was doing… Something about gophers?”
At that Kamenski smiled. “Ah, that was a metaphor I used to try and describe this business with Karpov to the Admiral. Gophers can be very persistent little devils. You see their effects on the surface of your lawn or garden, then dig down to try and expose their tunnel and set your traps. Unfortunately, by that time they have most likely riddled your lawn with even deeper tunnel networks, and your traps will fail.”
“I see,” said Fedorov. “Then Karpov was the gopher?”
“You might think of him that way. We thought he was up to his mischief in 1945, in fact, I read about it in my history books! Then it turns out that he had dug himself an even deeper tunnel, all the way to 1908. That took a good bit of digging to root him out. Now we look and see he is still here.”
“Yes,” said Fedorov, “and still up to no good, if I know the man. But what has this to do with our discussion?”
“The tunnels, the little gopher holes in time,” Kamenski explained. “Karpov is not the only little devil in the garden.”
“I suppose not,” said Fedorov. “I’ve been rooting around in the history myself.”
“And with every good intention,” Kamenski wagged a finger at him. “So don’t go moping about how all of this is your fault again.”
“But it is, sir. I’m responsible. I was the one who warned Sergei Kirov about his own assassination.”
“Yes, we’ve had this discussion,” said Kamenski quickly. “Don’t forget that it was Kirov’s finger on the trigger that killed Josef Stalin, not yours. He was a willful agent, a Prime Mover. He might have decided otherwise, but he didn’t. You see? If he had allowed Stalin to live, then you could not shoulder the blame, could you? So don’t try to carry it now. It was Kirov’s choice. Never forget that. Now, as to those gopher holes I mentioned, you have found one at Ilanskiy. Yes? Well Mister Fedorov, there are others. This is the sum of what Miss Fairchild revealed to you. Correct?”
“Apparently so, sir.”
“Yes, there are others, all possibly created from that event the world endured at Tunguska. This is the theory we came to in some very select circles within the intelligence community.”
“She revealed something very strange, sir—a key that opened the heavy machined doorway in the passage hidden beneath Delphi, and then activated the device she found there. That was how Argos Fire moved in time, or so I finally learned.”
“I understand,” said Kamenski. “A key you say? Would it look anything like this?” Now Kamenski reached into his pocket and produced a key, and Fedorov’s eyes widened when he saw it looked identical to the one Fairchild had shown them.
“Yes, Miss Fairchild is a Keyholder,” said Kamenski, “and now you will learn that I am a Keyholder as well. Seeing is believing.”
Fedorov was flabbergasted. “You sir? A Keyholder? Miss Fairchild said nothing about this! How is it possible?”
“She said nothing about it because she simply didn’t know. The Keyholders are a very select group, yet they do not even know who else may hold a key, or how many there may be. You are the only other person on this earth who now knows that I possess this key. I was about to tell Admiral Volsky once, when the two of us were huddled in the command bunkers beneath Naval Headquarters at Fokino. We were discussing a good many things, and waiting on the outcome of your mission to the Caspian.”
“How did you find it, sir?”
“A very long story, Mister Fedorov. Suffice it to say we acquired it. Intelligence services collect more than information, you know.”
“I see…” As the shock subsided, Fedorov suddenly realized something about this revelation. “But sir,” he said. “I was under the impression that these Keyholders were all members of the group Admiral Tovey founded—the Watch.”
“Interesting. Miss Fairchild told you that?”
“She implied it—or perhaps I jumped
At that Kamenski smiled. “Ah, that was a metaphor I used to try and describe this business with Karpov to the Admiral. Gophers can be very persistent little devils. You see their effects on the surface of your lawn or garden, then dig down to try and expose their tunnel and set your traps. Unfortunately, by that time they have most likely riddled your lawn with even deeper tunnel networks, and your traps will fail.”
“I see,” said Fedorov. “Then Karpov was the gopher?”
“You might think of him that way. We thought he was up to his mischief in 1945, in fact, I read about it in my history books! Then it turns out that he had dug himself an even deeper tunnel, all the way to 1908. That took a good bit of digging to root him out. Now we look and see he is still here.”
“Yes,” said Fedorov, “and still up to no good, if I know the man. But what has this to do with our discussion?”
“The tunnels, the little gopher holes in time,” Kamenski explained. “Karpov is not the only little devil in the garden.”
“I suppose not,” said Fedorov. “I’ve been rooting around in the history myself.”
“And with every good intention,” Kamenski wagged a finger at him. “So don’t go moping about how all of this is your fault again.”
“But it is, sir. I’m responsible. I was the one who warned Sergei Kirov about his own assassination.”
“Yes, we’ve had this discussion,” said Kamenski quickly. “Don’t forget that it was Kirov’s finger on the trigger that killed Josef Stalin, not yours. He was a willful agent, a Prime Mover. He might have decided otherwise, but he didn’t. You see? If he had allowed Stalin to live, then you could not shoulder the blame, could you? So don’t try to carry it now. It was Kirov’s choice. Never forget that. Now, as to those gopher holes I mentioned, you have found one at Ilanskiy. Yes? Well Mister Fedorov, there are others. This is the sum of what Miss Fairchild revealed to you. Correct?”
“Apparently so, sir.”
“Yes, there are others, all possibly created from that event the world endured at Tunguska. This is the theory we came to in some very select circles within the intelligence community.”
“She revealed something very strange, sir—a key that opened the heavy machined doorway in the passage hidden beneath Delphi, and then activated the device she found there. That was how Argos Fire moved in time, or so I finally learned.”
“I understand,” said Kamenski. “A key you say? Would it look anything like this?” Now Kamenski reached into his pocket and produced a key, and Fedorov’s eyes widened when he saw it looked identical to the one Fairchild had shown them.
“Yes, Miss Fairchild is a Keyholder,” said Kamenski, “and now you will learn that I am a Keyholder as well. Seeing is believing.”
Fedorov was flabbergasted. “You sir? A Keyholder? Miss Fairchild said nothing about this! How is it possible?”
“She said nothing about it because she simply didn’t know. The Keyholders are a very select group, yet they do not even know who else may hold a key, or how many there may be. You are the only other person on this earth who now knows that I possess this key. I was about to tell Admiral Volsky once, when the two of us were huddled in the command bunkers beneath Naval Headquarters at Fokino. We were discussing a good many things, and waiting on the outcome of your mission to the Caspian.”
“How did you find it, sir?”
“A very long story, Mister Fedorov. Suffice it to say we acquired it. Intelligence services collect more than information, you know.”
“I see…” As the shock subsided, Fedorov suddenly realized something about this revelation. “But sir,” he said. “I was under the impression that these Keyholders were all members of the group Admiral Tovey founded—the Watch.”
“Interesting. Miss Fairchild told you that?”
“She implied it—or perhaps I jumped
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