“Yes, I know,” said Czar Mikhail. Not like he was offended but more like someone touched by an old pain, a very old pain that had touched him many times before. “Good but weak Czar Mikhail, of kind heart and weak will. I know how I am thought of and I often wonder if they are right. Perhaps they are. I didn’t want to be czar. I didn’t want to take sides in this business, either. But I was given little choice in either case. Very well, General Tim. What will Ruslan Andreyivich’s beliefs about me tell him? Do not fear for my feelings. I’ve heard worse and we have more important things to worry about.”
Tim tried. “They will assume we will avoid a fight unless it’s forced upon us. That’s what the princess’ guard captain would have recommended.” It was also what Ruslan Andreyivich would see as Bernie and the czar’s natural inclination. And he wouldn’t be wrong. Tim didn’t think it was actual cowardice on the part of either Bernie or the czar. But they had kind hearts, perhaps even soft hearts. Not so the women. The czarina, the princess, and the servant girl sat in the royal duma like hungry lionesses. Worse, angry lionesses. The gentle hearts of the men might seek peaceful resolution of conflicts, but the women wanted blood.
“So,” said the czarina, “we look like we are sailing on by for as long as we can, then we attack them as fast as we can.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. That is what I recommend and if Ruslan Andreyivich doesn’t listen to Ivan, it just might work.”
* * *
“No, Ivan,” said Captain Ruslan Andreyivich Shuvalov. “It’s a worthy thought and I thank you for it. But it’s not in the czar’s character nor in the up-timer’s. If it was Cass Lowry with the princess, maybe. He would want to charge in, and might even convince her guard captain that it was the best move. But not Bernie and not the czar. They will be looking for a place where they can hide and negotiate. Ufa’s not a bad place for that. Though, I suspect the czar has underestimated the effect of the steamboats.”
Ivan wanted to argue. He was eighteen, after all. But he was a soldier and he owed much of his present position to the patronage of his friend Tim’s family. The captain not only outranked him in military terms but in social terms as well. Besides, the captain had a point. Taking the dirigible would be a considerable risk. Ivan would try it if it were him, but it wasn’t him making the decision. And the captain had another point. They needed everyone working on the dirigible. It would be called upon soon. Either to follow the czar and report on his whereabouts or to ferry the boyars out here. Possibly both. So he let the matter drop.
“Yes, sir,” Ivan agreed. “The forward right side engine bushing replacement is going slowly, but the other three engines are fine and the propeller cowlings are providing extra force. The spark gap radio is still not working and I think we are going to need it. But . . .” Ivan continued his report.
Chapter 82
From Murom to the confluence of the Oka and Volga rivers is about a hundred and thirty miles. They had left Murom at about eight in the morning as the sun was coming up. They had stopped for an hour at the telegraph station. However, they were going downriver, which gave them an extra two miles per hour. So they reached Nizhny Novgorod just before sunset.
The riverboat—more of a barge actually—was flat-bottomed and most of the time carried cargo. It carried quite a bit of cargo now and Czar Mikhail stood on top of the boxes for freight and waved to the people of Nizhny Novgorod as they went by.
Not knowing what else to do, the guards on the walls waved back. There was no question of shooting. The czar’s face was on every ruble note in Russia and there were a lot of notes. There were also a fair number of telescopes by now, and some of them were owned by the citizens of Nizhny Novgorod. The man standing on a box of freight and waving at them was indeed Czar Mikhail and many of the guards on the wall bowed.
The barge and the one following it rounded the bend into the Volga, turning east, and kept going, with the czar of all Russia continuing to wave. The ship was drifting to the north side of the river as it reached the tributary that led to Bor, only a mile or so away. Casually, it turned into that tributary and the czar kept waving. Now he waved to the workmen from the dirigible station. The men and women who had built the dirigible Czarina Evdoka now got to see the real thing, for the czarina had climbed up onto the box beside her husband in full royal regalia and was waving as well. There were even a few cheers.
Whatever silly thing they were doing, it wasn’t attacking. You don’t attack a place by standing in the open in plain sight and waving like a silly idiot. But sometimes you might divert attention from an attack by standing on a box and waving . . . if the circumstances are just right.