Authors: John Schettler
“Where are these mining concerns you speak of?”
“Up near Vanavara, sir, which is very surprising. Those old mines there are a thousand kilometers away from this new operational base Karpov seems to be setting up at Ilanskiy, and we all know the Siberians have very few trucks to waste in hauling mineral ore half way across Siberia.”
“Indeed,” said Kirov, a light of understanding in his eyes now, though he said nothing more.
Part XI
The Gordian Knot
“Prometheus is action. Hamlet is hesitation… In Hamlet the will is more tied down yet; it is bound by previous meditation--the endless chain of the undecided. Try to get out of yourself if you can! What a Gordian knot is our reverie.”
―
Victor Hugo
Chapter 31
Elena
Fairchild was not satisfied. The conversation she had with Admiral Tovey had done nothing but deepen the mystery, and the dilemma she now found herself in. It was not simply the shock and amazement over what had happened to the ship, or even the deep, residual guilt she felt when she left those oil tankers adrift in that uncertain future.
The moment she received that fleet order on the Red Phone, the thrum of anxiety had redoubled. Her nerves had been jangled by the imminent outbreak of war, and their hurried mission to close a deal with Salase and complete that oil shipment would have been enough for anyone to cope with. When that order came, however, directing her to Delphi, she had been very perplexed. It was blunt and simple:
Keyholder Alpha to designated mission point. Godspeed.
It was one of those things that had always been lurking in the background, and something she never quite grasped in its entirety. The duty had been handed to her, officially, just six months before she met Salase, when she was in home port, anchored off her corporate headquarters facility at Port Erin on the Isle of Man. She had gone ashore that day, thinking to have a bite of fish and chips at a favorite little restaurant near the old railway station and museum. The Port Erin Diner was a simple place, in an eggshell yellow building with the familiar green sign. Right next door was “The Station,” serving pure brewed traditional ales, and she would have a pint herself after lunch.
But the dark, official looking car that pulled up outside, and the man in a naval uniform with that briefcase, spelled trouble from the moment she saw them. Instead she was sought out by the young officer, a special courier, and told that she was to take delivery of the briefcase and its contents, and that he was not to leave her presence until he was satisfied that a security team was present to escort her safely back to the ship.
Once aboard
Argos Fire
she sat in her secure office, staring at that briefcase for some time before she mustered the determination to get on with it and open the damn thing. Inside she found a small manila envelope, and equally terse instructions.
Now designated Keyholder Alpha. Contents to be worn on person at all times. Mission point briefing to follow.
The briefing had designated Delphi, and specifically the shrine itself, as her mission point, and gave instructions on how she was to excavate the site should she ever be called to carry out this mission. No further explanation was given, and for some time nothing more came of the matter.
It was just another of the many riddles and mysteries surrounding her induction into the Watch. The things she had learned had been deeply shocking, and her life was never quite the same afterwards. Once she had tried to unburden herself to Captain MacRae, Gordon, the man who had become much more than her able ship’s commander in recent weeks. She had always admired him, and knew that behind that admiration, another feeling lurked in the background, an attraction that she found impossible to dismiss. She had kept it hidden behind the protocols of running the ship, and conducting company business, but she could feel, with that intuition women are famous for, that there was something in his gaze at times, something in the tone of his voice, that was more than simple ship’s business.
At first she hesitated to say anything at all about her role—the secret office, the Red Phone, the Watch, the mission that she had been sent on as they were harried from the Black Sea on the eve of war. Then she knew that Gordon would inevitably be at the center of anything that happened, and to be effective, he would need to know more. But how to reveal the truth, the life changing truth that the world they were living in was something quite different than any of them ever imagined? How to explain it, that this moment was never lost on its endless movement forward in time? It was connected, always, to every other moment of the past, and every moment yet to unfold from an unknown future.
But why here, she thought. Clearly that device I retrieved from Delphi had but one purpose, and that was to somehow move this ship to this point in time. She had long known that such displacement in time was possible. She was one of the very few that knew this, a burden that seemed almost impossible to carry at times. Information had come to them long ago—information from the future. It had first served to persuade them as to its authenticity, quoting events that were yet to happen, chapter and verse. And then it had become a warning, of a ship, the very ship the Watch itself had been determined to wait for, and find—
Geronimo
.
Now it was here, steaming a thousand meters off their port quarter. But why was
she
here? What was she supposed to accomplish in this time? Was
Argos Fire
merely called to arms in this hour of need. Was she sent here to try and somehow save this strangely altered world she now found herself in? To find that they had moved, slipping from one of those cross-stitched moments in time to another, was amazing enough. But why this moment? And what about that note she had found, signed by Admiral Tovey himself?
I’ve gone from Keyholder Alpha to Watchstander G1, she thought. Yet I haven’t really any idea of what my responsibilities are for either role. It was clear now that the Keyholders were meant to be moved in time. How many were there? Were they all out there on similar missions? Where were they going with the keys that had hung about their neck? What would they open? Were there other places, hidden vaults, mysterious boxes and devices seeded in the world by people from our own future? What was the intent of all of this? Why this time, right in the middle of WWII?
I thought I would finally get my answer when I took this to Admiral Tovey, but he seemed completely in the dark. He had no recollection of ever writing the note I found in that device, and how could he? This John Tovey was living a full year before he had ever even founded his secret group, the Watch.
It became even stranger for her when Tovey had confided that information about the reports, documents, and photographs in the archive at Bletchley Park. An anomaly… She had been told such things might happen. They had told us it was possible, those unseen voices from the future. Things sometimes slip, they become unhinged, they pass through cracks and holes, and turn up in most unexpected places. That was all she had learned about it, and all she knew. Yet her curiosity would not let it go.
For years she had taken in all this incredible information, never seeing the entire picture, but always being asked to hold a brush. Now she was doing much more than simply standing her watch. Yes, now she had that brush in hand, and she was being asked to paint on the canvass of this history. She knew that her very presence here was an offense. The
Argos Fire
did not belong here, nor did
Geronimo
,
Kirov
, the ship… Yet here they were, actively intervening in the events that were unfolding, as if they were at war with destiny. Were they sent here to merely hold the line? What was their real purpose? The Russians tell me that this was all an accident, but clearly my presence here was very well planned…
We’ve turned back the tide for a while, she thought. Yet now we sail west for Gibraltar. I wonder how long this has been planned? Is this my mission now, to simply serve here in the midst of this war? How long will we have to stand
this
watch?
She remembered telling Gordon all this, and expressing her curiosity about Delphi… “
That box we found at Delphi… It’s been nagging at me,”
she had told him….
“It’s a nice little mystery, isn’t it? So there are other keys out there, Gordon, and yes, they may open other hidden doors, or even other little boxes like the one we found at Delphi. And they may lead to some very unexpected places. This is all we know.”
“Interesting,”
said MacRae.
“Yes, and now that I’ve got your curiosity up with my own, I was wondering something—whether that chamber under Delphi is still there.”
“You mean you don’t know when it was built?”
“Not at all. In fact, I’m not even sure it exists in this go round—in this world where we find ourselves now. But this damn key of mine exists, and for every key there’s a locked door out there somewhere. I wonder…”
“Well you could satisfy yourself,”
MacRae told her.
“Delphi isn’t very far away.”
Yes, she could get up there with the X-3s again and have a look. What would she find? Was that hidden chamber there, buried beneath the shrine? Something told her now that she would be disappointed if she tried that. What would she possibly find there, the box that she already had in her possession at that very moment? No, that would be impossible. Then she remembered the question Gordon had asked her that day.
“What about the other key? What was it to be used for?”
Yes! The other key! She could hear her own voice to Gordon in reply.
“The key that was found in the Elgin Marbles? We never discovered that, because it was lost, in May of 1941, the 27th of May, to be precise.”
It was aboard HMS
Rodney
, bound for Boston to have those dodgy boiler tubes replaced. It was there when the ship sailed, but missing when it finally reached Boston. Somewhere on that journey, and through the fire of that engagement with
Bismarck
, that key was lost.
That thought struck her like a hammer.
27 May, 1941.
Why, here she was in that very same month! Yes! I told Gordon we knew the exact day that other key was lost, because it was aboard HMS
Rodney
, meant to be shipped secretly to Boston, along with all that gold bullion hidden in the battleship’s belly. That was right in the middle of the hunt for the
Bismarck
. The Admiralty was pulling every ship they could get their hands on into that action, but things are very different now. In that history the
Bismarck
was trying to run the Denmark Strait off Iceland, yet now it is right here… in the Med… running west for Gibraltar with a very big friend in the
Hindenburg
, and by god, yes, that’s where
Argos Fire
is too!
Could this be the reason we were sent here? Does it have something to do with that last remaining key? It suddenly occurred to her that the key could be out there at this very moment. It was in the Selene Horse! The custodians at the British Museum always knew that the key existed. It had been a mystery for some time, though it was known only to a very few. Yet it was thought to be an oddity, and never explained, until we started receiving those messages from the future, years later…. The keys were very important, they were essential,
critical
, and they must all be found and accounted for…
One thought tumbled on another in her mind now. This is my mission! This is what I’m here for. HMS
Rodney
is out there somewhere, and if anything in this topsy-turvy world holds true to the history I know, then her hold is bloated with gold bullion, and the Elgin Marbles are there. The key is right there with them, in the base of the Selene Horse.
She suddenly realized she needed to know everything possible about the whereabouts of
Rodney
, and who better to ask but Mack Morgan. In a heartbeat she pressed her intercom, buzzing Morgan’s office two decks above.
“Mack? I want some information. Contact Admiral Tovey on the
Invincible
if you need to do so, but be discrete. I want to know where the battleship
Rodney
is at this moment, as quickly as possible, but get it right.”
“Aye, Mum. I can’t say as I’m privy to Admiralty ship schedules, but I’ll see what Tovey knows.”
“Good. Find out what we’re looking at in a few days, will you?”
“Right now we’re looking at a significant airborne contact off Sicily. I was just about to beat the crew to quarters.”
“We’re under attack?”
“Not just yet. The Sampson radar has a good long range, but I’ve about fifty contacts out there that don’t look like a welcoming committee.”
“Very well. Inform the bridge. Then get me that information on the
Rodney
—as soon as you can.”
***
Where
was
Rodney?
Tovey had been wondering that himself, particularly when Somerville had informed him the ship was recalled to Home Fleet. So he had taken
Nelson
and
Valiant
, promising two ships to Somerville in return, and he thought little more about it until Mack Morgan’s request came in, edged with just a note or two of urgency.
He went down to the W/T Room to catch up on signals traffic from Admiralty, and it wasn’t long before he found what he was looking for. There was an old message there that he had taken no notice of. It was orders for
Rodney
:
‘On arrival in the Clyde refuel with all dispatch and prepare to leave harbor again’.