Thank you for your patience in reading this series. I apologize for not responding to the kind comments for chapter 2. I am currently without internet service on my computer, so I'll see if the local library will allow me to post from a USB fob. I'm going to be trying to post this on July 9 to publish on July 10. If I am able to and I don't respond to your comments, please don't take it personally. Your comments are still welcome and will be cherished. Tips about WIFI PCI cards are welcome as well, because that may be an option for me. Again, thank you for reading.
Chapter 3 is below the orange antimacassar.
Sherlock Holmes in Space -- The Knower -- Chapter 3
a story by jabney based on (the now public domain) characters created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Having been consigned to the role of, "Poor Watson" in this exchange, I confess that I took some degree of pleasure in observing Holmes's reaction. Then Edgar added, "I am, of course, delighted that you are here. And, frankly, more than a little surprised. Cody has a way with anti-salesmanship. I'm guessing he went into great detail about the life-span ramifications of your time spent in the future."
Holmes chuckled morbidly and said, "A bit."
"Overly cautious, I say. I told him," said Edgar, "Don't dawdle and take only the time needed to assure you that your time here will neither deplete nor enhance the number of days you may expect to experience. Barring a fatal accident, of course." With this last phrase he looked at me.
"Of course," I said. "But getting back on topic (I hoped at least that a fatal accident was not on topic) if you don't know why your crew brought us here, who does?"
"I could speculate," Edgar said, "But I find speculating tends to yield inaccurate results at best, and a Knower speculating is even worse. Gentlemen, you can only imagine the caveats I would have to use were I to attempt to speculate."
"I thought you were quite succinct with the wording you had suggested to Cody," Holmes said in a tone of voice that suggested some degree of respect for the older gentleman.
"Thank you, Mr Holmes. As you have no doubt deduced, I have another reason for avoiding speculation at this time."
"And that is?" I said.
"Efficiency, Dr Watson. Efficiency and factuality."
"I say Holmes, makes one wish we had a Knower in England."
"But of course we do have such a person, don't we Edgar?"
"I believe you call him the King."
"The King?" I said.
Holmes smiled a thin smile at me and said, "The one person in the Kingdom that can be trusted with any secret of state." He then turned to Edgar and said, "If you will allow me to speculate..." Edgar nodded in the affirmative, "Chaos and treachery abounded when once-cohesive societies developed elaborate secretive ways without a Knower."
"That, Mr Holmes, is as good a description as any. Although modesty and attention to diplomatic niceties preclude me from speaking quite so bluntly."
"Well, Holmes," I said, "One might be excused for saying that your brother, Mycroft, and you too are true knowers."
"Mycroft, of course, will have to speak for himself. But the difference, Watson, between my knowing and the King's knowing is that I have the luxury of choosing what I wish to know. His Majesty has a duty to the Kingdom; my duty is to the client. And justice, of course. Though I'm certain there have been times when the good Inspector Lestrade may have disagreed with my definition of that word."
Edgar laughed and said, "You should have seen the look on our Director Parrish's face when he learned we were bringing you here. Not to worry too much, though. Both you and Dr Watson are officially here under diplomatic cover."
"You mean medals and sashes and fancy dress balls?" I said.
"No medals or sashes, I assure you. Though there is a great deal of sentiment in favor of welcoming you with at least one gala event. I think the Admiral has been able to schedule that for your triumphant departure, though."
"Please sir," said Holmes, "Don't let Dr Watson's trepidations about the terpsichorean arts cause you to violate any time travel rules."
"Holmes!" I said, "I'll have you know that I'm a rather good dancer. At least that's what some of London's finest ladies have told me to my face."
"As you may have heard, Edgar, the finest ladies of London are renowned for being kind and diplomatic." Holmes turned to me, raised an eyebrow, and then turned back to the Knower, "I do think it should be something of a treat for Watson, this being a diplomat and all."
Edgar said, "It's mostly about being able to tear-up parking tickets with impunity. But it may be useful when..."
Learning of the additional usefulness would have to wait because at that moment came a sound of such great terror and dark mystery that I still shudder to think of it. For the sake of future history though, (why is time travel so easy to experience yet so tricky to write about?) I will try to describe the sound. Or, more accurately the sounds.
Strangely enough, I had already heard most of the sounds. And in one single day. But they were not simultaneous. Though I later would wish they had been. Suffice it to say that an army surgeon reporting to headquarters during the heat of war is a rare thing. But when the journey is to learn a new technique that promised to save life and limb, need I tell you the eager anticipation that I felt as I reached the depot?
I had a clear view of the massive locomotive as it thundered round a bend prior to reaching the straightaway that paralleled the platform. I also had a clear view of the lumbering freight train that some dunderhead had allowed to approach at full speed in the opposite direction. The crashing and tearing of metal was only the loudest sound that day. The screams of the steam-scalded crew that rose and then fell away as I ran to reach the scene were the most blood curdling. But what stood out was the anguish of pain and lost future that one native lad tried so hard to suppress as I sawed away the mangled leg that had him trapped beneath a smoldering baggage car. That broke my heart. I had to fight back my tears at the time to keep from contaminating the wound. Though I would cry later. I supposed that had ended. I was wrong.
"You're crying, Watson," Holmes said, "I've never seen you do that."
"Sorry, Holmes, that hideous sound reminded me of..."
"Later, Watson, I'm certain that when you choose to tell me your story, I shall not have forgotten what we heard." Sherlock Holmes turned to Edgar and said, "Good Heavens man, what was that!?"
"It's loudest here. The Captain said you would want to be as close to... it, as possible. The Admiral and Cody insisted that we prepare an alternate suite for the two of you, should the Captain have been mistaken about your preferences."
Holmes spoke first, "I'm looking forward to meeting the Captain. And you Watson?"
I said, "Of course, but for now, I think the primary mission should be helping those poor... creatures. The anguish and despair sounds almost unbearable. As if pain would be an almost welcome distraction."
Edgar said, "A good analysis by your colleague, Mr Holmes."
"At least Dr Watson has provided us with a good analysis of the emotions involved with the sound," said Holmes. "I'll not play guessing games, though, sir. Who or what made that noise?"
There was a soft knock and the Admiral and Cody were waiting with a third person at the door. Even I did not need the deductive powers of Sherlock Holmes to tell me I was looking at the glowering face of a member of the ship's constabulary. A high-ranking member, at that. Edgar said, "Director Parrish, I'm glad you are here too. May I introduce..."
"Yes, yes, the infamous trivializer of good, solid police work, Dr John Watson, and the renowned flouter of procedure, Mr Sherlock Holmes."
Holmes extended his hand and said, "I am always pleased to meet a police official willing to speak bluntly and openly. Your reputation has already reached the ears (here Holmes gave an almost imperceptible glance at Edgar's device glowing on the table) in our little, ah, 'Embassy' would you call it, Edgar?"
Edgar said, "Call it 'Home.' And for as long as you wish."
Holmes said, "I thank you for your hospitality, though I hope we shan't be delayed too much longer than need be. Scotland Yard can use all the help it can get these days."
Director Parrish covered his mouth as if coughing. It sounded almost like, "Poor Lestrade."