Chapter 9

It was a clear winter's day at Eden. The snow line came down to the trees, now stripped of their foliage, that clung desperately to the mountains on either side of the fjord. The surface of the water was glassy and sludgy from the cold as the Bedowan of the Al Tafliq lined the beach.

Traditionally, the ceremony starts when the bride's tribe arrive at the camp of the groom's but, because the Al Tafliq were quartered at Eden, things had to be improvised. A small flotilla of boats put out from one end of the beach, and transferred the bridal party to the other. Great care was taken to ensure Valentin didn't glimpse the bride until the appointed moment, considered very bad luck.

Their finery was more appropriate for a warm climate and they shivered in their thin, finely embroidered robes. Tradition counted more than comfort, but the pace seemed to quicken as they advanced towards a roaring bonfire.

The religion of the Bedowan had no priests or imams. The ceremony was officiated by the elders of the respective 'tribes'. Therefore Commander Gorshin, in full dress uniform, stood alongside Dogan, in white cotton robes, with their backs to the fire.

Pavlov stood to Valentin's right. In day's gone past, this would've freed his shield arm to defend the groom from the stabs of jealous competitors. The groom could carry no weapons so it was up to his 'right hand man' to get him to the ceremony intact.

Karyn's party came prepared for a fight, as was traditional, with swords and daggers drawn. In the long ago past when clans met there was a great deal of tension until the alliance was sealed. Some weddings had ended in a outpouring of historic grievances and jealousies but, on this occasion, there was unlikely to be any trouble. The union was going to be advantageous to the fortunes of both parties, that much was obvious.

The Bedowan were a tribal people and, although attempts at unity had been attempted in the past, they hadn't really got it together. Some kind of central authority or organisation was clearly needed for progress; a monarch or religious figure, perhaps, or a grand council of tribal leaders?

Karyn herself was veiled and dressed in flowing, embroidered silk robes from head to toe. Around her head she wore a gold chain with an obsidian pendant in the shape of the crescent sun. Two more crescents decorated her ornate moccasins. All assembled gasped in awe at the sight and Pavlov nudged the groom, smiling.

"Not too late to change your mind?" he whispered.

Valentin looked perplexed at the suggestion until he caught Pavlov's smile. In any case, a sudden refusal at this point would likely end in bloodshed.

The ceremony, itself, continued without a hitch and Karyn and Valentin were safely married. Clanging, shrill, Bedowan music accompanied the bridal couple to their new quarters, performed by some of Valentin's new relatives. Discretely, they departed after a bit to allow the couple to begin married life.

The 'Alexandr Pokryshkin' burst through into what was currently referred to at Polyarnii as 'Betaworld.' Close to port, the crew were relieved to see the 'Besstrashnyy, ' her escort, and to starboard, the Fleet Auxiliary 'Anadyr.'

The Pokryshkin had had many roles in its long career. It had been designed for oceanographic research way back in the sixties, but now its spacious helicopter landing deck was crowded with three Mil Mi-14s, all equipped with sea search radar. Its holds were crammed with supplies and it accomodation cluttered with support personnel.

The Besstrashnyy was a Projekt 58 Guided Missile Destroyer, known to NATO as the 'Sovremennyy Class.' It too was equipped with a chopper, a Kamov Ka-27, on a pad amidships. The Anadyr was a tanker, loaded with jet fuel and bunker oil.

None of the ships were new and C in C Northern Fleet Admiral Ustinov had had trouble authorising even these for the support operation.

Enthusiasm for the exploration of Betaworld was beginning to crumble in Moscow, following the initial excitement. Cost was a factor, coupled with a possible open ended deployment. The bean counters were starting to press for a cost benefit analysis and the whole operation turned over to the Americans. It was their people, they reasoned, so why was Russia's treasury expected to pay? But asking the Americans to pay meant surrendering control anyway. What served the State in keeping a base in some strange alternative earth? What science was there that would justify the expense? Indeed, what was the point in re-fighting World War Two and what was next, the Turkish War, the Russian Revolution?

There were no photo ops or kudos for President Vladimir Putin. This whole thing had to be kept out of the papers and off Television. Only the triumphant return of the Texas and its crew escorted by Russian warships might serve some public relations coup. Then again, what cover story could be employed that would satisfy a curious world? The suspicion that Russia had really been hiding the US's latest attack submarine all along, perhaps at a port in some compliant African state, was going to be hard to dispel.

Ustinov knew, though, that there were mysteries to uncover, new discoveries about the nature of time and space awaiting. Did a person going back and forth return to exactly the same world? What about the 'Grandfather Paradox, ' which asked the question; if a person went back in time and killed their own ancestor, then how could he? The Japanese aircraft carrier Hosho was sunk at the Battle of the Coral Sea by US aircraft, there was even a photograph. How could it now be in Betaworld? Will it return in time to be sunk? What if Retvizan sunk it with a Vodopad cruise missile in Betaworld? What then happens to history? Does it all just change as if it never was? Does U-38 languish in Hong Kong with its wolfpack awaiting the Japanese surrender as history records? Or do we discover, suddenly, the entire flotilla disappeared in 1942 without trace?

The Admiral had to justify the extra deployment in terms of the primary mission, the search for the Texas. The old ships he found for the mission were due to be retired in a few years anyway, and wouldn't create too big a hole in the inventory. Trained seamen, however, were a different story as they all had families that would require explanations. He knew if one of these expensive specialists was lost he could kiss goodbye to the whole scheme.

'Pokryshkin to Base Eden' Captain Orlov signalled, 'have transited stop. Will require navigational guidance stop.'

Monitors on U-38 picked up the short wave signal and passed it to Kapitan Schoemann. On the Hosho, at the base the Japanese called 'Shokaku', Admiral Ito received the signal almost simultaneously.

'Retvizan to Pokryshkin. Please encrypt signals.'

Orlov immediately understood he'd made a serious mistake. 'Pokryshkin to Besstrashnyy', he signalled using the short range TBS Net, 'suggest you deploy helicopter for ASW sweeps.'

At Eden, Gorshin was furious with Orlov. In the current situation, to announce yourself to the whole world was idiocy. He only hoped the presence of reinforcements might act as a deterrent to Ito, but he doubted it. The man wanted glory and little would deter him. He immediately called over Boomer and, together with his senior officers, requested a conference.

"Our reinforcements have arrived," he told the men, "but they've unzipped their fly..."

"Do we know what their strength is?" asked Boomer.

"A tanker and helicopters, I believe, with perhaps an escorting destroyer or two. I'm waiting on a fuller report."

"We're starting to run out of room here at Eden," Fedyunsky said, "what are we going to do with all these extra personnel?"

"They will have to remain on their ships."

"Commander?" asked Pavlov, "are we any clearer who's to command all of this?"

"Well," Gorshin thought, "Ustinov is leaving everything up to me. I'm promoting you temporary Colonel, with command over all our ground forces. This makes sense to me. You have local knowledge and command experience."

"Have you alerted your boys to the situation here?" Boomer asked.

"I've sent a situation report... in code," he added, pointedly.

Just then, the intercom beeped. Gorshin picked it up.

"Sir," it said, "we're receiving a message... in English and uncoded. It's from a German U-boat."

"Read it to me," he ordered.

"Ah... Commander of German wolfpack to Russian submarine, stop. Request permission to enter harbour for discussions, stop."

"What?" Gorshin exclaimed, "where the Hell are they and why haven't we detected them?"

"Ah, sir, we only have a limited sweep from the fjord. Likely they came down the coast... inshore and beyond the sonar vector."

"Dammit! You telling me it is possible for a World War Two submarine to approach undetected?"

"Um, well, yes, I guess I am saying that."

"Radetsky! You will rectify that immediately!"

"Of course... er... but how?"

"Sonarbouy?" suggested Boomer, "dropped out beyond the heads?"

"See to it now, Radetsky. Take a boat and drop it over the side."

Later, with the Diana's gun trained on her, the U-38 slowly cruised into Edenfjord. The conning tower of the German U-boat was clustered with her officers and the crew lined the hull. None of them had seen such submarines of the size of Retivizan and the Texas and they were awestruck. The German came to anchor alongside the vast bulk of the Russian Akula, looking like a child's bathtub toy by comparison. Two officers came up over the hull and introduced themselves to Boomer and Gorshin. The Russian captain had them escorted down to the wardroom for a conference.

Schoemann explained about his encounter with the Japanese and confirmed that an attack of some sort was imminent. Through an interpreter, Gorshin asked him what was in it for him to pass on the news.

"Ah, well," explained the German commander, "the Japanese wish to continue the war in this world. What they offered us was a way home for our assistance. But I suspected, and that has been confirmed, that we are to be sacrificed for the ambitions of this Ito. I also suspect that you people also have a way home. I considered it the better option."

"Well, true," Gorshin replied, "we can give you the times and co-ordinates to take you back to our world, but that is 60 years in your future..."

"Can you tell me, commander," the German interrupted, "what will happen to us in the war?"

"Golovko?"

"Sir," answered the Retvizan's linguist and historian, "the U-38 was captured by the Japanese in Hong Kong when Germany surrendered. However, on orders from Berlin, the crew disabled the engines so effectively the Japanese were unable to put it into operation. Only a handful of the crew survived Japanese incarceration..."

"How many?" snapped Schoemann.

"Ah, seven, I believe. You, ah, were used as slave labourers by the Japanese army until the war's end. Records are sketchy, but, it has been suggested that all the officers were beheaded shortly after the atom bomb was dropped..."

"Seven? Is that all?"

"Yes, sir, all in poor physical condition because of abuse and starvation... some had been flogged... The Japanese claim you were killed as a result of an American fire raid on Tokyo. Another claim was that you were working at the shipyard at Hiroshima when the bomb dropped."

"What of the other crews?"

"Of, ah, 476 German seamen of the Rudelschwarm Schoemann... based in Hong Kong... ah..." Golovko read, "some 80 survived to return to Germany in 1945."

"And no officers?"

"None, ah, sir."

"This is the fate our allies have in store for us?" Schoemann shrugged, "I believe your time might be a better option. We thought that some of us might return to our families... survive the war to start new lives, but we did not sign on to be treated like this by our allies..."

"It is a bitter fate," agreed Gorshin, "to die in action is one thing..."

"Even so, have you any idea what it would be like to be sunk in a submarine? The lucky ones have a quick death... others succumb to asphyxiation... poisoned by chlorine gas, drowned slowly... Once I accepted this risk as part of war. I am a career officer, commander, and of my class of '32, more than half of those comrades now lie under the waters of the British Isles."

"Sir," interrupted Golovko, "it says here, 'of 40,000 men who served in the German U-boat service, 30,000 were killed. That is the highest loss ratio of any of the Wehrmacht's fighting forces in the second world war'."

"You see? Three quarters of us were condemned to die before we ever left port in 1939. Most of these men are only in their early twenties. Few of them are married, maybe 1 in 50, if that. Most will never have families. Perhaps I might at least give them that chance? Please, commander, show us the way to your century. Give these men a chance to live their lives?"

"It is a different world, Schoemann," Gorshin told him, "one where Fascism has no place and is slowly being eradicated from the consciousness. But one where there are other forms of fanaticism..."

"I don't care, commander. There will always be fanaticism. But do you not think we've had ample time to reflect on the claims of Adolf Hitler and the Nazis? We, above all, know the price we're expected to pay."

"I think the Jews might also know the price," snorted Boomer.

"I cannot unmake the past," Schoemann replied, "but, perhaps, I can make a little future for some of its victims?"

"Perhaps you can?" agreed Gorshin.

"Commander? Do you think they deserve it?" Boomer asked.

"That is a question for some higher authority," Gorshin replied, "I'm not God. Boomer, some 20 million of our people were destroyed by Nazis, including two of my uncles. Like this man, I cannot unmake the past, but, at least, I have some control over the future. For 90 years our people were told only what the State wanted them to know. I know what it us like to be so propagandised, so programmed, to think a particular way. I have enough compassion at this end of my life to spare for a few of our former enemies. I intend to give these men a chance to start lives free from state bondage."