they stopped the invasion. That said, sir, I can’t even be certain that battle was even fought now.”
“What do you mean? Not fought?”
“America enters the war three months early, sir. At least I assume as much. It was our destruction of their Task Force 16 in the Atlantic, and the sinking of the
“Yes, I recall our earlier discussion on this.”
“Well don’t you see how significant that is, Admiral? If there was no attack on Pearl Harbor, then the whole chronology of the war at sea in the Pacific might have been severely altered. Major battles like Coral Sea and Midway might not have occurred. These are much more significant events than the early deployment of a few Italian cruisers in the Med, or even the movement of those two battleships to La Spezia. If there was no Pearl Harbor attack, or no operation against Midway, it would change everything. It could even be the real source of the variation in the history that has led to the war we read about in those newspapers.”
Suppose this interval holds true and we land here in 1943. What lies ahead?”
“We will have some real trouble on our hands if we stay on this course, Admiral. The Americans and Japanese were still locked in a bitter struggle for the Solomons, at least in the history I know.”
“You are speaking of Guadalcanal?”
“Well by February of 1943 that island had been secured, but the action shifted northeast to New Georgia and by August there was fighting for Vella Lavella, and also action in New Guinea as MacArthur drove on the vital airfield at Lae, and then against the Bismarck Barrier.”
“Ah yes,” said Volsky. “MacArthur, Halsey, Nimitz and Yamamoto. All circling one another like a pack of great sumo wrestlers.”
“Yamamoto would have been killed in April of 1943, sir. But I can’t be sure of this any longer. The history may no longer be reliable. If any one of these major battles was not fought, then there is no telling what might be happening in this theater, and that being the case, it won’t be as easy to pinpoint our location in time.”
“I see why you have been brooding so long over this, Fedorov. Your history has been all fouled up, and you’ve lost your way—we all have lost our way. Now I’m afraid we will have to yield that god-like advantage we had of knowing the enemy’s every move. It evens things out somewhat, yes? Something tells me that both the Japanese and Americans will prove determined and dangerous foes in this theater, and we would be wise to avoid them and look for our island somewhere else. Perhaps we should reverse our course now and seek out safer waters.”
“That might be wise, Admiral. Ahead lies the Torres Strait, the Coral Sea and the Solomons. Those were all violent war theaters in 1942 and 1943.”
“Maybe we should have sailed south of the Australian continent.”
“Indeed, sir. But who can say? We are still not sure where we are—in time that is.”
“Yes, but you have that inner misgiving gnawing at you, Fedorov. It is just like my tooth when we get up north in the Arctic Sea. I’ve learned to pay attention to it, and so I take your warning here to heart. We will reverse course.”
It was a sound and wise decision, they both knew, but one that would never come to pass. Rodenko was suddenly alert, his eyes fixed on his primary long range radar screen, and very intent.
“Signal returns again,” he said quickly.
Both Volsky and Fedorov came to his side, their eyes searching the screen. “Where?” asked Volsky, squinting at the milky green readout of the radar.
“Here,” Rodenko pointed. “About 175 miles northwest of our position. It looks like a weather front developing, but then I lose it and everything is clear—no signal and no weather front.”
Volsky walked slowly to the starboard side of the bridge and peered through the viewport. The day was clear and warm, the pristine waters of the sun dappled Timor Sea stretching out behind them to an empty horizon. He watched for some time, thinking he saw the barest glimpse of white cloud there, but all seemed well.
“Here, sir,” said Fedorov. “We have another signal.”
The Admiral hastened back in time to see the cloudy returns of something building on the northwest edge of their radar scope. He craned his neck toward the viewport again, thinking to see telltale signs of a weather front.
“There, Admiral,” Rodenko pointed. “Do you see them. That’s a formation of aircraft. Look at the structure. It can be nothing else.” The signal quavered, clouded over, and then was gone again.
“We’re pulsing,” said Fedorov in a low voice, “shifting in and out of some more definite time frame.”
“If we only had some point of clear reference we might spot changes in the environment around us,” said Volsky, “but we are too far off shore. The ocean looks the same in every direction, and that distant coastline is lost in haze at this hour.”
“That’s Melville Island up ahead, Admiral,” said Fedorov. “We’re just west of the Beagle Gulf that would take us into Darwin.”
“What about the weather front?” said Rodenko. “It was the same way the first time. The weather changed abruptly.”
“Are you sure your equipment is sound?”
“All systems report green and nominal, Admiral. We had everything checked very thoroughly over the last eight days and we’ve even replaced the systems that were damaged by the first strafing run that caught us by surprise in the Med. No. My radar is not malfunctioning.”
“It’s not the weather I’m worried about,” said Fedorov, “though that is reason enough for concern. We have cloudless skies now, and nothing on the horizon, but you say the reading appears to be a
“Agreed,” Volsky said quickly. “I think it best that we move to level two alert, and if there is no objection I will come about and begin a graceful withdrawal from this sector. We’ll head west again.”
Fedorov thought for a moment. “I suggest we wait for a moment, sir. I think—”
“Level two alert, Mister Fedorov,” Volsky scolded. “A good
“I’m sorry, sir.” Fedorov turned to a watch stander and repeated the order. “Signal alert level two—ship wide alarm.”
“Aye, sir.”
The claxon was now clearly audible, and Volsky nodded his head, satisfied. “Now,” he said. “You have an opinion on our course?”
“If we assume the worst, that we are again settling into another time, and supposing it is still the 1940s, then those planes would either have to be flying from bases at Kupang on Timor Island, or else they are off carriers.”
“Could you get a read on their heading, Rodenko?” The Admiral wanted more information.
“The signal returns were too brief to process, but I did note the range was decreasing, not increasing.”
“That doesn’t sound very reassuring,” said Volsky. “If these were planes from a carrier group, where would they be headed, Mister Fedorov?”
“There were no major naval actions in this region, sir, except perhaps the raid on Darwin in February of 1942.”
“Could this be what we are seeing then?”
“Perhaps, sir. But it would mean we have slipped farther back. Thus far the interval has always seen us move forward in time, never appearing earlier than our first displacement.”
“Yes,” said Volsky, “and I suppose the good Admiral Tovey might have mentioned it if we did appear in February of 1942, and that becomes quite a puzzle if it is the case. We are missing weapons we would not have expended for another six months when we appeared in the Med!”
“I agree, sir,” said Fedorov. “A bit of a paradox when viewed from any perspective other than our own.”
“Then let us pretend Mother Time does not like her skirts ruffled too much, even if she has shown us a little leg. We already have a hand on her knee—our presence in 1941 has clearly caused a great deal of trouble. Perhaps she will not let us go any further with such a thing as you describe—this paradox business.”
“Then I can think of no major carrier action here in 1943, or later. But as I have said, I cannot be sure of anything now. The course of events in the Pacific could all be radically different.”
