Here we go

It was the day before Vanderdecken12, err, Gregory, was supposed to lower the shield. I had finally completed the time machine and I plugged it into my computer. A strange 'welcome' screen appeared, and then a document explaining that I had just stumbled upon a time machine.

Type: 2
Reload:  36 hours
Gap:  5 minutes
Limits:  None


This was strange. I clicked each one.


Type: 2
   Denotes that use of time machine may cause alteration in the time-space continuum based on actions of user. Similar to the VCR-effect. Everything happening between entry and arrival to past is erased. Acts as a type-3 when in area previously accessed by a type-1


Reload: 36 hours
   Denotes that it will take 36 hours after previous use before reuse.


Gap: 5 minutes
   Denotes that user has 5 minutes to go through once wormhole is open. Allow non-users access as well during this period.


Limits: None
   You may go wherever you want, whenever you want with this machine. However, going certain extreme distances may increase reload time.


So I guess some computer-genius time-traveler figured all this out before and programmed computers to do it. Anyway, just today, I was waiting for the electrical surge that would indicate the time-travel blockade would be shut down. Jordan, that guy Peter's been talking to a lot (and I guess he told him about our time-machine), approached us this morning. "You want t' take me with yah?" he asked.
"We shouldn't." I said, "you already exist in the past."
"That's why I think y' should take me."
"What?"
Well, if I die...it's no loss to me. I'll still be alive. I can be your bodyguard." he seemed to plead.
"Let's let him, Ben." Peter encouraged me, "we could use him."
I was about to object when Gregory himself walked into the room. I looked up in shock at the man who looked so much like Vanderdecken12, yet looked so much different. It was him alright. Just more tired-looking, scruffy, and frazzled. He looked sick beyond belief. Yet he stood up straight and spoke powerfully. 
"Are you ready, Benjamin?" he asked me.
"Yes,"
"Here is the time and coordinates for you to enter." he handed me a sheet with numbers on it, "And here is what you are to give my younger self." he handed me a sealed letter.
Peter looked at him, "are you sure you made the right decision?"
"No, that is why I am correcting it. I was a fool to allow the others access to the cookie."
"Not that. I mean to take over the world government."
Gregory stared at him, "I am certain. Only a fool would believe that the world was a better place before I began making my improvements.
Peter smiled as one smiles when they listen to someone spout their obviously-wrong political beliefs and you know they're wrong but you also know there's no way you can convince them that they're wrong. Yeah, that smile.
"Let me get one thing straight." he looked at Peter, then at me, "What I did was good and just and necessary. There's no way you can deny that. You must see that this is true. You are going to the past to help me fix my one mistake." he help up his finger to signify that there was only one, "nothing more."
They were glaring at each other. I looked at Gregory, then at Peter, then back to Gregory, "you want us to leave now?"
"Yes. Go."
I activated the time machine, but rather than just disappearing, a portal appeared, about 5 feet in diameter.
Jordan dove through first, then  Peter. I looked back at Gregory, trying to see if there was any Vanderdecken12 left. But what I saw disappointed me gravely. Vanderdecken12, though it may look otherwise, was no more. And then Bob Simmons dashed into the room.
"What are you doing?" he asked Gregory angrily, "you were not to leave your designated building."
"I'm not taking orders anymore. And next time, I'm not making that mistake." he pointed to me. And then something clicked for Bob, and he panicked.
"Guards! Guards!" he fled the room.
"Bob Simmons was one of your closest advisors?" I asked in stricken amazement.
"Time's change, Benjamin."
"You don't have to tell me that..." I muttered, and then I dove through the portal.