Nemesis (3 page)

“The
Black Sea? That would mean you would have to pass the Bosporus and Dardanelles.
The Germans control that, or at least they think they do, though it is still
nominally under Turkish authority. How would you get through?”

“The
Germans control the Straits of Gibraltar, do they not? Yet that ship sailed
right on through. I can do the same and become a terror in the Black Sea that
will freeze Hitler’s blood. You have Novorossiysk now. Yes? You want to hold it?
I can make that happen. I can save Sevastopol and the Crimea, and your entire
Black Sea Fleet, which would be lost as soon as those ports fall. You would
have to surrender those ships, and all while listening to Ivan Volkov laughing
at you from Orenburg. Then he’ll come for Volgograd…”

“Damn
that man,” said Kirov, thinking. Yes, there was so much Karpov could do. His
armies could fight for me, and I’ll need every man he can send me. He says he
has the oil I’ll need, and how can I doubt it? It is clear that I won’t get
much from Maykop before the Germans get there. And yes, I’ll lose all of the
Crimea, and possibly the whole of the lower Volga as well. I may even lose this
war….

Yet the
warning whispered to him by Admiral Volsky when they met at Murmansk was still
in his mind. He had been discussing all of this with the Admiral and Fedorov…

“The
British are hanging on by their fingernails
,”
he had said to Volsky.
“If they go, then we are surely next. Then the whole
world comes under the shadow of Nazi Germany.”

Volsky
was clear and direct in his reply, and Kirov could see it in his eyes.
“That
cannot be permitted to happen. Mister General Secretary, this has been an hour
of many revelations. We sit here discussing the impossible fates we have both
suffered, and now this news of Karpov chills my blood if this is, indeed, the
man we lost. He is a man of great ambition, and could prove a grave danger.
Now, however, I think that Russia’s only chance at survival is in a speedy
alliance with Great Britain and the United States… but without their support,
and the supplies and equipment that flowed to us through this very port, we may
not have survived the onslaught Germany unleashed upon us. At this moment, all
is in play. These years are the most dangerous of the entire war. Unless you
get sound footing, the Germans could stampede all the way to Moscow, and now,
with this Orenburg Federation and Volkov at your back, you have no refuge in
the east as Stalin had when hard pressed.”

Yet
that is what Karpov now promises me, that refuge in the east. He would send me
men, oil, and also provide land and resources, a safe haven for the factories I
may soon have to move out of harm’s way. I’ve already lost Minsk and Kiev, and
all their industry. What to do here? I feel like the man with an angel on one
shoulder and the Devil on the other. Which one should I listen to?

Karpov
could see the hesitation in Kirov’s eyes, undoubtedly born
of the poison Volsky poured into his ear. He doesn’t really trust me, he knew,
but he also knows he’s in bed with Siberia, one way or the other. Yes. He knows
he must work with me, because I have one more thing, one more card to play
here, and now is the time.

“Very
well,” said Karpov. “Damn Volkov to hell. You have called me the Devil, Mister
General Secretary, but I may turn out to be an Archangel instead. Volkov,
however, has already proven his ilk. He’s a traitor, openly allied with the
real Devil on this earth now, Adolf Hitler, but that we can also change, and it
may only take a single machinegun squad to do so….” He smiled, seeing the
confusion on Kirov’s face.

“I
don’t understand.”

“Yes
you do,” said Karpov quickly. “Ilanskiy.”

It was
all he had to say, that one word, that one little hamlet in the middle of
nowhere, that lonesome little railway inn. Ilanskiy. It sat there, the wood of
that newly built stairway being smoothed and softened by the sandpaper of his
engineers even as they spoke. Ilanskiy, the key to the entire problem of
Orenburg, and the demise of Ivan Volkov with one simple excursion up those
stairs.

“Before
Volsky and Fedorov hatched that little plan to borrow an airship and try to
demolish that place,” Karpov began, “I took a little trip up those stairs
myself. In fact, I got home again, and I saw the misery our nation was again to
suffer at the hands of the Americans. Those weapons you are worried about? Well
they finally turned them on our homeland. I saw the fire and destruction with
my own eyes, just as you saw what Stalin would do when you went up those stairs
from 1908. You could not live with that, could you? And I cannot live with what
I saw either.”

“You
speak of the war in your time now?”

“Yes,
the war that is at the end of that long feud between Russia and the West. Oh,
the Chinese get in on the affair as well. In fact, that’s where it started—in
the Pacific, a squabble over oil rights beneath an insignificant speck of rock.
The Japanese wanted it on one side, backed by the Americans, and the Chinese
wanted it on the other side, backed by us. Push comes to shove, and the rockets
eventually take wing, only this time they all have warheads on them that make
those used by the Americans at Hiroshima and Nagasaki look puny by comparison.
In our day, Kirov, we have rockets that can fly from here all the way to the heartland
of America, and they have the same—
thousands
of them. They can carry not
one, but as many as ten of those warheads, and that is just one side of the
strategic triangle of death each nation builds. The bombers have them, and the
submarines…”

“Madness,”
said Kirov, trying to visualize the terror at the heart of what Karpov was
telling him now.

“Yes,
it was madness. The Americans are working on them even now, in a secret program
based in their southwest deserts. The British and Germans are working on them,
and I have no doubt you are working on them as well. Let me tell you, there is
no end to that madness, except what I saw when I went up those stairs.”

“Volsky
and Fedorov have been trying to prevent that,” said Kirov. “They believe they
can rewrite the history that follows this war, and make peace with the West.”

“They
are sorely mistaken,” said Karpov. “Stalin was probably not the man to get
things off on the right foot when this war ended, but let me tell you something
you can read about in those books you might have hidden away somewhere. It was
called the Atlantic Charter—a secret meeting between Churchill and Roosevelt
that took place this very week, just a few days from now. I learned of that
from one of Fedorov’s books myself, and thought I might attend. In fact, this
meeting may still be planned, and I am willing to bet you will not receive an
invitation. It starts there, Kirov, right there. Think about it! Volsky has
been very chummy with the Royal Navy of late. Do you think they may now know where
that ship really came from—that Churchill might know it as well? So what do you
suppose he will be off to talk with Roosevelt about?”

Kirov
nodded, realizing that this was most likely true. Surely the British knew the
truth about that ship, and they would probably tell the Americans.

“And
what was Volsky doing with that ship? Was he fighting for Mother Russia, or
Great Britain?” Karpov pressed his advantage, knowing he had to resolve this
issue once and for all with Kirov. “Did he propose to save the Crimea for you,
or give you back all our far eastern provinces? Of course not. Volsky is too
spineless to do any of that. He equivocates, along with Fedorov, always
worrying about the history, instead of having the balls to get out there and
shape that history himself, just as you did when you pulled that trigger and
spared the world the wrath of Josef Stalin.”

In
this, Karpov’s words found fertile ground, for Kirov was a man of action, and
not afraid to take strong measures to further his aims, and those of the Soviet
State.

“So
Volsky and Fedorov will not be rewriting anything,” Karpov went on. “They
don’t have what it takes. They don’t see what I have seen, the sad end of the
Soviet Union, and the twenty years I lived through after it fell, until Vladimir
Putin started piecing the broken china back together. Then, when they couldn’t
hem and haw and talk us out of what was rightfully ours, the economic sanctions
came, and after that, they began sending their Armored Cavalry regiments back
to Europe. And one thing led to another—tick tock, just like the pendulum on
that grandfather clock there. Face reality, that is all I do each day. The
United States thought they could enforce their Pax Americana on the whole world
after this war, and they largely did so, until the oil wars started. That’s
what the next one is all about. In many ways it is what this one is about. Why
do you think Hitler is so strong in the south this time. He needs the oil, and
when he gets it, he’ll use it to destroy you, and the Soviet State you built as
well. That’s the bargain that Devil offers you.”

“True
enough,” said Kirov, a sullen and dejected tone to his voice now.

“Of
course it’s true, and Ivan Volkov is the real reason the Germans will get what
they come for. They nearly got all the way to Baku, as you well know, and that
was without any Orenburg Federation in the mix. This time, they will take
everything. Volkov thinks he can strike his own bargain with the Devil, but he
is sorely mistaken. Once Hitler gets what he wants, he will finish us first,
and then deal with Volkov after the war. You know this, Kirov. It’s what you
have feared all along. And what plan did Volsky and Fedorov offer you to cure
that? To sail about with the Royal Navy and make friends with Churchill? That
took no real effort. Britain befriends you now because it must. Its own
survival is at stake, but after the war, they run with America, and you get
left out in the cold. They are planning that first meeting right now—their
little Atlantic Charter, and neither of us are invited.”

“Atlantic
Charter?” said Kirov. “Yes, I am aware of this.”

“Good. I
know about your Red Archive, Mister General Secretary. My man Tyrenkov is also
very good. Read up, and if you want any more evidence of the future they have
planned, I can provide it. I have a little Red Archive of my own, and one thing
more—I have Ilanskiy.”

Kirov
looked at him for some time. “So that is what you mean when you said you could
settle things with a single machinegun squad.”

“Exactly.
You see, I took another trip up those stairs. In fact, I sent Tyrenkov up on a
little reconnaissance mission recently.”

“But I
thought that railway inn was demolished,” said Kirov.

“Don’t
be coy, Kirov. You know damn well I’ve been rebuilding it, and it is now as
good as new.”

“Then
you’ve already tested it? You sent your intelligence Chief up those stairs?”

“Not
from here. Not from 1941. There are other things I need to tell you, and one of
them may be the very reason I am still alive. That airship out there can take
me more places than you might imagine. But let’s make a long story short. You
already know that I was in 1908 at one time—a most decisive year. You knew that
when you had the boldness and strength to eliminate Stalin before he got
rooted. Yes, you plucked out that weed in good time, and in spite of the long
civil war, things might have been much worse if Stalin had lived. It was Volkov
that unhinged all your plans. He was the one man who was able to effectively
oppose you, particularly after he took over the White Movement. Volkov! Well we
can get rid of him easily enough, and we won’t have to use a hundred rifle
divisions to do so. A single machinegun squad can do the job, and we can change
everything—I can change it. I have that power.”

Karpov
let his fist rattle the teacups on the table for good emphasis, shaking the
nicely styled samovar and the gleaming sterling silverware. Kirov sat, arms
folded, realizing that this man did indeed have power far beyond that which he
had already pledged. As if he had read the General Secretary’s mind, Karpov
said exactly that.

“So you
see, I have much more to offer you than five shock armies, and the oil you need
to run this war. I have Ilanskiy, and yes, I can send Tyrenkov back up those stairs
and put an end to Volkov before he ever stumbles on that railway inn. We’ve
seen him, Kirov.” Karpov leaned forward now, lowering his voice. “Yes, we’ve
seen him just as he gets off the damn train, right there in the rail yard with
a few of his men, looking for Fedorov in 2021! Do you realize what I can do
now, what I can really offer you? Now stack up everything Volsky has done for
you. Oh I hear he ran a German raider out of the Kara Sea—big of him. Then he
sailed off to fight for the Royal Navy in the Mediterranean.”

“Can
you really do this?” asked Kirov.

“It
would take careful planning, but yes, it can be done.”

“But
what would happen here? What would happen to all the time when I fought with
Volkov, struggled with him in the revolution, and then faced him down on the
Volga for damn near thirty years?”

“Poof!”
Karpov pinched his fingers, opening them as he spoke. “That all goes away. In
fact, you may never even remember that any of it ever happened after I finish
my little mission. Everything would change, because I would be introducing a major
variation in the history, setting things right, and eliminating Ivan Volkov
before he stabs us all in the back.”

“My
god,” Kirov breathed. “I always knew Ilanskiy was a dangerous place, a card in
your hand that could possibly trump everything else. Yet, with the onset of the
war, and everything I have been dealing with, I have had no time to consider
this fully. Would it work Karpov? Would it really do what you say, and rewrite
all the history from 1908 until now?”

“There
is only one way to know for sure. You are the one man on this earth who
understands the power I now have,” said Karpov. “Yes, you know what I can do,
because you have already done it once yourself when you killed Stalin. So now I
can kill Volkov, for the both of us, and for Russia. Who knows what that will
do? I have thought about it for a very long time, realizing that, in making a
change of this magnitude, everything here would change as well. It is
frightful, a ghastly power that makes those warheads we spoke of earlier seem
feeble, but yet it is already within my grasp. So do not think I want this ship
solely for the power it brings me. It is a very useful tool, but I don’t need
it to change this world as long as I control Ilanskiy. I suppose I could even
settle affairs with the Japanese on that back stairway if I thought about it
long enough. It goes both directions, Sergei—to the future and also to the
past. Yes, you called me Vladimir, and now I return that liberty, and extend my
hand to you again, as a brother, as a soldier for Mother Russia, and as your
friend and ally.”

“Yet
could you not eliminate me the very same way?” asked Kirov. “Suppose everything
you say is true. Suppose we do this thing. I say we, because given what you
have just told me, Ilanskiy is now more important to the future of Russia than
Moscow. We could lose Moscow, Leningrad, all the rest, but if Hitler were to
ever know what we know now.”

“And
there is one man alive who could tell it to him—Ivan Volkov. Could I eliminate
you? Certainly, just as you could order in your Red Guard at this very moment
and shoot me where I sit. But you will not do so, will you. No. Because you
hear in my words the real truth, and possibly for the very first time. You know
that together we can do anything, as long as we trust one another. Kill me, and
Tyrenkov takes my place. I have no doubt that he’s already thought about that.
If not him, then another. Yet I have no desire to eliminate you—quite the
contrary. I see you as the hope of our nation now. Just as you rescued us from
the ravages of Stalin, you will be the one to take us through this war, and
with me at your side.”

So very
much was on the table now, thought Kirov. “Suppose you do this—eliminate
Volkov. What if some other man from the White Movement simply takes his place?”

“This
sort of speculation is useless,” Karpov waved his hand. Yes, we would have to
plan for these possibilities, and then work things out accordingly.”