a file on your computer. You have two options. The first is save with replace—that’s what Paradox does, or what it should have done here. This Karpov in Siberia should not have survived Paradox Hour. He should have been removed from the continuum, erased, annihilated to allow for first arrival to occur, which was an imperative. If he did survive, as your intelligence chief here believes, then it was like a save as a separate file. It’s like two versions of the same novel residing on your hard drive, even though one may have revisions and material added that the other lacks. They’re both the same story, but slightly different, and they both exist. I believe all the legends concerning the existence of Doppelgangers may have arisen from this, and it appears we’ve got a case like this on our hands now, and a very dangerous one.”
“Astounding,” said Tovey. “A Doppelganger. Lord knows that man Karpov was more than enough trouble here the first time through the tube. Now he’s riding the train again! Why, he would have no knowledge of the delicate alliance we made with the Russians. In fact, the first time around he went to war with the Royal Navy. Could that happen again?”
“That’s quite possible. This situation is very perilous. It must be handled very carefully.”
“Good Lord,” said Tovey. “I’ve got ships up there teeing up the Dervish Convoy operation to Murmansk. It’s very likely that Russian ship will soon spot them with their advanced radars. I should get word out to all fleet units about this.”
“Well,” said Elena. “This Captain Karpov is standing by this very moment. Shall we have a chat with him?”
As if in an eerie response to Elena’s suggestion, the radio speaker crackled and the voice of Nikolin was heard again. “BCG Kirov standing by. Do you still copy HMS Invincible. Read Back for Check. Over.”
“Be very cautious,” said Dorland, looking at the Admiral. “It’s likely that this man does not yet know what has happened to his ship. Things are riding on the razor’s edge just now, and they could easily tip one way or another.”
Chapter 35
Far away, in the tumult of the storm as Tunguska approached Moscow, Professor Dorland’s theory had been put to a most exacting test, for another Prime Mover in all these events, Vladimir Karpov, lay on the floor of his stateroom aboard the airship Tunguska. There came a bump and a shudder, the glowing energy striking the ship and sending that luminescent glow through its bones, as if an X-Ray had been taken. Yet, within that metal skeleton, the exotic particles mined from the river valley the ship was named for stood as that one missing factor in Dorland’s equation.
Yes, Karpov was a Prime Mover, a Free Radical, and a key initiator of so many of these deep variations that had so violated the continuum. Time did not look kindly on the man, and the stabbing pain he had felt in his chest was the cold, steely grasp of her jealous and spiteful hand, clawing at his soul and wanting it crushed to oblivion. But like the radio sets that had been spared from annihilation when the hour of Paradox finally transpired, Karpov was there aboard Tunguska as it skipped out of the here and now, into the ethereal realm of Elsewhere, if only for the barest moment. Then the ship shuddered with the roll of deep thunder, lightning rippling through the dark clouds, and returned, just as it was, impervious, immune, unbowed by time and the tumultuous tides of wind and sky.
It was the very same effect that had also served to preserve the unique life and mind of one Anton Fedorov, for at that moment, when the Admiral and crew of Kirov finally faced the advent of Paradox, Fedorov held a strange artifact in his pocket, the key that had been deliberately left on that nightstand for him to find by Director Kamenski. It had served to keep the Director safe through many similar riptides of fate, preserving his memories over the years, though the world had changed around him many, many times.
And old man at the end of a long and very full life, Kamenski had finally grown tired of his days as a Keyholder, and he had found in Fedorov the perfect young protégé, a man with a keen and curious mind, and a penchant for sorting through the confounding mystery of time. He left no note, and said no farewell, but