Lions at Dawn

Chapter 22

“You mean to say you joined these people—took up sides? You’ve actually engaged in combat here?”

“It was inevitable,” said Harada, trying to sort through the fallen dominoes in his mind. “We went through the same shock you just experienced. We discussed our situation, realized where we were and what we might do. Then decided to try and approach the IJN to see if we could dissuade them from proceeding with this war.”

“We had no choice,” said Fukada. “This ship only has so much fuel. We had no way of knowing how we might ever get home—to our own time. So when that fuel ran out we’d just be sitting there, a warship dead in the water like a duck in a pond. Who was going to give us that fuel, the United States Navy? Were we to throw in with them? How would any of us ever have gone home to Japan again after that?”

Admiral Kita thought about that, suddenly understanding what these men had been through. Here he was, caught in the very same web that had ensnared them, and faced with the very same choices. They had checked all their charts, and there was no mistaking that island out there, Elugelab, the place that Ivy Mike vaporized long ago. They had overflown Eniwetok as Harada had advised. It was not the modern base they knew, and there, at Parry Field, was the small seaplane base that Japan had set up soon after their initial occupation. They had boarded the tanker Kazahaya, seen the curious crewman, interviewed the ship’s Captain. It was just as Harada said it would be. Everything they heard and saw would confirm the impossible conclusion that they were no longer in their own time.

How this could have happened was the next question, the mind reaching for understanding that it would never really find. It could not be answered. The clues were there in those aerial contacts that came from seeming nowhere, F-84 Jet aircraft lost in the dizzy upwelling of doom, the seething column of Ivy Mike as it rose into the sky. They were there, then gone, as if they had only slipped briefly into this world of 1943 before returning to their own era. Why time would grant them such license could not be known. Why she would have instead pulled all these ships into the vortex that opened when Ivy Mike exploded, could not be known. It had simply happened. It could not be reasoned with, explained, or ever understood, but now it was reality, and one the Admiral would have to face, along with every crew member in his task force.

“We went to Yamamoto,” said Harada. “We thought that if we could get to someone like him, and convince him of the futility of this war, then we might build a better future for Japan in our time.”

“You actually spoke with him? Isoroku Yamamoto?”

“We did, and his Chief of Staff, Admiral Ugaki. That one is hard as steel. Yamamoto listened to us. I even showed him the end of this war in our ship’s library. Yet one thing led to another…”

“There’s something else you need to know,” said Fukada, casting a dark glance at Harada. “We aren’t alone here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we are not the only ship from our own time to appear here. Crazy as it may sound, the Russians are here as well.”

“What?”

“Remember that ship that went missing in the Norwegian Sea just before we deployed for those exercises with the Australians?”

“You mean the Russian battlecruiser? Yes it went missing, then it showed up again in the Pacific, until that Demon Volcano in the Kuriles blew it to jigoku.”

“Yes sir—Kirov. Well, it wasn’t sent to hell, nor even destroyed in that eruption. We think it blew the ship right through time, just as Krakatoa did for us.”

“But Krakatoa never erupted in 1943,” said Kita, “and it didn’t erupt in 2021 either.”

“It did here, sir. Damn thing nearly wiped out the 2nd Sendai Division, just as it was landing on Java. There was ashfall for six months. Who knows, maybe these massive explosive events disturb time—open holes in spacetime—and they extend in both directions, to both the future and past. I’ve tried to imagine how it could happen, as if I was on the top floor of a high rise, and a bomb went off three floors below. It knocks out the floors in both directions and… things fall through. We just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time. As for Kirov, the ship is here, and it’s been here for a good long time. We know, because we fought the damn thing.”

“Here? In the Pacific?”

“Correct,” said Harada. “In fact, there’s a good deal more you need to know, and it’s going to be every bit as crazy as the rest. We’ve discovered that the history here has already been radically altered. It looks like the Strike North faction in our government prevailed long ago, because the Japan of this day has not only occupied Manchuria and the coast of China, but it’s also taken Vladivostok, most of Sakhalin Island and other parts of Siberia all the way up to Chita, beyond the Amur River.”

They told Kita everything they had learned, and then explained what the Russians had been doing with their ship, threatening Japan to recover their lost territories, and actually engaging the IJN in open combat.

“The Russian ship sunk the Hiryu?”

“Yamamoto told us so. The missile tech understandably came as quite a shock to them. So when he saw what we could do with our own missiles, he asked us to go up against Kirov. We did what we could, but that’s a formidable ship. We tried to ambush them before they knew we were here, and got off all eight of our Type 12s, but they stopped them. Then they threw a good deal back at us. I can now vouch for the American SM-2s, though it cost us 33 missiles, and we had to use the laser system too. They threw a hypersonic missile at us as a final warning—probably a Zircon.”

Admiral Kita shook his head in utter dismay. “Zettai ni! Dôshiyô, dôshiyô, dôshiyô!” It was a Japanese expression of exasperation, akin to a panic of the mind as it tried desperately to grasp at a solution to something.“I’m sorry sir,” said Harada. “We know exactly how you must feel. We all went through it. In fact, we polled the crew before we decided to approach these people here, and they were all in agreement. Some had reservations, perhaps all of us still question what we’re doing here, but when the Russians showed up, it was either us… or them. They’re enemies in our own time, and now it seems they’re enemies here as well. ”

“The more things change, the more they stay the same,” said Fukada. “But we can settle the score with them now, sir. We were out there alone when we faced Kirov the first time, and with just those eight Type 12 missiles. Oh, the Japanese threw in with us with a small task force and some aircraft, but they were more a nuisance than a help. Now we’ve a real task force here—real fighting power. We can settle this.”

“Settle it? You mean Kirov?”

“Of course, sir. You aren’t going to just let the Russians have their way here, are you? This is our house, and they are just Inaorigoto, a thief in the night. But this one turns violent when he is uncovered. We must be very cautious. This Russian Captain means business. He’s gunning for Japanese ships. In fact, he just made a surprise attack on Truk—put a missile on the Musashi, and blasted the light carrier Zuiho and an oiler for good measure. They must be stopped.”

It was coming at Admiral Kita too fast. He needed time to think this through, but these men had already faced this impossible dilemma, and jumped right in to this insanity as if they were born to it. This Executive Officer was more than eager to get on with their private little war, impossible as all this was.

“Have you also engaged the American Navy here?”

“Only in a defensive situation,” said Harada. “We’ve taken out a few of their planes—all we could do after that scrap with the Russians. Yamamoto was using us as a forward picket, and we got mixed up in a carrier duel in the New Hebrides.”

“You intervened? Which battle?”

“This action was not recorded in our history. As we tried to tell you earlier, events have already changed. Some things have held true. Japan did attack the Americans at Pearl Harbor on December 7th. Then the Empire struck south in much the same way as the history we know. We’ve taken Malaya, Singapore, Java, the Dutch East Indies and Burma. Rabaul is active as the forward base for the Solomons, but there was no battle of Midway last May. Yamamoto opted for Operation FS, the attack through the French New Hebrides towards Fiji and Samoa in an attempt to isolate Australia. There have been a lot of carrier duels over that, and the campaign is still bitterly contested.”

“I see… What were you doing here at Eniwetok?”

“We were ordered home to Yokohama. Admiral Yamamoto did not give us many details, other than to tell us we were to meet with Admiral Nagano.”

“Osami Nagano? Fleet Admiral for the entire Imperial Navy? I cannot believe I’m hearing all of this.”

“That will pass,” said Fukada. “And the sooner you realize what has happened, and accept it, the better all of us will be. Admiral, we are here. That’s as certain as that island out there. The only question now is what to do about it? I know your first thought will be that we must all find our way home, but we have not found any means of doing that. We’ve been marooned here since the 1st of March, 1942. That’s been over nine long months, and we’re in this pretty deep now. We’re committed, and we’ve pledged our loyalty and service to Japan, and to Admiral Yamamoto. I hope you will see that is the only course open to you. What would the alternative be? Could you join the Americans here now, knowing what they are going to do to our homeland? Could you do nothing, and watch them destroy Japan, allow the fire-bombing of Tokyo, the destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki? Will you stand by and let that damn Russian ship out there continue to hound and hunt the Imperial Japanese Navy—kill our ships and sailors?”

“That will be all, Lieutenant Commander,” said Harada. He could see and hear the hard sell in Fukada again.

Admiral Kita looked from one to the other. “Tell me I will awaken in my cabin aboard Kaga and all this will go away.” He looked harried and weary, a little greyer than they last saw him.

“I’ve wished that many times myself in the last nine months,” said Harada. “The Lieutenant Commander here comes on pretty strong, but in the end, those are the questions you will have to decide. We’ve made our choice, though your presence here certainly reopens all those questions for us as well. Yes, we’ve thrown in with Yamamoto, but you are now our real senior officer, and we belong here, with this task force. Fukada was correct in saying that we now have real power here—decisive power. Now you must decide what to do with that.”

“You are suggesting I begin active operations here against the Americans? This is madness!”

“Yes sir, it’s completely insane, but that is what you will have to decide. We must weigh in here, on one side or another, or else we find an island somewhere and try to sit this war out. In that case, I ask you to consider what the Russians will be doing here.”

“The Russians….”

“They had no difficulty in knowing what they should do,” said Fukada. “The attack that sank Hiryu, and that raid on Truk are just the beginning. If we bow out of this, sir, that ship can do irreparable harm to our navy here. It’s January of 1943. The Americans are finally back on their feet and beginning to go on the offensive. The first of the Essex class carriers have joined their fleet. The war is out there, sir, and the Russians mean to influence its course in any way they can. They are clearly an enemy of Japan.”

“Have you both considered the consequences of all this? Every breath we take here is a theft from history. We don’t belong here!”

“No sir,” said Fukada, “we do not, but neither do the Russians. Yet we are here, and they are here. Now what are we going to do about that? You’ve got two of our most modern carriers out there, and those F-35’s you just received from the Americans make this task force invincible.”

“How ironic,” said Kita. “If I were to fight now on the side of Japan, the Americans will have handed us the rope in 2021 that we use to hang them here in 1943. But power is a two edged sword, Lieutenant Commander. Have you considered that we might also have the power to force Japan to end this war—to negotiate?”

“We considered that,” said Harada. “But face it, Admiral, do you really think Tojo will listen to such a suggestion? And what will we do when he refuses our suggestion—attack our own navy to force the issue? I suppose Mister Fukada is correct in one thing, we would be seen as traitors if we ever chose that. Considering the Russian intervention here is already underway, I came to the decision that, at the very least, I had to defend the Imperial Fleet from Kirov. We tried our best, our missiles are wearing thin, but that was what we chose, and I don’t see that I would have done any different if I had it to do over.”

“Yes…” said Kita, a distant look in his eye. “Tojo, the Army, all that intrigue around Hirohito. And by 1943, it’s a little late to be having second thoughts about the war. I’m sure Yamamoto has them, and Nagano as well. After all, Nagano opposed the Pearl Harbor Operation. He reluctantly agreed to the Strike South Plan, but urged it be done without attacking the United States, until that was shown to be impossible. Yamamoto threatened to resign if he could not attack the American fleet at Hawaii. It was all ours the first six months, then we reaped the whirlwind.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way now sir,” said Fukada. “The whole war hangs in the balance. Carrier losses to both sides have been very high, but we know how quickly the Americans will gain the upper hand with their production. With this task force, we could literally knock them right out of the war here.”

“Are you so sure?” said Kita. “If we sunk what they have afloat now, then what about all the ships they are still building?”

“That would be months, even a year or more trying to get back where they are now. We’d command the seas, and they could not supply their troops in the South Pacific. They would simply have to withdraw. But to do that, we have to settle accounts with the Russians first. Face it, Admiral. If this were 2021, and you knew Kirov was out there to go after Japanese shipping, what would you do? They’re at war with us no matter what we decide, and they brought that war here, and with a far grander agenda than we may realize. This Karpov in command of Kirov wants to reshape the entire post-war world here.”

“Karpov? Yes, he was in command when they sortied with the Red Banner Fleet. What happened to the rest of it? There were other ships in his task force?”

“They aren’t here, sir,” said Harada. “As far as we’ve been able to discern, Kirov is the only ship that was displaced.”

“Yes… Kirov is a problem if it really is here, and out to do what you say.”

“It has to be stopped, sir,” said Fukada. “Takami couldn’t do it alone, but now we can. We can put that ship at the bottom of the sea where it belongs.”

“Alright, the first thing to do now is get the rest of the Task Force up to speed. I’d better start with all the senior officers from each ship. We’ll convene a meeting here aboard Kaga, and it’s likely to be a little chaotic. I’ll want the two of you here for that as well. There’s a good deal to sort out here—a real nightmare. I don’t think I can make the decision on my own and impose it on these men and women. We’ll either stand together as one mind on this, or not. You can make your best case, Commander Fukada, but understand that this may come down to a vote.”

“And if they decide not to intervene? What then?”

“Good question. I’ll have to ask everyone to think on that, and if there is a no vote, it will have to come with some plausible course of action.”That meeting would become a five hour marathon, and the decision would take a day. A determination was made that it would have to be put to the crews as well, and not just rest with the senior officers. So that very hour, the blind men all gathered round the Elephant, and struggled to determine just what the damn thing was.

Chapter 23

The decision took another full day, and the shock of what had happened had not even really gone deeper than the skin on most of the crew. The one thing that caught their attention was the account of the attack on Truk that Fukada read to them, chapter and verse as he had it from Yamamoto. While the issue of whether they could intervene on behalf of Japan against the United States was not really decided, the vote to find, engage, and sink Kirov was unanimous. It was soon to set up what promised to be a most heated action at sea, a slice of the third world war grafted onto the hide of the second.

The force that Admiral Kita would now command was well up to the task. Where Takami had only those eight Type-12 SSMs to throw at Kirov, now it would be fully replenished by the fleet tender and oiler, Omi. Takami’s sister ship, Atago, would double down that capability, and the two other DDGs, Kongo and Kirishima, each had 8 Extended Range Block II Harpoons. That brought the SSM count to 32 missiles, and then the escort destroyer Takao could throw in a pair of Type 90 SSMs, for a total of 34 SSMs in the launchers, with reloads aboard Omi.

Fukada thought they now had Kirov beat in the SSM category, but he was wrong. The Russian ship still had 22 Moskit IIs left, nine more MOS-III Zircons, and five more P-900 cruise missiles, a total of 36 SSMs, or more than all five Japanese destroyers combined. And Kazan was out there as well, albeit unknown to the Japanese. Gromyko’s sub also had 16 Zircons, 16 more Kalibr 3M-54-K missiles, and another 8 of the longer range variant, the 3M-14-K. So the Russians could throw a total of 76 SSMs, clearly dominant in that category.

Where it came to SAMs, however, the Japanese now enjoyed an advantage. They had 328 missiles in all their combined silos and launchers. Kirov still had 123 Klinok medium range missiles, 32 of the longer range S-400s, and 64 short range missiles on the Kashtan system, or a total of 219 missiles. That three to two advantage meant that the Japanese might be able to neutralize the Russian SSM advantage. They would be able to allocate more than four SAMs to every SSM the Russians could throw at them.

But it would not merely be a question of surface ships firing missiles at one another. The new Kaga and Akagi were the real pair of jokers in this very long hand, and together they had eighteen F-35 strike fighters. They could carry the American AGM-154C JSOW, a standoff cruise weapon that could range out 70 kilometers. The range of the Lightning F-35’s could be added to that, over 2200 kilometers on internal fuel. Traditionally used in SEAD roles to suppress enemy air defense radars and missile sites, it could also be used against ships at sea, delivering a big 450kg warhead.

The carriers were a real game changer now, but there were still three cards in Karpov’s hand that could trump anything the Japanese had, the special warheads. Those, and the inherent stealth of Kazan, were all factors that would weigh heavily on the Russian side. Yet it now remained to be seen whether Karpov could even convince Volsky and Gromyko to see his point of view on what they must do here, and that was another marathon discussion that was soon to be arranged.

“So you are up to the same old game here, yes Captain? That is what I will call you, for I do not recall ever promoting you to Admiral. Do you?” Volsky was clearly not happy. He eyed Karpov with that same serious face that he had always worn when dressing down an officer. His eyes were hard under those full grey brows, a man who was used to wielding authority and not shy about doing so when the circumstances required it. But Karpov did not even flinch. There was little more than a thin smile on the other man’s lips.

They had all agreed to a truce by secure radio transmission, each side swearing on the Rodina that they would keep the peace until they had a chance to meet face to face and discuss their situation. Fedorov had been the peacemaker, convincing Volsky that they must at least meet to try and reach an understanding together. While Gromyko was not happy about revealing his position, a plan was worked out that would allow him to remain under cover.

Fedorov chose a tiny atoll well east of Truk called Pingelap. It was 175 miles south southeast of Ponape and just under a thousand miles from Truk to the northwest. Uninhabited, it would serve as a quiet place to meet. Kazan could get in close, and then put Volsky and Gromyko ashore by boat. Karpov then agreed to keep Kirov well south, ceding control of the ship to Rodenko while he traveled with Fedorov aboard a KA-40 to the island. Thus neither Kirov or Kazan were anywhere near one another. The two vessels were separated by over 100 nautical miles of ocean.

“Don’t think to lecture me here,” said Karpov. “Much has changed, and you are likely not aware of anything that has happened.”

“Quite the contrary,” said Volsky. “I am aware of everything that has happened, at least anything that this old Admiral was a part of. Let me see… we last spoke to one another in Murmansk, where you produced that clever little letter from Sergei Kirov, which meant nothing, really. Yet it was a very nice trap you laid for Mister Fedorov and I, and all so you could get your hands on my ship.”

“Let’s not tussle over that like a pair of hungry dogs with a bone,” said Karpov. “Possession is nine tenths of the law, and I control that ship at the moment. Yet this is quite interesting. How could you be here, knowing all that, when the man I spoke with in Murmansk was reported dead months ago?”

“Yes….” Volsky’s eyes darkened. “I remember that as well. Believe me, it is a very strange thing to be standing here, and able to remember the moment of your own death. One would think he would have made it to either heaven or hell to have such a recollection, and it appears I am back in the same old hell we created here, and find the devil up to his same old tricks.”

“Come now,” said Karpov. “You cannot lay the blame for all of this at my feet. It was your own doing as well… Or at least that of another Volsky I once knew. I suppose you know nothing of that, and can be forgiven.”

“Not at all, I remember that man as well.” Volsky pointed to his thick grey hair. “You see, this old head of mind is quite full now. Within it are the layered recollections of all these men, just like Director Kamenski tried to tell me. It was that way with him, and so it is with me. Time has poured a lot of tea into my cup, perhaps more than I can drink, but I do my best.”

“You mean you also recall our original mission? You remember the accident with Oran?”

“Of course, and all that followed. And I seem to recall you making a pledge to me in the Mediterranean that you would never betray me, or our ship and crew again if I sent you back to the bridge to help Mister Fedorov. Then there was that other promise you made me after I entrusted you with command of the Red Banner Fleet in the Pacific when we finally got home. So much for your promises. I had to board Kazan and hound you all the way back to 1908 to try and get you to see reason and withdraw from this nightmare, and now here we are with that same question before us again, for that is what we must do.”

Karpov had deliberately prodded the Admiral to see if he really did recall those events. He was still suspicious, for Fedorov could have told him these things secretly, so he asked one more question.

“Well Admiral, do you also recall a little meeting you and I had in the brig aboard Kirov—in the Med?”

“Of course,” said Volsky.

“You offered me something there at the end, do you recall it?”

“Offered you something?” Volsky thought for a moment, then smiled. “Vodka,” he said. “Just a little something to soothe raw tempers, on both sides.”

Karpov nodded. That was something Fedorov would have no knowledge of, and if Volsky ever told him about the meeting, it seemed unlikely that he would have conveyed that little detail. So Volsky was telling the truth. His head was filled with the memories of both the Admirals he knew… and there was also a third man in there, from another Meridian where the strange figure of Kamenski had emerged with this plan to purge the continuum of all contamination.

“Alright,” said Karpov. “We have business to discuss.”

“Fedorov tells me you have agreed that we must move the ship forward to our own time.”

“Yes, I agreed,” said Karpov, “but to which time? Which world—the one where the man who offered me that drink once lived, the one you came from before we met at Murmansk, or the one you were in before Kamenski arranged this little scheme?”

“A good question,” said Fedorov.

“Remember what I said earlier aboard Kirov? How can we move forward to places where we might already exist?” That had been one of Karpov’s most convincing arguments earlier, and Fedorov still remembered how he had laid out his thinking.

‘If we do this—shift forward—where in God’s name do you think we’ll end up? Did Kamenski talk about that?… Which 2021—from which meridian? Will we arrive back where we first started? Will we reach the future we may be building now on this altered meridian? Was that where Gromyko shifted in from with Volsky? Did you hear what he said? Volsky has a third layer of memories in that old head of his. He said he was just sitting at his desk at Red Banner Fleet headquarters when in walked Kamenski. How could he be doing that, when we both know he was supposed to be aboard Kirov? That means that timeline was not the original one we came from. It was a third world.’

‘So let’s explore this further. Was Kirov in that world along with Volsky? Kazan was. Were you there? Zolkin? The rest of the crew? Is there another version of me there… If I’m already there, what would happen if two more versions of myself try to shift to that world? Don’t you see? We can’t simply shift off to that future. Time won’t allow it. I’m all for rounding up all the other loose ends, but before we do anything more, we’ll have to all huddle and figure this out. There are too many unanswered questions.’

Too many unanswered questions indeed.

“I don’t think we can answer that,” said Fedorov. “It’s not something we can control. We’ll just have to leave it to Mother Time.”

“Yes, yes… the busy Mother Time,” said Karpov. “Won’t this create a very difficult problem for her—another Paradox?”

“Time will do everything possible to prevent that.”

“And perhaps everything impossible as well,” said Karpov. “Forgive me if I view that journey with some trepidation. Who knows what might happen to us? Don’t you realize that every time we shift, we place ourselves in the clutches of that woman? Time will be getting very annoyed with our meddling by now. Yes, we’ve broken her meridian into all these different possible futures, and if we do try to shift forward again, which hotel will she check us into? Believe me, we may not like the accommodations.”

“I thought you agreed that we would do this—move forward to the time where we belong.” Volsky had a suspicious look on his face.

“Yes, I agreed,” said Karpov. “I merely point out the difficulties—things we must consider. Unlike you, Admiral, my head holds only one set of memories—from the original meridian when we had that accident with Orel. My brother self has all the recollections from his world, and who knows if there is yet a third version of me in the world you just came from with Kamenski. Frankly, I don’t think I can go there. Time has no room reserved for me there.”

“But you may get back to the time line where you originated,” said Fedorov. “You don’t exist there after you took Kirov out to sea and vanished in the Pacific, so that is a safe haven, with no possibility of paradox occurring.”

“You believe Time is going to put all the shoes back in the correct box? Forgive me if I have my doubts about this.”

“It’s all she could do,” said Fedorov. “Each of us will get to a place where it is possible for us to manifest, and then that is the world where we must live out the rest of our lives.”

“That may be well and good for you,” said Karpov. “The Admiral can go back to his desk, and you, Captain Gromyko, can go back to your war in 2021. Who knows what she will do with you, Fedorov. Your head holds the memories of two lives, so it will have to be one of those. If you end up back on the original timeline, you and I might travel there together. As for my brother, he will have to take a separate train. We can’t share any of those possible futures together.”

“He’ll get to his world, the one he came from, and you’ll get to the original meridian,” said Fedorov, trying to put this issue to rest.

“Perhaps, but I’ve already seen that world. I told you I went up the stairway at Ilanskiy and it wasn’t very pleasant. Someone dropped a nuke on Kansk, so I get a nice little hell if I do this, a demotion from Admiral and head of the Free Siberian State, to a lowly Captain in the midst of World War Three.”

“It’s either that or we get to the dirty business here,” said Gromyko. He had been silent all this time, but became increasingly annoyed with Karpov’s freewheeling attitude.

Karpov gave him a long look. “Do you really want to lock horns with me, Captain?” He leaned heavily on that last word, letting the other man know that he saw himself as something much more than a Captain by rank, and a cut well above Gromyko’s pay grade.

Gromyko remained cool, calmly folding his arms. “I could ask you the same question?”

“Look,” Fedorov intervened. “This gets us nowhere. Whatever we do, we have to reach an accord here. There are other fish to fry. We’ve got Ivan Volkov to deal with, and we’ve also got Orlov at large somewhere, so this may take some time. Orlov is likely to reappear and I think that must be at Ilanskiy, but we can’t know when. He might have shifted into 1944, or 1945. We have no way of knowing, nor can we go to those times to look for him.”

“Good,” said Karpov. “No wild bear hunt for Orlov this time. I agree that he will probably appear at Ilanskiy, and I’ve already set the watch for him there. That’s all we can do. As for Volkov, we will have to take stronger measures. I may agree to move forward, but I do not think Volkov will.”

“Then we will have to persuade him,” said Volsky, “and you, Mister Karpov, can be a most persuasive man. We both know that Kirov has special warheads. Kazan has them too. So we can be very persuasive.”

“My, Admiral, you’ve certainly changed colors concerning the nuclear option. What do you suggest, that we nuke Orenburg? I’ve considered that, but its nearly 2000 miles from the Arabian Sea, and over 1500 from the Persian Gulf. We would have to be in the Black Sea to do so. That’s under a thousand miles range, and even then I’d have to make the delivery with one of the KA-40s… Unless of course Gromyko has something with better range than my P-900s. Who knows, we might get lucky and catch Volkov at home.”

“Perhaps the threat alone would be sufficient,” said Volsky.

“If we make such a threat,” said Fedorov. “Then Volkov would probably abandon that city, and then we’d never find him.”

“Oh, I’ll find him,” said Karpov. “My man Tyrenkov is very clever. His network will turn up the location of a man like Volkov easily enough. He’s a head of state, and trying to run a war with his good friend Adolf Hitler. We’d find him.”

“And then just nuke the location? He’s not stupid. You know he would move as far north on his territory as possible to get out of range of any sea based attack. Besides, we’d kill a whole lot of other people if we do that, and who can say if those lives might matter a great deal to the future?”

“Don’t get squeamish on us now, Fedorov,” said Karpov.

“That’s not my being squeamish. It’s just common sense. We’ve already done terrible damage here. Perhaps it’s irreparable. Shouldn’t we try something a little less traumatic? If it’s true what you say, and Tyrenkov can locate Volkov, then a good sniper might be the best way to proceed. Let’s use a needle to stitch away this problem, not a hammer.”

“I suppose you have a point there,” said Volsky. “Very well, but will we give this man an opportunity to come along of his own accord?”

“Volkov?” Karpov laughed at that. “No, I think he is too rooted here to give up his Orenburg Federation.”

“I see,” said Volsky. “And are you ready to give up your Free Siberian State?”Karpov gave him a narrow eyed stare.

Chapter 24

Admiral Kita looked over the results for some time. The vote was in from every ship, and there were two questions on the ballot. The first was answered with an almost unanimous vote in the affirmative—shall we use this task force to find and destroy the Russian ship Kirov? There was no question that the crew wanted that resolved, and they were ready for the battle that decision might bring. It was what they had trained for, and what they would be doing now if Kirov were at large in their own time to threaten Japan’s interests.

The second question was more difficult—assuming we prevail against Kirov, shall we use the power remaining to us to further the aims of Japan in this war? A ‘No” vote will prompt us to withdraw from the theater and remain neutral, allowing this history to proceed without further interference. After asking permission to do so, Fukada had campaigned on every ship to try and persuade the crews to see that they must support Japan. He was very persuasive, but even so, the results were close.

In the end, the measure passed by only five percentage points. The vote to withdraw and remain neutral was 47 percent, with 53% carrying the motion to give Japan a most unexpected offering, and a very powerful weapon of war. Those who opposed that choice were resigned to support the decision of the majority, slim as it may be. All had reservations, and most were still in the fog of disbelief, but they would muddle through just as so many others beset with this dilemma had done so before them. Yet the choice they made that day would count for much, in this world and those that might come after it.

When the decision was finally announced, Admiral Kita convened a meeting of all senior officers to plan strategy. In addition to Harada and Fukada, there were Captains Shoji Yoshida off the Akagi, Ichiro Akino from Atago, Kenji Namura from Kirishima, Hiroji Asano from Kongo, Hideo Hironake from the escort destroyer Takao, Daishin Shima from the destroyer Kurama, and lastly, Arimoto Tachino off the fleet replenishment ship Omi. The first item on the agenda was whether or not they would operate autonomously, independent of the prevailing Japanese authority.

“We are expected to escort that tanker out there to Yokohama,” said Harada. “Those were orders we received from Yamamoto himself.”

The Admiral wanted to be very careful here. His instinct was not to concede his authority to the men of this era. “Concerning those orders,” he said flatly, “they are cancelled until we reach a decision here as to how we wish to proceed. It is my opinion that this task force should remain independent, particularly during any operation that involves direct conflict with the Russians.”

“I will second that,” said Harada. “We told Yamamoto that we would answer to him, and do all in our power to serve. Yet when it came down to it, the presence of WWII era ships and planes in the engagement served more as a hindrance than anything else. They were just targets Karpov could hold hostage, ships and lives we felt compelled to defend.”

“Should we then inform Admiral Yamamoto that you will not arrive at Yokohama as ordered?”

“If I may, sir, I think I can handle that directly. But this raises the larger question of whether or not we should fully reveal ourselves to the men of this era. At present, there are only a very few officers of rank who know the truth concerning our identity. Many others have seen our ship, and seen us in combat. Knowledge of our advanced radars and weaponry are no longer a secret, even though it may remain a mystery largely spread by rumors. The fact is, the men of this era have already seen what Kirov can do, because that ship has been here for a very long time. We believe they may think of our missile technology as prototypes arising from a secret weapons program, and since Japan is already designing its own rocket weapons, that belief is given credence.”

“It is not far from the truth,” said Kita. “All these weapons have their origins here, at least in terms of the accelerated development this war catalyzed.”

“Quite true, sir. I should also say that our missiles have already aroused a great deal of curiosity. At the moment, knowledge of our real identity and origin is restricted to a very few high level officers, but rumors spread, and they can be very compelling. It appears that Admiral Nagano wants a sip of our tea, and we were considering how to handle that. The knowledge of our presence here could be as disturbing to people of this era as it was for us to find ourselves here.”

“That is understandable,” said Kita. “We might be able to pick a fight with the Russians here on our own terms, but the decision was also made to support Japan. I won’t ask how any of you voted, but that will be a delicate matter. We’ll have to cooperate with these people, but I’m reluctant to be ruled by them. You deferred to Yamamoto’s authority, and I can understand why, Captain Harada. I’m just not sure I can do the same. I would prefer to meet these men on equal terms. Opinions?”

The general consensus was that they would almost have to remain independent to properly use the power they had. “I have great respect for these men,” said Yoshida, “but as good as they were, I can’t see that they will understand how we should operate. Modern warfare is a whole different kind of organized violence. We can’t put ourselves in a position where they might order us to do something we know is not wise.”

“I think I can explain this to Yamamoto,” said Harada. “When we were sent north to go after Kirov, he placed us nominally under command of Admiral Kurita. Yet when it came down to the action, I found myself having to call the shots. Kurita didn’t like it, but he cooperated with us. I think he resents that, particularly since we could not accomplish our mission and were forced to withdraw. He took that shame upon himself, and bears us no good will. We must remember the pride these men carry, the dedication they have, and the loyalty. They will all give their lives for Japan, and their sense of honor and commitment here runs bone deep. You know how many of them took their own lives when Japan was defeated.”

“It is that defeat we hope to prevent,” said Fukada.

Captain Yoshida took note of that, even as he had when he first engaged the Chinese fleet. War started with flags and honor, national pride, and music, but it always ended in the same thing—death and destruction. His planes were not made of canvass and steel any longer, or even aluminum, but now became artful contoured compositions of carbon nanotube reinforced epoxy. However they were made, their intention was simple in the end—find and kill the enemy before they did the same to you. That was the order of the day they were taking on, and it gave him no joy to think he would be killing the ancestors of the men who stood by Japan for well over half a century. He had secretly voted to remain neutral here, but now he steeled himself for the fight ahead. How to prevent the inevitable defeat of Japan in this war?

“Yet that is a high mountain,” said Kita. “These men started this war with the order to climb mount Niitaka, and that’s what we have in front of us now. Kirov is our first order of business. After that, are there any opinions on strategy?”

Captain Asano off the Kongo spoke next, a trim professional officer, 35 years of age, short yet ‘squared away’ as some in the navy might say, and meticulous in his presentation and manner. “Most of us know this history well,” he said, “even though we are told it has already been twisted out of shape. We know that it was the overwhelming production capacity of the Americans that made the outcome of this war inevitable.”

“Yes,” said Harada. “Yamamoto knows that as well. He knew it before Pearl Harbor. After sinking five of the six U.S. fleet carriers in the first year of the war, the Americans have already reached parity with the arrival of three new Essex Class carriers. We all know that is the ship that wins this war for them, allowing them to defeat our navy and dominate the seas. Japan has attempted to redress that with a secret naval building program Yamamoto calls the Shadow Fleet. It is more extensive than it was in the history we know, and there will be ships here that were never built—hybrid designs born of fast conversions from cruiser and battlecruiser hulls. Even so, those Essex Class carriers will just keep coming, one after another.”

“Unless we stop them,” said Fukada.

Admiral Kita turned to regard him. “You’ve been rather eager here, Lieutenant Commander. No harm in that. War is no easy game, but how do you propose we operate to stop them?”

“We know the approximate delivery dates for each ship they have in the pipeline, and there are many things we can do to disrupt that chain. First off, we can take out the locks at the Panama Canal. That will make the transfer of new ships to the Pacific more difficult. Yet even that is only a halfway measure in my mind. I think we should go right to the source of the problem—the American shipyards.”

That raised a few eyebrows before Captain Namura off the Kirishima spoke. “There were over thirty shipyards on the east coast, and an equal number on the west coast,” he said. “They also had shipyards along the Gulf Coast and Great Lakes, another twenty there. That’s just too many targets to have any chance of making a dent in their production.”

“We don’t need to hit them all,” said Fukada. “We only need to worry about the biggest yards: Newport News, Bethlehem’s Fore River Shipyard, and the Brooklyn Navy Yard, and perhaps the yard at Philadelphia. They built all their carriers in those four yards. A lot of the others you mention just built liberty ships, landing craft, smaller vessels like destroyers, but the bigger yards could build anything, including their new battleship designs. The Iowa class was built at Brooklyn, Philadelphia and Norfolk Virginia. All these targets are in the same general area, and our F-35’s could hit those sites from well out in the Atlantic. If we take out the yards I’ve mentioned, it will seriously hinder their production of major ship classes like the carriers and battleships.”

“So you are suggesting we move to the Atlantic? Another Pearl Harbor, only this time against ships that have yet to be built?” Kita did not know what to think of that at this moment, but he was entertaining all opinions here.“We could do this,” said Fukada. “We take out the Panama Canal, then proceed south and round the cape into the Atlantic. They couldn’t do a thing to stop us, and we could carry out the strikes I mentioned with little difficulty. All their existing carriers would then be here in the Pacific, and fair game when we return. In effect, we turn off the pipeline at the source; then return here to finish the job. In a matter of three months, we can decide this war.”

“Very optimistic,” said Kita. “And what about their Atomic Bomb program? If we stop their carrier production wouldn’t they resort to that expedient sooner, or just accelerate their B-29 program?”

“Sir, we know where that program is being developed, and we can strike Alamogordo from the Pacific easily enough, or from anywhere within the Gulf of Mexico. There are places where we can get within 1000 kilometers.”

“The combat radius of the F-35B is just over 800 Kilometers,” said Kita, his eyes fixed on Fukada as he sized the man up. He had known him as an enterprising and dedicated officer, but was seeing more in the man here than he did in his own day. There was an edge to the Lieutenant Commander that almost seemed as though he had a bone to pick here. It was more than loyalty to Japan, an honorable trait. There was a shadow over his eagerness for this war.

“We can use the Osprey’s for mid-air refueling,” said Fukada, and Kita noted that the man had obviously been doing a great deal of thinking about all of this. “As for the B-29s,” said Fukada, “without their carrier power, Japan can stop them from taking the islands they used for their strategic bombing program. We can stop them from putting B-29s on Tinian, or anywhere else close enough to hit Japan, and we can stop them from delivering the bomb that ravaged our homeland. But first things first—we must stop their production of Essex Class carriers.”

Fukada was seeing things at the strategic root. While many of the others had entertained thoughts of intervening in the campaign now underway, Fukada advocated taking the war to the trunk of the tree, not simply trimming off its branches.

Admiral Kita took a long breath. “What do the rest of you think of Fukada’s proposal?”

“He makes a strong argument.” It was Captain Daishin Tachino, the master of the Navy’s fleet replenishment ship Omi. The Mashu Class AOR was a very valuable fleet asset, commissioned in 2005. In addition to providing fuel oil and aviation fuel, it had a large helideck and hangar to receive helicopters as big as the MH-53E Sea Dragon, which it could use to make deliveries to other ships in the task force. It had ample munitions stores and food supplies, and it also served as a hospital ship. At 25,000 tons full load, it was one of the largest AOR class ships in the world in its day, and capable of 24 knots to keep pace with a fast moving surface action group.

“My job is logistics and support. We’ve come a long way to get here, and there is fuel in Omi’s belly to take us back to home waters easily enough. I can top off your tanks here… perhaps twice. Now I just tabbed up some numbers that might sober things down here, no offense intended to the Lieutenant Commander. From our present position, it’s roughly 7,000 nautical miles to the Panama Canal. Swing down to Cape Horn and that journey extends to a little over 11,000 nautical miles. The carriers and Takami have fairly long legs and can just barely make that. But the other destroyers have less than half that range. So they’ll use their first refill just getting to that point. From there, it’s another 7,000 nautical miles to your targets on the east coast, which also requires another replenishment operation to get there. We can make it, but that will be all. I can’t get the fleet back to the Pacific, so this would be a one way trip.”

“Is there a way north?”

“Yes, but its January, a little cold up there.” Tachino tapped his pad again. “Figure 3,400 nautical miles to the Bering Strait, then if we can take the proverbial Northwest Passage and make it into the Baffin Bay, it would be a little over 8,000 total distance from here. But that passage without icebreaker support would be dangerous. This isn’t 2021. The waters here are cold, and the ice is thick and very prevalent compared to our time. That route also precludes any strike on the Panama Canal, but I’d say it’s a moot point. I think the northern route is closed until spring.”

“What if we head West?” Fukada suggested. “We can go to Yamamoto and request tanker support and refuel at Japanese controlled bases from here to Ceylon.” Fukada was unwilling to allow something as mundane as logistics to hamper his vision. Yet those very same numbers, and the issue of fuel, had largely decided which side Takami would have to throw in with when it first appeared. Now the constraints of fuel and endurance at sea were going to determine the reach of these operations.

“Yamamoto?” Admiral Kita nodded his head. “It seems that whether we want a free hand here or not, we still remain tethered to the Imperial Japanese Navy. We’ll have to cooperate with these men one way or another.”

“Yet it could also help solve this problem,” said Harada. “We might hit the Panama Canal using our own assets, but the only way I see us going around the Cape of Good Hope is by pairing down the task force to use fewer ships, and those with the best range. How far is it from Ceylon to the US East Coast?”

Captain Tachino pulled up the data in a few seconds. “About 11,000 nautical miles. Assuming we can use IJN fuel as far as Ceylon, and I can fill my gut with fresh fuel oil there as well, then I can get us to New York and back to Ceylon. Alternatively, I can get us from the target zone and down around the Horn into the South Pacific again, but we’ll be bone dry, and in the middle of nowhere.”

“Those seas will be in the U.S. sphere of influence,” said Kita.

“We can defend ourselves,” said Fukada.

“True, but the tankers Yamamoto would have to send would need major support to reach us,” Tachino cautioned.

“Gentlemen,” said Kita, “we’re getting ahead of ourselves with all of this. Our first mission is to find and kill this Russian ship.”

“It was just off Truk two days ago,” said Harada. “We might head southwest to find what we need now, more tanker support from our friends, before we tangle with our enemies. Something tells me they may be closer than we think.”