‘Lots of little things.’
He looked at me, his eyes strangely fearful. ‘What sort of things?’
‘You were clueless about ordinary food.’
He groaned.
‘And you didn’t know things that everyone knows, like who Hitler was.’
Ryan rubbed the space between his eyes. ‘I looked him up after that history lesson.’
‘And then there was the way you asked me lots of things about myself but you were really evasive when I asked questions about you.’
He nodded, as though making a mental list of how to improve his undercover persona.
‘You told me that an environmental disaster wiped out all the trees in Wolfeboro, which isn’t true. I Googled it. At first I thought you were a member of a cult or a strange religious sect that kept you sheltered from the world.’
Ryan looked sideways at me and smiled thinly. ‘So what convinced you that wasn’t the explanation?’
‘The Journey To Eden.’
He swallowed hard. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Connor’s autobiography.’
‘You’ve lost me,’ he said, but the usual confidence had gone.
I unzipped my backpack and removed the book. ‘I accidentally took this home last night. I must have mixed it up with my own books.’
Ryan reached out, almost snatching the book. ‘How much of this did you see?’
‘I’ve seen all the photographs and read the first chapter,’ I said. ‘But really, even without the book, I knew there was something not quite right about you.’
‘Is it really so obvious?’ he asked. ‘Do you think anyone else has figured me out?’
I shook my head. ‘No one else suspects a thing. Just me.’
Ryan rubbed his fingers through his hair, frowning at the floor.
‘So, now that I know your secret, are you going to have to kill me?’ It was meant to be a joke and I attempted a laugh, but the sound came out all wrong.
‘No. You’re safe. I’m the one who’s dead.’
‘Why? It’s hardly your fault I figured you out.’
‘Ben and Cassie will kill me. I’m not supposed to bring anyone home. And I shouldn’t have left the book out. I was reading it before you came yesterday and I just shoved it under a pile of school books. I panicked.’
‘They can’t blame you. You didn’t invite me. I just turned up.’
‘I shouldn’t have let you in. I’m supposed to make an excuse if anyone shows up at the door. We have to keep a distance.’
‘So why didn’t you?’
He looked across at me. ‘I couldn’t. You’d walked down the lane in that gale with no coat to bring me my jacket. You looked so cold and I just couldn’t . . .’ He trailed off.
‘I would have worked it out anyway,’ I said. ‘There were so many little things that didn’t add up.’
Ryan looked at me and smiled. ‘You know, for someone in your time, discovering that your friend is a time traveller from the future must be quite a big deal. How come you seem so unsurprised?’
I shrugged. ‘It has been said that I’m hard to impress.’
‘Along with beautiful, smart and completely unshockable.’
I felt my face begin to heat up. I wished to God that I could learn to take compliments. ‘So are you going to answer my question?’
‘You’ll have to remind me what it was.’
‘What year are you from?’
He hesitated, as though considering for one last time the possibility of not telling me. A flash lit up the room and was quickly followed by a rumble of thunder. The overhead lamp flickered and then died.
‘Hold on a sec.’ Ryan rummaged around in his desk drawer.
He found a pack of twelve candles and a lighter. He put one half of the candles on the desk, the other half on the windowsill. As he moved the flame over the wicks, each of the candles flickered to life, casting a soft pool of wavering light.
Ryan sat back on the bed. ‘I was born in February 2105. I travelled back in time from 2122.’
I tried to work it out in my head. I had been born in 1995. Ryan was a hundred and ten years younger than me.
‘You’re seventeen?’ was all I said.
Ryan nodded. ‘I just said I was sixteen so I could join your Year Eleven class.’
I glanced again at the pile of books on the floor beside his bed: Of Mice and Men, Romeo and Juliet, Great Expectations.
‘You’ve already left school. No wonder you keep getting top marks in all your English assignments.’
Ryan laughed. ‘Brilliant. I tell you I’m from the future and you’re annoyed that I’m better than you at English.’
‘You’re not better than me,’ I argued. ‘You studied the course before.’
‘I have studied Romeo and Juliet before. And Macbeth. But Dickens and Steinbeck weren’t on my syllabus. We studied mostly late twenty-first century writers.’
‘You studied writers who haven’t even been born.’
He shrugged one shoulder. ‘Yeah.’
‘But Shakespeare is still on the syllabus?’
‘We had to study pre-2050 literature.’
Outside, the wind changed direction and the rain started pelting against the window.
‘Nice weather you have down here,’ said Ryan. ‘It’s supposed to be summer.’
I shrugged. ‘Good try, changing the subject. What’s the weather like on Eden?’
Ryan smiled. ‘Nice try. But I can’t tell you about Eden. It’s forbidden by the Laws of Temporal Integrity.’
‘The laws of what?’
‘Temporal Integrity. Laws of time. One of the most important laws is that nothing of the future is ever to be revealed to inhabitants of the past.’
I gave a short laugh. ‘Bit late for that.’
Ryan sighed. ‘I’m already in more trouble than you can possibly imagine.’
‘I know you’re from the future,’ I said. ‘And I know you’re here because of Connor. Connor discovers a planet.’
‘Which he calls Eden after you.’
‘Eden is an obvious name for a planet. It probably has nothing to do with me.’
Ryan laughed. ‘Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions here, but Connor’s best friend is called Eden. And Connor names his planet Eden. Of course it could be a coincidence.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘It doesn’t matter why he called the planet Eden. What matters is that you’ve travelled back in time and I want to know why. It’s to do with Connor, isn’t it?’
Ryan sipped his coffee. ‘I can’t tell you why I’m here.’
‘Ryan, I don’t care about your “Temporal Laws” or whatever they’re called. Like I already said, it’s a bit late for that.’
‘Eden, this is serious. Backwards time travel is more or less prohibited. In the few instances it’s allowed, the rules are clear. Do not communicate anything about the future to the inhabitants of the past. Knowing the future can change the future.’
‘I already know the future.’
‘You do. But I can’t risk telling you anything else.’
‘You don’t trust me?’
‘It has nothing to do with trust. Even in my own time, nobody will know the real reason for my mission. There will be a cover story.’
I sipped my coffee. ‘How do I know you’re a good guy and not a bad guy if you won’t tell me why you’re here?’
Ryan frowned. ‘You think I might be a bad guy?’
‘I know that Connor isn’t.’
Ryan sighed deeply. ‘Connor isn’t a bad guy. But neither am I.’
‘You expect me to just accept that because you said so?’
He hesitated. ‘You’re right. You do know too much already.’ He looked into my eyes. ‘But you have to promise me that you will never, ever repeat what I tell you.’
‘I can keep a secret.’