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Authors: John Schettler

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BOOK: Paradox Hour
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“But Tasarov? Kamenski? They had nothing to do with that thing,” Volsky protested, inwardly grieving for the missing, like a father who had lost his children.

“It is only one possible explanation,” said Fedorov. “Maybe it had nothing to do with these disappearances. Perhaps it was us—the ship and crew—all of us, as I said earlier. We could simply be fated now, fated to face the consequences of the world we have created in the future with our actions in the past. I don’t have all the answers. Right now everything is spinning like a mad top. We’re somewhere, but we don’t know where. It isn’t just these three men that have gone missing. From Admiral Tovey’s perspective, we’ve
all
gone missing—right along with the ship itself.” Then something occurred to him, that had stood as one of those stubborn unanswered questions in his mind for so long. “Just like Alan Turing’s watch,” he said.

“What is this you say?” said Volsky.

“You remember how Turing claimed his favorite watch went missing, only to reappear in those file boxes containing evidence of our earlier time displacements? They appeared at the same time we arrived here, in June of 1940, but time had a problem with that. You and I both know that everything in those files was created in the  future, mostly in 1942 from the dates on the material. Everything in those boxes then moved to 1940—including the watch. Apparently Turing must have had the watch with him while he was working on those files in 1942. Who knows, perhaps it slipped and fell into one of those file boxes. When they moved here, strangely following in our wake, there would have been a problem. Unlike the files,
that watch was already here.
It existed in June of 1940, and so how could it travel back inside one of those file boxes? It was a paradox, and look at the way time handled it. Turing’s watch went missing. It simply vanished, until it turned up later in that file box.
We
vanished the same way, the ship, all of us, because we face the same paradox.”

“Yet we thought we would have until July, Fedorov. We first shifted on July 28th, during those damn live fire exercises. You are saying this is not so? This paradox business has already happened?”

“Perhaps. It may have merely been the ship’s instability in time that provoked this latest shift. In that case, perhaps Time is just taking advantage of that to sort things out.”

Then this is the result?” said Volsky. “Lenkov? That warped deck over there where your boots are still stuck? Men missing?” He shook his head. “I know you cannot know any of this for certain, Fedorov. Forgive me if you hear any blame in my tone. I mean none. If these are the consequences of our actions here, we may never know why some are missing, while we still remain. A pity we don’t have Kamenski to weigh in on this.”

Now Fedorov remembered what he had found on that nightstand. He reached into his pocket, feeling the key, his mind returning to that piece of this shattered puzzle.

“Kamenski left something behind,” he said, drawing out the key. “I found it on the nightstand, just sitting by the lamp.”

“That is one of those mysterious keys, is it not?” asked Volsky. “If I understand correctly, one was responsible for moving the
Argos Fire
—displacing it in time, just like Rod-25. Yes?”

“Not exactly, Admiral. I asked Miss Fairchild about this, and she believed it was the box that moved the ship. The key merely activated it. In fact, she said she believed there was a fragment from the Tunguska Event in a hidden compartment of that box. I do not know how she would come to that conclusion, but apparently British intelligence knew about the odd effects surrounding Tunguska, and we both know what Orlov found there…”

“Only too well,” said Volsky. “But I don’t like this, Fedorov. That thing might be part and parcel with what we are dealing with now. What if you turn up missing next, just like Kamenski?”

“I don’t think the key caused his disappearance,” said Fedorov. “It was placed on the nightstand, as if he had deliberately left it there to be found. If Kamenski just vanished, and the key was all that remained behind, why wouldn’t I have found it in some haphazard place, perhaps on the  floor, or chair where he often liked to sit and do his reading. No. I think he meant to leave it behind, and meant for us to find it if that is so. Fairchild seemed to think these keys were very important sir. In fact she claimed to be their keeper, on a mission to recover any known key they could find. That was what this rendezvous with
Rodney
was for, but when I last spoke with Director Kamenski, he told me Fairchild was mistaken. She was not the keeper of those keys—Kamenski said he was!”

“What? You mean he knew about these keys all along?”

“Yes sir, he said he had been a Keyholder for over thirty years. Apparently the KGB found this that long ago, and he’s had it in his possession ever since.”

“Remember what I said earlier, Fedorov. There’s more to that man than we know. But I don’t suppose that key will unlock the dilemma we now find ourselves in. We still don’t know our position, in space
or
time. What are we going to do about this situation?”

“We should look after the crew first,” said Fedorov. “We know men are missing. There may be others we do not know about—others we’ve forgotten.”

“Yes, we must count heads,” said Volsky. “Yet a few minutes ago no one here even remembered Tasarov. Taking roll call is going to be a bit of a problem under these circumstances.”

“Perhaps we can check all the ship’s records,” said Fedorov. “I’m beginning to think these changes are still underway, a process that has not reached completion. If that is so, there may be some record or clue that can help us. I suggest we start with the ship’s primary roster, and see if Orlov and the other missing men are still listed there. Yes, we might find some evidence—particularly the digital records. All the electronics seemed unphased by this last event… except the Purser’s computer. He had no record of any assignment to Kamenski’s quarters. I think we must act quickly now. Whatever seems to be happening to the ship and crew might still be underway. Mister Nikolin, see if you can find the ship’s roster in a digital file, then compare it to any printed physical roster we have. Check for discrepancies. Check everything.”

“Then we will finally have a count on the empty chairs,” said Volsky with a somber tone.

“As to where we are, and what happens next,” said Fedorov, “I do not think we can just sit here, waiting for the axe to fall. What? Will we watch people disappear, one by one? It feels like we are sitting here with all our heads on the chopping block,  waiting for the executioner, or worse. No. I think we must do something. We still have those two control rods. Remember what we discussed? Time to go to Plan B.”

“But Fedorov,” said the Admiral. “Chief Dobrynin is gone. We have no one who can listen to the event, the reactors—no way to control the outcome.”

“We had no control over this the first time we displaced,” said Fedorov. “In fact, it wasn’t until we reached the Pacific that we put two and two together and figured out Rod-25 was responsible. I say we should just get on with the maintenance procedure, and see where it takes us. Anywhere would be preferable to this nightmare. We must try and take our fate into our own hands.”

 “Spoken like a good ship’s Captain,” said Volsky. “If we end up in the Himalayas, sitting on some lonesome peak like Noah’s Ark, then we’ll all have a good meal, and hike out.”

Fedorov nodded, as he could think of no real reason why they should not try—aside from the possibility they might end up
inside
the Himalayas, which he had suggested to Volsky earlier, though he said nothing of that now.

“I think we must hurry sir,” said Fedorov, with more urgency. “We’ve got to take some action before it’s too late! These events are still unfolding. The longer we delay, the greater our peril.”

“Very well,” said Volsky. “Now that I notice all these stripes on my jacket cuff, I think I will start giving some orders. Mister Nikolin, get back to your station and dig up those digital files, but first send a message to the reactor room. Tell whoever is in charge that they are to retrieve the Beta control rod from storage and re-mount it in the  number twenty-five reserve rod position. They are to prepare for normal rod cycle maintenance, to be initiated on my order, or that of Captain Fedorov or any senior officer on the bridge. Hopefully, no one else will be leaving soon…”

 He gave them all one last look, as if trying to firmly fix the image of each man in his head, seeing the lines on their faces, their eyes, remembering them, loving them all. Then he smiled.

“Let’s get to work, gentlemen, before we end up having coffee with Orlov!”

That was life in a nutshell, thought Fedorov. They were all going to disappear one day, in one way or another, and then simply vanish from this world. It was all about the things they could do while they were still here.

 

* * *

 

Far
away, perhaps in another time and place, the world
Kirov
had vanished from was still raging with the ravages of war at sea. As
Rodney
foundered, her hull rent open by the explosion of her own torpedoes, two ships appeared on the horizon,
Renown
and
Repulse
, rushing to the scene with guns elevated for battle. And off to the southeast,
Argos Fire
was dashing forward into the fray, the missile crews rushing to their stations.

Yet Kapitans Topp and Hoffmann were not to fight alone. Lütjens’ task force was also arriving on the scene coming out of the southwest like a sudden squall. There sailed the ship that had once been fated to meet its doom this very month, the
Bismarck
. And behind came another ship, larger, more powerful, looming like a shadow of death, the
Hindenburg
.

Not wanting to miss out on the action, Admiral Tovey had also altered his course to steam north to
Rodney
’s aid. Though he might come late to the party, HMS
Invincible
would soon make its presence felt with the roar of nine more massive 16-inch guns. It was to be the largest naval battle ever to be fought in the Atlantic, a collision of five battleships, three battlecruisers, and one interloper from another era, desperate to save
Rodney
, and not knowing her quest was already foiled.

But time and fate were fickle partners in the mad dance that was now underway. Things gone missing in one era, might be found somewhere else. No one knew just then where the quest for that missing key might now lead, or what the fate of England’s embattled new ally might finally be.

Kirov
had left the world of the here and now, its sharp bow slipping into the grey shadow of Paradox. The strange effects had started with Lenkov, with that awful unheard sound, but they would not end there. Each moment was now bringing the ship closer and closer to that final tick of Time’s unfathomable clock—that final hour when
Kirov
would be held to account for all its many interventions in the history of these events.

As with Alan Turing’s watch, the ship had slipped into some sallow purgatory, waiting to be judged, and not knowing whether heaven or hell would greet them with that final tolling of the hour that Fedorov had feared for so long. Their presence in 1941 had been a grave and insoluble problem for Time.

On one side of that equation, the ship and crew were set to pierce the ground of infinity, to be planted in the cold northern seas of World War Two like a darksome seed of doom. On the other hand, that seed had already bloomed, a black rose, its thorny stem scoring the history as it grew, its dark flower a shadow in the Devil’s Garden of time. Yet only one of the two could remain when that final bell tolled, and Time would have to choose which side of that equation would balance through to the zero sum it was seeking now. Which would it be, the darksome seed or the black rose?

It was time to decide, because the hour of fate was drawing nigh…
Paradox Hour.

 

 

 

The Saga Continues…

 

Season 3
of the
Kirov Series
opens with Volume 17:
Doppelganger
, where the answer to the dilemma that now faces Mother Time will decide the fate of the ship and crew. Battle still rages in the Atlantic, and Elena Fairchild arrives on the scene to discover the crisis aboard
Rodney
has made her quest for the lost key impossible. Yet there she meets one other uninvited guest, an American officer who reveals that he is not the man he seems. Together they consider what they may have lost, and how it might yet be saved.

Meanwhile, Vladimir Karpov has discovered that his own personal fate is also in jeopardy as his dwindling lease on time runs thin. Realizing the dilemma that had plagued Fedorov for so long, he rises in
Tunguska
, intent on seeking the heart of a gathering storm, in a desperate attempt to save his own twisted soul from the ravages of Paradox. As he peers through the shattered glass of history, deep into the mirror of time, he suddenly discovers his own self looking right back at him.

The exciting alternate history of WWII careens forward into 1942, as Germany now makes its great bid to destroy Kirov’s Soviet Russia and smash the last of the stubborn British resistance in the Middle East. Yet new weapons of war will appear, strange doppelgangers spawned from the legacy of
Kirov
. Now they darken the battlefields of Europe, when the tempo of technology leaps ahead to produce a new generation of tanks, aircraft and the deadly art of missile warfare arrives years early.

Don’t miss the premier of Season 3 of the amazing
Kirov Series

Doppelganger.

 

 

Reading the Kirov Series

The
Kirov Series
is a long chain of linked novels by John Schettler in the Military Alternate History / Time Travel Genre. Like the popular movie “The Final Countdown” which saw the US Carrier
Nimitz
sent back in time to the eve of Pearl Harbor in 1941, in the opening volume, the powerful Russian battlecruiser
Kirov
is sent back to the 1940s in the Norwegian Sea where it subsequently becomes embroiled in the war.

BOOK: Paradox Hour
3.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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