Altered States – Volume II. Darkest Hour

Chapter 15

“I had hoped I could recruit your support,” said Volsky. “Every moment we have been at sea these last months has been a hardship. The men have lost everything they had, everyone they ever knew, and while I have promised them we would find a way to get them home again, that may never happen for us. Once we thought we had come home, but here we are again, and I am no longer sure the world we came from even exists any longer.”

Kirov had a very serious expression on his face, clearly empathizing with everything the Admiral was saying. “Well,” he said, “I owe this man my life, and so in return I will do everything possible to secure yours, and those of every man on your ship. You are welcome to anything we have, food, fuel, quarters ashore. Anything you need can be provided.”

“Thank you, Mironov, it was my hope that we could find a safe harbor here. Yet there is one more thing I must tell you. Our route here took us through the Atlantic and the Denmark Strait, and there has been a major battle there between the British and Germans.”

“Yes, our intelligence has informed me of this, but the British seem to have prevailed. Their navy is the one force the Germans cannot break.”

“It was much more serious than you may realize,” Volsky said with a certain urgency. “Mister Fedorov here is somewhat of a student of military history, and he believes the Germans would have won this engagement if not for our intervention.”

“Your intervention?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so. It is a long story, sir, and I cannot give you all the details now, but at one time we made an enemy of the Royal Navy. Finding ourselves in these waters again, and needing support, this time I thought to make them a friend. The Germans sortied with a very powerful fleet, and the situation did not look good for the British. I therefore elected to use the power of my ship to… discourage the Germans, and we were able to see them off home again.”

“I see…” Kirov was very thoughtful now. “I must tell you, Admiral Volsky, that we will not be able to stand neutral in this war for very much longer. When I went up those stairs at Ilanskiy, into Stalin’s world, I learned that Russia and Germany were at war by 1942, and that the Germans had pushed all the way to the Volga! If they were to do the same again, then we are facing annihilation. So in some sense I look upon your coming here as a harbinger of good fate.”

“We are a powerful ship, sir, but I do not think we can sail to the front line if the Germans push for Moscow.”

“And they will,” said Fedorov. “It is almost certain that they will. They called it Operation Barbarossa.”

Kirov nodded gravely. “Even now we begin to see a slow and steady buildup on the Polish frontier, and yes, our intelligence had wind of that very name-Barbarossa. You may or may not know that the Orenburg Federation has declared open war on us and allied itself with Germany. At the moment they are also squabbling with the Free Siberian State. Last winter they crossed the border and took Omsk from the Siberians, which was good news for us. We made overtures to Kolchak, but he seemed indecisive. He, too, has a war on two fronts now, with the Japanese at his back and Volkov on the other flank.”

“I must tell you something now,” said Volsky. “This man Volkov, the man they call the Prophet, we believe that he was not born to this world.”

“What do you mean? He has come from… from another floor in the inn?”

“That may have been exactly what happened,” said Fedorov. “We have thought a great deal about that stairway and the strange effects we have both experienced there. When we learned of this man, Volkov, we began to suspect that he was a man by the same name that had also come from our world-that he has gone down those stairs as well.”

“I see…” A light of realization was evident in Kirov’s eyes. “That would explain much. Volkov was able to outmaneuver Denikin and everyone else-except me. I had the support of the Reds, so he settled into the White movement and consolidated power there. But he had been here for years, decades in fact. I met him twenty years ago, and could see that he was going to be trouble during the revolution.”

“If what we believe has actually happened, he may have gone down that stairway, just as I did,” said Fedorov. “If he ended up in 1908, then that would explain his presence here all these years. We know that he vanished in our day, and at that very place, Ilanskiy. This leads me to suspect that stairway can also make a connection to our world-to the third floor, Mironov.”

“That would be very significant if it did. Do you think Volkov knows about this?”

“We do not know, but I am inclined to believe that he does not. If he did, why would he have remained marooned in the past? It would seem any sane man would try to return the way he came.”

“Something may have prevented him,” said Kirov, “the madness, the shock of what he experienced. I found it very difficult to bear myself.”

“Yet he had years to try and return, but never did. If he does remain in the dark, that is good news, and we hope as much. Because if that stairway still exists in this world, and the effects continue, then it could be a way for us to return to our own time-a way for any man to do so.”

Kirov immediately perceived the peril there. “That would be very dangerous.”

“Yes,” said Volsky. “Men who knew what they were about could use that stairway to cause a great deal of mischief.”

“At the moment that inn may not see many travelers,” said Kirov. “This civil war has been very hard. The railway east has degraded. Much of it has fallen into disrepair. The route from Chebalyinsk to Novosibirsk is impassible now with Cossacks and Tartars at each other’s throats. One or two trains still operate further east all the way to Irkutsk, but there are very few who dare to travel that route. We have men there from our intelligence arm. Things are starting to wake up now that Karpov has come on the scene.”

The name fell like a hot coal in a bucket of ice water, and Kirov could see the immediate reaction in both the other men. Volsky leaned forward, giving Fedorov a worried glance. “Karpov? Tell me more of this man.”

“I wish I could. He seemed to come from nowhere just a few years ago. Old Man Kolchak and his Lieutenant Kozolnikov were running things in the east. Then the name of this man Karpov began to appear in dispatches and signals traffic. We thought he was just another minor official, or perhaps a newly appointed military officer. Then we learned he was given command of the Siberian Air Corps. Now it appears that he exercises considerable influence over Kolchak. They call him the old man for a good reason. Kolchak is getting slow, and he has been unable to unite the disparate warlords ranging throughout Siberia-until recently. Karpov is whipping things into shape there. Yet you both seem very surprised to hear this name. What is your concern?”

“It may be nothing,” said Volsky. “It is just that Karpov was an officer aboard my ship-one we believed was killed in action, though we never recovered his body.”

“When? Was this a recent event?”

“Just days ago for us, but decades past in your time. You see, Mironov, our ship found its way to the same year when you first met Fedorov-1908. How it came to be there is a very long story, but this man, Karpov, believed he was marooned there permanently and took some rather aggressive action against the Japanese. He had it in his mind to reverse the humiliation of our defeat at the hands of Admiral Togo’s fleet in 1905. Yes, he thought he might restore Russia to her position of power in the Pacific, but we knew this would cause grave harm, and so at that time I did everything possible to impede him.”

“You were there with him on the ship? He opposed your authority?”

To make a long story short, Volsky decided to abridge his tale. “That is a fair assessment of what happened,” he said. “But he was stopped. The crew would not follow him any longer, and that was his undoing. Then he disappeared. We believed he had been killed in action, but this mention of his name has been somewhat jarring. Our ship moved again in time after that-I cannot explain it fully here, but if Karpov also moved with us, and was still alive…”

Fedorov spoke now, very concerned. “You say this Karpov came on the scene some years ago?”

“We first began to hear his name a year ago. I would think he would have been fermenting in the power structure for many years before that, but we could turn up no history on the man, and no records. Nothing is known of Volkov’s early life either. No one ever heard of the man until he began inserting himself into the revolutionary cadres in 1908. In time he co-opted Denikin’s entire operation in the Caucasus, and from there he has expanded to control all of Kazakhstan. We’ve held the line on the Volga, but now, with the Germans building up on our western front, our situation becomes very serious. So you see, I need friends as well. Soviet Russia needs friends. Otherwise we may not survive this war.”

Volsky extended his hand. “When I learned from radio intercepts that it was you, Sergei Kirov, who control our homeland in Stalin’s place, I felt hope for the first time in a good long while. I told young Fedorov here that if there was one man in Russia I could fight for, it would be you. I will tell you now that we made contact with the British on our way here. In fact, I met face to face with their Admiral of the Home Fleet. He is a reasonable man, and one that could become a strong ally if you were so inclined.”

“The British are hanging on by their fingernails,” said Kirov. “Yes, if they go, then we are surely next. Then the whole word comes under the shadow of Nazi Germany.”

Volsky was clear and direct, and Kirov could see it in his eyes. “That cannot be permitted to happen. Mister General Secretary, this has been an hour of many revelations. We sit here discussing the impossible fates we have both suffered, and now this news of Karpov chills my blood if this is, indeed, the man we lost. He is a man of great ambition, and could prove a grave danger. Now, however, I think that Russia’s only chance at survival is in a speedy alliance with Great Britain and the United States.”

“America? They are a neutral state.”

“At the moment-but Russia is a neutral state as well. You and I both know that no nation with any power in this world will be able to remain a neutral bystander. We know how this war ended once, Kirov. It is only just beginning now, but it will grow and grow and become a whirlwind of chaos that will consume the entire world before it ends.”

“Yet your presence here tells me Russia survives. I could spend days with you with the questions in my mind now.”

“As I could with you, but we both have duties to perform. Yes, Russia survived-in the history we knew. In that war we were allies with Great Britain, but without their support, and the supplies and equipment that flowed to us through this very port, we may not have survived the onslaught Germany unleashed upon us. At this moment, all is in play. These years are the most dangerous of the entire war. Unless you get sound footing, the Germans could stampede all the way to Moscow, and now, with this Orenburg Federation and Volkov at your back, you have no refuge in the east as Stalin had when hard pressed.”

“You tell me things that I have realized for some time now. Yes, I know we cannot stand alone, and for that reason I have already put out feelers to the British, and will now make a formal proposal of alliance. Do you think it will be well received?”

“It will. I am almost certain. Britain stands alone in the west, even as you stand alone here. You must join hands and become brothers in arms. There is no other way for either of you to survive. If Germany can turn its might on either nation in isolation, they would certainly win. It is only the strength of the Royal Navy that now shields Great Britain from destruction.”

“The Germans are planning to invade England even now!”

“That plan will fail,” said Fedorov. “At least it never came about in the history we know. Yet this is a new history book we are living in now, at least for me. The Kriegsmarine is much stronger than we knew it to be. Things have changed, and the Germans may now be able to pose a serious invasion threat to England.”

“Not on my watch,” said Volsky flatly.

Kirov smiled. “You sound very confident, Admiral. I like that in a man. A good boast is sometimes a necessary food for the soul, as long as a man has courage to go along with it.”

“I do not boast, Mister General Secretary. The ship I now command has the power to assure England’s safety from invasion. I could accomplish this single handedly, but the Royal Navy has great strength as it stands. If I commit my Kirov to their cause, then I can assure you that the Germans will not set foot on English soil.”

“Well Admiral, then I urge you to do this. As for this Kirov,” he placed his hands on his broad chest now, “he is committed as well. Now then, let us drink on this new day together. I will call my Lieutenants back and we will have a good meal and some good Vodka as well. Then we will get on with the business of trying to save the world, eh? I have only one hope, Admiral Volsky. You have told me your ship has moved in time, though I do not grasp how that happens. That aside… will you move in time again? Can you do this? Or might it happen again by accident?”

“We do not yet know,” said Volsky truthfully. “All I can promise you is our friendship and support as long as we can stay put.”

Kirov clasped his arm in a hearty handshake. “Then I can promise you the same.”

The meal was delicious and very fulfilling, a taste of real home cooking, as Volsky described it. Troyak and Zykov were also seated at the table, and the obvious good will between the General Secretary and these visitors lightened the mood of the security officers.

As the evening concluded Kirov brought in a man in a naval uniform, introducing him as Vice Admiral Arseniy Grigoriyevich Golovko, currently serving with the Red Banner Northern Fleet. At first the man was surprised to see Volsky, as here was an Admiral he did not know. To forestall the questions this would surely raise, Kirov covered by saying he had just appointed this man, who was head of a very secret project.

“I will have to find a way to explain your presence here, Admiral,” he had whispered to Volsky at the dinner. “And to explain your ship when it pulls into the harbor. So for now you are a state secret, a special project, and I can keep curious men under control if that will be a help to you. There is a good harbor north of the city here that we have been considering for a new shipyard. Perhaps you know it?”

“Severomorsk,” said Volsky, smiling. “Yes, we sailed from that port… eighty-one years from now.” It still sounded fantastic and unbelievable every time he considered it. “Admiral Golovko will make good company here. In our day we had a ship that bore his name as well.”

“Good then,” said Kirov enthusiastically. “The place is yours. I will marshal the resources to have facilities built there, and for now you will find it a safe anchorage. One day I should dearly like to see this ship of yours, but for now I am needed in Moscow.”

“I will arrange a tour when next we meet,” said Volsky.

“Then is there anything else I can do for you; anything you need?”

Fedorov raised his hand and Kirov leaned around Volsky to smile at him. “Yes Fedorov? You have a request?”

“If I may, sir. Books,” he said. “History books.”

Kirov smiled.

Schettler, John

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