The Zeitsev

by Michael Hart

conclusion

Official reports had always claimed that Russia was winning, so Alexei chose his words carefully. A week ago he never would have imagined questioning the reports in front of a party member. But as he walked along the abandoned dock toward an abandoned battleship that would save the world, Alexei felt things had truly come to a head.

“I’ve overheard the men grumbling, especially in recent months. They’re my only consistent contact with the outside world, I’m afraid.” Alexei took a deep breath and plowed on. “Some are saying there is no front. That the enemies are attacking everywhere.” He could no longer look Chitnik in the eye as he continued. “And some say we aren’t battling foreign enemies at all. That this is in fact a civil war. That faith in the party of the People has been challenged.” Alexei looked to Chitnik in a way that begged to be proven wrong.

“There is a front, Captain. It surrounds our borders and is constantly threatening us from above. But as I said, the enemy does not use a traditional army. His weapons have been testing our borders for decades, often slipping through. Despite our efforts to protect the people, they are always targets, even in their own homes. As technology and communications improve, so too does the enemy’s ability to infiltrate. They’ve been making spies and traitors out of Russians for years. We’ve been fighting a battle we are doomed to lose.”

As they stepped aboard, Alexei tried to exude a sense of pride and ownership. “At least she’s been given an appropriate name, if she’s going to save Mother Russia.”

“She’s going to save the world, Captain. And you know nothing about her name.”

Alexei had been leading the Commissar up to his quarters, but was taken aback by Chitnik’s increasingly bitter tone, and offended by how little credit Chitnick gave him regarding Russian history.

“This ship was not named after Vassily Zeitsev, as most would assume. It was named after Mikhail Zeitsev.”

Alexei thought for a moment, and then gave up.

“Don’t worry, it is a forgotten name. He is a black eye on our past, a general who oversaw our efforts in Afghanistan in the 1980’s. The war bankrupted and humiliated the Soviet Union. It slowly strangled us until control could no longer be kept, and the Union was lost.”

As they ascended the cold metallic stairs, Alexei could not ignore the hollow echoes of their footsteps, and felt that he and the Commissar were the last two people in an empty world. Chitnik motioned for Alexei to keep moving. Sensing Alexei’s confusion, he begrudgingly continued his explanation. “The ship was named while it was being built. It was meant to be a tribute to our great general. They never imagined what a mess he would make of things.

“As the government was crumbling, the Zeitsev’s role was changed. Those who know its true namesake and its true purpose view the title as an indicator. An indicator of when its powers must be used, and a warning of what can happen if we don’t use them.”

Alexei and Chitnik entered the Captain’s quarters, and Alexei held his breath as he opened his safe for the first time. A small booklet and a round metal disk were all that rested inside.

“Excellent. Exactly as it should be,” Chitnik remarked. Alexei examined the intricate indentations up and down the disk. “It’s a key, Captain.” Chitnik motioned to Alexei. “I cannot waste any time. Take me to the lower deck.”

The door to the Orange Chamber, back down three flights of stairs, marked the final frontier of Alexei’s familiarity with his ship. The size of the door alone wasn’t what made it intimidating. The security software that he so often studied and the shiny steel bars warned potential intruders not to even try it.

Chitnik snatched the codebook from him and pulled out a set of papers from his breast pocket. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

“Commissar, I must know...”

“Quiet!” Chitnik barked, his eyes rushing back and forth between the codebook and his own papers. He began typing on the keypad in the center of the door, and lights from the door’s perimeter illuminated the two of them. They were prompted to enter their government ID numbers. As he mopped his brow, Chitnik nodded to Alexei to comply.

“Access granted,” flashed across the screen. Heavy thuds reverberated through Alexei’s ears and the bottom of his feet as the steel reinforcements were removed. The door moaned its way outward, inviting them in. One by one, a row of bright ceiling lights illuminated the chamber. Chitnik let out a breath and cleaned his glasses on his shirt. He turned to Alexei as he was about to enter, but Alexei stood firm.

“I need to know!”

“Come see for yourself,” Chitnik replied as he proceeded into the chamber.

Alexei couldn’t hold back for long, and he suspected the Commissar knew this. His fate had already been decided by men who were far away from the Zeitsev at that moment. Yet despite it all, he still feared that the powerful prize, which had held him together for five years, would turn out to be a grand disappointment.

The Orange Chamber was almost as long as the ship itself, with higher ceilings than those on the upper decks. Its simple, pale yellow walls were lined with dozens of sturdy looking black crates, which reminded Alexei of oversized coffins. In the center of the room stood a silver metallic cylinder the size of a washing machine. It was enveloped with wires of different colors and was connected to another black crate, like the ones lining the walls. Alexei gravitated toward it as Chitnik had already done.

“This is it, Captain Kavalev. When it was first designed by the Soviets, the ship had sensors that would detect radiation levels in the air. If the levels got high enough, it would undoubtedly mean that the Soviet Union had fallen victim to a nuclear strike. The Zeitsev was to be a farewell gift to the rest of the world. After all, a world without communism doesn’t deserve to exist.

“Of course, that strike never came. The Soviets defeated themselves, with a little help from the same enemy that we face now. When the democratic government seized control of this nation they disarmed the sensors, but they weren’t sure what to do with the rest of the ship. Their so-called ‘red tape’ delayed them too long. Now that the power has been rightfully restored to the People, the weapon is in our hands!”

Alexei was silent. “It’s a bomb, Captain. The Zeitsev was designed to look like an old battleship to avoid drawing attention from enemy spies and satellites. But all it is, all it was ever meant to be, is one great big dirty bomb,” Chitkik pointed around the chamber, “with enough radioactive material to put the planet into Nuclear Winter. It will poison the atmosphere, destroy almost all life, and force any survivors to go underground.” Chitnik saw Alexei’s ashen face. “Don’t you see? It’s a chance for us to start over. All the old institutions will be obliterated.”

Chitnik began flipping switches, perspiring worse than before. “You’ll need that key.” He held-up his own disk-like key as if to demonstrate. He again noticed Alexei’s inaction, and took a calming step backward. “Captain... Alexei, you must understand. The Council has reached a final conclusion; our way cannot work in a world where capitalism exists. Our enemy’s ills will always find ways of seeping across borders. Their materialism, their superficial ways; these will always be temptations. They undermine us with fast food, designer clothes, and Hollywood. They’ve been slowly permeating our borders, and have started turning Russians into agents of the West.”

Alexei reluctantly pulled his key out. Two slots rested on either side of the control panel. “Once both keys are in, the reactor will start,” hissed Chitnick as he licked his lips. He inserted his key, and looked Alexei in the eye. “You realize we’ll only have a few minutes. You and I won’t survive the blast, which is actually for the best, if you take my meaning.”

“What about the Council?”

“Far underground, along with a select few. They have enough supplies to last for decades. When they emerge, a new civilization will be started.”

Alexei squeezed his key, terrified of the ridiculous possibility of accidentally dropping it right into the slot. This is suicide, and I’m taking everyone else with me, he thought.

“Just put it in, Captain. Those are orders right from the top. There are others out there who know of this weapon. People from the old government who might want to stop us. They could be on their way as we speak.”

Alexei glanced around at the menacing contraption that had been lying right underneath his nose. “But everyone from back home? They should go underground too! I just think...”

“No! You don’t think! The Council has done all the thinking. They chose you for the assignment because of your loyalty. They knew you would do what was necessary if this situation arose. You are a Captain in the Russian Navy! You have been given orders from the People’s Council!”

Alexei gripped the key even tighter, not ready to make up his mind. The Commissar’s patience had reached its limit. He took a step back and produced a small pistol. “I’ll put it in for you if I have to.”

“Then why bother arguing? Why wait?”

“I was hoping it wouldn’t end like this. You’ve earned the right to see the mission through.” Alexei held the key over the slot. “Besides,” Chitnik said with a touch of sympathy, “no one should have to die alone. Not out here. Not like this.” The reminder of his imminent, violent death caused him to hesitate once again.

“Alexei, you will die tonight. This is a certainty. But you can choose how you will die. You and I will start a new history! We are the most important people in the world right now.” Alexei squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head slightly. “Alexei, what would your great-grandfather have done?”

Alexei decided to stop thinking. He would just do. The key seemed heavier, but he forced it toward the slot. Fighting every instinct in every fiber in his body, he held his breath and slid it in. The reactor rumbled like an engine. The ship came alive as if for the first time, like an old man emerging from a lifelong coma. Alexei looked to Chitnik helplessly, as if he had done something wrong. Chitnik gave everything one last inspection, and appeared satisfied. Alexei’s basic survival instincts took over, and he began to run.

“Alexei, wait!” Chitnik shouted as he chased him out of the chamber and up the stairs. Alexei was covering ground much faster when Chitnik shouted, “It was just a test!” Alexei froze. “A test of your loyalty to the Council, and you passed.” Chitnik raised his arms toward Alexei in a proud, congratulatory fashion. “We are perfectly safe, Captain. Or should I say, Commissar.”

Alexei felt every emotion rush through him at once. He backed away as Chitnik came closer, unable to process it all. Through a grimacing mouth he managed to force out, “You stay away from me.”

“Alexei, I know what you’re feeling. I felt the same way when it was my turn.” Alexei stopped pacing, and started to listen. “That’s right. Every senior party member has to pass the ultimate test of loyalty.”

The panic and dread began to subside within him, and Chitnik patted him on the back. He pushed Chitnik’s hand away, though with less disgust. “Come on Alexei, let’s get some fresh air. I’ve never needed a cigarette so much in my life.”

* * *

Alexei looked at the Kara Sea for what he figured would be the last time, trying to breathe through his nose and let relief set in. “This is a great day, Commissar.”

Chitnik remained silent, but exhaled a large puff of smoke and nodded.

The realization that he would finally be done with the ship and the miserable assignment filled him with glee. Patience Alexei, they sent you here for a reason. He had been right all along, and could no longer hide his smug grin. He imagined heading far away from the place. As a commissar, he would be sent somewhere important, somewhere exciting. Who knows, maybe some day I’ll get my own seat on the Council. Only moments ago the terror of an unimaginable situation had flooded his body, yet now his thoughts turned to a revived future.

Alexei knew the Zeitsev would mourn his departure, and he could already hear its lonely protests growing louder from below. Chitnick looked at his watch, then firmly put his hand on Alexei’s shoulder.

Alexei took a drag off his cigarette and closed his eyes. For a split second, he could actually feel the joy rapidly warming his skin. Through his eyelids he could see a bright orange light. In that perfect moment, every fiber in his body was scattered far, far away.