“Holmes, this just came in the mail.” “Any addess?” “221, Baker Street…” “Not MY address, Watson, but the address of the sender!” “Actually, none. It just says ‘from a desperate tech blog in the future!’” “Hmmm…” “What do you think that could mean?” “It is him again, Watson!” “Moriarty?” “No, idiot, he is in the past. This is a strange message from the future.” “Which allows me to deduce, Holmes, that we have one.” “One what?” “A future…” “Yes, yes, maybe, genius. Anyway, a few times a year I always get a message like this. Same unmarked envelope. Same sender. And inside there’s always a card requesting me to analyze a piece of paper…” “Surely a prank!” “No, Watson. Not a prank.” “Why? Because you doubt not the sincerity of the sender?” “No, because I doubt not the sincerity with which he makes a payment into my account every time I send him my analysis. Doubts are fine, cash is better. Chequemate!” “What does he want this time?” “Let’s find out by simply opening the envelope. Unmarked as always you can see. And amazingly the man has sent an image that is in colour and yet does not seem to have been painted, and on paper that is surprisingly smooth and unlike the rough sheets one gets in London these days. And yes, here’s the accompanying note, typed as usual in a Godforsaken font which seems to have come out of no typewriter I know of (one which leaves no indentations on the paper) – ‘PFA. Plz Anal. Pment usual!” “The infernal sodomite!” “Ah, I see the word ‘anal’ has got you all worked up. Get a grip on yourself, Watson. You see words, but don’t read them. A careful look at the note will reveal that this is a person with limited understanding of the niceties of the language, who feels he is too busy to write an additional letter or two to complete a word. What he actually means is ‘analysis.’ Similarly, careful analysis reveals that ‘pment’ actually refers to ‘payment.’ I actually thought it meant ‘pavement’ for a while but then better sense prevailed…” “But, Holmes, what about PFA…” “There you have me stumped, Watson. I have no idea whatever that means. Initially I felt it referred to a Perfidious Foul Assassin, then I moved on to Proferred Foreign Aid, but now I think it actually refers to Post For Analysis – he has sent us a letter for analysis…” “Amazing. What else can you deduce from the note?’ “Well, I can tell you that the writer is a relatively young person of average height and some intelligence, that he makes a living by trying to run a logging service which for some curious reason is called a blog, fancies himself as a genius, is scared of the fairer sex, is terrified of his own gender, likes to live in dark rooms, has a fascination for machines, and dreams of getting free devices for review from manufacturing organisations, hoping to keep himself solvent by writing about them. Oh and the irregular and frenzied stains on the paper indicate he also does something that he calls hands-on!” “Holmes, you are a genius!” “Elementary, my dear chap. But let us look at the note that the person has sent us, shall we? For funds are low ever since we worked out that the Hound of the Baskervilles was in fact a dog with trust issues! Take a look at it yourself. What do you think?” “But…but this could mean anything!!” “Very much so. What do YOU think it means anyway?” “It says ‘see you on the 7th.’ And there are some colored dots, like a badly focused image on the background…” “Badly focused, eh? Clearly cameras in the so-called ‘future’ have not got any better! But what think you of the words?” “‘See you on the 7th.’ It could be an appointment to meet someone of the seventh of a particular month…” “Or it could be an appointment to meet someone at a golf course. On the seventh hole! The colored spheres could be golf balls.” “Good Lord, Holmes…” “Indeed. Or are they bullet marks, indicative of an assassination that is to take place on the 7th. Maybe via a machine gun because the holes are so close together…” “Or maybe they are the footprints of a gigantic hound?” “Watson! Get a grip on yourself. We worked out that case a long time ago. No, this is clearly the work of a clever mind. A mind that knows it is a cut above the rest, and even though it feels threatened by something called Android (part human?), it clearly has something up its sleeve. Hence the badly focused images which tease the viewer about what they really are.” “And what are they?” “Spotlights, Watson. This is the invitation to an event. Preferably to a theatre of some sort, where a play will be enacted with perhaps a Phone-y script even as the spectators scribble on their Pads and check their Watches. The critics will be in the dark and the believers will see the light…” “Tough for the actors, then…” “Yes, indeed. There have been no Jobs of late, but people always Cook up something. I am sure they will this time as well. They always do when it comes to the Big Apple. Always a new System of Operations, always new Tunes, always looking for Stabilization of their own Images, focusing on new Applications and touching screens with depth.” “Are you sending him an answer then?” “Yes, indeed, Watson. On the lines of what I told you. I hope he will be pleased this time. He did pay the last time around but had asked me if I could get him a leak. I wonder if he has some interest in toilets. Odd people, these bloggers of the ‘future.’ Come, Watson, let’s go and send him his answer.” “The game is afoot then?” “Indeed it is. Only this time it is not a foot. It is a phone. And it is coming on the 7th!”
