Drake said, “Because then he would have called his treatise, On the Dynamics of Mercury. He couldn't possibly have discovered something that solved this prime astronomical paradox that had been puzzling astronomers for thirty years and have called it anything else.”
Mason looked dissatisfied. “Then what you're saying is that there isn't anything that Moriarty could have written that would have had the title On the Dynamics of an Asteroid and still have represented a first-class piece of mathematical work?”
Drake blew a smoke ring. “I guess that's what I'm saying. What I'm also saying, I suppose, is that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle didn't know enough astronomy to stuff a pig's ear, and that he didn't know what he was saying when he invented the title. But I suppose that sort of thing is not permitted to be said.”
“No,” said Mason, his round face sunk in misery. “Not in the Sherlockian universe. There goes my paper, then.”
“Pardon me,” said Henry, from his post at the sideboard. “May I ask a question?”
Drake said, “You know you can, Henry. Don't tell me you're an astronomer.”
“No, sir. At least, not beyond the average knowledge of an educated American. Still, am I correct in supposing that there are a large number of asteroids known?”
“Over seventeen hundred have had their orbits calculated, Henry,” said Drake.
“And there were a number known in Professor Moriarty's time, too, weren't there?”
“Sure. Several dozen.”
“In that case, sir,” said Henry, “why does the title of the treatise read The Dynamics of an Asteroid! Why an asteroid?”
Drake thought a moment, then said, “That's a good point. I don't know—unless it's another indication that Doyle didn't know enough—”
“Don't say that,” said Mason.
“Well—leave it at I don't know, then.”
Gonzalo said, “Maybe Moriarty just worked it out for one asteroid, and that's all.”
Drake said, “Then he would have named it The Dynamics of Ceres or whatever asteroid he worked on.”
Gonzalo said stubbornly, “No, that's not what I mean. I don't mean he worked it out for one particular asteroid. I mean he picked an asteroid at random, or just an ideal asteroid, maybe not one that really exists. Then he worked out its dynamics.”
Drake said, “That's not a bad notion, Mario. The only trouble is that if Moriarty worked out the dynamics of an asteroid, the basic mathematical system, it would hold for all of them, and the title of the paper would be The Dynamics of Asteroids. And besides, whatever he worked out in that respect would be only Newtonian and not of prime value.”
“Do you mean to say,” said Gonzalo, reluctant to let go, “that not one of the asteroids had something special about its orbit?”
“None known in 1875 did,” said Drake. “They all had orbits between those of Mars and Jupiter and they all followed gravitational theory with considerable exactness. We know some asteroids with unusual orbits now. The first unusual asteroid to be discovered was Eros, which has an orbit that takes it closer to the Sun than Mars ever goes and brings it, on occasion, to within fourteen million miles of Earth, closer to Earth than any other body its size or larger, except for the Moon.
“That, however, wasn't discovered till 1898. Then, in 1906, Achilles was discovered. It was the first of the Trojan asteroids and they are unusual because they move around the Sun in Jupiter's orbit though well before or behind that planet.”
Gonzalo said, “Couldn't Moriarty have anticipated those discoveries, and worked out the unusual orbits?”
“Even if he had anticipated them, the orbits are unusual only in their position, not in their dynamics. The Trojan asteroids did offer some interesting theoretical aspects, but that had already been worked out by Lagrange a century before.”
There was a short silence and then Henry said, “The title is, however, so definite, sir. If we accept the Sherlockian premise that it must make sense, can it possibly have referred to some time when there was only a single body orbiting between Mars and Jupiter?”
Drake grinned. “Don't try to act ignorant, Henry. You're talking about the explosion theory of the origin of the asteroids.”
For a moment, it seemed as though Henry might smile. If the impulse existed, he conquered it, however, and said, “I have come across, in my reading, the suggestion that there had once been a planet between Mars and Jupiter and that it had exploded.”
Drake said, “That's not a popular theory any more, but it certainly had its day. In 1801, when the first asteroid, Ceres, was discovered, it turned out to be only about 450 miles across, astonishingly small. What was far more astonishing, though, was that over the next three years three other asteroids were discovered, with very similar orbits. The notion of an exploded planet was brought up at once.”
Henry said, “Couldn't Professor Moriarty have been referring to that planet before its explosion, when speaking of an asteroid?”
Drake said, “I suppose he could have, but why not call it a planet?”
“Would it have been a large planet?” ,
“No, Henry. If all the asteroids are lumped together, they would make up a planet scarcely a thousand miles in diameter.”
“Might it not be closer to what we now consider an asteroid, then, rather than to what we consider a planet? Mightn't that have been even more true in 1875 when fewer asteroids were known and the original body would have seemed smaller still?”
Drake said, “Maybe. But why not call it the asteroid, then?”
“Perhaps Professor Moriarty felt that to call the paper The Dynamics of the Asteroid was too definite. Perhaps he felt the explosion theory was not certain enough to make it possible to speak of anything more than an asteroid. However unscrupulous Professor Moriarty might have been in the world outside science, we must suppose that he was a most careful and rigidly precise mathematician.”
Mason was smiling again. “I like that, Henry. It's a great idea.” He said to Gonzalo, “You were right”
“I told you,” said Gonzalo.
Drake said, “Hold on, let's see where it takes us. Moriarty can't be just talking about the dynamics of the original asteroid as a world orbiting about the Sun, because it would be following gravitational theory just as all its descendants are.
“He would have to be talking about the explosion. He would have to be analyzing the forces in planetary structure that would make an explosion conceivable. He would have to discuss the consequences of the explosion, and all that would not lie within the bounds of gravitational theory. He would have to calculate the events in such a way that the explosive forces would give way to gravitational effects and leave the asteroidal fragments in the orbits they have today.”
Drake considered, then nodded, and went on. “That would not be bad. It would be a mathematical problem worthy of Moriarty's brain, and we might consider it to have represented the first attempt of any mathematician to take up so complicated an astronomical problem. Yes, I like it.”
Mason said, “I like it too. If I can remember everything you've all said, I have my article. Good Lord, this is wonderful.”
Henry said, “As a matter of fact, gentlemen, I think this hypothesis is even better than Dr. Drake has made it sound. I believe that Mr. Rubin said earlier that we must assume that Professor Moriarty's treatise was suppressed, since it cannot be located in the scientific annals. Well, it seems to me that if our theory can also explain that suppression, it becomes much more forceful.”
“Quite so,” said Avalon, “but can it?”
“Consider,” said Henry, and a trace of warmth entered his quiet voice, “that over and above the difficulty of the problem, and of the credit therefore to be gained in solving it, there is a peculiar appeal in the problem to Professor Moriarty in view of his known character.
“After all, we are dealing with the destruction of a world. To a master criminal such as Professor Moriarty, whose diseased genius strove to produce chaos on Earth, to
disrupt and corrupt the world's economy and society, there must have been something utterly fascinating in the vision of the actual physical destruction of a world.
“Might not Moriarty have imagined that on that original asteroid another like himself had existed, one who had not only tapped the vicious currents of the human soul but had even tampered with the dangerous forces of a planet's interior? Moriarty might have imagined that this super-Moriarty of the original asteroid had deliberately destroyed his world, and all life on it, including his own, out of sheer joy in malignancy, leaving the asteroids that now exist as the various tombstones that commemorate the action.
“Could Moriarty even have envied the deed and tried to work out the necessary action that would have done the same on Earth? Might not those few European mathematicians who could catch even a glimpse of what Moriarty was saying in his treatise have understood that what it described was not only a mathematical description of the origin of the asteroids but the beginning of a recipe for the ultimate crime—that of the destruction of Earth itself, of all life, and Of the creation of a much larger asteroid belt?
“It is no wonder, if that were so, that a horrified scientific community suppressed the work.”
And when Henry was done, there was a moment of silence and then Drake applauded. The others quickly joined in.
Henry reddened. “I'm sorry,” he murmured when the applause died. “I'm afraid I allowed myself to be carried away.”
“Not at all,” said Avalon. “It was a surprising burst of poetry that I was glad to have heard.”
Halsted said, “Frankly, I think that's perfect. It's exactly what Moriarty would do and it explains everything. Wouldn't you say so, Ron?”
“I will say so,” said Mason, “as soon as I get over being speechless. I ask nothing better than to prepare a Sherlockian paper based on Henry's analysis. How can I square it with my conscience, however, to appropriate his ideas?”
Henry said, “It is yours, Mr. Mason, my free gift, for initiating a very gratifying session. You see, I have been a devotee of Sherlock Holmes for many years, myself.”
12 Afterword
Let me confess.
I am a member of Baker Street Irregulars. / got in despite the fact that I had never written a Sherlockian article. / was the one who thought it would be easy to write one if I had to and then found to my horror that every member of the Baker Street Irregulars was infinitely more knowledgeable in the sacred writings than I was and that I couldn't possibly compete. (Nevertheless, Ronald Mason in this story is not I and does not look anything like me.)
It was only under the urgings of fellow BSI-ers Michael Harrison and Banesh Hoffman that I finally stirred out of my paralysis, and then only after Harrison had suggested I take up the matter of The Dynamics of an Asteroid. I wrote a 1,600-word article with great enthusiasm and fell so deeply in love with my own clever analysis of the situation that I could not bear to think that only a few hundred other BSI-ers would ever see it.
I therefore converted it into “The Ultimate Crime” and made a Black Widowers story out of it for a wider audience.
And at last I feel like a real Baker Street Irregular.
And once again, now that I have come to the conclusion of the book, I will have to repeat what I said at the end of the first book. I will write more Black Widowers. For one thing, I have fallen in love with all the characters. For another, I can't help myself. It's gotten to the point where almost everything I see or do gets run through some special pipeline in my mind, quite automatically and involuntarily, to see if a Black Widowers plot might not come out the other end.