Winter Storm (9 page)

“Mid-September?”

“Yes
sir. That’s what I’m hearing from Radio Moscow. Something about an Operation
Typhoon. I’ll try to pick up BBC and verify.”

Karpov
looked at Fedorov now. “Then you were correct, Mister Fedorov. We’ve done the
moving. Does your sun and moon data bear this conclusion out?”

“The
moon won’t be up for several hours,” said Fedorov, “and that will be the real
data I need.”

“Very
well, walk with me please.” He gestured to the weather deck, and it was clear
that he wanted to step outside for a private chat with Fedorov. “Let’s take one
last look at the sea.”

Once
out on the deck, Fedorov noted how the Captain made a point to close the hatch,
effectively sealing the two of them off. He had his field glasses, raising them
in the manner he so often did, scanning the sea and sky around them while
Fedorov waited.

“Dobrynin
says the reactors are stable,” he said quietly. “He also says you were down
there a few days ago asking him a lot of questions…”

“Sir?
You mean in engineering? Yes, I was there a few days ago. Just curious as I was
passing through that deck.”

“Just
curious,” said Karpov. “Yes, you wanted to know the next time the Chief planned
to dip his wick in the rod inspection cycle. You were down there to check on
our little friend, weren’t you. You were down to check on Rod-25.”

Fedorov
had the sinking feeling that Karpov’s guard was up again, and something warned
him of danger here. Then the Captain slowly lowered his field glasses, turning
to him with a smile.

“Yes,
Fedorov, Rod-25 was your business that day, wasn’t it. You know, that was a
nice little trick you pulled with that code list. It was very clever, and had I
not found this in your quarters, buried in a drawer, I might have just believed
you.”

Karpov
reached into his jacket pocket and handed Fedorov something. His eyes widened
when he saw what it was—the newspaper they had recovered from the Australian
coast while cruising in the Timor Sea….

“Going
to play dumb again?” said Karpov. “Really, Fedorov, you
should be more careful where you leave things. Going to pretend you know
nothing of this, or of Rod-25?”

The
newspaper was in English, a language where Fedorov had only a limited
comprehension. But he recognized it immediately, and Karpov could not fail to
see that on his face when he handed it to him. His shock at the discovery was
real and unmistakable, for he had no idea that object existed, and could not
think of how it would still be in his desk drawer where he knew he had tucked
it away long ago—on the old
Kirov
, the first ship. It was another
strange remnant from their previous journey, a part of the same mystery that possessed
Doctor Zolkin when he found that bloodied bandage.

We
found that newspaper in that cottage off the Australian coast, he thought, and
it told us how the war started—how
Key West
died in the nexus of all
that tension in the Pacific, and set all the dominoes falling. Nine days
falling… the beginning of that terrible war Karpov and the ship had been spared
by the wrath of the Demon Volcano.

Karpov
fixed him with a steady stare now. “You know what this is, Fedorov. No sense in
wearing the mask any longer. You know who I am as well, surely not the Captain
you left when you went ashore at Severomorsk. And by God, you know everything
else along with that, don’t you. You’ve known it all along. Was Volsky in on
the act as well? What a masterful little performance you two put on!”

Fedorov
realized that it was futile to pretend ignorance any longer. He had been
justifiably wary of this man, for Karpov had darkened and aged in the gyre of
terror over these long years. He was more sinister now than he had ever seemed,
and the obvious danger in that was enough to make any man cautious. And yet,
Fedorov was not the same man he once was either. Orlov knew that, and now
Karpov must know it as well.

“Alright
Captain, you are correct. There isn’t any point in the two of us jousting any
further. Yes, I know everything—all of it, everything we both lived through.
You’ll ask me how, because by god, no other man on this ship knows a whisper of
it—no, not even Volsky. I was convincing enough with my sun and moon data to
persuade him we had actually moved in time, and he was finally believing me.
Then you came along…”

“Most
inconvenient for the two of you,” said Karpov with a thin smile. “Yes, I came
along, to reclaim what was rightfully mine. Then you knew something was amiss
the moment you set eyes on me, didn’t you. Tyrenkov couldn’t discern any
subterfuge, and your act was so good that you were starting to fool even me. But
little threads kept dangling, little breadcrumb trails that led me to increase
my suspicion. You were trying too hard in the beginning, and I learned what you
said and did from my brother. You know about him too. Yes? Of course you do.
When I learned you had used the word
Geronimo
, I was quite suspicious,
but I bought your little story. When I was told Tovey wanted to speak with you
directly, well, I just assumed he wanted the man he once knew. By the way,
Fedorov, where is that nice young navigator? Did he survive, just like my
brother and I survived?”

Fedorov
shrugged. “No,” he said sullenly. “And God’s truth, I have no idea how I
survived. Am I that man, yet with all the memories of what we experienced come
to full bloom in my head? No one else remembers anything. Why only me?”

“A good
question,” said Karpov. “So you know everything then—all my dirty business in
that first attempt to take the ship. You told Volsky that, didn’t you.”

“I did.
What would you have done in my place?”

“Probably
the same,” said Karpov. “You were looking for allies, and my little brother was
already on to you. In fact, he thought you some kind of spy or double agent,
and I suppose he was correct. Well, it’s too late. Volsky is gone, and the ship
is finally mine again. He can commiserate with Admiral Golovko, or even hop a
train or plane to Moscow to plead his case with Sergei Kirov, but it will do
him no good. The ship is mine—ours—as I mustn’t leave my brother out of this.
I’m back where I belong, and intend to stay. The only question now is what to
do about you?”

“Going
to set Grilikov on me now?” said Fedorov. “Your other self tried that with
Orlov, but I stood my ground. I won’t be bullied, Karpov. I’m not the little
navigator you thought you could cow so easily.”

“No,”
said Karpov, “you’re the conniving little shit who couldn’t take no for an
answer and decided to come after me in a goddamn submarine!” The anger flared,
but Fedorov remained calm.

“What
else was I supposed to do?” he said quietly. “You wouldn’t listen to reason,
Captain… Or is it Admiral now?”

“Frankly,
it
is
Admiral now, and well earned,” said Karpov. “Have you looked at a
goddamned map since your last little sortie aboard
Kirov?
Notice
anything wrong? We were just discussing the Japanese, and who can we thank now
for the fact that they’re sitting on Vladivostok and most of our eastern
provinces there? How’s that little crack look in your mirror of history? If you
and Volsky had kept your nose out of things, I would have prevented all of that
long ago.”

“What?
In 1908?” said Fedorov. “You still think you were Russia’s guardian angel? Do
you have any idea how dangerous your actions were? Yes, I’ve looked at a
goddamned map, and what I see there is as much your handiwork as my own. You
attacked the Japanese! Why? Because you could, that’s why. You thought they
would make easy prey back then, and why not? You were Captain of
Kirov
,
the mightiest ship in the whole world. You were going to set everything
straight, and restore Russia to her rightful place as a Pacific power. Well,
you told me it simply wasn’t possible to set things right any longer. Didn’t
you?”

“I said
you couldn’t set them back to the way they once were,” said Karpov quickly.
“No. You can’t make things fall back into line for your precious history, Fedorov.
But you can write it anew. You just have to have the guts for that, as you
apparently do not.”

“Captain…
I won’t call you a megalomaniac if you won’t call me a coward.” He fixed Karpov
with the same steady eyes, his resolve building now that the game was finally
over.

Karpov
laughed. “Fair enough,” he said. “Let’s not make this personal, but you have to
understand that I had a long time to think about what you and Volsky did to
me.”

Fedorov
shook his head. “If you entrusted this ship to Rodenko, having urgent business
elsewhere, what would you do if he pulled up anchor and sailed off to rewrite
history the way
he
saw things? I don’t think you’d simply give him your
blessing and let that go. What did you expect the Admiral to do? You disobeyed
a direct order! Yes, you feel we betrayed you, and I can see that easily
enough. But have you ever stopped to think how we felt? He gave you this ship,
entrusted you with its power, and the lives of every man aboard. What happened
on the bridge off Oki Island? I wasn’t there, but I learned what happened with
Rodenko and Zolkin, and then finally the whole bridge crew standing up and
saying no to you. But that isn’t a word you ever could hear without pain.”

Karpov
took a deep breath. “I know what I did, and what I was going to do. You see, I
remember everything too, Fedorov. I remember the
Wasp
, and the
Mississippi
,
and the fat lip I gave Captain Tanner’s carrier battlegroup after that. I did a
few things after that volcano went off they you may not even know about.”

“Yes,”
said Fedorov, “you got the other two ships that shifted back with you blown to
hell.”

“They
died fighting for Russia, as I hope I will if the enemy ever betters me. But
that won’t happen now.”

“Oh?
What are you going to do? I asked you earlier, as the naive little historian
you were chatting with. Now I ask you man to man. What are you planning here?”

“The
same thing I told you earlier. Japan has something that belongs to me, and my
presence here on this ship should tell you just how I feel about things like
that.”

“You’re
going to attack the Japanese?”

“If I
must.”

“And
then what? You think they’ll simply bow and cede back all our occupied
territories? Captain, Admiral, or is it Mister General Secretary now, the one
thing they all have in common is your tendency to underestimate your enemy. I
know something of what happened in 1945. We uncovered things when we were on
your trail. You underestimated the American Navy then, and the men on
Admiral
Golovko
and
Orlan
paid the highest possible price for that. You
underestimated the skill and determination of Admiral Tojo, and allowed your
ship to come within range of the Japanese guns. And yes, you’ve underestimated
me, and for a good long while.”

“Don’t
be so sanctimonious, Fedorov. Yes, I know you want to stand there and point a
finger at me, but remember that map. Guess who sits on a third of old Mother
Russia now? Ivan Volkov! How in God’s name did he find himself in 1908? How did
you ever get back there yourself?”

“Time
was pulling us all to that moment,” said Fedorov. “You know about Ilanskiy. I
discovered it by pure chance, and I suppose Volkov discovered it by chance as
well, only 80 years later! That was when I realized the stairway moved in both
directions, both forward and backwards in time.”

“But it
was you who insisted on the mission to look for Orlov,” said Karpov. “I was
right there when you pitched it to Volsky. So before you get to shoveling shame
on me for the state this world is in, take a look in that cracked mirror at
yourself. I had to do that a short while ago. You have no idea what it was to
face the paradox we were both approaching, but I survived. When I learned the
ship had returned, and was right there again in the Norwegian Sea, imagine my
surprise. All I could think about was getting here.”

“To set
things right again,” said Fedorov, “to get your little pound of flesh? Then you
found the whole crew was clueless as to your duplicity and subterfuge…. Except
for me.”

“Two
can play at that game, as you’ve clearly demonstrated. Come on, Fedorov, what
are we quibbling about here? Was I angry when you and Volsky interfered
earlier? Of course! But that isn’t going to happen this time. Volsky isn’t going
to find another submarine. Which reminds me… Whatever did happen to Gromyko?”

“We
don’t know,” said Fedorov, quietly carrying a little guilt for all of that as
well. “He was in the thick of that last engagement in May, and I think he fired
a special warhead. There’s a lot I must tell you.”

“There…
I like the sound of that much better,” said Karpov. “There’s a lot I must tell
you as well. Don’t you see, Fedorov? Here we stand, two men who know what they
have done, with the world broken at our feet. I know my part in it, as you know
yours. God knows, that fool Orlov has a hand in all of this along with us. As
for Volsky? That man intended only good, I see that now. He took your council,
and did what he could, but things are what they are now, and he’s no longer a
factor. Yet you and I still matter here. You and I matter a very great deal.”

“I hear
a sales pitch coming,” said Fedorov.

“No,
you hear reality talking now, and you goddamn well know it. Do you think your
presence here, with all those memories intact, is mere coincidence? I see
things otherwise, and my own presence here as destiny. You have a destiny too,
Fedorov. We can either be yin and yang, arising mutually, opposing one another,
yet also defining one another, or we can be one in this affair, and then really
set our minds on making things right.”

“I
thought you believed that wasn’t possible,” said Fedorov.

“Anything
is possible. Look… Things are changing, right now, this very moment. Did you
hear what Nikolin said about Operation Typhoon? The goddamned Germans are
hammering at the gates to the Kremlin! What if they get through this time? You met
Sergei Kirov, as did I. You know he’s a man worth fighting for. And by God, I
gave him men and resources to build five Shock Armies, and my full support.”

“Yes,
for this ship…” Fedorov could not abate the quiet accusation in his tone.

“True
enough,” said Karpov. “That much is obvious. But it doesn’t change anything
about what I said. You want a real villain when you aren’t busy worrying about
me? Try Ivan Volkov. That man has already mounted two raids on Ilanskiy, and
thank god I stopped him both times. He
knows
, Fedorov. He went down
those stairs looking for you, and now he finally knows how he ended up where he
did. Now then, imagine Volkov in control of Ilanskiy. Where does he go? The man
is hand and glove with Adolf Hitler! What does he do to rewrite history to his
liking? You want that?”

“Of
course not.”

“Well,
neither do I! I want the Japanese gone from everything they took from us, and
Volkov gone with them. I want all the Caucasus back, and Kazakhstan and all the
other turf Volkov is sitting on in his little Orenburg Federation—not for
myself, but for our nation! The only difference between me and you is that I’ll
fight for what I want, and by God, I’ll win if you’ll help me instead of trying
to undercut everything I do. It has to be one way or the other, Fedorov. You
were Captain of this ship once, and you know what we can do with it. You had no
qualms about attacking the Kriegsmarine. Yes, I sunk the
Wasp
in a
moment of misguided anger. You tried to stop me back then, but I wouldn’t
listen to you, but I’ll listen now. With all you know, we can do what has to be
done here, and if it ever would be possible to set things right in this world
we’ve broken together, then we must do that together—as one, as a team. Fight
me now, and we’ll only break more China.”