Nemesis

by John Schettler

  “This is crazy! You are speaking of this as if it has already happened.”

  “Because it has. You lived through it all—or rather I did, and I found it very awkward to find myself entering 1941 with the thought of what might happen come July 28th, the day we first slipped, and found ourselves here—the day you would arrive here again. You see, in the course of these events I had a rather bad disagreement with Admiral Volsky. I was separated from the ship, but I made the best of my situation. The knowledge I had of the future gave me quite an edge, and I became a man of some importance in Siberia. Yes… there I was… there you were, and July 28th looked like a bad storm on the horizon. What would happen, I wondered? Would I survive, or would it be you? It never occurred to me that we might both survive that day, but that should be abundantly clear to us at this moment.”

  The Captain took off his cap. Leaning forward and squinting at the man, but as he did so, he could also feel a sudden stab of pain. He stepped back, shaken, astounded, bewildered, and yet there he was. He was staring at his own self, as clear as the image he might see in any mirror, but it was a darker self, more weathered, and bore the scars of things this man was trying to describe, impossible things, the insanity of this moment high on that list. They would each feel the weight of what they now knew, even if they would never really quite understand it, or how it could happen.

  But they could feel it. The Captain could feel the truth in what the other man was saying now, just as he could feel the pain if he edged too close to the man. It was true. There he was, Vladimir Karpov, Captain, Admiral, call him what you will. A rose was a rose, by any other name, and here was the black rose of his own being, its thorny stem bringing it to this dark bloom, over many months and years of pain and struggle.

  “No closer…” said the Siberian, torn between his desire to see the Captain more clearly, and the pain it provoked. “You feel it too, don’t you. Yes, that terrible pain, as though the universe simply cannot abide the mistake it has made here. I would embrace you, brother, but let us be cautious here and not test God’s patience. We can come no closer, but accept now what I am telling you. We are one and the same. You are my brother, and I am yours, your own self, and it is now 1941. I will spare you the journey I had to take to get where you see me standing now, but together we will rewrite that unfortunate history, and become something more than either of us could ever be on our own. So welcome home, Vladimir, I have so much to tell you. We have much to plan and do here together, and it will begin with that ship out there.”

  He smiled, and it was as if the Captain could read the man’s inner thoughts. He looked at the scar on his face, and some deep inner memory returned to him, upwelling from a darkness within him that seemed unfathomable. He saw himself on the weather deck off the bridge, a pistol in his hand, and the sea all around him erupting with flame and fire, a roiling sea battle underway, and then the memory vanished.

  Yes, welcome home, my brother, thought the Siberian, and perhaps my nemesis as well, from the pain I feel in being this close to you. Yet he forced himself to smile through that pain, and saw the Captain smiling as well.

  “Understand?” said the Siberian.

  And the Captain understood.

  Part VIII

  The Second Chance

  “Then Jonah prayed to the Lord his God from the belly of the fish, saying, “I called out to the Lord, out of my distress, and he answered me; out of the belly of Sheol I cried, and you heard my voice. For you cast me into the deep, into the heart of the seas, and the flood surrounded me; all your waves and your billows passed over me. Then I said, ‘I am driven away from your sight; yet I shall again look upon your holy temple.’ The waters closed in over me to take my life; the deep surrounded me; weeds were wrapped about my head ...”

  ― Jonah, 2:1-10

  Chapter 22

  The carefully laid trap had closed. The Siberian now had Volsky, and Fedorov under his thumb, and far easier than he thought things might have gone. Now this unexpected dividend, a duplicate self! He could not begin to fathom the arcane mysteries of time that had led to this, though he still felt that it was his own importance that made him irreplaceable in this milieu, so much so, that time was forced to double down on the wager he had made as he approached the fearsome possibilities inherent in Paradox Hour.

  Yet he had survived, they had both survived, and now it was time to embrace his brother self, and weave him into the tapestry of plans he had been creating these last months. The object of his desire was now tantalizingly close. He had only to attend to a few details before he stood once again on the bridge of Kirov.

  “Brother,” he said, the moonlight gleaming in his dark eyes. “Now we must plan. I came here for the ship, but finding you was more than any man could have hoped for, the greatest shock and surprise of any lifetime. Now we must decide how we move forward.

  “You came for the ship? My ship?” said the Captain.

  “Our ship,” the Siberian said quickly. “Yes, we are its rightful Captain, and you will be pleased to know that we will no longer have to stand in Volsky’s shadow. The time is August of 1941, this you must know and believe, but things have changed. Our nation was torn apart by a long simmering civil war that never ended in this version of the history, because Stalin died as a young man, and now Sergei Kirov rules in his place.”

  “Kirov? But he was assassinated.”

  “Yes, by Stalin. Well, apparently he got to Stalin first.”

  “You are certain of this?”

  “Of course, I was with him in Moscow only yesterday, arranging this little welcome for Volsky. As this ship serves the interests of our nation, in any time, Sergei Kirov has given me full authority to take it under my command, and soon I will board to take my place on the bridge. The problem is, I cannot have you there with me, as much as I might wish to do so.”

  “What? You came here to take the ship, and now you think to leave me stranded here along with Volsky?”

  “No, brother. Hear me out. Can you imagine the reaction of the crew now should the two of us stride aboard? Consider that for a moment. You have been batting this situation around with Volsky and Fedorov for days now, looking at videos, investigating that desolate island to look for the weather station, yet the crew is completely clueless. You have seen Severomorsk first hand here, and had the shock of encountering your own doppelganger, a refugee in time, come home at last. All of this must have been very trying, but by now it has removed any doubt of what has happened to the ship, and where we truly are. But the crew? They are not ready. Right now it is only whispers and rumors, but few have really seen anything. Yes, they know something very strange is going on, but cannot grasp the real truth yet. They must be weaned from their old lives, and brought slowly into the realization of what has happened.”

  “Of course,” said the Captain.

  “Then you also understand that to see us both now, side by side on the ship, would be too much of a shock at the beginning, just as it is also a physical shock to us both when we draw near one another. Most inconvenient, but I suppose Mother Time has her rules. We must be a terrible affront to her dignity, and the pain we feel when near one another is the result. So here is what I propose… But first let me tell you what I have been doing these last few years, and how I came to be here.”

  He told the story, summing up the early sorties in time, but omitting the tale of his failed attempts to take the ship earlier. He merely stated that in the course of these events he became separated from the ship, and had to fare for himself. Explaining the presence of Ivan Volkov was going to be difficult, so he merely painted him as another figure rising from the skewed history to fill the vacuum Stalin’s death created. He said nothing of Ilanskiy, or who Volkov really was, inwardly making the excuse that it was all too complex to get into now, though he knew he was lying to his own self, and in more ways than one.

  “So I took over the Air Corps in Siberia, and command of the western front opposite Orenburg and Volkov�
�s forces. He is our mortal enemy, brother, and I have already fought many battles against that man, on land and in the sky. Our last engagement was costly, though the price he paid was much higher. It was my intention to finish what we started, continue to build my airship fleet, and bring Volkov to his knees. Yes, his fleet greatly outnumbers us now, but with my skill in battle, I have held the balance, and kept Volkov in check. The General Secretary has now given me two more airships, and with weapons and radars from the lockers aboard Kirov, my fleet will now be stronger than ever!”

  He shared his plan for transferring Oko panels and light hand held missiles to his airships, to make them invincible in battle with Volkov’s fleet. “You see?”

  “That is why you came for the ship, to get this technology edge?”

  “In part, but think, brother…. What happens come December in the far east?”

  “Japan,” said the Captain.

  “Correct. We faced them before, and they were our most determined and formidable foe. I cannot get into it all now, but the ship had already sustained damage and we were slowly running out of air defense missiles. The Japanese have six fleet carriers, and thousands of planes. And do you know what they also have? Vladivostok!”

  “What? That never happened in the history.”

  “It has this time. It was an unfortunate incident back in 1908, a disaster largely precipitated by Volsky’s meddling, and our young Navigator.”

  “Fedorov? What could they have done to cause the loss of Vladivostok?”

  “One day I will explain it all to you in detail, but we have little time now. The Japanese have Vladivostok, and more. They now control all of Sakhalin Island, portions of Kamchatka, all of Primorskiy Province, and even have troops within a hundred kilometers of Lake Baikal!”

  “My God,” said the Captain.

  “Yes,” the Siberian said quickly. “That all happened well before the war, but now Japan is about to become a belligerent in this conflict, and who knows what else they have their eyes on. We’ve lost our only port in the far east, and I am going to redress that wrong, but to do so I need the ship. Now that I have discovered you exist, I desperately need you as well.”

  “Then let us board together. The men will come around.”

  “That they will, but what about my airship fleet? I need a firm hand and a skilled battle tactician to take my place as Admiral of the Siberian Air Corps.”

  “And you want me to do this? I know nothing of airships, or how they fight.”

  “Nor did I a short while ago, but I discovered that commanding an airship was very much like being a Captain of a ship at sea, only you move in three dimensions instead of only two. I took to it like a duck to water, as you will.”

  “Then why not continue on in that role, and I will take the ship east, if that is your plan. That seems the proper way to do this, as you have invested so much in securing your position in Siberia. Don’t you belong there?”

  “True, but I think it best if I take Kirov at the outset. You see, I know everything that has happened. I can use the time as we sail east to slowly brief the men, and bring them to the fighting crew they were for me before. We arrived, fought in the Atlantic and the Mediterranean, and then sailed on to the Pacific in the most dangerous fighting ship on this earth. I have sunk American carriers and battleships, smashed the great Japanese flagship Yamato, and so much more. Now I plan to finish the job—or rather begin that task again. We will finish it together. I know what you can do, brother, and you must know it as well. We have taken on all comers, and beaten them all—even the American 7th Fleet in 2021.”

  “What? You fought there too?”

  “I will tell you how and why one day. But suffice it to say that I am well seasoned by all of these battles at sea. While you have great potential, you have yet to see your first real combat. On the other hand I am kinetic, proven, a veteran, and with full situational awareness of what is happening here. Therefore I must take command of our principle asset now, and you will take command of the Siberian Air Corps in my place.”

  “You take the goddamned ship and I get command of a fleet of obsolete Zeppelins?” The Captain was clearly unhappy.

  “Come now, consider this well. These are not obsolete aircraft. Do you know I had the temerity to overfly Germany, and I actually bombed Berlin with my flagship, Tunguska, a truly marvelous ship. There are things it can do that will amaze you. I took down six of Volkov’s airships, and now, with radars and missiles from Kirov, Tunguska will be the largest and most powerful airship on earth! Think, brother. Consider just what I have told you here. There is so very much more to learn before you will be fully effective. You must gain experience and knowledge, get your feet rooted firmly in this era, and together we will plan the fate of all the decades yet to come. Yet now, for the moment, you must take the role of the Devil’s Adjutant here. Surely you can see that. At times it will be necessary for us to switch places, and you will command the ship, while I attend to business in Siberia. We will share command. I promise you this.”

  The Captain considered, realizing how crazy it was to even be having this conversation with himself. But the Siberian was correct. There was simply too much he did not yet know about this situation, and that ignorance could be very costly. He nodded slowly, realizing that he was now hearing the advice and appeal of his own self, a more experienced and seasoned self, and he would be foolish to let his pride interfere with sound judgment now.

  “So instead of standing in Volsky’s shadow, you now ask me to stand in yours… Very well,” he said. “What you say makes some sense. I have too much to learn just now, but I will hold you to the promise that we will one day stand together as one, as equals aboard Kirov, and soon.”

  “You have my word on that,” said the Siberian. “I need you, brother. I need your intelligence, your will, your sound tactical skills in battle, for you have all those in great abundance. What man on earth has ever had such an opportunity as that which lies before us at this moment? Not Caesar, nor Alexander, nor Napoleon had the advantage we now possess—a second self! Together we are invincible, in this world or any other. Yes?”

  “Of course,” said the Captain, his eyes gleaming.

  “Excellent,” said the Siberian. “So here is what I propose. I will board the ship, and I have three airships close at hand. You will board Tunguska, and accompany me as we sail east. You will be our forward eyes and ears, scouting the way, reporting on sea and ice conditions, and more. Later, when we reach the Pacific, we will plan how to deal with the Japanese together, only this time they will be the ones that get the rude awakening of a surprise attack. You will see! Together, we will rewrite the entire history of the Pacific War, and restore Russia’s lost territories, and her position of power and authority there.”

  “Yet the Japanese will be very tough,” said the Captain. “You said this yourself. They will fight to the last man.”

  “True, but they cannot measure us. We will defeat them.”

  “Fedorov could tell you all about them,” said the Captain, the barest hint of exasperation in his voice.

  “Yes, we can use him for a while, but he could be a problem later. As to Volsky, I will leave him here, and he can keep Admiral Golovko company at tea.”

  The Captain smiled. “Good riddance,” he said. “And don’t take any guff from Fedorov either. He was arguing with me on the damn bridge, and right in front of the Admiral!”

  “Oh, I know that all too well. He is a real nuisance, but I’ll keep him under my thumb.”

  “The temerity of that man,” said the Captain. “Why, he convinced the Admiral to send out a coded message to the Royal Navy. A man named Tovey replied, claiming to be Admiral of the British fleet, wishing to speak with Volsky or Fedorov.”

  “Tell me more.” The Siberian seemed very keen to hear about this. “A coded message? What was it?”

  “You will have to ask Nikolin… I assumed it was something Fedorov got from one of his books. He’s very clever,
as we both know. I’ll admit that he figured all this out long before anyone else. At first I thought he was crazy, suffering from a good knock on the head, but then I began to suspect something more was going on. He seemed to be thick as thieves with the British, claiming he had personally met the Admiral who signaled us. I found out this man Tovey was a historical figure, so I thought this was nothing more than Fedorov’s obsession with the history, a delusion. But there was a flaw in this little story. Tovey claimed to be on a ship that doesn’t exist, the HMS Invincible.”

  “Yes,” said the Siberian. “It does exist, and I know why he wanted to speak to Volsky or Fedorov, but I’ll explain that later.”

  The Captain shook his head. “Well that request seemed very odd to me, and I was beginning to suspect our Navigator was a double agent, so I took the matter to Volsky myself. Of course, that was useless. Leave the man alone, he tells me. All he has done here is use his eyes and training to become the great pain in the ass he was on the bridge. I should have relieved him, or had him thrown in the brig the moment he opened his little mouth.”

  The Siberian was silent, deeply pondering. “Fedorov claimed to have personally met Admiral Tovey? How very odd. Are you certain you cannot remember what this message was?” he asked the Captain.

  “Let me think. Ah, yes, I remember now. We were on the bridge, analyzing video feed on a pair of old British ships. Fedorov was trying to prove they were from World War II. He was correct, as I see now, but who could believe that? Then he begged the Admiral to send out a message… Let me think… Geronimo. Yes, that was it. Home Flag respond… then something about a fleet signals protocol one. He said it was a command level channel for Royal Navy operations, something he got from his books, or so I assumed. But lo and behold, the British came back on the radio, and it was this Admiral Tovey!”

  The Siberian only heard one word in everything the Captain was saying, Geronimo, and it sounded alarm bells that prickled up his spine, a red heat at the back of his neck.