Otherwise,
their present inventory of aircraft can annoy us, cause casualties, attack the gondolas
and engines, which have only light armor. But we can out climb them, and mostly
out gun them and make them pay a dear price for attacking us. They usually
confine their air operations to ground support and reconnaissance.”
“That
will change soon,” said Karpov. “They have a very well trained naval aviation
corps. I will have to speak with… my brother, to plan our strategy soon.”
“I’m
sure he is eager for that as well, sir.”
Karpov
offered a thin smile. “Tyrenkov… The other men here. How will this be
explained?”
“At the
moment, they have been told nothing. In fact, they believe you are their
commanding Admiral. And why should they think otherwise? In time, I believe it
is the Admiral’s intention to present you as an identical twin brother, which
is not very far from the truth, I suppose.”
The
telephone on the desk rang, and Tyrenkov walked briskly to answer it. “Yes?
Very well, I will inform the Admiral.” He set the receiver in its cradle, and
smiled. “Our Air Commandant Bogrov has reported the ship is in sight. We will
be making our close approach within thirty minutes.”
Karpov
seemed very glad for the news, taking in a deep breath and straightening his
jacket. Kirov would soon be in sight again, beneath him, its tall
battlements and radar domes gleaming in the wan sun. He went to the cabin
window, smiling to see the telltale white wake of a warship ahead, and wishing
he was back aboard.
“I
suppose this is somewhat difficult for you,” said Tyrenkov.
“Somewhat…”
“Do not
fear, Admiral. You will settle into your role here soon enough.”
“Yes,”
said Karpov, “that’s a good way of putting it, isn’t it—my role. This is all
just nice theater for the moment, a little act to keep the men in line. Yes?
Well, do not think of me as a simpleton, or a yes man, Chief Tyrenkov. I saw
the wisdom in what my brother proposed, and I willfully accepted this post.”
“Of
course, sir.”
“I did
not think it came with such perks… that’s quite a samovar there on the side
table.”
“A
gift, sir, from Sergei Kirov.”
“What?
He gets twenty divisions and we get a samovar and five airships? It sounds like
he got much the better of that deal.” Even as he said that, the Captain knew
quite well what else was on the scale in those negotiations—the ship, Kirov ,
the greatest concentration of raw military power on this earth.”
“Did my
brother know I was aboard that ship?”
“Sir?
No, I do not believe he was certain. In fact, he thought this situation could
not happen, that it would be either one or the other who must survive, but it
never occurred to him that you would both survive the… incident.”
“Then
he did not scheme to take my command from me?”
“No
sir. He schemed to take it from Admiral Volsky.”
Karpov
turned, not appreciating that remark, and Tyrenkov could perceive the frost as
he spoke. “Make no mistake, Mister Tyrenkov. That was my command. Volsky was
merely a figurehead aboard for live fire exercises. He was a desk Admiral in
Severomorsk. The ship was mine.”
Again,
his need to use the past tense in that spoke unsaid volumes. Yes, it was once
his, but no longer. He passed a moment with that, the uncomfortable feeling
that he was again standing in another man’s shadow, albeit his own shadow now
in every real sense. Yet it nonetheless made him feel the same way when a
superior rival was in the mix of his life, and his instincts were always geared
at finding a way around the man, a way to undermine and subvert him. But how
could he do that now? Could he ever raise his hand against his very own self?
Yet the
thought that he would muddle about, the outward sign of power that was really
vested in his brother, was very disconcerting. He decided he would wait and see
what developed, but wondered, deep down, what might happen should he ever
their present inventory of aircraft can annoy us, cause casualties, attack the gondolas
and engines, which have only light armor. But we can out climb them, and mostly
out gun them and make them pay a dear price for attacking us. They usually
confine their air operations to ground support and reconnaissance.”
“That
will change soon,” said Karpov. “They have a very well trained naval aviation
corps. I will have to speak with… my brother, to plan our strategy soon.”
“I’m
sure he is eager for that as well, sir.”
Karpov
offered a thin smile. “Tyrenkov… The other men here. How will this be
explained?”
“At the
moment, they have been told nothing. In fact, they believe you are their
commanding Admiral. And why should they think otherwise? In time, I believe it
is the Admiral’s intention to present you as an identical twin brother, which
is not very far from the truth, I suppose.”
The
telephone on the desk rang, and Tyrenkov walked briskly to answer it. “Yes?
Very well, I will inform the Admiral.” He set the receiver in its cradle, and
smiled. “Our Air Commandant Bogrov has reported the ship is in sight. We will
be making our close approach within thirty minutes.”
Karpov
seemed very glad for the news, taking in a deep breath and straightening his
jacket. Kirov would soon be in sight again, beneath him, its tall
battlements and radar domes gleaming in the wan sun. He went to the cabin
window, smiling to see the telltale white wake of a warship ahead, and wishing
he was back aboard.
“I
suppose this is somewhat difficult for you,” said Tyrenkov.
“Somewhat…”
“Do not
fear, Admiral. You will settle into your role here soon enough.”
“Yes,”
said Karpov, “that’s a good way of putting it, isn’t it—my role. This is all
just nice theater for the moment, a little act to keep the men in line. Yes?
Well, do not think of me as a simpleton, or a yes man, Chief Tyrenkov. I saw
the wisdom in what my brother proposed, and I willfully accepted this post.”
“Of
course, sir.”
“I did
not think it came with such perks… that’s quite a samovar there on the side
table.”
“A
gift, sir, from Sergei Kirov.”
“What?
He gets twenty divisions and we get a samovar and five airships? It sounds like
he got much the better of that deal.” Even as he said that, the Captain knew
quite well what else was on the scale in those negotiations—the ship, Kirov ,
the greatest concentration of raw military power on this earth.”
“Did my
brother know I was aboard that ship?”
“Sir?
No, I do not believe he was certain. In fact, he thought this situation could
not happen, that it would be either one or the other who must survive, but it
never occurred to him that you would both survive the… incident.”
“Then
he did not scheme to take my command from me?”
“No
sir. He schemed to take it from Admiral Volsky.”
Karpov
turned, not appreciating that remark, and Tyrenkov could perceive the frost as
he spoke. “Make no mistake, Mister Tyrenkov. That was my command. Volsky was
merely a figurehead aboard for live fire exercises. He was a desk Admiral in
Severomorsk. The ship was mine.”
Again,
his need to use the past tense in that spoke unsaid volumes. Yes, it was once
his, but no longer. He passed a moment with that, the uncomfortable feeling
that he was again standing in another man’s shadow, albeit his own shadow now
in every real sense. Yet it nonetheless made him feel the same way when a
superior rival was in the mix of his life, and his instincts were always geared
at finding a way around the man, a way to undermine and subvert him. But how
could he do that now? Could he ever raise his hand against his very own self?
Yet the
thought that he would muddle about, the outward sign of power that was really
vested in his brother, was very disconcerting. He decided he would wait and see
what developed, but wondered, deep down, what might happen should he ever
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