The Time Hunters (Book 1 of the acclaimed series for children of all ages) (5 page)

Chapter 6

A
Question of Time

Becky felt numb. Questions surged through her mind.
Then, as if to make matters worse, she heard a soft growl and felt a sharp tug
at the hem of her pajama bottoms. Looking down, she saw a small brown cat
gnawing on the fabric. Her eyeballs nearly popped from their sockets: a
Sabre-tooth tiger cub. ‘Get off,’ she yelled instinctively, giving the cub a
light kick. Uncle Percy’s head jolted up. Becky dipped behind the wall, but she
knew it was too late.

She’d been seen.
 

Colour drained from Uncle Percy’s face. ‘Oh,
crikey,’ he uttered.
‘SABIAN!
Come here…
NOW!’
 
The cub
released Becky’s robe and padded obediently over to him. Uncle Percy scooped
him up and took a very deep breath before he spoke, ‘You can come out now,
Becky.’

Becky emerged, her eyes fixed resolutely on the
ground. Hesitantly, Joe followed.

‘And Joe too, I see,’ Uncle Percy said flatly.
‘Deary me.’

‘It’s his fault.’ Becky nodded at Joe. ‘He was
spying on you.’

‘I wasn’t,’ Joe said defensively. ‘I - err - I woke
up, went to the loo, heard a roar outside and then - ’

‘That’s quite all right, Joe,’ Uncle Percy said.

‘That’s a - a - Sabre tooth tiger,’ Becky blustered.

Uncle Percy paused. ‘Yes. Her name’s Milly. She had
a nasty abscess on a back molar. We had to remove it.’
 
He gave a weak smile and held up the bloody
tooth as if it made the explanation more palatable.

‘But…it’s a Sabre-tooth t-tiger?’ Becky repeated.

‘A Smilodon, to be precise, and this little tyke is
her son, Sabian.’

‘How - how have you got a Sabre-tooth -’ Becky’s
words were interrupted by a deep rumbling sound beneath her feet.

‘Oh, no…’ Uncle Percy’s body seemed to deflate like
a balloon and he dropped the pliers on his foot. In that instant, the air
filled with thick streams of light.

‘What’s g-going on?’ Becky shouted, shielding her
eyes.

A mighty crack echoed all around. And then silence.
 
Slowly, Becky lowered her hand and gasped. A
milk float had materialised on the lawn.

*

Becky froze like a statue and gawped at the milk
float. A thickset middle-aged man in a racing green blazer and cravat was sitting
in the front seat. His fine blond hair, slicked back with wax, made his large
round head glisten like a Christmas bauble. ‘Greetings, Percy, old boy. What’s
the matter with Milly?’

‘Evening, Keith,’ Uncle Percy replied awkwardly.
‘Milly’s fine, she’s just sedated. We had to perform a minor tooth extraction.’

‘I see,’ the traveller replied.
 
‘Well, you’re quite right, of course. Best do
it
yourself,
most vets wouldn’t fancy a
twelve-thousand year old tiger on their operating table.’ He chuckled and his
chins rippled wildly. ‘Anyway, I found the Stonehenge manuscript you wanted.’
He pulled a folded piece of ragged brown parchment from his pocket.
 

‘Excellent.’ Uncle Percy’s eyes flicked from the
traveller to Becky and Joe.

‘You were right, Rodney Taylor had pinched it,’ the
traveller continued. ‘He’s a rum ‘
un
that one. Oh, and
you were right about something else. Bernard Preston had paid him a visit, and
it
was
about the manuscript.
So, whatever your theory about his murder is, well, you seem to be right on the
money.’

Suddenly the traveller noticed Becky and Joe and his
broad smile fell from his face. Turning back to Uncle Percy, he arched his
eyebrows. ‘Ooops, I didn’t -’

Uncle Percy shook his head and placed Sabian on the
grass. ‘Not to worry, Keith. Thanks for this.’ He seized the manuscript and
slipped it into his coat pocket. ‘Care for a nightcap?’

‘No thanks, Perce.
Things to do
and all that.’

‘Another time, then?’

‘Absolutely.
Anyway, must be off.’ Offering a hasty wave, the traveller fumbled about
frantically on the dashboard.
‘Cheerio, Perce, Will.
Ta ta everyone.’
A few moments later, the milk float had
vanished.

Uncle Percy unbuttoned his top collar and forced a
weak smile. ‘I do believe I have some explaining to do...’

‘T-that was a milk float,’ Becky said, staring at
the empty space where the milk float had been.

‘Yes it was.’

‘But - but it disappeared.’

‘Yes it did.’

‘How?’

Uncle Percy exhaled heavily. ‘Well, that’s because
it isn’t strictly a milk float. It’s a time machine.’

‘A time machine?’
Becky snorted.

 
‘Indeed. And
that gentleman was Keith Pickleton, a good friend of mine and a very
experienced time traveller.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Becky snorted. ‘Time travel
is
not
possible!’

Uncle Percy inclined his head towards the sleeping
tiger. ‘Well, I didn’t get Milly at Asda.’ He gave a half-hearted chuckle.

Becky’s head reeled.
‘But … h -
how?’

 
‘Well,
how
, would take some time to explain.
But the process involves Einstein’s general theory of relativity, time
dilation, four-dimensional wormholes, temporal curvatures, and quantum
mechanics. But you have no idea what I’ve just said, have you?’

‘Uh,’ Becky grunted.

‘And you’re a t-time traveller?’ Joe gasped.

‘I am,’ Uncle Percy said.
 
‘Now, I think we’d better get out of this
rain and have a little chat, don’t you?’

*

‘Drink up, you’ll feel better.’ Uncle Percy placed
two mugs before Becky and Joe. He pulled up a wooden chair and joined them at
the kitchen table. ‘Now, I’m sure you have lots of questions. So, please, fire
away …’

Becky and Joe sat there, staring dumbstruck at the
swirling liquid.

After a long pause, Joe spoke first, ‘Why doesn’t
Milly eat you?’

Uncle Percy smiled. ‘Well, she’s really very tame
and exceptionally loyal. And we do feed her well. Personally, I think she’d
rather chew on a juicy steak than my scrawny ankle.’

Becky didn’t smile. ‘Did you invent time travel?’

‘Good heavens, no. The credit for that belongs to a
remarkable scientist named Henry Locket in 1946 when he created ‘
Old Betty
’ the world’s first
operational time machine. Anyway, he told some of his contemporaries about
Betty and, before long, they were using his specifications to build their own
machines. Over the next few years, even though Locket insisted their activities
remain secret, word got out. By 1955 there were thirty two time travellers,
world-wide.’

‘And how many are there now?’ Becky asked.

‘Over two hundred.’

Becky couldn’t believe her ears.
‘Two
hundred?’

‘Oh, yes.’ Uncle Percy smiled weakly. ‘And it’s
quite the global affair.’

‘How did you get involved?’ Joe asked eagerly.

‘Well, much later, Henry Locket was one of my tutors
at Oxford. I had always been fascinated by the concept of time travel and,
aided by some fellow classmates, conducted some experiments of my own. Anyway,
I think Professor Locket appreciated our efforts and took us under his wing.
And that’s how I first became involved with the community.’

Becky took a moment to digest the information. ‘So…
what’s the future like?’

Joe’s eyes lit up. ‘
Do
Man
City ever win the Premiership?’

Uncle Percy gave a somewhat relieved laugh. ‘I have
no idea, to either question. You see, it is only possible to visit the
past
, and back again, of course, but
not the future. The limitations of the technology dictate that a time machine
can only ever return to the present, not travel to the future.’

‘It’s still pretty cool,’ Joe said. ‘I mean, you
could keep going back to 1966 to watch England win the World Cup.’

‘I knew someone that did precisely that,’ Uncle
Percy said, a slight edge to his voice.

‘So have you met any famous people?’ Joe asked.

Uncle Percy relaxed into his chair and tapped his
long fingers on his chin. ‘Let me see … I met William Shakespeare.’

Becky shuddered. That name had always filled her
with dread ever since she read Macbeth at school.

‘And what was he like?’ Joe asked.

‘As dull as his plays,’ Uncle Percy replied, winking
at Becky as though he could read her thoughts.

Becky grinned back at him. ‘Have you met anyone
else?’

‘I was fortunate enough to meet Gandhi; he was a
wonderful chap, great sense of humour. Martin Luther King - he was smashing, a
bona-fide gent. Florence Nightingale - she was an extraordinary woman and a
devilishly good poker player. Oh, and The Duke of Wellington, but I found him a
bit too big for his boots.’

Becky almost laughed but stopped when she noticed
Joe staring darkly at Uncle Percy. ‘What’s the matter with you?’

‘Will’s from the past, isn’t he?’

An uncomfortable silence cloaked the kitchen. After
a few seconds Uncle Percy spoke, ‘Yes.’

Joe nodded solemnly. ‘Who is he?’

A very slight smile formed on Uncle Percy’s face.
‘Well, I heard you mention a television programme about Robin Hood.’

Joe’s face ignited. ‘He’s Robin Hood!’

‘Err - not exactly,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘Robin Hood
didn’t exist. However, some of the Robin Hood legend is indeed based on fact -
the so-called merry men, for example, did exist. They did steal from the rich
and give to the poor.
 
And, for a while
at least, they all lived in the great trees of Sherwood. Their leader was -
’
 

‘- Will … Scarlet?’
Joe breathed.

‘I suppose so, yes,’ Uncle Percy said.

Then another voice floated on the air. ‘And methinks
I should have remained in my own time.’ Will stood at the kitchen door,
silhouetted by the glassy moon behind.

Joe’s jaw dropped. ‘You’re the
real
Will Scarlet?’

‘I am the real Will Shakelock.’

Dumbstruck, Joe asked, ‘So, why are you here, in our
time, I mean?’

‘Your uncle saved my life, and -’ Will paused, about
to say something else but changed his mind, ‘- and I owe him a great debt.’

‘You owe me nothing, Will,’ Uncle Percy said simply.
‘You know that.’

‘You saved his life?’ Joe said, looking at his uncle
with newfound admiration.

‘Not really. He’s exaggerating.’

‘He did a very fine thing,’
Will
added sincerely.

‘What?’ Joe asked.

Will was about to reply when Uncle Percy cut in.

‘It’s a long story that happened a very long time
ago,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘Besides, it’s late and -’

‘- And there is still one member of the household
yet to meet,’ Will said mysteriously. Becky and Joe swapped bewildered glances.
Someone else lived at Bowen Hall?

Will
whistled
loudly. A
sturdy, grey creature stomped into the kitchen and knocked over an umbrella
stand. About five
foot
in length, it had a large
fan-like plate on the back of its head. A horn protruded from its beak-like
mouth and two larger horns from above its eyes.

At first, Becky thought it was a rhinoceros. She was
wrong.

‘Ah, of course,’ Uncle Percy smiled. ‘Becky. Joe.
Meet Gump.’

After seconds of stunned silence, Becky managed to
speak. ‘I-It’s a d-dinosaur?’

‘Indeed, he is. A Triceratops,’ Uncle Percy said.
‘Only a baby, of course, an adult Triceratops would be as big as a lorry.’
 
He tickled Gump under his chin. ‘You can
stroke him if you’d like. He does enjoy a good mollycoddling.’

Trembling, Becky and Joe crouched beside the
Triceratops and patted him. Gump made a soft groan that sounded rather like a
cow mooing.

‘Anyway,’
Will
said. ‘I
shall retire to my lodgings and take our grey friend with me. I bid you sleep
well, although I predict that easier said than it is done.’ He smiled at Uncle
Percy. ‘I wish you luck, old friend.’

‘Thank you and good night, William.’

‘Night,’ Becky and Joe said at the same time.

‘Come, Gump.’ Will held a carrot to the Triceratops’
nostrils and moved towards the kitchen door. Gump followed.

Joe panted as Gump lumbered into the night. ‘Wait
‘til I tell Zimmo about this,’ he said, voice trembling. ‘He’ll never believe
me.’