go on," Pietro decided. And Muller nodded. They turned and headed upwards. I stood staring at my engines. One of them was a touch out of phase and I went over and corrected it. They'd be mine for over two years--and after that, I'd be back on the lists. Eve came over beside me, and studied them with me. Finally she sighed softly. "I guess I can see why you feel that way about them, Paul," she said. "And I'll be coming down to look at them. But right now, Bullard's too busy to cook, and everyone's going to be hungry when they find we're saved." I chuckled, and felt the relief wash over me finally. I dropped my hand from the control and caught hers--a nice, friendly hand. But at the entrance I stopped and looked back toward the cabin where Wilcox lay. I could just make out the second movement of the Ninth beginning. I never could stand the cheap blatancy of Hohmann's conducting. * * * * *