“You mean in 1908?”
“Correct. Do we play the real game, where we have every chance of winning, or do we stick it out here in 1943 with all these half measures, taking our chances against those stealth jets, and God only knows what else. You said yourself that the continuum is fragile, and I’ve already seen what’s been happening in 2021. The nukes are flying. I’ve seen them with my own eyes. So what else might get blasted into the past. We already know that this war seems to act like a net for all those fish. I wonder why?”
“Probably because there were so many nexus points and crossing lines of fate here,” said Fedorov. “That’s the way that American physics professor would put things. This war was one crucial moment of potential change after another. On any given day, decisions are made, engagements fought, and they could all send the entire history off on a new direction. Look what’s just happened with the German return to a strategy in the Middle East. We had Kinlan’s Brigade here to stop them the first time with Operation Scimitar, but he’s gone—another incident where something broke through to this time frame from the future. Kinlan got here thanks to one of our nukes aimed at Sultan Apache, and he probably died when we took another shot at the modern day port of Tobruk. So yes, we could see more of this sort of fallout, with every nuke that gets thrown in 2021 having the potential to send something our way.”
“Could there be some method to that madness?” asked Karpov. “After all, with every contamination here, things get more and more skewed in this history. This situation here is a perfect example. Unless we find a way to stop them, the Japanese now have an Ace in the hole against the Americans, and this time it’s a war winner. 1943 was a tipping point. If they do get to those Essex Class fleet carriers, the US will see its war aims set back a full year here. All these changes may have yet one more effect—not only on this present time, but also on the outcome of the war, and the entire future built after that. Now I’ll tell you another of my dark thoughts. That could be exactly what time intends.”
That statement felt like a cold finger on the back of Fedorov’s neck. It had a sinister, chilling implication about it, and he looked at Karpov, wanting to hear what he thought. “Explain,” he said.
“She intends to so warp this present, that the future that built this ship cannot take shape. When we first came here, we had that future as some justification for our existence. You said it yourself, Fedorov, knock down some key pillar here and this ship never gets built. The reason for our existence is eliminated, which opens a very dark black hole beneath us no matter where we sail. You talk about Paradox? How can we persist here if Mother Time arranges it so that Kirov was never even built?”
“I’m not sure,” said Fedorov. “Kamenski might have something to say about it.”
“Kamenski? He was dead set on killing this ship himself! That’s why he sent Gromyko and Kazan back here. Alright, we changed that agenda, and put bigger fish in the frying pan. Now we realize that can’t be accomplished here. But in 1908, all things are possible. From there, we reign supreme.”
“You mean to reinstate the mission to kill Sergei Kirov?”
“One of them has to die, Fedorov, either the man, or the ship that was named after him. And that’s just for starters. We go back, and we collar Volkov as well, and that puts the entire Orenburg Federation in the bag. And if I take this ship back, as before, I can assure that the Japanese never occupy our territory”
“I see,” said Fedorov. “The odds are thickening up here, and you want to go back to a time when you’re invulnerable again.”
“It does make sense, Fedorov. Wouldn’t you agree? We go there, do all these things, and then there’s only one thing left to do in our plan—removing ourselves from the time line.”
“And what do you propose?” asked Fedorov. “You plan on scuttling the ship—Kazan too if we can get that boat back there with us somehow?”
“That would be an option, but we could also try one other thing—we could just go home.”
“To 2021?”
“Where else? That’s the war we belong in, my friend—not this one.”
“Assuming we tried all this, how do we get Kirov back there again?”
“Rod-25.”
“How do you know that would work? It could send us anywhere, forward, back a few years as it happened once before. If we end up in 1940, for example, then we get the whole Paradox scenario again.”
“Time has already played that game,” said Karpov. “No, I don’t think she’ll want to play it again. Now I’ll say something that has been ripening in my own mind for some time. We aren’t just anybody here Fedorov. We matter—and a very great deal. Here we sit, discussing the prospect of changing all the history since 1908, and we could do it! That’s what makes us special. When you and I decide something, say we’re going to do something, it’s no idle boast. We’re important, and therefore the things that we intend have weight—they have power. Our will has real and tangible power.”
“I intended to go back and kill Sergei Kirov,” said Fedorov. “Look how that turned out.”
“Do you know why?” Karpov folded his arms. “Because I intended that you should not kill him. I didn’t agree, and I’m not just anybody. But together, if we reach one mind on this, then I don’t think anything will stop us. Throw in Admiral Volsky on our side of this and the power of our intention gets even stronger. That’s what I believe. If we decide this, then we throw our own fates to the wind. We plunge that control rod into our little slice of infinity within the ship’s reactor core, and Time has to make a choice. Where does she send us—back to 1940 so she gets another massive paradox to sort through? I don’t think so. No, I think she’ll see that we get exactly where we intend to go—and that goes for Kazan as well. You and I stand here aboard Kirov, and we’ll get back to 1908. Volsky stands aboard Kazan, and Gromyko with his mandate from Kamenski, and something tells me they will get back too. Why would Time want us anywhere else—anywhere but the one place where we can really deal with this madness?”
“Astounding,” said Fedorov. “I’m starting to think you may have something here. It all accords with Dorland’s Time theory. I’ve read that book over an over since we got caught up in this web. Do you know what the very first entry in his time glossary is? Absolute Certainty. It’s a condition brought about by willful determination—not just by anyone, but by people who matter—Prime Movers, according to Dorland. That’s what you’re saying about us when you say we matter, that our will has pull and power. We’re Prime Movers, the both of us—Volsky too, and possibly even Gromyko, since he’s been cooked into the same borscht here with all the rest of us. The concept of Absolute Certainty serves to restrict or limit possible variations in the outcome of things—it serves to mitigate unintended consequences, and force events into accord with the will of the Prime Mover.”
“Just what I was suggesting,” said Karpov. “I should read this book!”
“Yes,” said Fedorov. “We’ve already seen a good number of things in it happen here. We’ve faced Paradox, saw the real effect of a Dual Heisenberg Wave that gave rise to your brother—a living Doppelganger. We’ve moved from one Nexus Point and Meridian to another, each with its own outcomes and consequences. We’ve seen the real manifestation of a time loop, and one that could even repeat again if we aren’t careful. Hell, I’ve listened to Elena Fairchild talking about a Grand Finality when things become so convoluted that they are insoluble, and no clear future can arise. Now here we are, two Prime Movers, talking about going back to the Point of Origin, the point of first divergence in 1908. Damnit Karpov. You’re right!”