Sherlock Holmes quietly followed Martin Fenwick to the hovercar. As the disfigured geneticist took off, Holmes jumped on to the back. A few minutess later, the hovercar stopped at an apparently deserted warehouse. Holmes crouched lower as James Moriarty walked out, carrying a box, and climbed into the vehicle.

The hovercar again took off, this time heading for the airport. Holmes waited until Moriarty and Fenwick were well out of sight, before he followed their direction. Covertly, he studied the boarding list at one of the stations. Two names caught his eye. Professor James Mortan and Dr. Martin Fenton. Nodding to the attendant he bought a ticket, and then boarded that transport. He moved into a compartment at the back, where he could see everything that went on.

Two hours later, they were out over the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, when a voice came over the loudspeaker. "Terribly sorry you had to go, Mr. Holmes. I am certain you would have enjoyed where I was going immensely. Bon voyage." Before Holmes could react, his seat was ejected from the transport and he felt himself falling through the air. Seconds later, he hit the water, and went under. Holding his breath, he undid the safety harness, and swam to the surface. As he broke the surface, he looked up to see that the transport was nothing more than a speck in the sky. Resolutely he began to swim in the direction the transport had taken. Several hours later, the sky darkened, and Holmes was tiring. He stopped and treaded water for a little while, then started swimming again. It was pitch black when he lost consciousness.

---

"Geez, according to these scans, this guy's been out there for twelve hours. How in the world did he survive?" Holmes opened his eyes to see a woman looking down at him. She had short blond hair and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. She couldn't be older than twenty-five at the most.

"Hey, Mister," she said, "How many fingers am I holding up?" She held up three fingers.

"Three," Holmes answered promptly.

"Well, at least his brain is functioning," the woman said.

Holmes sat up to look at everything else, but lay back down, groaning as a wave of dizziness engulfed him. He waited until it passed and sat up more slowly. There were two other people, besides the girl who had spoken. He smiled and nodded to them. "Perhaps you could tell me where I am?" he asked.

The bald, black man looked concerned. He reminded Holmes of Wiggins, which brought a smile to his face.

"No, I do not have amnesia; my good sir, I merely do not know my precise location. The last thing I remember is swimming in the Atlantic."

"Hmph," the third person in the room growled. He was an older man with a weatherbeaten face. "What were you doing out there, anyway? Must be crazy," the man said in a gruff voice.

The woman nodded in agreement, while the black man sighed. "You're aboard an aircraft carrier. That's all I can say."

"Ah...I see. American, no doubt, judging from your accents. You work with the Big Guy?"

Instantly, the three stiffened. "Mister, I don't know who you are, but that is classified information," the woman said, her eyes flashing dangerously.

Holmes put his hands up. "I apologize for startling you. The symbol on your hat," he nodded at the old man, "is a picture of the Big Guy. I merely deduced that you must be affiliated with him, based on that and on the fact that this is an aircraft carrier."

The black man smiled. "It's all right. I guess it is pretty obvious once you think about it. My name's Garth, this is Jo," he said, pointing to the woman, "and this is Mack." Mack glared at Holmes but said nothing.

"I take it you pulled me from the water?" Holmes asked.

"Actually, the Big Guy did," said a voice from somewhere behind him. Holmes turned to look, and saw a clean-cut man wearing an American military uniform. The rank appeared to be that of lieutenant. "I'm Lieutenant Dwayne Hunter," the man said, extending his hand, "the Big Guy's chief mechanic. And you are?"

Holmes debated on whether or not to tell the truth, then decided that these people would more readily believe a lie. He took Hunter's hand and shook it. "The name's Jeremy Street. I was on vacation and had to jump from the transport. Unfortunately, my parachute broke before I hit the water, and I had to cut it off. That's when I started swimming in the direction the transport went. I am glad you found me when you did."

Hunter nodded. "Yeah, I...the Big Guy was just in the area for a test flight, when he saw you. He brought you back here."

To any other person, Hunter's slip would have gone unnoticed. But Holmes was more observant than most people, and he caught it. Filing it away for later, he asked, "I don't suppose you can tell me if the transport I was on landed at its destination, can you? All my luggage was on it."

Hunter shook his head. "Not unless you have the serial number. Which you shouldn't have, not if you are who you say you are."

Holmes shrugged. He hadn't had time to find that, before boarding. "Well, then I suppose I shall have to go to the station and ask them."

"Why'd you have to jump, Mr. Street?" Hunter asked.

"My compartment was faulty, and I didn't have time to move to another one. It would have endangered countless lives."

The American nodded, but still looked suspicious. Holmes groaned and pretended to have a dizzy spell. That effectively forestalled any more questions. As the four people filed out of the room, Holmes lay thinking. He needed to find a way off the carrier, and into Newtronic City, the destination of the transport, and most likely Moriarty.

*******************************************************

As Slate walked back to her lab, her mind reeled. The substance Professor Mortan had introduced was a large step in robotics. It was also dangerous. It could make an army of sentient robots, more powerful than any human army, or maybe even the Big Guy. Slate shuddered and stepped into her lab. She gasped at what she saw. There were wires and tools everywhere.

"Rusty!"

"Yeah, Dr. Slate?" the boy robot asked, popping up from behind an overturned table. The puppy popped up beside him, his toungue hanging out of his mouth. They both wore identical innocent expressions, and Slate found it hard to be stern. She wondered if this was how her father had felt whenever she and Beth did anything wrong. She quickly suppressed the thought and put her hands on her hips.

"Rusty, you know better than to mess with these things without permission. No web surfing for three days."

"Awww...Dr. Slate...three whole days?"

She gave him a stern glance and he sighed. "I'm sure as shootin' sorry. Me and Pup'll clean up the mess."

Images of what might happen filled her mind and she said, "That won't be necessary, Rusty. Why don't you go take Pup to meet Big Guy?"

Rusty immediately cheered up. "Okay! Power up!" He picked the puppy up and flew out his access tunnel.

Slate moved to the vidphone and called Dwayne. It was only fair to warn him, after all.

When she finished the call, she was frowning. Something about that visitor on the Dark Horse didn't set right with her. It seemed too much of a coincidence that three British men had come to the States at the same time. She cleaned the lab up, then walked to Donovan's office. If she could get Jenny to tell her why she didn't trust Professor Mortan and Dr. Fenton, then that would be a start.

*****************************************************************

Holmes waited until everything was silent, then walked out of the room he was in. He had seen maps of the inside of aircraft carriers, and almost all of them were the same. Granted, this one would have special features due to the fact that it was the Big Guy's home. It would still be a simple matter.

Making his way towards the stairs, he heard a loud noise coming from the opposite direction. Deciding to go investigate, he followed the sound. Soon he came upon a large room where three of the four people he had met were standing around a robot that looked like a little boy. 'That must be Rusty,' Holmes thought. He stared at the three humans. Mack, Garth and Jo. But where was Lieutenant Hunter? He stepped in and hid behind a low table.

"Kid," Mack said gruffly, "get that thing...yeck!" A small mixed breed puppy had just licked the old man on the cheek.

"Well, what do we have here, son?" a booming voice asked.

"Big Guy!" the boy robot exclaimed, "This is my new pal Pup." The robot picked the puppy up and carried it over to the giant robot. "Hey," Rusty said, "Where's Lieutenant Dwayne? I want him to meet Pup too, ya know."

Holmes strained to hear what the answer would be. The three humans hemmed and hawed, until Big Guy finally said, "He..uh went to Newtronic City to do some shopping. Humans have to eat, you know."

"Oh, okay. He can meet Pup later."

Holmes frowned. Hunter would not have had enough time to get to the mainland after he had questioned Holmes. The lieutenant must be Big Guy. There was enough evidence to support the fact that The Big Guy could just be an exosuit. After all, Artificial Intelligence was still in the experimental stages, when the Big Guy was brought into operation.

Holmes waited when the boy robot had left. His patience was rewarded when a hatch opened on Big Guy, and Lieutenant Hunter came out.

"Good thing Dr. Slate was kind enough to warn you the kid was coming, huh, Dwayne?" Garth asked.

Hunter nodded. Then he turned and looked directly at Holmes. "All right, come out and tell us who you really are."

Holmes stood up from behind the table and smiled. "I am Sherlock Holmes."