Kirov Saga: Darkest Hour: Altered States - Volume II (Kirov Series)

by Schettler, John

“That remains to be seen. It is likely that station will be little used. From what I have been able to determine the Trans-Siberian rail is not well served these days.”

  “It seems this mission is best suited for a quick in and out.”

  “I know, sir. That may end up being our only option. What we could do is see if Troyak can do a reconnaissance down those stairs, and then report back on the general situation he finds there. We know he is likely to arrive sometime after 7:14 in the morning on the 30th of June, 1908.”

  “How can you know this?”

  “That is the time of the Tunguska impact, Admiral, and I believe that is what caused this fissure in time. I discussed this with Director Kamenski and he agrees. Whatever caused that detonation, it had some exotic material in it that breaches time, particularly in a nuclear environment.”

  “So you think Troyak can go there, have a quick look around and then scoot back up? What if he finds himself having breakfast with Mironov again? Something tells me finding Volkov will not be so easy as we might hope. My inclination is to simply destroy the inn and be done with it.”

  “Then we lose any option of reversing what Volkov did.”

  “True, but sometimes you must close a door in life, Fedorov. Close the breach and end the matter. Then we play with the hand we have been dealt, and no one goes back to 1908 again. That seems to be a very critical juncture in the history. Karpov sinks a few of Admiral Togo’s old ships, and we lose Vladivostok and all the eastern provinces. You are there for just a few minutes and look what has happened! Then Volkov… No. That stairway is dangerous, and I think it must be destroyed, just as you first said.”

  “We can do that, but we may not be able to close the time breach, sir. All we will be doing is destroying access to it. That stairway just happens to be precisely positioned along the line of the breach, right down to the number of steps and the exact angle of ascent or descent. It was just happenstance, but there it is. Kamenski says this is not the only instance. There are others, but that was all I could get out of him. We may be able to close the easy access to this one, unless someone can rebuild that inn exactly as it was, in exactly the same place. This is why I’m sending along a good demolition squad. I think we’ll have to blow that inn to a million pieces. That way, putting the puzzle back together again may be next to impossible.”

  “Fedorov… I know you would dearly love to see Troyak get hold of Volkov by the ear and drag him here, but it may not be possible. I will keep the option open pending the mission team’s initial report. Then we will decide. For now, however, this mission is a search and destroy.”

  “I understand, sir.” Fedorov had a grave expression on his face, fully appreciating the danger ahead.

  Chapter 29

  August 1, 1940

  Fedorov was standing on the weather bridge, and he could not resist the urge to wave the mission on, raising his arm to the massive hulk of the zeppelin overhead as it slowly ascended, pumping his fist. They were on their way.

  The ship had returned at high speed to Severomorsk, and the Narva was waiting there for them, hovering over the scene and tethered to a large mooring tower. It was every bit as big as the ship, nearly as long and much wider abeam, its shadow darkening the harbor as it waited. Admiral Golovko had been elated by the news that Kirov had done the job and forced the Germans to pay for their incursion.

  “I do not know how you managed it,” he said gratefully, “but we are in your debt. Narva is yours, and any other resource we can provide.”

  Sergeant Troyak had selected the men and established three teams. He would lead the first assault team, and for this he chose his toughest and most experienced Marines. Zykov would lead the support and holding team, reinforcing the position after Troyak gained entry. The third team would remain as a reserve aboard the Narva, the extraction and support group, and it would be led by Operations Chief Orlov. There were seven men in each group from the Marine detachment, including Orlov.

  “How do you feel about the mission,” Fedorov had asked.

  “Back to Siberia, sir. It will feel like home.” Kandemir Troyak, was a Siberian Eskimo from the Chukchi Peninsula in the far east. He was a short, broad shouldered man, very stocky, yet all muscle and all business, particularly with an assault rifle in his hands. Fedorov recalled how easily Troyak had lifted that oil barrel for the train when it was needed at the coaling car, and how he had backed down the NKVD Lieutenant and his squad with the sheer force of his intimidating presence. His organization and conduct of the rescue mission to the Caspian had been exemplary. Troyak led the assault that held off a full regiment of a German Panzer division while they desperately searched for Orlov, and that was no small accomplishment. He had every faith in the rock-like Sergeant, and knew he could count on him.

  “There is one thing I need you to know, Troyak. We have made no general announcement to the men, but as mission leader I must tell you that we now know Captain Karpov has survived. He must have been thrown clear of the ship and shifted forward to 1940 in our wake. The strange thing is this—we think he fell out of the shift before we appeared here, and so he arrived earlier in time. We aren’t sure exactly when, but his name first appears in 1938.”

  Troyak listened, his eyes registering surprise, but saying nothing.

  “The thing is this, Sergeant. Karpov has wormed his way into a position of authority in the Siberian Free State. He is now commander of the Siberian Aero Corps, and we have learned they have at least eight zeppelins.”

  He explained the flight plan was to cross the White Sea and stop briefly at Port Dikson on the Kara Sea to drop off mail, supplies, and take on fresh water and diesel fuel. Then they would vanish into the sprawling wilderness of Siberia, planning to approach Ilanskiy from the north. He wanted them to take the stealthiest approach possible, and also loaded portable jamming equipment just in case any of the Siberian zeppelins had mounted radar.

  Chief Byko also suggested they use an Oko Panel radar set connected to a portable receiver. They could mount it easily on the bottom of the main gondola, and it could detect any hostile aircraft long before they would become a potential threat. Byko also nudged Fedorov with a wink and told him he could sharpen the Narva’s teeth a bit if necessary. The Marines ended up taking some reserve hand held 9K338 Igla missiles. The name meant “needle” in Russian, and NATO called the infrared seeking missile the SA-24 Grinch, but by any name it was a very capable infantry operated SAM system.

  These advantages, and the normal thick cloud cover over Siberia, gave them every hope that they could reach the objective site undetected. They also hoped that they would learn the outcome of the mission before they met with the British.

  “And what if we encounter Karpov in one of his zeppelins?” Troyak asked the obvious question.

  “You will have to use your best judgment, Troyak. The Admiral hopes to avoid engagement. We do not want to let Karpov know we are here just yet. Admiral Volsky is considering the matter. But you must protect the airship, and your men. This mission is very important. Coordinate with Captain Selikov. He knows how to fight the airship. You handle ground operations with your Marines. For the moment it is Volkov that we are worried about. If the situation allows you to reconnoiter down those steps and find him, report and Admiral Volsky will give the final order. And Sergeant, no one needs to know about Karpov for the moment, particularly Orlov.”

  “I understand, sir.”

  “One other thing…” Fedorov did not quite know how to say this, but struggled on. “If you should go down those steps, and for any reason cannot return, then realize that you are at a very decisive point in history. We know what Volkov does, and what we are trying to prevent here. How you accomplish that is up to you, Sergeant. But I realize we are asking a great deal of you. The fate of the world, of all our lives, and the life of our homeland, will be on those broad shoulders of yours.”

  Troyak took that in for a moment. “I will do everything in my power to complete my mission, sir. You
can rely on me.”

  “But… we may not ever see you again, Troyak.”

  The burly sergeant smiled, shouldering his automatic weapon. “Don’t worry about me, Captain.” He saluted, and for the first time Fedorov knew what that salute was all about as he returned it.

  “God be with you.”

  Now they were committed, up in the long steel gondola beneath the Narva, the tether released and the airship slowly ascending into the grey skies. Fedorov waved, pumped his arm, and saw a man return the gesture from above, a distant salute. They were on their way.

  And we will be on our way as well, thought Fedorov. Kirov was already turned around, the ship’s nose pointed north again in the Kola inlet, and starting to work up speed. They would be 36 hours at full speed before they reached the meeting place with the British, sailing up around the north cape of Norway, then down through the Norwegian Sea to the Faeroes. Narva had a longer journey, some 3600 kilometers, but they expected to average at least 100kph and should make it to Ilanskiy within that same 36 hour period.

  “Will we get this man Volkov?” The Admiral had asked him. “What do you really think our chances are if I give the order?”

  “I don’t know, sir. In fact, I don’t know what we can possibly expect here if Troyak succeeds. Suppose the Orenburg Federation never arises. Would we suddenly forget about it? Would all the references and history I’ve been reading in those books we were given suddenly change? What about all the Soviet troops along the Volga facing down the Grey Legion? I just don’t understand how any of that could be affected. Are they all just going to appear somewhere else as we sit down to tea with Admiral Tovey? Will we be able to remember we even launched the mission? Why would we? There would be no reason to go after a man who was never there—do you see what I mean, Admiral?”

  “Madness, Fedorov. I don’t understand any of it. Every time I lay my head down to try and sleep I keep thinking that I will awaken to the old world, before we left Severomorsk the first time.”

  “There is one anchor I have tried to use for my thinking on this. The work of that American physicist—Paul Dorland. He was talking about something called a Heisenberg Wave.”

  “What in God’s name is that?

  “Werner Heisenberg, sir. He was a German theoretical physicist and one of the creators of the theory of quantum mechanics. Now that I think of him, he must be alive even now, working in what was called the German Uranium Club. They were trying to develop nuclear fission and an atomic weapon. In fact, Heisenberg came to believe that the war would eventually be decided by the bomb.”

  “Yes, they are all working to lay their eggs,” Volsky shook his head. “And here we sit with three already in the nest. But how does this relate to this wave business?”

  “The Heisenberg wave was not his idea. It was just a name given to a theory proposed by the American physicist, Paul Dorland. Heisenberg once proposed what he called the Uncertainty Principle. In effect, he claimed that events in the subatomic world, the world of quantum mechanics, were not certain. The movement and orbits of particles were not there unless and until they were observed. It is like these possible changes we’ve been discussing. Perhaps they only take real form the instant we observe them. Once a change has been made in the past, then its consequences sweep forward in time, like ripples from a stone thrown in a pool of still water. This is the Heisenberg Wave. Dorland theorized that it literally re-arranged every quantum particle it encountered as it migrated out, though its range was unknown. He carried this idea further by saying that only the knowing observer would realize the change had taken place, and in order to be able to make such an observation, he would have to be in a safe place, one that would keep them from becoming swept up in the wave of change itself. He called this a Nexus Point.”

  “You and Kamenski should have a long talk, Fedorov. He tried to explain this to me once, but I have no mind for it. We seem to remember things that others forget, or have never even known. We knew about the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, and how that war ended, but if I asked anyone at the naval headquarters at Fokino, they all talked about the bombing of Vladivostok. Now here we are again in a world where that has never happened. Are we in one of these Nexus Points?”

  “I don’t know, but this time I have my doubts. We have always been the ones making the changes in the past. We were the stone thrown into the water, and the Heisenberg Wave swept away from us, leaving us unaffected. Yet this time, if Troyak goes back and changes something, then we could very well be at risk.”

  “It is too much for me to keep track of all these things. I have enough trouble trying to keep the ship and crew on a steady course. Yet what you say here gives me much to think about.”

  “I understand, sir.” Fedorov recalled how Kamenski had described it before they set out on Kazan to try and stop Karpov in 1908… Time is not the nice straight line from point A to point B that you think it is. It is all twisted and folded about itself and, in fact, any two points on that squiggly line could meet and be joined. This is why I say we are all together now, in one place, a nexus point where the lines of fate meet and run through one another like a Gordian knot, and we sit here trying to figure out how to untangle it….

  “Perhaps we will know if anything happens,” he said at last. “Perhaps we just need to have faith, and do right as we see it, moment to moment. Then let God, Fate, and Time sort everything out. We’ll just have to do our best and see what happens, sir.”

  * * *

  Even as the Narva lifted off the mooring tower and climbed into the sky, Vladimir Karpov was musing in the gondola bridge of airship Akaban. So I have finally seen the end of all my mischief, he thought with some foreboding. The war in 2021 reaches its awful conclusion. What else could that have been? I was watching a nice fat nuclear warhead going off, right over the 10th Naval arsenal on the other side of the river.

  He could see the place where it would be built, just a thicket of pine and taiga now, where the rail line curved towards Kansk. He was suddenly beset with the feeling that nothing mattered any longer. No matter what I do here, he thought, I cannot save the world. Or is it the things I do here that bring that awful vision to life in the future? Which is it?

  Face it, Karpov, he chided himself. You are not busy here trying to save the world. You are only interested in saving your own skin, and the world be damned, eh? Another voice argued in his mind. No, it said, that wasn’t true. I have been fighting for Russia all along. I fought the British, Germans, Japanese and the Americans—all our enemies, all with a mind to exploit us and take from us. Now I fight for Russia, and not simply my own ambition. If no one here has the mind or will to pull this country together again, then I must do it.

  Yes, he thought, give yourself a noble purpose, but look how it ends? What are you doing, you fool! You were once Captain of the most powerful ship on earth. The possibilities were limitless. You could have done anything. Now here you are flitting about in these antiquated old blimps, a self appointed Admiral of a phantom fleet of airships. What in God’s name do you think you are doing?

  I’m doing this, the other voice answered. There’s more in my grasp now than the reins of this old airship, or even the entire fleet. No. I have more at my command than the hordes of Tartar Cavalry I threatened Volkov with. I’ve got that damn stairway under my thumb! Volkov doesn’t know what really happened to him. He never made the connection between this place and his movement in time, a connection that was almost immediately apparent to me. What a fool I was—I very nearly spilled the beans when I suggested that to him in our meeting. I can only hope he doesn’t put two and two together like I did and get curious. Otherwise he would likely move his entire air fleet to secure this place.

  That is why I must secure it first! I’m here, now, and I have two airships and a full battalion of the 18th Siberian Rifles with me. That will be enough for the moment. I’ll offload that entire force here, and lock that railway inn down tight as a drum. I can make this a new regional hea
dquarters and bring in more troops in the weeks ahead. This place is perhaps the most strategic soil in all of Russia, and it’s mine! Let Volkov and Kirov squabble over the rest.

  He remembered how he had figured out what must have happened to Volkov. The man started at the top of that stairway and he claimed he was interrogated by NKVD at the bottom. That had to be in the 1940s. There were no NKVD operating back in 1908. The Tsar was still in power then. So how did Volkov end up in 1908? He must have gone down the stairs a second time! You go up those stairs and you move forward in time. You go down those stairs…

  Now the full implications of what he had just worked out in his mind struck him. My god, he thought, I have even more power here than I realized! I could go back there right now, with Tyrenkov and some of his very best men. We’ll go up the main stairway and then the whole lot could follow me down that service stairway to the dining room—but to where? Would it work? Would we end up in 1908, or some other year?

  If it did work… If I could go farther back… Why then Volkov was small potatoes, wasn’t he? Kirov would be no problem either. I could go back and get rid of them—pull the weeds before they ever get a chance to spoil my garden.

  He smiled, thinking how easy it would be to do away with his enemies. Then I’ll handle the matter, won’t I? I’ll be the one who gets rid of Stalin, Volkov, Kirov and anyone else who gets in my way. Then I could just come back here and see what has developed. I’ll be the most powerful man in the whole world!

  He passed a moment imagining it all. I was thrown off the back of Kirov for a reason, he now believed. That old Japanese fisherman did not know what he was doing when he pulled me out of the water, that he had fate himself in his fishing net! Look how they brought me home. Those few rubles the pilot of that steamer handed me will end up buying much more than he could imagine. Now I can be the one who takes control, not just here in Siberia. From 1908 I can manage everything. I’ll even be able to take an occasional walk up those stairs to see how the cake is baking, eh?