The senator sputtered. "But the Martians came from our own ship." "Perhaps they did, but Mr. Zytztz here claimed the Phoebus as salvage. Before witnesses." The senator exploded. His face was red. "But ten tons of americium—" "It will be paid for," Healey said. "It's outrageous. They don't need that much to get to Mars." "I deem it necessary for their salvage operations." Mr. Zytztz shuffled up. The senator was swelling. "Mr. Zytztz is captain of the Phoebus now," Healey said pointedly. The senator glared and turned purple. "I'll have your ticket for this, you whipper-snapper," he barked at Healey, and stamped back across the gangplank. The Philipuster pulled away in charge of Captain Browne, and Admiral Healey rolled up his sleeves and went to work on the Phoebus. At ninety he wasn't ancient, but he wasn't as young as he had been, and he was soft. Nevertheless, he worked long, long hours showing the Zytztzes how to fix things. When his muscles got stiff, he worked to limber them. He got the pumps going. He himself went outside in a space-suit and welded up the hull. They tore out the damaged partitions. They replaced pipes for water and compressed air, and Healey tested and checked the communications. The Zytztzes worked tirelessly. They could do things if someone would show them how. And one day, three months later, they turned on the power and straightened the Phoebus out of her lazy end-over-end floating and took off for Mars. They reached the red planet in six weeks and landed at the spaceport. Captain Browne was already there with a load of supplies he'd brought himself on a special trip. He told Healey the money situation wasn't too good. Atompowerinc wasn't sticking out its neck yet by refusing delivery, but they were firm in asking full payment for the americium. It worried Healey a little. That is, he worried for fear that Atompowerinc would attach the Phoebus before they could get started for Gamma Velorum. But he didn't say anything about it to Mr. Zytztz. He went ahead and turned the Phoebus