Time Traveler’s Remorse

A Simon Jahaz Tale Episode 1

Finding love wasn't part of Simon Jahaz's mission plan.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

March 21, 2137

Covert Operations Base, Ghana

Mr. Hanks, team leader of Eco One, the top notch temporal timeline operatives-for-hire under the Mammoth Corporation, double-clicked his throat digital radio mic to signal his men to engage the enemy. The brown skinned alpha male checked both flanks, then led them into battle.

“Watch out for friendlies,” Hanks reminded his elite warriors. “Remember our rules of engagement.”

No verbal response. Just several nods from seven dark-skinned, hardcore mercenaries, dressed in “appropriate attire” to blend in with the locals.

Their mission: To eliminate another time manipulator. This episode, it’s a Black outlaw named Simon Jahaz from that failed land of the former United States of America.

Episode’s code speak for time travelers. If careless, any one of them could return either physically or mentally altered via an unintended time paradox.

That’s what memory enhancement pills were for. In the event of a fractured episode, the Corporation provided them with enough to maintain their sanity in case of any sudden changes to reality.

“Let’s all come back alive,” Hanks was the first to double-time it through the blue temporal wormhole. “On me.”

They felt their limbs freeze stiff, even their breath stopped as they became part of the vortex that was consuming them. Their bodies transformed into blue light, then suddenly darkness all around.

October 31, 1471

Gold Coast

“Sound off,” Mr. Hanks whispered.

All seven of his soldiers confirmed that they were all present and accounted for. No injuries or casualties jumping through the wormhole 666 years into the past.

They all slipped on biodegradable infrared-contact lenses, enabling them to see in the dark as well as monitor their elapsed mission time: 13 Hours, 59 Minutes, 15 seconds.

When all clocks read zero that would mean the episode has expired. Their temporary holding pattern would instantly snap all of them back forward into the future of their original present time, just a millisecond after initiating their time jump.

It was never the same allotted time. With each subsequent jump, there was only a limit amount of hours, minutes or even just seconds to fulfill whatever necessary task.

Their rags were a perfect match for the tropical humidity. Looking as close as possible to the West African seamen, whom they were soon to make contact with while going out to fish before sunrise, was paramount.

Hanks was hoping to catch Jahaz in that small crowd of fishermen. Prior to the time jump, he told his men to not stand out by walking like a 22nd century citizen but to behave more humble to their current surroundings.

They couldn’t afford to alert Jahaz. They had to keep the element of surprise on their side.

“Radio silence,” Hanks commanded. Flesh colored paint camouflaged the injected throat mics beneath their skin. “Move out.”

Copying their boss’s order, they tactically spread out along the beach. Their time horizon was short.

Just how in the hell does this manipulator travel through time without a reliable time tunnel? Most, if not all, of them probably thought to themselves. Of course, it was already go time; and as always, none of them would dare ask that question out loud.


“I want you to come back with me,” Simon Jahaz gently kissed her full lips. “Before it’s too late.” He lay beside her, holding her nude petite, chocolate body.

“Too late for what, my love?” Woelinam asked in her native tongue.

“Just trust me,” Jahaz caressed her high cheek bones. His high-tech contact lenses translated her words into English, allowing him to communicate with her. He was grateful that the Portuguese, the first of many colonizers prior to the British invaders, hadn’t yet arrived, to trade goods, force themselves sexually upon her people, and ultimately, enslave them.

“My father approves of you,” Woelinam kissed him back. “He’ll expect your family to offer a handsome dowry.”

“Of course,” Jahaz’s time is ticking away as well. “Just come with me now.”

“Make love to me again,” she smiled.

“Again, huh?”


Feeling the fire

Jahaz positioned himself on top of her, parting her smooth midnight thighs with his knees until fully open. He allowed her to handle him, guiding the tip of his spear inside of her.

She was so tight. Soaking wet.

His hardness stretched longer, grew fatter. Air escaped with a queef.

She closed her big brown eyes. Submission was her middle name.

He felt her clawing at his back while he dug his way deeper, causing the young West African bride to be to convulse, moan, and scream before quaking another orgasm. Before his woman could catch her breath, he, too, busted a good one all the way up her sugar walls.

Elapsed Mission Time: 12 Hours, 48 Seconds

“Eyes up,” Mr. Hanks whispered. “Contact at twelve o’clock. Standby on my pos.” His men are sporadically positioned around the village just before sunrise. He instructs them to quietly approach their hard target because this one has a history of being violent if cornered.

“C’mon, Woelinam,” Jahaz shook his love.

“What’s wrong?” Woelinam quickly dressed.

“We have to go.”


“They’re here.”


“Evil men.”

Jahaz blamed himself for letting his emotional needs stand in the way of the primary reason for his arrival. He didn’t intend on finding such a sweet woman, an ironic outcome causing heartbreak, and quite possibly, time traveler’s remorse.

“Hurry, baby,” Jahaz pulled her towards his side. “We have to go now.”

Pardon the rude interruption

“Contact!” Mr. Hanks yells. His men converge on two fleeing individuals, hand in hand. “Engage. Engage.”

“I don’t understand them,” Woelinam hadn’t heard English until now.

“They’re here to kill us,” Jahaz yanks his woman’s shoulders, pulling her down to duck out of sight. “Stay here.”

“Don’t leave me.”

“I’ll be right back.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too, baby.”

“Simon!” Mr. Hanks called out. “We only want you. Come out, and I promise we’ll let the woman live.”

“I’m scared,” Woeliman squeezed Jahaz’s hand. “Don’t go.”

“Everything will be fine,” Jahaz kissed her. “Now stay down. I’ll be back.” He covered her up with a makeshift digital sniper’s ghillie suit to camouflage her from these deadly hunters from the future. He told her not to move, or else she might disrupt the cloaking energy that bent light and kept her invisible to the naked eye.

He knew damn well she had no idea what he was talking about. So, he limited the technical jargon, leaving in the essentials to survival.

“Just don’t move,” he kissed her once more then darted off into the jungle.

“Simon!” Mr. Hanks shouted once more. “Did you hear me? You have my word. Now come out with your hands raised.” He lowered his voice to direct his team to stand ready for action.


Jahaz twisted the neck of Hanks’ point man, silently dropping him to the ground. Then he quickly moved onto the next threat, taking the well-built solider from behind with a black 3-inch blade to the jugular.

He paused for a few seconds, watching him bleed out. Within the next breath, though, he caught a third team member running up on his 3 o’clock.

Infinite Form Weaponry

This one must have been either the first or second in command, because Jahaz recognized the subdue tattoos on both inner forearms morphing into 3-dimensional shapes. Pulse plasma high-powered squad rifles!

They’ve brought infinite form weaponry, Jahaz thought. He knew he only had a few more seconds before those images became solid.

Infinite form was a corporate military technology that enable a soldier to conceal his certain weapons in pure energy, temporarily in a 2-dimensional state until activated into its original 3-dimensional form. Body artwork was the best way to carry undetected.

It was limited to only high ranking officers and select assets whom solely dealt with black ops wet work, especially when seeking out time manipulators and other terrorists. And Simon Jahaz had risen to the top of the shit list.

“Arrrgh!” Screams from a now deceased mercenary alerted the team leader.

“Fucker,” Jahaz finished off the number two man with a second stab into the heart. He grabbed the dead man’s pulse rifle. It was fully charged.

“Simon!” Jahaz heard their leader’s voice again. “I have her. Now drop the weapon, and come to me. Come to me, or I’ll blow her head off.”

Jahaz swallowed his heart. His battle instincts kicked into gear.

Time was running out.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock. . .

To be continued. . .

Copyright 2018

Based on the eNovella “Etched in Memory,” of Rising Tales, Vol. 1 of Afro-Erotica Sci-fi, “Time Traveler’s Remorse,” Episode 1 of a Simon Jahaz Tale, is a NEW multipart eSeries SOLELY FOR THE NEGROMANOSPHERE.

You can scoop up Rising Tales, Vol. 1 as well as Marcus’s most recent Broke and Ashy urban eNovella series at an Amazon Kindle near you.


Facebook Comments
About Marcus Love 47 Articles
Author of several novels, Marcus is currently writing the next installment of the infamous Broke and Ashy eSeries available at an Amazon Kindle near you. https://www.amazon.com/Marcus-Love/e/B0097PJIHK