John Schettler: Stormtide Rising

Karpov was finally telling it like he saw it, and now Fedorov had another angle on why he had instinctively resorted to the use of a special warhead. As powerful as Kirov was, it was not invulnerable any longer. A carrier with good strike planes was still top dog, and it wasn’t likely that Kirov would ever get close enough to the flattop to use its missiles.”

“Yet you beat Tanner and that American Carrier task force,” said Fedorov.

“Yes, but I had fighters off the Admiral Kuznetsov , five other ships, and strong support from our land based bombers, not to mention three good missile boats under the sea, including Kazan . That’s how I beat Tanner, and I also had that massive eruption cloud to force him to divert his strike waves.”

It was clear to Fedorov that Karpov was now telling him they could just as easily lose the next fight with the Japanese. If that happened, that task force would remain here in 1943, and how long would it be before they began to intervene in the battles now underway?

“You told me we were going about this the wrong way,” he said. “But you haven’t explained that.”

Karpov opened his desk drawer, and pulled out a Japanese fan, opening it. “Something I picked up in Vladivostok,” he said. “I actually had it with me on Tunguska , and had it shipped aboard here with my sea chest—just a little souvenir from that time.”

“What time?”

“1908.” Karpov smiled. “Look at this another way, Fedorov.” He touched the base of his open fan. “Here is that time—1908. We both know that it all started there, with the Tunguska event. Then all these segments of the fan are the future that event gave rise to. Look how they fan out in all directions. We’re on one of them, this particular Meridian, and probably right about here.” He fingered a mid-point on one of the fan segments. “And way out here at the top edge, let’s say that is 2021. See how the trouble fans out, getting wider and more pronounced as the change initiated in 1908 migrates forward in time?”

“Yes,” said Fedorov. “A very good analogy.”

“Well were here in the middle of this fan and trying to fold it closed again, so we can get rid of the Japanese, and Volkov, and everything else we discussed. Just as we swat one interloper, and kill Takami , we find all these new uninvited guests, and now they’re out to kill us!”

“Not very promising,” said Fedorov.

“Agreed. Face it, Fedorov, even if we do get lucky and kill those other Japanese ships, we’ve still commissioned many more on either side of this war. My intel service tells me that the Japanese are building out new hybrid carrier designs as fast as they can. This war is off on its own tangent now, and if we survive our next engagement, I doubt we’ll have much left to change these other things.”

“Yes…” said Fedorov. “We’d have to sink them all.”

“What? Did you think we could just go hunting and sink all the aberrant new ships that set sail because of our meddling? Then what about the history? There was no battle of Midway here. Moscow burned. The Germans are in Baghdad! No, too much has changed. After that, there’s Ivan Volkov, the Orenburg Federation, and everything happening elsewhere in this war. We can’t do what we thought we could—what we agreed to in our little tryst. Yes, you thought it was possible, but I’m telling you now that it isn’t. I knew that from the very first, but I agreed to go along with you and Volsky because I didn’t want to make an enemy of Gromyko. He was sent here by Kamenski to kill this ship, if you recall, but the Director wasn’t going to solve the problem that way either. It just isn’t possible now with this new flotilla of Japanese ships out there… But we have another solution, and I think you know what it is.”

Fedorovlowered his head. He had felt this himself, realized the staggering odds stacked against them, but he had been willing to try. What else was there to do but try? Yet now Karpov was finally leveling with him and saying that their whole mission and plan was clearly not going to work.

“So you’re saying all of this is for naught,” he said. “It’s all just an exercise in futility.”

“Yes, it is…. From this point in time.”

That subtle pause when Karpov spoke was filled with an enormous amount of unspoken information.

“You mean….”

“Yes,” said Karpov. “I mean that we cannot succeed with our plan here—not in 1943. It will be nothing more than an exercise in futility, as you say, and it will also likely lead to the death of this ship and crew. But look here.” He tapped the lower base of the fan, the point from which each colorful segment originated, all fanning out into the future.

“The source of all our torment is here—in 1908. I realized this the moment I found myself there after I sunk those American battleships in 1945. I shifted back, but not Orlan , and that will always be on my conscience—yes, I still have a soul, in spite of what you may think of me.”

“You’re suggesting we go back again—to 1908?”

“That is the source, the real point of origin—the point of divergence in time that changed everything that came after. Isn’t that correct? I knew this the moment I found myself there, and I set about using the power I had to try and set things right. I would have succeeded there too—until Kazan appeared on the scene. You and Volsky thought you were doing the world and time a great favor by coming back after me, but you had it all wrong, Fedorov. I was the one chance you had at fixing this damn mess, and I’m telling you now that it simply cannot be done here in 1943. You knew that yourself when you went back on that mission to get after Sergei Kirov.”

“But you ordered me to abort that mission.”

“Yes, and you disobeyed. Now don’t tell me it was because I took that shot at your helo. You know damn well that was just a thin cover for what you really wanted to do. You knew it then, and you know it now—1908 is the key. It’s the only place where we can find a lever strong enough to move the whole world. 1908, Fedorov. That’s where we have to go if we are to have any chance at setting things right. And there you were, sucked back there again under some very mysterious circumstances, because Mother Time knows that’s the only place she could drop you to have any chance at putting all the broken china back together. When it came right down to it, you lost your nerve. You couldn’t kill Sergei Kirov and stop him from killing Stalin with that very same bullet. You thought we could fix things here, and you decided to come back, roll up your sleeve, and get busy. Well, here’s another little secret that you may already know. I never thought we could put things back the way they once were. Never. What’s done is done. All we could do was work to shape the new world that was coming, but now I see even that is self-serving crap.”

“Honesty cuts like a knife at times,” said Fedorov. “You’re right—I did lose my nerve. But so did you when you called off my mission.”

“No, that was just pure selfishness on my part,” said Karpov. “I’m not ashamed to say it. I made the same choice that Lucifer did. I simply decided it was better to rule in hell than to serve in heaven. I was quite comfortable after fighting my way to the top of the heap in the Free Siberian State. Yes, I was quite comfortable here on my battlecruiser, and with the power to bring Yamamoto and Tojo to their knees, until Takami showed up, and now we get all her friends. But I never thought, for one minute, that I was crusading to restore the time line as it once was. That can’t be done from here. I’m telling you that it can only be done from 1908. That said, I simply decided I would prefer to live out my life here. Selfish, certainly. I’m a narcissistic bastard, but I was going to be a very content bastard here in the 1940s, and I was going to rule the roost. Now, however, it seems that someone has crashed my party. It isn’t going to be fun here from this point forward. Kazan came gunning for me, but I managed to get that situation under control. Now we’ve got the Japanese to worry about.”