The region known in Russia as Primorye—what others called the Maritime Province—was a strategic prize that made Russian officials practically drool.
Not merely because it offered access to the sea.
Its geography alone made it priceless.
The territory wrapped around the northeastern frontier of the Qing Empire, while the Tumen River in the southwest connected it directly to Korea.
Whoever controlled the region could pressure both neighbors while simultaneously gaining a foothold for naval expansion into the Pacific.
Its geopolitical value was immense.
In fact, historians would later argue that if Russia had not obtained Primorye during the Second Opium War, it would have taken the territory by force sooner or later.
Even during Britain's recent war with the Qing Empire, many intellectuals believed that if the conflict had dragged on just a little longer, Russia would likely have intervened.
In hindsight, Russian strategists probably regretted not aligning with Britain earlier.
Had they known how weak the Qing Empire truly was, they might have joined the war from the beginning.
And now—
Britain was offering to look the other way while Russia seized Primorye.
Naturally, that was an irresistible proposition for the Russian foreign minister.
If the conditions were reasonable, he would likely accept almost anything.
Of course.
That depended entirely on what "reasonable" meant.
"Please wait a moment," said Karl Nesselrode, raising a hand.
"Even so… that demand is rather excessive."
"Is it?" I asked calmly.
"Of course it is!"
Nesselrode's composure finally cracked as he stared at the spot my finger indicated on the map.
"Do you have any idea how valuable Alaska is? Asking for it outright is absurd!"
It was a perfectly natural reaction.
Even a thief would hesitate to propose such brazen terms.
"If Primorye were British territory, perhaps I could understand," Nesselrode continued. "A territorial exchange would make sense in that case."
"But Primorye belongs to the Qing Empire. You are offering to ignore Russia's seizure of someone else's land—and in return you demand Alaska?"
"That is hardly reasonable."
If Alaska fell into British hands, Britain could establish military bases there and threaten Russia directly.
And given the overwhelming disparity in forces available in North America, Russia could hardly ignore such a threat.
"But consider this," I said calmly.
"We are willing to concede Primorye because we believe it will eventually fall into Russian hands anyway."
"Alaska is no different."
"Canada continues to expand westward. If matters proceed unchecked, Britain and Russia may eventually clash over that region."
"And I believe you understand how that conflict would end."
Nesselrode hesitated.
"…You make a fair point."
If conflict erupted over Primorye, Russia would likely prevail.
But if the dispute concerned Alaska?
Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, Britain would win.
On a map, Alaska appeared closer to Russia than to Britain.
But that was deceptive.
Russia's military power was concentrated around Moscow.
Sending reinforcements from Moscow to Alaska would require a journey comparable to marching an army from Korea to Baghdad.
And unlike Britain, Russia had no viable maritime route.
The Arctic passage was impractical.
Meaning any reinforcements would have to travel overland through Siberia.
Without a transcontinental railway—which Russia lacked both the technology and the finances to build—such a campaign was nearly impossible.
Meanwhile, Canada's population was growing at an astonishing pace.
Britain would hardly need to send troops at all.
Even in another timeline, Russia eventually sold Alaska because it knew Britain might seize it someday.
But in this world, the United States lacked the capacity to purchase or develop the territory.
And Canada was expanding rapidly.
The strategic calculation was obvious.
Trading Alaska for Primorye would benefit Russia far more.
Of course, asking them to give it away for free would be outrageous.
Negotiation required starting high.
"From your perspective," I continued, "Britain is making a grand gesture with land that does not belong to us."
"But naturally, if we reach an agreement, we will not simply stand aside."
"For example—if France attempts to intervene, we will ensure they do not."
"And if the war escalates beyond control, Britain will mediate between Russia and the Qing Empire."
"Under the condition, of course, that Primorye is ceded to Russia."
Nesselrode's expression improved slightly.
Under these terms, Russia could seize Primorye without serious opposition.
If Britain blocked French intervention, no European power would challenge Russia's expansion.
And if Britain mediated the peace settlement in Russia's favor, the Qing Empire would ultimately have little choice but to accept the outcome.
"…Even so," Nesselrode said slowly, "handing over Alaska is still—"
"Then let us adjust the arrangement."
"You need not give Alaska away."
"You may sell it to us at a fair price."
"In that case, Russia effectively gains Primorye without spending a single ruble."
Nesselrode leaned forward.
"A sale, you say?"
"The price will be important."
In another history, Russia sold Alaska to the United States for just $7.2 million.
Even then it was considered cheap.
Converted into pounds, that amounted to slightly over £1.4 million.
Adjusting for inflation in this era…
"Would £1.2 million be acceptable?" I suggested.
"That seems fair."
"£1.2 million?" Nesselrode exclaimed. "That is far too cheap!"
Frankly, I agreed.
But the pound was extraordinarily strong in this era.
In British terms, the price seemed reasonable.
"That is hardly cheap," I said calmly.
"£1.2 million could finance the construction of the Liverpool–Manchester Railway six times over."
"If Russia can sell land it cannot defend for that price, surely that is a remarkable profit."
Nesselrode frowned.
"Still… £1.2 million is too little."
"Then how about £1.3 million?"
"£1.5 million," he countered.
"£1.35 million," I replied. "Let us compromise there."
"And in return, Britain will discreetly provide intelligence that may assist Russia in occupying Primorye."
"That information alone would be worth more than £150,000."
Nesselrode stroked his chin.
"What kind of intelligence?"
"Practical battlefield data," I said.
"Our recent war with the Qing Empire produced useful operational insights."
"It will prove helpful."
Nesselrode considered the offer carefully.
"£1.35 million for Alaska… frankly, it is still cheap."
"But if it guarantees a secure acquisition of Primorye…"
"And that is not the only advantage," I added.
"If Britain acquires Alaska, we eliminate a potential source of future conflict."
"How long must our two empires continue exhausting themselves in pointless rivalry?"
"Perhaps it is time to pursue a more constructive relationship."
Nesselrode nodded slowly.
"I cannot disagree with that."
Of course, no amount of diplomatic charm would prevent the future clash between Russia and the Ottoman Empire.
The Crimean War would still come eventually.
But that was more than a decade away.
For now, diplomacy required smiles and compliments.
Politics was like that.
And though I did not mention it aloud, Russia's expansion into Primorye would also place Korea within its sphere of influence.
Japan would feel the pressure as well.
If Russia advanced southward, both nations would be forced to respond.
In the long run, Russia's move would give Britain the perfect excuse to establish stronger influence across Northeast Asia.
And if Britain also secured Alaska?
That would be the ideal outcome.
Two victories with a single stroke.
Convincing the Prime Minister
"What did you say?"
Charles Wellesley stared at me incredulously.
"You agreed to let Russia seize Primorye in exchange for purchasing Alaska?"
"It was an excellent deal," I replied calmly.
"This brings the entire northern half of North America under British control."
"That may be true," Wellesley said, "but we are paying £1.35 million and permitting Russian naval expansion."
"Is that truly worth the price?"
"Russia acquiring Primorye is inevitable," I said.
In theory, strengthening Qing China or Korea might prevent it.
But there was little reason for Britain to do so.
Wellesley sighed.
"We have spent decades preventing Russia from gaining a warm-water port."
"Opposition will be fierce."
"You must look beyond the present."
"Russia's expansion into Primorye will actually provide Britain with an excuse to expand influence throughout Northeast Asia."
"If the opposition complains, tell them exactly that."
Wellesley rubbed his temples.
"Even if we accept that argument…"
"Where will the £1.35 million come from?"
"People will say we should build another railway at home rather than buy a frozen wasteland."
"Private investors," I replied.
"Excuse me?"
"We will raise the funds from private investors."
"If natural resources are discovered in Alaska, those investors will receive partial mining rights."
"And if no one is interested?"
I smiled faintly.
"Then I will simply endure the criticism myself."
Wellesley shook his head.
"This entire plan sounds reckless."
"Who would invest money in such a frozen wasteland?"
I resisted the urge to laugh.
Because at least one such fool definitely existed.
Me.
If anyone else tried to buy Alaska, it would complicate matters.
So the moment the investment announcement appeared, I would simply have James submit the entire amount.
£1.35 million.
At this point, I could easily afford it.
And this was exactly the sort of opportunity money was meant for.
The cost of building the Liverpool–Manchester Railway six times—
in exchange for controlling the natural resources of Alaska?
How could anyone resist such a bargain?
After all.
A frozen wasteland like that…
was simply too good to pass up.