Doppelganger (6 page)

So in these first two options, the chess game example holds true—only one piece can occupy a given square, and it would be left up to fate and time to decide which would prevail.

Then there was yet one more possible outcome—
both
ships could arrive on July 28, 1941, one from the future and also the one he was on now, arriving from an earlier moment in time, arriving from the past. He had first thought this co-location would be impossible, and become the root of the Paradox, but if his thinking about spacetime was correct, then this was now a real possibility. They could
both
be in the same time, as long as they did not occupy the same space, and he knew that could never happen.

For this to be so, it would mean that the ships were
different
, not the same at all—that they had originated in different worlds. Is this the way it worked? He knew the ship slated to arrive from the future could not be coming as a result of the history extending forward from this moment. It had to be coming from some other time line—some other meridian in the continuum. In fact, it had to be coming from the same exact world they left when they first raised anchor at Severomorsk. No other time line, assuming multiple lines were possible, could result in the unique set of circumstances that sent the ship back through time. And here is the riveting truth—I’m standing on that ship. This is the
Kirov
that came from that meridian in time. So if another ship does arrive here from the future, then it must be coming from some other meridian,
not the world we left at Severomorsk
.

That thought shook him, for it depended on there being many alternate universes, which was something he could never prove or know for certain. Could such an alternate world produce the same exact event that first sent the ship back in time—the live fire exercises, the accident aboard Orel, Rod-25, all of it? The odds on that seemed impossibly small, but assuming it did so, would the ship come here, to this alternate time line? Why? Is there really a world for every possible circumstance and replaying of these events?

He shook his head. Trapped in the loop of his own thinking. Yet he realized that one of those three outcomes must happen.
Kirov
will either be prevented from arriving here because of the changes we have made to the history, or, if it does arrive here, then it comes from some other world, and not the world in which we now sail. Assuming that, it will either replace us and rule unchallenged in these waters, or else
both
ships will survive.

Kamenski had tried to tell him something else about this…
Kirov
was not a thing, not an object, but a process, an activity, a verb. “
Yes, my friend, everything in the universe is like that. Everything is a verb. There are no nouns, if you really think about it. That is just a pleasant and useful convention. Everything is a process.
”

 We are just an activity—we are just something the universe is doing, thought Fedorov, and now he remembered Kamenski’s incredible discourse on that topic.

“Time is not what you think it is
…
There are no ‘moments,’ only a constant expression of motion…. Old Zeno tried to prove motion was an illusion, that life was like a series of frames in a movie—or a series of positions in a chess game, but he actually had it backwards. This notion of fixed moments in time—that is the illusion, a mere convention of thought… 1941? 2021? These are not places, Fedorov, they are activities, movement in a dance. To go to one or the other you simply have to change your behavior—step lively, and learn the dance of infinity. You see, anything can be expressed in that dance…”

Anything… If Kamenski is correct, then I am just a maelstrom of particles, in this very peculiar shape called Fedorov. I’m just something the universe is doing, just as a whirlpool is something the river is doing, an activity, a temporary arrangement of particles that seem to persist, though we know it is impermanent. And none of those particles can ever be said to be in any particular place. This was what quantum theory asserted, Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle. The particles were always in motion, never in any one “place” and always retaining the possibility of being somewhere else. It was just as Kamenski had argued…
“To put it simply, things don’t stay put… there is only constant change and motion—constant uncertainty. And if they are never here, then they are never anywhere else either.”

If another ship does arrive, it will be another arrangement of particles, will it not? The two ships will not be the same. In fact, it would be impossible for them to ever be the same, to have every unique particle of their being doing the exact same thing on both ships, acting out the exact same steps in the dance Kamenski had talked about.

Damn…
this ship had combat damage, missiles expended from our magazines, men missing, and all the souls here forever changed by what we have experienced, what we have endured. But
that
ship would be fresh from the docks at Severomorsk, its magazine full, undamaged in any way, and with a full crew of innocent souls who had no idea of what they were about to face.

They aren’t the same
…. It may appear so, but on a quantum level the two ships would be distinctly different, two whirlpools in the stream, two expressions the world might simply call
Kirov
, but they would be completely different, like identical twins—doppelgangers. And considering they would not even be occupying the same spacetime event, being in two completely different locations… Was it possible that both could exist at the same time? And if this is true…

There is no Paradox!

That thought struck like the bell of hope ringing in his weary mind, yet one question still remained unanswered. If this were true, then what was happening to us now? Something told him his hope might be standing on shaky ground, and in this instance, his deep unconscious objection to his tortured logic was quite correct. For all of his assumptions and suppositions were simply wrong…

Chapter 5

The
time for speculation and pondering the physics was over. The grey fog that still surrounded the ship persisted like a funeral shroud, and Fedorov knew they had to do something.

“I have never seen sea conditions like this,” said Volsky. “The ocean is still and calm, and this sea fog is impenetrable.”

“For the cloud deck to extend up so high is most unusual,” Fedorov agreed. “Every compass on the ship is spinning like a top, which is probably an effect from that uncontrolled shift. But the weather?”

“How long before it will break?”

“Hard to say, Admiral. Advection fog like this usually forms when a warmer air mass migrates above the colder sea surface air. Yet for this to extend up so high that the KA-40 could not find clear air is unheard of. It’s usually confined to the boundary layer of the warmer air mass, and just manifests as surface fog.”

“And we have no wind,” said Volsky. “So here we sit, stuck in the doldrums.”

“True sir, but I am beginning to suspect that this is not advection fog. It seems… almost unnatural.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well it’s clear we shifted, as we’ve lost all contact with the British and Gromyko. So something happened to disturb the ship’s position in time. Who knows why? The ship was beginning to exhibit signs of instability, just like that time in the Pacific after the last air strike we faced. Remember? We turned north, well ahead of the cruiser
Tone
, but then it just appeared because I think we were pulsing, phasing, moving in and out of the time we were in. That allowed
Tone
to close the distance, because it was moving in space when we phased.”

“Then no time passed for us when that happened?”

“The evidence seems to support that.
Tone
should not have been able to catch up with us that quickly, so when we phased, we must have been in a kind of suspended time. And yet, I never lost the sensation that we were in the sea the whole time. We don’t know where we go when this happens, but we are clearly somewhere, because the ship remains stable and afloat on the sea, just as it is now.”

“You mean you believe we are in one of these phasing states now?”

“I can think of no other explanation for this heavy fog. It simply cannot manifest all of a sudden like it did, nor could it expend up beyond the ceiling of the KA-40. You are correct Admiral, these sea conditions are nigh on to impossible. It is unnatural.”

That gave Volsky a chill as he looked about them, the grey fog so close on the ship that the bow was barely visible through the forward view screens.

“So we are somewhere,” he said. “Elsewhere, a kind of purgatory where we sit in judgment at time’s court. Is that what has happened?”

“That is a colorful way of thinking about it sir, but you may be correct. Then again, all these effects we’ve been experiencing may simply be the result of our approach to Paradox. To be equally colorful, it looms like a vast hidden ice berg out there in that fog somewhere, and there we were, sailing blindly along as the days ticked off and we came ever closer. Something was bound to happen sooner or later, and it did.”

“Sooner,” said Volsky. “It was only May when we disappeared this time. Why is that, Fedorov?”

“I don’t really know, but it happened. Perhaps the event we were facing was so critical, that it created effects that undulate out through time. We arrived here from the future, like a stone falling in a still pool, and we clearly disturbed the waters here, sending ripples out in all directions. We know those ripples affect the future from the point we entered here in July of 1941. Might they also affect the past? If this is so, then the effects we’ve been experiencing, Lenkov, men missing, the physical changes to the ship itself, might all be the result of these waves in time we created ourselves with that first arrival.”

In this Fedorov was quite correct, and Volsky nodded as if he could sense this. “I understand,” he said. “At least I follow your metaphor. Then we may be riding one of these waves now. But what about Admiral Tovey and his ship? Is he lost in a grey fog as well?”

“Who can say, sir, but I would think not.
Invincible
was native to the time we were in. it belonged there, even though it was the result of profound changes we caused to the time line. There were no odd reports coming from Tovey; no men went missing there.”

“I see… Then we are affected more because we do
not
belong here. Yes?”

“This is what I am thinking.”

“These waves, Fedorov, will they get worse?”

“The effects do seem to be progressively worsening, sir. It started with Tasarov and Dobrynin reporting that strange sound. Then we lost Lenkov. After that…”

“Men started to go missing,” said Volsky grimly. “And I cannot believe I stood here on this bridge and could not remember Tasarov.”

“Nor I, sir, until Nikolin jogged my memory. And now we have hit a wave that has had a broad physical effect on the entire ship and crew. We have phased completely, moved again, though we do not know where we are, or even
when
we are.”

“Will we ride this wave, Fedorov? Will we re-appear in May of 1941 again until the next wave hits us?”

“I’m not certain. We might, but if these effects continue to worsen, the next wave…”

Volsky took a deep breath. “Well I do not think we can sail about like this for weeks waiting for a look at the stars. We may never see them unless we do re-emerge in that time we were in. Who knows, we might have been swept out into the seas of oblivion for good this time. We might never return to the place and time we were. That is good luck for the Germans, and bad luck for Admiral Tovey. From his perspective we must have simply vanished, and we’ve left him there alone to face the
Hindenburg
and all the rest. I was going to destroy the entire German surface fleet, Fedorov. We had the missile power left to do so. And then there was Gromyko. Whatever we failed to sink would remain easy pickings for him. The Kriegsmarine was on its last fatal sortie, or so I saw it when I decided to engage. It was not an easy decision—never easy to kill, particularly other sailors. Yes, we made them our enemies, but we are kinsman of sorts with them. The ocean we sail on, the depths below, are all our graves in waiting. Every sailor who ever set sail knows that, fears it. The sea holds them up, sustains them, yet it also waits for them, as the sharks wait, to devour their souls.”

“Time is that way, sir. We’re all sailing on the seas of time, from the cradle to the grave.”

“Yes? Well we have started to founder, Fedorov. It is now clear to me that we are taking on water from that sea, and this ship is sinking. So what would we do if that were the case in the ocean? We counter flood to correct a list. Damage control, yes Fedorov?”

“What are you thinking, sir?”

“We must do something. We cannot just wallow here until that next wave hits. We have the power to act, and we must do something. Is that second control rod ready?”

“Aye sir. The engineers have it mounted.”

“I can tell by that face that you hesitate to use it, Mister Fedorov.”

“There is always some risk, Admiral. Look what happened to us last time—we shifted in spacetime, not simply time. It was as if we were held in suspension while the earth rotated, and then dropped into the Atlantic. If that had gone on a little longer, we might have plopped down in Canada! Then there is one other problem—we could sustain additional structural damage. The ship has had difficulty phasing. When we displace in time, we must manifest somewhere else, and re-sync with that timeframe. We’ve seen clear evidence that the ship is not manifesting in a stable manner on these later shifts. We’ve been discussing all that just now, but it is only speculation. Running from the problem before we know what really happened is somewhat daunting.”

“What other choice do we have now, Fedorov? We either run this procedure and take our chances, or we sit here for days on end, wondering where we are, waiting for the next impossible thing to happen.”