I-330 . I want her every minute, every second, to be with me, with no one else. All that I wrote about Unanimity is of no value; it is not what I want; I have a desire to cross it out, to tear it to pieces and throw it away. For I know (be it a sacrilege, yet it is the truth), that a glorious Day is possible only with her and only then when we are side by side, shoulder to shoulder. Without her the Sun of tomorrow will appear to me only as a little circle cut out of a tin sheet, and the sky a sheet of tin painted blue, and I myself … I snatched the telephone receiver.
“ I-330 , are you there?”
“Yes, it is I. Why so late?”
“Perhaps not too late yet. I want to ask you … I want you to be with me tomorrow—dear!”
“Dear” I said in a very low voice. And for some reason a thing I saw this morning at the docks flashed through my mind: just for fun someone put a watch under the hundred-ton sledgehammer. … A swing, a breath of wind in the face and the silent hundred-ton, knife-like weight on the breakable watch. …
A silence. I thought I heard someone’s whisper in I-330 ’s room. Then her voice:
“No, I cannot. Of course you understand that I myself. … No, I cannot. ‘Why?’ You shall see tomorrow.”
Night.