Nemesis

by John Schettler

  “The detonation, that was part of it,” said Fedorov. “Our propulsion system, particularly a certain control rod used by Chief Dobrynin in a routine maintenance procedure, was also involved. It has… unusual properties. We did not determine this for some time, and not until we had caused a good deal of damage to things here. The Captain has just gone off to the bridge. Well, when we were here last, that encounter we had the other day with those British cruisers did not play out so well. We were investigating the MET station at Jan Mayen, and had contacts to our south. As it turned out, the contact was a British naval task force under Admiral Wake-Walker. They launched a plane to investigate us, and you allowed it to overfly the ship, sir. Now we have a similar incident here, but I do not think Captain Karpov will be so gracious. That airborne contact is most likely a German reconnaissance plane out of Tromso, and if it is 50 kilometers out, it should reach us in about 15 minutes.”

  “A German plane…” Volsky nodded. “You mean to say this is an aircraft from the Second World War? Still in service?”

  “Yes sir. That is where we are now, in 1941. It might be a Henschel-126, but it is most likely a Dornier-18, or possibly a bigger Focke-Wulf 200 Condor. The former is a seaplane, sir, a flying boat, and I think this more likely. They would use their Condors for much longer range sorties, and the Dornier would patrol in close like this.”

  “I see… Anything more?”

  That sounded as though the verdict was near in Volsky’s mind, and Fedorov knew he had not convinced these men of anything other than the fact that he might be deluded by his own love of history. How could he get through to them with the truth?

  “Sir… There will be no investigation at Severomorsk, because the base has only just been established there. The MET station is missing on Jan Mayen, because it has not yet been built. I know this because it happened once before, and I lived through it. We all did. Why I’m the only man aboard who seems to remember anything, I cannot say, but I do remember. The encounter with the British became more serious when we ran into one of their destroyers off Jan Mayen. An engagement was unavoidable, and that started a lengthy pursuit by the British task force. We elected to transit the Denmark strait, and they naturally assumed we were a German raider and acted accordingly.”

  “There was no recall order to Severomorsk?”

  “No sir. Once we completed the investigation of Jan Mayen, enough evidence had accumulated to convince us of what had happened. The plane that overflew us was a Fairy Fulmar, and I was able to identify it when it did so. Yet only one such plane still existed in our day, and in a British museum. In like manner, the encounter with that British destroyer was most convincing, along with the HD video feeds we collected of Wake-Walker’s task force. I could clearly identify the aircraft carriers Furious and Victorious, just as I was able to identify those two County class cruisers here.”

  “Fedorov…” said Zolkin with a sigh. “Why is it that no one else has any memories of these events? The Admiral here certainly has no recollection of anything you are saying, nor do I. Have you thought about that?”

  “I don’t know… But I do remember, Doctor. I remember everything we did when this first happened to us.”

  “Then this is why you were in engineering?” asked Volsky. “You wanted to see if Dobrynin was using this control rod you spoke of?”

  “Yes sir. He runs a rod inspection procedure every 12 days, and he had completed this just before the accident on Orel. The spare control rod inserted at that time, Rod-25, was somehow catalyzed by the detonation, and together they caused this ship to move in time. We did not know this at first. Chief Dobrynin detected some odd flux in his reactors, but that was all. Then, twelve days after we appeared here, he ran the maintenance procedure again, and we moved.”

  “Moved?”

  “In time, sir. We shifted again, but unfortunately, the damage was done by then. This incident where you suffered vertigo occurred somewhat later in that go round, and the Captain had full control of the ship. When he realized what had happened to us, he saw this as an opportunity to attempt to alter our future history, and he intervened, taking a very hard line against the British.”

  “In what way?”

  “He attacked them, sir. The Royal Navy is very efficient, and believing we were a German raider, they began to muster their considerable resources to intercept us. Karpov would have none of that. He engaged any ship that presented a possible threat, but he had a deeper motive.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Sir… As this was the first time these events occurred, the history we found ourselves in was completely intact. Churchill was at sea, bound for the meeting with Roosevelt at Argentia Bay. The Atlantic Charter resulted from that meeting, and Karpov believed that was the founding document that NATO was eventually built upon. He seemed determined to intervene, for Russia’s sake, as he argued it, and when threatened by increasingly substantial forces deployed by both the Americans and British, he resorted to extreme measures—a special warhead.”

  “You say he used a nuclear weapon?”

  “Yes sir—against the Americans this time. They were relieving the British garrison on Iceland, transferring men and aircraft there on one of their carriers, which Karpov attacked and sunk, over my objection. He would not listen to me, sir, and had me relieved. The Americans reacted predictably, mustering a strong task force to come after us, and this he destroyed with a special warhead. That detonation occurred on the twelfth day, the same day Chief Dobrynin ran his scheduled maintenance procedure. Just as it happened with Orel, the ship was again displaced in time.”

  “Where to this time Fedorov?” asked Zolkin. “World War One? Let me guess, you’ve been doing a little reading on that war too.” The Doctor was having a very hard time swallowing any of this, and Fedorov could see that he was beginning to sound like a blathering idiot here, a man so caught up with his love of history that he was projecting it on the cold reality of these events.

  “I know what this sounds like, Doctor, but it is exactly what happened. It is a very long story, but we eventually found ourselves in June of 1940, where we remained until mid year, 1941. It was May, and then something happened to the ship again, and we shifted. We could not determine where we were, and the ship and crew were in danger, so we decided to try and use the control rod procedure one last time to see if we could avoid complications. The next thing I know, I was on the bridge, here on the ship as always, only I was startled to find something had changed.”

  “What was that? “ Volsky was still listening, extending his young Navigator every benefit of the doubt, as troubled as he was to hear and see Fedorov in this state of mind.

  “Well sir, we lost men in the course of all that time, and one of them was Chief Orlov. When I saw him on the bridge, I was quite surprised. But the appearance of the Captain was the real shock. He wasn’t supposed to be aboard at that time.”

  “And that is when you fell ill,” said Zolkin. “Understandable, Mister Fedorov.”

  “I’m still not sure how this happened, Doctor, but the fact remains that I can remember everything that occurred. And now it has all started again—only that recall order has changed things this time. Thankfully, we’ve avoided that first engagement with the British, and I think we can thank Admiral Tovey for that. He was our staunch ally in that last year while we were here.”

  “Admiral Tovey,” said Zolkin with a nod. “This is the commander of the British Home fleet in 1941.”

  “Correct. We were steaming with him in May of 1941. In fact, there was a battle underway, when the ship displaced again, and…”

  Fedorov stopped himself, looking from Zolkin to the Admiral, and realizing that he was sounding like a deluded fool.

  “I knew this would be difficult,” he said. “I know it sounds completely insane. You will not believe me—until things start again here. Those surface contacts to our south are most likely the 6th Destroyer Flotilla out of Tromso. If they do intercept us, the truth of wh
at I am saying to you now will become evident. I could have waited for that, kept my silence, but I could see that my effort to control the situation by other means was doing nothing but arousing suspicion on the Captain’s part. But everything I have told you is true, and it will be proven true if we do go to Severomorsk, because the world we are sailing in now has been changed by the things we did. This you will soon see for yourself, and then this madman you now believe is standing before you, and needing a long rest, will be vindicated.”

  Silence. Volsky’s expression was almost one of a father listening to his own sun explain some transgression, wanting to listen and forgive, but hearing too much to overlook.

  “Mister Fedorov,” he said at last. “That’s quite a tale you have told here, and yes, it sounds completely unbelievable, just like this sun and moon question. Leaving aside the issue of truth or fallacy for the moment, may I suggest two things to you here? First off, this business about the use of nuclear warheads… That can only be ordered by me, Mister Fedorov, not the Captain, and the default setting on our fail safe protocol requires two command keys. The second thing I would like you to think about is that recall order we have received from Moscow, correctly formatted as it should be if it were sent in our own time, 2021, and utilizing the correct final authentication code as well. Assuming everything you have said is true, and we are now sailing about in WWII, are you telling me the men of this day and time would be able to send us such a message?”

  “No sir, but one man alive in this world now would—Captain Karpov. I have not yet told you everything…”

  Chapter 12

  “Karpov?” Volsky set his tea cup down and folded his arms. “You are suggesting that the Captain somehow arranged for that message to be sent to us? That he may have sent it himself?”

  “Yes sir… but no… not the man here with us now.”

  If they thought I was mad before, thought Fedorov, then they will be certain of it if I reveal what I truly think has happened here. I have already said enough, and in truth, I’m not really certain about that recall order. Stay in the here and now. Reveal things that bear on this moment, and the days ahead. If I try to tell them everything, it will be like pouring more tea into Volsky’s cup than it can hold, and more than he could ever hope to drink. Easy now. Take things slowly.

  “Concerning the Captain,” he began. “I was shocked to see him here because in the course of our experience in the past, he was separated from the ship. In fact, we believed he was lost in action, until I discovered otherwise.”

  “Tell me,” said Volsky, still trying to give his Navigator a fair hearing, though Fedorov could see that Doctor Zolkin was becoming a little restless. Then the sound of a harsh warning claxon sounded, and Fedorov started, though he expected what he now heard.

  “Missile warning,” he said. “It’s begun…”

  The sound of the Klinok medium range air defense system was unmistakable. Fedorov had heard them launch, seen them streak away to find and destroy their enemies, counting each one with the knowledge that every kill they recorded was a blight upon the integrity of the history, and a potential hammer blow to the future they had all come from. They fought by reflex at first, a reflex for survival, to protect the ship and crew from harm. Yet now, with all he had seen and done, Fedorov had the sinking feeling that they had elevated themselves above the fate of countless millions, the unborn souls waiting to take their place in the world, and their selfishness could be blamed for all the harm they had caused.

  Somewhere out there, he pictured that unsuspecting German flight crew in his mind. They would see it coming, wondering what it was. Would they be clueless as the British were before, or did they still know of the terrible foe that lurked in these northern seas? Were their memories erased with this second coming, or did they know what they would be seeing?

  Then a thought came to him that spoke of the answer—Tovey! I sent out a code word he had devised for this ship—Geronimo—and he responded. I used a message format that we all agreed upon at the Alexandria conference. Tovey had to know. He still remembered. If that is so, then perhaps this memory loss was like that heavy fog that had enveloped the ship. Perhaps the more he revealed, the greater the likelihood that he might jog something loose here in the Admiral’s mind.

  “The Captain is a most efficient man,” said Fedorov. “That missile will end the immediate threat, but in exchange the Germans lose an aircraft this morning, and more men die. These are the first to die at his hands this go around, but they will not be the last. When Karpov realizes what he has just fired at, and surely killed, he will become a very dangerous man. He will see his position here, at this pivotal time in history, as a godsend. He will argue that we must use the ship, and the power we have, to alter the course of events in a way that favors our homeland, and he will determine that he, personally, must be the man to control that destiny. He will stop at nothing, sir. In fact, he attempted to seize control of this ship while you were disabled with this vertigo incident.”

  “What? Karpov? You are speaking of mutiny?”

  “He did, sir, but it failed when I came here to sick bay and discovered what he had done. He locked the hatch from the outside, sealing the two of you here, and he cut the intercom cable. During that interval, and with the ship in battle, he was able to enable one of our special warheads, the number ten missile on the MOS-III system. That was the warhead that destroyed the American task force, and with it everything began to change. You were able to regain control of the ship, Admiral, thanks to Sergeant Troyak and the Marines, who sided with you. And this was not the first time Karpov took direct action against other officers on this ship.”

  Now Fedorov looked at Doctor Zolkin. “At one point, he attempted to…” He stopped himself, thinking it might not be good to tell Zolkin that Karpov might shoot him! Then he realized that, from the look on Zolkin’s face, the Doctor was coming to a conviction that he must be seriously disturbed. He was taking Fedorov’s hesitation as confusion and further disorientation.

  “Easy now, Mister Fedorov,” said Zolkin. “Yes, things have been very trying these last few days. We’ve all felt it, the loss of both Orel and Slava was a hard blow. Here now… Suppose I get you something to help it all sit a little easier in your gut—just a mild sedative.”

  “I don’t need medication, Doctor.”

  Now Volsky pinched the bridge of his nose, looking weary. “Well this has been quite a lot for breakfast,” he said. “Mister Fedorov, would you excuse us now? You are not scheduled to take your post until the noon shift, yes? In that case, I exempt you from duty at your battle station. If you have not yet eaten, please do so. But otherwise, take Doctor Zolkin’s advice and go rest in your cabin. I will discuss what you have told us with the Doctor here, and we will consider the situation. Hopefully, I can get myself up to the bridge and see what is going on there for myself.”

  “But sir… There is more. The situation is very grave. I checked my research, and there could be a submarine threat soon, not only from German U-boats, but also from our own subs patrolling off the North Cape—Soviet vessels.”

  “Well enough, Fedorov,” said Zolkin. “We stand warned.”

  “Karpov has a kind of phobia where submarines are concerned, sir. He may do something that could complicate matters here.”

  “I understand,” said Volsky. “For now, let me consider what you have said. Dismissed, Mister Fedorov. Rest in your quarters. This is an order.”

  *

  When Fedorov had left them, reluctantly, Zolkin looked at his old friend and took a long breath. “A troubled young man,” he said slowly. The sun and moon business was enough of a mystery for us to solve, but clearly Fedorov is suffering more than I realized. I’m sorry, Leonid. I should have taken the matter of his injury more seriously. I’ll call on him later in his quarters with some medication that may help the situation.”

  “You believe he is deluded?”

  “It’s obvious what is going on with him now,�
�� said Zolkin. “Yes, the quiet young man who was always lost in his history books has now become something more.”

  “Yet he sounds so rational, so convinced of what he is saying.” The Admiral scratched his head.

  “That is what is troublesome for me,” said Zolkin. “When one becomes too convinced of his delusion, it can lead to psychosis. Perhaps it was the shock of losing Orel and Slava. It affected us all, as I tried to explain. In this case, however, Fedorov’s attempt to put things in order has brought him into conflict with Karpov, not to mention Orlov. Those were some very strong accusations the Captain leveled here—enough to rattle any young officer. Karpov is a formidable figure, particularly when he has put the Chief onto someone, as he clearly has here with Fedorov.”

  “Then you believe our young Navigator has dreamed up this story as a way of trying to defend himself from the Captain?”

  “It certainly seems that way, Leonid. He’s projecting his fascination for the history on this situation. When we lost satellite links, and his Loran-C signal went down, it was like someone cutting the links to reality for him. So he tries to navigate by the stars, and suddenly says the sun and moon are wrong. These are the things he relies upon for a sense of certainty, and suddenly they were gone. Yes, it has been quite a mystery as to how and why this has happened, and what has also happened to Slava, and men will react differently in such stressful situations. Throw in that head injury, and Fedorov retreats in his mind to the one thing that is a certainty, the integrity of his history books, where events are fixed, as though riveted in stone. Suddenly he sees Karpov as a threat to that history, which is really just a mask for his fear over what may be really happening here—another war, one possibly much worse than the one he spends all his time reading about. His reaction naturally runs afoul of the Captain, and so he creates this story of how Karpov has conspired with the Chief to seize control of the ship.”