"Father." He was crying now, ashamed.
"Please, Leon." His throat was thick. "You must be strong now. I need you to be strong….. There is a chance I will not die." His son left the room.
Leopold Station. He sat with the button in front of him, on a console shelf amidst computers. He studied its scopes and readouts carefully: eight minutes.
He was glad that it was far away. It did not seem real. Almost—-he was thinking in Russian now—-he was not afraid. Perhaps he could reach the tube and down into the shelter in time. If that would help. I MUST CONCENTRATE. He breathed deeply, and watched the counter tick away his life. Seven minutes. Six.
He heard a sound behind him. At that moment the image on one of the screens shifted slightly.
"Turn around Dobrynin."
He whirled, startled, then returned quickly to the console, made the necessary adjustments. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Putting an end to your brave little noise." Dobrynin said nothing. "This gun fires nerve pellets as well as the other, Nicholai. I can paralyze you without killing you." Pecci's voice was calm, but there was fear beneath it.
"And I can press this button and kill us both. And if I die, how will you survive? Doctor Stein says the planet will not last another hour; do you not feel the quakes? You will perish along with it." As he spoke he watched and moved his hands across the console, all the while fighting the bitter urge to detonate now: too soon.
"You lie."