text_original: Space had taken care of its own. The air in _The Luck_ was growing foul and the food was gone. Death hung in the fetid atmosphere of the tiny control room.
text_transcription: SPACE HAD TAKEN CARE OF ITS OWN THE AIR IN THE LUCK WAS GROWING FOUL AND THE FOOD WAS GONE DEATH HUNG IN THE FETID ATMOSPHERE OF THE TINY CONTROL ROOM
phonemes: spˈeɪs hæd tˈeɪkən kˈɛɹ ʌv ɪts ˈoʊn. ðɪ ˈɛɹ ɪnðə lˈʌk wʌz ɡɹˈoʊɪŋ fˈaʊl ænd ðə fˈuːd wʌz ɡˈɔn. dˈɛθ hˈʌŋ ɪnðə fˈɛɾɪd ˈætməsfˌɪɹ ʌvðə tˈaɪni kəntɹˈoʊl ɹˈuːm.