Nemesis

by John Schettler

  Yet that is what Karpov now promises me, that refuge in the east. He would send me men, oil, and also provide land and resources, a safe haven for the factories I may soon have to move out of harm’s way. I’ve already lost Minsk and Kiev, and all their industry. What to do here? I feel like the man with an angel on one shoulder and the Devil on the other. Which one should I listen to?

  Chapter 3

  Karpov could see the hesitation in Kirov’s eyes, undoubtedly born of the poison Volsky poured into his ear. He doesn’t really trust me, he knew, but he also knows he’s in bed with Siberia, one way or the other. Yes. He knows he must work with me, because I have one more thing, one more card to play here, and now is the time.

  “Very well,” said Karpov. “Damn Volkov to hell. You have called me the Devil, Mister General Secretary, but I may turn out to be an Archangel instead. Volkov, however, has already proven his ilk. He’s a traitor, openly allied with the real Devil on this earth now, Adolf Hitler, but that we can also change, and it may only take a single machinegun squad to do so….” He smiled, seeing the confusion on Kirov’s face.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Yes you do,” said Karpov quickly. “Ilanskiy.”

  It was all he had to say, that one word, that one little hamlet in the middle of nowhere, that lonesome little railway inn. Ilanskiy. It sat there, the wood of that newly built stairway being smoothed and softened by the sandpaper of his engineers even as they spoke. Ilanskiy, the key to the entire problem of Orenburg, and the demise of Ivan Volkov with one simple excursion up those stairs.

  “Before Volsky and Fedorov hatched that little plan to borrow an airship and try to demolish that place,” Karpov began, “I took a little trip up those stairs myself. In fact, I got home again, and I saw the misery our nation was again to suffer at the hands of the Americans. Those weapons you are worried about? Well they finally turned them on our homeland. I saw the fire and destruction with my own eyes, just as you saw what Stalin would do when you went up those stairs from 1908. You could not live with that, could you? And I cannot live with what I saw either.”

  “You speak of the war in your time now?”

  “Yes, the war that is at the end of that long feud between Russia and the West. Oh, the Chinese get in on the affair as well. In fact, that’s where it started—in the Pacific, a squabble over oil rights beneath an insignificant speck of rock. The Japanese wanted it on one side, backed by the Americans, and the Chinese wanted it on the other side, backed by us. Push comes to shove, and the rockets eventually take wing, only this time they all have warheads on them that make those used by the Americans at Hiroshima and Nagasaki look puny by comparison. In our day, Kirov, we have rockets that can fly from here all the way to the heartland of America, and they have the same—thousands of them. They can carry not one, but as many as ten of those warheads, and that is just one side of the strategic triangle of death each nation builds. The bombers have them, and the submarines…”

  “Madness,” said Kirov, trying to visualize the terror at the heart of what Karpov was telling him now.

  “Yes, it was madness. The Americans are working on them even now, in a secret program based in their southwest deserts. The British and Germans are working on them, and I have no doubt you are working on them as well. Let me tell you, there is no end to that madness, except what I saw when I went up those stairs.”

  “Volsky and Fedorov have been trying to prevent that,” said Kirov. “They believe they can rewrite the history that follows this war, and make peace with the West.”

  “They are sorely mistaken,” said Karpov. “Stalin was probably not the man to get things off on the right foot when this war ended, but let me tell you something you can read about in those books you might have hidden away somewhere. It was called the Atlantic Charter—a secret meeting between Churchill and Roosevelt that took place this very week, just a few days from now. I learned of that from one of Fedorov’s books myself, and thought I might attend. In fact, this meeting may still be planned, and I am willing to bet you will not receive an invitation. It starts there, Kirov, right there. Think about it! Volsky has been very chummy with the Royal Navy of late. Do you think they may now know where that ship really came from—that Churchill might know it as well? So what do you suppose he will be off to talk with Roosevelt about?”

  Kirov nodded, realizing that this was most likely true. Surely the British knew the truth about that ship, and they would probably tell the Americans.

  “And what was Volsky doing with that ship? Was he fighting for Mother Russia, or Great Britain?” Karpov pressed his advantage, knowing he had to resolve this issue once and for all with Kirov. “Did he propose to save the Crimea for you, or give you back all our far eastern provinces? Of course not. Volsky is too spineless to do any of that. He equivocates, along with Fedorov, always worrying about the history, instead of having the balls to get out there and shape that history himself, just as you did when you pulled that trigger and spared the world the wrath of Josef Stalin.”

  In this, Karpov’s words found fertile ground, for Kirov was a man of action, and not afraid to take strong measures to further his aims, and those of the Soviet State.

  “So Volsky and Fedorov will not be rewriting anything,” Karpov went on. “They don’t have what it takes. They don’t see what I have seen, the sad end of the Soviet Union, and the twenty years I lived through after it fell, until Vladimir Putin started piecing the broken china back together. Then, when they couldn’t hem and haw and talk us out of what was rightfully ours, the economic sanctions came, and after that, they began sending their Armored Cavalry regiments back to Europe. And one thing led to another—tick tock, just like the pendulum on that grandfather clock there. Face reality, that is all I do each day. The United States thought they could enforce their Pax Americana on the whole world after this war, and they largely did so, until the oil wars started. That’s what the next one is all about. In many ways it is what this one is about. Why do you think Hitler is so strong in the south this time. He needs the oil, and when he gets it, he’ll use it to destroy you, and the Soviet State you built as well. That’s the bargain that Devil offers you.”

  “True enough,” said Kirov, a sullen and dejected tone to his voice now.

  “Of course it’s true, and Ivan Volkov is the real reason the Germans will get what they come for. They nearly got all the way to Baku, as you well know, and that was without any Orenburg Federation in the mix. This time, they will take everything. Volkov thinks he can strike his own bargain with the Devil, but he is sorely mistaken. Once Hitler gets what he wants, he will finish us first, and then deal with Volkov after the war. You know this, Kirov. It’s what you have feared all along. And what plan did Volsky and Fedorov offer you to cure that? To sail about with the Royal Navy and make friends with Churchill? That took no real effort. Britain befriends you now because it must. Its own survival is at stake, but after the war, they run with America, and you get left out in the cold. They are planning that first meeting right now—their little Atlantic Charter, and neither of us are invited.”

  “Atlantic Charter?” said Kirov. “Yes, I am aware of this.”

  “Good. I know about your Red Archive, Mister General Secretary. My man Tyrenkov is also very good. Read up, and if you want any more evidence of the future they have planned, I can provide it. I have a little Red Archive of my own, and one thing more—I have Ilanskiy.”

  Kirov looked at him for some time. “So that is what you mean when you said you could settle things with a single machinegun squad.”

  “Exactly. You see, I took another trip up those stairs. In fact, I sent Tyrenkov up on a little reconnaissance mission recently.”

  “But I thought that railway inn was demolished,” said Kirov.

  “Don’t be coy, Kirov. You know damn well I’ve been rebuilding it, and it is now as good as new.”

  “Then you’ve already tested it? You sent your intelligence Chief up those stairs?”
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  “Not from here. Not from 1941. There are other things I need to tell you, and one of them may be the very reason I am still alive. That airship out there can take me more places than you might imagine. But let’s make a long story short. You already know that I was in 1908 at one time—a most decisive year. You knew that when you had the boldness and strength to eliminate Stalin before he got rooted. Yes, you plucked out that weed in good time, and in spite of the long civil war, things might have been much worse if Stalin had lived. It was Volkov that unhinged all your plans. He was the one man who was able to effectively oppose you, particularly after he took over the White Movement. Volkov! Well we can get rid of him easily enough, and we won’t have to use a hundred rifle divisions to do so. A single machinegun squad can do the job, and we can change everything—I can change it. I have that power.”

  Karpov let his fist rattle the teacups on the table for good emphasis, shaking the nicely styled samovar and the gleaming sterling silverware. Kirov sat, arms folded, realizing that this man did indeed have power far beyond that which he had already pledged. As if he had read the General Secretary’s mind, Karpov said exactly that.

  “So you see, I have much more to offer you than five shock armies, and the oil you need to run this war. I have Ilanskiy, and yes, I can send Tyrenkov back up those stairs and put an end to Volkov before he ever stumbles on that railway inn. We’ve seen him, Kirov.” Karpov leaned forward now, lowering his voice. “Yes, we’ve seen him just as he gets off the damn train, right there in the rail yard with a few of his men, looking for Fedorov in 2021! Do you realize what I can do now, what I can really offer you? Now stack up everything Volsky has done for you. Oh I hear he ran a German raider out of the Kara Sea—big of him. Then he sailed off to fight for the Royal Navy in the Mediterranean.”

  “Can you really do this?” asked Kirov.

  “It would take careful planning, but yes, it can be done.”

  “But what would happen here? What would happen to all the time when I fought with Volkov, struggled with him in the revolution, and then faced him down on the Volga for damn near thirty years?”

  “Poof!” Karpov pinched his fingers, opening them as he spoke. “That all goes away. In fact, you may never even remember that any of it ever happened after I finish my little mission. Everything would change, because I would be introducing a major variation in the history, setting things right, and eliminating Ivan Volkov before he stabs us all in the back.”

  “My god,” Kirov breathed. “I always knew Ilanskiy was a dangerous place, a card in your hand that could possibly trump everything else. Yet, with the onset of the war, and everything I have been dealing with, I have had no time to consider this fully. Would it work Karpov? Would it really do what you say, and rewrite all the history from 1908 until now?”

  “There is only one way to know for sure. You are the one man on this earth who understands the power I now have,” said Karpov. “Yes, you know what I can do, because you have already done it once yourself when you killed Stalin. So now I can kill Volkov, for the both of us, and for Russia. Who knows what that will do? I have thought about it for a very long time, realizing that, in making a change of this magnitude, everything here would change as well. It is frightful, a ghastly power that makes those warheads we spoke of earlier seem feeble, but yet it is already within my grasp. So do not think I want this ship solely for the power it brings me. It is a very useful tool, but I don’t need it to change this world as long as I control Ilanskiy. I suppose I could even settle affairs with the Japanese on that back stairway if I thought about it long enough. It goes both directions, Sergei—to the future and also to the past. Yes, you called me Vladimir, and now I return that liberty, and extend my hand to you again, as a brother, as a soldier for Mother Russia, and as your friend and ally.”

  “Yet could you not eliminate me the very same way?” asked Kirov. “Suppose everything you say is true. Suppose we do this thing. I say we, because given what you have just told me, Ilanskiy is now more important to the future of Russia than Moscow. We could lose Moscow, Leningrad, all the rest, but if Hitler were to ever know what we know now.”

  “And there is one man alive who could tell it to him—Ivan Volkov. Could I eliminate you? Certainly, just as you could order in your Red Guard at this very moment and shoot me where I sit. But you will not do so, will you. No. Because you hear in my words the real truth, and possibly for the very first time. You know that together we can do anything, as long as we trust one another. Kill me, and Tyrenkov takes my place. I have no doubt that he’s already thought about that. If not him, then another. Yet I have no desire to eliminate you—quite the contrary. I see you as the hope of our nation now. Just as you rescued us from the ravages of Stalin, you will be the one to take us through this war, and with me at your side.”

  So very much was on the table now, thought Kirov. “Suppose you do this—eliminate Volkov. What if some other man from the White Movement simply takes his place?”

  “This sort of speculation is useless,” Karpov waved his hand. Yes, we would have to plan for these possibilities, and then work things out accordingly.”

  “Yet you tell me everything could change—that I might not even remember this time, this very meeting. What then?”

  “We can only know by doing,” said Karpov with an air of finality. Yet I can promise you I will not launch this mission heedlessly. You and I must have a good long talk about it later. For now, we have a few other details to iron out.”

  “Well…” said Kirov with a smile. “We have come a very long way since you asked me for those two airships.”

  “A long way indeed, but it is a journey that is only just beginning for us. So now you know the last of what I offer you—Ilanskiy. Yet having seen the world I came from, I have no desire to ever return there. I want to stay here, finish this business, and then see if I can help shape those crucial years after this damn war…. So I want my ship. It can give us a lot of clout in the Pacific, or anywhere else we choose. Without it we may never get Vladivostok back until late 1945. If we open that port sooner, it could be very valuable. But I need that ship. Will you give it to me? In exchange you get your five shock armies, all the oil you need, all the resources, a haven for your factories. Then you and I plan how and when we deal with Volkov. After that, when we see what the world actually looks like without that demon alive, then we shape that world together.”

  It was a dazzling offer, more than Kirov had ever hoped to gain in this meeting. There was only one last reservation in his mind, and he spoke it now, looking closely at Karpov, as if trying to discern whether he had considered the real consequences of what he was now proposing.

  “What if we do this—eliminate Volkov—and things change so radically that we don’t survive? What if something happens that ends up eliminating us both from this reality?”

  Karpov smiled. “And what if the Germans bomb Moscow tonight and we are both killed?” he said glibly. “Yes, anything could happen, even today. No man’s future is ever certain, or really promised by God, the Devil, or time itself. You take each day given to you, and act. You knew what you were doing when you killed Stalin. You knew the magnitude of that change, and yet you had the courage to proceed. Find that courage again now.”

  “You are the Devil, Karpov,” said Kirov. “You are the only man I have ever met who would be willing to do battle with the almighty—with God above!”

  “Only if I thought I could win,” said Karpov with a smile. “So what will it be. Do we have a bargain?”

  Kirov thought, then nodded his head solemnly. “I believe we have an understanding,” he said. “What was that radio call band you said you could give to me? Would it be the same as the one Volsky told me to use?”

  “Then you will agree? You will give me back my ship?”

  “Will your Admiral Volsky cooperate? I want no bloodshed. You have said they betrayed you, but they are brothers in arms. How do you propose to assume command if they should opp
ose you?”

  “Leave that to me.”

  Kirov took a long sip of cold tea, thinking.

  “And what about those wonder weapons aboard? I’m told you used them rather wantonly.”

  “I have learned a few things since I arrived here,” said Karpov. “Having power is one thing. Knowing how and when to use it is another.”

  “Precisely,” said Kirov. “Very well, Karpov. You can have your ship back, but remember one thing—it was built by our nation, and it fights for our cause—understood?”

  “You have my word on that. And as to how I can secure the vessel, I suggest you order it back to Murmansk. I can tell you exactly how to send the message. It will need to use an exact protocol, and it must end with a specific code word that I will give you. I can format the message for you myself. They will decode it and know what it means. I will handle everything else. And now, since I think we have finished here, shall we get rid of this tea and find a good bottle of vodka?”

  Kirov smiled.

  Part II

  The Mole

  “Does the Eagle know what is in the pit Or wilt thou go ask the Mole? Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod, / Or Love in a golden bowl?”

  ― William Blake

  Chapter 4

  The situation has finally come to a place where I might get a handle on it, thought Fedorov as he settled into the chair in the briefing room aboard Kirov. There, across the table from him, sat the Captain, his eyes serious, still somewhat irritated, and impatience obvious on his face.