The most outré adventure in my eventful life began innocuously enough. I was sat in my accustomed seat in my Baker Street lodgings,bathing in the comforting glow of the fire as my friend Holmes wove a peaceful tune on his Stradivarius. It had been a tiring day as we were both called to examine a minor burglary,there was little about it to interest Holmes and he seemed quite irked at being plucked away from his chemical work to cast his expert eye over such a trivial happening. As we returned he mentioned to me that he thought the event may have been related to something of considerably greater importance in the area, but he would not elaborate. As I sat in that chair and listened to Holmes play I could barely think beyond the great sense of comfort and satisfaction that enveloped me. I expected to sit there for a few hours more and then retire,sadly this peaceful plan was not to be.
What happened at that point is a little difficult to describe,it were as though I blinked and the room about me had changed entirely. The crackling of the fire and Holmes' music ceased instantly,he was still sat across from me though without his violin,and on a completely different chair!
I stood in disbelief and looked about me, the room we now found ourselves in was entirely alien to us, though retained something of the homely atmosphere of Baker street. Holmes had also stood from the shock and glanced around our new surroundings wildly.
I had stood up from the end of a leather couch, facing a curious dull mirror upon an oak table. On the border of this mirror was branded the name 'Toshiba'. A glance behind me revealed an expanse of low bookshelves,littered with strange and colourful sculptures amongst the volumes. Another corner of the room appeared to be a food preparation area,in another there were two tidy desks and filing cabinets. Dotted around this unusual domestic scene were strange white slates with dense looking equations scrawled on them in ink. Here and there were disorganised piles of odd looking implements whose use we could only guess at.
Holmes cleared his throat and was the first of us to speak, "What has happened here Watson? Have I slipped into some dream and am now sleeping next to the fire?"
"I doubt it," I replied, "This seems real to me,though I cannot begin to imagine what has befallen us. What do you make of it?"
Holmes gathered his thoughts for a moment and then declared, "I cannot yet determine how we came to be here,but I perceive a little about where we find ourselves,which may serve as a starting point to explain the situation. This appears to be a small set of rooms,inhabited by two gentlemen,not dissimilar to our own living arrangement. One of them is most definitely a scientist if not both,the inhabitants also appear to be fairly well off financially. They occasionally entertain a small group of friends,one of whom is a woman who lives close by. Hmm,I see that one of these men is a great deal taller than the other and has a habit of sitting at this end of the couch. "
He indicated the far right of the sofa which I had found myself on. I beamed with admiration at his skill,which he seemed to acknowledge with the most subtle of bows. "I know your methods Holmes,"said I, "But I am still at a loss to see how you reached several of those points."
"It is simplicity itself,"said Holmes, "The contents of their library and these equations should proclaim as much. If that is not enough,this room is one of the most heavily electrified that I have ever seen. Only a scientist could have access to such advanced equipment,observe the contraption on this desk for instance."
He crossed to the desk in question and gestured to the curious creation which sat upon it. It was a thin box made of some form of Bakelite,attached to this was a hinged lid that stood open,bearing a black square of padding . The surface of the box was coated in a mind boggling array of letters and symbols which I recognised immediately as a typewriter keyboard. Several insulated wires emerged from this device like grotesque tentacles and vanished into other devices around the desk. Holmes looked at it intently before speaking, "This would appear to be some form of electronically assisted typewriter,at a guess the text emerges here." He tapped another Bakelite construct,from which protruded a stack of blank paper.
"There are other cables which seem to vanish into the wall,suggesting that this machine is also capable of telegraphy. Imagine it Watson! Being able to send messages instantly from your home to anywhere in the world simply by typing. So much more convenient than a wire no? It is the fact that they own such complex electric machines which leads me to remark that they are financially well off. "
"I see that,but what about the other points that you made? that they have a small group of friends and that one of them is a woman?"said I.
"From observing the rug placed around this sofa of course,"said Holmes, "If you observe the subtle impressions there are four of five different shoes present. One of these has an indent a little behind the main impression suggesting a woman's high heeled shoe. Another distinct footmark is fairly large and frequent suggesting one of our two illusive residents,his stride indicates that he is a tall man. In addition to this the majority of his marks lead to this position on the couch,showing his fondness for it."
"Marvellous Holmes,"I said,these demonstrations losing none of their intrigue each time I was exposed to them, "So what does that mean for us?"
"I think,Watson, the best thing to do is await these two scientists and determine what they intend to do with us, if they are even aware that we are here. For you see-"
Holmes was interrupted by the unmistakeable sound of a bolt sliding back. We both turned silently towards the room's front door,upon which hung an old dartboard. We held our breath as the door swung open...