From the Journals of Michael Wagner
Copyright© 2023 by Phil Brown
Chapter 150: Adriana’s Shares
Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 150: Adriana’s Shares - In 2011, a fifty-six-year-old man, suffering from depression, puts a gun to his head and pulls the trigger. But instead of dying, he finds himself alive in the body of a sixteen-year-old boy, in 1971. And he soon discovers that whoever did this to him accidently gave him empathic abilities. They also gave him a purpose. A mission to save his world. This then, is his story, taken from his own journals. The amazing story of how he came to change the world.
Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Ma/ft mt/Fa Fa/Fa ft/ft Fa/ft Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Magic Incest Polygamy/Polyamory Anal Sex Exhibitionism First Pregnancy Nudism Royalty
Saturday, June 19, 1971
I felt her fingers softly touching me. When I opened my eyes, Nicky was on her side, with her head propped on one hand while she continued to trail her fingers softly over my face and neck and chest.
“Good morning, Michael,” she said in a voice that matched the softness of her touch.
I could feel the love in her touch, so I smiled at her as I told her, “I love you, too!”
She leaned over and gave me a gentle kiss that matched her touch and her voice. Nicky was still in a tender, loving mood this morning. I matched her gentleness as I kissed her back.
“Michael? What’s going to happen? To us?” she asked, pensively.
I scanned her to see what was on her mind before I answered.
“You know that I am not really your brother, but the rest of the world doesn’t see it that way. That means that I can never proclaim my love for you publicly,” I replied. “So basically, I see two possibilities for us. One is that we stay together, as we are. The home we’re building is as much yours as mine, and it will be private enough for us to maintain the relationship we have now. Or two, you will meet someone and decide that he is the one you want to spend your life with. While I would hate to give you up, it would be unfair to you to ask you to stay with me since we could never get married.”
“I don’t think I like number two,” she said, making a pouty face.
“Still, I realize that it’s a possibility,” I told her. “I guess my biggest fear is that you will stop wanting to share me,” I confessed.
“I’ll admit that until you woke up from the coma, I had always envisioned myself as a wife and mother, one day,” she said with a sigh. “Now, I just don’t know. I mean my only regret is never getting to be a mother. I’m looking forward to being an aunt to all your other children, but something inside of me seems to be telling me that I want to have children of my own.”
“You can still be a mother,” I told her. “But if you want me to be the father, you’ll have to wait until you reach legal age, or you could be in for all kinds of grief from the authorities.”
“But I thought if brothers and sisters had children, they would be born deformed or handicapped or something,” she said.
“Nicky, in the future, researchers will discover that the odds of bearing handicapped children with siblings are only fractionally greater than with non-siblings. The difference is so small it’s almost nonexistent. The problems usually come after generations of inbreeding,” I explained.
“Really?” she asked excitedly.
“Yeah. The only real challenge to us having children is all the details that would have to be worked out. Like how we explain how you became pregnant, and whether we tell the children that I’m their father and things like that,” I said. “The only person’s blessings I would want are your grandmother’s. We’re lucky that money, or the things that money can buy, won’t ever be a problem. After the Russian deal is complete, your shares, along with Debbie’s, Sarah’s, and Adriana’s, will be worth three to four times as much as they were.”
I knew the moment I said it. But there was no way to take it back now. I watched Nicky’s face as she became aware of what I had just shared.
“Adriana’s ... shares?” Nicky asked, shocked. She knew that Wagner shares had always been protected, and only for family members. The very idea that someone outside the family had any shares was almost impossible to conceive.
“Uh-oh!” I thought. I wasn’t supposed to mention that.
“Give it up, big brother!” she cried as she grabbed my little finger, bending it backwards slightly. “Or you’ll be nursing a broken finger!”
“No one else knows, Nicky. And I am not supposed to tell her until her twenty-first birthday. At least it’s not to become common knowledge before then. It’s in the terms of our grandfather’s will,” I said.
“Grandfather’s will?” she asked, again surprised. “How do you know what’s in his will?”
“All right!” I told her. “Let go of my finger and I’ll tell you!”
“Okay,” she said, releasing the pressure slightly. “But I want the WHOLE story!”
First, I replayed what John and Catherine had told me on the train a couple of weeks ago.
“The estate is set up with you inheriting 55 of the 100 shares in the company. Your grandmother owns 25 shares. Your father owned 5 shares that will now be split between you and Nicky. Sarah, Debbie, Wally, Harrison, and Greg’s sister, Nancy, all own 2 ½ shares each. I understand that Vivian will get her mother’s shares when she dies,” John had explained.
“Michael, I want you to know that I’m leaving my shares to Nicky, when I pass on. That’s not to slight you, but to make sure that she is always taken care of,” Catherine had said.
I paused to check her reaction to that piece of news.
“I know,” Nicky said. “She told me that when you were in the hospital.”
I smiled at her as I continued the replay of my conversation with John and Catherine.
“I understand and I think that’s great,” I told Catherine. “But, if I added correctly, that’s only 97 ½ shares. Who has the other 2 ½ shares?” I asked them.
Nobody said anything. John and Catherine just looked at each other.
Finally, John said, “We don’t know, Michael. Greg kept that information sealed. We’re hoping we’ll find out when the will is finally read, and the sealed documents pass into your possession.”
“But how did you find out that the other two and a half shares belonged to Adriana?” Nicky persisted.
So I told her about the safe in grandfather’s office, and the stupid games I had to play with Jeanne to get the combination. Then I told her about the letter.
“What did it say?” she asked.
So I replayed my memory of reading it for her:
February, 1968
Dear Michael,
If you’re reading this, it means that I am no longer alive, and that you are not really my grandson. The question and the answers were supplied by a man I have always referred to, as ‘The Messenger’.
There is much to tell you. Most of it is with my attorneys, which you may or may not have seen yet, depending on when Jeannie or Adriana could get with you.
Though I have died once before, it doesn’t get any easier, facing death a second time. I can only hope, that there is indeed, another such opportunity. But I despair to think it. I am afraid I have not totally pleased them.
As a fellow time traveler, you will understand the difficulty of living a second life, never being able to tell anyone about who you really are. Or all that you can do. And now, looking back, I have many regrets about how I used my second chance.
One of those regrets involves your grandmother. I so wish I had told her more. I shared my past with her on our honeymoon, but then never really told her anything else. I thought it was my burden to bear. The pain of bearing this heavy burden would have been so much less, had it been shared. And it turns out, she ended up knowing most of it anyway! Such are the small ironies of life.
As I stated, I have made many mistakes. But the one I regret the least is Wilma. We met when I was touring one of our plants in Ohio, in the summer of 1952. We spent the weekend together and I went on my way. Nine months later, I received a call from the hospital in Ohio, informing me Wilma had died in childbirth and the child, a little girl, might not survive.
They said Wilma had listed me as the father. The time was about right, so I immediately had the baby flown to New York and attended to by the best specialists I could find. I realized right away that she was not mine. I have type AB blood. She is type O.
But I fell in love with that helpless little baby and took responsibility for her. I named her Adriana.
A loving couple here in New York, took her for me and raised her for the first five years, teaching her sign language in order to help her communicate better. How I wish now, I had told Catherine. And that we could have been the ones to watch her grow up.
When she was five, the couple had to move back to Iowa, to attend her ailing mother, and I could not bear to have Adriana that far from me. I told Jeannie about her, and she agreed to take her. She even learned sign language to be able to talk with Adriana.
She brought her to the office every time she could. I had the room next to Jeannie’s office made into ‘Adriana’s’ office. When she saw me, she always called me Uncle Greg.
I arranged for her schooling. She did not fit well in a normal school environment; they just weren’t equipped to deal with her needs. And the school for the deaf was not acceptable. So I arranged for tutors and home schooling, right here in the office. She is tremendously bright and talented. As I write this, she is on track to graduate from high school and to start college soon. And she’s only fifteen.
When she is ready, I have made arrangements for her to have a position as Jeannie’s assistant.
Also, several years ago, I set aside two-and-one-half shares of Wagner stock for Adriana. My attorney has the details. I do not think either Adriana or Jeannie is aware of this. It was always my intent to surprise Adriana on her twenty-first birthday.
I have tried to leave you in as good a financial position as possible and I wish you success in accomplishing whatever it is they want of us.
My dying request is that you care for Adriana as if she were your own family.
And if you are in contact with Catherine, and I so hope that you are, please tell her, I’m sorry that I had to die twice to learn what true love really is.
Your grandfather, and fellow time traveler,
Greg Wagner
“The part about Grandmother is so sad,” Nicky said as she wiped a tear from her eye. “Does she know?”
“I gave her the letter a few minutes later. She still has it, as far as I know. We never discussed it, not even the part about Adriana,” I told her.
“Poor Adriana. I didn’t know,” Nicky exclaimed.
“Poor ... is not exactly the case, here,” I replied. When Nicky didn’t respond right away. I decided to keep my mouth closed as I waited for Nicky to process all the implications.
Finally, she said, “So let me see if I have this straight. Adriana is a millionaire, but you haven’t told her yet. You have asked her to be your wife, but because she doesn’t know that she’s independently wealthy, if she does marry you, then you will regain control of that stock, without her ever knowing it existed until it was too late. Somehow, that doesn’t seem right, Michael.”
“When you put it like that, it doesn’t sound good, but you’re right,” I replied. “I can only tell you that until the will has been probated, I didn’t think there was anything I could do about it, so I just sort of put it out of my mind. I guess we should talk with her, huh?”
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