Doppelganger

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by John Schettler




  Doppelganger

  Number XVII of Kirov

  John Schettler

  The Writing Shop Press (2015)

  * * *

  Kirov Saga:

  Doppelganger

  By

  John Schettler

  A publication of: The Writing Shop Press

  Doppelganger Copyright©2015, John A. Schettler

  KIROV SERIES:

  The Kirov Saga: Season One

  Kirov - Kirov Series - Volume 1

  Cauldron Of Fire - Kirov Series - Volume 2

  Pacific Storm - Kirov Series - Volume 3

  Men Of War - Kirov Series - Volume 4

  Nine Days Falling - Kirov Series - Volume 5

  Fallen Angels - Kirov Series - Volume 6

  Devil’s Garden - Kirov Series - Volume 7

  Armageddon – Kirov Series – Volume 8

  The Kirov Saga: Season Two

  Altered States– Kirov Series – Volume 9

  Darkest Hour– Kirov Series – Volume 10

  Hinge Of Fate– Kirov Series – Volume 11

  Three Kings – Kirov Series – Volume 12

  Grand Alliance – Kirov Series – Volume 13

  Hammer Of God – Kirov Series – Volume 14

  Crescendo Of Doom – Kirov Series – Volume 15

  Paradox Hour – Kirov Series – Volume 16

  The Kirov Saga: Season Three

  Doppelganger – Kirov Series – Volume 17

  More to come…

  Kirov Saga:

  Doppelganger

  By

  John Schettler

  “We are past the end of things now, but I don't want to leave.”

  —Richard Ford: The Sportswriter, 1986

  “The vision recurs; the eastern sun has a second rise; history repeats her tale unconsciously, and goes off into a mystic rhyme; ages are prototypes of other ages, and the winding course of time brings us round to the same spot again.”

  ― The Christian Remembrancer, 1845

  Kirov Saga:

  Doppelganger

  By

  John Schettler

  Part I – Fire & Steel

  Part II – The Final Shift

  Part III – Gladiators

  Part IV – Interlopers

  Part V – Nothing Is Written

  Part VI – Mirrors

  Part VII –War Plans

  Part VIII – Doppelganger

  Part IX – Backwash

  Part X – Loose Ends

  Part XI – Chaos Zone

  Part XII – The Second Coming

  Dorland’s Time Glossary

  Author’s Note:

  Dear readers, this is the opening volume of the third “season” of the Kirov Saga, Doppelganger, and a proper continuation of the events presented in Paradox Hour. The challenge facing the ship on 28 July, 1941, only just began to manifest in the previous novel, and will reach a full resolution here. In writing this, I thought long and hard about the Paradox facing the ship as it approached that date from both the future and the past. That collision in time promised to be as harrowing as the strange incident with the cruiser Tone at the end of Pacific Storm. Then again, it might be nothing at all.

  The mystery inherent in time travel has long been at the heart of this series. You sat with me, patiently watching Fedorov and Volsky slowly peel that onion, discovering what was moving the ship in time in Rod-25. Men of War, introduced yet another major element of that mystery when Fedorov inadvertently discovers the natural time rift aligned with the back stairway at Ilanskiy. The connection of this event to 1908, concurrent with the Tunguska Event, took the mystery of time displacement to another level, particularly when Inspector Kapustin discovers that elements used in the making of Rod-25 were mined near the epicenter of that event. The importance of Tunguska in what is now happening is far from over, and more of this segment of the mystery will be revealed in upcoming books.

  You have also watched the slow evolution of Director Kamenski’s character, from a whimsical old man discussing battleships with his grandson, to something quite more. I have used this character to be a mouthpiece for some of this mystery of time travel, a sounding board for Fedorov as he struggled to understand what the ship and crew might be facing soon, and the consequences of his own actions in the past.

  Kamenski’s revelations concerning the Russian nuclear test program were another peek behind the curtain and, in Paradox Hour, he spends some time trying to explain the nature of time to Fedorov, and also reveals one other startling fact—like Elena Fairchild, he has been the keeper of a strange artifact from the future.

  The “Keyholders Saga” was first introduced as the final scene in my five volume Meridian Time travel series, which was reprised in an edited version in Paradox Hour to help explicate events that are now unfolding in the Kirov Series. Another enigmatic figure, Sir Roger Ames, the Duke of Elvington, also served to slowly plant the seed of the tree that is now growing when he took us on that strange retreat to the castle of Lindisfarne, yet another hidden natural rift in time, secured, and opened, by a key from the future.

  The mystery and purpose of these keys soon became an imperative in the naval chase that saw Kirov sail with Admiral Tovey’s HMS Invincible, first in the hunt for the Hindenburg, and then in the desperate effort to save the battleship Rodney, and the secret cargo it was transporting to Boston. Readers should know that this mission by Rodney was not a device arising from my own imagination. It was entirely historical. I merely inserted the key in the base of the Selene Horse in my Meridian Series. When Rodney sets sail to rendezvous with Kirov, those two story worlds also begin to join in Paradox Hour with the introduction of Lieutenant Commander Wellings—another historical figure whose identity was filched by an enterprising Physics Professor, Paul Dorland.

  Readers of the Meridian Series will know this man well, along with the other team members from the Meridian Project. Some of you have even written to me asking whether the Meridian team was going to discover what Kirov was doing on its chaotic sorties through WWII. Now you have your answer. As the Kirov Series progresses, you will occasionally meet the Meridian team members operating from their Arch facility in the Lawrence Berkeley labs. Considering what has happened to Director Kamenski at the end of Paradox Hour, Professor Paul Dorland now steps in to help explain the Paradox, and further unravel this Gordian knot of time travel.

  Through the mind of Professor Dorland, you will now gain an understanding of just what is happening to the time continuum. In this regard, I have included the lexicon of his time travel terminology as developed in the Dorland theory here at the end of this volume as an easy reference. (Just be sure you don’t peek at the ending if you navigate there!) If you listen carefully to the Meridian team leader here, you will soon come to understand why Kirov experienced all those strange effects, Lenkov’s fate, and by extension the fate of the entire ship and crew. You will also learn just what Elena Fairchild fears, even though she does not quite understand it, when she speaks about a “Grand Finality.”

  Beyond that, there is a great deal more to come as Kirov finally faces the effects of Paradox Hour. An intriguing story line develops that will further explore this mystery inherent in time travel, and explain how the Keyholders relate to it all, while also taking us towards the year 1942. Yes, though these two volumes are heavy on the time travel angles in the story, the alternative history of WWII will also continue in season three.

  There’s a lot of military action yet to come. Operation Barbarossa gathers momentum, as well as Volkov’s war with Sergei Kirov on the Volga front. In that regard, the fate of Captain Karpov will take an interesting turn here, for he must also stand before Time’s court, and answer for the many misdeeds he has committed. In this book
you get the verdict.

  The Japanese will soon be entering the war, and the Americans right on their heels. Meanwhile, the shock of Kirov’s missile technology, and the appearance of Brigadier Kinlan’s unstoppable 7th Armored Brigade, will prompt Germany to launch crash programs to develop new heavy tanks, jet engines, and rockets. The WWII looming ahead will be profoundly influenced by these developments, and Kinlan’s troops will be in the thick of that action.

  To faithful crew members, my readers who have been with me from the first book, this volume will finally take us through the fateful date of 7/28/41 and lead to the progression of the war in 1942. Thank you all so much for staying with this story. I promise you another exciting ride here in season three. So without further preface, let us begin! - John Schettler

  Part I

  Fire & Steel

  “The hardest steel is tempered by the hottest fire.”

  ― Proverb

  Chapter 1

  Tovey stood on the bridge of HMS Invincible, struggling to resist the urge to pace. Somewhere within him, he ladled up the cool waters of that reserve of calm he could call on—when his temper wasn’t hot and fired. He was fire and steel, the cold strength of well tempered metal, the heat and energy of the flames, all in one.

  My god, he thought, as he noted the tall seething column on the horizon, rising like a thunderhead, up and up. He had seen this before… somewhere… He could not recall when and where it was, but the sight of that awful grey mushroom chilled him to the bone. What was happening here?

  The plaintive reports from Rodney harried him as well, and though Invincible was running all out at her best speed of 32 knots, it would never be enough. The old battleship he hoped to keep from harm was already stricken, hit by an enemy torpedo, and the gaping wound was battered open again by the hard steel of shells from the Tirpitz. He did not know that his charge had already slipped from his grasp, falling inexorably into the depths of the murky sea, the light of the glittering bars of gold bullion slowly fading as they fell.

  “Message from Captain Tennant sir.” It was the Flag Lieutenant, Commander James Villers, a dark haired, blue-eyed man, tall and aristocratic in bearing, with a stiff posture and equally stiff manner, particularly with subordinates. He had been the tutor of Tovey’s young protégé, now Captain Christopher Wells, and he eyed the message with some concern.

  “Emergency to Admiralty and C-in-C, Home Fleet. From BC2 – Sighted battleship and battlecruiser, bearing 220, distance 21 miles. My position, course, and speed to follow. Requesting permission to engage.”

  Tovey looked up, squinting at his Flag Lieutenant, his eyes narrow with thought. Villers walked slowly to the Admiral’s side, handing him the signal. “That’s twelve more 15-inchers on the field,” he said.

  “Yes,” said Tovey, still thinking. “Yet with bloody thin skin.”

  “They’ve laid on a bit more deck armor for Renown after that bomb damage she took.”

  “Quite so,” said Tovey, “but nothing that will stop the steel being flung about by that German battleship. Any more word from Rodney?”

  “She’s in bad shape, Admiral, foundering with a hard list to port. Captain Hamilton is of a mind that we may lose her, yet he’s still in the fight.”

  “Then order Captain Tennant to engage at once. Tell them we’re coming with all the speed we can muster.”

  “Very good, sir.” Villers started away, looking to collar a signalman, but Tovey spoke again.

  “What about the German carrier?”

  “Apparently the Russians put the fire to them, sir. Hamilton reports he can see a considerable column of smoke to his northwest. Good of them to get one in like that, but where in bloody hell are they now?”

  “I wish I knew, Mister Villers. And between you and I, that ship has maneuvered to make good its attack. I want no talk on the ship of magic tricks, miracles, and disappearing acts. I’ll want to see every member of the morning watch in my cabin after this is over.”

  “As you wish, sir.”

  Tovey wanted to keep a lid on what had happened to the Russian ship. Kirov had been there, right in the vanguard of his small formation, not half a mile on. Then, when he turned his head to look again, there was little more than a cold wisp of fog that quickly dissipated on the light morning breeze.

  The Admiral knew at that moment, with a sinking feeling, that something had happened. The ship had a habit of bouncing about. Something deep within him grasped that, an inner recollection that he knew was his, yet one he also realized he had never lived in this world. It was as if he was now being haunted by some unseen duplicate of himself, a strange Doppelganger who had made the acquaintance of this Russian ship and crew long before Tovey ever set eyes on it in this world. Then again… the old memory returned to him, from his days with the China Squadron as a young Lieutenant. He had seen this ship before, and he was certain of that now. In fact, his first order upon taking command of King Albert when its Captain had been felled on the weather bridge, had been to turn every gun he had on the demon, rushing in, just as he was now, to the fire and shock of a battle at sea.

  The shouting voices still echoed in his mind from that distant memory…

  “Port thirty, and signal all ships to follow!”

  “Port Thirty, aye sir!”

  “Come round to two-seven-zero and set your range!”

  “Sir, coming to two-seven-zero,” the helmsman echoed back.

  “Range 9,000 yards, aye sir, and all guns ready.”

  “Steady… Steady… Commence firing! All ships to fire in turn!”

  He could still feel the vibration on the deck beneath his feet when his own ship trembled again with the impact of yet another enemy shell, this time at the base of the conning tower where it rattled the heavy armor. Yes, he remembered it all now, they had a fire amidships, one funnel sheared off and bleeding smoke, one of his stacked casement guns on the starboard side blasted away, the weather deck gone and the Captain with it, but still he did the one thing that instinct and honor demanded, and drove relentlessly on.

  It was the grandest battle he had ever seen at sea, with all of forty ships or more dashing forward in a wild surge of steel and violence. It was Armageddon and he was right in the middle of it all, thrust into battle with a nemesis that would haunt him the remainder of his long life. One day he would see this ship again, and the strange, unnerving feeling would settle in his gut as he reached for the faded memory of that hour. He would wait, through long decades, unknowing and unaware that this demon before him would return again and again. Once it had been a dire threat, and then the face of his enemy had returned, yet the demon had become a guardian angel.

  The unseen enemies he had fought decades ago had become friends, but just as they vanished from the swirling fire of that battle so long ago, the ship was missing yet again. Where have they gone this time, he wondered? On what grey sea do they find themselves now, and will they ever return?

  He had come to know the Russian Admiral, and the intrepid young Captain Fedorov, so very well. They were not the demons he had first made them out to be, but men of honor, reason, and strong moral fiber. And the coming of their ship had been a godsend this time. If not for their intervention the previous year, Hood may not have survived its first encounter with Admiral Lütjens. And it was equally clear to him that Kirov had been an unflinching bulwark of strength in the Mediterranean as well, bludgeoning the Italians, French, and Germans alike.

  Men from the future, he thought, still shaking his head inwardly. Boxes full of files, photos and reports from the future as well, detailing his intimate involvement with this strange interloper on the high seas. Yet now the ship had vanished again, right in the midst of the engagement that was before him—another battle, another mad rush at sea, and the hard fire and steel of war.

  God go with you…

  It was a silent wish and prayer for his lost comrades, and the sight of that awful mushroom cloud shook him from his reverie, and he returned to the
moment at hand.

  “What is the situation with Captains Patterson and Leach?” he said to Villers when his Flag Lieutenant had returned.

  “We had them about 120 nautical miles out, sir. I have the position in the Flag Plot Room.”

  “And what about Holland?”

  “Another hundred miles behind,” said Villers with a shrug. But the two carriers are coming up fast, and we should get some air support in due course.”

  Tovey was plotting it all out in his mind. Patterson had King George V, with Leach commanding Prince of Wales. Holland was on the Hood, and he had a strong right arm with the newest battleship to enter the fleet, the Duke of York. The two carriers were Ark Royal and Illustrious, racing to the scene behind the forward advance of Patterson’s group. In the long run, he had sufficient power here to prevail, he knew, but in the short run…

  “Things will be dicey at the outset, Mister Villers,” he said. “It will be the two battlecruisers and Invincible, and we must expect to be facing everything the Germans have. If Rodney still has some fight left in her, all the better, but we must plan on going it alone for some hours until the rest of the fleet can come on the scene.”

  “And what about that fleet air defense cruiser?” said Villers.

  “The Argos?” Tovey squinted again, noting the rising swell in the sea, still shadowed by the overweening presence of that distant mushroom cloud. “They’re out there to the east, and may have to fight it out with the others until we can get there.”

 

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