developments saw the weapons deployed months early in the Pacific, though they were too few and still too late to tip the balance of power and salvage Japan’s lost war. The pilots who flew them damaged and sunk several US Ships, the last cherry blossoms falling from the dying tree of Japanese empire, but American gunners at sea came to call them by another name:
And so the war, the long terrible Second World War, played out much as it had in the old history that Fedorov once knew. The industrial might of the U.S. put one carrier after another into the Pacific, and the steady advance of the Allies was once again a certainty—only things ended differently this time. The Americans had seen firsthand what the horror of nuclear weapons would be, though the public never knew about it. The loss of the
For his part, Admiral Yamamoto did not die in a plane crash, shot down by P-38s in April of 1943. The soup of the history was stirred just enough by
Hiroshima and Nagasaki never happened. Task Force 16 had been enough of a peek inside Pandora’s jar. Instead the men of that brave new world reached in and drew out that one last thing at the bottom of the jar,
Time had a way of smoothing over and healing the wounds the ship had made in the history of WWII, like the endless waves on the shoreline slowly blotting out the footprints of a solitary man. Only one thing remained to be done, or undone, and this time
Vladivostok on the Sea of Japan was thousands of miles away, giving Admiral Volsky and his officers a good long time to think how they might explain the damage to the ship, her hull number and insignias all painted over, her weapons inventory depleted, and the presence of old twenty millimeter rounds in her hide, weapons that had not been fired for almost a century. In the end it was determined that the rounds could be found and removed, the hull number and insignia restored, and the ship would claim damage from the accident that did, indeed, send the submarine
As for the missing missiles, Volsky had his story well in hand: live fire exercises. That was what the ship had been sent out to do in the first place, and then it was to have sailed to Vladivostok in any wise to replace an old cruiser there and become the new flagship of the Pacific Fleet. In fact, Admiral Volsky had been slated to assume command there when the ship arrived in any case, replacing Admiral Abramov.
Radio failure was a convenient icing on the cake they baked to explain why they never called for help until they arrived in the far east, a long month later. As to why they did not simply sail their damaged ship home to Severomorsk, Volsky’s power and prestige was enough. The Admiral passed it all off to the Russian Naval Command as a perfect opportunity to train his crew under more exacting conditions, simulating circumstances of a real wartime footing. He had simply chosen not to return, and continue his mission to the Pacific. An Admiral at sea is second only to God himself, and no one could question him and prevail. Suchkov could criticize him roundly, and demand his resignation, but old “Papa Volsky” was too well established to be easily pushed around, and too well loved and respected.
There was, however, considerable mystery surrounding the fact that
Before they returned to Mother Russia, they had a long discussion about the reactor core, and Rod-25, and why it might have caused the strange displacement in time. In the end it was left a mystery, something they knew they could never determine on their own, and something they definitely decided could never be revealed to the engineers back home. Admiral Volsky told Dobrynin that he would stay in close contact with him on the matter, and the engineer devised a plan.
Then the Admiral sailed resolutely east to find his island, and the crew took a much needed shore leave on a mostly deserted speck in paradise, to their great satisfaction.
Days later they made a careful inspection of the ship, held long discussions with the crew about what had happened, and let it generally be known that the whole event was to be forgotten and never spoken of again. They were a select legion of ghosts and goblins now, and the crew of
Fedorov secreted away a digital copy of the log books in a small memory key, and also carefully removed the newspapers they had found on Malus Island. A clever man, with much foresight, he went to the ship’s library and quietly “took care” of any volume that might reveal a history that might not be in accord with the record written on the world they were returning to. He did keep a very few cherished volumes, however, in a dark and secret place. In particular, he coveted his old copy of the
Admiral Volsky thought he might retire some years after his return and lived out the remainder of his days on one of the Pacific islands he had yearned for all his life. Vladimir Karpov also found that idea appealing, tired in the service of war. He thought he might slip quietly away into a life of his own, a changed man, and some years later look for a wife, having finally found the capacity to love. Doctor Zolkin would leave the ship In Vladivostok, and take up a residency in the Naval hospital there. Many of the ship’s officers and crew also found they wanted nothing more to do with
There was only one loose end that they could not account for, though Anton Fedorov spent many long hours trying. What had happened to Chief Gennadi Orlov? Where did he go? What effect, if any, did he have on the history that Fedorov could now spend long quiet years re-reading, re-learning, much to his delight? His curiosity and diligence would become a saving grace for the world, though he did not yet know that as he stood on the weather deck when the ship first returned to Vladivostok harbor.
As it turned out, fate was not so kind to Orlov. Yes, he found a new life as well after he jumped from the KA-226 that day, yet it was not the life he had imagined. Time, fate, and the British Special Intelligence Service had other plans for him. But that, dear reader, is another tale.
Thank you so much for reading this one!
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