Went to bed at 3 AM; they woke us at 11. We float to the first control post — the telegraph is chattering and a long snake of radiogram tape with new work assignments drifts about. Without breakfast we rush to dismount the MKF camera, freeing the porthole for “Piramig,” load it, synchronize, prepare Delta and the documentation. We barely made it in time.

I feel my health deteriorating. As they say, I’m getting derailed. And that’s frightening — you can come apart. My eyes feel as if they’re swollen.

I remember my son asking me: “Who’s stronger — truth or lies?” It was hard to answer. Indeed, who is stronger? Lies are cunning, come in many forms: from cowardice, ignorance, malice, greed, revenge. They unite people, but not into a team bound by a noble goal — rather into all sorts of cliques. They’re more accessible, more understandable in their payoff, and therefore often stronger than truth. Truth calls for a struggle for what is right, and its achievement can exceed a human lifetime. There are no quick successes and no guarantees of well-being. There is only the awareness of the significance of one’s life, understanding of its meaning, service to people.

Truth is aimed at the future; lies aim for the moment. That’s why truth is unchanging, while lies constantly change form and content. On Egyptian stelae in the time of Tutankhamun, the name of the Sun — “Ra” — was carved in stone. New times came and they chiseled the god off the stone, erased the name of the Sun. Centuries passed, and scholars of the last century still managed to read that the obliterated word was “Ra.” Truth is immutable and shines through even across the thickness of ages.