However, the stakes were real here; everybody had skin in the game. A path of what was to do or not emerged in no time. Contacting other local resistance groups was vetoed unanimously. The assassin had found their group too easily. Their only ally was Peter’s doppelganger, but they couldn’t trust him fully. Gathering more information and leveling was the top priority.
When they discussed who would go in a fog, Peter put his foot down. He could Warp only two persons with him, and only one place remained. He chose Regina. Naomi was relieved to stay safe, but Ariana was disappointed. She was interested in trying her powers on the fog monsters. However, Regina proved stronger during the competition and was higher in level.
Now, only the small matter of finding artifacts of importance remained.
Arranging with Naomi and Ariana to cover for them, the two lovers left the camp in the late evening. According to the doppelganger’s map, the portal to Earth-Two was a bit north of the fisheries on Floor Three. Finding it took a bit of scouting because it was camouflaged in a valley. At some point, a truck drove directly into a rock wall and passed through it, finally revealing the location.
After waiting five minutes, they stepped inside the rock. On the other side was a factory’s parking lot. It was night. The truck they followed was parked near a storage area, but otherwise, the facility was empty. Dismissing Stealth, Peter showed Regina a secondary exit, supposedly left unlocked. It was marked on the map and hidden behind a pile of crates. Within seconds, they were outside in a dark alley.
"This is… ugly," she creased her nose, looking at the dilapidated buildings. "Where are we?"
"Upper Manhattan. The portal to Earth One is in Lower Manhattan and exits a few miles from our college. That one is a secret portal. No one but the Resistance knows about it."
"How did they discover it?"
"I dunno," Peter turned his palms up. "The map says: Secret Resistance portal, that's all."
The alley gave into a larger avenue. The buildings looked about the same as in their New York but were less lit, and their plaster was peeling. Many passersby turned their heads to look at Peter and Regina, some directly, some more discreetly.
"Is it the clothes?" she whispered.
Peter shook his head. Their clothes were about the same. The only detail that distinguished them from the crowd was their height. The average person was a head shorter than Peter and three inches than Regina.
"They're so short!" Regina realized. "Wow…"
"During the Middle Ages, the average height was lower than ours," Peter said. “I wonder if it’s because they lack vitamins.”
He stopped speculating and accelerated his steps, making her speed up by taking her arm. A few men, teenagers, were looking in their direction with mean eyes. Fortunately, they didn't follow. To shorten the distance, they cut through Central Park. That area was well-lighted, many blankets were on the lawns, and people were having a picnic. Those looked of normal height.
"Strange," Regina said. "Why are they picnicking so late? They're Vampires or something?"
"Let's hurry," Peter said. "This place gives me the creeps."
Leaving the park, they struggled to find the next portal because the alley marked on the map eluded them. Confused, they stopped after turning around the block for a third time when a man dressed in wrinkled clothes and only half a head shorter than Peter noticed them and asked: "Are you lost, Frenchies?"
"We're not lost," Peter replied, despite their obvious situation.
"We are lost!" Regina blurted. "Men!" she hissed in a lower voice, meaning: Men wouldn't ask for directions if their lives were at stake.
"What are you looking for?"
"An alley between number two hundred sixty and two hundred fifty-eight," Regina said. "It's marked on the map, but… it's just not there."
"Come, I'll show you," the man waved his hand and started walking.
They followed him, stopping a minute later between the two buildings. There still was no alley.
"It's the old subway," the man pointed at an entrance. "I sleep there sometimes. Go down, follow the corridor, and you get up on Broadway. I recommend The Producers. It's the best. Springtime for Hitler is a must-see."
Digging in his pockets, Peter extracted a fifty-dollar bill. It was from Earth One, but there was no difference between them.
"No, man, we're good," the man protested, stepping back. "I have a bit of French blood, too. I know how it is."
"Let's say we're not from here," Peter kept forwarding the bill. "Why do the locals hate the French?"
"You’re Cultivators?" the man asked, gingerly taking the money.
"Something like that," Regina said.
"Kids would be kids… You should keep your robes on. It's about Napoleon. He hired that guy… forgot the name, he invented the vaccines… Let's call him Joe. Napoleon asked Joe to make a virus to kill everyone taller than him. Except the French, of course."
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"Really?" Regina gasped.
"Millions of people died, but the next generations adapted, and humans became shorter. And that's why people hate the French. Adolf—"
"Yes, that Adolf," Peter whispered to Regina.
"—killed a lot of them because of that. You see, he was a head shorter than the average, and there were a lot of complexes. He was batshit crazy. He conquered the US and Canada but failed to enter the Greater Louisiana and Mexico Federation. Napoleon the Ninth's general, De Gaulle, stopped him. People say Aldolf killed himself from spite—that general was very tall and mocked him on TV—and they disguised it as an accident."
"Wow…" Regina and Peter exclaimed in unison.
"So that's the story. That’s why we’re secondhand citizens, don’t have the right to vote, and can go in the parks only by night. I would have emigrated to Louisiana for a better life, but I'm too short to be accepted. Take care," the man said, pocketing the bill and walking away, humming a tune.
"This place is crazy," Regina said.
"Definitely."
Entering the subway, they walked forward for half the passage. It was all that remained of the train station, and access to the platforms had been walled. It was in one of these brick structures that the next portal was built. A faint, barely visible light shone around it, smaller than the previous interdimensional passage.
"Thank goodness!" Regina exclaimed, closing her eyes once they arrived on the other side. It was still day here, and they were inside a storage unit. It had a motorcycle and gear lying around.
"I think it's better to take the bike for the first trip," Peter said. "I'd better conserve my Mana."
"Don't go too fast," she asked.
There were multiple helmets, and she took one while Peter put on his. The bike had its tank full, which was a stroke of luck. Reaching Rutland—Peter's home city—took under an hour. However, they didn't enter it; he took a dirt road and arrived at an abandoned farm. Peter parked the bike in front of a barn. It had a locked chain, but the key was hidden under a wooden bucket.
"My grand grandpa's place," Peter said. "He was a bootlegger—”
“Really?” Regina exclaimed. “How cool!”
“But when the prohibition ended, he bought a lot of land and turned farmer. My folks dream of retiring here and starting a bio farm of sorts. And… here it is," he pointed at a car platform with a large dramatic gesture preceded by a pause, like an actor inviting applause. On the trailer was an old motorboat, rusted and falling apart.
"That's an artifact?" Regina asked.
"If I get it right, old objects with a history behind them will become artifacts once in the fog. My grandgrandpa used that to smuggle booze. Said it was a lucky boat, and the border patrols never caught him. Chances are it'll float in the fog and be invisible."
"And you want to pull it with the bike, fit it somehow into a storage unit that’s smaller, pull in by hand through the subway station and up the stairs, then on the streets of Nazi New York, and finally, to our camp?"
"Err… maybe?" Peter lowered his head between his shoulders. His failproof and glorious plan had more chinks in it than he thought, and now, instead of being awed by his smarts, Regina looked at him like she was somehow disappointed.
"The System is right," Regina said.
Using a few tools, Peter managed to detach the object in about half an hour. He was sweating as she looked at him with great expectation to do his manly stuff and unscrew a few bolts, which were nevertheless rusted. Finally, he raised the headlight triumphantly before storing it in his backpack.
"What now?" he asked.
"Good news or bad news first?" she grinned sheepishly.
"What's going on?"
“We must go to New Orleans to see my grandma," she said. “but the good news is she’s nice and will like you. I left something with her... a poooowerful artifact," she insisted, adding puckering lips and puppy eyes to the equation. "It's worth the effort."
"I hope it does…” Peter bit his lower lip. “OK, let’s try this: We go on the roof and jump as far as I can. I'll chain as many warps as possible."
A ladder was fixed on the farthest wall, which led to a hatch on the roof, which was thirty feet high at the top. Peter stabilized his feet to the ridge's left and right, taking Regina in a princess carry.
"I don't like heights much," she confessed, grabbing his neck.
"Close your eyes."
She did, and she looked so beautiful that Peter stopped to breathe in her sight instead of Warping. She opened her eyes, meeting his.
"I love you," he said, kissing her.
After the kiss, she squeezed herself at his chest. With his heart pumping joy and his body adrenaline, Peter Warped. All went well for the first three jumps, then they arrived in freezing air, a higher altitude than he anticipated. Taking the next jump downward, they arrived over a meadow but in a tailspin. Grabbing hold of Regina to prevent her from sliding away, Peter Warped even lower, a couple of feet above the ground, where then crashed and rolled.
"You OK?" he yelled.
'Yuks…" she wailed, retching.
Peter took her in his arms, caressing her hair. "Sorry... When I tried it alone, it worked better... Let's rest for five minutes."
On his HUD, Peter's Mana was a bit under half. He looked around. "I don't see any landmarks I recognize."
Peter took the next series of jumps slower, from one height to another, or with at most two chained jumps in the air. It took fifteen minutes to reach New Orleans Central Park, with a break for a Mana pill in the middle, and from there, they took a cab for another ten. They stopped at nine in the evening before a small but charming house, and Regina rang the bell.
"Princess!" a woman yelled, grabbing the girl in a hug. "What are you doing here?"
"My school took a trip nearby, and I want you to meet my boyfriend."
"Nice to meet you, Jack," the woman grabbed Peter's hands, shaking them.
"He's Peter. Jack is history…" Regina sulked.
"Hi, Peter," the woman repeated the handshake. A bit shorter than Regina, she appeared to be in her mid-sixties but still fit. "I’m sure you’re much better than the other one. Never trust a blond, I told her. Mysterious dark-haired strangers are always reliable.” Peter giggled. “Come inside." For the next hour, they talked and ate apple pie while drinking homemade iced tea.
"I'll show Peter my room before we go," Regina said.
"You can stay for the night, you know. I won't eavesdrop," the woman winked.
"We can't, Mawmaw. We have to be back in the camp by early morning."
Regina's room was frozen in the recent past of her high school years, with K-pop boy band posters on the walls. It was neatly organized, though, with her things packed in boxes. "I lived here until seventeen," she said. "Pa moved too much around because of his job. And I come to visit every summer… Aha!” she exclaimed in triumph. “Here it is. From immemorable times, our family grigri protection and my favorite teddy bear."
The furry doll shoved in Peter's face was worse than Chucky. It was sizeable and made of disparate parts. The members were real chicken legs, only mummified, eyes made from pale blue stones that stared back at Peter, two real animal fangs in the mouth, claws on the paws, and a rattlesnake's tail.
"You slept with this?" he couldn't help himself from asking.
"Like a log. It has thirteen different protection charms. Think how powerful it is!"
"You're offending Pandy Panda!" Regina clutched the doll to her chest. "It’s a powerful totem. Apologize to it, or it’ll curse you!"
"Pandy Panda? What a nice name," Peter said to distract her from the argument. "Let's move, it's late."
The trip back to Dartmouth College took longer due to the flying precautions and Peter stopping to fill the gas tank. Going through Nazi New York went much faster because Peter decided to Warp and Stealth through it. At one o'clock in the morning, they were sleeping in each other arms in the tent, back on the Third Floor, the sinister teddy bear in between.