A Study In Solar
Epilogue
By Trynia Merin
Note t hat this story has a few more chapters so I could divide up the story into more manageable chunks! This story has also been edited for grammar and typos!
On the space liner that hurtled back to Earth, Lestrade sat with a picture album in her hand. Unlike the albums with paper pages into which people tucked pictures with sticky tape, it was a flat screen with sounds that could be recorded with each image, called up by the down or up arrow. The date for each image was inscribe on the top of each picture. Lestrade sighed as she held her finger over the 'delete' button.
"Inspector, I am most concerned about your emotional state," said Watson kindly as he sat down next to her on the liner, which was only half filled with returning passengers from Lowell City.
"Huh, oh hi Watson," she said, as he lay his hand on her shoulder.
"You seemed very flat whilst you delivered the report to Chief Inspector Florseau on the Colony," he said. Glancing up from a magazine, the man with the question mark pullover glanced at them, and shook his head in sadness. Opposite him sat Sherlock Holmes, who had steepled his fingers and was listening to a recording of Faust.
The man shoved Holmes with the end of his umbrella, saying, "Pardon me, but do you know what time it is?"
Holmes opened his eyes and glanced at the stranger, as he removed his headphones, "Pardon me sir, but I do wish to maintain my solitude..."
"You should be over there, with your colleagues," the man said, setting down his magazine, and sipping the milkshake at his tray table.
"You are called Doctor, are you not?" Sherlock Holmes raised an eyebrow. "I saw you on the station. You even had a few words did you not, during the investigation? I am surprised to see you here on Mars."
"Are you just humoring me, Mr. Holmes?" The Doctor asked. "You did very well. I was half hoping I didn't have to step in. But seems that things worked out after all..."
"I was thinking that you'd mention the case... and I have the distinct feeling we have met before, in a previous lifetime..."
"Elementary, my Dear Holmes," said the Doctor in a Scottish/English accent. "Mel mentioned you to me, whilst I popped down for a visit. Seems you made quite an impression on the Scottish Anachronistic Society..."
"Melanie was indeed your acquaintance then," Holmes said slowly. "And no doubt you remained behind then to insure her safety and assist with the restoration of the power on the Resort..."
"And how did you deduce that?" the Doctor said with an amused smirk.
Holmes chuffed with equal amusement, steepling his fingers. He began his chain of reasoning, "Simple. Your penchant, if you are who I think you are, is for assisting those in need, not in engaging in idle goose chases. Also, since you knew I was on the station, and considering that I had checked the logs of all guests registered, and knowing that Dr. John Smith was a common enough name... I deduced you were traveling under a pseudonym."
"You're only warming up, I see," the Doctor smiled, resting his hands on the handle of his umbrella.
Holmes continued, "Also I had seen recognition in the eyes of Miss Melanie Bush, and I did see you at the Robert Burns dinner, keeping a discreet distance as if you were observing the situation. And I have seen that behavior before... in the previous lifetime. Also, the presence of a large oblong box resembling a Police Box, which is doubtless in the cargo hold of the ship, and not part of the decor, I came to the conclusion that you and I have met before. In 19th century England, no doubt. You cannot escape my reasoning, Doctor..." Holmes said with a slight smile. "Therefore the theories that a rather misunderstood gentleman, H.G. Wells are correct since you are here in the 22nd century."
"Astounding. But you haven't addressed my question," said the Doctor.
"Doubtless, you seem anxious to inquire why I am not with my companions," said Holmes.
"That's the first obvious question," the Doctor nodded.
Holmes cleared his throat, and ticked off on his fingers, "I could ask you why you did not assist me in the disaster at Lowell city, having heard legends of your involvement in other affairs and I could only deduce that you were otherwise occupied... and since your skills tend to range in many advanced sciences, they must have been of great benefit in restoring solar power to most of the places affected by the Solarex Crisis."
"A good piece of reasoning, but yet you still continue to avoid my question," the Doctor shook his head.
"If you must know, perhaps you can deduce it," Holmes said with a smirk. "Since you are a man of science."
"First, I sense that you and the Inspector are avoiding each other. That would suggest that a certain emotional situation of some discomfort has happened between you, and you are avoiding her, so as not to cause her further trauma," said the Doctor.
"Oh really?" Holmes snickered.
The Doctor leaned forwards, eyes twinkling with the same merriment of their game of wits. He coughed, and resumed his diatribe, "Considering her reaction to your assistant Watson, she is seeking solace in the company of a 'neutral' yet partly involved third party. While you could be comforting her or summing up the case, you isolate yourself in your usual manner. Therefore I can only deduce that you have crossed an invisible line, and are rather taken with the Inspector. Not wishing to create a 'scene' you refrain from any contact till you return to Earth. And since this IS a long flight..."
"Enough," Holmes said slowly. His features darkened, face wrinkling into a scowl. "My reasons are my own."
"I admire your upholding of your Victorian Ideals. Perhaps in this case, caution IS warranted," said the Doctor. "But you cannot avoid one another forever."
"No, perhaps not," Holmes said slowly.
"Don't look so gloomy," said the Doctor.
Holmes snorted, and then admitted sheepishly, "But I do recall the Inspector saying she did not wish to cause me harm. And I do not wish to cause her emotional distress by a greater degree of emotional closeness than that shared between two co-workers, or two close friends. She has suffered a traumatic emotional experience, and I do not wish to add to it."
"She admires you. Perhaps if you simply break out of your imposed exile and recall you ARE a member of the human race, it may HELP the situation."
"You who travel from place to place are one to talk," Holmes said darkly.
"But as an observer, I know when opportunities like this are missed, and regrets are eternal," said the Doctor.
"Be that as it may," Holmes said.
The Doctor continued, "And just because you ARE from a different time gives you NO excuse to isolate yourself from your friends because you feel discomfort facing issues that may challenge your tidy notion of human relationships."
"Perhaps, but it hampers my effectiveness," Holmes countered weakly.
"Get down off your intellectual high horse, and get yourself over there. You can at LEAST give her your friendship. How do you KNOW that she wants anything more than that? My guess is, and I see you shuddering at it, Holmes," the Doctor shook his head in disgust.
"Can you blame me? You're a scientist. Can you let emotion cloud your judgment?"
"What do you fear most? That she wants more. But in fact, by exercising your restraint you could be the BEST thing for her? Your partnership is essential to stopping that which was set in motion by Fenwick's genetic tinkering. And since SHE brought you back, you owe her a greater debt than you could repay," the Doctor shook his head.
"You have made your point. Doubtless you know far more than I gave you credit for. But I shall resolve my own problems in my own time."
"How you do so is up to you," the Doctor waved him away dismissively.
"How convenient an answer for one giving advice," Holmes taunted him.
The Doctor chuckled knowingly, "But I'll give you a hint. Jeopardize your relationship with both now, and you may come to regret it later. But you walk a fine line between remaining aloof and uncaring, but helping without pushing too fast into a relationship to which she may need time and you too, to consider."
"Very well," said Holmes as he rose and hesitated before crossing the isle. Lestrade was wistfully showing Watson the contents of her Academy photo album, fighting back tears. Watson had taken her hand and was patting it gently as he handed her a tissue.
"Damn Watson, it just doesn't go away... does every part of my past come back and bite me?" Lestrade asked.
"Suffice to say, you cannot be responsible for those who have misconceptions about where they stand with you," said Watson.
"But he could figure OUT a way to get what he wants," said Lestrade. "And when I thought you had been destroyed because of me... and a loose end."
"Lestrade, may I join you and Watson?" Holmes asked as he sat across from them.
"I thought you were reposing," Watson said with surprise.
"I simply thought it was rather... unnecessary of me when it seemed that there were some loose ends that you may wish to discuss, Lestrade?" Holmes asked as he rested both hands on his cane.
Lestrade flushed bright red. "Um," she got out.
"I know it was difficult, facing Lernov," said Holmes as he reached across and lay his hand on hers, over Watson's. "And it will require a good amount of time to heal past hurts. But be assured Watson and I will be on hand to assist in whatever way we can. And we still have the business of the last conspirator to chase down..."
Lestrade glanced at him, her face full of questions. Holmes held up his hand to silence them, gently as he continued, "Let me simply face those topics we brought up previously as something to wait, till we are both ready to face them... shall we? If that is your choice, I only wish the situation to be the most comfortable and to the timing of your liking... after all, these things must be approached with the utmost caution."
"I guess that would be the best way," she sighed. "But I don't think we can avoid it for long."
Watson knew better than to interrupt them, seeing the awkwardness in both their faces. Holmes drew in a deep breath as he said, "WE must devote all our energies to the case. If you wish, Watson and I can take over the spearheading of the investigation, so you can deal with whatever unresolved issues that are troubling you... regarding your personal involvement..."
"That's sweet of you, but I am still on the case. I doubt that whoever is LEFT is as closely involved," said Lestrade firmly. "And I don't want to sit back and nurse my 'wounds' when I have a job to do. I don't HAVE that luxury, Holmes. There is a crime in progress, and I'm bound to see it through."
"Then we face it together, my dear Lestrade, and my Dear Watson," Holmes nodded as he pressed both their hands.
"Most undoubtedly," Watson nodded.
"Yes," Lestrade nodded.
Holmes handed her his handkerchief, and she dried away her angry tears. She saw Holmes' unspoken answer to the question they both faced, and could tell things would have to wait. But in a way she was glad. After the discomfort that had risen to the surface regarding an abusive past relationship, it would be difficult to trust anyone who wanted to engage in a relationship of the same physical and emotional intimacy. Victorian Chivalry would perhaps have an odd, but appropriate role to play. Yet he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, and neither was she. After all, he had taken a step out of his usual behavior by even coming as close as he did.
She slowly slipped off the prop ring, and handed it back to Holmes who slipped it into his pocket. There was a bit of a flush on the tips of his ears as he started to change the subject, and map out where they would find their next perpetrator of the Nusolar/Solarex case.
The Doctor nodded slowly at the scene; not sure if it was the best, but he knew that sometimes there was a time to push history along, and a time to butt out. It was difficult being a Time Lord, but in the end rewarding. However he did sense that they had not seen the last of Lernov, and that perhaps he may be providing Holmes with more assistance sooner then the reanimated Detective may think.
Meanwhile Lernov gritted his teeth as the police ship bore him toward the Lunar Penal Colony. Pending trial, he would either be crypnotized or imprisoned for life. His chances since he faced court marshal didn't seem that good. After all he had done for his Malishka, was his thanks?
There was no justice, he thought to himself as he rested his head in his hands in the bare cell. Other prisoners kept to themselves, but there came a knock on the door. It slid open, and the guard said, "Lernov, the lawyer you requested is here. Keep it short…"
Lernov raised his head from his hands and saw the man enter, his long legs carrying him into the room. His hair was long and black, curling over his shoulders, and the hat he wore was anachronistic, broad brimmed, along with the sunglasses concealing his eyes. However, he wondered as the man shoed away the other prisoners, and folded his long coat under his bottom as he sat next to Lernov.
"I did not recall asking for a lawyer to visit me on the ship… nepradva li?" Lernov said as he glanced at the man. "Who are you?"
"Mr. Mortimer," he said clearly. "Esquire. The looks of this case, you're going to need the best help."
"I do not speak to a man I cannot see in the face," Lernov sniffed as he drew up stiffly. "It is a matter of pride."
"You are an intelligent man," said the lawyer as he took off his hat, and lifted his glasses. "And I think that I can cut you a deal that will make BOTH of us benefit. I have connections, which can commute your sentence…"
"Is that so?" Lernov asked.
"Indeed. You seek to get even with the man who put you here, right?" said the newcomer.
"What does a lawyer know of evening the score?" asked Lernov.
"Those fools do not know my true identity," he leaned close. "If you trust me, I can get you your freedom, and as much power and money as you could want."
"What must I do?" Lernov asked. "What is in it for me?"
"A full pardon, and a chance to get back at Sherlock Holmes, and get your woman back?" the man raised his eyebrow.
"You are not who you say you are, nepradva li?" Sergey twisted his lip in a grin.
"Let me give you a name. Does Professor Moriarty ring a bell?"
"Someone whose genius I admire?" Sergey laughed.
"You see him before you now," whispered Professor Moriarty.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, sir," Sergey nodded, reaching up to clasp his hand. His eyes gleamed with respect and deference.
"What about it? Work for me?" an amused Moriarty whispered, leaning close.
"You have yourself a deal, if you can get me out… and get my Malishka back," Sergey said as he shook Moriarty's hand.
"Just bide your time… and wait for my signal," the Professor smiled.
"And then what?" Sergey asked.
Moriarty glanced at the pocket watch he pulled out of his coat pocket. He flicked open the silver top half ornately carved with a woodland scene. "There is going to be an accident in oh… one hour… and I have a life pod on deck 7 that is coded for your escape."
"And how do I get out of here, with my wits alone?" Sergey chuckled gloomily. "What a high opinion you have of me, unless you have an alternative."
Clicking shut his pocket watch, Moriarty replaced it. He patted his pockets, and then removed a small calculator sized device with a keypad, that resembled a jammer. In his other hand he retrieved a slim metallic pistol. He said, "Naturally. This device will enable you to scramble the door… and here is your sonic blaster."
"Spaceeba," he whispered as Moriarty passed him the sonic blaster. Sergey slipped it under his pillow alongside the jammer.
Replacing his hat and sunglasses, he pressed Sergey's hand. With a smile on his face, Sergey lay out on his bunk and waited. This would be MOST interesting. Working for the Napoleon of Crime… this day had suddenly improved considerably.
The End… for now!
