My name is Kurt Luther and I’m a writer; of course Luther isn’t my real name but it is what I am best known as.
So what’s so special about me? Nothing, in fact there isn’t anything remarkable about me at all.
I live in a small mid terraced house in London in a fairly quiet area with the usual assortment of neighbours you would expect from such a setting.
I keep myself busy with my research for my books and when I am working on a new manuscript you will find me at my computer for most of the day.
I was working on my latest novel last Saturday morning when the doorbell rang. Usually I would ignore any callers whilst working, however, this one was most persistent.
I saved my work and made my way out through the hall to the front door where I could see the silhouette of a man through the glass panels. I sighed as he rang the bell yet again, it appeared he was not going to go away. I undid the catch on the Yale lock and turned the knob opening the door I got my first good look at the young man. He was about 6 feet tall and maybe 13 stone, he had dark blond hair and steely blue eyes; the left one I thought had a slight cast but hey nobody’s perfect.
“Good morning sir, Mr Luther is it?”
He asked with an air of someone used to giving orders and just as used to having them obeyed.
“Yes, I’m Luther, and you are?”
He reached into his inner left jacket pocket and pulled out a leather wallet, which he opened and showed me a warrant card, then just as quickly put it away again.
“Detective Superintendent Stone sir, May I come in please? I need to discuss some matters vital to national security with you.”
“I’m sorry – may I see your ID again I didn’t have my glasses on.”
I could see the look of frustration on his face punctuated by an exasperated sigh; nevertheless he retrieved the wallet and held his card out for me to inspect. I looked at it, it looked real but what do I know?
“Look how can I help you? I mean national security is not a subject I have much knowledge of.”
“I appreciate your confusion sir, however, it is vitally important that I speak with you and I do believe that this conversation would be better conducted in the privacy of your home.”
I wouldn’t exactly have said I was confused but I left it at that and stood aside and gestured for him to come in. He stepped into the hall and waited for me to close the door, which I locked with the Yale once more.
“Down the hall, first right is the sitting room.”
He looked round in the direction I was pointing.
“Do go through please and make yourself comfortable, I’ll go put the kettle on.”
He did as I instructed and I went down the hall into the kitchen and once I’d put the kettle on the stove I went through to join my guest.
I entered the room to find him sitting in one of the armchairs; a shaft of sunlight was playing with his dark golden locks. I sat down in the opposite chair.
“What’s this all about Superintendent?”
He looked at me and moved forward to sit on the edge of the chair. I could see he was searching for the words and after a deep breath he began.
“Mr Luther I, well I guess I haven’t been entirely honest with you.”
I look at his face, there is something very familiar about it, it’s - it’s like I have seen it before. Nah!
“I want you to concentrate fully on what I’m saying because your life depends upon it!”
He is sitting there talking like the world is going to end but I don’t care all I can think of is – where have I seen you before? There is a very strange attraction I feel for this man, not in a sexual way, I just can’t explain how I feel! Hey – a novelist lost for words! Who’d have thought it!
“MR LUTHER! ARE YOU LISTENING?”
Shit I must have zoned out.
“Sorry, I am having a bit of trouble understanding. Could you repeat what you said please?
He looked at me with such pain in his eyes and his expression troubled me.
“May I call you Grandad?”
What? Sorry I must have been in my own world – did he say Grandad?
“Yes you are my Grandad. Are you on drugs?”
He stood up and I could see a new visage appearing.
“I am Superintendent Stone of Special Branch 2039 – that’s the year 2039, I’m your Grandson.”
Now I know I am a writer and I deal in the fantastic future but when a guy appears on your doorstep saying ‘I’m your grandson’ well what do you do?
It was about now I realised the kettle was whistling its ass of in the kitchen.
“I’m going to turn the gas off.” I said going to the kitchen. I turned the gas off and re-joined him in the front room.
“OK I am a writer and science fiction is my forte – let’s say I am open to being convinced – prove it!”
He stood up and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a bag with photo’s in it and threw it on the table.
“I’ve arranged them in date order, start at the first and work your way through.”
I did as he said and found that there were photos from my childhood right through to what looked like me as an octogenarian.
“OK so let’s assume you are telling the truth!” I stood up and walked round the room.
“Why are you here?”
He turned his body to face me and his expression was grave.
“Granddad, I am here to tell you that there is a plot against you. You have to take what I’m saying seriously! YOU ARE IN DANGER!!!”
Well he is certainly passionate in his belief.
“Ok. I’m in danger. Why?”
He gathered himself like he was in for a long haul.
“2 weeks after your 35th Birthday you are involved in a car accident. You will spend the following 3 weeks in a coma.”
I must have looked surprised here going by his expression.
“When you return to the land of the living,”
He continued as I sat opposite him, trying to get to the bottom of his story.
“You’re not the same man!”
I was a bit more concerned than earlier.
“Ok so what is my story?”
He wrung his hands and looked deep into my eyes.
After you woke from your coma you had a serious psychological problem – it turned you into a stone cold killer.”
I laughed to myself at his words, I played with them.
“You become a serial killer!”
I faced him – my Grandson for the first time.
“So are you here to bring me to justice?”
He honestly looked as if I’d stabbed him.
“Grandad – no! I’m trying to get you away. There are agents on their way here from the future to terminate you. If they succeed I will fade from existence”
“So what are you saying? I’m a going to turn into a nut job?”
He sat down and you might probably imagine I am having a bit of a brain-storm here about my situation.
“When you are released from hospital you find it hard to adjust to life and you become a serial killer.”
He leaned closer.
“I’m here to stop that from happening and help you evade the kill squads.”
I remembered that I hadn’t made the tea yet.
“I am a bit baffled here! Let me go make us some tea – that’ll give me a few moments to think about what you’ve said.”
He nodded his agreement.
I went through to the kitchen and made the tea. I must admit at this point I was feeling a bit frazzled. I opened the drawer under the draining board and picked up a few things.
I put a plate of biscuits and some napkins beside the tea-pot; cups; milk jug and sugar bowl on a tray and headed back in. I sat down and asked him to continue.
“Ok so how do I change? “ I asked
He looked at me and I could see the story swelling in his chest.
After your accident you go into a Glasgow scale 14 coma. You will spend 3 weeks in hospital comatose and then you awake. You seem to be normal and after 4 weeks of tests and therapy you are released.”
He sat forward rubbing his hands together.
“A short while after your release you have a kind of relapse and go into an abnormal fantasy and you start killing people.”
He looked at me and said.
“What is this? Is it tea?!”
That was his first emotion. My Grandson had never tasted tea! Go figure!
“Yes, it’s tea.”
He sat down and looked at me with big wide eyes. I stood up and took the cup from his now frozen hand and looked into his despair filled eyes.
He looked at me paralysed in the chair.
“What are you doing?”
I look at him with pity as I sit down in front of him.
“I’ve paralysed your major muscle groups with a drug I put in your cup.”
I watched as he tried to move he was sweating now. I snapped my fingers to get his attention.
“OK so let’s work things out. You have come back to before this accident that you say is going to happen to stop me from becoming a killer!”
I stand up and walk around the room.
“If I die then you would disappear, so since you are here I must still be alive in your time.”
I reach in my pocket for the small device I took from the kitchen drawer and hold it before his eyes; I can see from his reaction that he recognised the disrupter.
“You are 4 years too late!”
I move closer and smash my fist against his nose; he makes no movement but I can tell it hurt.
“I am 39 years old! They came for me years ago and I killed them all. What do you think about that?”
His eyes widened till they threatened to pop out of his face.
“You said I have a relapse! I didn’t have a relapse I had a meeting with a time paradox.”
I put the disrupter down on the coffee table.
“I was visited by a member of Special Branch from 2041 just 5 weeks after leaving hospital. He told me a similar story to the one you have just recounted.”
I took another device from my pocket and held it up.
“He used this on me as you know it fires a focused sound wave. It threw me across the room and I dislocated my shoulder when I hit the wall.”
I put the beam weapon on the table.
“He walked round to where I lay and pointed that disrupter at me. He made the pronouncement of the court and just as he was about to fire he dropped it clutched his chest and sank to his knees.”
I reached over and wiped the blood from his nose with a napkin. I sat back and continued my story.
“I managed to stand up and as I stood there towering above him I could feel a rage such as I had never felt before welling inside me.”
I took the disrupter from the table.
“I picked up this little toy from the floor and pointed it at him and pulled the trigger. I was amazed at the result as his body disintegrated and left no trace he’d ever been here.”
The effects of the drug would be wearing off soon.
“It is thanks to the future I am a monster in the present.”
I stand up.
“I have had visits from your people for 3 years now and I’m getting to enjoy this game we’re playing.”
I point the disrupter at his chest.
“I have become a minister of death thanks to you; you’re meddling with time. I don’t care who you are – I’m not mad!”
I squeeze the trigger.
“Why can’t you all just leave me alone to write?”