Author's notes:
I'm rather busy right now and as I've said before, the new chapters might take a little longer to finish. Sorry about that.
About the language and notation:
The Baylon language is a predecessor to Latin, which is why it looks like Latin at a glance.
Mental communication is denoted by a < and ends with a >, so a mental communication will look like this: "< Who are you? >"
Some warnings
:
This is erotic action adventure, meaning that there will be both sex and violence, but I don't mix the two.
This story is posted on the Literotica website and the author does not give permission for it to be reposted or reprinted anywhere else without consent.
P.S. I haven't gotten an editor yet, so any mistakes are mine. Interested editors are welcome :)
P.P.S. While you're here anyway, please rate the chapter and leave a comment :)
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Chapter 30 -- Modern life
Sunday, 25th of June 2000, Malaga, Spain
Ivan
True to his word, Julian slept on my sofa that night, but he took off right after breakfast, leaving me alone with the whole day to myself for the first time since I woke up from the trance.
My first stop was by the reception, where I got the man behind the desk to explain how the hotels laundry service worked. I also arranged for them wash everything I owned, except for the clothes I was wearing and the Iron-silk clothes. It wasn't much, and it made me realize, that I would need some more clothes if I were to look like a normal person, so I went shopping.
When I was done, I owned two more sets of clothes and two pairs of shoes as well as a suitcase large enough to hide the sword. Unlike the shorts I had bought earlier in the week, one of the sets was similar to what the locals used, giving me a chance to blend in if I needed to. I tried the sunglasses that everybody seemed to use, but found that it obscured my vision, so I bought a hat instead. It would still shield my eyes from the sun, and I didn't feel stupid wearing it.
I even bought a cell phone after a patient salesman had explained to me, that they could be bought with pre-paid local service. He had a long-winded sales talk, but for me it all boiled down to that I could buy a phone without showing papers that I didn't have. As all salesmen, he tried to sell me the most expensive one he had, but I kept explaining that I had no use for all the fancy things it could. He ended up selling me the simplest of the phones, though I did humour him in paying a little extra for getting a phone that was already charged, so I 'didn't have to waste valuable vacation time, while waiting for the battery to finish charging.'.
It even came with an instruction manual, and I read it all the way through as soon as I came back to my hotel room. As it turned out, it wasn't as difficult to use as I had feared, but it was still rather complicated for one that hadn't one ever before and it took me some time to get it to work.
Satisfied, I looked at the phone and realized I had absolutely nobody to call. The only person in the world I had a phone number for was Alice, and after Julian's talk about digital tracing, I was sure that the police had that one monitored.
Then I remembered the card that Sophia had given me the day before and called her, just to try it.
To my surprise, she not only answered the call, but she also agreed to join me for lunch, which had been my excuse for calling her.
After we had agreed to meet at two o'clock at Plaza de la Marina, I started to wonder what to wear. The information from the Trojan Women made it clear that when a man invited a woman to a meal, she expected him to dress nicely. The problem was that 'nicely' was vaguely defined, leaving me with no idea of what was expected. Then I remembered that there had been some magazines in the hotels reception and walked over there to look at them.
A quick flip-through of several magazines showed that men should be wearing a shirt with folded-up sleeves, pants, and leather shoes, instead of the t-shirt, shorts and sandals that seemed to be the clothes of choice for the tourists here. Fortunately, that was the same as most if the locals were wearing, so I already had that.
None of the pictures showed any money belts, meaning that I had to use my newly bought wallet. Ignoring jewelry, other frequent accessories were watches and sunglasses.
So, I fetched the bags from the safety deposit box at the harbour terminal and started to look through them to determine what I actually had, starting with the watches.
To my amusement, the boxes not only contained the watch pictured on the outside, but also papers that turned out to be some form for guarantee that the watch had been made by the watch company and had been legally sold.
Apparently even things like watches needed passports nowadays.
I quickly placed three of the watches in the boxes again, since they had a metal link strap, which I didn't like, and looked at the four that was left.
Two was made by a company called IWC and the two others were made by someone named Patek Philippe. All showed just about everything you ever needed to know about time, including time, day of the week, month, and year. Even moon phases were shown on the watch, though I couldn't think of a reason why anybody would need that in this modern age.
The two Patek Philippe was slightly bigger, so I put them back in the boxes again.
That left the two IWC watches. Both were named Grande Complication, but one was in gold with a brown strap and another in a silvery material with a black strap.
Taking a decision, I took the silvery watch and strapped it on my wrist, before spending half an hour reading the manual for the watch and getting it to work.
After that, I dressed up in the set of local clothes I had bought, folded up the sleeves and looked the mirror. Not bad, I decided. At least the fashion in the modern world was comfortable to wear and not as ridiculous as some other fashions I had tried during my time.
I laughed to myself as I remembered the Roman toga and the tall pointy hats some of the Scythians had worn. Goddess that had been bad.
Still chuckling, I turned my attention towards the bag with the money and simply turned it upside down over the bed. Stacks of paper money held together with bands poured out and landed on the bed, followed by several ID's and two leather folders.
Wanting to get the money out of the way as soon as possible, I ignored the last two items and stacked the bundles next to the sword in the new suitcase, counting while I did it.
"This is not good." I mumbled to myself, as the last bundle was number forty-nine. With ten thousand dollars per bundle, that was an awful lot of money and somebody was bound to come looking for them. Even if the owner was dead.
It was too late to change things now, so with a shrug, I placed the unused watches in the suitcase, along with some of the old stuff that I didn't use at the moment, like the gold and ivory toothbrush and comb. The laptop I had found in Curtis' house was next. I didn't have the first clue about how to use it, but there was a chance there was some valuable information on it, so I couldn't just throw it out.
Then I sat down on the bed and turned my attention towards the leather folders. Both those from the moneybag and the ones from the second safe in the house.
All held papers which, according to my knowledge from the women, looked like legal papers in English, Spanish and some languages that I didn't understand. I tried to read what I could but realized that my knowledge wasn't good enough to understand the complicated language. As far as I could tell, it was documents of ownership for land and other stuff in various countries: Bahamas, Malaysia, Mauritius, Brazil, Spain, Croatia, and Costa Rica.
Unfortunately, I didn't have a clue about where those countries were or what to do with the papers, so I placed them in the suitcase again and I turned my attention to the ID papers.
I studied Curtis' picture in the passports for a while, but no matter how I disguised myself, there was no way I could come to look like him, so unless I could switch out the picture, it was useless.
It didn't take long to determine, that changing the picture wasn't going to be easy. There was a thin layer of a transparent material over the passport and from the women I knew that it was most likely some kind of plastic. Not a material I was used to working with, but at least it wasn't magical.