Below the Orange antimacassar, blah blah blah (storms 'a comin' abbreviated intro)
Other Chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Sherlock Holmes in Space -- The Knower -- Chapter 19
a story by jabney based on (the now public domain) characters created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
"Look over there Watson!" as we returned to the grill where Doxy was just about to place the first batch of chicken thighs on it, "What are the two dogs up to right now?"
"Behaving like two hounds around a lot of new people. And... Spot, the unspotted mechanical dog, keeps trying to sniff Sparky's hind end. Sparky is not reciprocating, though."
"So we can assume that Spot's sense of smell is either non-existent or, if there at all, is nowhere close to that of a real dog's."
"Sorry to interrupt Mr Holmes, but it's just about time for the chicken thighs to go on the grill. I believe you wanted a sample of the smoke residue at this stage."
"Thank you Doxy, and thank you for providing a ladder. If your hospitality is representative of your native New Jersey then the residents of our own Jersey may indeed be proud."
"Thank you Mr Holmes. It depends on what part of New Jersey, of course, but in general it's a hospitality that tends to be acted out rather than spoken about. Or at least was."
Homes nodded his head thoughtfully and then he climbed the ladder to get a sample of the smoke residue. "Ouch! Gets hotter more quicly than I would have thought."
"Would you like a pair of gloves?"
"No thank you Doxy. The heat I feel is not as great as the heat to which the pages of the booklet are exposed. My sense of self-preservation may help to keep me from burning the paper."
"And you wouldn't want a more heat resistant medium because you've already started with the booklet. That's one variable you avoid having to compensate for."
"Jerome, I wish I could say that was the primary reason, but in truth, I chose what was convenient."
"And what seemed the convenient thing to choose turns out to have been the most scientifically valid. At least based on what you had at hand. A mind such as yours must make the right choices almost every time."
"Holmes, take Jerome's compliment at face value. Please. He's right."
"Thank you Jerome. Your words are kind. Watson, I shall refrain from protest, if you will continue to monitor Sparky's reaction."
"Hearing his name caught his attention. But only briefly. I wonder how... Spot... will react to hearing his name."
"Not well when you say it with that much emphasis. Poor Spot probably thinks he is about to be scolded."
"You're right Holmes. When you said his name casually, his reaction was similar to Spar... uh, the real canine's."
"Good. Now, without appearing to look at our canine friends, watch for any reaction to the sound of Doxy putting the meat on the grill. I'm going to be busy collecting smoke samples."
There was a sizzling sound and, while the real dog and his mechanical rival paid some attention, it paled in comparison to the reaction of the two legged attendees. Control seemed to notice this too and she said, "As tea time is to England, I surmise, so the outdoor grill is to America. That is to say, it is much more than taking nourishment."
Otis heard this and said, "It actually took the promise that the size and the projected eventual resorces of the SS Oligarch would allow such luxuries as the occasional back-yard cookout before the size of the human cohort reached critical mass."
"Cave-man want fire," said Control in a deep voice.
"With a tomato-based sauce," added Doxy.
I admired Sherlock Holmes for his determination in persisting with the smoke residue sampling. Sparky, the real dog, was the first to notice the heavenly savory smell coming from the grill, and followed by Spot who seemed to reacting more to the visual action, started to edge closer to the cooking meat. The people present did the same.
Doxy lifted an edge of one of the chicken thighs, looked closely, but did not turm it over, "Tell Sparky not to worry, Yvonne, there will be enough for him too. This is the first of two batches."
"None for Spot?"
"No way! From the stories I've heard about Chalfont, I would think that one mechanical creature that 'eats' is enough for any vessel."
"Most of those stories are urban legends," said Control. "Chalfont's appetite actually disguises a rather elaborate garbage and trash collection system. Otis outdid himself designing that one."
"And managed to get himself listed as an R-rated coder in the process," said Evan.
"I can't help it if the S.I.T. manages to postulate ridiculously improbable scenarios for even the most benign of devices. And especially one that would have encouraged responsible re-cycling behavior."
Jerome said, "It was the easily changed appearance of the face that was the deal-breaker. I mean, giving grade-school youngsters the power to model the garbage-eater to look like the teacher? Maybe you wouldn't have yielded to that temptation Otis, but I certainly would have."
"Me too," said Yvonne. "Especially that teacher in the fourth grade. Evan what was her name?"
"I have made it a point to forget fourth grade. It didn't matter how quickly you solved an arithmetic problem, you were supposed to go into gruesome detail about each step. And in the non-standard terms used in the textbook. You'd fail if you used another, equally valid word."
"I think that was when the school board was taken over by the tiger mom's or something."
"Tiger mom's?"
"These were people who thought China was the perfect model for molding a society, Mr Holmes. Lots of emphasis on obedience, essentially no emphasis on creativity. Evan got in trouble for tagging the Board of Ed building with a slogan."
"Tagging?" I said.
"Writing something with spray paint. Got detention and almost got expelled. It was worth it, though. The voters wised up in the next election, and I like to think this little fourth grader played a role in that."
"I never heard that story," said Jerome. "What did it say?"
"I think it was more when than what. There was to be a public meeting and I tried to think of the most succinct thing I could say in ten letters, one for each panel on the front of the building. Came up with, "Gang Of Four" and put dashes to separate the words."
"Johnny Rotten's band after the Sex Pistols?"
"John Lyden's band was P.I.L, I think, and any musical identification of Gang of Four came from... but Dr Watson's not supposed to be hearing about that part of history, so let's change subjects. Who brought deviled eggs?"