I’m delighted to announce the official release of the Sherlock is a Girls’ Name anthology – co-edited by me and Atlin Merrick – which imagines Sherlock Holmes as female, in tall tales that follow the great detective and her Watsons in deep space, 1990s Russia, Victorian London, contemporary USA, worlds of magic and more.
Sherlock is a Girl’s Name contains wonderful stories by Tansy Rayner Roberts, Eugen Bacon, Sarah Tollok, Verity Burns, Dannye Chase, Kenzie Lappin, JD Cadmon, Stacy Lawhorne, Karen J. Carlisle, Katya de Becerra, Millie Billingsworth, Narrelle M. Harris, and Atlin Merrick! Cover art by the always brilliant Andrea L Farley (aka Altocello)
Read on below for an teaser from my own story, “The Solitary Recyclist”, set on board a spaceship that’s part of a larger fleet, showing that famous first meeting in a new context!
Buy Sherlock is a Girl’s Name:
An extract from “The Solitary Recyclist”:
‘Watson!’ St4mf0rd called out across the rows of shelves. ‘I’ve brought someone to meet you!’
Rows away, a whirr sounded, a metallic creak. A pleasantly modulated voice rose up. ‘I’ll be right with you.’
The creaking and whirring come closer, until a strange being came into view.
The AI designated W4t50n had dark synthi-skin which only partially covered the ‘droid’s face and skull, revealing the bright metal endoskeleton of a cheekbone and forehead. The android’s mismatched mech-eyes – one blue, one brown – were dilated, taking in every nuance of the light spectrum. W4t50n’s right hand was finely detailed, with dark skin over long, dextrous fingers. The left was a metal skeleton sheathed in a close-fitting rubber glove, in which W4t50n held a magnetic screwdriver. The android’s trouser-clad legs appeared to be slightly different lengths, producing an uneven gait. The right leg whirred as W4t50n walked. The creaking emanated from the android’s left shoulder when it raised an arm to place the screwdriver on a nearby shelf.
‘Stamford, hello. And hello…?’
‘This is Sherlock Holmes,’ announced St4mf0rd as though producing a rabbit from a hat.
W4t50n cast an appraising, inquisitive look over Sherlock. ‘A pleasure to meet you at last. Stamford said he wanted to introduce us.’
‘He did?’
‘Stamford hasn’t told you about me?’ W4t50n ventured.
‘He may have tried. I’ve been preoccupied.’
The skin on W4t50n’s face stretched in an amused smile. ‘He said you were often preoccupied.’
‘I often have things on my mind. I’m a consulting detective, you see. The only one in the fleet.’
The announcement prompted wariness. ‘A detective?’
‘A consulting detective.’
‘He said you solved mysteries and knew things about people even when you’d never met them before.’
‘I have a modest talent in that area,’ said Sherlock, her tone by no means modest. ‘For instance,’ she continued, her grey eyes bright, ‘I know that you served on the military frigate Afghan Prince before you were badly injured in the pirate raid that took place eighteen months ago while protecting an asteroid mining operation.’
W4t50n’s eyes whirred wide. ‘How could you…? Did Stamford tell you my history?’
‘Not a word of it, though he hinted that you had one. I merely observe, and connect the dots of what I know.’
‘Which is?’
‘No other situation could explain the magnitude of your injuries, your presence on the Londinium, or the repairs you’ve undertaken using non-military parts,’ said Sherlock. She seemed to realise that her crisp explanations were discomfiting to the android, and she continued in a gentler tone. ‘Had you died, under the technical specifications for AI death, your body would have been recycled on the Prince or the nearest hospital vessel. That you’ve made it this far, with such significant injuries, suggests you were recovered from space or from the skin of the Prince and transferred to the Pearl of India hospital ship for assessment, possibly with someone to advocate for your survival.’
‘My human partner, Murray, brought me to safety, thinking I might continue to function,’ said W4t50n carefully. ‘The ‘droid assessment staff disagreed.’
‘Murray must have argued eloquently on your behalf, and surely you must have still been capable of speaking for yourself.’
‘She did, and I was,’ agreed W4t50n. ‘Nobody thought I’d truly recover, though; even Murray.’
Sherlock nodded gravely. ‘And so you were relieved of military duty and sent to a civilian ship,’ she said, then smiled brightly at W4t50n. ‘Where you admirably defied the odds. And as you evidently continue to be self-aware and capable of repair, the authorities are not permitted to reduce you to components.’
W4t50n raised an eyebrow in dry humour. ‘I am yet alive, within the meaning of the Act.’ W4t50n’s chin lifted. ‘What else do you guess about me?’