Karpov did not understand. The news he had already heard was jarring enough-1938? What was this man saying now? “War? Here? The Japanese and Russians?”
“The Japanese and whoever they damn well take a dislike to. No, they’ve finished with us-at least for the time being. Now it’s the Chinese they’re after. Troop ships coming in and out of Urajio every week now and shipping out on the rail line through Harbin into Manchuko. You want out and can’t find a steamer here, then you might try that. You can get all the way down to Ryojun from here, but it will be risky.”
“Ryojun?”
“Port Arthur. Get used to calling it that way too, Captain. Jappos hear you speak of Vladivostok or Port Arthur and they get damn foul tempered about it since they took the place. Best be watching your manners here, if you know what I mean. That uniform of yours is going to be trouble, I can tell you that much. If you want some good advice, throw on an overcoat and be less conspicuous here. Then head inland if you’re trying to get anywhere where one good Russian can speak to another. Siberia is the same as it always was, but there’s Jappo military all the way out to the Amur river now, and don’t you forget that. They find you wandering about in a uniform like that and you could be shot out there. That’s mean wild country out on the river zone. Then again-if you are a sea faring man, you might get lucky like I did and get work on a steamer here. You’ll need to learn some Japanese now, and how to bow and scrape and all, but it isn’t a bad living. I’m seven years at it now and they gave me a new ship just last year-Pilot of the Nagata Maru, eh?” He thumped his chest, smiling through his bristly black beard.
“What do you mean-The Japanese have invaded here? Their army is on the Amur River?”
“What, have you had your head in the sand the last thirty years-or maybe in that jug of rum? Japanese kicked us out of Vladivostok long ago and we never got it back. You know that. In fact, we may never get it back now with another war brewing. It’s too damn important to them now, right at the heart of their empire. Some say Ryujun is a better port-warmer waters there and not so much trouble with the ice in winter. But the Sea of Japan is well named now, isn’t it? It’s nothing more than a Japanese lake, and the route here is a whole lot safer than in through the Yellow Sea to Ryujun. Chinese haven’t much of a navy, but pirates and Wakos still raise hell between Shanghai and Ryujun along the Chinese coast. Jappos have to escort most shipping there in convoys with military ships to keep watch, but not on the run up here. No sir. From Urajio you can throw a stone six hundred miles in any direction and it will still land in Imperial territory.”
“Six hundred miles?”
“You must be European. You ship in from Kirov’s lot? I suppose they’re too busy with the fighting on the Volga to worry about what happens out here. Well, there’s a lot happening, and you’ll soon find out.”
Chapter 8
Karpov seemed startled at the mention of Kirov, but the man went on, and it was soon clear that he wasn’t talking about the ship, but the man. ‘Kirov’s lot’ seemed to refer to European Russians from the far west, or so he reasoned, though he could not understand why.
“Out here you can forget all those nice European ways, and don’t think anyone here will cut you any notice, whether you’ve come in from Leningrad or Moscow. Here the Japanese empire is all that matters. Yes sir, and they’ve started expanding again. If they don’t know that back west in Orenburg or Moscow they soon will I suppose. Like I say, there’s troop ships arriving here every week. Rumor is that my own ship will be commandeered soon for similar duty. Taking Vladivostok, Sakhalin and all of Primorskiy and Amur province wasn’t enough after the last war. No sir. Now they’ve got all of Korea, Taiwan, Manchuko, and they may just push all the way to Lake Baikal if they have a mind to. Siberians can’t do much about that, can they? Kolchak will try, but he’ll be no match for these little weasels. Brutal when they get to war, and that’s a fact.”
Karpov was astounded by what he was hearing now. The last war? The man seemed to be saying the Japanese invaded and occupied Russian territory long ago. He knew that had happened once. Japan sent troops to Vladivostok in the midst of the Russian Civil War along with troops from many other powers, British, French, Italians, Czech, even Americans. They occupied the place in 1918 to support the Whites but after Kolchak’s White Army collapsed in the war against the Bolsheviks in 1919, the Japanese remained in Vladivostok until 1922, fearing the rise of a communist state so close to their Imperial homeland.
“So 600 miles is nothing,” said Koslov. “It’s nearly a thousand miles to Zabaykalsk on the border. There’s Japanese troops there, or so I hear tell. More coming every week. And they’re in Mongolia now too. Rumor has it that they’ve pushed all the way to Ulaanbaatar. Damn industrious, these Japanese. They ran us out of the only port we had on the Pacific. That was inevitable after what happened before the war.”
“This war?”
“The last war-the Great War as they called it. Something tells me this next one will be even bigger. All the ships are bigger, and now they have planes-planes on ships, mind you, and submarines too. No. This will be the great war, but maybe we can stay out of if this time around. After all, we’re still at each other’s throats, eh?”
Karpov did not know what to make of all this, and was very confused. Was this man telling the truth or exaggerating. 1938? How could he possibly be here? Did something happen to the ship? Did it move again and pull him along with it? But how was that possible? Kirov had no control rod this time, and there was no great explosion, nuclear or otherwise, that could have moved the ship. Then the image from his nightmares returned, that horrible moment when he plunged into the water, opening his eyes in a panic to see the long, evil shape of a submarine lurking in the shallows beneath the ship. Could it have been real?
“Are you sure you are well?” Koslov was watching him closely now, but Karpov just looked at him, saying nothing. “Well or not, it’s time you were on your feet and off this ship. Considering you were put on by the Jappos, I’ll grant you free passage this time. Get ashore and hole up in a good hotel for a while. The whole harbor district is overrun with Asians, but inland the city is still much as it always was. But mind what I said-wear an overcoat and don’t flash those stripes on your cuff on the street or you’ll likely be picked up by the Jappos for questioning, and you won’t like that one bit. No sir, not one bit.”
Karpov rubbed a cramp from his neck. “I will take your advice, Koslov, if I can find an overcoat as you suggest.”
“Look in that locker, Captain. Help yourself… Tell me, are you regular navy?”
“I was.”
“No longer?”
“It seems not. At least I have no ship now.”
“Where were you headed?”
“Look, Koslov. I would rather not talk about it.”
The other man gave him a knowing look. “Very well,” he said. “A man has a right to bury his troubles, and it looks as though you have been digging for quite a while.” He reached into his pocket and produced a handful of coins. “Here, take these. The medic says you haven’t two rubles to rub together. A man needs to eat, and there’s enough here to get a modest room in the Moscow Hotel if you choose. But unless you want to bow and scrape to the Jappos rank and file every time you see them-and you better learn a proper bow, mate-then I would head straight to the train station and get on train number four. It will take you up to Khabarovsk. Japanese took that as well, so stay on the train. Once you get up over the Amur bend you don’t see them much at all. Get to Irkutsk, my friend. Then you hear good Russian. Old Man Kolchak is still there trying to re-organize the White Army. Otherwise the Japanese will take that too. Yes, get to Irkutsk. Once you get there, you can breathe again.”