For Perry, morning dawns about halfway through the night, when the other him wakes him up for his watch.
The other Perry seems reluctant to pass the sword over, but he does, falling asleep just a few minutes after that.
That leaves Perry to sit and watch the dark woods for bears, robbers, and other unpleasant things.
Of course, there's absolutely nothing and nobody around. He's looking for something weird to happen- of course nothing interesting is going to come along.
Strange things only happen when he isn't looking for them.
Like both of these dimensional messes. The first one had come along when he was in the middle of finishing up grading before a long weekend- and of course, he still hadn't finished that grading, so he had to go in early Monday morning and do it.
Be a teacher, they said. It's rewarding, they said. Nobody mentioned how tedious it can be at times. At least grading and other assorted paperwork is better than dealing with parents.
This time, he had been at Danville Community College with his husband (saying that never gets old), watching and occasionally providing input as Heinz tinkered with Norm's inner workings.
Norm has been acting strange (or at least stranger than usual), so they've been trying to understand what's been going on. So far, they've ruled out any mechanical problems, which means it's in his programming.
Which is a field neither of them have much experience in. Doctor Diminutive had been the one that programmed Norm, so they've only had to do minor bug fixing, up until now.
And all of that was generally things that could be plugged into a search engine, or presented as a "programming challenge" to the senior students at Danville Community College, as Heinz happens to be good friends with Professor von Rodenstein, the head of the computer science department.
Which means for this particular tinkering, they're mostly on their own. Norm's AI is rather advanced, and it's not like they can just ask Diminutive. He's in prison. Max security prison even, all the way out in Bridgeton.
They had been winding down their work with von Rodenstein, when Perry was suddenly snapped into an alternate dimension.
Talk about a "not again" moment. He had almost forgotten that there was a dimension where he's a secret agent teal platypus. (Now there's a sentence. A few years ago, he would have dismissed even the idea of multiple dimensions as ridiculous- he knows better now.)
He definitely wasn't looking for this particular adventure, that's for sure. Not only have they messed with dimensions, but now they're messing with time. Some say that's the fourth dimension- he's just going to stick with length, width, and depth after this, thank you very much.
Which means he's sitting around in a forest holding an authentic sixteenth century sword, something the Smithsonian (or at the very least the Danville History Museum) would probably kill to get their hands on.
He always thought swords were pretty cool because who wouldn't?, although if it came to it, he has no idea how to wield it effectively.
Sure, he still keeps up with a few people from Team USA, but none of the fencers. And this is nothing like a foil, or whatever it's called. (For one, it's much heavier.)
At least they'll look like proper adventurers when they get mauled by a bear, or something.
Or not. Again, he's looking for bears, so of course there's no bears. Or robbers. Or errant knights, or wizards with murderous plants, or whatever else roams the woods in the fifteen hundreds.
He's never researched this time period much. It was never really covered much in school, which means he didn't really bother to look into it more. No time initially, no interest later.
Maybe he'll learn some more about it when he gets home. He's definitely interested now.
Slowly, painstakingly, Perry watches as the sun finally rises, bathing the forest in bright light. It's not a particularly spectacular sunrise, and he'd much rather be asleep at home, but it is still kinda pretty.
And east is that way, good to know. Although it's not like their artifact finding device is lacking a compass.
Perry pulls said device out and fiddles with it. The artifact they're looking for is due southeast, and still quite a ways away.
At least when they go back to the present, they'll only have skipped an hour.
Eventually, the other Perry wakes up, squinting to ward off the light.
Good morning, Perry signs with a wave. How did you sleep?
The other him shrugs. About as well as could be expected.
Perry nods, rolling his shoulders to try and get the stubborn stiffness that comes with sleeping on the ground out.
Both of them sit in silence for a moment, listening to the birdsong and watching as the undergrowth rustles in the light breeze.
Ready to get going? Perry asks after a few minutes have passed and they're both fully awake.
The other him nods, and they both stand up.
Can I have my sword back?
Perry nods, handing it over with a smile. Instantly, he feels lighter- man was that thing heavy.
That, and he's not particularly keen on taking a sword to anything living with the intent to maim, or even kill. The agent is probably much more- well, eager is completely the wrong word, but maybe more willing- to defend them, if it comes to that.
He'll stick to providing the King Arthur and Princess Bride jokes, although that depends on if they encounter rodents of unusual size. Which, of course, they might.
Although now that he's thought about it, and is now considering it as an actual possibility, it means it won't happen. As he's said, strange things only happen when he isn't looking for them.
His stomach grumbles as they keep on through the woods, and he starts to miss the muffins he made yesterday morning.
The other him, the one from this dimension (the one who's currently in the late sixties, if he remembers correctly) had mentioned that it was some time in July, which means blackberries should be around in their home time.
The only question is whether they landed in the same season in the fifteen hundreds.
That, and if blackberries are even the same. Humans have been selectively breeding fruit so much that a banana from this time period resembles nothing like what's in the supermarket today- who knows. Although from what he knows about blackberry plants, he knows that they tend to be invasive, generally unwanted, and hard to clear, so maybe not?
Not to mention evolution- five hundred years can change a bunch.
So there isn't really a lot he knows about sixteenth century berries. Add on the fact that he's not really eager to eat random berries in the woods, and yeah, even the absolute mess of the angel food cakes he made last year sounds good right now.
Burnt on top, undercooked in the middle, and fell apart when he tried to cool it. He tried again about a month later, but it still didn't work, and ended up even worse. It collapsed in the oven, and still fell apart when he cooled it.
After that, he decided to stick to things that cool right side up. Much less stressful.
The other Perry elbows him. Is that a wagon? He asks, and Perry squints to see where he's pointing.
I think so, he signs. He takes out the tracker, which thankfully reveals that they have not been travelling in circles like he feared.
Want to go check it out?
Perry hesitates. On one hand, it could be a big mistake, of the kind that gets one crucified or burnt at the stake. And he'd rather come out of this adventure unscathed, thank you very much.
On the other hand, why not? They might have food.
In the end, that's what makes up his mind. Anything is better than unfamiliar forest berries. Sure, why not.
So they take a detour from their trek towards the artifact and head towards the wagon.
Upon closer inspection, the wagon appears to be recently abandoned. Footprints that look relatively fresh lie all around the base of the wagon, but there isn't anybody around.
The agent even clangs his sword against the side of the wagon to make some noise, but nobody responds.
They're alone, which is probably for the best.
So they explore the wagon.
It seems like this wagon belongs to the Catholic- maybe, Perry doesn't know his medieval churches very well- church, based on the presence of exactly one book- an extremely fancy bible. (Was the first printing press invented before now? There's yet another question for when he has the power of a search engine around.)
Now usually, Perry doesn't condone theft. But if it's theft from the church, eh, why not. It's not like the owners are around. And the church doesn't pay taxes in the twenty-first century, and he's a state employee, so it's him taking his pay that's deserved of him. Technically. Kinda. Whatever.
Point is, they have bread and what looks like cheese, and that's food, which means he's going to take some of it.
The bread is dense and mildly sourdough-like, but it's good. The cheese is kind of gross, but if he can stomach haggis (although that was only once, on a dare from a friend in college, and he only won because he didn't puke until later), he can eat this.
Once they've had breakfast, Perry pokes around to find some sort of bag to carry the rest of the food, and also the artifact.
He doesn't find a bag, but he does find two sets of...whatever medieval clothing is called. It's pants and a tunic. Both have probably never been washed in their entire lifetime.
We should probably change into those so we don't get lynched for being...witches or something, Perry signs, chucking one of the pairs of pants at the other him.
The agent nods. That covers dressing like a peasant- do we need to stink like a peasant and be on fire like a peasant before we can retrieve the artifact too?
Perry looks down at the tunic in his hand. I think wearing these will cover the stink like peasants part just fine.
The other him laughs. I'm so going to need a shower when we get back to the present.
Perry makes a face. Many showers. Let's hope this artifact isn't something that smells appalling, yeah?
Once they've traded their twenty-first century clothing for something that feels like wearing a burlap sack and located a satchel to put things in, they set off back into the woods.
They trek in amicable silence for a while, picking their way through the thorny underbrush.
At least there's one good thing about these peasant clothes- he doesn't have to worry about getting a hole in them.
So tell me, Perry signs after a while, what have you been up to the past few years? Is working for OWCA still interesting?
The agent laughs. Funny you should mention that, he signs.
Perry raises one eyebrow. How so?
Well, actually, the agent signs, but the rest of it is cut off when Perry steps forwards onto what looks like normal undergrowth, and he falls into a pit of some sort.
A pit full of fucking blackberry vines, that have managed to ensnare him quite viciously.
So blackberries do look the same as they do several hundred years into the future.
It's just too bad that they still have the same thorns. Which still hurt exactly like they do back in his dimension.
Are you okay? The other him asks, his head popping into Perry's field of vision.
Perry looks around, taking stock of the situation. He manages to free his arms enough to sign that It's not that deep, adding really, I'm fine, when the other him raises a skeptical eyebrow.
And it's true. Other than the plethora of sharp spines stabbing him in the back, he's uninjured. Nothing broken, or even sprained.
He hauls himself out of the pit of vines, dragging a few vines along with him. For the next several miles, he winds up pulling thorns out of his rough tunic. Just when he thinks he's gotten the last one, another one seems to pop up.
He doesn't bring up what the agent was talking about earlier, and the agent doesn't either. If he doesn't want to talk about it, Perry won't press him.
They press on through the woods, mile after mile slowly ticking by on their artifact finder. Scrubby underbrush clings to their clothing, and Perry is glad they found something much more medieval than their modern button-downs and slacks.
Just when it starts to get dark, Perry spots some flickering lights in the distance. Like a campfire.
Even though it's slightly out of their way, they start over that way.
It turns out to be what looks like a group of traveling entertainers, their wagons painted bright colors. There's even a cage with a bear in it on one of the wagons.
One of the entertainers is strumming some sort of instrument, singing in a language neither Perry knows.
The agent steps out of their hiding place in the dark, clearing his throat. Perry steps out after him, waving.
The man playing the instrument stops, all eyes on the two Perrys standing there. He asks something, although Perry has no idea what he's saying.
The agent probably doesn't either, but he gestures towards an instrument sitting on the ground, and then himself.
One of the other men hands him the instrument, which looks like a wooden recorder of sorts.
The agent studies it for a moment, then plays a few notes.
For probably never having picked up an instrument like this before, the agent is surprisingly gifted musically. The song he plays is hauntingly beautiful, a melody that feels beautiful and sad at the same time.
The other traveling entertainers are just as spellbound, cheering wildly as soon as the agent finishes his piece.
Dang. Apparently, trumpet isn't the only instrument Agent P is good at.
The entertainers, through a series of gestures, tell the Perrys that they can stay the night with them, or at least Perry seems to think they say that.
They do share their food with him, so he's pretty sure they're welcome. Perry's not too good at playing musical instruments, but when the leader of their group hands him the guitar-looking thing, he fumbles his way through a few chord progressions and they seem to think it's wonderful.
He and the other Perry still decide to take watch through the night, mostly since the entertainers don't seem so willing to do so.
As soon as the others get to sleep, he checks the artifact finder again, grinning when he sees they only have thirty-five miles left. Halfway there.
In the morning, they wave goodbye to the traveling entertainers, who bid them luck (probably) in a language Perry doesn't recognize. Early French, maybe.
So, Perry asks, what the heck were you holding when we all got snapped to this dimension?
Well, the agent says, it was, how should I put it. It- The agent shrieks, jumping back.
Perry looks down, and there is an absolutely massive snake sitting right in their path. Thicker than his forearm, and about ten feet long. The type of reptile that eats rodents of unusual size.
It's a good thing they have a sword. He grabs the sword from the agent's hand, bringing it down in one fell swoop to behead the snake. Its body thrashes around for a bit before going still, and finally the agent stops screaming.
Look at that, Perry signs with a laugh, handing the sword back, I killed a dragon.
The agent laughs too, poking the body of the snake with the end of the sword. Some dragon.
Hey, I didn't see you being the valiant knight, did I?
The agent rolls his eyes and elbows Perry. Whatever. Let's keep going.
Perry considers pestering the agent about what he was talking about before, but decides to drop it in favor of checking the artifact finder. Thirty three miles to go.