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Sherlock Sam's Orange Shorts

Page 1

by A. J. Low




  ALSO IN THE SERIES

  Sherlock Sam and the Missing Heirloom in Katong

  Sherlock Sam and the Ghostly Moans in Fort Canning

  Sherlock Sam and the Sinister Letters in Bras Basah

  Sherlock Sam and the Alien Encounter on Pulau Ubin

  Sherlock Sam and the Vanished Robot in Penang

  Sherlock Sam and the Cloaked Classmate in MacRitchie

  Sherlock Sam and the Stolen Script in Balestier

  Sherlock Sam and the Fiendish Mastermind in Jurong

  Sherlock Sam and the Obento Bonanza in Tokyo

  Sherlock Sam and the Comic Book Caper in New York

  Sherlock Sam and the Quantum Pair in Queenstown

  Copyright © 2017 by Adan Jimenez and Felicia Low-Jimenez

  Illustrations copyright © 2017 by Epigram Books

  All rights reserved.

  Published in Singapore by Epigram Books.

  www.epigrambooks.sg

  Illustrations by Drewscape

  Designed by Yong Wen Yeu

  National Library Board, Singapore Cataloguing in Publication Data

  Names: Low, A. J. | Drewscape, illustrator.

  Title: Sherlock Sam’s orange shorts/A. J. Low ; illustrations by Drewscape.

  Description: Singapore : Epigram Books, [2017]

  Series: Sherlock Sam ; 11.5.

  Identifiers: OCN 985149500

  ISBN : 978-981-17-0066-8 (paperback)

  ISBN : 978-981-17-0067-5 (eBook)

  Subjects: LCSH: Child detectives--Singapore--Juvenile fiction. | Space and time--Juvenile fiction. | Time travel--Juvenile fiction.

  Classification: DDC S823--dc23

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First Edition 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  CONTENTS

  CAPTAIN WATSON AND THE ALIEN ATTACK AT ONAY-359

  ELIZA AND THE HIDDEN CRYPT IN THE FOWL TOMB

  JIMMY THE JOLLY AND THE DARK SORCERER IN KATONGLIA

  AGENT M AND AGENT D GET SMART IN THE AIR-CONDITIONED NATION

  NAZHAR AND THE ACCIDENTAL NINJA IN EDO

  SHERIFF MORAN AND THE MOKNIFICENT SEVEN IN TUMBLEWEED

  WEN DI AND THE ART OF COLOUR-FU IN THE MIDDLE KINGDOM

  INSPECTORS SIVA AND LESTRADE AND THE IMPROBABLE SITUATION IN MEXICO CITY

  CHICKEN WING AND THE STOLEN JEWELS IN THE LION CITY

  JAMES MOK AND THE EXPENDABLE MINIONS IN LONDON

  Spacedate 101000000111: Captain Watson of the RSS Space Dragon sat in his chair and contemplated the grandest mysteries of the universe.

  “Where-do-they-find-such-uncomfortablematerial?” he asked, pulling on his green uniform.

  “I believe it’s to keep us awake, sir,” Commander Wendy replied. “It’s night all the time out here in space, after all.” Captain Watson’s second-in-command had never heard a rhetorical question she couldn’t answer.

  “Sir, we’re coming up on Oˉ naˉy-359,” Navigator Nazhar said. This was the young lieutenant’s first posting and he was very eager.

  “Why-are-we-at-Oˉ naˉ y-359?” Captain Watson asked. “I-told-you-to-set-a-course-forMandai-53.”

  Unfortunately, Navigator Nazhar’s eagerness did not make up for his terrible navigation skills.

  “I was looking forward to studying the animal life on Mandai-53,” Science Officer Moran said. “But studying the space debris surrounding Oˉ naˉy-359 could be just as interesting. I have already catalogued eight comets, four pulsars, and three different kinds of discontinued shipping frigates with an abundance of food in their holds.” Science Officer Moran was an Artificial Intelligence, just like Captain Watson, though he was a newer model, and therefore not as experienced as the captain.

  Doctor Eliza scoffed. “Only you would think space debris was interesting.” Doctor Eliza didn’t have the most pleasant bedside manner, but she was the best doctor in the entire universe.

  “It can be quite interesting, if you know what to look for,” Science Officer Moran replied.

  “Since-we-are-already-here-we-should-seewhatelse-is-in-the-frigates,” Captain Watson said. “All-of-you-come-with-me.”

  “Watson, we’re the senior officers of this ship,” Doctor Eliza said. “Shouldn’t we stay on the ship and run things from here, instead of traipsing around possibly dangerous space debris? You’re the captain, for goodness’ sake. You should definitely stay here and captain.”

  “Why-must-we-have-this-conversationeverytime-I-want-to-leave-the-ship?” Captain Watson asked. “Lieutenant-Boey-can-takecareof-the-ship-like-she-always-does.”

  “This makes absolutely no sense,” Doctor Eliza grumbled under her breath. “This never makes any sense.” She followed Captain Watson anyway, and so did Science Officer Moran, Navigator Nazhar and Commander Wendy.

  The RSS Space Dragon docked with one of the frigates, and Captain Watson and his away team entered through the docking port.

  It was dark inside, but they had all brought torch lights along with their scanning equipment. They walked down the empty hallways until they reached the first cross junction. To their left and right were multiple locked doors.

  “Navigator-Nazhar,” Captain Watson said, pointing to his right. “Open-that-door.”

  “Yes, sir.” Navigator Nazhar dutifully opened the door Captain Watson pointed at. It was dark in there too, and Navigator Nazhar disappeared into the darkness. A little while later, bright light emerged from the room.

  “You guys should come in here,” Navigator Nazhar said.

  “Why?” Doctor Eliza asked. “Anything dangerous in there? Am I going to have to reattach any limbs?”

  They all stepped into the room and saw Navigator Nazhar standing in front of a large mountain of chicken wings.

  “Nothing dangerous,” he said. “Just a bunch of chicken wings.” He brought the one he was holding to his mouth and took a bite.

  “Fascinating,” Science Officer Moran said.

  “Navigator Nazhar!” Doctor Eliza shouted. “You have no idea how long these chicken wings have been here! You’re going to give yourself food poisoning!”

  “But they’re pretty delicious, Doctor,” Navigator Nazhar said. “You should try them.”

  “I have a bad feeling about this,” Commander Wendy said, looking around room. “You know what loves chicken wings.”

  “I-do,” Captain Watson said. “Back-to-the-ship-everybody. We-are-likely-to-receiveunwelcomeguests-soon.”

  Suddenly, there was a loud boom as the frigate rocked violently. The lights in the room went out, and everybody had to turn their torch lights back on.

  “They’re already here,” Commander Wendy said, the dread clear in her tone.

  “Captain Watson, sir!” Lieutenant Boey’s voice could be heard over their scanning equipment. “You won’t believe what’s just started swarming the frigates.”

  “I-know,” Captain Watson said.

  “Sherlockians.” Sherlockians were a spacefaring race that loved to eat. They travelled the galaxy without the need for starships, looking for matter to consume, and their favourite food was chicken wings.

  The away team ran out of the room and tried to go back the way they came, but were blocked by a wall of Sherlockians eating the walls of the hallway. The creatures were indistinguishable from each other as they all wore shiny orange jumpsuits and glasses. They also all had spiky black hair.

  “Back,” Captain Watson said. “Back-awaynow.”

  They retreated slowly until one Sherlockian suddenly stopped eating through some wiring and sniffed the air
. “I smell chicken wings,” it said. The other Sherlockians stopped chomping at the walls and also started sniffing the air. Then they all began to move towards Navigator Nazhar.

  Doctor Eliza glared at Navigator Nazhar. “If I become a redshirt because of you, I swear I will haunt you,” she said.

  Navigator Nazhar gulped.

  “Run. Now,” Captain Watson said. It was quite amazing how he managed to infuse urgency into his deadpan voice. His crew ran back towards the junction while Captain Watson used his extendable arms to pull part of the wall between himself and the advancing Sherlockians.

  He ran after his crew and caught up with them at the cross junction. Science Officer Moran was looking at a map of the frigate on his scanning device. “If we go down this hall, past the chicken wings, we should find another airlock with a small escape pod attached.”

  “It’ll be a bit squeezy with all five of us in there,” Commander Wendy said. “But it’s better than being jettisoned into space if one of these Sherlockians causes an explosive decompression when it eats through the walls.”

  “Assuming they haven’t already eaten the escape pod,” Doctor Eliza said.

  “Lieutenant-Boey,” Captain Watson said. “Bring-the-Space-Dragon-around-to-thestarboardside-of-the-frigate-and-get-ready-tocatchan-escape-pod.”

  “Yes, sir!” Lieutenant Boey said.

  The away team ran down the hallway. When they reached the escape pod, they came face to face with a Sherlockian eating its way through a wall.

  “We should really stun these creatures,” Doctor Eliza said.

  “We-are-not-going-to-stun-them,” Captain Watson said. “They-are-basically-harmlessanimalsthat-act-primarily-on-instinct. Youwouldnot-stun-a-kitten-for-scratching-youwouldyou?”

  The nearby Sherlockian stopped chewing the wall when it heard this. It said, “I’ll have you know we’re actually a very advanced race of sentient beings that have evolved over billions of—”

  The Sherlockian stopped mid-sentence when Captain Watson produced a chicken wing from his secret storage compartment. The Sherlockian was transfixed by the food. Captain Watson waved the chicken wing around, and the Sherlockian followed it with its eyes. Captain Watson then tossed it behind the Sherlockian into the escape pod, and the Sherlockian ran after it. Captain Watson closed the airlock and jettisoned the escape pod, disposing of the Sherlockian safely. Navigator Nazhar looked out the porthole and saw the Sherlockian nibbling on the chicken wing inside the escape pod.

  “That-one-has-been-taken-care-of,” Captain Watson said.

  “But we’ll run out of chicken wings before we get rid of all of them,” Commander Wendy said.

  “Not to mention escape pods,” Doctor Eliza said.

  “I-have-another-plan,” Captain Watson said. “But-it-will-be-dangerous.”

  “Your plans are always dangerous, Watson,” Doctor Eliza said.

  Captain Watson led his away team back to the chicken wing storage room.

  “Everybody-start-shouting,” Captain Watson said.

  “I do not understand, Captain,” Science Officer Moran said. “For what purpose?”

  “I-want-to-bring-all-the-Sherlockians-here,” Captain Watson said. “I-want-to-give-themexactlywhat-they-want.”

  “That’s brilliant, Captain,” Commander Wendy said. “Then they’ll ignore us.”

  “Darn it, Watson. I’m a doctor, not a lunch lady!” Doctor Eliza protested.

  They all started shouting, enticing the Sherlockians with descriptions of the chicken wings. Navigator Nazhar, being the only one to have actually eaten one, could add more details to his descriptions.

  After some time, they heard thousands of footsteps heading in their direction. Captain Watson ordered his away team to stop yelling and flatten themselves against the wall around the door.

  Hundreds of Sherlockians started pouring through the doorway and heading straight for the mountain of chicken wings. They completely ignored the away team on either side of them and munched happily on their food.

  When the last of the Sherlockians had entered the room, Captain Watson signalled to his crew to leave. Navigator Nazhar and Commander Wendy closed the door.

  “That will not hold them for long if they decide to try to escape, “Science Officer Moran said, “but I do not think they will attempt to do so until they have finished the chicken wings.”

  “Giving-us-enough-time-to-leave-this-ship,” Captain Watson said.

  “Captain Watson, sir!” Lieutenant Boey shouted over their scanning devices. “Why did you ask me to pick up this escape pod?! There was a Sherlockian inside!”

  “Whoops,” Captain Watson said. “Recaptureitand-jettison-it-into-space. Then-come-pick-us-up-in-the-escape-pod-from-the-port-side. We-will-definitely-be-in-that-one.”

  Captain Watson and his crew made it to the portside escape pod without any trouble and launched it into space. As Commander Wendy had predicted, they were a bit squished inside. The RSS Space Dragon picked them up shortly after launching the frigate’s other escape pod. Captain Watson peered into the other pod and saw the Sherlockian chewing through some batteries.

  “I-hope-that-was-not-my-dinner,” Captain Watson said.

  Once on the ship, they all went back to the bridge. Captain Watson took back his captain’s chair from Lieutenant Boey, who was looking very frazzled, likely from having to recapture the Sherlockian.

  “Nazhar-how-about-setting-a-course-forMandai-53-but-correctly-this-time,” Captain Watson said.

  “Umm, of course, sir,” Navigator Nazhar said. “Moran, could you come help me with something completely unrelated?”

  Before Science Officer Moran could move, there were suddenly many thumps coming from the hull of the RSS Space Dragon.

  “What was that?” Commander Wendy asked. “Have the Sherlockians finished the chicken wings already?”

  “I am afraid those are not the Sherlockians,” Science Officer Moran said, “but their ‘best friends’.”

  Captain Watson put his face in his hand.

  “The-Jimmylians.”

  Jimmylians were grinning aliens that tended to follow Sherlockian swarms. There didn’t seem to be any reason for it beyond the fact that Jimmylians simply liked to be around Sherlockians. They were quite a clumsy species, however, constantly tripping and falling, even in the vacuum of space. They posed no real danger, but could be quite a nuisance.

  The thumping on the hull continued unabated.

  “How could they be falling!?” Doctor Eliza shouted. “There’s no gravity out there!”

  “We won’t be able to leave until we clear them from the hull, Captain,” Commander Wendy said. Captain Watson knew this, and was annoyed he would have to delay his arrival at Mandai-53 even longer.

  “Let me guess—you want your senior staff to suit up and take care of the Jimmylians,” Doctor Eliza said. “Because, of course, that would make the most sense.” Her sarcasm dripped like honey, but the kind that rotted teeth.

  With his face still in his hand, Captain Watson said, “No-I-think-I-will-listen-toyouradvice-this-time-Doctor. LieutenantBoey-please-suit-up-and-clear-the-hull-ofJimmylians.”

  Lieutenant Boey’s face fell. “Why am I only ever activated for babysitting or janitor duties?” she grumbled as she made her way to the deep space suit chamber. “I’m putting in for a transfer as soon as we get back to a base.”

  THE END

  Eliza was stuck.

  She was caught between a rock and a hard place—literally.

  “I think you might be stuck, Eliza,” a calm voice said from the side of her that was still outside the cave.

  Her head swung menacingly towards the person who had spoken. Her eyes narrowed.

  “This might have been one of your worst ideas yet,” the voice continued.

  Eliza strained, trying to swat in the direction of the offending voice, but the person took a quick step back, away from her.

  All around her was dense teeming jungle that had done an admirab
le job concealing the entrance to the ancient tomb she had been tasked to enter. She could have sworn she heard an odd, piercing shriek in the distance. She tried to tell herself that it had to be an indigenous bird—a herbivore or an insectivore, not a meat eater. No, no, not that. It was no wonder this island wasn’t on any map. Who on earth would want to come here if they didn’t have to?

  She glared at her well-travelled backpack that was lying just out of arm’s reach. Her gear, especially her grappling hook, would be particularly handy right about now. Also, her nifty wooden staff or homemade torch that were both leaning comfortably against her backpack. Alas.

  She grunted and strained. She even wriggled in as dignified a manner as she possibly could, but nothing worked. She was wedged in.

  “What are you doing?” the voice asked.

  “I’m trying to strangle you, but I clearly can’t reach you,” Eliza snarled. “Come closer, Nazhar.”

  Nazhar huffed and crossed both arms across his chest. He said, “You were the one who needed my help.” His glasses were fogged due to the humidity. Both he and Eliza were dressed in khaki—dirty, muddy khaki. He held an old book in one hand. It looked ancient—its cover was tattered and torn, some pages were dog-eared and yellowed, and seemed to be precariously clinging to its binding.

  “I just want that book you’re clutching,” Eliza snarled. “It has the directions I need. I don’t need the clumsy historian that comes with it.”

  “The last time I loaned you one of my ancient texts, you fed it to a crocodile!” Nazhar retorted, throwing his arms up in the air.

  “I already explained that—I had no choice. It was either the book or my arm. I picked the one that was replaceable.”

  “That was a one-of-a-kind historical text, Eliza!”

  Eliza took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “Look, are you going to help me or not?”

  Nazhar remained silent for a moment longer. Finally, he exhaled loudly and said, “Fine.” He thought for a moment and then snapped his fingers. He backed up a short distance and then ran towards her!

 

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