And even in nonemergency situations. From the seminars and training sessions he had been required to attend at general staff workshops, he could not see that the planners and military bureaucrats had learned anything from the misadventures in Afghanistan.
“Thank you, Captain. I will see if I cannot clarify the chain of command.”
After Rastonov left, Cherbykov said, “Will it be possible, General, to clarify?”
“We are borrowing much from the Americans, Alexi, in economic and domestic issues. Perhaps it is time to borrow an American command structure.”
“You will speak to Orlov?”
“And demand full command and responsibility. It is my responsibility, after all.” With each day that went by, Oberstev was feeling the increasing weight of the catastrophe.
“The Navy may take exception to Air Force Command.”
“Yes.”
“And Admiral Orlov could relieve you of duty.”
Oberstev reached for his shoes. “We will see if he does.”
September 6
Chapter Twelve
“My inclination, General Oberstev, is to remove you from command,” Adm. Grigori Orlov said. “I am supported in that by Chairman Yevgeni.”
It would be the only issue the two had ever agreed on, Obserstev thought.
“However, after discussions with the general staff at Stavka and with the President, it has been decided that the situation is entirely unique. As you are familiar with the rocket and the reactor, you are to be named field commander for the duration of the recovery operation.”
After the screaming argument Obserstev and Orlov had gotten into the night before, the admiral’s controlled voice and tone was unexpected this morning.
Gurevenich acknowledged the change in attitude, even if it was dictated from higher authority, by displaying his own courtesy. “Thank you, Admiral Orlov. I appreciate your support in this, and I assure you that the mission will run much smoother with communications lines that are clearly drawn.”
“I will be satisfied when the reactor is on the deck of the Timofey Olʼyantsev,” Orlov said. “Confirming written orders for your assignment will be forwarded to all ships. And Chairman Yevgeni reminds you to heed the counsel of Colonel Sodur.”
Not bloody likely, Obserstev thought. “By all means, Admiral.”
Both of the flag officers signed off the scrambled radio frequency, and Obserstev replaced the microphone on its desk pedestal.
Col. Alexi Cherbykov said, “My congratulations to you, General.”
“Let us not be premature, Alexi. Orlov mentioned my expertise with nuclear reactors.”
“Yes, he did. Actually, what he said was your, ‘familiarity’.”
“I have never even touched a nuclear reactor. And we did not bother bringing such experts with us.”
“I will call Plesetsk and have a team assembled, Gen. They can be on instant call, if they are needed.”
“‘If,’ Alexi? Let us say ‘when,’ please.”
Brande wanted everyone to rest today, but unable to sleep or sit, Valeri Dankelov climbed the companionway to the bridge, then asked to use the radio compartment. He sat at the console and pulled the microphone close.
His call was immediately answered by the Olʼyantsev’s communications operator, but it took several minutes to locate Gennadi Drozdov.
He had met Drozdov at a conference in Paris in 1988, and they had subsequently stayed in touch with each other, occasionally sharing ideas and theories in regard to the acoustic control of robots.
The Orion did not have direct satellite telephone communications with the Soviet ship. They would speak on an open radio frequency, subject to monitoring by any number of people and nations, and Dankelov had learned in his first, short conversation with Drozdov to be cautious in what he said. Though Dankelov had not learned a great deal from the Russian scientist in their first contact, he had managed to at least establish a dialogue.
“Valeri, are you there? Over.”
“Yes, Gennadi. Good morning. Over.”
There was some static which interfered with a clear understanding of each other’s speech. After several exchanges of pleasantries, they achieved a rhythm which allowed them to drop the technical “over” at the end of each transmission.
“Valeri, can you tell me where you are located?”
“Not precisely,” Dankelov said. “I have not been paying attention. I believe it will be another twenty-four hours, or more, before we arrive.”
“We should reach the impact point early in the morning, I think. But we are prepared. The equipment is ready.”
“Will you use the Seeker vehicle, Gennadi?”
The hesitation before the response came told Dankelov that Drozdov had a monitor, someone to tell him yes or no in regard to his topics.
“Yes. You already know of it. We have spoken before.”
“I remember, though not all of the details. It has video, sonar, and manipulator arms, does it not? Similar to our Atlas with the exception of sonar capability.”
Another pause. “Yes.”
“And tethered control?”
“No. No longer. We…” Another pause, while an argument took place, then Drozdov continued, “We have installed the phase four model of the Loudspeaker acoustic control system.”
Dankelov had not known that the Loudspeaker system was already in its fourth generation of design. “You are finding success?”
“Immense success, Valeri.”
“I am jealous,” Dankelov said. He decided to reveal something of Brande’s plans, to encourage whoever was listening to Drozdov’s end of the dialogue that information sharing was a two-way street.
“My own system, called, if you remember, Tapdance, is not yet operational. We will be using the DepthFinder, towing SARSCAN, for the search phase.”
“Is this the SARSCAN model we spoke of last April?”
“No, Gennadi. We still do not have a video capability.”
“Therein lies the beauty of Loudspeaker Four, Valeri. We are acoustically transmitting video images.”
“Digital encoding?”
“Of course. We… ” Drozdov was interrupted again. When he finally came back, he said, “I must sign off now, Valeri. The radio is required for another task.”
“I understand. Perhaps we may talk again this afternoon?”
“I will look forward to it,” Drozdov said.
Dankelov signed off the frequency, but continued to sit in the operator’s swivel chair. He was, in fact, jealous of Drozdov’s advances in video transmission. Jealous, but also excited. The revelation had given him something new to think about, and he wondered how much he could learn from Drozdov before this operation ended.
The intricacies of Loudspeaker Four would be a State secret, naturally, but he hoped to discover what he could about the theory that had gone into it. Dankelov was not particularly concerned about knowing the actual schematics. He could develop his own.
He was not disheartened by the knowledge that Loudspeaker’s circuitry would be considered a CIS possession. Though he frequently longed to return to his homeland, he had learned a great deal about capitalism with which he happened to agree. While he felt no compunction about discussing abstract concepts, he would never reveal the patented designs owned by Marine Visions, himself and others. He could not rationalize any kind of fairness in such revelations.