When the screens came to life after weeks of checking and debugging, Orlov felt the same he had each time one of the huge rockets roared to life beneath him: relief that everything came on, as scheduled. Though his life wasn't at risk the way it was every time he rode a rocket, the truth was he had never contemplated life or death as he rode into space. That wasn't what exploration or being a fighter pilot or even living from day to day was about. His reputation was more important than his life, and Orlov's only thought, ever, was that he do his best and not screw up.

The front wall of the room was covered with a world map. Images from any of the screens could be superimposed on it using a projector set in the ceiling. On the side walls were shelves of diskettes and backups, top-secret data, files, and records about governments, the military, and agencies from around the world. In the center of the back wall was a door that led to the hallway and the cryptanalysis center, security room, mess, lavatory, and exit. Doors to Orlov's and Rossky's offices were on the right and left respectively.

Standing in the heart of the Center, Orlov felt as if he were commanding a ship of the future-- one that went nowhere, yet had the ability to look down from the heavens or peer under rocks on the earth, one that could know nearly anything about almost anyone in a moment. Even when he was in outer space, with the earth turning slowly beneath him, he had never felt this omniscient. And because every government required accurate, timely intelligence, his funding and the operation of the Center had been unaffected by the chaos in many quarters of Russia. He almost understood how Czar Nicholas II must have felt, living in splendid isolation until the end came. It was easy to be in a place like this and feel cut off from the day-to-day problems of others, and Orlov made sure to pick up three or four different newspapers every day so as not to lose touch with reality.

Corporal Ivashin suddenly stood, faced the General, and snapped off a salute. He removed his headset and held it out. "General, sir," he said, "the radio room reports a private communication for you."

"Thank you," Orlov said, waving away the headset. "I'll take it in my office." He turned and headed toward the door on the far right.