Nemesis (5 page)

“Of
course,” said Karpov. “And if it is correct, as I believe it will be, then we
have just been ordered to proceed directly to Severomorsk. I suppose such a
message could be spoofed if this is part of the NATO PSYOP I now believe is
underway here. Yet I can easily determine that when I retrieve the secure
envelope from the safe, and check that authentication code. There is no way
they could know that, as it was only assigned the day we left port. So enough
of this nonsense. You can either report to your station now Fedorov, or stand
relieved. The choice is yours, but if you persist in this business, I will make
that choice for you.”

The
Captain stood up, straightening his cap, and was out the door. “Come along,
Mister Nikolin. Let’s get to the bottom of this.”

*

Fedorov
had no choice but to follow, trailing slightly behind the Captain
who had Nikolin in tow as he made his way back to the bridge. There, in the
flag plot room, there was a safe with a plain Manila envelope. It would contain
a single coded word, and if that word matched the final word in the message
they had received, it would confirm the order was coming directly from Russian
Military High Command.

Karpov
wasted no time getting to that safe, as Fedorov settled sullenly into his
chair. Perhaps he had gone about this the wrong way, he thought. Perhaps he
should have tried to work with Admiral Volsky first, to secure his support
before he tried to convince Karpov what had happened. Yet what was this strange
message? He had not expected anything of the sort, and when Karpov entered the
Flag Plot room, and closed the door, he leaned over towards Nikolin, glad that
Orlov was not on the bridge at that moment.

“Nikolin…
Was that really on the Russian Navy frequency?”

The
other man nodded.

“From
Moscow? And was it formatted correctly?”

Again,
Nikolin nodded in the affirmative, and this only deepened the mystery for
Fedorov. What was happening here? He knew that they had told the Soviets to use
that frequency for routine communications with the ship. Volsky had Nikolin
huddle with the Soviets as to protocols and message formats. They even left a
code book with them, which assigned a different prefix key each day, which in
turn determined the meaning of the other code words used, except the final
word. That had not been disclosed, and had never been used, and the fact that
it was transmitted here was very strange. How could the message incorporate the
signals code key from the secure safe here aboard the ship? It had to be some
kind of error, he thought. No one could know that code word, except perhaps
Volsky or Karpov…

What
was going on here?

My
first attempt produced predictable results, thought
Fedorov, but at least I achieved one thing, the helo mission to Jan Mayen was
vital in our first attempt to understand what happened to us, and Karpov
launched it with Orlov and Troyak as I suggested. Yet I have a long way to go
here, and need some allies.

Another
thing suddenly occurred to him—they had a very short lease here. Chief Dobrynin
was soon going to conduct that reactor maintenance procedure and Rod-25 might
send them off again… Or would it? That shift occurred during a nuclear event,
that first madness unleashed upon the world by Karpov. Yet would that happen
now? We aren’t going to run the Denmark Strait pursued by the British as
before. The first of August was a quiet day, as I recall it. We had already
visited Jan Mayen, encountered that British destroyer, and then turned south
off the coast of Greenland. Tomorrow we would face the first air strike by
Wake-Walker’s Force P, but that isn’t happening now at all. That order to
return home changed everything. Yet what could it be? Who could have sent it?
Could it be coming from Sergei Kirov? How could it contain the proper
authentication code?

Karpov
was certainly acting as if it was authentic. He watched him go to the flag plot
room again, seeing him draw out the command key that he always kept in a chain
about his neck. It was the very same key he had used with such devastating
consequences when he authorized the use of special warheads. What was it going
to unlock this time?

The
Captain emerged, a smug look on his face, though he ignored Fedorov and simply
went about his business, ordering the submersible back to the ship, taking the
crew Chief’s report, and then ordering Orlov to take the KA-226 out to have a
quick look at Jan Mayen with a few Marines.

“It’s
probably a waste of good aviation fuel, but see if the facility there is still
operational,” he said quietly, as if not wishing anyone else to hear the order,
though Fedorov overheard the remark. Then Karpov went down to the sick bay to
confer with Admiral Volsky, and Fedorov’s shift ended before he returned.

I need
to find out what is happening here, he thought. Thank god those British
cruisers turned about earlier. At least we don’t have the ship on a hair
trigger and at action stations, yet this situation is far from resolved.

With
that thought, he started for sick bay himself the moment his shift ended that
afternoon. He would pay his respects to the Admiral, and see if he could again
forge the grand alliance with Volsky and Zolkin that had prevailed to save the
ship from Karpov once before. He knocked on the door, hoping the Admiral was
awake, and was not disappointed.

“Come
in, Mister Fedorov,” said Zolkin when he had poked his head through the hatch.
“I hope you have no further problems?”

“With
my head? No Doctor. I’m fine. I was just wondering how the Admiral was doing.
I’ve come to pay my respects.”

“He is
quite well, right in the next room resting if you would care to say hello. I
think he’ll be back on his feet in no time.”

“I’m
very glad to hear that,” said Fedorov as they entered, and when the Admiral saw
him, he smiled.

“Ah,
Mister Fedorov, it seems that the two of us have more in common than we
thought. Here I am on the same medication the Doctor prescribed for you.”

“It was
nothing serious,” said Zolkin. “Just a little case of BPV, Benign Positional
Vertigo. Yes, I’ve given the good Admiral a little dose of that anti-nausea
medicine, and he should be fine soon.”

“I hope
you are well again soon,” said Fedorov. “But Admiral… May I discuss something
with you?”

“Certainly,”
said Volsky. “I hope things are well on the bridge. Is Karpov riding you again?
He was very curt during that incident. The man has a short fuse.”

“I’ll
be fine, sir, but I was wondering about that message we received. I know it is
not my place to know, but was it authentic? Have we been summoned home to
Severomorsk?”

“Curious,
Fedorov? I suppose the other officers are as well. Yes, the message was
authenticated. But what was this other radio call we received? What was this
business about an Admiral Tovey? Karpov was in here earlier saying you seemed
quite irrational. Suppose you tell me about it.”

Fedorov
hesitated briefly, unsure of the ice he was walking on, but he proceeded on
good faith, knowing Volsky to be a reasonable man. “I asked Nikolin to put out
an all ships respond signal on command channel 272,” he began. “He did that
this morning, and we got the response I expected.”

“From a
British Admiral?”

“Yes
sir.”

“Karpov
says there is no such person in the active officer registry for the Royal Navy.
That ship that was mentioned was also non-existent.”

“That
is correct, in one respect, sir, in our day.”

“In our
day? What other day are we at liberty to be in, Mister Fedorov? That aside, I
find this radio message very unusual. Nikolin says it came in on 272, but that
is an encrypted channel. The caller would have to possess the proper equipment,
so this is a bit of a frog in the borscht. Who really made that call? The
Captain believes it was the British, possibly with a radio set filched by their
MI-6 agents. He’s a bit worked up about this, and very suspicious, particularly
of you. What did you say to put him in such a mood?”

“I simply
asked him to consider all the evidence, sir. Things are very strange here. I
was certain of what I saw when we got the video feed on those two ships—
County
Class cruisers, yet they should not be at sea.”

“Yes,
we were going through that on the bridge when I had my little vertigo spell.
Karpov tells me this radio call asked to speak with you. Is that so? I find
that very odd, wouldn’t you say?”

“I told
the Captain I was familiar with the British officer when he identified himself,
but he did not believe me.”

“Yes, he
says you told him you met this man personally? Frankly, Mister Fedorov, that
seemed odd. The Captain has even questioned your loyalty. He seems convinced
some kind of deliberate deception is underway here, and even suggested you
might be involved in this. Anything to say on that?”

“As I
told the Captain, sir. No, I am not involved in any kind of espionage here. I
can explain everything, though it will sound somewhat fantastic.”

“Yes…
Karpov also tells me you were trying to convince him the time had changed.” He
gave Fedorov a quizzical look. “Something about the moon? Well go ahead then,
tell me.”

Fedorov
saw how Zolkin eased into his chair, arms folded, quietly observing. I must be
very careful here, he thought. Karpov has obviously tilled the ground and told
the Admiral I was spouting nonsense. From the look on Zolkin’s face, I can see
he’s watching me, probably trying to assess my mental condition. I can’t be
dismissed here as crazy. I need to find a way through this. But how? Stay with
incontrovertible facts. It’s the only play I have now. I came here at this time
for a reason.

“Admiral
sir,” he began. “I find the evidence we have uncovered thus far in our
investigation most disturbing. The presence of those ships, that radio call,
the lack of any wreckage or flotsam from either
Orel
or
Slava
—this
is most unusual, sir.”

“Agreed,”
said Volsky. “It is somewhat of a mystery, and I have been discussing it with
the Doctor here as well. Those were obviously British ships. Who knows, perhaps
Karpov was right, and they still had a few old cruisers mothballed. I know you
say all the ships in that class were scrapped, but let us admit the possibility
that they reactivated something… or that your identification of those ships may
have been in error.”

“I was
very certain of what I saw, Admiral.”

“Yes,
and I thought they were a good match to the images you showed me in your book,
but let us admit this possibility. As to that radio call, the good thing there
is that those ships turned about. It appears the British have no hostile
intentions here, though Karpov isn’t quite convinced of that yet. As to the
lack of wreckage, I got the report from the submersible. Nothing was found.”

“And
nothing
will
be found sir. I told the Captain as much.”

“Well
nothing was found yet, Mister Fedorov, but the water here can be very deep, and
the submersible was not down there long. This is still an unanswered question
in my mind.”

“But
sir… What about the sun and moon data?” Fedorov shared his objection, stating
the exact moon conditions they should expect now. “That data is not open to
speculation, sir. It is fixed, and can be accurately predicted for any date,
time, or location on earth. Believe me, I’m the ship’s navigator. If anyone has
his head on the position of the sun and moon, it would be me, sir. This was why
Karpov was so upset with the shift replacements at navigation when I fell ill.
They were using the expected sun and moon positions to try and plot manually, but
the moon wasn’t there! It wasn’t rising at the correct time, and the phase was
wrong as well. We should have moonrise at 21:00 this evening for August 1,
2021. I can show you the data right from the computer. Yet look sir—look out
there this very moment!”

Fedorov
had chosen this time to make his visit for a very specific reason. He looked at
his watch, noting the time was perfect now, and pointed to the porthole window
that gave a view off to the east. There, peeking up from the grey horizon, was
a fat waxing moon, just as Fedorov had asserted it would be, but for another
date and time, and impossible date and time, and now he knew he had his moment.

“You
may think I am irrational, as Karpov clearly does, but the sun and moon do not
lie, sir, nor do I when I see this evidence with my own eyes. This is moonrise,
and it is now only 16:00. In a moment, you will see this is a waxing gibbous
moon. It should be a morning crescent. I noted this discrepancy the night
before I returned to my station, when I knew I was going to have to plot
manually. As soon as that fog lifted I went out to look for the moon, but it
was wrong, sir. I check this every day. That moon should not be rising now,
Admiral, any more than those two cruisers we saw should have been at sea.”

Volsky
was quiet for a moment, slowly scratching his grey eyebrow, and looking briefly
at Zolkin. “You are certain of your data on this, Mister Fedorov?”

“Absolutely.
And when I saw this anomaly, I decided to check the ship’s chronometer. Then I
reverse calculated dates where this moon condition would be valid for our
location. Unless the computer is completely wrong sir, it gives a match for
this date, August 1, but the year returned was
1941
. There was another
close match, with a waxing gibbous moonrise at 16:07 in the year 1998, two more
minutes from now. Yet August 1, 1941 produces an exact match for our present
position. And sir… That is the date time stamped on all those radio broadcasts
Nikolin has been monitoring. That is a date and time when two
County
Class cruisers
could
be at sea, and also a date and time when a man
named Admiral John Tovey
was
in command of the British home fleet.”

“Karpov
said you were going on about the moon being off kilter,” said Zolkin. “He
thought it was your head off kilter again. Is this what you told him?”

“Yes
Doctor, I shared this same information, but he wouldn’t listen. Then that
message came in and he went off to see about it. Yet there it is, sir. The moon
is up, plain to see, and yet every almanac you consult, and my own navigation
equipment, will tell you it should not rise until 21:00. Is the earth off
kilter? That is one possible explanation, though hardly likely. The other is
that something more profound has happened to us when we experienced all those
strange effects. The
time
is wrong, sir—wrong as that moon out there. We
are not where we should be, and this is from your ship’s chief navigator, plain
and direct.”

Volsky
looked from the moon outside to his chief physician. “Dmitri?” he said. “What
is going on here?”

“Something
is certainly off,” said Zolkin, “but I will not say it is our navigator here.
He is correct. The sun and moon do not tell lies. And yet… we just received a
properly formatted recall order from Moscow, if Karpov is to be believed. It
was authenticated with the proper final code word retrieved from the ship’s
command safe. If this is so, it would seem that message could not have been
sent in any year but the one we were sailing in, 2021. This is quite a puzzle,
Leonid. We have more of a mystery here than the accident with
Orel
and
the fact that
Slava
is still missing.”

“
Slava
isn’t missing, sir,” said Fedorov, “It’s probably still out there towing those
targeting barges in 2021, but
we’ve
gone missing sir. That is what all
the other evidence points to, we’re not where we belong—not in our own time.”

“Yet
that recall order would seem to suggest otherwise, Fedorov. And you must admit
that, for us to believe the tale that moon is telling us now…. Well it would be
quite a leap, quite fantastic.”