Breakout (Kirov Series Book 38)

by Schettler, John

  That was when Karpov hit upon his own little epiphany. They had been trying to get to a point on the Prime Meridian before things started to fray and diverge, before the damage Fedorov had introduced, but that now seemed impossible. It handed Time a massive Paradox, for they could not be there to do that if none of their previous interventions and misadventures had ever occurred. Therefore, the problem could not be solved as they intended, because the original point of departure was not in the past. That damage was secondary to the real point of departure, in the future—in 2021.

  “Of course!” he had exclaimed to Fedorov. “The point of departure that started this whole saga isn’t in 1908. It wasn’t the damn Tunguska Event either, nor did it have anything at all to do with that railway inn out there.”

  “It was us,” said Fedorov, suddenly grasping what Karpov was getting at. “We did it. It was that moment in the Norwegian Sea when we first shifted back.”

  “I was blind,” said Karpov. “I thought I could rewrite the history—my way—and right all the wrongs, address all the grievances with the power of Kirov . Hell, I was at it in 1908, beating up on the poor Japanese fleet under Admiral Togo. But I was wrong, and so were we all. We have to go forward in time to fix this. Nothing we do in the past matters. It just makes things worse.”

  It was strange how these revelations changed him. All his labor to build and defend his Free Siberian State seemed a small thing now. He had been Captain of Kirov , standing in the shadow of Admiral Volsky, but then he boldly took that title upon himself, as Admiral of the airship fleet that included Tunguska . Yes, he was an Admiral now too, and more, the head of the Free Siberian State. But what did that matter in the end, if his actions here had no effect on the old future he had first come from?

  Now the mantle of state seemed to mean nothing to him. His influence in the war he had been so eager to fight in the 1940’s was fruitless, nothing more than mere self-aggrandizement. It was all just a big game he had been playing, moving his airship fleets about, marching his armies off to the defense of the old Soviet Union, plying the waters of the Pacific to cow the ambitions of Imperial Japan. His brother self was there even now, standing the watch he vacated on the bridge of Kirov when he went off to undertake this mission of vengeance—a mission that had been turned back upon him by Time, showing him just how ridiculous his own ambitions here were.

  It was quite deflating for a man like Karpov to come to such a realization. It made a mockery of all his many labors, all his plans and devices. He took a deep breath, then shrugged. When Fedorov came in to make a position report, it was evident to him that something was bothering Karpov.

  “ Something on your mind?” asked Fedorov. He could see that Karpov was still deep in thought, a discouraged look on his face.

  “My brother,” said Karpov, standing up slowly. He reached for his overcoat, putting it on and quietly buttoning it up against the cold they would face on the bridge, in spite of the heaters he had installed there.

  “What about him?”

  “He has no idea what we’re planning. For that matter, what about Gromyko and Admiral Volsky?”

  “Yes, I’ve been considering that myself. Gromyko came from our time line, but the Admiral was from another branch of the tree.”

  “One thought, Fedorov. He has recollections of all the things our Volsky said and did. It is as if two lifetimes were crammed into the same head.”

  “That I understand completely,” said Fedorov. “Remember, one minute I was on the original ship, in that mind numbing fog. We were in a real doldrums, and I was trying to find a way out. The next thing I know, I’m on a new ship—the same, yet completely new—your brother’s ship. Yet I retained all the memories of things I experienced on our Kirov . It is all very strange.”

  Karpov was pulling on his gloves, adjusting the fit. “If we do this—go forward as we plan, then what will happen to my brother? What will happen to the entire ship and crew here?”

  “I suppose that depends on what we do, and whether we can truly prevent first cause at the point of departure. I think the entire meridian that your brother self came from was just a tree branch that grew from our original time line. If we succeed in what we plan, we’ll be sawing that branch off at the base, and with it, all of this completely vanishes, this entire meridian, and I think the one that spawned your doppelganger as well. If we do get back home, and prevent the ship from shifting as it did, then none of this will have ever happened.”

  “I see…” Karpov nodded heavily. “Then all these other strange interventions, that British brigade in the desert, the appearance of Takami when Krakatoa blew its top… Will all of that be resolved as well?”

  “I’m going to assume that is so,” said Fedorov. “This altered state of affairs will have never happened, so there would be no place for Kinlan’s brigade, or Takami , to appear. Strange to think of that, but logically, how could those events transpire unless we first create this altered reality here? We’ll be wiping out all the damage they did, and destroying Volkov and all his interventions as well. I suppose that also goes for Tyrenkov’s imperium. He would have never gone back to meddle without taking his lead from our actions here. So you see? We clean the entire slate if we pull this off, all of it—Gromyko, Kazan , the reappearance of Volsky. It’s all solved if we prevent first cause—even Orlov.”

  “Today we settle all the family business,” said Karpov, smiling as he quoted from the Godfather. There was something in that movie for almost every occasion.

  Part XII

  Flies in the Ointment

  “Little fly,

  Thy summer’s play

  My thoughtless hand

  Has brushed away.

  Am not I

  A fly like thee?

  Or art not thou

  A man like me?

  For I dance

  And drink and sing,

  Till some blind hand

  Shall brush my wing….”

  —William Blake

  Chapter 34

  “Then this was all just a world of our own making,” said Karpov with a nod. “You know, for the longest time, I thought it was our old time line. I believed that we were marooned in the past of that world, and that all our actions were reshaping that history. That was what was so engaging for me, the thought that I could right the wrongs of history, for our country, and I suppose for my own self as well. Yet now we contemplate the complete eradication of this entire meridian, like two demigods that have grown tired of playing in the world they created.”

  “Oh, I haven’t grown tired of it,” said Fedorov. “Have you? It’s been the most thrilling and significant experience I could ever imagine. Yes, we’ve had real power here, foresight, knowledge of what might come, and the struggle itself has been, well… exciting, and also quite worrisome.”

  “It certainly has,” said Karpov. “Remember how you anguished when Orlov went missing? You came up with one scheme after another to see if you could get that bull back in the corral. Along the way, you learned how to handle the ship pretty well, Fedorov. I’m proud of you. Yes, you were a bit annoying at times, but I’m glad the two of us mended fences and became allies in this cause. We still have a little excitement dead ahead when I engage these enemy airships, and then we’ll have to see what we can do back home, if we ever do get there.”

  “We’ll get there,” said Fedorov. “I can feel it.”

  “I suppose our lease on life there will be a very short one.” Karpov shared his last reservation. “We’ll be the doppelgangers there, correct? The original versions of ourselves will already be alive when we get there. You say that it would normally be impossible, for us to co-locate in a time when we already exist, but the only reason we might survive is because we will be here aboard Tunguska , just as you survived when we shifted to 1908, at a time when your own self was clearly there on those missions to Ilanskiy. Is that the way you see it?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Then we could only
exist here, aboard this airship. We would have no viability in the world we’re returning to. Neither one of us can ever set one foot off this ship, and I suppose that goes for Troyak and the Marines.”

  “I guess not,” said Fedorov. “Those seats are already taken. We’ll have new brother selves there, all of us.”

  “You know, we never ran that by Troyak and the others. I think that’s something we’ll have to do before we attempt the shift home.”

  “A good point… Yes, we can’t condemn them to the same fate you and I are willing to take upon ourselves—not without giving them a chance to make that same choice.”

  “What alternative would they have?”

  “They could stay here, in this world.”

  “Wouldn’t that be a bit like booking a tour on the Titanic ?”

  Fedorov nodded. “Another good point,” he said. “Frankly, we don’t really know what would happen to this world. My logic tells me it would have no basis for existing if we prevent first cause, and eliminate all our interference here. But Time could have other ideas.”

  “Fedorov… If your theory is correct, then why would we even have to bother trying to fix what we’ve done? If this is just an altered reality, another branch on your tree, then why not let it grow?”

  Fedorov thought about that. It was the essence of the mood that seemed to have fallen upon Karpov. All his contrivances in this world were being shown up as fallacy, and as for the coming airship duel, it seemed to matter very little to him now. Beyond that, he could see no happy resolution for them if they did find a good storm and pulled off their plan.

  “We’ll be exiles in our own world,” said Karpov glumly. “We go and save the whole damn world, settle all the family business, but then we’ll be as useful as lost luggage. I suppose we could survive for a time, sending crew members off ship to procure necessary supplies and fuel, but someone would surely take notice of us in time. They’d get curious, and we’d probably be visited by a fighter from one side or the other soon.”

  “Yes, tensions were running pretty high in the world we left. That’s why we were out with all those extra missiles for live fire drills. We’ve also got a bit of foreknowledge as to how the war begins there. Remember that magazine we found as we were entering the Timor Sea?”

  “Yes, the war begins in the Pacific, but we’ll be in the wrong hemisphere. How can we prevent the incidents there that served as flash points?”

  “We’re getting well ahead of ourselves with all this,” said Fedorov. “There’s a lot we’ll have to do before we start worrying about fighter intercepts in 2021. Shouldn’t you be focusing your mind on this battle we’re about to fight?”

  Karpov smiled. “You mean I should be preparing myself—girding up my armor? No, Fedorov, combat is in my blood. It isn’t something I have to steel myself for. My instincts and skills in that area won’t fail me. But suppose you are correct. We are getting ahead of ourselves. First things first. We’ll deal with these enemy airships, and revisit this conversation later. No need to bother my brother self in the Pacific now. He’s most likely prowling about the Marianas, with battles of his own to fight.”

  Karpov seemed to set his misgivings aside, but Fedorov knew him too well now. He seemed emptied, a bit lost and forlorn. His great purpose here had been shown up as nothing more than a game. How could he get him to see the days and hours that remained to them as vital, meaningful, and worth all the sweat and toil that would likely be demanded of them. He did not want to go into battle with a half-hearted Karpov at the helm, and that went double for what they were planning on their return to the future. They had to be completely committed, form one unbroken will to pull off their plan. Karpov had to see that their choices and actions truly mattered.

  “Captain,” he said, and Karpov angled his head, glancing at him.

  “Yes, I suppose that’s what I really am, just a Captain. These extra stripes on my cuffs were just things I stole from this world, my little farce here.”

  “Don’t say that,” Fedorov cajoled him. “I didn’t call you that to berate or diminish you. You just said you were proud of me for what I accomplished here, and I’ll say the same of you. You didn’t steal that rank—you’ve earned it. You took that broken third part of our homeland and put it back together again as the Free Siberian State. If not for your support of the Soviets, I think the Germans would have finished the job at Moscow, and then gone all the way to Leningrad. Don’t sell yourself short.”

  “Yes, I suppose I showed this world what I could do, but what does it matter?” said Karpov. “It means nothing.”

  Now if there was any eagerness in him at all, it was to be finished with this adventure, to go home and settle it, once and for all. Even this diversion he had signed on to here seemed nothing more than a great distraction.

  “What’s the point of this airship business?” he said.

  “What’s the point?” Fedorov gave him a puzzled look. “They might have a nuke out there on that airship. Why else would they risk such a journey to the east coast?”

  “Why should we care? You said it yourself, Fedorov: Nothing is true; everything is permitted. What does it matter if we let them blow New York to hell?”

  Fedorov thought for a moment, understanding that Karpov must have been thinking all this through here in his stateroom while the ship closed to intercept the contacts. He knew what he must be feeling.

  “You think nothing matters now? Well, that’s life in a nutshell, isn’t it?” said Fedorov. “We get born into the world, through no choice of our own. We just show up here, along with everyone else. Once the innocence of childhood wears off, we start reaching, planning, building. Life has its seasons, as you certainly know. In time we come to think more of what we all really know, deep down, that we’re mortal. I mean, what do all our worries, all our ambitions and desires, come to in the end? Nothing—absolutely nothing. We’re all going to die, Karpov—not just us here on this ship, but everyone else out there striving and contesting with one another in this war. This entire world will die, even the stars and galaxies will come to an end. Do they stop spinning because of that? Certainly not. So we don’t stop being human beings either. In fact, you could take the opposite tack, and say that all we do means everything . We do what we do, embrace it all, the love, the hate, the triumph, the disappointment—all of it. And you know what? It isn’t often that a man gets a chance like the one before us now—a chance to correct his own mistakes in life, and in a way that truly does matter.”

  “You’re big on that possibility,” said Karpov. “You’ve always thought you could fix things, and I always thought we should just play the game as it was. I never really did plan to go home, until we hit upon this realization.”

  They finally believed that they had found the real fulcrum that would move Time, not with any of their machinations here, and not in the past, before the revolution would ever build the Soviet state. It was the future that mattered now, the simple lives they had been living out in the year 2021. They became Prime Movers here, but now he realized that the unknowing versions of their selves, there in 2021, were the real Prime Movers. All they would become is the spirit of the power of change those men had in their bones, whispering voices of knowing and better judgment.

  What they really had to do now was not an act that would install them as masters of the world they had created. No, it was now an effort to restore that unpretentious, naive innocence they once had there in 2021. They were just out on a drill, live fire exercises, and then everything went to hell. He would never change the world now as General Secretary of the Free Siberian State, and Admiral of the Fleet, but by God, he might just change it as Captain Karpov, there, before any of this had ever happened, in the year 2021.

  “One other thought,” said Fedorov, “about the Prime Meridian. I don’t think Time was really meant to be so frayed and broken. I’ve accepted that it has branched off onto all these different meridians, because we gave Time no other way of solving th
e Paradoxes we created. But I don’t think that’s the way it was really meant to be. I think there was a single Prime Meridian, and I have to think and believe that I was living on it. That’s where we’re going with this, back home, back to the Prime Meridian. If we succeed, and we do undercut all these divergent time lines, that’s where we’ll be left, on the original Prime.”

  “But there will be no place for us there,” said Karpov.

  “That may be so, but our other selves will still be there. We had our shot, they’ll have their own lives to live, and we can give that to them—to our very own selves. If our plan succeeds, then we give them that life, don’t we? What’s that bible quote? No greater love hath a man than he lay his life down for another. That’s what we’ll be doing.”

  “But what will we do there? We’ll be stuck on this damn airship.”

  “Let’s cross that bridge later. Who knows what will really happen? This battle in front of us is the first hurtle. I know you see it as a waste of time. You want to ride that storm and see if we can get to the real business we have planned. But think of it this way…. Ever have a good meal at a fine restaurant?”

  “Of course.”

  “OK, so you finish up, pay the tab, and head for the door, with that feeling of fullness and satisfaction in your gut. Yet there, right by the hostess station, is that little bowl of mints. It’s a little windfall, free, and a last treat as you go out the door. So think of it that way, Karpov. This seemed like a chance encounter, but it may be something more. Don’t forget, Volkov is still out there now, and I’m willing to bet that he was the one behind the development of these warheads the Germans have been using. We never had any information, not even with Tyrenkov’s considerable abilities put to the task, that the Germans were ever really close to getting a working atomic bomb. So I think this is all Volkov’s doing, and something in me wants to stick it to that bastard before we look for our Channel Storm. That may sound petty, but there it is.”