by Eric Brown
Holmes struggled coughing from under the dead weight and I, half delirious with relief, looked down upon the result of my handiwork.
“Sharp shooting, Watson. I owe you my life.”
“Think nothing of it, Holmes. All in the line of duty, what?”
Holmes fell to examining the simulacra, declaring from time to time that he found the mechanical men fascinating.
“That’s all very well, Holmes, but how the deuce are we going to go about getting rid of the pair.”
Holmes looked up at me. “Get rid of them? Why, they will occupy my working hours for weeks, if not months. We will keep them in the storeroom, along with my stock of chemicals and other paraphernalia, and I will experiment upon them at my leisure. There is much to be learned, Watson, which will no doubt assist us in our fight against the Martian foe.”
He stood, moved to the window and stared out. High above Regent’s Park, dominating the sky-line, stood a Martian tripod – a symbol of all that was evil and malodorous about our overlords.
“We face a stern challenge in the years ahead, my friend. A terrible tide of evil has swept the shores of our world, an evil which knows no bounds and thinks itself unassailable – but, with courage, fortitude and ingenuity, I believe in time that we can overcome that tide, repel the invaders, and once again reclaim what is rightfully ours.”
Coda
Later that afternoon, with the bodies of the simulacra safely stowed away and Mrs Hudson apprised of the situation and sworn to silence, we were taking a well-earned pot of tea when the telephone bell rang.
Holmes crossed the room and snatched up the receiver. “Yes?”
A tinny voice sounded, the words indistinct.
“That is correct,” said Holmes, and then, “My word... Yes, yes, of course.”
More words issued from the caller.
“We would be more than delighted. Yes, by all means. In thirty minutes, then.” He replaced the receiver and stood a while in silent reflection.
“Who was that, Holmes?”
He turned and gave me a rare smile. “The agent of the rebel Martians,” he said. “I was expecting a summons, of course, but not quite so soon. We have been called to the Lyons’ tea-rooms, Piccadilly, at four o’clock.”
At three-thirty we took an electrical cab to the heart of London; Holmes was uncommonly silent for the duration of the journey, no doubt contemplating the many trials and tribulations that awaited us. I, for my part, was equally sombre: we might have vanquished two defenceless simulacra in our rooms, but that was a small fight compared to that which lay ahead.
We alighted outside the tea-rooms, and before we crossed the pavement Holmes restrained me with a hand upon my arm. I looked up, at the louring cowl of the Martian tripod that defaced the Piccadilly sky-line – but it was not this that had caused my friend to pause.
He said, “What happened on Mars hit you hard, my friend.”
I smiled bleakly. “Quite knocked the stuffing out of me, old man. I know we must fight on, and I will do, Holmes – as much in her memory as for ourselves, but it will be a melancholy...”
He stopped me. He was smiling. He said, “Don’t be so downhearted, Watson. All is not as it appears.”
“What?”
“Prepare yourself for a shock, or rather a surprise...”
“What the blazes do you mean, Holmes?”
“I mean,” said he, “that it is not only the equatorial Martians who possess the means to manufacture the simulacra.”
I blinked. “I don’t quite follow...”
“The rebel Martians, our comrades in this battle, not only have the means to create simulacra, but have done so.”
“Very well. That’s good to know, but…?”
“Watson, you can be so slow at times!” Holmes laughed. “The rebels recruited humans to their cause. Not only that, but when an agent proved exceptional in the field, they created valuable simulacra so that these individuals might take the fight to Mars, compromising the flight crew of the Martian ships to keep tabs on which humans were being lured to the Red Planet while their originals remained to rouse the troops, as it were, on Earth.”
“Good God, man!” I felt a little dizzy. His grip steadied me. “You mean to say…?”
He steered me across the pavement and into the tea-rooms. “That phone call was from her,” he said – and he pointed across the room to where an uncommonly beautiful woman sat, recognisable to me despite her raven-haired disguise. “Miss Freya Hadfield-Bell,” he went on, “the original.”
In a daze, hardly able to believe my eyes, I crossed the room.
Hadfield-Bell rose, smiling at my speechlessness, and reached out to take my hand.
“Why...” I said, and, “Upon my word...” I gripped her hand and kissed her knuckles, tears spring to my eyes.
“I have heard reports of your bravery on Mars, Dr Watson, Mr Holmes,” she said as we took our seats.
“Forgive me,” I said. “This is something of a shock, a most wonderful shock, I might add. I thought you dead – indeed I saw you die with my own eyes!”
“My hapless simulacrum, Dr Watson,” she murmured. “I live to fight another day, though from now on – given that our foe is aware of my direct involvement – with somewhat greater circumspection, and in disguise. And I am gratified that you two stalwarts will be joining me in the fight.”
The thought of the battle ahead now swelled my heart, and it was all I could do to restrain myself from taking the woman in my arms.
“And now, my friends,” she said, “I would like to hear, if you please, all about your – our – derring-do on Mars, sparing me no detail.”
And so, beginning on the morning of our summons to investigate a spurious murder on Mars, I regaled Miss Hadfield-Bell with a full record of our many and various adventures on the Red Planet, which turbulent account I have now brought to a close.
About the Author
Eric Brown has won the British Science Fiction Award twice for his short stories, and his novel Helix Wars was shortlisted for the 2012 Philip K. Dick award. He has published sixty books, the latest of which include the crime novel Murder Take Three, the short story collection Microcosms, co-authored with Tony Ballantyne, and the novel Binary System. He has also written a dozen books for children and over a hundred and forty short stories. He writes a regular science fiction review column for the Guardian newspaper and lives in Cockburnspath, Scotland. His website can be found at:
www.ericbrown.co.uk
Also by Eric Brown
Strange Visitors
Eric Brown has been writing first rate science fiction for more than a quarter of a century, with over a hundred and twenty short stories, twenty-odd novels, several collections and no few novellas to his credit. Strange Visitors contains nine of those stories, none of them previously collected, plus a brand new piece written especially for this collection. Sit back, put your feet up, and immerse yourself in the rich worlds of Eric’s imagination…
Starship Fall
David Conway leads an idyllic life on the colony world of Chalcedony, but all that changes when the mysterious holo star Carlotta Chakravorti-Luna enters his life and his alien friend Kee heads inland to take part in a potentially fatal Ashentay ritual. What follows is a convoluted and poignant tragedy which entangles Conway and his friends. In Starship Fall, Eric Brown has crafted a powerful, moving novella about friendship, love, and destiny.
NewCon Press
Novellas
Set 3: Cover art by Jim Burns
The Martian Job – Jaine Fenn
The Martian Simulacra: A Sherlock Holmes Mystery –
Eric Brown
Phosphorous: A Winterstrike Story – Liz Williams
The Greatest Story Ever Told – Una McCormack
Set 2: Cover art by Vincent Sammy
Case of the Bedeviled Poet: A Sherlock Holmes Enigma
– Simon Clark
Cottingley – Alison Littlewood
Body in the Woods – Sarah
Lotz
The Wind – Jay Caselberg
Set 1: Cover art by Chris Moore
1. The Iron Tactician – Alastair Reynolds
2. At the Speed of Light – Simon Morden
3. The Enclave – Anne Charnock
4. The Memoirist – Neil Williamson
All novellas are available separately in paperback edition and as a numbered limited edition hardback, signed by the author.
Each set of four novellas is also available as a limited edition lettered slipcase set, containing all four signed hardbacks with the combined artwork as a wrap-around.
Slipcase Set 1: [Sold Out]
Slipcase Set 2: [Sold Out]
Slipcase Set 3: £85.00
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