“1908?” said Volsky. “I feel a very bad case of déjà vu coming on when I hear that.”
“The root of the problem lies there,” said Karpov. They were meeting aboard Kirov, now sailing about 200 nautical miles due west of Nauru. Karpov had taken Kirov well out into the Pacific, far from Truk, Rabaul, or any sea lanes that Japanese were likely to be using. Nauru was an outlier of the Marshall Islands, which were well to the north, so it was relatively isolated. There was a small Japanese garrison there, and they had built an airstrip, but they were not concerned about discovery. The Japanese might have a few seaplanes on the island, but in the unlikely event of a search directly on their heading, they would see the plane long before it ever got close to them.
“Our plan to try and cleanse this time cannot succeed.” Karpov began to summon the line of reasoning he had shared with Fedorov. “It was long odds to simply get Takami, but now look, we’ve another entire Japanese task force out there, and getting all those ships is not likely. I had to use a nuke just to survive our first encounter with them, and consider the impact that could have on this time if we fail to sink each and every ship.”
“Yes, this is certainly a complication we never expected,” said Volsky. “Can we kill them? Captain Gromyko, what do you think?”
“I got Takami, and I could have probably put that other destroyer down too—the Takao. But we didn’t engage, and for good reason. There were still a lot of other ships out there, and they all carry helicopters that can find and kill Kazan. Even if I evaded, how many more ships do they have? I only have so many missiles, and it can take a good many to kill a single ship. If you order me to engage, I will get you one or two more, but I cannot promise you I can get them all, or even find that carrier.”
“You see?” said Karpov. “And if their carrier survives, it will wreak havoc here. It could devastate the American fleet—change everything.”
“So your solution is to shift backwards and leave this task force here to do exactly that? I don’t understand.” Volsky folded his arms.
“It’s simple, Admiral,” said Karpov. “We have no real assurance that we can get all those ships, and that pretty much rips our little plan to shreds. So we can’t do what we planned here in 1943. We simply don’t have the power. Even if we did sink all those Japanese ships, what about Volkov? Yes, we have a contract out on him now, but that might not work. He’s a very clever and crafty man, and his security is very tight. How long do we wait while we run one operation after another to try and get him? But even that is irrelevant, because if we did kill him, his Orenburg Federation will still be there, and someone else will just take over. There’s simply no way we can cleanse this meridian of Orenburg. I knew this all along.”
“Then why were you so eager to sign on to this plan?” asked Volsky.
“That’s simple—to make certain our Captain Gromyko here would not do what he was sent here to do. I had no desire to get into a shooting war with Kazan.”
“So you went along only to save your own skin?”
“Correct. Then we get F-35’s in the sky, and I knew at that moment that the entire plan was doomed to fail. We can’t fix things here, but in 1908, we become all powerful.”
Volsky took a long breath. “We moved heaven and earth to go back there and get to you,” he said, just a little anger creeping into his tone. “We saved the ship, and we thought you were dead, only to find you survived to work your way into this history again. So now you are head of this Free Siberian State, and it surprises me to hear you suggest that we go back to 1908 and make certain that state never arises.”
“Anything else we do is a half measure,” said Karpov. “Yes, I’ll miss my little throne here. Being head of State is rather comfortable. At one point I decided I would do better here than I could anywhere else. I decided to stay and fight my war here too, to live or die here, come what may.”
“And now you are willing to give all that up; forsake the power you’ve worked so hard to grasp here?”
“It was rather self-serving,” said Karpov. “Listen to our Mister Fedorov. He’s figured out more of this than you may care to hear. Once he warned me that we might do something, change some key event, and it would mean that the future that arises never conceives a ship like Kirov. How’s that for a nice humbling experience. Yes, I was having a good deal of fun sailing about and bullying the Japanese Navy, and I was only getting started. Now, however, that navy can shove back, and I’m not one to flirt with death. Are you?”
“So this is all just to save your skin again, this time from the Japanese.”
“Think so if you like, but realize that anything we do here is futile. It will never be enough. Understand? 1908 is the only place where we can get a real lever on these events. From there we are powerful enough to change everything. We can eliminate Mironov—Sergei Kirov. Sadly that will put Stalin back in the picture, but Stalin wins this war, as we all know. We can also get Ivan Volkov before he ever builds his Orenburg Federation, and so we solve that problem very easily. Yes, that means the Bolsheviks unite all Russia, as in the real history, and that united Russia defeats Germany. Doing this is the only way to reset the clock, and get the history back on the right track—and that history is what gives rise to Kirov.”
Volsky had to admit that this was true. From 1943, they could simply not accomplish their desired mission. From 1908, it seemed a simple affair. “Fedorov,” he said. “What is the plan?”
“We haven’t really finalized that yet sir. This meeting was the first step. It’s something we all have to agree upon and support.”
“Well how in the world would we go there? You know how risky it is to use that old control rod.”
“You mean Rod-25?” said Karpov. “Yes, I have it here aboard the ship, but it isn’t the old rod. It’s practically unused. In fact, it has only been used once, to bring this ship here from 2021. Remember, this isn’t the original Kirov, and not the old Rod-25 either.”
“So you think we can dip that rod and it will simply take this ship back to 1908?”
“I do.”
“But why? It could take us anywhere, just as it did before.”
“I don’t think so. Look, this situation needs resolution. Time has been slapped around and bent over the couch by us for long enough. If we expose ourselves in another shift, and with the intention of resolving this nightmare once and for all, then I think she’ll cooperate. 1908 is the only place where we can fix things. I know that, Fedorov knows it, and so does Mother Time. So yes, if we shift, that’s where we’ll go. I’m sure of this. Fedorov, tell him. Tell him about this Absolute Certainty.”
The Admiral looked at Fedorov again, one eyebrow raised.
“It’s a concept from Dorland’s Theory of Time,” said Fedorov. “It’s easy to see that we have all been Prime Movers in creating this history. Each one of us has thought to shoulder the blame. I thought it was all my fault, Karpov will say it was his doing, and you will think that you are to blame. In any case, we did change things, and that means we have power—real abiding power to influence events. Dorland calls us Prime Movers. If we set our minds on something, the theory says that a condition of Absolute Certainty arises. This is why Karpov believes we’ll get where we intend to go if we try a shift—to 1908. But it will take all of us together in this to create that condition of Absolute Certainty.”