Paradox Hour (12 page)

“If this is so, Director, who is behind it all? Could these changes have been initiated by the same people who made the keys?”

“That would be a sound conclusion,” said Kamenski. “In fact, the keys, and the time rifts they expose, may have been the means of initiating these changes.”

That struck Fedorov a hard blow. Someone has been tampering with the history…. And not just by blundering about in a warship. Someone has been deliberately changing things. But who? Was it the sender of those signals from the future?

 “Well, Miss Fairchild revealed something else, sir.” Now he told the Director about those voices from the future, and how they had suddenly gone silent. He used the very word Fairchild had given him—Grand Finality—calamity.

Kamenski listened quietly, thoughtfully smoking his pipe. “Very dramatic,” he said. “I think I will need to have a nice quiet talk with this Fairchild lady. She calls herself the keeper of the keys? Well, I think she will be quite surprised to learn I’ve had this one in my pocket for decades.”

“Sir,” said Fedorov, a question hot in the wake of the Director’s statement. “Miss Fairchild told me that the keys are all connected with one of these known time rifts, is that true of yours?”

“An obvious question. Keys are supposed to open something. Yes? Well, you say these keys all have numbers machined into the shaft. That may be so, except for this key.” He dangled it again at the end of a chain.”

“Are you certain, sir?”

“Oh yes, quite certain. I’ve had it examined very closely, even with an electron microscope. The shaft is completely smooth—absolutely unblemished.”

“I see…” That set Fedorov back a moment, an unaccountable wrinkle in this mystery that was already folded inward on itself so deeply that it seemed he might never get it sorted out. “I wonder why, sir. If all the other keys are associated with rifts, then why not this one?”

Kamenski smiled. “Because Miss Fairchild is mistaken, Mister Fedorov. In spite of what she chooses to call herself, she does not hold the master key. Nor is she the keeper of these keys as she might believe, because I am. I believe the master key is here, right in the palm of my hand!”

Part IV

Turnabout

“Turnabout is fair play.”

―
Ravi Gomatam

Chapter 10

The
first of the
Swordfish
came lumbering in towards
Kaiser Wilhelm
, low and slow. 823 Squadron was not supposed to be flying that day. After the loss of
Glorious
in Fedorov’s history, it was disbanded at RAF Watson, and not reformed until November of 1941. But that had never happened. Now Lieutenant Commander Elles was leading out the first subflight of four planes, with eight more racing to get airborne as
Glorious
ran south. Falkson, Jacobsen and McNamara were up with him, and they would be quick to the target looming on the horizon.

Expecting the attack, and actually seeing the planes taking off, the German AA gunners were ready. They soon began filling the skies with the dark puffs of their flak guns, knowing each plane out there had a torpedo on its belly that could wreak havoc if it found their ship. Of this first subflight, only three planes would get close enough to launch, with McNamara going into the sea after being hit by a 3.7cm round.

On the bridge of
Kaiser Wilhelm
, Captain Heinrich saw them coming. Two were going to be wide off the mark, but the third required him to come fifteen points to starboard, and fall off briefly to 30 knots, the ship turning just in time to avoid the lance. This is what we’ll be doing until sunset if I don’t get at that carrier, he thought. It would be dangerous work, but if the bear wants the honey, he must risk getting stung by the bees. Heinrich wanted that honey, for the sinking of a carrier would be a prize to rival any other obtained by the Kriegsmarine to date in the war.

Ede, Purdy, Vickery and Williams were next on deck, rumbling forward through the diminishing smoke on the bow, as the damage control teams slowly put out the fires. This time the German flak was even better aimed, as they had adjusted to the slower moving targets. Purdy would not get a chance to launch his torpedo, and Ede’s plane was riddled with shrapnel, his left arm nicked with the near miss explosion, and bleeding. He requested permission to jettison his torpedo and fly for home, but Lieutenant Commander Elles was still up in his plane, circling and spotting, and he would hear nothing of that.

“Get your fish in the sea alright,” he said on the radio. “But be bloody well sure you aim it at the Germans! Otherwise none of us may get home.”

It was a point well made, and Ede relied on his good arm to make do, pulling his
Swordfish
around again and coming in very low. The German gunners were on to him again, soon pocking up the sky, with some rounds hitting the wave tops as Ede came in. He got lined up, pulled right a bit to lead his target, and let loose. Yet the British pilots were making a mistake. They were accustomed to judging the speed of a large ship like this at no more than 28 knots. Most of their target practice runs had been on ships steaming at even slower speeds. They were not leading the target enough for
Kaiser’s
speedy 36 knots, and both Ede and Vickery saw the ship slip by, leaving their torpedoes in its wake.

Williams saw what was happening and changed the angle of his attack at the last minute, and he would force Captain Heinrich to dance again, this time with a turn hard to port to literally run ahead of the oncoming torpedo, which had no more than a four knot speed advantage on
Kaiser
. Williams saw the ship turn to run parallel to his torpedo, nearly as fast, and the British would be frustrated again.

Yet all these maneuvers did one key thing, they bought valuable time for Captain Wells aboard
Glorious
, still running south at his best speed behind as much smoke as his destroyers could give him.
Sheffield
was maneuvering to join him, and
Coventry
was still providing close support in case any more German
Stukas
showed up. The German pilots were now very close, but this time they were ME-109Ts.

* * *

Marco
Ritter was smiling when he saw the second flight of
Swordfish
fluttering well below him like cumbersome moths. He wanted to get down there immediately, but first things first. There were four
Fulmar
fighters up on top cover, and he needed to deal with them. He was high enough to challenge them, but tipped his nose up to get more elevation as he signaled Heilich and Ehuler to follow him.

“Only four this time,” he said. “They are making it too easy!”

His Messerschmitt climbed steadily, a faster and more maneuverable plane then the British Fighter. It was well armed with two 20mm canons on the wings and a pair of 7.92mm MG-17 machineguns on the fuselage above the engine. Ritter was quick to get on the tail of the first
Fulmar
, and had it ready for his 20mm cannons. He pulled the trigger and got off a short burst, but then something unexpected happened, a result of the feverish turnaround performed by the aircrews back on the
Goeben
. The ammo feeder jammed on his right cannon, causing his attack to fail. If that were not enough, the left cannon was not even reloaded! He pressed his trigger again, and realized his wing guns were dead.

The delay and distraction was just enough for his prey to wheel away, and try to swing up in a wide loop to come around and attack. The Fairy
Fulmar
had been built thinking its principle adversary might be twin engine bombers. As such, the design sacrificed traditional fighter assets like speed and maneuverability for longer range and better armament. Though the
Fulmar
was not as agile as the German plane, it now enjoyed a considerable advantage in firepower, with four 7.7mm Browning “303s” in each wing, or eight machineguns to the two remaining on the nose of Ritter’s Messerschmitt. There was also a rear cockpit gunner in the
Fulmar
with a Vickers K firing from the cabin, so winning the air dance and getting on an adversaries tail was no guarantee you would not be hit. In spite of its liabilities against other single seat fighters, the
Fulmar
would produce nine aces in Fedorov’s history books, and get 112 kills, more than any other F.A.A. fighter in the war.

It was going to come down to guts and flying skill now, and Marco Ritter had both in abundance. He was able to evade the attacking pass, breaking right as the dogfight was on. Heilich and Euhler were up after the other three fighters, leaving Ritter alone with this single plane. He had reasoned out that his best bet with this new British plane was to try and make his attack run above and perpendicular to the enemy plane, raking the fuselage and wings instead of trying his luck against that rear gunner, and holding on to the enemy’s tail while he was being fired upon.

Yet today Ritter was up against a fairly skilled pilot, a man who had come over to
Glorious
from the
Illustrious
, Lieutenant Commander Alfred ‘Jack’ Sewell. Known as “Jackie” to his mates, he had flown
Fulmars
in the Med, and had logged twelve kills thus far, seven against the Italian SM-79 tri-engine bomber, and the other five against seaplanes. He had yet to face a good fighter like the 109T, or a pilot like Ritter, but the two men put on quite a show in the skies above the naval chase, with Ritter using his speed and maneuverability to dodge the heavy firepower of those eight Browning 303s, while trying to get into position to put his two machineguns to good use.

The duel resulted in a draw, with Ritter’s wing nipped by the flashing rounds of the other planes fire on one occasion, and the
Fulmar
taking a bite that nearly hit the rear gunner on the fuselage. But Ritter was soon out of ammunition, sorely missing the hard hitting 20mm wing cannons now.

Damn, he thought, I’ve no more teeth. It’s all wings and tail for me now. All I can do is wheel about this fellow and hope to scare him off. So that is what I’ll have to do, stay in the fight until I can see what Heilich and Euhler can do. One enemy plane was already down, making the odds three to three now, and Ritter came around in a wide turn before pulling a maneuver on his pursuer that surprised the other pilot. He swung up and over, finding himself in a perfect position to fire, and could only curse as he squeezed his guns to no avail. That would have been a kill, he knew. Then the duel became a game for him, to see how many times he could get what he knew would be a sure kill on his adversary, and he counted three before Euhler came flashing down from above and rattled off a quick burst.

“What’s the matter Marco?” came a voice in Ritter’s ear. “Why don’t you shoot?”

“Nothing left!” said Ritter in return, and he knew that he should stop this nonsense now and get back to the
Goeben
to chew on the necks of the air crews.

The British lost two
Fulmars
in the engagement, and the other two were driven off, one with damage, though Jackie Sewell had managed to come away unscathed. In a better plane, he might have given Ritter a run for his money, but for now, with two mates down and a third in trouble, discretion was the better part of valor. He kept looking for enemy
Stukas
, saw none, and decided to vanish into a cloud to see if he could evade the German fighters and stay aloft to lend a hand if the dive bombers appeared.

* * *

Back
on the
Kaiser
, Kapitan Heinrich watched the air duel with a smile, knowing he was out of the woods now. At the same time, the fighter cover advantage he now had, meant that he was pressing the line by persisting here in his chase. His main battery had been silent for some time, with the gun directors unable to pick out the target through the heavy smoke. All these engagements, beginning with the pluck and determination of Colin Maud on the
Icarus
, and right on through to those
Swordfish
crews, had cost him precious time. His many maneuvers in dodging torpedoes had enabled the British to slip over the horizon again, and now he knew that he was only going to close that range at a speed advantage of five or six knots. It might take him an hour to shave 10,000 meters off that range, and he was still clearly in defiance of a direct order by the fleet Admiral to break off this engagement.

He sighed, giving his Chief Gunnery officer Schirmer, a wan look. “We’re going to have to turn on 300,” he said.

“But we have them, Kapitan. Another twenty or thirty minutes and we’ll be back in good range.”

“Yes? Well I have orders. Look at that smoke, Schirmer. Another twenty minute run will get us closer, but you still might not be able to see anything. In the meantime, the British will still try to launch everything they have left at us, and I will have a good deal to explain to Admiral Lütjens if I stay on this heading. So it can’t be helped.”

He turned to a signalman. “Inform Admiral Lütjens we are back on our designated heading, and have the navigator estimate our arrival time. Helm, come about to three-zero-zero at once. Maintain speed. A cruiser and a destroyer are not bad pickings for our first engagement. As for the carrier, perhaps another time.” There would be no honey for the bear this day.

But there would be a sting…

Even as
Kaiser
turned, the alarm was raised again when another British plane was reported approaching off the port bow, a lone
Swordfish
that had been lost in the smoke of the battle, and not seen until it emerged from a low cloud. The gunners were quick to react, re-training to engage this new target, and Heinrich watched coolly as the skies began to blossom with dark fire.