Doppelganger (35 page)

“No response from any ship or submarine? You know as well as I do that a 272 coded message designates it as coming from this ship, the fleet flagship, and therefore from me,” said Volsky, “the current commander of that fleet. It demands a response, and yet we hear nothing, as if—”

“As if they were not there,” Karpov finished, “just like
Slava
and
Orel
.”

“You are suggesting that our enemies have destroyed every ship in the Red Banner Northern Fleet? Every submarine? Yet they overlooked us?”

“Those two ships out there may be here to finish the job,” said Karpov. “You and I both know what happens if they fire first. Our defenses are very good, but something might get through.”

“KA-226 is on approach,” said Nikolin. “I can hear their salutation, but there is still no response.”

“Mister Rodenko,” said Volsky. “I wish to know the moment you detect any targeting radars painting that helo.”

“I’ve been watching, Admiral, but nothing.”

“Rodenko,” said Fedorov quickly. “have a look down at 39.9MHz, then try 85MHz and finally 600Mhz. Look for 3.5 meter wavelengths.”

Rodenko gave Fedorov an odd look. “They shouldn’t be using that. British Sampson radar is in the S band, in the microwave spectrum, but I suppose there’s no harm in looking elsewhere.”

“Full of suggestions today,” said Karpov looking at his Navigator. “I did not know you were trained for radar, Fedorov. Kindly leave that job to Rodenko.”

Some tense moments passed, but soon Nikolin spoke up with an update. “I’m getting live video feed from the KA-226,” he said.

“Put it on the overhead,” said Volsky, and all eyes were now focused on that screen, a wide HD panel that could link with the ship’s Tin Man optical systems, and receive feeds from all the helicopters. The KA-226 was particularly suited to scouting and reconnaissance, with an array of very powerful cameras. Volsky squinted at the screen, seeing two ships there in the sea haze. It was difficult to make them out, particularly as they were steaming bow first, but the helo soon began to angle away at about 10,000 meters, swinging around to get a silhouette view.

The moment was coming, thought Fedorov, for he knew what they were most likely to see now. Yet how to convince the Admiral and Karpov that these were old WWII class vessels? He reached quickly for his silhouette book from the small library he kept at his station, waiting tensely. There they were, three stacks amidships, slightly inclined, and the center stack thicker than the others. The ships looked to be approaching 10,000 tons, and he knew exactly what he was looking at.

“Very odd,” said Volsky. “That certainly does not appear to be a Type-45 destroyer, and they look much too big to be Norwegian or Danish frigates. They are certainly not Type-23 Class British frigates either. Am I correct, Mister Fedorov? You said you could identify these ships. Any thoughts?”

It had to begin somewhere, thought Fedorov. Yes, the insanity had to begin. It was already started, and well underway, except he was the only one who knew that now. So his course was clear, his mission obvious. This ship and crew would eventually determine that what he was now about to say was the truth, as impossible as it might sound. So there was nothing else to do here but to speak that truth, as convincingly as possible.

“Sir,” he said, clearing his voice as Karpov frowned at him again. “This will not make any sense, but I believe those are a pair of
County
Class heavy cruisers, Royal Navy ships. See the three stacks amidships? That is very distinctive of this class. There were several variations, and that would be in the
Kent
subclass. This other ship would be in the
London
subclass, but it’s very similar. I have the silhouettes right here, Admiral.” He held up his book, all the world’s fighting ships, and he was reaching for his pad device where he also had several applications stored with digital imagery of many WWII vessels.

“
County
Class?” Volsky adjusted his hat. “I am not familiar with that class. Is it something new? These ships do not look like anything else in active service with the Royal Navy.”

“Not in our day, sir.” He let slip that first subtle hint, but did not lean on it too heavily.

“Let me see that,” said Karpov, huffing over, an irritated expression on his face. He squinted at Fedorov’s book, hovering over his station like a shadow, his finger running down the ship silhouettes as he shook his head. “This is useless,” he said. “This is old data, Fedorov.”

“Here, sir,” Fedorov pointed. “Now have a look at that video feed.”

“Karpov glanced up at the screen, then back at Fedorov’s book, still shaking his head. “Yes, there is a clear resemblance, but you are seeing a bear in the kitchen, Fedorov. What is this, one of your old WWII books? Don’t be foolish.”

“But sir, look at those gun turrets on the video!”

Karpov looked again, a sudden silence settling over the bridge. The guns… yes, those nice big twin 8-inch gun turrets up front, in a shape and configuration that had not been used in naval ship design for decades. They were sure to get attention, a commanding presence even in this video feed. The image zoomed as the KA-226 switched to high powered optics, and the image focused to a sharper resolution. There was no hull number, but an obvious wartime camo scheme was painted on the hulls.

“Those are 203mm gun turrets, two forward and another two aft. This is a County Class vessel. I am certain of this. There was no other ship built to this configuration.”

“But certainly very old, yes Fedorov?” Said Volsky. “When might these have been built?” the Admiral swiveled in his chair, listening to what Fedorov was saying now.

“They were laid down in the mid 1920s, sir. May I ask Nikolin to do something here? I think it can solve this mystery once and for all.”

“More bright ideas, Lieutenant?” said Karpov, his tone obviously irritated. “You want to be Captain, Mister Fedorov? Then complete your training back in Severomorsk. Otherwise, leave these matters to the senior officers.”

“Just a moment,” said the Admiral. He had heard that Fedorov was a very astute young officer, and his file looked very promising. In his time aboard the ship, he had always found him competent and level headed, and his studious nature and penchant for naval history made him very likable in his eyes. “Let the Lieutenant speak,” he said. “Fedorov, what do you suggest?”

Karpov looked furious, but Fedorov knew he could not allow himself to be cowed by that man’s anger now, nor that of Orlov, who was also looking at him with a very unfriendly expression on his face.

“Sir… Have Nikolin send this—in English please.
Geronimo, Geronimo, Geronimo.
Home Flag respond as per fleet signals protocol one. That’s a command level channel for Royal Navy operations,” he explained to Volsky.

“What is going on here, Fedorov?” Karpov began to raise his voice. “Fleet signals protocol one? You are working for the Royal Navy now? Sit down and mind your damn station! Admiral, I recommend we increase to alert level one and prepare for combat. I don’t care who or what they are. Either they respond to our hails or we must take stronger measures.”

Nikolin looked from Karpov to Volsky, and then back to Fedorov. The tension on the bridge was thickening, and he did not know what he should do. Thankfully, the Admiral spoke next, and his authority was final.

“Mister Nikolin, I will indulge our young Lieutenant, for no better reason than the unpleasant alternative the Captain now insists upon. Send that message. I do not know what this is all about, Mister Fedorov, but the ship will also come to alert level one, and Mister Samsonov, you will now activate the forward 100mm bow gun.”

“All hands,” said Orlov on the intercom. “The ship will come to alert level one and man all battle stations!”

The loose end of Time’s tangled thread had come full circle, but the knot that would now be tied would have everything to do with the fate of all days to come.

Part XI

Chaos Zone

“There are only patterns, patterns on top of patterns, patterns that affect other patterns. Patterns hidden by patterns. Patterns within patterns. If you watch close, history does nothing but repeat itself.
What we call chaos is just patterns we haven't recognized. What we call random is just patterns we can't decipher.”

- Chuck Palahniuk -
Survivor

Chapter 31

Azores, August 1, 1941

They
sat in the Admiral’s stateroom aboard HMS
Invincible
, anchored in the channel between the small islands of Pico and Faial. Less than four miles wide at its narrowest point, the channel served as a makeshift harbor there between the small fishing ports of Horta and Madalena. Seven other merchant ships were clustered to one side of the channel, “the funnies,” as the navy rats called them now. There also, was the sleek white hull of the
Argos Fire
, its tall mainmast and prominent Sampson radar dome marking its lineage as a former
Daring
Class destroyer.

The long stately lines of HMS
Hood
also graced the anchorage, where both Admiral Holland, and the ship where he still set his flag, were enjoying the sweetness of a life they both might have lost months ago in another telling of these events. They had come late to the engagement with the Germans fought some weeks ago, but now formed an important part of the standing watch the British Home Fleet had established here, along with the
Repulse,
and the fleet’s newest addition, the battleship
Duke of York
. Her twin sister ships,
King George V
and
Prince of Wales
were both in the Celtic Sea with the carriers
Ark Royal
and
Illustrious,
enough power to face down the German fleet should it attempt to sortie again, at least until Tovey could hasten northwest from the Azores with reinforcements.

Two other light AA cruisers rode at anchor in the channel, and beyond them there were numerous destroyers keeping a watchful eye, though the presence of HMS
Glorious
in the Azores was a powerful deterrent to German U-boat activity in the vicinity. Her aircraft patrolled ceaselessly, keeping watch for U-boats on the surface, and the destroyers prowled the waters off the islands to listen for any boat bold enough to try and creep up submerged.

Captain MacRae had assured Admiral Tovey that he had sonar that was more than capable of detecting any undersea threats long before they could pose a danger, but the Admiral chose to maintain his regular ASW patrols nonetheless.

“Well now, Miss Fairchild, gentlemen, welcome aboard.” Fairchild was there with MacRae and Mack Morgan, and a third man dressed out in a white naval coat and trousers of the American Navy, a Lieutenant Commander by rank.

“I have not had the pleasure of meeting you sir,” said Tovey, extending a handshake. “Didn’t know you fellows were out here. I’m to understand that you are serving as a fleet liaison officer?”

“Forgive me, Admiral,” said the man. “I was introduced to you as Lieutenant Commander Wellings, USN, but I must confess that identity, and this uniform along with it, was put on simply for purposes of security. I am Professor Paul Dorland of the Lawrence Berkeley Labs in the United States, and I have recently met with Miss Fairchild and company concerning events that played out in the recent fleet action with the Germans.”

Tovey gave him a puzzled look. He had been told by Fairchild to expect a most unusual visitor for a very important discussion, though he did not yet know the details.

“I’m told you were with Captain Dalrymple-Hamilton aboard the
Rodney
, God rest her soul.”

“I was, sir.”

“He speaks well of you—says you did everything possible to persuade him to take a course that might have avoided that unlucky engagement he fought. A pity I couldn’t get there in time with
Invincible
to help out. Speed can make all the difference at sea, and I’m afraid that was not a strong suit for
Rodney
, or things might have turned out differently. But tell me, Professor, just what is it you do in this laboratory of yours, and why do I find you here, insisting on this meeting with these good people.” He gestured to the Fairchild camp, where they sat at the opposite end of the conference table.

“It concerns several matters you will be familiar with,” said Dorland. “The first is
Rodney
and the cargo it was secretly carrying in its hold, now unfortunately lost, at least for the moment. The second is the fate and whereabouts of another ship, the battlecruiser
Kirov
. As for my business in that laboratory, it would take some time to explain it. Suffice it to say that the facility could not be found if you were to travel to America at this moment—for it simply does not exist in 1941. Like your Russian allies, and Miss Fairchild and company, I have come here from the year 2021.”

“I see…” Tovey did not quite know what to make of that, though his experience with the Russians, and the Fairchild group had taken the sting and shock out of such a statement, and made the impossible real to him in more ways than one. There was
Argos Fire
, and seven other ships from 2021, their decks crewed by interlopers from that same future time. And in the deserts of North Africa, a brigade of extraordinary fighting men and machines still stood to arms for Britain, their very presence neutralizing the whole of General Rommel’s formidable Afrika Korps, and assuring the safety of the vital British bastions in Egypt.

 “Quite a party you people are throwing here,” he said. “Will there be any more unexpected guests? And how you manage to come and go as you please I may never understand, but we’ll leave that off for the moment. What is it you have come to discuss?”