“Tell me. What are these ships I have seen? Are they the same as that of Captain Harada?”
“For the most part, Kita gestured to the nearest porthole, and the admiral followed. “That ship is the Atago , a vessel in the same class as Takami , those others are Kongo and Kirishima , capable destroyers, and with systems and weapons much like those of Atago . There is Omi , our replenishment ship, guarded by the helicopter destroyer Kurama , and that is yet another destroyer, Takao , sitting off the bow of the carrier Kaga , my flagship. The other carrier is the Akagi . All these names are familiar to you, for these ships were all named after their historical counterparts, now under your command.”
“Yet I see only two planes on the decks of each carrier. I assume you have others?” Yamamoto, always the pragmatist, came right to the point. A carrier had no more power than the planes it brought to sea. These ships seemed the same size as his own fleet carriers. His Kaga displaced over 38,000 tons, with a length of 247 meters. Admiral Kita’s ship was actually two feet longer, but not as heavy, displacing only 27,000 tons.
“At the moment, Kaga has seven fighters and an equal number of helicopters. Akagi has five more fighters, and six helicopters.”
“Twenty-five aircraft, and only twelve fighters? Then you have no strike aircraft?”
Admiral Kita smiled, giving Harada a sidelong glance. “These fighters are a good deal more capable than planes of this era,” he said calmly.
“May I sir?” asked Fukada, and the Admiral nodded.
“Admiral Yamamoto, sir,” Fukada bowed slightly, “The planes we carry are dual purpose fighter bombers, capable of serving in both roles. As a fighter, we can provide CAP coverage out to 250 miles, and see any approaching enemy plane within that envelope—unfailingly. Each plane is equipped with highly advanced sensors and radar, and so there is no question of our ever failing to detect an inbound aircraft. Each of our planes can then carry up to eight missiles similar to those we demonstrated to you here when we first met. That means that each of these twelve fighters can destroy eight enemy aircraft, again without fail, or a total of 96 enemy planes. That is, in effect, the entire compliment of an American Essex Class carrier. Our planes can kill from an extremely long range, and furthermore, they will be entirely invisible to the American radar.”
“Invisible? How is this possible?”
“The structure and shape of these aircraft is quite unusual, and you will see when we tour the modern carrier Kaga . It is a combination of that shape, and the special materials used in the construction of the plane, but I can assure you, they cannot be seen on radar of this era. We call this technology, ‘stealth.’”
“Indeed,” said Yamamoto, raising an eyebrow, and obviously surprised. “How do they perform in the strike role?”
“In much the same way, only we can extend our strike range with certain loadouts out to 470 nautical miles. At slightly shorter ranges, we can put up to six 500 pound bombs on a single plane, or two 1000 pound bombs, and each and every one will strike its target.”
“They do not miss? Ever?”
“That may be possible in modern defended airspace, but not likely here. So our twelve planes could deliver two dozen bombs in the 1000-pound category, or seventy-two 500 pound bombs. I do not have to tell you the kind of damage that will do to enemy carriers and cruisers.”
“Great Buddha,” said Yamamoto. “We might send many squadrons all in the hope of obtaining two or three good hits.”
“Our planes will deliver much more, sir, and after that, they can become fighters, for they also carry missiles in the strike role, though only two to four instead of eight. That said, our Kaga and Akagi could probably find and sing any American task force we face in battle, and the enemy will most likely not even know they are under attack until our bombs actually begin striking their ships. We should take no losses whatsoever.”
“Surely you make close dive bombing attacks to be this accurate. What about enemy flak?”
“No sir, these are not dive bombers, nor are they torpedo planes. These are high altitude strike fighters. In some loadouts, we can deliver our ordnance from altitudes of 50,000 feet.”
“What? That is well above our highest flying fighters.”
“It is, sir. Other loadouts require us to release weapons at about 36,000 feet, but that is still 4000 feet above the service ceiling of the American F4F-Wildcat, which is why the enemy will most likely never see us coming.”
“But how could you possibly hit anything if you release your bombs at such altitudes.”
“These weapons have sophisticated guidance capabilities. Our planes can vector them right into the targets. With some ordnance, we release as far away as sixty nautical miles, but can still hit the targets we aim for, almost without fail.”
“Astounding.” Yamamoto was deeply impressed. “If this is all true, then we can do exactly what you boasted earlier, and destroy an entire American carrier task force, and with only twelve planes. I cannot imagine what war must be like in your time—truly frightening. How does any sea Captain hope to ever prevail when he sets sail against such aircraft?”
“Because we sail in task forces like this one,” said Admiral Kita. “Each of our destroyers carries missiles. Atago , for example, like Takami , carries 96 missiles, and 84 of those could shoot down an incoming enemy plane. You can multiply that, roughly, by the number of destroyers you see out there, though some carry fewer missiles. And we have reloads aboard our replenishment ship Omi , which we also use as a fleet oiler.”
“But a good offense is our best defense,” said Captain Harada. “Our carriers, even with the few planes we now have, can get to the enemy before they ever know we are close, and destroy their carriers. Our destroyers may not ever need to use their missile compliment.”
“Suppose you encounter an enemy surface action group—with many cruisers or perhaps even a battleship.”
“Our planes would see them long before they could approach us, but granting your premise as a hypothetical, each of our destroyers carries up to eight larger missiles that target ships, and again, what we target, we hit, and without fail.”
“Yet you fought the Siberian ship, and where is your destroyer now, Captain Harada?”
“That was most unfortunate. However, my ship was not sunk by the enemy you call Mizuchi . It was hit by another Siberian vessel operating in these waters—a submarine.”
“I was not aware of this.”
“Neither were we, sir, and that was a surprise that was, in part, the reason I lost Takami .”
“So you are vulnerable to enemy submarines.” Yamamoto was covering all bases. “The Americans have many.”
“That is where our helicopters come in,” said Admiral Kita. “They can find and kill submarines of this era easily enough. In our time, a submarine is also quite stealthy. They carry missiles and torpedoes—a much more dangerous adversary.”
“Rocket weapons? On a submarine? I assume they must be on the surface to use those.”
“No sir, they can be fired while submerged, which is a reason why this enemy sub is so dangerous. We must maintain an almost constant anti-submarine patrol with our helicopters to keep watch for it, and also use highly advanced sonar, but it is very stealthy. We have only so much aviation fuel aboard, so it is obvious that we can function much better as a part of the navy you now command. In exchange for our service, we may need fuel.”
“Of course,” said Yamamoto, still dizzy with the capabilities these men were describing. Two ships, twelve planes, and he could break the American fleet and effectively win this war. Would the United States sue for peace if that happened, or would they persist, building more carriers like they have already done?
“How many times could you strike and kill an enemy carrier task force? I assume your magazines are not limitless.”
“Yes, we have limited stores of these weapons, but certainly enough to win this war,” Kita explained.
“But the Americans are a most pe
rsistent enemy. What if they will not accept a peace offer. I saw a terrible end in the library aboard your ship, Captain Harada. What of that terror weapon the Americans unleash upon Japan?”
“That will never happen,” said Fukada. “Even if the Americans do build their atomic weapons, they must get close enough to Japan to deliver it. We can prevent that from ever being the case.”
“And if they should then unleash it on our fleet? Suppose they targeted our base at Truk?”
“Again, we could prevent it.”
“Could you? I read that this weapon was delivered by a single bomber. Can you stand by every potential place they could send such a plane? Suppose they send them by the hundreds, as I also read in that library. How would your planes or missiles know which plane might be carrying their terror weapon?”
“You ask very good questions,” said Fukada, “but may I also point out that if we destroy the American fleet, they will not be able to defeat your navy. The Imperial Japanese Navy will reign supreme in these waters, and your ships and carriers, with our help, can then destroy all the bases they attempt to build for their bombers. We could even revisit Pearl Harbor.”
“We may be getting into too much here,” said Kita. “Suffice it to say, that we believe we can prevail in this war, but only fighting side by side with your own fleet, Admiral Yamamoto. This we are now prepared to do.”
“And the Siberian ship? Their submarine? They will undoubtedly fight on the other side.”
“That is the war we are prepared to fight here. We have already encountered that enemy, and driven him off, but not without cost. We are prepared to do so again.”
Chapter 35
That was the same issue that was now plaguing Volsky and Fedorov. Admiral Kita’s task force was out there somewhere, and how could they proceed with their mission, while leaving it to ravage the American fleet?
“The whole problem is a false one,” said Karpov. “This is all academic. Once we get to 1908, we can reset the entire history of this era. It will be as though none of this has ever happened.”
“That’s what is bothering me,” said Fedorov. “We devised this plan to go to 1908 precisely because all of this did happen. If it doesn’t occur, then we have no reason to go there—ever.”
“More of your fear of paradox,” said Karpov.
“A most justifiable fear,” said Fedorov back quickly. “Look what it did to you. There are two of you now! And what about your brother in all of this?”
“He will be what he will be. The way I look at it, the fact that there are two of us gives us twice the chance of surviving whatever we do in 1908. Hopefully, we will both survive.”
Volsky shook his head, a dazed look on his face. “I found one of you more than…. Sufficient,” he said. “No offense.”
“None taken, Admiral. But what I and trying to convey is this—we all know our personal fates are entwined in all of this business. If I am willing to put my fate on the line here, then you two must do the same—and you as well, Captain Gromyko. Now then, I’ve thought this through. You all have memories in your heads that are clearly not a part of this time line of events. You remember when you used the test reactors in the Primorskiy Engineering Center to move back to the 1940s at Vladivostok?”
“How could I forget that,” said Fedorov. “It led to this entire mess. I stumbled upon the crown jewel of your little empire, the railway inn at Ilanskiy, and that changed everything. I warned Sergei Kirov; he killed Josef Stalin, and Volkov came looking for me all in that same mission. There we have the entire train wreck, and all because of me.”
“You forget the Admiral who authorized you to do this,” said Volsky.
“Yes, and you also forget all I did in 1908 when I found myself there,” Karpov confessed. “But none of that is the point. That mission of yours first delivered you to September of 1942, right there at Vladivostok. From there you took the Trans-Siberian Rail to move west and look for Orlov at Kizlyar. You fought a battle there against the Germans, if I recall. Yes, in late September. Orlov was at Kizlyar on the 30th, because that’s what he put on that letter you found. Then you ran off on your mission to retrieve him. Well now, we didn’t do that this time around, did we? Not at all. In fact, in September of 1942 you and I were scheming on a plan very much like this one, to go back and deal with Sergei Kirov. I called that off, but you persisted, and then eventually failed to develop… what was it? …. Ah, yes, timely cruelty. You could not bring yourself to kill young Mironov.”
“Alright,” said Fedorov. “So what is your point?”
“The two months of September were not on the same time meridian.” He folded his arms, smiling. “You see? Your first mission to try and retrieve Orlov was in September of 42, but this time around your scheme was to get rid of Sergei Kirov—also in September of 1942. It was two different time lines! There’s no other way to explain it.”
“I suppose that must be true,” said Fedorov.
“Yes, but you thought everything would go to hell after September 30, 1942. Remember? You said this world would have no basis to exist after that, the day Orlov wrote that letter that you discovered. That set everything in motion, your mission to fetch him, your visit to Ilanskiy, your chat with Kirov, Volkov, the Orenburg Federation, and then all that I did. That is what built the world and war we’ve been fighting. Well, here we are, smack dab in the middle of 1943, and all still friends.” Karpov gave him a devious smile, then came to his point. “Nothing fell apart, Fedorov. The world did not end, nor did it start disintegrating, and it hasn’t spun off into an interminable loop like you suggested. It’s just blundering its way forward through all these Altered States. It’s a new time line, a new meridian—and guess what. Time has to settle her bets one day or another. We put an end to the old time line when we built this one. So this is all she’s got to work with now. See?”
“You mean to say—”
“Yes, I do. This is it, Fedorov. This is the new Prime Meridian! All that other stuff is dead and gone. Everything in the first loop we made here is nothing more than a fond memory in our heads. I challenge you to find anyone among the rank and file who remembers one lick of it, and there were some very memorable moments.”
“Like when you fired off that nuke in the North Atlantic?” Volsky gave him a recriminating look.
“Exactly!” said Karpov, unphased. “That caused Japan to enter the war early, remember, but not here. We have the old tried and true on this meridian, Pearl Harbor. So the old meridian is gone. This time line is all that matters now.”
“But it can’t be the new prime,” said Fedorov. “It’s a complete dead end. It continues to diverge from the old history, which makes the creation of this ship more and more impossible with each passing day. And yet, this ship must be built for this time line to even exist. It’s maddening!”
“Yes, it is,” said Karpov, “but the mistake you make was believing the world we came from was the prime meridian in the first place….”
He let that hang out there, waiting a moment. “That may have just been our selfish arrogance, but it was probably just ignorance instead. We had no idea that time travel was even possible until the Orel blew up while we were on fleet exercises. We just assumed there was only one meridian of time, but now we know that is not the case. There are many, but this is the way things are now. The altered states we created have become the new prime. Whether that gives rise to the building of this ship or not is irrelevant. Yes, we were first cause for the foundation and building of this new meridian, but where is the big bang, eh? They say that’s what built the whole universe, and it’s over—done and finished. This is the result, and the result is all there is.” He gestured with his hand to the ship and world around them.
“But how could a ship from 2021 be a part of this world?” Fedorov persisted. “We’re here because those other meridians did exist once. At one time, they were all that mattered.”
“Yes,” said Karpov, “but their time has come and gone. So l
et’s just take my proposition as a starting point. This is the new Prime Meridian, and here we all are trying to reach some unified intention of going back to 1908 and reshuffling the cards. Why? Because we still cling to some notion that this history is wrong. We’re still trying to put Humpty Dumpty back together again, and make this world look like the one we came from. We’re trying to raise the dead….”
“I need a good stiff drink,” said Gromyko.
“Agreed,” said Volsky, actually getting up and going over to a cabinet on the far wall where he shifted about some books and suddenly produced a hidden bottle of vodka!
“Well,” he said with a smile. “This new Prime Meridian was kind enough to keep my vodka safe and sound, just where I always stashed it. Gromyko, find some glasses.”
* * *
“So what do we do here,” said Karpov when they had all finished a few rounds of vodka. “Do we still combine our willpower as we planned. What was the principle Fedorov?”
“Absolute Certainty.”
“Yes. Who knows what that means, but you say if we put our heads together, we’ll get right where we decide to go—back to 1908. Do we persist with this? Do we still try to go and change this new Prime back into something that looks like the old one? Then what? Do we shift back and find everything in this world is suddenly back to normal?” He made opening and closing quotes in the air with his fingers to emphasize the word “normal.”
“Just what is it you two want to accomplish?”
“Well,” said Karpov, “for starters, we thought we’d do what Fedorov failed to do last time and get rid of this Mironov. That puts the Man of Steel back at the helm, and our assumption is that he will deal with Volkov.”
“Can you be sure?” asked Volsky. “Volkov is a very cunning man, and quite determined.”
“Yes, he was quite a pain in the backside when we first met him,” said Karpov. “That’s one thing that hasn’t changed either.”
Ironfall (Kirov Series Book 30) Page 30