Doppelganger (39 page)

“Admiral!” said Fedorov with alarm, quickly taking Volsky’s arm to steady him. Yet those thick legs could not hold him, and he fell to the deck.

Orlov shouted, and two Yeomen ran quickly to render assistance. “Call the Doctor,” he said. “Better yet, go and fetch a stretcher and we will take him to sick bay ourselves.”

Volsky's eyes were open, yet he said nothing, clearly distressed by a severe attack of what seemed like vertigo. The lights above him, the milky green glow of the radar and combat stations, all blended with the faces of the men as they leaned over him, and he closed his eyes to fight off the nausea. As he did so, he had the distinct feeling that he had lived through something like this before, and a pulse of alarm that warned him of grave danger, not for himself, but for the ship.

No, dear god, not now, thought Fedorov. This wasn’t supposed to happen yet! It was many days before the Admiral collapsed like this, and by that time, Karpov had already been convinced that they had shifted to the past. Yet now, in this critical moment, command of the most powerful ship in the world would suddenly fall to the Captain, and what might he do?

“Careful men,” said Karpov. “Easy with him through that hatch.” He looked at his navigator now, seeing a look on his face of shock and distress. “You wish to join him, Fedorov? Because this nonsense you’ve been spouting here is just this far from crazy.”

Karpov held up a thumb and finger, an inch apart. He stood tall, moving towards the Captain’s chair. “Ships that were scrapped over 70 years ago do not miraculously re-float themselves, so with your nose always in those history books, you are seeing too many goblins in the woods. As senior officer on the bridge, I will now exercise my own judgment on this matter and get some results. Mister Samsonov… prepare to fire a warning shot over the bow of those ships out there. Activate the 100mm bow gun.”

“Captain,” said Fedorov quickly. “Don’t forget the helicopter. If you fire now they might take it down!” He said anything he could to buy time, though Karpov was not happy to hear his voice again.

“I told you once, Fedorov—sit down and see to the ship’s navigation. Another word out of you and—”

“Signal on secure channel 272!” said Nikolin suddenly. “He had been watching the growing tension and conflict on the bridge, and with an odd inner feeling of fear, believing he had sat in this chair before and felt the same dark thing. There was something about Fedorov now… he seemed different. For him to stand up like this and engage the senior officers, particularly in the face of the Captain’s obvious anger and displeasure, was most unusual. He remembered the conversation they had the previous night, and how he had warned Fedorov to be careful around Karpov, but the Navigator seemed intent on something here. That message he had suggested was very strange, but here was a response!

“What is it Nikolin, quickly please.” Karpov had one eye on Fedorov, his head slightly inclined as he listened.

“It reads back just what Fedorov said, sir. ‘Roger Geronimo. Ready on fleet protocol one, HMS
Invincible
standing by—over.”

“HMS
Invincible
? That was one of their aircraft carriers. Yes? Now we’re getting somewhere.”

 Karpov rubbed his hands together.

Part XII

The Second Coming

“History never repeats itself, but the Kaleidoscopic combinations of the pictured present often seem to be constructed out of the broken fragments of antique legends…. no occurrence is sole and solitary, but is merely a repetition of a thing which has happened before, and perhaps often.”

—
Mark Twain

Chapter 34

“That
will not be an aircraft carrier,” said Fedorov, realizing his position was very precarious on the bridge now after the demise of Admiral Volsky. Thankfully, Orlov had accompanied the medic carrying the Admiral to sick bay, but Karpov could be very volatile, and quite unpredictable. Nikolin’s interruption had helped just a little with the report of that signal, but soon the inevitable conflict with Karpov would have to play out, and the last time he had challenged the Captain, Karpov had him relieved.

How to avoid that, he thought? How do I engage Karpov so that he will not merely dismiss me? How to convey what is happening now in a way that might persuade him?

“Not a carrier?” said Karpov.

“It was decommissioned in 2005, sir, and sold to a Turkish company to be scrapped in 2011.”

“Then this is a new ship?”

“Not by that name sir. You and I both know there is no HMS
Invincible
currently in active service with the Royal Navy.”

“So we are receiving messages from another ghost ship here?” Karpov smiled. “Or perhaps they are still playing out their little game.”

Now Fedorov decided to take a very grave risk. He had to do something dramatic, something that would be so striking that it would arrest the inevitable escalation that Karpov would surely initiate here.

“Captain, if you take that radio call, you will be speaking with a man named Admiral John Tovey, commander of the British Home Fleet. He will likely ask to speak with Admiral Volsky, or to me.”

“To you?” The notion that the British would even know of Fedorov was preposterous. Karpov shook his head, his anger becoming disdain. “So Orlov was correct, Fedorov, and the Doctor still has work to do with you. Now it’s delusions of grandeur.”

“Take the call sir. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? They are standing by. You can finally get to the bottom of all of this.”

Karpov gave his Navigator a dismissive wave of his hand, his attention now pulled to Nikolin’s station. “Damn right,” he said, striding over to Nikolin’s side. “Get yourself back to sick bay, Fedorov. Nikolin, have them identify themselves again,” he said gruffly. “And I want it straight. Get the speaker’s name, rank, position and ship number. Send them the same information from us, and identify me as acting Captain.”

“Aye sir.” Nikolin toggled a switch and sent out a response. “Roger Geronimo, please say all again. Identity, name, rank, position, and state ship name and pennant number. This is the Russian Navy ship BCG
Sergei Kirov
, pennant number 072, presently in the Norwegian Sea south of Jan Mayen. Over.”

There was a brief pause, and a voice came back, speaking English, which Nikolin quickly translated. “This is Admiral John Tovey, Commander of Home Fleet, Royal Navy, aboard HMS
Invincible
, fleet pennant number 50.”

“Commander of the Home Fleet?” Karpov looked surprised as Nikolin listened, an odd look on his face.

 “Sir… He’s requesting to speak with Admiral Volsky… or Mister Fedorov!” He looked at Fedorov strangely, obviously as surprised to hear this as Karpov was.

“Fedorov?” Karpov turned, eyeing his Navigator with a suspicious look. “How could you know what that man would say?” He pointed at the radio set, turning to Fedorov. “How could you know his name like that? And why in the world would he be asking to speak with you, a simple minded Lieutenant in the Russian Navy?”

A moment ago he had glibly suggested Fedorov was working for the Royal Navy, yet now a thrum of real suspicion pulsed up, and he looked at Fedorov with new eyes.

“Because I personally know the man, sir,” said Fedorov quickly. “In fact, I have met with him on that very ship, HMS
Invincible
. He is exactly who he claims to be, Admiral John Tovey, Commander of the British Home Fleet. This man can identify those other two ships we’ve been monitoring. He will know the deployments of all Royal Navy ships.”

Karpov was looking at him, a hard, suspicious look now. “You know him personally? The Admiral of the British Home Fleet, is it? Leaving aside the fact that there
is
no British Home Fleet any longer, at least not that I am aware of. It’s been simply called Fleet Command, since the 1970s. Yes, Fedorov, I went to the Naval College as well, but it seems you’ve forgotten a few lessons.” He nodded his head Nikolin’s way. “Look up that pennant number. Find out what ship this really is.”

“Aye sir, keying the ship data bank now.”

“You won’t find it in our data,” said Fedorov. “And if you will meet with me in the briefing room, sir, I will tell you why.”

“Correct Captain,” said Nikolin. “No ship by that pennant number or name is correctly active in the Royal Navy.”

Now Karpov’s suspicions redoubled.

* * *

“Standby
Kirov
,” said Tovey, switching off his radio microphone and turning to the others. “Well this is one smelly kettle of fish,” he said. “They’re back alright. I recognize that young lieutenant on the line that Admiral Volsky always used as a translator—a Mister Nikolin. Yet I’m told the Admiral is presently indisposed, and the acting commander of the ship is being named as a Captain Karpov. This was the name of the officer that caused such a row aboard that ship earlier, but how could he be there now? Admiral Volsky made no mention of any planned meeting with the man.”

“Are you certain?” said Dorland.

“That was the name I was just given. Captain Vladimir Karpov.”

“Strange,” said Paul. “We were having a look at that name, as it cropped up in our research—a prominent figure in the Siberian State.”

“That’s the man,” said Tovey. “I was told he was a former officer on the Russian ship.”

“Aboard
Kirov?”
In all the rush to plan this time shift to the Azores, they had never had time to fully investigate the key officers on the ship. Paul assumed his people were running all that down, but he had been too eager to shift again, and had not been briefed.

Mack Morgan cleared his throat and spoke up now, remembering some intelligence he had collected before this meeting. “Karpov? He was en route to a meeting with Sergei Kirov in Moscow, at least according to radio intercepts my boys collected. He left Siberia a few days ago. In fact, he should be in Moscow now.”

“Well the Russians have just stated they are presently sailing in the Norwegian Sea near Jan Mayen,” said Tovey. “Could he have traveled all that distance?”

“Not likely,” said MacRae. “That would be some 3000 miles, and that’s taking the direct route up over the pole, and with no stops and fair wind. They might make it in three days, but I wouldn’t bet on it, and not with a stopover in Moscow for this meeting Mack has just mentioned.”

 “Just a moment,” said Paul, turning to Admiral Tovey. “Are we talking about the same man here? You’re saying this Siberian leader was a former officer from the Russian ship?”

“That’s what I’m told,” said Tovey. “They believe he was lost in an incident that occurred earlier. The very same incident I talked about before—in 1908. Then Admiral Volsky and that Captain Fedorov were quite distressed when they learned the man was still alive, and had apparently moved forward in time with the ship. I don’t know all the details, but they seemed convinced that the Siberian was the same man that served aboard
Kirov
. I’ve never met the man, but I’m told he’s a bit unsavory.”

“Good lord,” said Paul, thinking. “Could this be so?”

Tovey gave him a penetrating look. “What are you thinking, Professor Dorland.

Paul took a deep breath and tried to explain as best he could. “Admiral, as I explained earlier, the ship we’re presently in contact with is not the same one you last saw steaming off your bow last May. In one respect it is the same, but this is the ship that first arrived in 1941. That happened in the Norwegian Sea, just where you say this ship now claims to be sailing. So this officer, this man Karpov, he’s right there aboard
Kirov
at this very moment.”

“And how could he be there and still making headlines as he meets with Sergei Kirov?” said Mack Morgan.

Paul looked at him, a very serious expression on his face. “When this event occurred—the Paradox Hour we spoke of—one of several things could have happened. The first possibility is that the Heisenberg precursor waves could have found a way to alter the history of 2021 to try and prevent
Kirov
from shifting back, but that wasn’t very likely. It would have denied that first cause, and in our day, the ship did indeed vanish on July 28th.”

“Aye, said Morgan. “It was in the news, and we all heard it.”

“So
Kirov
was coming, and there was no way to prevent that, which means the second possibility, that the ship you last sailed with, Admiral, might simply replace it when it arrived here again—well, that isn’t very likely either. The two ships were not in the same location.”

“And the third possibility?” Tovey prodded.

“That
both
ships manage to survive the Paradox—again, very unlikely. Co-location is very rare. The theory doesn’t entirely forbid it, but it is usually factored out of any possible shift equation, and precisely because it gives rise to Paradox. Yet what we have here is a very peculiar situation, the Chaos Zone I spoke of earlier. The wave of change emanating from 1908 encountered Paradox, then split and formed two wave patterns. These are the conditions that can give rise to real anomalies. Is this is the first contact you have had with the Russians since it last vanished.”

“Correct,” said Tovey.

“Interesting… And there’s someone aboard that ship who clearly knew of your special communications arrangement—fleet protocol one…. Gentlemen, Miss Fairchild, I believe we have a situation here, something that has arisen from that Chaos Zone after the Paradox. We’re still in it now, and the waves of chaos abound all around us. Someone on the Russian ship is experiencing intense déjà vu at this moment, so much so that memories of past lived events were retained when he shifted here. And if this Vladimir Karpov is presently there aboard that ship, and also in Moscow as your Mister Morgan seems to believe, then we’ve got a real problem here. We’ve got a Doppelganger…”