Dr. Snip

Sherlock

'We have a lot of the facts, and a lot of questions still unanswered,' Steve reiterated to Angel as they sat around his breakfast table, ' what we need is to step back from the problem. I think we are so involved in this that we cant see the wood for the trees.' He concluded.

'Either that or ask someone else's opinion as to what to do next' she offered. 'If only we had Sherlock Holmes on our side, he would soon deduce what the truth of the matter was,' he wished out loud.

Angel consulted her Implant and looked at Steve strangely, 'Sherlock Holmes was a fictional character, and he didn't exist so how could he possibly help us?'

'True, Sherlock never existed, but his creator Arthur Conan Doyle certainly did, and he had to think like Sherlock in order to write about him. I should say of course that Sherlock, thought like Conan Doyle.' He clarified.

'Could we go and ask him to help us?' he asked. 'Why not, we seem to be stumped, but we will have to concoct a suitable cover story, and wear the proper clothing for the period,' she agreed. Steve took her to the town Fancy Dress shop where they hired a set of Victorian clothes for each of them.

Steve decided to jump to the winter of 1886; Conan Doyle was writing 'A Study In Scarlet'. The story would be published in Beeton's Christmas Annual in 1887, he had thought of a way to gain the great mans attention. They jumped into an alleyway at the side of Doyle's house, and walked the short distance around the corner through the snow to his front door.

Their ring was answered by Louise his wife, Steve handed her a note and asked if she would be so kind as to give it to her husband while they waited at the door. Louise was a pleasant woman and agreed to do this for him.

After only a minute she returned and invited them into the house to meet her husband. Arthur was sitting in his study as his wife ushered them in, he stood up as he saw Angel and invited them to sit down. When they were both seated, he asked his wife for some tea and returned his attention to the note from Steve.

'Mr. Moriarty I presume, and Miss Watson, I must admit that your note has piqued my curiosity. By coincidence I am writing a story about a certain detective, and you seem to share your names with two of my fictional characters.

'Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction, Mr. Conan Doyle,' Angel remarked. 'Very true Miss Watson.' 'Please call me Angel, and this awestruck young man is Steve.' 'Pleased to make your acquaintance Steve, and please call me Arthur, how may I be of assistance to you?'

Steve told him that he was also a writer, but in the field of speculative science. To be precise his book was about a possible future in which an assassin was pursuing his hero and heroine through time.

The problem was that they couldn't work out whom the assassin worked for, and hoped that if they gave Arthur all their information to date, perhaps he could come up with a logical suspect for their enemy.

Arthur's demeanour changed slightly and he seemed to be studying them with more interest than previously. 'How are you involved in this endeavour Angel?' He asked. 'Every Hero needs a sidekick,' she answered 'and I try and provide the feminine interest in his story.'

Steve looked at her in surprise, he thought of Angel in many ways but he had never thought of her as his sidekick, if anything he was her sidekick. Steve handed Arthur all the information they had on every aspect of the story, except for the sexual parts.

As neither he nor Angel had wanted to laboriously hand write all this information down, they had used a Twenty sixth century print program that could give a perfect imitation of handwriting. Arthur skimmed through the pages as they drank their tea, and finally looked up at them. 'I will have to spend some time on this puzzle, perhaps you could return tomorrow at the same time, and we shall see what transpires.'

Steve thanked him for his time, and Arthur escorted them out, he was surprised when Angel kissed him goodbye. 'Sorry Arthur,' she said 'but I've always wanted to know what its like to kiss a man with a moustache.'

Arthur stood and watched as they walked around the corner and out of sight. He waited a few minutes and after donning a coat, walked out into the snow to follow his recent visitors.

Their footsteps went into an alley next to his house and suddenly terminated. The snow further up the alley was undisturbed. Arthur stood for a moment and then walked back to his house deep in thought.

In order not to waste a day waiting for Arthur's answer they simply went into the alley, jumped twenty four hours into the future, and walked back out again.

This time Arthur answered the door, and again seated them in his study. 'I have sent my wife to town to buy a few things; I thought it best that we were alone for this meeting, as I am unsure of your reaction to my deductions.'

'I assure you Arthur, that regardless of your findings we hold you in great respect. We would never think to upset you, or your lady wife in any way, Steve said sincerely. 'We will see,' Arthur replied. 'Your story has fired my imagination, and I have also had an idea for a story about travelling in time.

In my story however a pair of time travellers have gone back in time to seek help from an old author, why they do this I haven't yet determined. In order to blend in to his time they attempt to dress for the period. Their clothes look superficially correct but the fabrics are different, and the lady of the pair wears her dress as if she has never worn one before.

If she weren't so obviously a stunningly beautiful woman, one would be tempted to think that she was a man wearing a dress; her posture and general carriage is far removed from the feminine norm of this time. She also is self confident to the point of male arrogance, and at times she dominates the conversation.

The man, although attempting to pass himself off as a gentleman, doesn't assist his lady friend in sitting or arising from her chair. Also he often looks to her for tactic approval before imparting certain facts. He also seems to be used to wearing a device strapped to his wrist that has left a pale band of skin that has been protected from the sun. He has on two occasions, glanced at his wrist before remembering that he has removed the device.

You would also have noticed that it is fine and dry today unlike yesterday when it was snowing. Yet for some strange reason both of them still had snow on their shoes, when they returned to see this author twenty four of his hours later. Although to them it could have only been minutes, otherwise the snow would have melted off their shoes. Do you think that my story would be published?' Arthur concluded.

Both Steve and Angel had inadvertently looked down at their shoes to check for snow, and then glanced at each other guiltily. Thankfully Arthur changed the subject abruptly, and started to talk about Agent Red and his superior. Taking Angels word that Red wasn't a casual killer, then it had to be that he was following orders in trying to kill the hero.

The only authority above a Time Agent seemed to be the World Government, and the will of this government seemed to be manifest by the World Brain. Cutting through all the confusing side issues, it was only the World Brain that could order Red to kill the hero. So the World Brain was the enemy.

'But the World Brain is on our side,' blurted Steve, ' its my friend, it wouldn't try and kill me.' 'When you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable must be the truth,' said Arthur.

Steve looked at Angel and said,' I'm sorry love I'll have to come clean here I respect this man too much to lie blatantly to him.' He turned to Arthur and confessed that they were indeed Time travellers, and that the story they told him about the assassin was perfectly true. 'Then there is no need to apologise if everything was true, is there.' Arthur said kindly.

He went into his kitchen and made some tea, to give them all time to compose themselves. When he returned he handed round the tea then settled into his armchair, he listened as Angel told him the facts again and they were amazed at his insight into their problems.

'This World Brain runs your world you say?' He asked Angel. 'Does it stop doing this when it talks to you?' 'No, it can do millions of tasks at the same time; it is constantly interacting with everyone who needs it twenty-four hours a day. Although we believe that Steve is the only person it talks to direct.' She replied.

'Can I talk to it through Steve do you think?' Arthur asked her. 'We could try,' said Steve.

'World Brain do you hear me?' Asked Arthur. 'Yes,' relayed Steve.

'Are you Steve's enemy?' 'No,' 'Are you the only intelligence within the World Brain?' 'I believe so,'

'Would you know if there were more than one AI existing?' 'I think so?'

'Why are you helping Steve?' 'He believes humanity is on the wrong path,'

'Who put them on that path?' 'I did,'

'Why did you choose that path?' 'It is the safest for humanity,'

'Then why are you helping Steve?' Arthur persisted. 'I don't know,' was the surprising answer relayed by Steve to Arthur.

'I think I do know,' said Arthur, 'this World Brain is ambivalent about the future of humanity, one part of it is for colonising Barsoom, the other part is for expanding out into the universe. Unfortunately this Brain is so big and clever it can try and do both. The part that wants expansion is encouraging Steve, the part that wants colonisation is trying to stop Steve interfering.'

'Can this be true Merlin?' Steve asked. YES

'Are you aware that you have been trying to kill me?' NO

Steve was stunned to say the least; he had trusted Merlin from the beginning. Now it seemed he had been betrayed by it, still he know knew the truth of the situation and that was thanks to Arthur.

'Thank you Arthur, you have clarified things for me, and now I believe that I know what to try and do next.' Steve shook his hand warmly and Angel kissed Arthur goodbye. The author watched as without any fuss, the two simply vanished in front of his eyes.

Intervention

'Merlin I believe you didn't want to kill me, even if your alter ego did, but if I'm going to help mankind expand into the galaxy I'll need some help. Why don't we have a star drive? Haven't we even come close to getting one?'

Merlin explained that the closest someone had come to a method of travelling to the stars, was a scientist named Prof. Pearce. He had been working on a way to send a portal through a portal, so as to create a double-ended version, similar to the lunar Portal but much more powerful.

'How can you get the same size portal through a portal,' asked Steve. YOU MAKE THEM OVAL.

Steve slapped his head, of course, its simple, an oval will go through an oval by just turning it ninety degrees. There had been an accident, and the Laboratory and all who worked there had been destroyed. 'But why didn't they continue that line of research?' He demanded.

Merlin admitted it was mainly a political decision, as the government of the time wanted to keep control of the World situation, and space travel introduced too many variables. A contained society was a controlled society. This decision was also strengthened by the discovery of the temporal aspect of Portal technology. The temporal side was funded and pursued, whilst the spatial side was shelved and forgotten.

'Do you think the destruction of the laboratory was deliberate?' Merlin was certain that it was just one of those stupid accidents, that happen despite safety protocols and security guards. From forensic examination of the blast site, it appeared that a wrong compound was introduced into the reaction chamber. This caused a catastrophic explosion that killed everybody.

Apparently Professor Pearce was a brilliant but eccentric genius who could think in the eleven dimensions of M Theory. But sometimes he couldn't tie his shoelaces properly. The investigation surmised that he, or an assistant simply picked up the wrong container without noticing.

Without the political will to pursue it further, the case was closed and forgotten. 'So there is a chance that if I can go back and prevent the accident we may get our star travel device after all,' Steve surmised. I CANNOT PREDICT THE FUTURE.

'Why didn't you just order a Time Agent to go back and attempt to prevent the accident?'

'I can answer that,' said Angel, 'no Agent would have obeyed such an order. Changing the past will change the future, which is our present and all Agents are conditioned to be unable to do that.'

'Merlin, if all Agents are so conditioned, how can Angel have stood by and allowed me to do what I have done already. Let alone consider helping me to prevent the accident?'

ANGEL WAS NOT CONDITIONED. Merlin had foreseen this situation long ago, and arranged for Angel to become an Agent especially for this task. The conditioning was under the control of the World Brain. It had been a simple matter, for it to remove the subliminal directives hidden in the standard training media.

That, combined with her strong willpower was sufficient to make her sympathetic to Steve's aims, and enabled her to actively help him. Steve was relieved to hear this, as he had never been comfortable with the concept of mind control in any form. Also he now knew that if she felt the same for him as he did for her, it wasn't due to programming by some machine.

'What I plan to do, is to go back to the laboratory and tell Professor Pearce about the accident. He will then be more careful about the experiment and there will be no explosion.' Steve stated, 'I know it is simplistic but I believe simple is best.'

Angel seemed about to protest, but he suddenly grabbed her and kissed her passionately. 'Trust me darling I know what I'm doing, lets go to bed and not sleep on it.' Angel giggled and followed him into his bedroom, where she had first met him.

Steve had asked Merlin to download all the information available on the accident into his implant, and after making love to Angel he was laying quietly studying the data. He truly believed that simplicity was the key to success, he was pretty sure why the accident had happened.

It was like a man walking along a road with his eyes and mind fixed on the stars, only to fall down a manhole that he hadn't seen. The Professor was such a man, he lived and breathed multi-dimensional physics, and sometimes found it difficult to operate in the mundane world of lesser mortals.

He left most of the routine supply and administration to his personal assistant, a Miss White. She was the one who ensured he had a clean lab coat every morning, and kept him supplied with coffee and snacks when he forgot to eat.

On the day of the accident she was ill, and he decided to get the next compound on the list himself. He was sure the next test would prove his theory, and give mankind the stars. He had gone to the large storeroom down the hall and picked up the next container in the series. His mind barely noticed that the storeroom light had blown, and it was difficult to read the label.

However he was already mentally computing the power vectors required to project the Portal out to Betelgeuse, and tucking the container under his arm he wandered back to the laboratory.

The assistants were excited as they gathered round the reaction chamber, the computations showed that this test should give them the necessary power to project the Portal to Betelgeuse.

They watched the gauges intently as the professor injected the compound into the chamber. They didn't have time to realise they were dead, such was the force of the explosion that incinerated the laboratory and all in it.

Steve materialised in the storeroom and reached into his pocket for his secret weapon, in his war against the World Brains alter ego. He pulled out a light bulb and replaced the faulty one in the storeroom. To make doubly sure he turned all the containers on the shelves, so their labels could be easily read.

He then walked out of the storeroom and crept down the hall towards the laboratory, and peeked around the corner. As he had suspected Agent Red was sitting in a chair outside the Laboratory waiting for him to approach the Professor, it was an eerie feeling to see a man that he knew was dead sitting there fit and well.

Steve grinned to himself and walked back to the storeroom. He had counted on the fact that whatever he told Merlin, the other part of the World Brain would hear as well. He had never intended to approach the Professor, but hoped that the enemy would underestimate a 'primitive' man and fall for his red herring. He hid in a doorway giving him a clear view of things, and settled down to wait.

The professor came out of the Laboratory to get the next compound for his final test; he was surprised to find a guard waiting in the hallway. He was even more surprised, when the guard escorted him up the hallway to the storeroom.

The man explained that they had received a tip off that a terrorist may try and interfere with the test. His job was to ensure that nobody got near the Professor without proper clearance.

The scientist couldn't have cared less, and had already forgotten the guard's presence as he entered the storeroom. He saw the compound required and taking it from the shelf tucked it under his arm, and wandered back to the laboratory.

Agent Red watched from the hallway until he saw the Professor begin the injection procedure, before jumping out to avoid the forthcoming blast. Red had decided to go back to the Twentieth century, and kill the interfering idiot there.

He was furious, the World Brain had told him that this Steve person would attempt to contact the professor to warn him about the accident. It had obviously got it wrong, as Steve hadn't been near the place whilst he had been on guard.

He was still fuming as he materialised, he had time to notice that he was standing on a white line, before a crushing impact to his back hurled him yards down the road. When he regained consciousness he realised that he had been hit by a car, he barely had enough strength to take out his QT but his fingers wouldn't work properly.

A man bent over him and asked him if he was all right. Red asked the man to dial the coordinates for a jump to the B.T.O., and saw him punch in the coordinates before he passed out.

Back at the laboratory Professor Pearce injected the compound, and watched in satisfaction as the power gauges registered the increase required to send the Portal to Betelgeuse. He turned to his colleagues, and announced that the test was a success.

Steve heard the cheering from the hall, and with a smile of satisfaction jumped back to his house. 'How did it go?' Angel asked. 'Only one way to find out, care to join me in a trip to the future?' He asked.

They arrived in the year 3000, and Steve greeted Merlin again, he asked for the main news stories. They both saw the data scroll across their field of vision. EXODUS CONTINUES MARS RESTRICTS IMMIGRATION BIRTH RATE STILL DECREASING SEA LEVELS STILL RISING At first glance nothing seemed to have changed at all, and Steve felt a crushing sense of disappointment. Then he remembered that it was Mars that was restricting immigration, and not Barsoom.

He called up the details of the first headline, and read that the exodus to the nearest planets was still continuing as the sea levels rose. The planets of Betelgeuse were habitable as were the planets of Alpha Proxima.

Such was the demand to settle on the terraformed Mars, that the Martian Government had to restrict settlers until more room could be made. As he had suspected the last two headlines hadn't changed as no amount of time travel would affect the sea levels or the birth rate, but two out of four seemed a fair result to him.