“You were there with him on the ship? He opposed your authority?”
To make a long story short, Volsky decided to abridge his tale. “That is a fair assessment of what happened,” he said. “But he was stopped. The crew would not follow him any longer, and that was his undoing. Then he disappeared. We believed he had been killed in action, but this mention of his name has been somewhat jarring. Our ship moved again in time after that-I cannot explain it fully here, but if Karpov also moved with us, and was still alive…”
Fedorov spoke now, very concerned. “You say this Karpov came on the scene some years ago?”
“We first began to hear his name a year ago. I would think he would have been fermenting in the power structure for many years before that, but we could turn up no history on the man, and no records. Nothing is known of Volkov’s early life either. No one ever heard of the man until he began inserting himself into the revolutionary cadres in 1908. In time he co-opted Denikin’s entire operation in the Caucasus, and from there he has expanded to control all of Kazakhstan. We’ve held the line on the Volga, but now, with the Germans building up on our western front, our situation becomes very serious. So you see, I need friends as well. Soviet Russia needs friends. Otherwise we may not survive this war.”
Volsky extended his hand. “When I learned from radio intercepts that it was you, Sergei Kirov, who control our homeland in Stalin’s place, I felt hope for the first time in a good long while. I told young Fedorov here that if there was one man in Russia I could fight for, it would be you. I will tell you now that we made contact with the British on our way here. In fact, I met face to face with their Admiral of the Home Fleet. He is a reasonable man, and one that could become a strong ally if you were so inclined.”
“The British are hanging on by their fingernails,” said Kirov. “Yes, if they go, then we are surely next. Then the whole word comes under the shadow of Nazi Germany.”
Volsky was clear and direct, and Kirov could see it in his eyes. “That cannot be permitted to happen. Mister General Secretary, this has been an hour of many revelations. We sit here discussing the impossible fates we have both suffered, and now this news of Karpov chills my blood if this is, indeed, the man we lost. He is a man of great ambition, and could prove a grave danger. Now, however, I think that Russia’s only chance at survival is in a speedy alliance with Great Britain and the United States.”
“America? They are a neutral state.”
“At the moment-but Russia is a neutral state as well. You and I both know that no nation with any power in this world will be able to remain a neutral bystander. We know how this war ended once, Kirov. It is only just beginning now, but it will grow and grow and become a whirlwind of chaos that will consume the entire world before it ends.”
“Yet your presence here tells me Russia survives. I could spend days with you with the questions in my mind now.”
“As I could with you, but we both have duties to perform. Yes, Russia survived-in the history we knew. In that war we were allies with Great Britain, but without their support, and the supplies and equipment that flowed to us through this very port, we may not have survived the onslaught Germany unleashed upon us. At this moment, all is in play. These years are the most dangerous of the entire war. Unless you get sound footing, the Germans could stampede all the way to Moscow, and now, with this Orenburg Federation and Volkov at your back, you have no refuge in the east as Stalin had when hard pressed.”
“You tell me things that I have realized for some time now. Yes, I know we cannot stand alone, and for that reason I have already put out feelers to the British, and will now make a formal proposal of alliance. Do you think it will be well received?”
“It will. I am almost certain. Britain stands alone in the west, even as you stand alone here. You must join hands and become brothers in arms. There is no other way for either of you to survive. If Germany can turn its might on either nation in isolation, they would certainly win. It is only the strength of the Royal Navy that now shields Great Britain from destruction.”
“The Germans are planning to invade England even now!”
“That plan will fail,” said Fedorov. “At least it never came about in the history we know. Yet this is a new history book we are living in now, at least for me. The Kriegsmarine is much stronger than we knew it to be. Things have changed, and the Germans may now be able to pose a serious invasion threat to England.”
“Not on my watch,” said Volsky flatly.
Kirov smiled. “You sound very confident, Admiral. I like that in a man. A good boast is sometimes a necessary food for the soul, as long as a man has courage to go along with it.”
“I do not boast, Mister General Secretary. The ship I now command has the power to assure England’s safety from invasion. I could accomplish this single handedly, but the Royal Navy has great strength as it stands. If I commit my Kirov to their cause, then I can assure you that the Germans will not set foot on English soil.”
“Well Admiral, then I urge you to do this. As for this Kirov,” he placed his hands on his broad chest now, “he is committed as well. Now then, let us drink on this new day together. I will call my Lieutenants back and we will have a good meal and some good Vodka as well. Then we will get on with the business of trying to save the world, eh? I have only one hope, Admiral Volsky. You have told me your ship has moved in time, though I do not grasp how that happens. That aside… will you move in time again? Can you do this? Or might it happen again by accident?”
“We do not yet know,” said Volsky truthfully. “All I can promise you is our friendship and support as long as we can stay put.”
Kirov clasped his arm in a hearty handshake. “Then I can promise you the same.”
The meal was delicious and very fulfilling, a taste of real home cooking, as Volsky described it. Troyak and Zykov were also seated at the table, and the obvious good will between the General Secretary and these visitors lightened the mood of the security officers.
As the evening concluded Kirov brought in a man in a naval uniform, introducing him as Vice Admiral Arseniy Grigoriyevich Golovko, currently serving with the Red Banner Northern Fleet. At first the man was surprised to see Volsky, as here was an Admiral he did not know. To forestall the questions this would surely raise, Kirov covered by saying he had just appointed this man, who was head of a very secret project.
“I will have to find a way to explain your presence here, Admiral,” he had whispered to Volsky at the dinner. “And to explain your ship when it pulls into the harbor. So for now you are a state secret, a special project, and I can keep curious men under control if that will be a help to you. There is a good harbor north of the city here that we have been considering for a new shipyard. Perhaps you know it?”
“Severomorsk,” said Volsky, smiling. “Yes, we sailed from that port… eighty-one years from now.” It still sounded fantastic and unbelievable every time he considered it. “Admiral Golovko will make good company here. In our day we had a ship that bore his name as well.”
“Good then,” said Kirov enthusiastically. “The place is yours. I will marshal the resources to have facilities built there, and for now you will find it a safe anchorage. One day I should dearly like to see this ship of yours, but for now I am needed in Moscow.”
“I will arrange a tour when next we meet,” said Volsky.
“Then is there anything else I can do for you; anything you need?”
Fedorov raised his hand and Kirov leaned around Volsky to smile at him. “Yes Fedorov? You have a request?”
“If I may, sir. Books,” he said. “History books.”
Kirov smiled.
Schettler, John
Kirov Saga: Darkest Hour: Altered States — Volume II (Kirov Series)