“Well said, Admiral. But the answer to that question should be apparent to you. I know these things because I, too, have moved in time.”
“You?”
“Yes, and it is a very long story. I told you something of it when I discussed the odd effects we discovered with our nuclear test program, if you recall that.”
“You mean the men who went missing, like our crew member vanished at the Primorsky Engineering center?”
“Something like that, though he was sent on his way by Rod-25, just like your Mister Fedorov and all the men on the Anatoly Alexandrov you sent back to fetch him home. Yes, we discovered some very odd things with those nuclear tests. The most shocking thing was that time travel was possible. It was kept very secret, of course, but we have been working on it, unbeknownst to the central government, and much has been done over the years. Only a very few men will know the whole story. I was one of them, being involved in intelligence my entire career.”
“How did you move in time? You must tell me.” Volsky was very interested now, leaning forward over the copy of the book Kamenski had given him, his big eyes searching the other man’s face.
“It’s too long a story to go into it all now. But suffice it to say that some of the ships and planes that have turned up missing over the years were not lost in accidents at sea or because their compass failed them as they searched in vain for a friendly airfield. All this has been kept very quiet, of course; very secret. And only those who actually do move in time really know about it. You are a new member of that very exclusive club, Admiral, which is why I take the liberty of revealing these things to you now.”
The ticking of the clock on the wall was the only thing to break the silence, its unfailing round marking off the seconds of that impossible minute. “This happened in the old world? The World I left at Severomorsk?”
“It did…”
“Then it was possible that world had been altered as well. What did these other ships and planes do, eh? Did they affect the history just as Kirov did?”
“In some ways. Yes, we actually tried to do this, but with very mixed results. Most simply thought nothing had happened. They didn’t know, you see, but I did. I took the time to study the history after each and every experiment, and I had a good number of references I could consult to see what might have changed. I knew things were happening, even if most of the project team itself was in the dark because they never displaced in time. So they still believed the world was the same as the one they were born to, yet I knew different. I knew the real truth. Believe me, Admiral, this can be a very heavy burden to carry. Kirov, however, was not planned. We had no idea that Rod-25 would cause such effects. It was an entirely unexpected event.”
“My God… then the world I came from—”
“Yes, it has changed many times, but in all those events you were one of the unknowing who changed right along with it, and were never the wiser—just like your Mister Talanov. After you displaced in time aboard Kirov, however, you fell into the void, the nexus point where every possible outcome of events intersect to choose a final course and destiny. Once you fall, Admiral, you are there to stay. You have been thrown out of paradise and now you have the privilege of knowing, or the burden, depending on how you look at it. This is why you now know the world has been changed when you read things like that book—because you still remember the old world you came from, and the world before you sent the Red Banner Pacific Fleet out to challenge the Americans—before your Mister Karpov did what you just read in that book.”
“Amazing…I …I don’t know what to say.”
“As I said earlier, you have been too busy trying to manage this new war to have paid any attention to how the last one turned out. Now you know, and if you were to investigate further in a good library, you would find out a great many things have changed. I don’t know which is the unkindest fate—to live in a world of unknowing where ignorance is bliss and the world under your feet seems solid and sure, or to taste of the forbidden fruit of knowledge, and yet never have the peace of certainty. I have made it a point to consult my references each and every day, Admiral, and I must tell you that much has changed over the years. More than we have discussed here.”
“It is enough to drive a man mad.”
“I felt the same way when all this first dawned on me. In fact, I believed I was going insane at one point. Then I found out what was really happening. It has been my lifelong business to know what really happens in this world. Very few men alive know the real truth of many events reported as history in all those library books.”
“So Kirov was sunk along with Orlan. And the destroyer the American battleship hit must have been the Admiral Golovko. God go with them. That was a good ship and crew.”
“Was it sunk, Admiral? Is that what the passage says there?”
Volsky looked again, and now he saw that the wording was deceptive. The passage read that during the Russian occupation of the Kuriles, a small task force of the Russian Pacific Fleet armed with advanced new weapons deliberately attacked US ships and planes and was subsequently engaged by the US Third Fleet under Admiral Halsey. In that battle the Russians successfully deployed a small yield atomic weapon to destroy the battleship Iowa, possibly as a threat intended to get the US to back down over Soviet aspirations to occupy the Island of Hokkaido. A large US fleet retaliated by air and sea, hitting another Russian warship which resulted in the detonation of a second bomb. All ships in the Russian flotilla were presumed destroyed.
“Presumed destroyed—it says that right here,” said Volsky.
“A presumption that was easily made under the circumstances. No trace of Orlan or Kirov was ever found, at least not there in 1945 in the waters southeast of the Kuriles. There was some gun camera photography of the final American air strike. It has never been published but I was able to get hold of this photograph.”
Kamenski reached into his pocket and produced a faded photo, handing it to the Admiral, who studied it closely.
“That is Orlan. Note the unitary hull and superstructure. There is no question about it.”
“Well, I’ve had some time to look into it a little further, and I believe that Kirov survived that battle.”
“Survived? In 1945?”
“No, I believe the ship was again displaced in time.”
“Where?”
“That remains to be discovered. I am waiting for more information, but our time grows short here. This war is very inconvenient.”
“How long have you known all this?”
“That the world is uncertain, always changing, liable to take a new and startling new shape at any moment? I have known since the Tsar Bomba event I spoke of earlier. That was in 1961, but I do not think that was the first instance. The interesting new twist on all this is Rod-25, a whole new factor in the equation. This connection to the Tunguska event is most intriguing. That may have been an event capable of producing these same effects where time is concerned. We stumbled on the secret that displacement in time was possible years later, in 1961, but how to control it? That was the real challenge. I only wish we had more time to investigate this Rod-25 business now. Perhaps it was foolish of us to send those other two rods back on the Anatoly Alexandrov. Yet in doing so we may have changed more than we intended.”
Volsky suddenly remembered Fedorov, and wondered if Kamenski knew the fate of that mission as well. “I suppose if Karpov did all this, then that mission was not successful. All his letter did is send us off on a wild goose chase. The idea to use the Mi-26 sounds preposterous now. What about that, Kamenski? Do you know what happened to Fedorov and Dobrynin?”
“To some extent. I can tell you that the Anatoly Alexandrov got back to 1942 safely, just as you planned it. Then things began to happen. Some very unusual things…because I just came from the special code room. We have received another message.”
Chapter 11
They sailed alongside the Empress of China for ten minutes, both sides gawking at
one another through binoculars and telescopes. Yet Karpov saw no reason for any further contact. The steamer had told him what he needed to know, the date and time, and now he realized that the opportunities inherent in this moment were west, in the Sea of Japan, and not the wide Pacific.
“Ahead full,” he said calmly. “We head west now. In fact, I think we may even pay a visit to Vladivostok. Stalin would be a young man in 1908, and of no consequence. The Tsar rules now, but he is very far away. It was a three week journey to St. Petersburg from the Pacific coast. The Siberian railway had only just been completed. So we are in charge of Russia’s fate in the Pacific now, gentlemen.”
“We are in charge sir?” Rodenko raised an eyebrow at that.
“Who better? I intend to reverse the misfortunes suffered at the hands of the Japanese and set us back on our rightful course.”
Again Rodenko hesitated before he spoke. “Is that wise, sir? We could affect the history in ways we cannot yet see if we intervene here.”
“That is precisely the idea, Rodenko. No man can ever foresee the real consequences of his actions. If he tried to do so he would be forever frozen in inaction. If you want to change the world, you have to act. Admittedly, I have sometimes acted badly, but that was only because the challenge was simply too strong for a single ship to overcome. The American navy in 1945 was much bigger than I expected, and much more determined. That will not be the case here. The men of this era are no match for us now. This ship can impose its will on the Pacific and make it stick.”
“What do you intend to do, sir?”
“I believe one error I made in 1945 was not first securing the cooperation and support of our homeland. So I am setting my course for the Golden Horn Harbor at Vladivostok. Kirov is going home again. It may not be the city any of us know and recognize, but it will be home nonetheless. I intend to offer my services to the Tsar as the flagship of Russia’s new Pacific Fleet. With the support of the Russian Army, we will see what we might accomplish.”
“But sir… This is 1908. What if we affect the history that led to the development of the Soviet Union—the history that led to the design of this very ship!”
“If we do so, it will be for the good Rodenko. You have to believe that. There will be no need to resort to extreme measures here as I did before. I am ordering that all nuclear warheads currently mounted on missiles or torpedoes are to be removed and replaced with conventional warheads. They will be placed in secure storage in the magazine.”
“A wise precaution, sir. Then you intend to make Vladivostok our primary base of operations?”
“Initially, but it will have the same problem that prompted Russia to look for warm water ports in Manchuria—ice. That was why Russia was expanding here in the first place. We have always sought access to blue water ports throughout our history, and we have never been successful. That is why we shiver in the ice and snow of Severomorsk and Vladivostok. Admiral Makarov of this era set his sights on Port Arthur, but the Japanese foiled our expansion here in the interest of furthering their own domination of China, and they set us back on our heels. Russia never recovered from the beating she took in the Russo-Japanese War, at least not as a Pacific Power. We never were able to achieve our true and rightful destiny here. All that changes now.”
“But how, sir? What can we do?”
“First we secure the cooperation of our homeland. Then we teach the Japanese a lesson they will not soon forget.”
“The Japanese?”
“Don’t you know the history, Rodenko? Japan’s victory against us opened the door to Manchuria. They will push us out and move right in, and we won’t get back there again until 1945. The Japanese campaign in Manchuria led to the rapid development of their army, and they will built one of the finest navies in the world over the next few decades. This is what leads to their war of expansion in the Pacific, and it took the considerable power of the United States to crush them. I intend to stop them here, now, before they ever get the chance to expand their dreams of a far eastern empire.”
“But sir! We have only twenty-one missiles in the SSM inventory.”
“Correct, but we also have thirty-two S-400s left and a hundred missiles in the Klinok system. The Americans have adapted their RIM-67 Standard Missile 2 as a dual purpose weapon. It can now be used against ships as well as aircraft. They also did this for their RIM-174 ERAM missile, the SM-6. Time to get creative, Rodenko. We can do the same. The Klinok Gauntlet missile is effective for target heights as low as ten meters. Yes, it has only a 15 kilogram fragmentation warhead, but it could prove very useful against small craft or even coastal targets, and it will outrange most naval guns of this era as well. Don’t forget our deck guns either. We have 3000 rounds for the 152mm guns, correct Samsonov?”
“Yes sir. Plenty of ammunition for that system.”
“That and a thousand rounds for the 100mm bow gun.”
“But don’t they have battleships, sir? Look what it took to hurt the American ship just now. The Japanese were able to smash our entire fleet in 1905.”
“Yes, they call them battleships, but have a look here. Mister Fedorov left quite a few of his old naval books at the navigation station and I have taken the liberty of looking up some data. These are nothing like the ships we faced in WWII. The Japanese Admiral Togo’s flagship at the Battle of Tsushima was the Mikasa. Look for yourself, Mister Rodenko. The ship is half our size in both displacement and length. It has four 12 inch guns that can range out to 18,000 meters, and fourteen 6 inch secondary batteries. Those are irrelevant, because we will never let them get within gun range. Mikasa’s guns normally fired at no more than 15,000 meters or less. The ship can make only 18 knots. We can sail rings around anything the Japanese Navy has, and pound them with our deck guns from as far as 28,000 meters. They can’t catch us, or hit us with anything they have. True, our 152mm guns will not be as heavy as those of the enemy, but they will hurt these old ships, that I’ll guarantee. In special circumstances we can use a Moskit-II or MOS-III for a decisive moment to decide the issue. And don’t forget the Vodopad torpedo mounts. They range out 56,000 meters. How many torpedoes do we have, Mister Samsonov?”
“Sir, we have a standard load of ten Vodopad torpedoes and six more UGST torpedoes available for the KA-40 helo.”
“There,” Karpov smiled. “Put a single torpedo into the gut of one of these old ships and that will be all it takes. Why, we could sink all their battleships with our torpedoes alone!”
Karpov ran his finger down the pages of one of Fedorov’s books, and then turned, addressing the entire bridge crew. “Listen to this, gentlemen. Here is a passage from one of Fedorov’s books. It presents the Japanese view of the Russian Navy in the Russo-Japanese war.” He began to read, looking up from time to time to note the reaction of the men.
“The Russians are very brave—very brave. But not many are good, and they are savages. They can be very polite when it suits them, but Russian sailors are miserable people who lie on the snow, and have very little money, which they spend in buying cheap fish. They are dirty. That is all we know of Russian sailors, who are quite strange people to us. But we have no fear as to the result of a war with the Polar Bear.”
He gave the men a long, searching look. “Hear that, men?”
“He’s right about the money and fish, sir,” said Nikolin, and the whole bridge crew laughed.
“Yes, but we’ll see about raising your salary, Mister Nikolin, so you can afford a little caviar. In spite of what this man wrote of us, we are now the most powerful men on this earth. Mister Rodenko, we have sufficient conventional ordnance to smash the entire Japanese fleet, and that is what I intend to do should they challenge us at sea. But first—Vladivostok. We’ll announce ourselves and see what kind of reception we get. Then we will see about Port Arthur and the Japanese, and we will soon teach them that this Polar Bear has sharp new teeth!”
* * *
It’s name meant “Ruler of the East.” The city was a bustling
frontier town at the very end of the world, as most Europeans might regard it. Its coat of arms, the famous Siberian Tiger, reflected its wild and sometimes fierce nature. Founded in 1860 as a military outpost by about 7,500 people, it had grown to a City of just over 90,000 by 1908. In many ways Russia’s defeat in the war of 1904-05 had led to its rapid development, along with the continuation of the Siberian Rail project. The loss of Port Arthur returned the city to preeminence by default, as Russia had no other suitable Pacific port.
Vladivostok was a wild mix of many cultures and ethnicities—European civility rooting itself in the central quarter, fringed by muddy streets, brothels, bars and gaming establishments, and bordered by the Oriental quarter, Millionka, which was home to numerous Chinese, Japanese and Korean immigrants. Crime was rampant there among the opium dens, and drug lords held sway in whole neighborhoods where at times they would amuse themselves in a game that sought to discover how long a man could remain alive while hanging from a rope by his neck. The First River Penal center north of the city center was never lacking for new arrivals.
Even in the main European district along Svetlanskaya Street by the harbor quays the atmosphere was that of a devil may care frontier town, where entertainment offered by a troupe of dancing gypsies often began at midnight in the favorite Pacific Ocean Theater, and carried on into the early morning hours. Here was found the Imperial Bank, Lutheran Church, Museum, Oriental Institute, Post Office and the Upenski Cathedral, yet these staid institutions could not impose but the barest patina of civility on the place. It was still a den of thieves, gamblers, adventurers, frontiersmen, and indigent sailors, with enough cafes, restaurants, cinemas and gaming houses to keep them all well occupied. It was an outpost of debauchery at the end of two thousand miles of iron rails that scratched their way through the wilderness of Siberia. It was at once the terminal end of that long overland passage, as well as the place of new beginnings that was at the heart of every frontier.
Kirov Saga: Devil's Garden (Kirov Series) Page 9
