Kirov Saga: Darkest Hour: Altered States - Volume II (Kirov Series) (32 page)

BOOK: Kirov Saga: Darkest Hour: Altered States - Volume II (Kirov Series)
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Volsky folded his arms, looking
at his ex-navigator, slowly nodding his head. Then he smiled. “Mister Fedorov…
Another of your missions to the heartland of Russia, is it?”

“It sounds like a job for
Sergeant Troyak, sir. I’m sure he could do it. Then we would at least know that
the history we are dealing with here will stay put for a while. As it stands,
if the nature of that stairway were to be discovered, and a man knew what he
was about, why he could go down those steps, appear in 1908 and change
everything.”

Volsky’s eyes narrowed. “Yes… he
could. He could find the man you met there, for example, Mironov, the young
Sergei Kirov, and he could kill him. What would happened then?”

“Sir? Kill Kirov? Then we get
Josef Stalin back.”

“Yes, we do. Does that mean we
also see him unite Russia under his iron fist—that these altered states will no
longer exist? Have you considered that, Fedorov?”

“Frankly I haven’t considered it,
Admiral. It never occurred to me. But killing Sergei Kirov? Somehow after
meeting the man he became, I think that would be very hard to do, sir.”

“Yes, I agree. Who in their right
mind would want to replace him with Stalin? We might re-unite our homeland. I
don’t think this Volkov character could even stand against him, but we get all
the rest with him—the detention camps, the purges, the millions dead in the
Gulags. Which world would you prefer to live in, Fedorov?”

“I see your point, sir. Yet every
coin has two sides. Suppose a man were to go down those steps and find Ivan
Volkov instead? That is how he moved in time, sir. We are certain of it now.
Volkov went down those steps, and if another man followed him down, perhaps
this Orenburg Federation would never arise? Perhaps Kirov could then unite the
country under his banner.”

“An interesting proposition.”
Volsky shook his head. “Here we stand, two fools, one old and weary, one young
and eager. Here we stand considering how we might change all modern history in
a single stroke. At the moment we have placed this ship and crew on the scales,
but I wonder if we are heavy enough to shift the balance, Fedorov. We have only
so many missiles, and while we can decide the fate of naval engagements, that
does little to determine the outcome of the land war. Yes, we still have our
special warheads, but that is a fairly radical lever on events that I would
hope I never have to use. Yet here we calmly discuss how we might do more than
every missile in our dwindling magazines with just a single bullet from
Sergeant Troyak’s rifle. It’s maddening. Kill this man and one thing happens.
Kill another man and the world spins off its rocker. How can we make such
decisions?”

“Sir… We would not have to kill
anybody,” said Fedorov. “Apprehending Volkov in 1908 would do the job well
enough, would it not?”

“Capturing him?”

“Yes, sir. We just bring him
back—a rescue mission. In fact, I can imagine he was quite disoriented after he
went down those steps. He might welcome anything that anchors him to the
reality he knew. The sight of Russian Naval Marines sent to rescue him would be
a great relief.”

“One might think so…” Volsky was
considering this deeply now. So if we remove Volkov, can we be sure this
Orenburg Federation never arises? What if another man takes Volkov’s place?”

“This we cannot know, Admiral.”

“Yes, it’s like reaching into a
dark cupboard for a cookie, and finding a rat. More meddling. The world is
shattered as it stands. Who knows what might result if we do this?”

“We do not have to decide that
now, sir. We could assemble the mission team and then see if we can get
Narva
,
or some other zeppelin. Admiral Golovko owes us a favor, does he not?”

“He does. How surprising that
these old airships could be the key to everything now.”

“Actually, I’m not surprised they
are still in use here, sir. Even in our time they were setting up the Krylo
Airship project at Omsk. Zeppelins are the perfect transportation solution for
the Siberian heartland. They can go where no road or rail can, and with good
speed. Our modern designs will make 280kph.”

Volsky considered. “I have
arranged a meeting with the British at the Faeroes. We must get ready to depart
in a few days, but I would like to linger here if we attempt this operation. I
don’t know what good it would do, but I would feel better seeing to this before
I meet with the British again.”

“I understand, sir.”

“And what about Karpov?”

Fedorov stumbled in his thinking
a bit. Karpov… Another rogue was at large in the history as well. It wasn’t
just Volkov they had to worry about.

“I see that gives you pause,”
said Volsky, “Yes, what about Karpov?
Admiral
Karpov, if your
intelligence is now correct. He has zeppelins too. I think we need to know more
about the dangers such a mission might face. That said, I think we must also
give it every consideration. Select the mission team, and have Mister Nikolin
see if he can reach Admiral Golovko. I will also have to request a brief delay
with the British. In the meantime, we have a great deal to discuss.”

 

* * *

 

The
old “B-Series”
zeppelins built by the Russians were long gone. They had all crashed into
mountains, failed in storms, or simply run afoul of power lines to catch fire.
One had its ballast tanks sheared off an ascended so rapidly that it’s
inflation bags exploded. Another fell prey to simple incompetence when its
service crew forgot to remove the caps from the exhaust valves, which resulted
in a rupture of the hull.

In their place, however, the much
more successful “C-Series” had corrected many of the problems pioneered in
earlier decades. They successfully converted to helium lifting gas,
incorporated the new Duralumin frames and Vulcan self-sealing gas bags, and
proved remarkably durable. But there were only five ships left in Soviet
Russia. Three were serving on the Black Sea Flotilla,
Odessa
,
Sevastopol
and
Rostov
. Only two remained in service in the north,
Narva
, and
Riga
, and the latter was far to the south in the Baltic Military
District.


Narva
will have to do,
Mister Fedorov. Admiral Golovko says it is a solid ship, and one of the biggest
in the fleet. It is as big as the old German
Hindenburg
class zeppelins,
200,000 cubic meter gas capacity and a useful lift of over 232,000 kilograms.”
He was reading from notes he had taken. “Half of that capacity is in the guns
they have mounted on the damn thing—recoilless rifles! Golovko says each one
has 200 rounds. Those guns and other equipment leave you about 120,000
kilograms for your mission lift.”

“That will be sufficient, sir.”
Fedorov was excited at the prospect of another mission, though he had more than
a few worries about it.

“Yes, these airships were
designed as cargo lifters and troop transports, among other duties. You can
carry a full battalion.”

“I think a few platoons is all we
have in the Marine contingent, though Karpov was running basic crewmen through
combat training and trying to make naval infantry of them.”

“I think our Marines will have to
do. I assume Troyak will lead the mission?”

“Both Troyak and Zykov have been
to the location, sir. That was in 1942, but it should be much the same in this
year. In fact, its basic structure was the same from 1908 to modern times,
hiding that fissure in time for decades.”

“I wonder if the innkeeper knew
about it?” Volsky was curious.

“I met his daughter when I was
there, sir. She said there were stories about that stairwell, and that they
were never allowed to play there. It was often sealed off and shunned, and for
good reason. I can imagine that inn might have lost more than one visitor on
that back stairway.”

“Amazing to think of such a
thing.” The Admiral shook his head.

“One other thing, sir. It’s about
Orlov.”

“Orlov? What’s the problem?”

“He heard about the mission from
one of the Marines and he has asked if he can join the team.”

“What do you think, Fedorov? Is
this risky? After all, we never quite got to the bottom of his disappearance
from the ship.”

“I know that, sir. It’s just that
he’s been going from one duty to the next, and his mood has been souring. I
think he still feels diminished and discarded in many ways. After all, he was
Chief of Operations.”

“He still is. You restored his
rank and position and I let that stand.”

“I know, sir. But his heart is no
longer in it, if that makes any sense, and he’s been drinking again. He knows
he doesn’t really have any part in the real decisions these days. His morale
has obviously suffered.”

Well… I suppose Troyak can keep
him in line if we do approve this request. I will leave this decision to you,
Fedorov. You are ship’s Captain now.” The Admiral suddenly had a question.

“Fedorov, I hope you are not
thinking of joining this mission.”

“I considered it, sir, but as you
say, I am the Captain of this ship, and proud of it. My duty is here.”

“Agreed,” said Volsky. “Troyak is
the sort we need for this mission, and in many ways Orlov too. Have you set the
objectives?

“Get to the site, secure the inn,
and report back. At that time, if the situation is favorable, we can give the
order for the descent.”

“The descent—oh yes, you mean
that trip down those stairs. This is very risky, Fedorov.”

“I know, sir. Many things could
make that mission impossible. Troyak—and he’s the only man I would trust with
this—well he could arrive before Volkov, or well after. It could take time to
find him, and we don’t know how much time will transpire here while that is
going on.”

“What do you mean?”

“Time seems to pass differently
at both ends of that stairway. When I went down those stairs I was only there a
few minutes, but Troyak said I was gone for over an hour from their
perspective. Suppose it takes Troyak days to locate Volkov. That could mean the
team we leave at the top would have to hold that location secure for weeks.”

“That could be a problem.”

“Yes sir. That zeppelin is not
very inconspicuous. The mission is likely to be discovered soon after the team
arrives on site.”

“And what will you find there,
Fedorov?”

“That remains to be seen. It is
likely that station will be little used. From what I have been able to
determine the Trans-Siberian rail is not well served these days.”

“It seems this mission is best
suited for a quick in and out.”

“I know, sir. That may end up
being our only option. What we could do is see if Troyak can do a reconnaissance
down those stairs, and then report back on the general situation he finds there.
We know he is likely to arrive sometime after 7:14 in the morning on the 30th
of June, 1908.”

“How can you know this?”

“That is the time of the Tunguska
impact, Admiral, and I believe that is what caused this fissure in time. I
discussed this with Director Kamenski and he agrees. Whatever caused that
detonation, it had some exotic material in it that breaches time, particularly
in a nuclear environment.”

“So you think Troyak can go
there, have a quick look around and then scoot back up? What if he finds
himself having breakfast with Mironov again? Something tells me finding Volkov
will not be so easy as we might hope. My inclination is to simply destroy the
inn and be done with it.”

“Then we lose any option of
reversing what Volkov did.”

“True, but sometimes you must
close a door in life, Fedorov. Close the breach and end the matter. Then we
play with the hand we have been dealt, and no one goes back to 1908 again. That
seems to be a very critical juncture in the history. Karpov sinks a few of
Admiral Togo’s old ships, and we lose Vladivostok and all the eastern
provinces. You are there for just a few minutes and look what has happened!
Then Volkov… No. That stairway is dangerous, and I think it must be destroyed,
just as you first said.”

“We can do that, but we may not
be able to close the time breach, sir. All we will be doing is destroying
access to it. That stairway just happens to be precisely positioned along the
line of the breach, right down to the number of steps and the exact angle of
ascent or descent. It was just happenstance, but there it is. Kamenski says
this is not the only instance. There are others, but that was all I could get
out of him. We may be able to close the easy access to this one, unless someone
can rebuild that inn exactly as it was, in exactly the same place. This is why
I’m sending along a good demolition squad. I think we’ll have to blow that inn
to a million pieces. That way, putting the puzzle back together again may be
next to impossible.”

“Fedorov… I know you would dearly
love to see Troyak get hold of Volkov by the ear and drag him here, but it may
not be possible. I will keep the option open pending the mission team’s initial
report. Then we will decide. For now, however, this mission is a search and
destroy.”

“I understand, sir.” Fedorov had
a grave expression on his face, fully appreciating the danger ahead.

 

Chapter 29

 

August 1, 1940

 

Fedorov
was standing on
the weather bridge, and he could not resist the urge to wave the mission on,
raising his arm to the massive hulk of the zeppelin overhead as it slowly
ascended, pumping his fist. They were on their way.

The ship had returned at high
speed to Severomorsk, and the
Narva
was waiting there for them, hovering
over the scene and tethered to a large mooring tower. It was every bit as big
as the ship, nearly as long and much wider abeam, its shadow darkening the
harbor as it waited. Admiral Golovko had been elated by the news that
Kirov
had done the job and forced the Germans to pay for their incursion.

“I do not know how you managed
it,” he said gratefully, “but we are in your debt.
Narva
is yours, and
any other resource we can provide.”

Sergeant Troyak had selected the
men and established three teams. He would lead the first assault team, and for
this he chose his toughest and most experienced Marines. Zykov would lead the
support and holding team, reinforcing the position after Troyak gained entry.
The third team would remain as a reserve aboard the
Narva
, the
extraction and support group, and it would be led by Operations Chief Orlov.
There were seven men in each group from the Marine detachment, including Orlov.

“How do you feel about the
mission,” Fedorov had asked.

“Back to Siberia, sir. It will
feel like home.”
Kandemir
Troyak, was a Siberian Eskimo from the Chukchi Peninsula in the far east. He
was a short, broad shouldered man, very stocky, yet all muscle and all
business, particularly with an assault rifle in his hands. Fedorov recalled how
easily Troyak had lifted that oil barrel for the train when it was needed at
the coaling car, and how he had backed down the NKVD Lieutenant and his squad
with the sheer force of his intimidating presence. His organization and conduct
of the rescue mission to the Caspian had been exemplary. Troyak led the assault
that held off a full regiment of a German Panzer division while they
desperately searched for Orlov, and that was no small accomplishment. He had
every faith in the rock-like Sergeant, and knew he could count on him.

“There
is one thing I need you to know, Troyak. We have made no general announcement
to the men, but as mission leader I must tell you that we now know Captain
Karpov has survived. He must have been thrown clear of the ship and shifted
forward to 1940 in our wake. The strange thing is this—we think he fell out of
the shift before we appeared here, and so he arrived earlier in time. We aren’t
sure exactly when, but his name first appears in 1938.”

Troyak
listened, his eyes registering surprise, but saying nothing.

“The
thing is this, Sergeant. Karpov has wormed his way into a position of authority
in the Siberian Free State. He is now commander of the Siberian Aero Corps, and
we have learned they have at least eight zeppelins.”

He
explained the flight plan was to cross the White Sea and stop briefly at Port
Dikson on the Kara Sea to drop off mail, supplies, and take on fresh water and
diesel fuel. Then they would vanish into the sprawling wilderness of Siberia,
planning to approach Ilanskiy from the north. He wanted them to take the
stealthiest approach possible, and also loaded portable jamming equipment just
in case any of the Siberian zeppelins had mounted radar.

Chief
Byko also suggested they use an Oko Panel radar set connected to a portable
receiver. They could mount it easily on the bottom of the main gondola, and it
could detect any hostile aircraft long before they would become a potential
threat. Byko also nudged Fedorov with a wink and told him he could sharpen the
Narva’s
teeth a bit if necessary. The Marines ended up taking some reserve
hand held 9K338
Igla
missiles.
The name meant “needle” in Russian, and NATO called the infrared seeking
missile the SA-24
Grinch
, but by any name it was a very capable infantry
operated SAM system.

These
advantages, and the normal thick cloud cover over Siberia, gave them every hope
that they could reach the objective site undetected. They also hoped that they
would learn the outcome of the mission before they met with the British.

“And
what if we encounter Karpov in one of his zeppelins?” Troyak asked the obvious
question.

“You
will have to use your best judgment, Troyak. The Admiral hopes to avoid
engagement. We do not want to let Karpov know we are here just yet. Admiral
Volsky is considering the matter. But you must protect the airship, and your
men. This mission is very important. Coordinate with Captain Selikov. He knows
how to fight the airship. You handle ground operations with your Marines. For
the moment it is Volkov that we are worried about. If the situation allows you
to reconnoiter down those steps and find him, report and Admiral Volsky will
give the final order. And Sergeant, no one needs to know about Karpov for the
moment, particularly Orlov.”

“I
understand, sir.”

“One
other thing…” Fedorov did not quite know how to say this, but struggled on. “If
you should go down those steps, and for any reason cannot return, then realize
that you are at a very decisive point in history. We know what Volkov does, and
what we are trying to prevent here. How you accomplish that is up to you,
Sergeant. But I realize we are asking a great deal of you. The fate of the
world, of all our lives, and the life of our homeland, will be on those broad
shoulders of yours.”

Troyak
took that in for a moment. “I will do everything in my power to complete my
mission, sir. You can rely on me.”

“But…
we may not ever see you again, Troyak.”

The
burly sergeant smiled, shouldering his automatic weapon. “Don’t worry about me,
Captain.” He saluted, and for the first time Fedorov knew what that salute was
all about as he returned it.

“God
be with you.”

Now
they were committed, up in the long steel gondola beneath the
Narva
, the
tether released and the airship slowly ascending into the grey skies. Fedorov
waved, pumped his arm, and saw a man return the gesture from above, a distant
salute. They were on their way.

And
we will be on our way as well, thought Fedorov.
Kirov
was already turned
around, the ship’s nose pointed north again in the Kola inlet, and starting to
work up speed. They would be 36 hours at full speed before they reached the
meeting place with the British, sailing up around the north cape of Norway,
then down through the Norwegian Sea to the Faeroes.
Narva
had a longer
journey, some 3600 kilometers, but they expected to average at least 100kph and
should make it to Ilanskiy within that same 36 hour period.

“Will
we get this man Volkov?” The Admiral had asked him. “What do you really think
our chances are if I give the order?”

“I
don’t know, sir. In fact, I don’t know what we can possibly expect here if
Troyak succeeds. Suppose the Orenburg Federation never arises. Would we
suddenly forget about it? Would all the references and history I’ve been
reading in those books we were given suddenly change? What about all the Soviet
troops along the Volga facing down the Grey Legion? I just don’t understand how
any of that could be affected. Are they all just going to appear somewhere else
as we sit down to tea with Admiral Tovey? Will we be able to remember we even
launched the mission? Why would we? There would be no reason to go after a man
who was never there—do you see what I mean, Admiral?”

“Madness,
Fedorov. I don’t understand any of it. Every time I lay my head down to try and
sleep I keep thinking that I will awaken to the old world, before we left
Severomorsk the first time.”

“There
is one anchor I have tried to use for my thinking on this. The work of that
American physicist—Paul Dorland. He was talking about something called a
Heisenberg Wave.”

“What
in God’s name is that?

“Werner
Heisenberg, sir. He was a German theoretical physicist and one of the creators
of the theory of quantum mechanics. Now that I think of him, he must be alive
even now, working in what was called the German Uranium Club. They were trying
to develop nuclear fission and an atomic weapon. In fact, Heisenberg came to
believe that the war would eventually be decided by the bomb.”

“Yes,
they are all working to lay their eggs,” Volsky shook his head. “And here we
sit with three already in the nest. But how does this relate to this wave
business?”

“The
Heisenberg wave was not his idea. It was just a name given to a theory proposed
by the American physicist, Paul Dorland. Heisenberg once proposed what he
called the Uncertainty Principle. In effect, he claimed that events in the
subatomic world, the world of quantum mechanics, were not certain. The movement
and orbits of particles were not there unless and until they were observed. It
is like these possible changes we’ve been discussing. Perhaps they only take
real form the instant we observe them. Once a change has been made in the past,
then its consequences sweep forward in time, like ripples from a stone thrown
in a pool of still water. This is the Heisenberg Wave. Dorland theorized that
it literally re-arranged every quantum particle it encountered as it migrated
out, though its range was unknown. He carried this idea further by saying that
only the knowing observer would realize the change had taken place, and in
order to be able to make such an observation, he would have to be in a safe place,
one that would keep them from becoming swept up in the wave of change itself.
He called this a Nexus Point.”

“You
and Kamenski should have a long talk, Fedorov. He tried to explain this to me
once, but I have no mind for it. We seem to remember things that others forget,
or have never even known. We knew about the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor,
and how that war ended, but if I asked anyone at the naval headquarters at
Fokino, they all talked about the bombing of Vladivostok. Now here we are again
in a world where that has never happened. Are we in one of these Nexus Points?”

“I
don’t know, but this time I have my doubts. We have always been the ones making
the changes in the past. We were the stone thrown into the water, and the
Heisenberg Wave swept away from us, leaving us unaffected. Yet this time, if
Troyak goes back and changes something, then we could very well be at risk.”

“It
is too much for me to keep track of all these things. I have enough trouble
trying to keep the ship and crew on a steady course. Yet what you say here
gives me much to think about.”

“I
understand, sir.” Fedorov recalled how Kamenski had described it before they
set out on
Kazan
to try and stop Karpov in 1908

Time is not the nice
straight line from point A to point B that you think it is. It is all twisted
and folded about itself and, in fact, any two points on that squiggly line
could meet and be joined. This is why I say we are all together now, in one
place, a nexus point where the lines of fate meet and run through one another
like a Gordian knot, and we sit here trying to figure out how to untangle it….

“Perhaps we will know if anything happens,” he said at last.
“Perhaps we just need to have faith, and do right as we see it, moment to
moment. Then let God, Fate, and Time sort everything out.
We’ll just have to do our best and see
what happens, sir.”

 

* * *

 

Even
as the
Narva
lifted off the
mooring tower and climbed into the sky, Vladimir Karpov was musing in the
gondola bridge of airship
Akaban
. So I have finally seen the end of all
my mischief, he thought with some foreboding. The war in 2021 reaches its awful
conclusion. What else could that have been? I was watching a nice fat nuclear
warhead going off, right over the 10th Naval arsenal on the other side of the
river.

He
could see the place where it would be built, just a thicket of pine and taiga
now, where the rail line curved towards Kansk. He was suddenly beset with the
feeling that nothing mattered any longer. No matter what I do here, he thought,
I cannot save the world. Or is it the things I do here that bring that awful
vision to life in the future? Which is it?

Face
it, Karpov, he chided himself. You are not busy here trying to save the world.
You are only interested in saving your own skin, and the world be damned, eh?
Another voice argued in his mind. No, it said, that wasn’t true. I have been
fighting for Russia all along. I fought the British, Germans, Japanese and the
Americans—all our enemies, all with a mind to exploit us and take from us. Now
I fight for Russia, and not simply my own ambition. If no one here has the mind
or will to pull this country together again, then I must do it.

Yes,
he thought, give yourself a noble purpose, but look how it ends? What are you
doing, you fool! You were once Captain of the most powerful ship on earth. The
possibilities were limitless. You could have done anything. Now here you are
flitting about in these antiquated old blimps, a self appointed Admiral of a
phantom fleet of airships. What in God’s name do you think you are doing?

I’m
doing
this
, the other voice answered. There’s more in my grasp now than
the reins of this old airship, or even the entire fleet. No. I have more at my
command than the hordes of Tartar Cavalry I threatened Volkov with. I’ve got
that damn stairway under my thumb! Volkov doesn’t know what really happened to
him. He never made the connection between this place and his movement in time,
a connection that was almost immediately apparent to me. What a fool I was—I
very nearly spilled the beans when I suggested that to him in our meeting. I
can only hope he doesn’t put two and two together like I did and get curious.
Otherwise he would likely move his entire air fleet to secure this place.

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