Kirov Saga: Armageddon (Kirov Series) (14 page)

“Because we cannot co-locate, sir. We can’t appear the morning of
the 19th because we are already there on the
Anatoly Alexandrov
in the
Caspian Sea. My guess is that the earliest we might appear would be July 20th.
Karpov said he was in the Sea of Japan, but we are not able to see anything in
the history while we remain here in 2021. I suppose once we actually leave, and
assuming we get back to our target date and do something decisive, then it will
manifest here as history shortly after our disappearance.”

Volsky shook his head, somewhat bewildered. “This business is
becoming an arcane science, Mister Fedorov.”

“In some ways it is, sir. This is theory developed by physicist
Paul Dorland, who is presently engaged in a research project involving quantum
particle infusion and artificial black holes at Lawrence Berkeley labs in
America. His theory draws on the work of others as well, but it posits a Heisenberg
Wave that is generated by any decisive intervention in the past, which then
migrates forward through the continuum of potential futures from that point in
time, like ripples from a stone thrown into a still pool. The wave works a
transformation, literally re-arranging every particle of the universe as it
propagates forward in time. Paradox eliminates anything that cannot be
rationally accounted for in the altered reality. Things literally change, and
the world is made entirely new. That’s one explanation. Another holds that the
intervention actually changes the course of the continuum and it enters an
alternate universe. It’s all theory, of course, but we have seen it happen more
than once already. We have seen it made real, no matter what the process actually
is.”

“So we can’t know exactly where Karpov and his ship is until we
get there,” said Kamenski.

“That’s about the size of it, and so my recommendation would be to
shift now. That would give us time to make a search of the Sea of Japan in 1908,
sweeping south as we go.”

“But won’t that also give Tasarov the opportunity to detect us?
The undersea world there would be completely empty. His ears are very good.”

“They are, sir, but it’s a risk that becomes academic if we intend
to make contact with Karpov and see if he will comply with a direct order.”

“Yes…I suppose the instant we make contact the jig is up.”

“Not necessarily…”

They all recognized Orlov’s deep voice, and turned to hear him
out. The Chief removed his hat, scratching his head. “You called him via
shortwave before. Why not do that again? How will he know we are on a
submarine?”

“Don’t forget Nikolin,” said Fedorov. “First off, we would be too
close.
Kirov
would be in the shortwave dead zone and we would have to
use normal radio bands. The only reason
Kirov
heard us from the Caspian
was because the shortwave signal was reflected from the ionosphere. So if we
contact him here, Nikolin will immediately know we are very close. He will be
able to isolate the signal band in a few seconds.”

“But we could tell him we came east on the Mi-26,” said Dobrynin.
“Might that account for the differing radio signal?”

“Perhaps at first blush,” said Fedorov, “but Nikolin will soon determine
our location. He’s just too good, even as Tasarov is at sonar.”

“That’s part of what made the ship so deadly in combat,” said
Volsky. “Each man was a real expert at his post. Rodenko at radar, Tasarov at sonar,
Nikolin at communications, Samsonov at CIC, not to mention my ex-navigator
here. Now he tries to plot this course through time.”

“We don’t have to say we are on
Kazan
,” said Orlov. “If we
broadcast on a line back to Vladivostok, he could assume we are there.”

“A good point, Chief. In fact, he might assume we used the test
reactor at the Primorskiy Engineering Center and shifted back that way. That
uncertainty could be enhanced if we just state that is the case, and then the
Admiral can take over and see what he can do.”

“That is worth a try,” said Volsky. “And the alternative?”

Orlov spoke again. “Sail south now, appear right on Karpov’s ass
and put a torpedo into him before he can think twice.”

The simple brutality of the suggestion seemed cold and stark in
the room, but that was what the surprise option left them with. It meant they
might not have to risk battle with
Kirov
, but they would have to appear
like an assassin in the dark and stab the ship in the back. They would have to
be everything Karpov feared and loathed about submarines, and somehow the notion
seemed distasteful to them all.

“Yes, we could appear suddenly like that,” said Volsky, “but we
would still not know where
Kirov
was when we arrived. Our equipment
could be bothered by the effects of the shift as it was on
Kirov
, and
they would have the advantage. It could be they would detect us before we could
get things in order here. That is one concern with plan B. The second is that I
do not like the idea of torpedoing
Kirov
without first trying to
persuade the Captain to relent. And from the looks on all your faces I think
there is broad agreement on this. What do you think, Gromyko? After all, this
is your boat at risk here.”

“Not my boat, Admiral. It’s just on loan to me at the moment. If
you must know, a submarine’s stock in trade at war is stealth and surprise. In
modern warfare you aim to detect and fire on the enemy before they can do the
same to you. A submarine excels at that because of its inherent stealthiness.
So while you may all feel uncomfortable sneaking up behind our flagship like
this, Chief Orlov is correct. That is how I would fight this boat if asked to
take military action against
Kirov
. Speed, stealth, surprise, and a good
spread of at least four torpedoes.”

“There is one other consideration,” said Fedorov. “Karpov’s
temperament. He has a phobia concerning submarines, and the sudden appearance
of an undersea threat has often seen him take extreme measures. In fact,
whenever he is truly surprised in battle, either by the skill of the enemy or
by the failure of his own tactical approach, he resorts to a sudden, extreme
escalation of force. He selects the one weapon which can redress the situation
and applies it with absolute, ruthless violence.”

“Yes,” said Orlov. “That’s Karpov alright. I tell you what… Get
close and then send me over in a frogman suit. I’ll put this fat fist in the
Captain’s face and another fat torpedo right up his ass.”

They all laughed at that, but things settled down quickly to the
difficulty of the decision before them now. “Well,” said Volsky, “as much as it
may be sound submarine tactics, it is against my better judgment to strike as
you suggest. Unless the majority here believe otherwise, I think we should do
what Mister Fedorov advises. Shift now, while we are here in safe waters. We
can drift over towards the Korean coast until we see what happens. Then head
south if we reach the targeted time.”

“How will we know if we shift successfully?” Dobrynin raised
another good point. “How will we know it isn’t 1945, or 1942 again? Rod-25 has
been very stubborn about that year.”

“First we rely on that inner ear of yours, Dobrynin,” said
Fedorov. “After that we rely on signals intelligence first, and if we still
can’t ascertain our position in time, we could risk taking a look around by
sending a team ashore in Korea, or even Vladivostok. That said, it is my belief
that we will reach the target time successfully.”

“How can you be so certain,” said Dobrynin. “I’m not a miracle
worker, you know.”

“Because if we failed to do what we now propose…if we failed to
stop Karpov, then it
would
be history now, and we should have been able
to read about it. No…I think we will get there, because the absence of definite
information about what happened to Karpov indicates uncertainty prevails. We are
still a primary factor in the outcome.”

“Very astute, Mister Fedorov,” said Kamenski.

“Then that will be the order,” said Volsky, feeling much better
about the situation. “Any objections?”

No man had any further argument. They had made the gentleman’s agreement.
They would contact Karpov and order him to stand down. If he refused it would
be pistols at fifty paces,
Kazan
against
Kirov
. Yet like all
plans, things can happen that set events off in a most unexpected course…And
they did.

*
* *

Dobrynin
was still very uneasy as he settled into his chair at the reactor
monitoring station, in spite of Fedorov’s confidence. The equipment here was
somewhat different, even if it was still compatible with Rod-25, and he was
wondering how this would affect the planned operation. He had spent the last
several hours going over detailed charts and data from the two time
displacement shifts aboard
Anatoly Alexandrov
. He was noting power
levels, output, neutron flux levels, and then topped it all off by simply
listening to his tape of the shifts that sent them back to 1908. He was like a
conductor being introduced to a new orchestra. The score was in his head, in
the delicate weave of sounds he could hear in the internal song of his mind,
but the musicians were all new here. Would the sound remain the same?

He would try to repeat that score, yet he knew each player was now
subtly different. Each of the control rods on this new reactor had a life span,
some old, some young, some ready to be retired. Each would be a player in the
music to come, and he wondered if he would be able to still hear the melody
required for a successful shift. If he could not, then their whole effort was
futile here. They might shift somewhere, but with no guarantee that they would
not end up in a year and time that was most undesirable, no matter what Fedorov
thought.

He was understandably very nervous about it all, as everything
seemed to depend on him now. They could devise their plans, and talk and
conjecture, but the real work was his to do, and if he could not get it done,
then what?

He closed his eyes, trying to listen to this new reactor to
determine its aural characteristics. At one point he had his technicians
increase the power output slightly, and then dial it back again. In the same
manner he lowered the power slightly, then increased it to normal again,
listening to the orchestra play. There was something in the sound that seemed
strangely odd, a resonance in the background that he found most disconcerting.
He decided to record the sound to see if he could determine what it was, and
the longer he sat with it, the more concerned he became. An hour later he went
to see Admiral Volsky about it, finding him with Fedorov in the officer’s
lounge.

“Admiral,” he began, “I must report an anomaly.”

“Come in, Chief Dobrynin. What is it? I hope there isn’t a problem
with the control rod installation.”

“No sir, that went quite well, but I have been listening to things
to get familiar with this new equipment and…well there is something in the
background causing interference.”

“Interference? What kind of interference?”

“I’ve tried to isolate the sound, sir. Of course I first believed
it was coming from the reactor equipment itself, but this proved not to be the
case. So I moved around the boat a bit, and I listened, thinking it might be
something on the submarine.”

“And what did you discover?”

“Nothing…that’s the bad news, Admiral. It’s not coming from the
boat either. This prompted me to check with Lieutenant Chernov.”

“I’m sorry, Chief. Who is Chernov?”

“He’s the sonar man here on
Kazan
, sir. I reasoned a man
like this will also have good ears, and so I asked him to listen to my
recording and see if he could hear what I was experiencing.”

“Did he hear anything?” asked Fedorov.

“More than we might wish to know about,” said Dobrynin. “It’s that
damn volcano, sir. It is continuing to spew thousands of tons of electrically-charged
ash into the eruption column. This charged ash can cause interference to radio
waves and even render radio and telephone systems inoperative. Chernov says he
has been having trouble with his sonar beyond the normal sonic effects. There
seems to be some persistent electromagnetic disturbance as well, and it is
affecting the undersea environment.”

“How is that possible,” said Fedorov, “an EMP pulse can’t even
affect us down here.”

“True, that’s why we must surface an antenna to use normal radio, otherwise
we must rely on the Extreme Low Frequency communications module and our ZEVS
broadcast from land. That uses a very low frequency, way down at 82 hertz.
Chernov says the boat’s communications man has heard this disturbance there as
well. Whatever it is, it has aural characteristics. He can hear it on sonar!”

“I see,” said Volsky. “Yes, we had the same problem with equipment
at Fokino, even in the deep underground bunker. We had to use a secondary land
line to contact Moscow. That Demon is still grumbling out there, but what does
this mean, Dobrynin?”

“It means I have real doubts about this operation now, sir. I
can’t hear the nuances of the system with this odd throbbing in the background,
and I also suspect that this interference might cause trouble if we attempt to
shift from this location.”

Fedorov produced a pad device and called up a map. “We are almost
1500 kilometers southwest of that volcano. I know it was a very large eruption,
but there was no ash fall at Vladivostok when we landed there.”

“It is getting closer,” said Volsky. “They tell me there is a
seasonal wind change that takes place in October here.”

Fedorov knew what the Admiral was referring to, being a navigator
and familiar with weather effects in the region. “Yes,” he said, “I should have
considered this. The Aleutian Lows start to form and we get what they call the
Winter Monsoon, northwest winds. They must be plowing into that eruption column
and driving it in our direction. It has covered all of Hokkaido Island, and also
parts of northern Honshu near the Tsugaru Straits. A plume that size can also
have dramatic weather effects.”

“And you can
hear
this interference, Dobrynin?”

“I hear a kind of general background resonance from the geothermic
and electromagnetic disturbances when I am listening to the reactor on
headphones. Not here, not now as we speak. I hear it when I listen to the data
in the reactor room. I’m worried, sir.”

“In what way?”

“Well… to do my job I have to listen to some very subtle sound
fields…sound caused by turbines, and steam moving through the system, the
coolant water, the servo-mechanical noise, and the sound of the reaction
itself. I’m not sure I can hear things well enough under these conditions. I’m
not sure I can control the displacement.”

Fedorov looked at him with a stubborn expression. “Are you
certain, Chief?”

“It was worse earlier, when we were northeast up the coast and
closer to the Kuriles. There I could hear the interference on a number of
system monitors. It is not as bad here, but I can still perceive it, and it has
the effect of someone playing music while you are trying to tune your
instrument. You cannot hear the subtle harmonics. I have tried to adjust by
accounting for the disturbance in the background, but at times we get a strong
emission, a real deep rumble that overshadows everything, and should that
happen in the midst of our shift, particularly when I am trying to make an
adjustment…well I don’t know what to expect.”

“What if we got further from the eruption, sir?” Fedorov suggested
the obvious. “There isn’t much sea room here, but we could still move southwest
towards Korea and see what conditions are like there. We could lie off
Yonhung-Man Bay near Wonson. That’s about as far west as we can get, and it
would put us nearly 2000 kilometers from the eruption.”

“Very well, I will speak with Captain Gromyko and see what we can
do. It would mean entering the Korean Eastern Sea Command region, and the North
Koreans are not the most reliable group these days. China thinks they can
control that snarling dog, but I have my doubts.”

“Those extra 500 kilometers might make the difference, sir,” said
Fedorov. “It’s worth a try.” That distance, and the time it would take them to
get there, were going to make a considerable difference indeed, but no one knew
it just then.

Chapter 11

Admiral Togo
received the news with some dismay. He was in the briefing room
aboard the fleet flagship, battleship
Mikasa
, and the signals had just
been decoded from Kamimura. As he stared at the characters on the scroll he had
just been handed, he could hardly believe what he was reading. All five
cruisers had been engaged and damaged badly enough that they were forced to
break off and seek shelter in the hidden bays of the Oki Island group. All but
one, the armored cruiser
Adzuma
, sustained damage sufficient to force
retirement to Maizuru and lengthy repairs. Yet this was not the real shock.

Kamimura had laid a skillful trap for the enemy. His cruisers had
sat quietly, their boilers suppressed enough to control smoke as the ships lay
hidden behind the islands. He had cleverly posted coastwatchers with good
telescopes on the highest hills of the islands, and they had seen the approach
of the Russian dreadnought and correctly lit their signal fires. Only then did
he order the boilers fully fired to get up enough steam to make the attack
speed required. Yet the instant they were seen the enemy opened fire from
extreme long range again, 18,000 meters! The cruisers were taking a pounding as
they tried to close, and none got much closer than 9,000 meters. They ran
broadside to the enemy at about that range for ten minutes, firing every gun
they had, but without much success.

By contrast, the Russian guns had found their targets with uncanny
accuracy. Almost every round fired was scoring a hit! This was remarkable in
that gunners relied on the tall water splashes from their near misses to adjust
fire to get those hits in a running gun battle like this. The Russians gunnery
was truly astounding! But the real blow had come later, after the cruisers were
forced to flee to the safety of a channel protected by Dozen Island.

Kamimura had one last card to play, his two battleships also lying
in wait there in the central bay at the heart of the three smaller islands.
They, too were able to successfully surprise the Russian ship when they charged
boldly into battle, and this time at least their larger guns were able to open
fire at a range of about 11,000 meters. But what he read next seemed
incomprehensible. The Russian ship had fired a weapon of terrible power and
speed, a kind of flying bombshell, a rocket of some type. Such weapons had been
used for centuries, since they were first discovered by the Chinese, but they
seemed mere toys compared to the much more accurate fire that could be obtained
from rifled cannons.

Yet these rockets were as accurate as the Russian guns! Two had
been fired, one striking each of his battleships, and the resulting damage was
catastrophic. Dragon Fire, that is what the survivors called the weapons. They
flew low over the sea, impossibly fast, then struck with thunderous impact,
penetrating side armor and gutting the ship with hideous incinerating flame.
Both
Tango
and
Mishima
, two ships captured from the Russians, had
been completely immolated and sunk. The entire well planned surprise attack had
become a naval disaster. The whole Russian Baltic fleet could not inflict that
much damage when we fought them at Tsushima, he thought with some amazement.
How was it possible that this single ship could so decisively defeat Kamimura’s
squadron?

Now the ship was heading south and might soon be approaching the
island of Mishima where Vice Admiral Dewa was posted with his 3rd Cruiser
Division and Commander Suzuki’s 4th Destroyer Division. There were not even
battleships in this force, and if Kamimura’s fate was any guide, it would
easily be destroyed, or brushed aside by this powerful new Russian dreadnought.
His plan had rested upon the assumption that each division he deployed would
have the ability to adequately engage and defeat this ship, but that was now
proved to be entirely wrong. With that thought in mind the Admiral quickly
called a staff adjutant to the conference room.

“Sir!” The man bowed politely as he entered, then saluted,
civility before military protocol.

“Send a signal to Vice Admiral Dewa. He is to immediately bring his
force south to lie off the straits west of Shimonoseki. If he requires fuel I
will have colliers waiting for him south of Oshima Island, but it is essential
he rejoin Vice Admiral Kataoka’s 5th Division as soon as possible.”

The man bowed again and rushed to the telegraph room to have the
order coded and transmitted. Togo turned his gaze to the map now, considering
the situation. The Maizuru squadron under Kamimura was one of the strongest in
the fleet! It had six armored cruisers and two battleships, and they were all
effectively out of the campaign now, with
Tango
and
Mishima
stricken from the fleet register forever.

It was clear to him that he would need to mass the greatest part
of all fleet divisions currently available in these waters. But where? The map
would tell the tale. Once Dewa moved south to Oshima and re-coaled his ships,
he would order both his division, and that of Kataoka, to a position northwest
of Iki Island. Yet after reading the results of Kamimura’s engagement, he
doubted if even these two divisions could successfully engage this new ship.

Dewa had only four armored cruisers and four destroyers under
Suzuki. This was meant to be a screening and reconnaissance force, but Togo now
believed the course the enemy would choose was inevitable. Kataoka had a much
stronger force with the battleship
Chinyen
, five armored cruisers, and four
fast destroyers. On paper it seemed more than adequate to seal off the eastern
segment of the Tsushima Straits between that island and Iki. This would allow
him to patrol the western segment of the straits with his own squadron…but it
would also allow the enemy to decide the location and time of the battle by
choosing which strait, which side of the Tsushima Island group they would use
to break through.

This was most unsatisfactory, and one look at the map provided him
with the only solution that seemed promising. The answer lay in speed and
surprise. He would have to send his faster torpedo boats and destroyers out as
pickets. All the destroyers had mines aboard, and upon sighting the enemy they
could deploy those mines and then flee to a pre-designated rendezvous point. If
the enemy pursued them, they would lead the unwary Russian Captain toward the
main fleet, and perhaps the Russians would even be unfortunate enough to hit
one of their mines.

Where to put the main fleet? Where to mass sufficient power
capable of smashing the enemy while also preventing him free passage of the
straits? The only place was just off the southern nose of Tsushima Island.
Strong eyes watching from Mount Ontake to the north of that island would look
for the approach of the enemy, just as Kamimura had been warned by his
coastwatchers.

 They must choose one side or the other, thought Togo. Mount
Ontake is seventy kilometers to the north. If they are spotted from there, that
distance gives us the time needed to muster forces at the southern end of the
island in the proper channel. Then, each group, my fleet and the squadrons
under Dewa and Kataoka, will be in position to join and mutually reinforce one
another. Black smoke from Ontake will mean the enemy has chosen the Korea
Strait, and white smoke will mean they have taken the eastern approach. The
whole fleet will be like a pendulum dangling from the tip of Tsushima Island,
and it may swing left or right to cover either approach.

 This was a good plan, he thought, but it had one flaw. It would
be best if the enemy moved down the eastern side of Tsushima. Iki Island forms
a strong outpost there, and we would be fighting close to our home ports. Those
waters could also be effectively mined to restrict and hamper enemy movement. Yet
if the Russians chose to go west of Tsushima, then what? That portion of the
straits is 60 kilometers wide, and if they were to skirt northwest near Korean
waters they might easily slip through, particularly if the rumors and reports
of this ship’s speed are true. They could avoid battle altogether, because a
fleet massed off the southern tip of Tsushima Island might never be able to get
northwest to find or stop them before they were through.

Suppose that happens, he thought? I must have a plan for that
contingency as well. Where would they be going if this Russian Captain
perceives this weak point and sets his course as I fear? The answer to that is
again right before me on the map. They have brazenly stated they would
quarantine the Yellow Sea, so they will certainly have to go there to make good
on that boast. This would take them on a course between Jeju Island and Korea,
yet those waters will not make for a good patrol zone. They are too wide! It is
500 kilometers from Korea to Shanghai, much too wide for a single ship to
patrol. Yes, they could stand off Shanghai and interdict all the commercial
traffic from that port, but the Chinese are not our friends, and they will not
be re-supplying the Japanese garrisons in Manchuria and Port Arthur.