Devil's Garden

Chapter 34

They had lingered in the Sea of Japan for days now as Karpov tried to decide what to do. It seemed to him just as his campaign had begun, Fedorov appeared to cast the shadow of guilt on him with his obsession over not breaking the eggshells of history. Well, I am sorry Mister Fedorov, a ship with this much power leaves a wide wake. I barely flicked my little finger at those Japanese cruisers, and they could do nothing about it. That Canadian steamer was merely a distraction. I need to decided whether to commit myself here or to try to get the ship home.

He knew what he wanted to do, deep inside, but now that the men knew there’s a way home it could be difficult to burn this last bridge deliberately. Zolkin would certainly have a fit.

The decision weighed heavily on his shoulders, but that thought suddenly presented him with a possible solution. Zolkin! The Doctor’s words returned to him in the heat of his rumination.

“We are like blind men in a dark closet looking for the right coat here. Whatever you decide, consider the men on this ship. They may not share your dream of conquest. Have you even bothered to consider asking what they might want to do?”

Of course! That was the answer. He would explain their circumstances to the men and see what they would do. They would vote in a secret ballot. No man’s name would be compromised. They could speak their mind without fear, and then at least the Captain would know where he stood.

He had given them all his reasons for the action he planned. “We have beaten off every enemy we have faced and survived to fight again,” he said over the ship’s PA system. “Now we are here, far from home and, short of detonating another nuclear warhead, we are likely to remain here, or so I believed. Yet we have just discovered that Captain Anton Fedorov has managed to get back to this year and time as well, only in the Caspian Sea aboard Anatoly Alexandrov. He proposes to bring us new control rods by helicopter, though if we use them, we have no guarantee as to where they will take us, if anywhere at all. We might move forward, or even further back in time. This cannot be known. So we can now do one of two things, either try to rendezvous with Fedorov and see what happens, or remain here in this decisive era where we now find ourselves, and change the sad future our nation must face in the decades ahead.”

He went on to describe the history of this time and place, the prospect of restoring Russia to power in the Pacific, the idea of preventing Japan from ever rising as a military power here and bringing the Americans into the Pacific in WWII. “Russia has some hard years ahead,” he finished. “The revolution is coming, and it will be shaped only by those men who dare to do so here and now. Yes, we can try and go home to our world of computers and conveniences, and all our loved ones there. But, as we have seen, that world may not be so comfortable after all if the war we were fighting has continued. Who knows, we may get there and find only the ashes of the history I hope to change. Now, here, we have a chance to prevent that war and shape the future ahead. I realize this asks every man to sacrifice much, the entirety of the life you left behind, and to begin again here. So I leave this decision to you, the fighting crew of the battlecruiser Kirov. We have come a long way together. Now you decide where we will go together in the days ahead.”

He gave the men time to talk among themselves and decide how they felt about the situation, still lingering in the Sea of Japan. On the twentieth of July the vote was finally taken and the Captain was pacing fitfully on the bridge. Nikolin tabulated the results and made the announcement on the bridge. “Captain, sir. I have counted all the ballots and the crew votes 128 in favor of sailing to rendezvous with Fedorov, but a strong majority of 582 vote in favor of remaining here with you at the helm.”

Karpov had his eyes closed as Nikolin read the results, and now he opened them with a smile. “Five to one,” he said quietly. “Very well. You may make the results known to the crew, and then we must get about the business of building that new world I promised them. If that means that we must first make some changes to this world, so be it.” He looked at Rodenko now, looking for his reaction. He nodded, and the Captain took that as his assent, though he had no way of knowing how his first officer had actually voted.

It was decided.

At 18:00 hours on that day Karpov joined Nikolin at the communications station and they began broadcasting on the shortwave radio again as he had promised Fedorov. Now there was only one more man to convince, he thought, knowing that Fedorov would definitely not approve of this decision. Ten minutes later Nikolin had a clear signal.

“Fedorov, here,” came the familiar voice. “We’ve been waiting to hear from you, Captain.”

“Well enough, Fedorov. We have considered your plan, and I have discussed it with the officers, Doctor Zolkin, and the entire crew. Over.”

“Good to hear it, Captain. Which option seems most feasible to you. Do you think you can make it to the Arabian Sea? If not, the Bay of Bengal should be close enough. We wish we could come all the way to the Pacific, but we had to use fuel to search for Orlov, and that leaves us no margin of safety. It’s a very long way. Over.”

“You will not have to worry about that, Fedorov….We have decided to stay where we are.”

“Say again, Kirov? What have you decided? Over.”

“We are remaining here, in the Pacific of 1908. Our mission was to defend Russia, and this we will do, but from this place and time, when a ship like this battlecruiser can really make all the difference in the world.”

There was a considerable pause before Fedorov came back. “Did I hear you correctly, Captain? You are staying here? But you can’t do that, sir. The danger-”

“We can and we will, Fedorov.” The Captain cut in, sending right on top of Fedorov’s incoming message.

“What in God’s name do you think you are going to do?”

“It may not be in God’s name that we do anything, Fedorov. That is the nature of war. You know the history as well as anyone. We will restore Russia as a Pacific power and prevent Japan from becoming the militaristic power that leads her into World War Two. What do you expect us to do back home? All we could do is sit there waiting for the ICBMs to arrive. Besides, Fedorov. You have no idea whether or not those other control rods will even work, or where they might send us if we try to use them. Am I not correct?”

Again the long pause… “Yes, that is so, but Captain, anything you do here could have terrible consequences-things you cannot foresee now. It may seem so easy from the bridge of Kirov now, but it never is. We should at least try and get the ship and men home safely. I came all this way just to find Orlov, and by God we finally have the man. What you propose now is utter madness! It will change everything!”

“They is exactly the idea, Fedorov. Yes. We are going to change everything.”

“I cannot believe this! You have no idea what you are doing. You are betraying more than your own pledge to me and to Admiral Volsky here, Karpov. Do you remember it? What about the Russia you pledged to defend? Our homeland is in 2021, not here! We have no business even being here!”

“Do not think this is entirely my doing, Fedorov. You will want to make me out as a traitor and consign me to the Ninth Circle of Hell. Better to rule here than to serve in heaven, eh? So be it. Yet you should know that I put this question to the entire crew, the vote was decisive, five to one. We stay here. How is it we even find ourselves here? Have you wondered about that? We are here for a reason, Fedorov, and I think I know what that reason is now. If you must return to the future we came from, then do what you must.”

“…You must reconsider, Karpov. This is insane what you propose now.”

“That has yet to be proven, Captain. If you do make it back, you may read the history we write here yourself and see if we prevail. Once we finish here we will contact you again. If you still remain marooned in this time, as we are, then we will reconsider your plan. But do not get your hopes up, or wait for us. We have a world to change, Fedorov. I know that is the worst thing possible in your mind. You want to keep all the eggs in the nest, safe and sound, but that is clearly impossible now. We could not do that in 2021, nor even in all our battles in World War Two. But here, we are invincible, my friend. You know that. Here we make the real decisive difference! That is all that matters now. There is nothing more to be said. I wish you and the Admiral well. Yes, I know you will judge me, but so will time and fate. Kirov, over and out.”

“Captain…Listen to reason here! You cannot do this!”

Karpov gave Nikolin a hard hand signal to cut the transmission, and he did so, though he could see pain in the young officer’s eyes. He looked at Rodenko and the others, knowing this would be hardest part of the decision before them.

“I know you all loved Fedorov,” he said quietly. “Yet you also know he would do anything to set the table as it was before we left Severomorsk so long ago. Understand that he cannot assure that in any wise, no matter what he does. He had no intention of ever arriving here, in 1908; any more than we did. So you see he really has no control over what happens. Yes, it is hard to turn our back on him now, but this we must do. We are here, on these waters, in this ship, at this moment. The men have decided to stay and fight. So God bless Fedorov, but he will not understand what we must now do. He was always the white Angel, I was the demon of shadows. He would never understand me any more than white can know black.” He sighed, walking slowly toward the Captain’s chair. “Helm, come to 180 and steady at twenty knots.”

“Helm answering, Captain, Coming round to one, eight, zero, Aye.”

* * *

The transmission ended and Fedorov stood there, a shocked expression on his face. Dobrynin was sitting on a chair by the main operations console.

“So Satan has fallen from heaven and now he rules in hell,” he said quietly. “I cannot say that this surprises me as much as you, Mister Fedorov.”

“The man is insane,” Fedorov said with a defeated tone in his voice. “What you say is not too far from the truth, Chief. The ninth circle of hell was reserved for traitors, particularly those who betray the trust of their nation. Karpov has been trying to do this all along. I could feel it even before we learned he was here. He wanted to strike the decisive blow and kill Churchill and Roosevelt at the Atlantic Charter meeting. Then he argued we could destroy Malta or Gibraltar and change the course of the war that way. After that it was the Japanese, then the Americans. He keeps looking to find his Waterloo, well, now he has found it here.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s right about the ship being invincible. There is nothing in this era that can pose a threat if he maneuvers smartly here. So I can only guess what is in the man’s mind now. He will probably think to first challenge the Japanese again, and reverse the outcome of the Russo-Japanese war. That sounds like the obvious thing to do, but anything could happen from here on out. Anything… If he starts another war here it could affect all Russian history, all world history from this point forward. Russia might not even enter the First World War. And considering that man has nuclear weapons at his disposal still-in 1908! It is truly chilling.”

“What can we do?” Dobrynin held up an empty hand. “Do you want to launch the Mi-26 mission now anyway? We might be able to get to the Pacific. We could strip the helicopter down to the bare essentials-just food, fuel and those two control rods. Perhaps even one will do.”

Fedorov’s mind was a chaos of plans and counter plans, and all beset now with the real terror of what Karpov was going to try to do. How could he decide anything now? He felt completely powerless here. But he could not simply sit there and do nothing. The idea of trying to find Kirov in the Pacific now was fruitless, and Dobrynin made that evident as he continued.

“Then again, even if you do find the ship, Karpov could refuse to use the control rods. Why, he could even shoot the Mi-26 down if he wanted to.”

“Zolkin was correct,” said Fedorov dejectedly. “And I was a fool to think I could trust and rely on Karpov without the countervailing authority of the Admiral to keep him in check.”

“Technically Karpov is the acting Fleet Commander now. Volsky is in strategic command, but Karpov was given the Red Banner Fleet on the operational level. In fact, that makes him your superior officer.”

“Yes, and what happened to that fleet?”

“I suppose we will never know…unless we do get home, and then you can read about it as the Captain suggested.”

Fedorov’s eyes suddenly brightened, and he spun around. “Yes…That’s the only thing we can do here. We’ve completed our mission, and for some reason we ended up here. Who knows why? Maybe it was only to learn what Karpov was going to do, but we can’t do anything about that at all here. You are correct, Chief, he would simply refuse to use the control rods until he had his way.”

Dobrynin nodded quietly.

“Then we go home,” said Fedorov flatly. “At least we try to go home. If we do get there, and anything is still left of the world Karpov leaves us, then we can discover exactly what he does. There will be history, times, places, events.”

“What good will that do us?”

“We would still have the control rods, Chief. This may sound strange now, and I have not yet thought it through, but I think Karpov is correct about at least one thing here. There is something decisive about this year-1908. We have all fallen through some hole in time into this nice little circle of hell here, all the Fallen Angels gathered here together, and this is where it must all end. The question is how? What can we do? The helicopter idea is futile. This whole plan with the Anatoly Alexandrov of mine was useless. It wasn’t Orlov we needed to worry about. I was wrong. He wasn’t the demon we set loose in the world. It was Karpov all along!”

“Then what do we do?”

“We have to stop him before his actions here become irreversible, that’s what we do.”

“But how, Fedorov? The hovercraft and all these Marines will do us no good here either.”

“Not here-not now. First we must get back home. Look Chief…You say you can hear the change in the reactor when it happens, yes?”

“It has a very distinctive vibration. Yes, I can hear it like I might hear music, if that makes any sense.”

“Alright then, we’ll try again. Do you suppose you could do something with the reactors, just as Doctor Zolkin suggested once in jest. He said to go have the Chief fiddle with the reactor and send us home. Is there any way to make adjustments in the procedure to change things?”

“Possibly,” said Dobrynin, thinking about it now. “I could vary the rods scheduled for replacement. I usually go odd-even-and so forth. That’s what I was doing on Kirov. Perhaps I could break that sequence and try something different.”

“Odd even? Do you remember which it was when we always shifted forward?”

“Why yes…even, yes, it was an even numbered rod each and every time, though I never considered that before.”

“And this last shift here?”

Dobrynin smiled. “Odd, Mister Fedorov, very odd. Of course! This is why that shift sounded so different to me. I was expecting a rising melody, and the orchestra descended into chaos.”

“Well, that’s a start. We use an even numbered rod now, though why would that matter?”

“They are all placed in different locations in the reactor core, so the neutron flux is different, almost like a different note played on a wind instrument changes the tone, if that makes any sense to you.”

“Then you could listen and remember the sound of a forward shift? Is that possible?”

“Of course. I hear the reaction every time it happens. It descends when we slip backward in time, and it ascends when we move forward. I know the sound well enough if I hear it.”

“And perhaps you could also fiddle with those other two control rods in their containers. Lids on, lids off, who knows what we might do. I know it would be hit and miss, but we have to try, Chief. We’ve got to get home, one way or another, and that before Karpov does something catastrophic here.”

“What does it matter when we go? Won’t everything he does be finished and done when we get home? The man and the whole crew will be in their graves when we get there. It’s a hundred and thirteen years before we get home!”

“I think it does matter….” Fedorov was thinking hard now. “If we leave this time before he does something decisive, perhaps we still have a chance. Suppose we learn what he does and then return here-to this moment-before he even does it!”

“Suppose we could return-to what end? To have this discussion all over again here with Karpov?”

“No, Chief, to stop him.”

“But how, Fedorov? You haven’t answered that yet.”

“I think I may have a plan, but first, somehow, some way, we have to get safely home and then find a way to return to this moment. I only hope your inner ear is a good one. Can you remember what that last shift that brought us here sounded like?”

“Remember it? I recorded it! I’ve been listening to the reactor sing its song to the heavens ever since we got here, trying to figure out what was happening. So lately I’ve been recording the sound from all these shifts so I could sort through it and see if I hear anything that leads me to an engineering process.”

“Excellent Chief! Then there’s a chance you might be able to get us here again-to 1908. I’m counting on that-in fact I think the whole world will be counting on that. Let’s get started! I’m going below for a moment.”

“But Fedorov…suppose I can work my magic and get us back here again. What will you do? We’ll be facing the same problem we have now!”

“No, we won’t be here in the Caspian. Once we get home we can fly to Vladivostok with all the control rods and be right there in the Pacific. Then, if we shift again, Kirov will be very close.”

“What if Karpov refuses to let you board the ship?”

“Don’t worry, Chief. I have a plan. But first, there’s still one other problem I need to resolve here.”