“May I ask how you achieve this?”
“I’m afraid that would be a very long discussion. Let us simply say that we have developed a means of directing this fire by radar. You are aware of this technology?”
“Of course, though it is a relatively new development. Your systems must be very powerful to achieve this level of accuracy. If I am not being presumptuous, our government would be very much interested in learning more about this achievement. Is it common to all naval ships now deployed by Soviet Russia?”
“It is not. Our ship is unique in that respect. We were a secret project, a prototype.” Volsky adopted the cover Sergie Kirov had given him on the matter, thinking it a convenient way to avoid an explanation that might never be understood or accepted by Tovey. He was still having enough trouble understanding and accepting it himself.
“I see,” said Tovey. “Then this technology is in trials. Well, I should think you would be rather pleased with the results, and we would be eager to discuss these weapons further with you, if you would ever be so inclined. Great Britain is prepared to offer much in exchange for the friendship I hope you have brought here today.”
“And we would be pleased to offer much in return,” said Volsky. “That is exactly what I am now empowered to offer you, Admiral Tovey. I have met with Sergei Kirov in person, and I am also aware that back channel negotiations are now underway between his government and your own. But I am pleased and honored to be the first to formally confirm that Soviet Russia will now propose a general alliance and eternal friendship with Great Britain.”
Tovey beamed at that, as it was exactly what he hoped to secure here. “Admiral, I am grateful to be the man that receives this news, and I have no doubt that my government will eagerly embrace this offer. England stands alone in the West, yet Soviet Russia stands alone in the East. Between us lies a darkness spinning out a deadly gyre of war that now threatens to devour us both. It is my firm belief, and that of my government, that only by joining arms together can either of us have any hope to survive.”
“Agreed, Admiral Tovey. And I will also say that together we can, and must, prevail.”
Tovey proposed a brief toast to the alliance, which would be formalized within days in London where Soviet negotiators were waiting on the outcome of this initial meeting. As the brandy warmed all present, Tovey looked at the Russians, the clear light of another matter now glowing in his eyes.
“Admiral Volsky,” he said quietly. “When I first met with you I had the distinct feeling that I had done so once before. Of course I dismissed it as the empty headedness of an old man, but I must confess that I remain somewhat haunted by this. I must now share with you a discovery that was made by our intelligence services. Frankly, I did not know what to make of it when it was first revealed to me. I found it quite shocking. If you will pardon the mystery for a moment, perhaps the best way I might proceed here would be to hand you this envelope.”
Tovey reached over to a side table where he had placed his briefcase, opening it to produce a plain Manila envelope. He stood, with some sense of gravity apparent in his features, and slowly handed it to Admiral Volsky.
Tovey had received the envelope from Alan Turing, as he had requested, and it contained five startling photographs of the Russian battlecruiser, all with those mysterious labels affixed to the back, all misdated one or two years hence. He sat down watching closely to gauge Volsky’s initial reaction as he opened the envelope. Just as he expected, the Russian Admiral’s eyes widened with great surprise. Then a look of bewilderment passed over his heavy features, and he looked immediately to his attending Captain, the man named Fedorov, who was equally astonished as he took the photographs, slowly flipping from one to the next. The Russians spoke to one another, an urgent energy in their voices. Nikolin did not know whether he should translate, but Volsky quickly told him to ask where the photographs had come from. The answer he received was equally perplexing.
“You may immediately come to believe that those photographs were taken in the course of our earlier meeting, but I assure you, they were not. I must also be frank in saying that the authenticity of these images has been questioned, though they would have to be the work of a real expert if they are fraudulent. Is there any light you might possibly shed on that question?” There, Tovey had tossed the hot potato to the Russians and watched them pass it back and forth, with much discussion between Fedorov and Volsky that went untranslated until the Admiral apologized.
“My Admiral asks you to forgive him for a very brief moment, sir,” said Nikolin. “He needs to discuss something with Mister Fedorov.”
“Well Fedorov?” said Volsky. “What do you make of all this? We both know what those photos show. This one is that attack we suffered in the Tyrrhenian Sea, the very same one that sent me plummeting from that ladder and into a lengthy stay with Doctor Zolkin. I am certain of it. And this one here is clearly the moment of our departure from the Straits of Gibraltar, under the flag of truce I negotiated with this very same man! How could this be? That was in 1942!”
“I’m as shocked to see these as you are, sir,” said Fedorov. “But even more shocking is the notion that these could have been forged. That could not happen. How could anyone of this day and time, of this world, be privy to knowledge of those specific events to create something like this? Those landforms are very telling. That is Cape Spartel west of Tangier. And look at this one, sir! It was obviously taken from the shore, and note the ships in the background. Those are King George V class battleships, and I count four!”
Volsky raised a hand. “Forgive us, Admiral Tovey. Just a moment more.” He nodded to Nikolin to translate that. Then to Fedorov he said, “You are correct Fedorov. No one in this world could think to create such photographs as a forgery. And I must tell you that last image of the British fleet in the Western approaches is stunning. It is my very own recollection of that moment, made real in this photograph. I must conclude that these images are authentic, but how?”
“I don’t know how it could be possible, sir.” Fedorov seemed completely flummoxed. Beyond that, how could they possibly explain this to Admiral Tovey? It was a profound mystery. “I can only propose one thing, sir. Remember what Kamenski said when I revealed the strange properties of that stairway at Ilanskiy? He said there may be other places on earth where these rifts in time persisted. Could someone have brought this material from another time? After all, the existence of these photographs is no more startling than our own presence in this room at this moment.”
Volsky nodded. “Agreed. But now I think we have been impolite long enough.” He turned to Admiral Tovey, fixing him with a lingering look, deciding something in a tense moment that might open the doors of mayhem and madness here. But there was no other course as he saw it then. To deny the images would plant a seed of suspicion, which was not what he had come to do. What did Tovey know about them? He had to explore the matter further.
“Please translate everything said from this moment forward, Mister Nikolin. Admiral Tovey, I ask your forgiveness again, but I needed to consult with Mister Fedorov here. As you may have seen, these photographs are somewhat surprising, but you will now be equally astonished to learn that they do, indeed, appear to present moments I have personally experienced. We do not think they are forgeries. Please tell me how you came by them?”
Even though Tovey half expected and hoped he might hear such an answer, it nonetheless came as a shock. The Russian Admiral was telling him these photographs were authentic? How? How could that be so? He hesitated, ever so slightly, then spoke, resolved to dig yet a little deeper into the mystery.