cricket team?â he said.
Bigmac blinked.
âWhat? How should I know?â
âWho won the Boat Race last year?â
âWhat boat race?â
The policeman looked again.
âAnd whatâs that on your belt?â
Bigmac blinked again, and looked down.
âI didnât nick it,â he said quickly. âItâs only a transistor, anyway.â
âWhatâs that wire going into your ear?â
âDonât be daft. Itâs only the earphoneââ
The policemanâs hand landed on his shoulder with the kind of thud that suggested it wasnât going to let go in a hurry.
âYou come along with me, Fritz,â he said. âI wasnât born yesterday.â
Bigmacâs brain drifted into focus. He looked at the uniform, and at the crowd behind it, and it began to dawn on him that he was all alone and a long, long way from home.
âI wasnât born yesterday, either,â he said. âDoes that help?â
Johnny, Kirsty and Yo-less sat in a little garden. As far as Johnny could tell, it was where part of the ring road and a traffic island were going to be one day. Now it contained a bench and some geraniums.
âTheyâll blow up Paradise Street tonight,â said Johnny.
âWhereâs that?â said Yo-less.
âHere. Itâs where the sports centre was ⦠will be, I mean.â
âNever heard of it.â
âYes. I did say . It got blown up. And you know the funny thing about it?â
âThereâs something funny about it?â said Kirsty.
âIt was by accident! The Germans had meant to bomb the big goods yard at Slate! But they got a bitlost and the weather turned bad and they saw the railway yards here and dropped all their bombs and went home. Everyone was in bed because the air raid sirens didnât go off in time!â
âAll right, all right, I know, youâve told me before, and all about Adolf and Stalin. Itâs very sad but you shouldnât get worked up about it,â said Kirsty. âItâs history. That sort of thing happens in history.â
âArenât you listening? It hasnât happened yet . This is now . Itâs going to happen tonight .â
They stared at the geraniums.
âWhy havenât we gone back yet?â said Kirsty. âWeâve been here ages .â
âHow should I know?â said Johnny. âMaybe the further you go, the longer you stay.â
â And we just happened to go to somewhere you know all about,â said Yo-less. âThatâs a bit strange, in my opinion.â
It had worried Johnny, too. Everything felt real, but maybe heâd just gone mad and taken everyone else with him.
âI donât want to stay here, thatâs definite,â said Yo-less. âBeing Little Black Sambo isnât my idea of a full life.â
Johnny stood up and grasped the handles of the trolley.
âIâm going to see Paradise Street,â he said.
âThatâs a very bad idea,â said Kirsty. âI told you, anything you do affects the future.â
âIâm only going to have a look.â
âOh yes? I find that very hard to believe, actually.â
âSheâs right,â said Yo-less, trying to keep up. âYou shouldnât mess around with Time. I read this book where a man went right back in time and trod on ⦠on a dinosaur, and changed the whole future.â
âA dinosaur?â said Kirsty.
âI think it was a dinosaur. Maybe they had small ones.â
âHuh. Or he was a very big man, perhaps,â said Kirsty.
The trolley bumped off the pavement, rattled across a road, and clanked up the pavement on the other side.
âWhatâre you going to do?â said Kirsty. âKnock on peopleâs doors and say, âExcuse me, some bombers are going to bomb this street tonightâ?â
âWhy not?â
âBecause theyâll lock you
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
John O'Riley
Brenda Sinclair
Christopher George
Stephen Lloyd Jones
Karl Iagnemma
Celya Bowers
Jill Gregory
Aria Cunningham