“The Grey Legion?” Zolkin had not heard any of this.
“That is what the troops under Volkov’s regime call themselves. Yet, from what I can see, Volkov could have held on to Omsk easily enough. The fact that he is pulling out could hint at an accommodation with the Free Siberian State.”
“You believe they may have negotiated a settlement?” said Volsky, knowing where this might be leading them.
“It is very possible, sir. Volkov is already at war with Kirov’s Soviet Russia. The last thing anyone wants is enemies on two fronts. He may have chosen to end his operation at Omsk to appease Kolchak and the Siberians. Kolchak had a residence in that city for many years, and I do not think the Siberians would have given it up easily.”
“My God,” said Volsky. “Do you think the two of them might ever get together?”
“Karpov and Volkov?” Zolkin smiled. “They would mix like gin and vermouth, eh? What a nice little martini they would make together.”
“Yes,” said Fedorov, “and the olive would be the outcome of this war. If those two states ally, then Soviet Russia is isolated. They are already at war with Volkov on one front. If he is reinforced by the Siberians that will be a major strain on Soviet resources and manpower. Add to that the fact that Germany could invade Russia at any time, and I do not think Kirov’s Red state can survive.”
The implications of what Fedorov was saying were now evident to them all. “And there is one other thing,” he said, his face betraying real fear now. “Karpov knows about us-the ship. He knows we are adrift in time, and a possible player in all these events. I have little doubt that he has wondered often what happened to us. If he suspects that Rod-25 was used as we planned it, then he also knows that control rod has a habit of stopping off in the 1940s on the way to 2021.”
“Yes, I have worried about this,” said Volsky.
“Well sir,” Fedorov continued. “He may be watching for us… waiting, and looking out for any sign of our appearance.”
“But would he not assume we were still in the Pacific?”
“Perhaps, but this ship can move. He obviously made his way to Siberia somehow, so he learned that his plans all backfired and that the Japanese Empire controls Vladivostok and the far east now. He would realize we would have discovered that as well. Then where would we go?”
“I see your point,” said Zolkin.
“He may not know we are here yet,” said Fedorov. “We have only been here a few weeks, and I do not think much news has leaked out on us yet, but it will. The British intelligence has good photos of this ship already, and so do the Soviets. In time our presence here will be known, and don’t forget that Volkov was a Russian Naval Intelligence officer too.”
“The bear is out of his cave,” said Kamenski. “Yes, they will soon learn we are out on the tundra looking for fish and berries.”
“But that is not all I’m worried about,” said Fedorov. “There is something else we have to consider now. What if they discover that stairway at Ilanskiy?”
“Ilanskiy?” Volsky spoke up. “But Karpov knows nothing about that. He was out to sea with the Pacific Fleet when you launched the operation to rescue Orlov.”
“What about Volkov?” said Fedorov. “He went down those stairs too. Might he not wonder about that place?”
They were all silent, thinking it through. Then Kamenski spoke.
“Gentlemen, the young Captain here makes a very telling point. That stairway at Ilanskiy may still exist in this world. If it does, it might even still connect the year 1908 to this time, and even extend to the year 2021. It did that in the world we came from, and it may do so here. Think about this for a moment. If we could go back up those stairs, to our time…” The implications were blooming in all their minds like black roses in the Devil’s Garden.
“What would a man like Karpov, or Volkov do with the power that stairway represents?” Kamenski was thinking out loud now. “Would they go forward to escape this mad world? Yet what if they had grown all too comfortable running things here, then what? Would they go up those stairs and bring things back… Weapons? Technology? Or perhaps they might simply have a look at how things might turn out?”
“Or worse,” said Fedorov. “What if someone goes down those stairs, returning to 1908 to start this all over again? That stairway represents a very grave risk. It must not be discovered or ever used again by either of these men.”
“What do you suggest?” asked Volsky.
“We must destroy it,” said Fedorov. “Destroy it and forever close the breach in time there, if we can. Or God help us if we cannot, because that will either become the stairway to heaven, or the stairway to hell.”
Chapter 27
The airship emerged from thick overhead clouds, a monstrous thing in the sky, big as an ocean liner, brooding over the sallow landscape as it slowly descended. Abakan glided gently down, following the steel railway line as it wound its way through stands of pine. Behind it came a second zeppelin, lighter in color than the dull slate grey of Abakan, the Angara. It followed in the air wake of the command ship, a pair of bulbous behemoths gliding through the lowering sky.
Negotiations at the Omsk meeting had dragged on for days on the lower levels as arrangements were made for the withdrawal of Volkov’s forces, and re-occupation of the city by Siberian troops. Karpov supervised everything, tirelessly seeing to the smallest detail to assure that there were no hidden cadres left behind in the city, and that adequate security was in place. Then, satisfied that all was in order, he boarded Abakan and turned east for Novosibirsk.
There Karpov disembarked to rejoin his commiserate headquarters. After working late, filing his report and communicating with Kolchak in Irkutsk via telephone, he took a fitful sleep, rising early to make ready for a another secret foray into the skies, his curiosity driving him east with the wind.
The sun rose at a little after 5:00 in the morning of July 27th to begin its long journey, climbing up through the low clouds and arcing high overhead. It would not set that day until two hours before midnight, and the weather and winds out of the west seemed favorable for a speedy journey. Talmenka, the third zeppelin in Karpov’s flotilla, remained at Novosibirsk. The other two airships replenished and carefully checked for any maintenance needs before their next flight. They continued east, following a course that would take them over Kamenka and Krasnoyarsk to Kansk, some 800 kilometers distant.
The airships slipped their mooring cables, rose into the sky and were on their way an hour after dawn, rising up to pierce the cloud deck like whales breaching the surface of the ocean. The upper level winds were very steady, allowingAir Commandant Bogrov to make a hundred KPH and cut their flight time to just eight hours. Karpov had spent most of that time in his air cabin, thinking, planning, wondering.
So now Volkov and I are two peas in a pod, he thought. Be careful. That man is not to be trusted. That theater at the end of our discussion was good warning. Pull a revolver on me, will he? No doubt he was infuriated by the fact that his security men had failed to find my own weapon. But he would not have killed me, any more than I would have killed him. It would have upset everything he was planning. Yes, I think he took Omsk last winter simply to give it back this summer and buy himself a tentative peace.
Yet we are stronger together than either state could be alone. Siberia has just dragged itself up off its knees, and we still see the shadow of the Japanese Empire darkening our borders. Volkov knows that is our primary concern for the moment. That vranyo I gave him about putting half a million Tartar cavalry in the field was enough to give him pause. He really may not know how strong we are just now. One day he will find that out.
Yet how shocking it was to learn who this man really is! Ivan Volkov, Kapustin’s lapdog. It seems the dog has become a wolf here, even as I have become a bit of a Siberian Tiger in these two short years. Volkov’s presence here was shocking, completely unexpected. Once I had time to think about it, I knew what my next move was at once. Here… this place.