Volsky’s eyes narrowed. “Yes… he could. He could find the man you met there, for example, Mironov, the young Sergei Kirov, and he could kill him. What would happened then?”
“Sir? Kill Kirov? Then we get Josef Stalin back.”
“Yes, we do. Does that mean we also see him unite Russia under his iron fist-that these altered states will no longer exist? Have you considered that, Fedorov?”
“Frankly I haven’t considered it, Admiral. It never occurred to me. But killing Sergei Kirov? Somehow after meeting the man he became, I think that would be very hard to do, sir.”
“Yes, I agree. Who in their right mind would want to replace him with Stalin? We might re-unite our homeland. I don’t think this Volkov character could even stand against him, but we get all the rest with him-the detention camps, the purges, the millions dead in the Gulags. Which world would you prefer to live in, Fedorov?”
“I see your point, sir. Yet every coin has two sides. Suppose a man were to go down those steps and find Ivan Volkov instead? That is how he moved in time, sir. We are certain of it now. Volkov went down those steps, and if another man followed him down, perhaps this Orenburg Federation would never arise? Perhaps Kirov could then unite the country under his banner.”
“An interesting proposition.” Volsky shook his head. “Here we stand, two fools, one old and weary, one young and eager. Here we stand considering how we might change all modern history in a single stroke. At the moment we have placed this ship and crew on the scales, but I wonder if we are heavy enough to shift the balance, Fedorov. We have only so many missiles, and while we can decide the fate of naval engagements, that does little to determine the outcome of the land war. Yes, we still have our special warheads, but that is a fairly radical lever on events that I would hope I never have to use. Yet here we calmly discuss how we might do more than every missile in our dwindling magazines with just a single bullet from Sergeant Troyak’s rifle. It’s maddening. Kill this man and one thing happens. Kill another man and the world spins off its rocker. How can we make such decisions?”
“Sir… We would not have to kill anybody,” said Fedorov. “Apprehending Volkov in 1908 would do the job well enough, would it not?”
“Capturing him?”
“Yes, sir. We just bring him back-a rescue mission. In fact, I can imagine he was quite disoriented after he went down those steps. He might welcome anything that anchors him to the reality he knew. The sight of Russian Naval Marines sent to rescue him would be a great relief.”
“One might think so…” Volsky was considering this deeply now. So if we remove Volkov, can we be sure this Orenburg Federation never arises? What if another man takes Volkov’s place?”
“This we cannot know, Admiral.”
“Yes, it’s like reaching into a dark cupboard for a cookie, and finding a rat. More meddling. The world is shattered as it stands. Who knows what might result if we do this?”
“We do not have to decide that now, sir. We could assemble the mission team and then see if we can get Narva, or some other zeppelin. Admiral Golovko owes us a favor, does he not?”
“He does. How surprising that these old airships could be the key to everything now.”
“Actually, I’m not surprised they are still in use here, sir. Even in our time they were setting up the Krylo Airship project at Omsk. Zeppelins are the perfect transportation solution for the Siberian heartland. They can go where no road or rail can, and with good speed. Our modern designs will make 280kph.”
Volsky considered. “I have arranged a meeting with the British at the Faeroes. We must get ready to depart in a few days, but I would like to linger here if we attempt this operation. I don’t know what good it would do, but I would feel better seeing to this before I meet with the British again.”
“I understand, sir.”
“And what about Karpov?”
Fedorov stumbled in his thinking a bit. Karpov… Another rogue was at large in the history as well. It wasn’t just Volkov they had to worry about.
“I see that gives you pause,” said Volsky, “Yes, what about Karpov? Admiral Karpov, if your intelligence is now correct. He has zeppelins too. I think we need to know more about the dangers such a mission might face. That said, I think we must also give it every consideration. Select the mission team, and have Mister Nikolin see if he can reach Admiral Golovko. I will also have to request a brief delay with the British. In the meantime, we have a great deal to discuss.”
The old “B-Series” zeppelins built by the Russians were long gone. They had all crashed into mountains, failed in storms, or simply run afoul of power lines to catch fire. One had its ballast tanks sheared off an ascended so rapidly that it’s inflation bags exploded. Another fell prey to simple incompetence when its service crew forgot to remove the caps from the exhaust valves, which resulted in a rupture of the hull.
In their place, however, the much more successful “C-Series” had corrected many of the problems pioneered in earlier decades. They successfully converted to helium lifting gas, incorporated the new Duralumin frames and Vulcan self-sealing gas bags, and proved remarkably durable. But there were only five ships left in Soviet Russia. Three were serving on the Black Sea Flotilla, Odessa, Sevastopol and Rostov. Only two remained in service in the north, Narva, and Riga, and the latter was far to the south in the Baltic Military District.
“ Narva will have to do, Mister Fedorov. Admiral Golovko says it is a solid ship, and one of the biggest in the fleet. It is as big as the old German Hindenburg class zeppelins, 200,000 cubic meter gas capacity and a useful lift of over 232,000 kilograms.” He was reading from notes he had taken. “Half of that capacity is in the guns they have mounted on the damn thing-recoilless rifles! Golovko says each one has 200 rounds. Those guns and other equipment leave you about 120,000 kilograms for your mission lift.”
“That will be sufficient, sir.” Fedorov was excited at the prospect of another mission, though he had more than a few worries about it.
“Yes, these airships were designed as cargo lifters and troop transports, among other duties. You can carry a full battalion.”
“I think a few platoons is all we have in the Marine contingent, though Karpov was running basic crewmen through combat training and trying to make naval infantry of them.”
“I think our Marines will have to do. I assume Troyak will lead the mission?”
“Both Troyak and Zykov have been to the location, sir. That was in 1942, but it should be much the same in this year. In fact, its basic structure was the same from 1908 to modern times, hiding that fissure in time for decades.”
“I wonder if the innkeeper knew about it?” Volsky was curious.
“I met his daughter when I was there, sir. She said there were stories about that stairwell, and that they were never allowed to play there. It was often sealed off and shunned, and for good reason. I can imagine that inn might have lost more than one visitor on that back stairway.”
“Amazing to think of such a thing.” The Admiral shook his head.
“One other thing, sir. It’s about Orlov.”
“Orlov? What’s the problem?”
“He heard about the mission from one of the Marines and he has asked if he can join the team.”
“What do you think, Fedorov? Is this risky? After all, we never quite got to the bottom of his disappearance from the ship.”
“I know that, sir. It’s just that he’s been going from one duty to the next, and his mood has been souring. I think he still feels diminished and discarded in many ways. After all, he was Chief of Operations.”
“He still is. You restored his rank and position and I let that stand.”
“I know, sir. But his heart is no longer in it, if that makes any sense, and he’s been drinking again. He knows he doesn’t really have any part in the real decisions these days. His morale has obviously suffered.”