The Forgotten Past

Part 2

by Pan-Gon (pan_gon221 at hotmail.com)
3/9/02

Um... where were we? Ah, yes! So, Sher turns out to be the Holmes we know and love, huh? What happens next? Will I just let him live that not-so-comfortable life of his in the 22nd Century without knowing his Jedi heritage? You bet your magnifying glass I wonít! It seems I will torture the good detective further. Read on if you wanna see how. This might be a bit boring and/or confusing, but hey, it helps the plot along!

As Sherlock Holmes rested his head on his pillow to sleep, he silently hoped that the visions of the boy and that woman wouldnít appear in his head again. He had been having them since he had visited his childhood home in Sussex.

He wasnít just a machine without any feelings at all; he still had a bit of curiosity -- unlike when he was young, when he thought he knew everything despite his amnesia. It was amazing that the old farm was there, he mused. It had changed a lot though, just like every other blasted thing in this century, and was deserted, so he had no trouble getting there.

He got up, still not able to sleep. Good. There wasnít a vision... yet. He focused on the rusty tubular thing on his nightstand, trying to keep his mind busy with other things, as it always was. He found the object when he went 'home'. He picked it up, studying it closer.

It was a little bit longer than his hand, and had a red button on it which he had pushed, but to no avail. When he had Watson scan it to see how old it was, the compudroid said that it was around nine and a quarter years younger than he was. Being around two hundred thirty-eight years old, one could only wonder why the non-rusted metallic parts still retained some of their luster.

He felt a strange familiarity with it, as if he had handled the object before to defend himself -- as if it were a weapon of some sort. No, that was impossible. Heíd never seen anything like that before in this century, let alone his childhood. Nothing of the sort had ever been made at that time. Well, there were revolvers and things like that. If one couldnít afford something of that sort, then knives, or maybe even swords, could be a good substitute.

Why was he thinking about swords? The object certainly looked a lot like a sword hilt. Putting it down, he decided heíd have to study it later in the morning. For now, he was going to have some rest. After finally giving into sleep, his rest was interrupted.

Oh no. He really couldnít get the visions out of his mind, now. could he? He reluctantly watched as his mindís eye played yet another one of the visions, this time as a dream.

The boy, whose name was Sher, looked to be a little younger than ten years of age. He had the same short, reddish-brown hair as the dreaming detective, and basically the same body type: thin and tall.

The boy also was almost as serious as he usually was, which, in this time period, was rare for someone his age. The clothes he wore would remind a well-learned person of the garments the samurai would wear. There were little variations, though. Sher wore the same type of off-white tunic and pants, but he also wore a belt, which carried all sorts of gadgets not even found in the 22nd Century. Well, not any that Holmes was familiar with anyway. One of them included something that looked like the object the detective was looking at earlier that night.

He watched with his mindís eye as Sher was blindfolded by an older boy who wore the same garments as he did. Then he took the object from his belt and held it with both hands. He stood near a chair, too nervous to sit. He was getting ready for a match of sorts, and it was of great importance.

Outside was something that looked like an arena, with lots of others watching, all wearing the basically the same kind of clothing, like a uniform -- but with slight differences. Some had a different color to theirs; adult ones had dark brown cloaks, and so forth. Among those watching what would go on in the ring was the Asian woman who was included in the visions, but appeared less often than the boy had.

It seemed that this contest was all about the woman choosing an apprentice of sorts. Holmes already knew who that would be. Though he never knew the womanís name; Sher had always referred to her, as 'Master', and she would almost always call him 'Padawan'....

Sher had entered the arena where another blindfolded boy was standing. The other boy, presumably his opponent, was much bigger than he was, and did not seem to be human at all. Although the ground they were standing on was uneven, they both seemed to know how to get to the center of it without tripping.

They both bowed to each other and took identical metallic tubes from their belts. They pressed the buttons and a red beam of light, more than half a meter long, came out of the tubes.

The match was about to begin.

It was like a swordfight, but the blades were replaced with red lasers which seemed to make a monotonous hum whenever they moved. Sher spent most of his time blocking his opponentís moves and wearing him out.

At the end of the fight, Sher turned out to be the victor. The boy took off the blindfold and looked up at the woman, and saw that she had no emotion in her face. He thought he wasnít going to be chosen. There was always next time, right? He bowed to his opponent, and they both made their way out of the ring.

He made his way to his quarters and took off his tunic, which was soaked in his sweat. Well, at least he always had next time. He had three more years to go before he would be considered 'not fit to be trained', and he would probably have another person as a Master before then.

No.

The boy wanted Master Katalialina to train him. He felt it would be so. Yet the thing he and his kind had called the Force told him she was choosing an apprentice today. But who could it be? Exiting his quarters, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning to see whom it was, he had expected it to be one of his very few friends coming to ask if their fighting style would impress this Jedi master... Instead, the person turned out to be Master Katalialina, and she was smiling.

"Sher Semloh, I saw the way you fought today, and I have to say I am impressed." She took her hand off his shoulder and studied him more closely. Smiling again, she said, "You fought like a Jedi should, and even though I was made a Master only a few months ago, I know Iím not making the wrong choice."

The boy looked at her and tried to keep his heart from going into his throat. Did this mean that she was going to choose him, or did she just like the way he handled himself out there? Still, no one ever said that his fighting style was good, they just went on with their business.

"Thank you, Master Katalialina." He made a rather quick (but graceful) bow and turned to the turbolift, his pre-chosen destination.

So that was the womanís name! Katalialina... What an... uncommon name....

"Sher," she called out, "my friends call me Katílina, but you can call me ĎMasterí from now on; that is, if you want."

The boy just stopped dead in his tracks, and spun around, eyes wide with shock and jaw trying not to drop.

"Do you mean...."

The master just smirked. "Yes. Sher Semloh, will you be my apprentice?"

Holmes woke earlier than he thought. It was only six in the morning. The usual time he arose was around ten. He rubbed his eyes and looked back at the metallic tube-like object on his bedside table.

Maybe he should take it apart again today. After all, he had to know why this thing looked so... familiar.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to relax. Last time, all he had to do was concentrate on it opening and it did. Well, it couldnít hurt to try, would it? He placed his hand a few centimeters above it and tried focusing on it again. It worked.

"Now, letís see what makes this thing work." He looked around his extremely cluttered bedroom and compared it to the sitting room, which Watson cleaned regularly.

"Right now the sitting room seems more desirable."

 

Ah. He finally worked it out. The object (cleanly split into two parts) wasnít working because its source of power was gone. The power source would fit into a small compartment, and pressing the red button on the outer part of the object would cause the power source to give off an electrical charge. Fascinating. What kind of civilization had this kind of technology in the nineteenth century?

He concentrated on the object coming back together, with no sign that it ever split in the first place. That also worked. He smiled and held it in both hands. It really felt familiar...similar to the laser sword that boy was using in the battle.

Waving it around, he couldnít help the feeling that he could get into trouble. The worst that could happen was Watson seeing that and amusingly asking him what he was doing playing with a rusty old thing. No, nothing would happen....

Ah, Sher. Even as an adult, you couldnít help playing with it.

Holmes looked to where the voice came from, and saw what appeared to be a ghost. Not just any ghost, but the spirit of the boyís teacher. No, that was completely illogical of him. There were no such things as ghosts.

Katílina just smirked and cocked her head. Without talking, she replied, There are many questions but fewer answers. Logic canít solve everything, you know.

With that, she disappeared into thin air.

Well, what do you think? Confusing, huh? I KNOW! HA HAHAHAHA! HAHAHA! Itíll be less mind-boggling later (and Holmes will be in character this time). I promise.

HEHEHEHEHE....

TO BE CONTINUED

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