“Sir?” Fedorov did not know what to make of that.
“Just mention it, Fedorov. You will be surprised by his answer, I assure you.”
Fedorov found the Director in the officer’s stateroom, quietly reading a book from the ship’s library, and smoking a pipe.
“There you are, Director,” he said with a smile.
“Ah, Mister Fedorov. I trust your meeting went well.”
“It did, sir, but I have learned something I need to discuss with you, if I am not intruding.”
“Not at all. Have a seat here if you can tolerate my tobacco. A pity it is one bad habit that I never really could shake. Then again, at my age, you do not fret over such things.”
Fedorov was seated, wondering how to begin. He decided to come right to the point. “Director, in our earlier discussions you revealed that our government, the Soviet government at that time, had made the alarming discovery that nuclear detonations disturbed time. Would it be a breach of security for me to ask what was done about that?”
“Oh, it probably would, but I do not think that matters, given the fact that we have all been sailing through the decades here together. You know, I am beginning to settle into this year, 1941, as odd as that may seem. As to your question, yes, once we confirmed these secondary effects after Tsar Bomba went off, a program was developed to test this further. In fact, that was the real reason there were so many tests in those years. We wanted to know how pronounced these effects were, what amount of force was required, and what might be moved.”
“And the Americans?”
“They were also involved, and even before we were! We do not know the full extent of what they learned, but we knew they had discovered the effect as well. There were all sorts of tests in those days, atmospheric and high altitude exoatmospheric tests in space revealed the EMP effect. Underground tests in tunnels and bore holes were also common. Then there were salvo tests to see what might happen if we ever did use multiple weapons on each other. I suppose the idea was to see how much abuse the world could take when we start tearing apart and destroying the fundamental particles of the universe. No one dreamed it might disturb the fourth dimension, as well as the other three that shape the contours of this world. But we learned. Things happened. Things disappeared, then reappeared weeks later, sometimes years later. That was when we realized they had moved in time. So how much mass might fall prey to these effects, we wondered? Then we recalled those underwater tests conducted by the Americans, and became very curious. It occurred to us that some of those nice little shows they put on in the Pacific were all intended to test one very interesting thing.”
“What was that, sir?”
“We believe they were trying to see if they could move something as massive as a warship.”
“Through time?”
“Precisely. Gives one a chill, doesn’t it? It’s a trick your ship manages quite easily, but that was not supposed to occur until 2021. Yet the Americans were testing this prospect with their Castle Bravo test off Namu Island, in the Bikini Atoll, and that was in 1954. Some say they were testing as early as 1946 in their Operation Crossroads detonations.”
“Yes,” said Fedorov, aware of that test. “That was where the carrier Saratoga died. It was anchored there, and was swamped by a 100 foot wave. A Fuso class Japanese battleship was also anchored for that test, the Nagato, and the American battleship Arkansas.”
“You are certainly very knowledgeable when it comes to naval history,” said Kamenski.
“But I don’t understand,” said Fedorov. “Are you suggesting they had foreknowledge of what would happen to Kirov?”
Kamenski smiled. “It certainly seems that way. Don’t forget that the Americans witnessed a detonation like that first hand in the north Atlantic, and a ship they had been pursuing with the British suddenly vanished, along with a flotilla of their own destroyers. Things like that can get people very curious, particularly when the destroyers show up twelve days later with quite a tale to tell.”
“I had not heard about this,” said Fedorov excitedly. “You are referring to Desron 7, but I never knew what had happened to those ships.”
“They vanished,” said Kamenski, “then sailed into Argentia Bay twelve days later. Oh, the Americans tried to cover that up. They renumbered the ships, dispersed the crews, and buried the matter, because they had already told the public those brave sailors had sunk the raider they were pursuing—your ship, Mister Fedorov. So yes, they must have been very alarmed to hear what those destroyer Captains told them. Perhaps, after they finally developed their atomic bomb, they were testing to see if ships might vanish like that. Then again, it might have been a simple test to see how a fleet would fare at sea if attacked by nuclear weapons. Who can really know? Well, that was my business throughout most of my life. I was one of the men who were supposed to know these things.” He gave Fedorov a penetrating look with that, almost as though he were trying to size the man up, gauge him in some way. Then Fedorov said something that surprised him, and brought a knowing smile to his lips.
“Director Kamenski… The Americans did not witness that nuclear explosion in the North Atlantic in our history, yet they clearly conducted these tests. So how could they know anything might happen to Kirov? Unless… let me ask you this. Did we have foreknowledge that one of our ships would go missing in this way?”
Chapter 9
“A most interesting question,” said Kamenski. “If by ‘we’ you mean the Soviet government, then I think not. But there are many things the intelligence services find out that never come to the awareness of the central government. This is true in most countries, yes? Don’t the Americans refer to a kind of Shadow Government that lurks behind the facade of their so called democracy over there? We had such shadows as well. I was one of those shadows, and so let me rephrase your question. Did I have foreknowledge that one of our ships would go missing in time? Well, I certainly had my suspicions, Mister Fedorov. In fact, I have been watching this ship of yours for some time, and you already know through your discussion with Admiral Tovey, that other men were watching for Kirov as well.”
“You mean the organization that Tovey founded, the Watch?”
“Exactly. Well, it may not surprise you to learn that we found out about that as well. Secrets are very difficult to keep over the years. We didn’t know exactly what the British and Americans were up to, but we realized that it had something to do with time. You see, their own testing of these strange effects preceded ours. Ivy Mike took place in 1952, and Castle Bravo in 1954, but we did not learn definitively that time displacement was possible until our big Tsar Bomba test of 1961. It was only then that we realized the full implications of what the British and Americans had been doing. But that only confirmed a suspicion I have held about your ship for a very long time.”
“You mean you suspected Kirov had moved in time?”
“I did, and I was sleuthing the history for hard evidence of that.”
“But why, Director? Why did you suspect this?”
“Because that magic wand of yours, Rod-25, changed things, Mister Fedorov. But I remember how they once used to be. Yes… I remember it all very well.”
Kamenski’s assertion was most alarming. Fedorov did not know what to make of it at first, until he thought deeply for a moment, realizing that this Director Kamenski was a man they had encountered after their return from their sojourn in the Pacific. He had been enmeshed in the mystery of Kirov by Inspector General Kapustin, who had used him as a sounding board for the evidence he was digging up concerning Kirov. Yet that world was subtly altered. Men aboard the ship found that out the hard way, when they went ashore to see expected loved ones, and found strangers living in their homes! One crewman was so distraught over what he had discovered, that he committed suicide… Just like so many in the crew of the cruiser Tone.
Was Kamenski altered with the changing of that world? Was he the same Director Kamenski that might have existed before Kirov ever left Severo
morsk? He seemed to be saying that he had been able to perceive the subtle changes introduced in the course of events. Yet how was this possible? Wouldn’t he have changed right along with everything else. He asked Kamenski about this.
“Sir, how could you know anything changed?”
“Because I could still remember the world as it once was,” said Kamenski flatly. “I went over this with Admiral Volsky once. You can remember Pearl Harbor, yes?”
“Of course,” said Fedorov.
“But yet you realize that your intervention after that first displacement, the use of an atomic weapon in the North Atlantic, caused the United States to enter the war early. You know both entry dates. In the same way, I know several versions of the history, and I have watched it change in my history books for some time. Yes! The books change, Mister Fedorov. But this old head seems immune.”
So Kamenski remembered things from other time meridians, thought Fedorov. Just like Admiral Tovey seems to be haunted by memories of his interaction with Kirov in 1942. I wonder how this is possible? Yet I remember things from the world we first came from easily enough. I remember having that last breakfast on shore leave at Severomorsk before we left for those live fire exercises—something that may never happen now that we have twisted these events so badly.
“Yes,” said Kamenski. “I thought retirement would be a nice quiet time with my books, good wine and tea, and a little gardening—but look at me now!”
Fedorov suddenly remembered what Admiral Volsky had asked him to mention. “Director,” he said. “The Admiral asked me to enquire as to how your garden was doing… Something about gophers?”
At that Kamenski smiled. “Ah, that was a metaphor I used to try and describe this business with Karpov to the Admiral. Gophers can be very persistent little devils. You see their effects on the surface of your lawn or garden, then dig down to try and expose their tunnel and set your traps. Unfortunately, by that time they have most likely riddled your lawn with even deeper tunnel networks, and your traps will fail.”
“I see,” said Fedorov. “Then Karpov was the gopher?”
“You might think of him that way. We thought he was up to his mischief in 1945, in fact, I read about it in my history books! Then it turns out that he had dug himself an even deeper tunnel, all the way to 1908. That took a good bit of digging to root him out. Now we look and see he is still here.”
“Yes,” said Fedorov, “and still up to no good, if I know the man. But what has this to do with our discussion?”
“The tunnels, the little gopher holes in time,” Kamenski explained. “Karpov is not the only little devil in the garden.”
“I suppose not,” said Fedorov. “I’ve been rooting around in the history myself.”
“And with every good intention,” Kamenski wagged a finger at him. “So don’t go moping about how all of this is your fault again.”
“But it is, sir. I’m responsible. I was the one who warned Sergei Kirov about his own assassination.”
“Yes, we’ve had this discussion,” said Kamenski quickly. “Don’t forget that it was Kirov’s finger on the trigger that killed Josef Stalin, not yours. He was a willful agent, a Prime Mover. He might have decided otherwise, but he didn’t. You see? If he had allowed Stalin to live, then you could not shoulder the blame, could you? So don’t try to carry it now. It was Kirov’s choice. Never forget that. Now, as to those gopher holes I mentioned, you have found one at Ilanskiy. Yes? Well Mister Fedorov, there are others. This is the sum of what Miss Fairchild revealed to you. Correct?”
“Apparently so, sir.”
“Yes, there are others, all possibly created from that event the world endured at Tunguska. This is the theory we came to in some very select circles within the intelligence community.”
“She revealed something very strange, sir—a key that opened the heavy machined doorway in the passage hidden beneath Delphi, and then activated the device she found there. That was how Argos Fire moved in time, or so I finally learned.”
“I understand,” said Kamenski. “A key you say? Would it look anything like this?” Now Kamenski reached into his pocket and produced a key, and Fedorov’s eyes widened when he saw it looked identical to the one Fairchild had shown them.
“Yes, Miss Fairchild is a Keyholder,” said Kamenski, “and now you will learn that I am a Keyholder as well. Seeing is believing.”
Fedorov was flabbergasted. “You sir? A Keyholder? Miss Fairchild said nothing about this! How is it possible?”
“She said nothing about it because she simply didn’t know. The Keyholders are a very select group, yet they do not even know who else may hold a key, or how many there may be. You are the only other person on this earth who now knows that I possess this key. I was about to tell Admiral Volsky once, when the two of us were huddled in the command bunkers beneath Naval Headquarters at Fokino. We were discussing a good many things, and waiting on the outcome of your mission to the Caspian.”
“How did you find it, sir?”
“A very long story, Mister Fedorov. Suffice it to say we acquired it. Intelligence services collect more than information, you know.”
“I see…” As the shock subsided, Fedorov suddenly realized something about this revelation. “But sir,” he said. “I was under the impression that these Keyholders were all members of the group Admiral Tovey founded—the Watch.”
“Interesting. Miss Fairchild told you that?”
“She implied it—or perhaps I jumped to that conclusion. I was about to tell you one other thing she revealed sir. She said that she had been designated as Keyholder Alpha, the keeper of the keys, as she described it. She was very keen on the fact that these keys are crucial, as they all seem to be related to another rift in time that has been carefully secured. One was obviously there at the Shrine of Delphi, and she said there were others, just as you have confirmed. Each key has information machined on the shaft that can reveal the locations of these time rifts, and they must all be found. She was very insistent about that. In fact, that’s what I came to discuss with you. We are out chasing after Admiral Lütjens on the Hindenburg, but Miss Fairchild has interjected something that may have a big impact on our mission.”
“Indeed? What is that, Mister Fedorov?”
“One of the other known keys was found embedded in the base of the Selene Horse—an artifact that was part of the Elgin Marbles. It was being shipped to Boston for safekeeping aboard the battleship Rodney, and that ship is at sea, with that cargo in her hold, at this very moment!”
“Yes, that is very interesting,” said Kamenski. “Here it is, May of 1941, the very month that key went missing.”
That struck Fedorov again, and he gave the Director a perplexed look. “Then you knew about this sir? You knew the key was aboard Rodney, and that it disappeared during her engagement with the Bismarck?”
Kamenski took a long puff on his pipe, exhaling as he thought for a moment. “The short answer is yes. I knew the British had possession of another key, and that it went missing. We eventually narrowed it down to this incident with Bismarck. Others knew about it as well, and it has been sought, very ardently, for decades, but never found.”
“Well it’s right here, sir! Admiral Tovey is going to arrange a meeting with HMS Rodney at sea. We can go and inspect that cargo ourselves—or perhaps Miss Fairchild will. I suppose this is more her business than mine, though I’m very curious about all of this.”
“Stay curious, Fedorov. That’s what I like about you. Never be afraid to ask the big questions. I could see you had a keen mind for this time displacement business long ago. That is why I teased you with that bit about the assassination date of Sergei Kirov changing. Did you ever give that further thought?”
Fedorov remembered that now. One telling of those events held the date was December 1st, and yet others swore it was on the 30th of that month. It all came tumbling back in his mind now, an avalanche of realization. He could hear Kamenski’s voice in his recollection, when the
man had first challenged him with this oddity. “It may interest you to know that he was assassinated on December 1st, and not on the 30th. That was the way it happened the first time. Then things changed….
“Just a moment, Director.” Fedorov could hear his own voice raising an obvious objection. “It’s clear to me that we caused the Americans to enter the war early, yet I would have told anyone that Kirov was assassinated on the 30th even before we left Severomorsk.”
Admiral Volsky had remembered that same date, and the two of them had just stared at Kamenski, waiting.
“Yes, and many others will have that date in their heads,” Kamenski had said. “But this old head remembers it on the 1st of December. A few of the Party elite would celebrate it quietly, behind closed doors. I have drunk many a toast to Sergei Kirov on that day. But the people I can raise a glass with are now few and far between.”
Fedorov remembered the astounding conclusion that provoked. “But that would mean … Well that would mean something happened to change the history even before Kirov left Severomorsk!”
“You are very astute, my young man. Yes. That is exactly what it would mean. There may be only a small handful of people who know what you have just concluded—and know it to be a fact and not mere speculation. I happen to be one of them, and I have lived with that knowledge for a very long time…”
“Simply because of the slight difference between those two assassination dates?” asked Fedorov.
“It seems a small thing, but small things lead to big things, Mister Fedorov. If you have ever worked in a garden, you know this to be true. So if you and I recall different dates for that event, it is either evidence one of us is mistaken, or else it is equally clear evidence that the history has changed. This, I can now confirm. The world has been changing quite a bit, and for a good long time. I’ve been reading about it in my books. You thought it all began with the sailing of your ship from Severomorsk, and that accident with Orel, but that is not the case. And you correctly concluded this earlier, that the world you were born to was an altered state of affairs. It was not the Prime Meridian. No. There you were, living your life, not knowing any of this, but now you learn the truth, now you do remember things have changed. I was once in your shoes, Fedorov. I once had to solve the mystery of why my history books kept being edited, and then I became very interested in what may have happened to your ship. Now I know to a certainty.”
Paradox Hour Page 8
