With a little help, Hans finally found the dockyards. He asked around and found a northbound raft manned by another of the black canine species. The same race as the man Hans had talked to earlier. In exchange for free transport, Hans offered to help row the craft northward. They agreed and soon took off. It was a strange relief to be on the move again.
“Where are you from, Human?”
The question came from the man rowing ahead of him. Hans could only see the canine’s sinewed back.
“I’m from Mannheim.”
“Never heard of that place!”
“It’s very far away. What about yourself?”
“Deltia. We’ll be there in a few days. Looking for work there?”
“Actually I’m looking for The Black Airship.”
The canine turned around as if to look Hans over.
“You mean The Black Ship? You know, it flew over our city, exploded a purple light over us and then went screaming off over the ocean and to heaven itself.”
It bombed the town? Who would do that?
“Which way was it going?”
“North. It flew right over us toward the ocean.”
Suddenly Hans felt relieved he had his camouflage on, lest the canine notice on him the same swastika that graced the tail of the fighter plane.
In fact, the relative calm of this world had violated the despair which settled over Hans on the Eastern Front, but this quest for ‘The Black Ship’ somehow eased things.
The river and the land around him was opening up with life. On each side were orange brick buildings of all kinds. Ferries crossed “furries” from one side to the other. Tall reeds popped up all along both embankments, and behind them was a gentle wall of green topped by palm trees.
That night he slept in the center of the boat while someone else took over for him. He laid down and stared up at the black canopy of stars, which twinkled like those in his own world. Now was a good time to think about Amalija and Kairah.
“You know, I’ve seen a few humans show up in our town recently.”
His new friend snapped Hans out of his daydream of Amalija. But were there really other humans here?
“Uh, where are the Humans coming from?”
“No idea. Somewhere over in the North Continent of course. Maybe north of the Cottonwine Lands. Something’s going on over there that’s bringing them here.”
The North Continent? Maybe that was where the plane flew off to. The canine said it was headed north, after all.
“Hmm. The North Continent… How do I get there?”
“There’s one ship channel in Deltia. It can take you to three ports over there, but I’d be careful. Your kind must be fleeing to here for a reason.”
“Thanks. Uh, hey. What about The Cottonwine Lands? Do you know where they are?”
“All I know is it’s really far away. North and east of the lapines. Besides that, just far away. I’ve never been on the other side.”
Hans smiled. “Thank you, comrade. I will… Find The Black Ship.”
The midnight air felt heavy upon him when Hans stepped off in the sweltering capital the next night. It was time to find an inn and regroup for what looked to be a long journey into the unknown. Tomorrow he’d ask around about the fighter plane, just to be sure. The North Continent sounded promising, as did the Cottonwine Lands.
Deltia seemed dominated by the black, elegant canines, which were more appealing to Hans’ eyes. Especially the women, of course. He inquired about an inn and trudged eastward to find a torchlight brick box nestled in between residences.
Stepping in, his eyes adjusted to the light. Behind the desk he saw the flash of a green helmet with netting over it. Against his better judgment, Hans took a cautious step inside. It was another human. And in a light green uniform. The man’s eyes bugged out when he saw Hans.
But Hans was faster on the draw, and before the surprised American could reach for anything, Hans’ Mauser was pointed right at the enemy’s face.
So there were other humans here, and obviously not just from the North Continent, either.
Allies
The barrel of Hans’ Mauser remained pointed in the face of the other human.
“Hey, come on. There’s no war going on here. You—you don’t need to do this.” The American to Hans in perfect Deutsch.
“You speak German?” Hans asked.
“Uh… No. Do you speak English?”
“No.”
“Hmm… Interesting…”
Hans backed away slowly and made his way to the door. Deltia had plenty of other inns.
The American protested. “Wh-what… Where are you going? Come on, man. Don’t go! You’re the only person I’ve seen form home!”
Hans spent a second looking at the blue eyes under that netted helmet. “Do you mind if I search you?”
“No! Sure, go right ahead!” The American leaped up to his feet.
“No! Just stay there, Comrade. I’ll… come over there.”
Hans came behind the desk and took the pistol the American surrendered. He then stood behind the ‘Ami’ and patted him down.
“Been here long?” Hans tried to sound friendly.
“Four months.” He sighed. “I was just playing video games and ‘boom!’ Here I was.”
“Video games?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry I’m from the future. Well, your future at least.”
If Hans wasn’t in this world, he wouldn’t have believed such a wild claim. It sounded ridiculous on its own. “What year is it?”
“Two-thousand nine. I just saw this white light and here I am.” The American smiled. “I’m James, by the way. Can I sit down now?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sorry about all that.”
The American had pasty skin and a frumpy chin. He could likely pass as a German.
“Hey no worries. All from a different time, right? Here, it’s probably not as good as what you’re used to, but…”
James slid him a ‘Rolling Rock’ beer. Hans hovered his nose over the bottle and took a careful swig.
“It’s not bad. For North American beer.”
“So anyway. How’d you get here?”
“Was in a battle. In Russia.”
“Oh? What year is it for you?”
“1943.”
“Wow.” James uncapped a ‘Rolling Rock’ for himself. “Nine-teen-forty-three, huh…”
Hans suddenly felt a morbid curiosity rising. Unless the war had raged for sixty years, James probably knew the outcome. The pit of his stomach dropped. Maybe it was best not to know.
“So… have you seen a fighter plane fly by here at all?”
“No, sorry. Did you see one?”
“Yeah. It flew by me a week ago. My comrades are here somewhere. I’m looking for them.”
“Trying to get back?”
“Yes. Well… Maybe. I just want to find my comrades.”
“…It’s… Not that bad, you know…” James responded. “Germany’s united again. It gets back together after awhile. Have a pretty good soccer team, too.”
Hans’ heart sank. He didn’t know what to think. ‘Not that bad’ meant they lost.
“I mean uh. Yeah, you lose, but… Germany’s the best economy in Europe again. The British lost everything they had. And the Soviet Union doesn’t even exist anymore.”
“What? How?”
Hans didn’t believe that. Well, he believed the part about Germany losing. But the rest just sounded conciliatory talk from a man who needed a friend.