Chapter 46

46. "I was silent for a long, long time"

Continued.

When we first met, I thought Albert was very frank, the kind of good person who was the same inside and out. But this time aboard the ship, he didn't seem to be hiding his mischievous streak at all.

Now, a single remark from him had left me both flustered and embarrassed.

I felt my thoughts rushing in like a violent storm, my brain already running in complete overdrive. Every second seemed to contain a lifetime of thought.

At that moment, I could almost feel my soul floating above the bedroom, like an invisible spectator watching this farce unfold.

Then I noticed that the door was open. I'd left it open when I came in, which showed that the professor and I had nothing more than a simple teacher-student relationship. They knew that perfectly well, but someone had stirred things up, and that was how we'd ended up here.

Realizing they were mostly teasing me, I recovered my composure. I ignored Albert and quickly looked over at Watson and the others. "Why are you all standing at the door?"

They'd clearly told me to go in alone, but now a whole group had followed me. Something was off, however I looked at it.

Watson's attention shifted at my question. "There wasn't a sound from the room for ten minutes after you went in. We couldn't contain our curiosity and wanted to see what was happening."

I instinctively looked at the whiteboard covered in equations. Had I really been looking at it for that long?

I looked at Sherlock again. His voice had been the first I heard, so he must have been the first to come over, drawing Albert here, with Watson and Mrs. Hudson following afterward.

I explained first, "Sorry. I came to see the professor, but his formulas ended up taking all my attention. I not only made a fool of myself in front of Professor Moriarty while he's ill, but also made you worry. I'm really sorry."

In a few words, I made both the professor's and Albert's remarks sound like jokes.

After hearing my explanation, Watson and Mrs. Hudson's startled expressions turned into warm smiles. "That was terribly rude of you."

I apologized again and, on the grounds that Professor Moriarty was ill and needed to rest, had everyone come out with me. I carried the whiteboard out, intending to continue looking at it outside. I'd originally wanted to take a photo, but I was afraid that might amount to plagiarizing someone's intellectual work, so I decided to do it the laborious way instead.

Professor Moriarty didn't keep pressing his little advantage over me. After agreeing to let me take it, he closed his eyes and rested again. His face was still pale and bloodless, and he looked very weak.

A pale complexion had to mean blood deficiency. On top of that, he'd clearly been overworking his brain, which would damage his kidney qi and lead to kidney deficiency. Later on, he'd suffer from memory loss and declining brain function.

His brain was no longer his own.

From the moment he'd wanted to write Asteroid Mechanics, his brain had begun to become part of the world's intellectual wealth.

I worried that he wasn't taking it seriously enough, so I wanted to encourage him, but I was also afraid my excitement would frighten Professor Moriarty. So I simply took a deep breath and said solemnly, "Professor Moriarty, you should get plenty of rest and not think about anything else."

Professor Moriarty didn't respond, but I didn't think he was sleeping deeply yet, so he should have heard me.

Sherlock and Albert, on the other hand, weren't as easy to fool as Watson and Mrs. Hudson. They asked me about touching his face.

Of course, neither of them put it so bluntly, but I wasn't in the mood to deal with the way they phrased things.

I put my hand directly against my own forehead and said, "Where I'm from, we touch someone's forehead to check their temperature. If you really care that much about Professor Moriarty, you should make sure he takes his medicine and builds up his strength. Can't you see something so important?"

The more I spoke, the angrier I grew.

They hadn't even noticed such a great crystallization of intellect. They kept fussing over this and that instead, without any sense of the bigger picture.

I patted the whiteboard.

"Do you know what he's working on right now?"

Unlike Sherlock, who knew nothing about astronomy, Albert had a basic grounding in it. He soon recognized the formulas and said, "Newton's Second Law of Universal Gravitation, and Kepler's Area Law and Harmonic Law. This probably isn't a derivation of Kepler's laws from the law of universal gravitation, since what's on the whiteboard looks a little complicated."

"That's right. It's actually a reverse derivation. Newton's law of gravitation is more universal, while Kepler's laws are special cases. You can derive the latter from the former using calculus and physics, but going from the latter to the former requires more abstract thinking and mathematical reasoning."

"And most importantly," I said, "Professor Moriarty wants to try using a mechanized mathematical foundation to derive Newton's law of universal gravitation automatically from Kepler's laws. Do you know how innovative that idea is? It will establish a series of new algorithms and make things easier in so many fields!"

"Nonlinear Programming."

"The Limit Cycle Problem."

"Proving inequalities and various theorems."

"Factoring multivariate polynomials."

Sherlock quietly walked away while I was talking, and Mr. Albert wore an expression that said he didn't understand but was impressed.

I said earnestly, "This is amazing."

Albert looked at me as though I were from another world and said, "William has never discussed any of this with us, but you understood so much from a single glance. That's amazing too."

How was anything I'd done amazing?

"Can I copy what's on the whiteboard and take it back to work on? Once I'm finished, I'll give it to Professor Moriarty. I want to go back and start writing right now."

If I'd known he wanted to see me so I could help with the calculations, I would have come running.

I must have been too influenced by the comic to think he wanted to hurt me.

Albert seemed about to say something to me, but stopped. Then he turned toward the sleeping Professor Moriarty and finally nodded. "All right. William needs a good rest now, and he can't be distracted by anything else. Sorry to trouble you with the problems, Mr. Lanny."

When I left, Mrs. Hudson, Watson, and Sherlock followed close behind.

Seeing that I intended to hurry back to my room, Mrs. Hudson stopped me with a smile. "Lanny, finish your lunch before you go back."

I stopped in my tracks.

Oh, all right.

I hurried to catch up with Mrs. Hudson.

The second day aboard the Noah.

1:27 p.m.

The four of us from 221B Apartment sat in the cruise ship's buffet restaurant, our table covered with a mouthwatering spread of food.

At the previous evening's dinner, I'd fallen in love with baguettes. In terms of texture, they were indeed rather hard. They also looked quite dry. But once a layer of butter was spread on them, it was as if magic had been worked: the whole loaf became fragrant and satisfying to eat, filling my mouth with the natural aroma of fresh wheat and butter.

They were especially delicious.

During the meal, we also discussed our plans for the afternoon. Watson and Mrs. Hudson decided to continue shopping; I decided to return to my room and work on the problems; Sherlock had no thoughts on my plan and offered no other opinions throughout the discussion.

Just as we were finishing our meal with chocolate Sachertorte for dessert, Lucian and his girlfriend Frida walked over to our table from nearby.

Lucian was very excited to see me. "Lanny, I've been looking for you for ages."

Seeing how carefree he was, I guessed his parents hadn't told him there was a corpse slowly rotting aboard the ship. But since it was winter and we were heading north, preserving the body actually wasn't as difficult as one might imagine.

"Do you want to hear the good news or the even better news?"

To be honest, I didn't want to hear either.

I didn't think he'd bring me any good news, and I already had enough on my plate.

Watson's interest was piqued. "What news?"

Lucian quickly turned his smiling face toward Watson. "The fortune-teller Valentine Butler heard from somewhere that Lanny wanted to challenge his abilities, so he's looking for Lanny and wants to challenge him. He's already waiting in an exhibition hall he rented."

As soon as he said that, Watson and Mrs. Hudson both burst out laughing.

"That doesn't sound like our Lanny at all, does it?" Mrs. Hudson looked at me affectionately. "Lanny is such a well-behaved boy. He's not the sort to go looking for trouble."

I shot a quick glance at the expressionless Sherlock, wondering how to respond.

"But the description sounds just like Lanny." After what Mrs. Hudson had said, Lucian didn't dare insist too forcefully, even though he still held to his opinion.

Watson wasn't very interested in the matter, but he was curious why this was good news. "So what exactly is the good news you brought?"

I guessed he'd only come to build suspense and whet our appetites, and that there wasn't any real good news or even better news. If someone took the bait, the good news would probably be that we could take the fortune-teller Valentine Butler down a peg; the even better news would be that, if we won, he could treat us to a meal.

Lucian scratched his head. Sure enough, he didn't know how to answer. Soon, he asked again, "Lanny, if you're bored, do you want to go take a look and see what it's all about?"

I thought I was the busiest person on the whole ship.

I had to help Sherlock discover the Lord of Crime's identity and help Professor Moriarty with his calculations.

Besides, if the man had set himself up to wait for me, that was his own business.

I had no intention of playing along.

If he got tired of waiting, he'd naturally leave.

I knew how to stop Lucian from pestering me to go take a look. He did enjoy a spectacle, but he didn't dare force me to do anything. The fact that he was urging me again and again now most likely meant he had a personal grudge against the fortune-teller and was using me to settle it.

I was just about to tell Lucian to leave when Sherlock's voice rang out. "Lanny, finish it sooner."

Apparently, this step was also part of Sherlock's plan.

All right, then? The sooner I started, the sooner I'd finish.

I'd treat it as a warm-up.

Just as I was about to stand, Watson beside me seemed to sense something. Like an alert hunting dog, he immediately looked back and forth between Sherlock and me several times, his eyes widening.

"Sherlock!"

He couldn't get another word out.

Watson had clearly guessed that Sherlock was behind this and thought he was dragging me into it. He must have been too angry to think straight, unable to say anything but his name.

I didn't think it was that big a deal, really.

I didn't feel put upon.

First, I really didn't think facing the fortune-teller would put me under much pressure. I had no desire to compete with him. If he won, I'd congratulate him and apologize; if he lost, I wasn't about to trample on him and tell him he could never tell fortunes again. Simply put, I didn't care either way.

Second, ever since I was little, there had been few things I liked doing. I was also the type to lose interest quickly, but I knew full well that I couldn't rely on interest to get everything done. So I was used to putting up with hardship and didn't always do things for the sake of profit or because they interested me.

Third, when I came to 221B Apartment, I'd promised to help him investigate cases as long as it didn't interfere with my studies. A gentleman's word, once given, could not be taken back.

I was just about to say, "It's fine," when Sherlock spoke first.

He said, "Lanny, you're amazing."

I didn't know how I followed Lucian to the exhibition hall the fortune-teller had reserved to receive challengers.

Sitting in that comfortable chair, I could touch its velvet surface and feel its fine texture. All of it made me feel my emotions more keenly.

I was silent for a long, long time, as though time had stopped around me. There I was, feeling that miraculous stillness.

Sherlock's words had struck me like an electric shock, leaving me shaken to my core. He wasn't usually the sort to praise people easily. And I could tell he hadn't just said it casually to coax me into taking part. That was why I was so surprised.

I was still too shocked to calm down, until a young man of around thirty looked me up and down.

"You're Lanny Hamish?"

Only then did I awaken as if from a dream.

Wow—!

I was praised!