He had a very limited life span here, and now he knew he had no play in the Sea of Japan looking for Karpov. All he could do would be to try and persuade him not to take the actions he was planning, and to wait for the Alexandrov—to wait for his own arrival, and most likely his own death by Paradox. No. His only solution had to be here, at Ilanskiy. It was Mironov, just as he had reasoned it out with Karpov. It was Mironov’s death, or nothing. At least he had the stairway up to escape the Paradox, but that presented other problems.
How to resolve the issue of the Irkutsk?
I can’t very well leave that airship here, he thought. Suppose I do what is necessary at Ilanskiy, then we re-embark on the Irkutsk. If I took it back to the epicenter, would we shift again? Would Time deliver us back to 1942? That sounded all too convenient. While he had good reason to assert his travel up and down the stairway would always deliver the walker back to the approximate time he last left, that same logic did not necessarily apply to his travel on that airship.
I can see how we might have been pulled here to this time by the sheer gravity of the Tunguska Event. I’ve thought that all along, when Kirov shifted here after Karpov set off that nuke in 1945 and killed the Iowa. Things seem to fall through to 1908 easily enough, perhaps pulled by that time gravity I’m speculating on. But would the inverse be true? I was able to get the Anatoly Alexandrov from 1908 back to 2021 again, but that was the work of Rod-25 and possibly Chief Dobrynin’s magic as well. Something tells me that I would only be courting further disaster if I took Irkutsk back to that epicenter. It’s just too risky. So what do I do?
The words that spoke now in his mind might have easily been uttered by Karpov. He would have the solution easily enough, but for Fedorov, getting there was an agony—the Irkutsk had to be destroyed, and not just the airship itself, but perhaps Symenko and the entire crew as well. Orlov had come out with his comical description of the whole damn crew, all packed into the downstairs dining room at the railway inn, and filing up that stairway, one after another. Would it work? He would have to try, because his only alternative would be Karpov’s solution—take down the airship, crew and all.
To do this, we would have to anchor the airship at Ilanskiy, a nice eyeful for anyone there to see. I’d need Symenko’s cooperation, and then the crew would have to disembark, probably using the same basket they hauled us up on. What a scene, and what effect would it have on the locals here, particularly when I give Troyak the go ahead to take that airship down? Could he? I haven’t even spoken with him on this.
“Sergeant Troyak?
“Sir?”
“A word with you please. We have a situation here… I can’t allow this airship to remain at large here, and I don’t think we can navigate back with it the way we came. Understand?”
Troyak merely nodded, waiting.
“Can you destroy it? Is there any weapon you have that could do that?”
“Yes sir. We have a handheld ATGM, and three thermobaric rounds.”
“Thermobaric? You’re talking about fire now.”
“Aye sir, and it would wreak havoc on this airship if we hit it from the ground. I could also rig up grenades at a few key places, the engineering section, engines. It would bust up the equipment.”
“Yes,” said Fedorov. “Nothing could be left for the locals to find or use. All the equipment, radars, radio sets, even the guns would have to be destroyed.”
“Most of the ship would die in the fires,” said Troyak, “but the bigger guns might have to be revisited on the ground and we could pop grenades down the barrels, or into the breech. That should do it.”
“You brought all this with you?”
“Standard weapons loadout. We assembled these things in packs, then we can just grab them and deploy.”
“I see. Well, that airship coming down would make quite a scene. Perhaps we should plan to do this at some distance from Ilanskiy, then we move to the town on foot. I have business at the inn, and I’ll need to get there as soon as possible. I suppose you could lead the crew to the railway inn after the demolition. It would be very important that this gets done flawlessly. No useable equipment could be left behind, and each and every last crewman would have to be herded to the town, and right to the railway inn. We can’t lose a single man. Otherwise they’d be stranded here.”
Even as he said all this, he realized how insane it was going to sound to Symenko. There was no way he could get him to understand and accept what was involved here. He was still under the assumption that this was 1942, and his fate was sailing towards a safe haven in Soviet Russia. Trying to explain that he needed his entire crew to assemble in that railway inn was going to be quite a challenge.
“Sergeant,” he said. “It’s occurred to me that Captain Symenko may not be cooperative in all of this. But neither he, nor any of his crew, can remain here, and that airship has to be destroyed. I may have to make a very tough decision here.”
“Aye sir,” said Troyak. He knew what Fedorov was saying now, hard as it sounded.
“This is 1908,” Fedorov went on, looking for the rhyme and reason. “If any of them fail to come with us… well, they can’t remain here. The impact that could have on future days would be impossible to calculate, and I cannot allow it to happen, not under any circumstances.”
“I understand, sir,” said Troyak stoically. “You give the order. My men and I will do whatever is necessary.”
Troyak could see that this was bothering Fedorov a good deal, but he was a soldier, signed on in the service of the Black Death. It was therefore no problem for him to know that he would become death in that service, and it would not be the first time he had taken lives, and for reasons, under orders, that would be trivial compared to what Fedorov was explaining here. He tapped his collar, where the comm-link microphone was embedded in all their service jackets. “Sir, pinch off that collar mike you have there, and give the order ‘Downfall.’ My men will handle the rest.”
Fedorov could say nothing more, simply nodding, but the look of guilt was plain on his face. In another hour they would make their approach to Ilanskiy. Now he had to see what he could do about Symenko.
“Look,” said Symenko, “I don’t have to know your business here. All I was to do was ferry your ass to Irkutsk! Now look at me. So now it’s back to plan A, and we’re coming up on Ilanskiy. Strange that we haven’t been spotted and challenged yet. I suppose that wreck off to the northeast has the radios all fouled up, but that doesn’t matter. Riga and Narva might be waiting there to blow us to hell.”
“They won’t be there,” said Fedorov, “I can assure you, but here’s my plan. There’s good clear ground just west of Ilanskiy. We can come in real low. The sun set two hours ago at 21:40. It won’t rise until a whisker after 03:00. We’ll come in before that and go to ground to drop land anchors. Then I’ll make my way to Ilanskiy on foot from there. All I ask is that you wait there.”
“What for? You won’t be coming back. Karpov’s men will have you in no time at all.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
Symenko just grinned at him. “Alright, assuming we get anywhere near the place, I’ll hover shallow for you. Since you parlayed a safe harbor for me and my men with the Soviets, I owe you one. But if I catch even a glimpse of another airship, I’ll be up and on my way. You’ll be on your own down there. Understand? I’ve told you that I’m a dead man if Karpov gets me, and there it is.”