Krylov said that he knew Diavilev was overwhelmed, that he should rest before he completed the final figures. He clapped Diavilev on the shoulder and, before leaving, gave him the name of the target area. Accuracy, after all, was not so important. If the moonlet hit within a few hundred miles that would be enough.
Krylov went off and Diavilev was alone.
The light of the room was electric and undying. There was no blessed darkness to come. Diavilev sat in the glare until he could not endure it, and then found relief at the screen. With the Universe spread out before him, Diavilev made his decision.
For out of the crumbling insanity, up from the measureless ignorance which was his home, his nation, and his time, Diavilev had risen into the only peace and order he had ever known. There down below him was the beautiful Earth and off to his right was the Moon, and above him there was nothing for ever and ever, nothing on out to infinity, the utter open nothing of deep space. He could never go back to the great sickness below. He realized that with great clarity, and a deep calm peace came over him. The decision was simple. To everything there is an end.
He thought about it for a long while, and then he smiled and it was done.
There was very little time. In the few moments that there were he went to the telescope. Maybe after all, with no atmosphere to hinder, he could really see the canals on Mars....
Pyotr Diavilev handed in his figures. The blasting was done in the daytime, so that there was little chance of it being seen from Earth. Bit by bit, the moonlet slowed. After a while there was only one more bomb to go.
With Krylov, in the waning moments, Diavilev rode out with the timing equipment. In one of the small, light shuttle craft they went from the station to the main rocket from Earth, which was following the moonlet along its shortening curve. There was one more hour.
"Very soon now, eh?" smiled Krylov, looking quite deep into Diavilev's eyes.