Kirov Saga: Darkest Hour: Altered States - Volume II (Kirov Series) (33 page)

That
is why I must secure it first! I’m here, now, and I have two airships and a
full battalion of the 18th Siberian Rifles with me. That will be enough for the
moment. I’ll offload that entire force here, and lock that railway inn down
tight as a drum. I can make this a new regional headquarters and bring in more
troops in the weeks ahead. This place is perhaps the most strategic soil in all
of Russia, and it’s mine! Let Volkov and Kirov squabble over the rest.

He
remembered how he had figured out what must have happened to Volkov. The man started
at the top of that stairway and he claimed he was interrogated by NKVD at the
bottom. That had to be in the 1940s. There were no NKVD operating back in 1908.
The Tsar was still in power then. So how did Volkov end up in 1908? He must
have gone down the stairs a second time! You go up those stairs and you move
forward in time. You go down those stairs…

Now
the full implications of what he had just worked out in his mind struck him. My
god, he thought, I have even more power here than I realized! I could go back
there right now, with Tyrenkov and some of his very best men. We’ll go up the
main stairway and then the whole lot could follow me down that service stairway
to the dining room—but to where? Would it work? Would we end up in 1908, or
some other year?

If
it did work… If I could go farther back… Why then Volkov was small potatoes,
wasn’t he? Kirov would be no problem either. I could go back and get rid of
them—pull the weeds before they ever get a chance to spoil my garden.

He
smiled, thinking how easy it would be to do away with his enemies. Then I’ll
handle the matter, won’t I? I’ll be the one who gets rid of Stalin, Volkov,
Kirov and anyone else who gets in my way. Then I could just come back here and
see what has developed. I’ll be the most powerful man in the whole world!

He
passed a moment imagining it all. I was thrown off the back of
Kirov
for
a reason, he now believed. That old Japanese fisherman did not know what he was
doing when he pulled me out of the water, that he had fate himself in his
fishing net! Look how they brought me home. Those few rubles the pilot of that
steamer handed me will end up buying much more than he could imagine. Now I can
be the one who takes control, not just here in Siberia. From 1908 I can manage
everything. I’ll even be able to take an occasional walk up those stairs to see
how the cake is baking, eh?

It
was a heady toxin, and he seemed to delight in the thought of quietly
eliminating his enemies. Yet now he was strangely drained by what he had
experienced. So he decided to savor the moment, let it simmer in his thoughts
for a time, and then go to bed.

There
would be time enough tomorrow to reshape the world.

Chapter 30

More
than one man was
thinking that night. Ivan Volkov was also awake, turning fitfully in his sleep
as he thought about the presence of Karpov here. The news he had received about
the location of that ship—
Kirov
—had shaken him further.

So Kirov has hold of the ship
they gave his name. Or does he? What was that ship doing at Murmansk? Clearly
whoever is now commanding it must have had a mind to go home. Yet how did it
get there? Karpov left to fight his battle in the Pacific. He claimed he was
blown into the past, but still in the Pacific. My intelligence network is very
good. I built it, and it has served me well. There was a squabble between the
German navy and Russian ships in the Kara Sea some days ago. Now I learn that
the Germans ran into trouble and got a nice kick in the pants as they tried to
slink away. What Soviet ship could have backed the Germans off? Was it this
ship?

Who would be in command there?
Not fat old Volsky. He was stuck at Naval Headquarters at Fokino. So it must be
one of the other officers, the
Starpom
—the ex-navigator. Yes, he was the
one who was promoted so oddly, skipping three full ranks. I knew something was
amiss with that. Is he working for Sergie Kirov now? Are they in league? That
would certainly be a problem. That ex-navigator, Volsky’s resident historian…
Yes, it all makes sense now.

My god… that seems so long ago.
Yet I can remember it. Yes, it is as clear to me as if it were just yesterday,
and when I saw Karpov’s face it all came flooding back. I wonder what really
happened to Karpov. Was he lying? Did he really find himself in 1938 as he told
it? Was he sent there to perform a mission of some kind? But he seemed
genuinely surprised to learn I was still alive—that I was the Volkov at the
heart of this Federation. Was that all an act?

Yes, Karpov seemed quite
astonished to see me here and learn who I really was. He could simply not
understand how I came to be here. That is no surprise to me. I still don’t know
what really happened. What was it Karpov suggested? He asked me if I had ever
considered that my strange movement in time had something to do with the place
where it happened, that old railway inn.

The news he had received earlier
that night pricked at him now. It was most unsettling. His intelligence network
said that Karpov had taken his airships back to Novosibirsk, but two set out
almost immediately and headed northeast. His operatives had spotted them
overflying Krasnoyarsk, still heading northeast. Why?

He sat up in bed and reached for
the lamp switch, squinting at the harsh light in the darkened room. Immediately
he heard movement at the door, and a quiet knock. “Is anything wrong, sir?”
came a muffled voice from the guard outside.

“No, nothing.” He said, shuffling
to his writing desk across the room and turning on another light. He looked at
the clock there, seeing it was five in the morning.

“Coffee,” he said at the door.
“Hot coffee.” He had always had a taste for the bean, eschewing tea and needing
something stronger to stimulate his thinking.

“I’ll send for it at once, sir.”

Back at his desk Volkov opened a
drawer and took out a map and ruler. He laid one end on Novosibirsk, and then
lined the ruler up on Krasnoyarsk, following it on to see what lay beyond on
that heading. There it was! Of course! Kansk, the river, and then just a little
ways beyond—there was the tiny hamlet of Ilanskiy! His operatives had been very
specific. Two zeppelins continued northeast. They did not turn southeast for
Irkutsk, so Karpov wasn’t running home to Old Man Kolchak to get another medal
pinned on his chest.

No, he was up to something else,
and his course points right to Ilanskiy. There’s nothing else beyond that town
of any import for hundreds of kilometers.
Sookin Syn!
He’s curious. That
son-of-a-bitch has gone to stick his nose in things and see what he can find.
But what
would
he find there?

There was a quiet knock on the
door, and a servant came in with a tray and two coffee cups. He poured coffee
into both, drank one, and left the second filled on the table. Volkov looked at
the guard and gave him a terse order.

“Send for Kymchek. Tell him to
bring anything he has on what those zeppelins are doing, the ones Karpov
brought with him. I want to know where they are and what they are up
to—understand?”

Even as he said that a cold
thought occurred to him. What would I be up to, he said to himself? Karpov and
I are two fish from the same pond. If I were him I would be trying to figure
out how I got here… Ilanskiy. Yes, he’s trying to see if there’s any connection
with that place and my strange appearance here. I’m almost certain of it. Kymchek
will come in and tell me exactly what I already know.

He walked over to the coffee tray
and poured a fresh cup, using the mug the servant had drunk from. There could
have been poison at the bottom of that other cup. One could never be too
careful, could he? Karpov would certainly like to serve me a spiked coffee if
he could, wouldn’t he? The grand admiral of the Siberian Aero Corps is probably
already planning my undoing. I could crush him like a bug. My fleet is three
times the size of his little airship navy.

Now Volkov remembered a lesson he
had learned and put to good use many times over the decades in his rise to
power here. First, know what the other man wants to know—and get it before he
does. Information was power. Second, kill your enemies before they are powerful
enough to kill you. Sergei Kirov had plucked Stalin out of the stream when he
was just a tadpole.

This Karpov has made remarkable
strides if he only showed up here in 1938. The man’s ambition is impressive. So
now is the time to get the bastard—now while he thinks we’re all nice and
friendly, now while he can crow that he liberated Omsk with a simple threat.
Did he really think I bought that
lozh
about half a million Tartar
Cavalry?

Volkov smiled. Planning the
demise of one’s enemies was such a satisfying endeavor. So what should he do
now? Find out what Karpov knows, and why he’s squatting on that railway inn if that
is where he went. I’ll know soon enough. If he finds nothing he will simply
leave and stick his nose somewhere else. But if he sees an egg or two in that
nest, then he’ll sit on them. Yes, he’ll sit there, and I should begin to see a
buildup in that sector soon.

He did not have long to wait.
Kymchek was very efficient, at any hour. The telephone rang and the voice of
his Intelligence Chief gave him a satisfied smile.

“The zeppelins you have
inquired about are at a small hamlet east of Kansk.”

“Ilanskiy?”

“Yes, Governor-General, that
is the place.”

“What are they doing there?”

“We do not yet know. But
Karpov is there with Abakan and Andarva, and he is disembarking the entire
battalion he had with him during the negotiations. There is a good deal of
activity around the rail yard. They could be setting up a new military depot or
command center.”

“At Kansk? That makes no sense.
It is too far behind the front to perform either role effectively. Why set up
facilities there when he has them in abundance further west at Krasnoyarsk?”

“We are looking into the
matter, sir.”

“Please do. Now tell me what
airships we have available to operate east of the border.”

“Sir? We have Pavlodar,
Astana, Oskemen and the Alexandra still in the Eastern District.”

“Anything north of Omsk?”

“Alexandra is presently at
Tyumen, en-route to Perm. Oskemen is at Petropavlovsk. A little south of the
city, but close enough.”

“Who commands?”

“Symenko is senior officer
aboard Alexandra. A bit surly these days. He wasn’t happy about having to
rename the ship.”

Volkov laughed. “He’ll get over
it. Form a long range reconnaissance group of those two ships. I’ll send the
flight plan and orders through normal channels. I’ll want a full battalion with
each. Understood?”

“Very well sir.”

“And put all the other airships
in the Northern Division on standby alert, including the
Orenburg
.”

“The fleet flagship, sir?”

“Are you going deaf, Kymchek?”

“I will see the orders go out
immediately, sir. Anything more?”

“That will be all.”

Even as he hung up the telephone
something told Volkov that it would not be all, that there was much more that
would come of this. What he contemplated now was very risky, and as he looked at
the map lit by the wan light of his desk lamp he began to consider how best to
make this approach.

I cannot send them due east. The
Alexandra
is already well north, so I will send
Oskemen
to rendezvous here, at
Tobolsk, but it must not overfly Omsk along the way. These are good, fast
airships, and well gunned. Will two battalions be sufficient? Anything more
might cause a major incident, particularly if Karpov stays at Ilanskiy for any
length of time. So I will send these two ships northeast across the Ob River
all the way to the Yenisey River. They can follow that south and then skirt
over to Ilanskiy from the north. The area is a complete wilderness. If they
stay above the cloud deck there is every chance for them to arrive undetected.

Yet this is risky. It could upset
everything I have just negotiated with Karpov. It will definitely upset Karpov
himself. He smiled. Too bad in that case. Perhaps I should have killed him the
minute I realized who he really was. Curiosity stayed my hand. I need to know more
about why he is here, and about that damn ship he was on. There are just too
many unanswered questions. He was wearing a service jacket. Why did he not use
it to contact his ship? There is more to this story than I know now, and if
Kymchek cannot find out what is happening at Ilanskiy, I want a detachment
ready to see firsthand.

This
must be done carefully. I must plan it well.

* * *

Orlov
was standing on the Gondola bridge of the
Narva
, watching the long
ragged coastline off the starboard side viewports, amazed by the vastness of
his homeland. He had never seen it quite like this, drifting a few thousand
feet up, slipping through the mist and clouds and then breaking into the clear
to see the sunlight dappling the Barents Sea. He had always enjoyed flying, his
face at the window seat of any flight he ever booked. The vastness of the sky
and the landscape below him were an altogether different experience from that
aboard the ship. He felt airy light, like the zeppelin that bore him, with a
sense of freedom that he had not felt since he took that fateful jump from the
KA-226 helicopter in the Mediterranean, so long ago as it seemed now.

He
had been very excited to learn his request to accompany the mission had been
approved by Admiral Volsky. Duties on the ship had fallen into that old tedious
routine for him again, checking ship’s rotations, assigning crews to
maintenance details, knocking a few heads together when the work was slack. He
missed the freedom he felt when he was at large in the world, this time, the
1940s, and with his head full of information that he knew he could use to
become as rich and powerful as any man alive.