Nemesis (10 page)

Now
thoughts of home came to him, Severomorsk, Murmansk, what would be happening there?
He flipped through the pages of his history books in his mind. The Germans will
have a couple divisions up north, pushing at the Soviet defensive Perimeter,
and trying to take Murmansk.

I wish
I could just look it all up in my books, he thought, but things have changed.
From what I’ve been able to determine, this is the same world I was in
before—an altered state of reality. Nikolin told me he heard something about fighting
on the Volga on the radio last night. That has to be Volkov, because the
Germans were nowhere near the Volga at this time in the war. Things in my Naval
Chronology will likely be all mixed up, but it was odd how some aspects of the
history rang true.

He
thought of his analogy of the broken mirror now, as he had explained it to the
Admiral once. The overall image may be cracked and distorted, but in places,
that mirror reflected just as it always had, and things were very much the
same. Could this be a little unblemished piece of that looking glass? Even if
the history here had changed, might he find out that some things hold for this
time? He had been reading about this period the previous night in his quarters,
wondering. The British had two submarines up here operating out of Murmansk,
Tigris
and
Trident
. On the 11th of August, according to his chronology, they
operated in the Svaerholt inlet of the North Cape. The Soviets had several
submarines there as well. We are very near that area, and if Tasarov hears
something, Karpov could go off like a firecracker. Suppose he sinks a British
sub?

One
worry piled on another now, and he could feel that rising pulse of adrenaline. Action
on the North Cape was the least of his worries, but it would be very dangerous.
Karpov would see every contact as hostile. He might even fire on a Soviet Sub.
Beyond all that, what about Severomorsk? It wouldn’t be the same, and the
Admiral would know that soon enough.

The
Admiral…

He
wanted to get to Volsky one last time before events began to get out of hand. Yet,
even as he stood up, the alarm sounded and he could hear Rodenko’s voice
announcing a level two alert. It was beginning…

Part
IV

Trial of
Fire

“Some say the world will end
in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I've tasted of
desire

I hold with those who favor
fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction
ice

Is also great

And would suffice.”

―
Robert Frost
:
Fire and Ice

Fedorov
was up and out into the passage aft and looking for any
ladder down, bound for sick bay with a hurried urgency. All around him, men
were also rushing to man their level two battle stations, some donning
protective gear, others grouping into damage control teams, most headed for some
post serving one of the ship’s weapons or radars. So his haste was unnoticed,
seeming part of this well practiced drill, and he made it to sick bay in a few
minutes, yet was so driven that he burst in through the half open hatch without
knocking. There, to his great surprise, stood the Captain, turning his head
with a frown when he saw who it was.

Fedorov
caught his breath, seeing the Admiral sitting up on the cot, a breakfast tray
still on his lap, and Doctor Zolkin dutifully on a chair at his desk, arms
folded, head inclined as though the men were in the midst of some important
discussion.

“Mister
Fedorov,” said Zolkin. “I’ve seen entirely too much of you in recent days.
Don’t tell me you’ve taken ill again.”

“Excuse
me… I didn’t mean to barge in like this…”

“Well
that is exactly what you did,” said Karpov. “Try a few knuckles on the hatch
next time, or perhaps on your head, Lieutenant.”

“What
did you need, Mister Fedorov?” The Admiral gave him an expectant look. “It
appears you are in some hurry.”

“This
is a command level conference, Fedorov,” said Karpov. “Whatever it is can wait.
Shouldn’t you be at your action station?”

“I’m
sorry sir, of course.” Fedorov started to back out, frustrated at his bad luck,
but Admiral Volsky stopped him.

“Stand
where you are, Mister Fedorov. I wish to speak with you as well.”

“Admiral?”
Karpov gave Volsky a disapproving look.

“Bear
with me, Captain. It seems the two of you have had some kind of falling out.”

“Nothing
of the kind,” said Karpov. “The Lieutenant here simply gets in the middle of my
business with alarming regularity since that accident, and he’s been spouting a
raft of nonsense ever since.”

“Well I
would like to invite him to this conference.”

“Sir?”
Karpov’s displeasure was obvious. “What could he possibly contribute here? This
is business for the senior officers.”

“Well,
the last time I looked at his file, our Navigator here was listed as a First
Lieutenant. Yes? And not everything he has come forward with in these last few
days has been nonsense, Captain. Now… I can hear that level two alarm clearly
enough, so we’ll be brief here. You say you ordered Rodenko to elevate the
ship’s readiness state?”

“Yes
sir. We have contacts to both north and south, and now an aircraft at the
hundred kilometer mark, low and slow.”

“The
surface contacts are on radar?”

“No
Admiral. Tasarov reported screw noise of an undetermined nature. He was able to
ascertain bearing and is processing for speed and accurate range now. I should
know more when I return to the bridge, but these were high speed screw
rotations, this seems too unlikely a scenario in this region. I suspect a well
laid trap has been sprung here.”

“A
trap? Then you assume these contacts are hostile?”

“I must
do so, sir, particularly given our present circumstances. We’ve lost two thirds
of our task force, and still do not know why, and we’ve received an emergency
recall order from Moscow, and are now steaming under wartime protocols, under
radio silence. Any contact is therefore to be regarded as hostile until we determine
otherwise. High speed screw noise is a clear and obvious threat. You don’t get
that from tram steamers and trawlers. These must be NATO combat vessels.”

“Yet we
had nothing in our briefing indicating they would be here,” said Volsky. “Naval
intelligence scoured our route for the outward leg of this deployment, as
always, and the seas were clear.”

“Well
that has obviously changed. I expect the southern contact has come up from Tromso.
They know we’re here, sir, and they have to know what happened to
Slava
.
They were most likely responsible!”

“That
has not been determined, Mister Karpov, but I agree that the alert was
correctly ordered. Alright… As to what’s been going on between the two of you…”
Volsky paused, his eyes concerned, and he gave Doctor Zolkin a quiet glance.
“Captain, did the Lieutenant here come to you with concerns about our present
situation?”

“He
did, and his conclusion was a load of utter nonsense about radio shows, weather
stations, and Norwegians with dogs. He’s clearly deluded, sir. Perhaps Zolkin
should make room and he can transfer here permanently.” He gave Fedorov a
disparaging glance.

“Yet
was it not Mister Fedorov who suggested you mount that recon operation to Jan
Mayen?”

“That
was an obvious next step in our investigation. I intended to do so immediately
after recovering the submersible.”

“Well,
you were just telling me what Orlov discovered there. Go on, Captain. Finish
your report.”

Again
the sideward’s look at Fedorov, dismissive, frustrated. “No facilities were
found on the island sir. I believe they were destroyed.”

“Destroyed?
Orlov reported this?”

“Not
exactly. He simply indicated they were not there.”

“What
would be there, Fedorov?”

“Sir,
the MET station. Five or six buildings at Olonkin, including the new Loran-C
Antenna. That operates just like our old CHAKYA Seagull radio navigation
antenna systems at around 100 KHz. Most similar systems were discontinued with
the advent of GPS, but this one was still active, and when we lost satellite
links I immediately looked for that signal.”

“But
you did not find it.”

“No
sir. This is why I recommended the recon operation to Jan Mayen to
investigate.”

“As any
astute officer would.” Volsky gave the Captain a look that seemed to buttress
Fedorov in his eyes, but Karpov said nothing. “So Orlov found nothing on Jan
Mayen? No facilities at all?” He looked at the Captain now.

“A
small weather station manned by two men,” said Karpov, “just as Fedorov
predicted.”

“Predicted?”

“He
told me this was what we would find, and in this, he was correct. Yet I find that
evidence of only one thing, Admiral. Whatever is going on here, Fedorov is
complicit. He even named one of the men we would discover there, and Orlov
found this.” He reached into his pocket, like an attorney producing exhibit one
for a judge. It was the worn and typewritten identity card that Fedorov had
told him to look for.

“That
card was taken from one of the Norwegians on that island, and Fedorov named the
man before the mission was even launched! He’s clearly involved in this somehow,
Admiral. We need to get to the bottom of this here and now.” His eyes hardened
on Fedorov, the suspicion obvious.

“Fedorov?
You were aware of this?”

“I was,
sir.”

“Then
explain yourself please. Is the Captain correct? His inference is obvious. Are
you involved in something that needs further explanation here?”

“Undoubtedly,”
said Karpov. “Don’t forget that radio message he force fed us on the bridge,
Admiral. What was that business about, Fedorov? Some kind of signal or code
flashed to the British? I find it alarming that they would contact us like
that, and ask to speak with you as if you were one of their own. You even admit
you were associated with the man who made that call. You heard him, Admiral.”

“Yes,
yes, an Admiral Tovey… But there is no such Admiral presently serving with the
Royal Navy, and I assume you verified this yourself, Captain.”

“I did
sir. So that stands only as further evidence of deception and duplicity here,
and it is clear now that Fedorov is involved—and not on our side of the equation.”

“That’s
a very serious charge, Captain,” said Zolkin,

“Yes it
is, Doctor. And this is a very serious matter. While we are here chatting about
it, we have hostile contacts on every side, and an aircraft bearing down on us
at low elevation. I came here for only one reason. To obtain the Admiral’s
permission to go weapons free in the event I deemed it necessary to defend the ship.
Now it seems we are investigating Fedorov here, and so be it. His behavior in
recent days has been more than disturbing. It is more than that knock on the
head you had trouble curing. It now borders on sedition, and I intend to have
him answer for it.” He underscored that remark with an obvious tone of
restrained anger.

“I
questioned Nikolin further, and learned that Fedorov asked him to send an all
ships respond message on our 272 coded channel. Coded or not, it was a brash
thing for a Navigator to be ordering. Now Orlov tells me he’s been nosing about
the ship, Admiral. He was down in engineering yesterday. What business does a
navigator have there? When the Chief questioned him about it, he was
insubordinate, just as he was with me. How long are you going to tolerate
this?”

“Just a
moment here, Mister Karpov. You are trying and convicting this young man, and
that would be something only a naval board of inquiry should do.”

“I will
insist on this the moment we reach Severomorsk,” said Karpov tersely.

“Very
well… Captain, that is within your rights, but, at the moment, I would like to
hear from Mister Fedorov. That is unless you feel anything you say now may be
held against you, Lieutenant. The Captain has raised a serious charge here, and
if you wish to request a legal advocate before speaking further, that is your
right as well.”

“No
sir,” said Fedorov. “I will need no legal defense. I understand what the
Captain believes, but I have denied any wrongdoing here, both to him, and to
you sir.”

“Then
how is it you knew this man on Jan Mayen?” said Karpov accusingly. “Was he your
contact there? Is this why you wanted that mission mounted? Out with it,
Fedorov. Perhaps these men were saboteurs, Admiral. They may have been
responsible for the destruction of those facilities on the island.”

“Destruction?”
Fedorov was not prepared to allow the Captain to continue down this corridor.
“Orlov reported that no visible damage was found—no sign of any attack, or any
demolition as you now suggest.”

“Oh? I
wasn’t aware that Orlov reported to you, Lieutenant. That said, what you say is
correct. There was no evidence of an attack found. What I find most damning
here is how you knew that would be the case. Admiral?” Karpov looked at Volsky
now, wanting him to pursue the matter further.

Volsky
took a deep breath, looking at Fedorov. “Your earlier explanation to me was
quite… unusual, Mister Fedorov—except for one thing, and it has been bothering
me like that bad molar I’ve been nursing along for so many years. Captain, did
the Lieutenant here come to you with information about the present condition of
the moon?”

“What?
Yes, he spouted off something about it, along with all the rest of his fairy
tales. Sir, quite frankly, his behavior has been so bizarre that I should have
had him permanently relieved long ago.”

“Did
you understand what he told you—about the moon being off its normal phase and
time?”

“Frankly,
sir, with you disabled here and the ship’s business so pressing, I had no time
to go about gazing at the moon and stars. Clearly Fedorov was seeing stars
here, probably from that knock on the head, or so I first believed. Now it
seems we have something more to deal with, and he has not yet answered for it.”

“Well,
Mister Fedorov came to me with this same information,” said Volsky. “In fact,
he made a point to come to me right at moonrise, and I watched it come up right
out that window there.” He pointed. “The Lieutenant knows his sun and moon, as
any Navigator would, and he insisted it should not be there. So after he left,
I took it upon myself to look up the same information he must have relied on.
Sun and moon data is obtainable in our computer database, for every date and
time, and for any geographic position on this earth. So here is the real issue
we must now discuss—Mister Fedorov was correct. This was no fairy tale he was
spinning out. The moon was wrong yesterday, and it is also wrong today. Our
present position has us in the UTC plus one time zone, and I took the liberty
of obtaining our exact coordinates with a brief call to Mister Petrov on the
bridge this morning—just to double check. The sun was up ten minutes early this
morning. I set my alarm to wake up and see it with my own eyes. It rose at
precisely 01:39, but it wasn’t supposed to be there until 01:49. As for the
moon, it was supposed to be lording it over the skies up here, risen all day, a
nice morning crescent phase according to the data. I called in three men and
had them go look for it, but it is not there…”

“Admiral,
we all know visibility up here is hit and miss. It was probably lost in cloud
cover.”

“No
sir,” said Fedorov, seeing his moment now. “It was clear all night, and remains
clear now. I walk the deck before breakfast whenever I’m on the noon shift, and
the moon is down. I can tell you, and with no uncertainty, that this is wrong.
I can point to the place in the sky where we should see it at this very moment,
but there is no moon, and this can mean only one thing…”