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Hundred Soyuz paramilitary. One of the names had been the Minister of Finance, David Davidovich Milstein's, of course, but then Milstein's name had turned up on almost everyone's list. |
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The men were staring at him. What had he been saying? Oh, yes. About Soyuz. He caressed the eight rows of ribbons on his chest and the gold stripes of an admiral of the Russian Fleet on his sleeves. Just see what I have done for the motherland, you layabouts, he thought. Can any of you say the same? |
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He began again, enunciating carefully. "You all have familieswives, children, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters. Consider carefully, comrades. Soyuz is Russia and Russia is Soyuz." He paused, vaguely confused about what to say next. The faces before him gave him no clue. "Above all else, the Movement . . . " He paused again, then mumbled: "Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty. There is no greater virtue than loyalty, young Comrades. And betrayal is the greatest, most filthy crime. Filthy." |
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The sound of his voice echoed in his ears. For a full, horrible minute he looked from one blank face to another. Why did they send me? I am not a speech maker, I am a warrior. These spoiled young menthey belong to another generation. Again he felt hot tears in his eyes, and he turned back toward the window for a moment to regain his composure. |
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The young naval officers regarded one another warily, their faces reflecting various reactions, from contemptuous amusement to total incomprehension. |
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Suddenly Aleyev's words were tumbling out in a torrent, and he was drunkenly weeping. "All that I believe has been ground into the dust. I have spent my life in the service of the Supreme Soviet, of Great Russia, and I have been told now that it was for nothingless than nothing. I do not intend to let it end this way." |
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The faces before him were expressionless; some appeared embarrassed. No one spoke, no one asked a question. Kon- |
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