The Gift
Copyright© 2005 by Volentrin
Chapter 15
Erotic Sci-fi Sex Story: Chapter 15 - Story about a boy who discovers the ability to see past events. He finds out he has this ability when he is serving a detention in the eight grade. He is sweeping the girls locker room and wishes he could have been a fly on the wall, when suddenly a gauziness settles over his vision, and he can all of a sudden see the girls from a couple hours earlier! Follow along as he developes his new ability!
Caution: This Erotic Sci-fi Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fiction Time Travel
I was all packed and ready to go. I had clean clothes set out for tomorrow's departure, and was getting ready to go out to dinner. I was still pissed off with the people who had searched my room, and I was almost a hundred percent sure it had come at lord John Avery-Smythe's orders.
What was that old saying? 'No good deed goes unpunished'? Not once, but twice, I return a piece of their family history to them. Now I am being hounded by intelligence people from England; and the FBI in my own country was on me, for a while.
Well, this time around, I had done nothing even remotely worthy of investigation, if you discount my 'back timing' to collect autographs, and my 1970's trip to the ABBA concert.
As much as I was going to hate doing it, I was going to have to scratch off visiting England for the foreseeable future.
This meant I was going to have to start learning languages. I planned to do some serious 'back time' trips in Europe. Perhaps I could Go to France, 'back time it' and then still get to England, only the England of the past. It was a thought worth considering.
There was a knock on the door. I put my paper down (the one with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's autograph, I was reading the installment of Sherlock Holmes that was in it), and answered the door.
"May I come in," John Avery-Symthe asked me as soon as I opened the door.
I stared for a moment.
"Sure why not. If I don't let you in, most likely a goon squad would arrive in mere moments," I said sardonically, moving aside to let him in.
"I apologize. I in no way wished to offend you. My only defense is the incredible coincidence of that man from the past. You look so much like him, and your ability to discover rare things from the past, well..." he walked over to my paper and picked it up.
"Like this for example. Do you know how hard it is to come up with memorabilia of Doyle? Yet you come, and not only get a signed autograph on a newspaper of the day, but it is like new. I had the signature authenticated. It is his, beyond a doubt.
"You're a mystery to me. I really think you are not only what you appear to be, a genuinely helpful young man, but I think you have access to something that is amazing. Or else you are much, much older than you appear.
"I doubt you are older than you appear, because as one ages, one gets perspective, and also life experience. Everything about you screams you're what you purport to be, age wise. No, you're definitely 22, almost 23, and a very wealthy young man.
"Which leaves me with the only other conclusion. You have a way of traveling in time, my young friend. Tell me I am wrong," he finally finished.
"You're wrong," I said with a panicky feeling.
He snorted, saying, "That wasn't very convincing."
"I am not responsible for your state of mind. If you want to believe in time travel, that's you're problem. Just try not to let it spill over onto me, will you?" I asked with exasperation.
He laughed and said, "There are other reasons for me thinking you can travel in time, and I don't believe your government is responsible for your being able to do it. I think either it is a very private organization; or, it is an ability that you have developed yourself," he said with damnable accuracy.
"If what you say is true, that I can go back in time, how do you know it isn't with the help of my government?" I asked curiously.
"For one, no government would allow you to make the money you did from going back in time. Second, the ability to travel in time is the dream of plenty of people the world over, government representatives included. Also, I doubt they would let you come here to go back in time.
"This newspaper," he said, holding up the 'Holmes paper', "tells me it is YOU, and not some government that is doing this. I would know if your government, or some other government, was trying something in my country. You, are the unknown, Sir.
"While most governments want to present an altruistic face to the public, this capability would be so secret, that I doubt someone like you would be involved in it. No, it has to be a private, or a personal ability.
"I would venture to say, it would take a lot of power to go back in time, and our local power company shows no extraordinary drains, even with you visiting. So it has to be an unknown power source. That leaves the untapped potential of the mind, and that leaves you, as the sole 'heir apparent' to time travel," Sir Avery-Smythe said with finality.
I clapped my hands together loudly. "Bravo! When do you take this act on the road?" I asked with bluff enthusiasm.
In reality I was sick to my stomach. This guy was dead on! He set my paper down gently.
"I am not your enemy, Tom. I did not come with a 'wire', as you Americans say. There are no agents waiting to whisk you off to some secret laboratory. I wanted you to know there are honorable people left in this world, still. I think we are friends."
Having said that, he left!
Well! I pondered my visit with the lord Avery-Smythe. This was a totally unexpected turn of events. The way he played Sherlock; and put clues together to arrive at a conclusion like that, and be so 'dead on' to boot, was frightening!
It was good to be back home. Well, not my real home, but my new home in my gated community outside of Boston. I could see that everything I had wanted modified while I was gone either had been done, or was almost finished. Good. I could now bring all my treasures and items from the past, 'home'. I had a place to store clothing, and guns; and I had a walk in safe that was very strong, and very protected. And is was all in one building: my new house.
It took me a few days, but I got everything transported, and felt pleased to have everything close at hand. I cleaned my old flintlock rifle, and my musket, and the flintlock pistol, then put them in their display cases.
The gold coins I stacked neatly in a metal drawer, that was lined and padded with a non acidic cloth. The gold nuggets, and gold dust, I put together in another drawer. I locked those away as well. Stock certificates and bearer bonds I placed in yet another drawer. I also had a hundred thousand dollars cash, emergency money, which I also put in the vault.
I went back to my office in Boston, and got caught up on what my foundation had been doing. Good things, so far. Since I had gone on my little trip, they had given away three hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars to worthy causes.
I don't mean 'Catholic relief charities', I mean a few thousand to this or that humane society, which needed extra funding. Several anonymous donations to hospitals, to cover bills for operations.
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