"Atomic missiles launched from this base may be guided exactly to any point on the surface of the Earth that we select, yet the station itself represents so small and distinct a target as to be virtually invulnerable. Russia, my friend, need fear no country on Earth. Not," he added quickly, "that she ever did, of course."
Diavilev, with the inbred habit of years, gave his congratulations. Krylov stood looking at him closely, half-smiling, rubbing again at his cheek. There was something infinitely chilling in the moment, but Diavilev was able to smile back.
"This station has been in existence," said Krylov, "for slightly more than a week. There are not fifty people in the entire world who know of it. You have become one. You are therefore most important."
Diavilev was becoming nervous.
"But you are important," Krylov went on slowly, "for other reasons. To be exact, you are perhaps as important at this moment as any man who ever lived."
Diavilev, dazed, struggled to digest that while Krylov held him with his eyes and the three other men spoke lowly among themselves.
"I am saying all this to impress upon you the vastness of the work with which you have been entrusted. I want you to understand clearly that the accuracy of your work could mean the collapse of all our enemies, of the entire capitalistic empire. Therefore you will be accurate."
There was a fixity to Krylov's face which was unsettling. Diavilev waited, uneasy and bewildered. The dark man smiled.
"You are a Russian," he stated powerfully. "We know that you will do your best."
"Of course," Diavilev said.