The Unlikely Time Traveller Read Free Page B

that changed. I guessed maybe in the next hundred years computers would take over. Or war would wipe us all out, or if not war then a terrible disease.
    “Maybe we should add a bit to our letter to the future,” Agnes said, snapping me out of my doom and gloom thoughts.
    “Saying what? That all our clothes were made in China?”
    “No, we could tell them what bees were like, and swans too, just in case they become extinct. And cars as well.”
    Which reminded me of the picture of the NorthernLights in the time-capsule tin. I was going to get it and show it to Agnes, and check with her about the best spot for the sleeping bags, but as soon as I stood up I heard something like a twig cracking outside. Was there somebody out there spying on us? Or was it just that all the thinking about robots and zombies and plastic food and spinning wheels and war had made me edgy?
    “Relax,” Agnes said, “it’s just garden noises. Listen, the future might be wonderful. Better than we can even imagine. Everybody might be happy and healthy and peaceful. We might all learn to get on with each other. And share everything. Cheer up, Saul. People might pick up litter and dance in the street. Imagine that.” She laughed and tossed her head back. “We’ll all be dancing in the streets of Peebles!” Definitely the kind of thing her dad would say.
    “Might be,” I mumbled, so not convinced, “or maybe there won’t be any future. We might have blown the world up, or turned people into machines. What about Angus, thinking we’ll have microchips in our brains? That’s basically being a zombie. Great!”
    “Oh Saul, there are so many amazing people who really care about the planet and other people. I care. You care. And this wilderness is ours now.” She nodded to the big walled overgrown garden outside. “We’ll bring wild animals here and look after them. We could even have wolves and bears and beavers. And we won’t let any zombies in.” She laughed, like the future was one big party.
    “We’ll put up a sign: NO ZOMBIES ALLOWED. ”
    “The garden isn’t ours,” I reminded her. “This place, in the future, is gonna be yours .”
    “I’d share it. Course I would. It wouldn’t be much fun having a huge garden just for myself. I’d get so bored. Oh,cheer up Saul and have a chocolate raisin.” She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out a pretty grubby chocolate raisin. It looked like she’d been carrying it round in there for years, but I wasn’t fussy. I took it. “Think we should put some chocolate raisins in the tin?” She grinned. “In case they get extinct too.”
    “Na, no offence, but they’re already pretty ancient.”
    She popped one into her mouth all the same. Then she reached over and shook my arm. “Want to go and see?”
    “Uh, uh.” I shook my head so hard it hurt. I knew what she was hinting at, and I didn’t want to go and see. No way.
    Me and Agnes do actually know how to time travel. We met a time traveller once called Agatha Black who came here from 1812. She told us how to do it. Agnes and I have only time travelled once, back to 1914, and to be honest that was enough. It’s a seriously dangerous hobby.
    “You would have to be a total idiot to time travel into the future,” I said, reaching over and grabbing some peanuts from our upside-down-wooden-box table. Her one grubby chocolate raisin had given me an appetite. I stuffed the nuts into my mouth. “Or maybe totally brave. Braver than me anyway.” I shook my head, hard. “I’m good where I am, thanks. Maybe I’m like Robert Burns,” and I put on Robbie’s poem-speaking voice. “An’ forward , tho’ I canna see, I guess an’ fear !”
    Agnes looked serious for a bit, then nodded. “Yeah, I think you’re right. We are fine where we are. Right now I can’t think of anything more exciting than sleeping out in the garden watching the Aurora Borealis. That’ll be awesome enough. You’d have to be a major hero to time travel into