John Schettler - Altered States

“But sir…It’s not that. This situation is very unusual. Until the journey to 1908 we have always shifted to the 1940s at a point beyond our last visit there. If this is mid 1940, then that has changed and we are now here before the time of our first arrival. A year from now what happens in the North Atlantic? We were supposed to appear there, and that would not be possible if we are already here. So we cannot remain here. It is imperative that we leave before the time we first displaced here in July of 1941. Otherwise…Well I think something will have to happen to us if we remain.”

“Happen to us…That has a rather ominous tone to it, Mister Fedorov, but I believe I understand what you are saying now. There cannot be two ships, two crews, and heaven forbid two of me! So before the date of our first arrival here we must be elsewhere or suffer the consequences of that paradox.”

“Correct, sir. Remember that list of names Volkov got his hands on? There were no records on any of those men when we arrived at Vladivostok. It was as if they never existed.”

“And we could be added to that list if we remain here before the date of our first arrival.”

Kamenski had been listening closely and now he added his thought on the matter. “What you say is very interesting, Mister Fedorov, assuming this is the same meridian of time we were on before.”

That gave Fedorov pause. “What do you mean, sir?”

“I mean that much has happened to the world, and most of it our doing. This message you say you received-the Soviet States of Siberia? I have never heard of such a place. If something happened in 1908 to change the history, then the 1940s we find ourselves in now may not be the same as those you visited earlier.”

Fedorov took a moment to absorb that, but he realized Kamenski was on to something here. This was a time subject to the dictates of all the history that had come before it, and if Karpov did do something in 1908 to change the course of events…

“But I do not see how that is possible at the moment,” he said. Wouldn’t the history have to remain cohesive enough to give rise to the building of this ship? That would have to occur for us to even be here at this moment. It’s maddening, sir.”

“Yes it is,” said Kamenski. “Other men have gone mad over it-the Siren’s Song of time-yet we dare to sit here and listen, and it seems we have been bold enough to hum along as well! Remember that we remain loose variables at large in history until all these events reach some definite conclusion. We undertook the dangerous mission to try and reach the ship in 1908 and remove it from that time, and that we have done. But the job is not yet complete. We are still a needle in Mother Time’s finger as she darns her dress, and as long as we are here the possibility of changing everything that follows this moment still exists. That said, we must not be surprised to find that all the days between 1908 and this moment may have already changed, and that the world we sail in now is not the same one we left. I do not know if we can untangle that knot just yet, but at least we have a year before we would ever have to face that paradox you raise, which is plenty of time to shift elsewhere.”

“Try to verify that news feed you heard,” said Volsky, “and nail down our exact position in time. That would help. You must be able to find out what band BBC was broadcasting on. See if you can listen in on that, Mister Fedorov.”

“I’ve listened on shortwave 6195 and 9740, sir, but atmospheric conditions are not good at the moment. We are also detecting jamming. The Japanese naval facility at Sasebo is uncomfortably close, and if we were reported as an unidentified warship someone is likely to investigate.” The implications were not lost on anyone present.

“Here we go again,” said Volsky somewhat dejectedly. “They investigate, we try to remain silent and undetected, they get pushy and then we are forced to defend ourselves. The next thing we know we are at war with Japan. Well, I think we should contact Kazan at once and make arrangements to get those spare control rods over here. I believe we must put Chief Dobrynin’s plan into action as soon as possible.”

“Right sir, but there’s one more thing.”

“Yes, Mister Fedorov?”

“If this works, I very much doubt that we’ll both end up shifting to the same place in time, sir. In fact, I would guess that the odds on that would be very slim. I believe the two rods will definitely perform differently as the Chief suggests.”

“Then we may lose contact with Kazan altogether if we do this?” Volsky was obviously troubled.

“Yes sir, and Kazan may find itself adrift in time even as Kirov has been. Captain Gromyko is a good man from what I have seen, but Kazan is a powerful weapon, perhaps even more powerful than Kirov now. We have seen what a temptation that has posed.”

“Yes, he will have to listen to the Siren Song just as we have. Well, I do not think I can put the wax back in his ears, Mister Fedorov. He already knows the truth, even if his crew remains oblivious of our real situation. Everything we propose here now is a grave gamble, and perilous to even contemplate, but we must decide. Either we stay together here, and that will mean we are the most powerful force in the sea if this is the 1940s again. Or else we part ways, and each of us vanishes into the ether again to points unknown.”

Rodenko returned just as the Admiral was finishing, his face betraying news held in hand. “Whatever you decide, we must be quick about it, sir. Gromyko called to report fast screw noise off to the south and on a bearing to intercept our last reported position. We have no long range radar returns from the south yet, but Kazan’s sonar can actually hear things at a much greater range than the Fregat system.”

“Then the contacts are still well over the horizon?”

“Yes sir, but something is heading our way, and in somewhat of a hurry. I believe they may be fast destroyers or patrol boats. Their speed was estimated at just over 30 knots.”

“How far away are they?”

“Their sonar man is still listening, but he thinks the range is at least 150 kilometers at the moment. Assuming they are gaining on us at 16 knots, then they could be in visual range in about four hours.”

“We may not be ready to initiate another shift in that time.”

Dobrynin spoke up, offering to do what he could to get things moving again. “It will take about three hours to install both rods. I see no reason why we cannot make an attempt shortly after that.”

“Very well,” said Volsky. “Do what you can, Chief. I will inform Gromyko of the plan.”

* * *

Hours later Volsky was weary, though unwilling to take any rest, except for a brief time when he went below to the sick bay to visit with Doctor Zolkin. There the two men had spoken briefly of what they were now attempting to do, and as always, the Admiral sought the council of his close friend and long time confidant.

“So there you have it, Dmitri, we are about to pull the plug and go down the drain again. We hope to move forward this time, but we could slip into the past again. None of this has ever been certain, and we have never used these new control rods before.”

“This has been some vacation,” Zolkin joked.

“The problem is this…If I allow this, the two ships may be separated. One could end up in 2021, the other in 1990, or 1960. We just don’t know. In fact, Fedorov is of the opinion that it is almost certain that the two ships will not shift to the same time period.”

“He’s a sharp young man. We owe him a great deal.”