by Eoin Colfer
Butler bent low to the ground, scanning the trolley's underside.
'No explosive devices visible.'
He extracted a Sweeper from his pocket, extending the telescopic aerial.
'No bugs either. Nothing detectable at any rate. But what do we have here?'
'Uh oh,' said Foaly.
'It's a camera.'
Butler reached in, pulling the fish-eye lens out by the cable.
'Nighty-night, gentlemen.'
In spite of the load it carried, the trolley responded easily to Butler's touch, gliding across the threshold into the lobby. It stood there humming softly, as though waiting to be unloaded.
Now that the moment had come, Artemis was almost afraid to seize it. It was hard to believe that after all these months, his wicked scheme was minutes away from fruition. Of course these last few minutes were the vital ones, and the most dangerous.
'Open it,' he said at last, surprised at the tremble in his own voice.
It was an irresistible instant. Juliet approached tentatively, spangled eyes wide. Even Holly closed the throttle a notch, dropping until her feet brushed the marble tiling. Butler unzipped the black tarpaulin, dragging it back across the cargo. Nobody said a thing.
Artemis imagined that somewhere the 1812 Overture was playing. The gold sat there, stacked in shining rows. It seemed to have an aura, a warmth, but also an inherent danger. There were a lot of people
willing to die or kill for the unimaginable wealth this gold could bring. Holly was mesmerized. Fairies have an affinity for minerals, they are of the earth. But gold was their favourite. Its lustre. Its allure.
'They paid,' she breathed. 'I can't believe it.'
'Neither can I,' murmured Artemis. 'Butler, is it real?'
Butler hefted a bar from the stack. He dug the tip of a throwing knife into the ingot, gouging out a small sliver.
'It's real all right,' he said, holding the scraping up to the light.
'This one, at any rate.'
'Good. Very good. Begin unloading it, would you? We'll send the trolley back out with Captain Short.'
Hearing her name dispelled Holly's gold fever.
'Artemis, give it up. No human has ever succeeded in keeping fairy gold. And they've been trying for centuries. The LEP will do anything to protect their property.'
Artemis shook his head. Amused.
'I've told you…'
Holly took him by the shoulders. 'You cannot escape! Don't you understand?'
The boy returned her gaze coolly.
'I can escape, Holly. Look in my eyes and tell me that I can't.'
So she did. Captain Holly Short gazed into her captor's blue-black eyes and she saw the truth in there. And for a moment she believed it.
'There's still time,' she said desperately. 'There must be something. I have magic.'
A crease of annoyance wrinkled the boy's brow.
'I hate to disappoint you, Captain, but there is absolutely nothing.'
Artemis paused, his gaze tugged momentarily upstairs to the converted loft. Perhaps, he thought. Do I really need all this gold? And was his conscience not pricking him, leeching the sweetness from his victory? He shook himself. Stick to the plan. Stick to the plan. No emotion.
Artemis felt a familiar hand on his shoulder.
'Everything all right?'
'Yes, Butler. Keep unloading. Get Juliet to help. I need to talk to Captain Short.'
'Are you sure there's nothing wrong?'
Artemis sighed. 'No, old friend, I'm not sure. But it's too late now.'
Butler nodded, returning to his task. Juliet toddled along behind him like a terrier.
'Now, Captain. About your magic.'
'What about it?' Holly's eyes were hooded with suspicion.
'What would I have to do to buy a wish?'
Holly glanced at the trolley. 'Well, that depends. What do you have to bargain with?'
Root was not what you'd call relaxed. Increasingly wide bands of yellow light were poking through the blue. Minutes left. Minutes. His migraine was not helped by the pungent cigar feeding toxins into his system.
'Have all non-essential personnel been evacuated?'
'Unless they've sneaked back in since the last time you asked me.'
'Not now, Foaly. Believe me, now is not the time. Anything from Captain Short?'
'Nope. We lost video after the troll thing. I'd guess the battery is ruptured. We'd better get that helmet off her ASAP, or the radiation will fry her brain. That'd be a pity after all this work.'
Foaly returned to his console. A red light began pulsing gently.
'Wait, motion sensor. We've got activity by the main entrance.'
Root crossed to the screens.
'Can you enhance it?'
'No problem.' Foaly punched in the coordinates, blowing it up 400 per cent.
Root sat down on the nearest chair.
'Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing?'
'You sure are.' Foaly chuckled. 'This is even better than the suit of armour.'
Holly was coming out. With the gold.
Retrieval were on her in half a second.
'Let's get you out of the danger zone, Captain,' urged a sprite, catching Holly by the elbow.
Another ran a rad-sensor over her helmet.
'We've got a power source breach here, Captain. We need to get your head sprayed immediately.'
Holly opened her mouth to protest, and had it instantly filled with rad-suppressant foam.
'Can't this wait?' she spluttered.
'Sorry, Captain. Time is of the essence. The commander wants a debriefing before we detonate.'
Holly was rushed towards the Mobile Ops unit, her feet barely touching the ground. All around her Retrieval Cleaners scanned the grounds for any trace of the siege. Techies dismantled the field dishes, making ready to pull the plug. Grunts steered the trolley towards the portal. It was imperative that everything be relocated to a safe distance before the bio-bomb went in. Root was waiting on the steps.
'Holly,' he blurted. 'I mean Captain. You made it.'
'Yessir. Thank you, sir.'
'And the gold too. This is a real feather in your cap.'
'Well, not all, Commander. About half I think.'
Root nodded. 'No matter. We'll have the rest soon enough.'
Holly wiped rad-foam from her brow.
'I've been thinking about that, sir. Fowl made another mistake.
He never ordered me not to re-enter the house, and seeing as he brought me in there in the first place, the invitation still stands. I could go in and mind-wipe the occupants. We could hide the gold in the walls and do another time-stop tomorrow night…'
'No, Captain.'
'But, sir…'
Root's features regained whatever tension they'd lost.
'No, Captain. The Council is not about to hold off for some kidnapping Mud Man. It's just not going to happen. I have my orders, and believe me they're written in stone.'
Holly trailed Root into the mobile.
'But the girl, sir. She's an innocent!'
'Casualty of war. She threw her lot in with the wrong side.
Nothing can be done for her now.'
Holly was incredulous. 'A casualty of war? How can you say that?
A life is a life.'
Root spun sharply, grasping her by the shoulders.
'You did what you could, Holly,' he said. 'No one could have done more. You even retrieved most of the ransom. You're suffering from what humans call Stockholm Syndrome: you have bonded with your captors. Don't worry, it will pass. But those people in there, they know. About us. Nothing can save them now.'
Foaly looked up from his calculations.
'Not true. Technically. Welcome back, by the way.'
Holly couldn't spare even a second to return the greeting.
'What do you mean not true?'
'I'm fine, seeing as you asked.'
'Foaly!' shouted Root and Holly in unison.
'Well, like the Book says, "If the Mud Man gold can gather, In spite of magick or fairy glamour, Then that gold is his to keep, Until he lies in eternal sleep." So if he lives, he wins. It's that simple. Not even the Council will go against the Book.'
Root scratched his chin. 'Should I be worried?'
Foaly laughed mirthlessly. 'No. Those guys are as good as dead.'
'As good as isn't good enough.'
'Is that an order?'
'Affirmative, soldier.'
'I'm not a soldier,' said Foaly, and pressed the button.
Butler was more than a little surprised.
'You gave it back?'
Artemis nodded.
'About half. We still have quite a nest egg. About fifteen million dollars at today's market prices.'
Butler usually wouldn't ask. But this time he had to.
'Why, Artemis? Can you tell me?'
'I suppose so.' The boy smiled. 'I felt we owed the captain something. For services rendered.'
'Is that all?'
Artemis nodded. No need to talk about the wish. It could be perceived as weakness.
'Hmm,' said Butler, smarter than he looked.
'Now, we should celebrate,' enthused Artemis, deftly changing the subject. 'Some champagne, I think.'
The boy strode to the kitchen before Butler's gaze could dissect him.
By the time the others caught up, Artemis had already filled three glasses with Dom Perignon.
'I'm a minor, I know, but I'm sure Mother wouldn't mind. Just this once.'
Butler felt that something was afoot. Nevertheless, he took the crystal flute offered to him.
Juliet looked at her big brother.
'Is this OK?'
'I suppose so.' He took a breath. 'You know I love you, don't you, sis?'
Juliet scowled — something else that the local louts found very endearing. She smacked her brother on the shoulder.
'You're so emotional for a bodyguard.'
Butler looked his employer straight in the eye.
'You want us to drink this, don't you, Artemis?'
Artemis met his gaze squarely.
'Yes, Butler. I do.'
Without another word Butler drained his glass, Juliet followed suit. The manservant tasted the tranquillizer immediately, and although he would have had ample time to snap Artemis Fowl's neck, he didn't. No need for Juliet to be distressed in her final moments.
Artemis watched his friends sink to the floor. A pity to deceive them. But if they had been alerted to the plan, their anxiety could have counteracted the sedative. He gazed at the bubbles swirling in his own glass. Time for the most audacious step in his scheme. With only the barest hint of hesitation, he swallowed the tranquillizer-laced champagne.
Artemis waited calmly for the drug to take hold of his system. He didn't have to wait long, for each dose had been calculated according to body weight. As his thoughts began to swirl, it occurred to him that he might never awaken again. It's a bit late for doubts, he chided himself, and sank into unconsciousness.
'She's away,' said Foaly, leaning back from the console. 'It's out of my hands now.'
They followed the missile's progress through polarized windows.
It really was a remarkable piece of equipment. Because its main weapon was light, the fallout could be focused to an exact radius. The radioactive element used in the core was solinium 2, which had a half-life of fourteen seconds. This effectively meant that Foaly could tune the bio-bomb to blue-rinse only Fowl Manor and not one blade of grass more, plus the building would be radiation-free in under a minute. In the event that a few solinium flares refused to be focused, they would be contained by the time-field. Murder made easy.
'The flight path is pre-programmed,' explained Foaly, though no one was paying a blind bit of attention. 'She'll sail into the lobby and detonate. The casing and firing mechanism are plastic alloy and will completely disintegrate. Clean as a whistle.'
Root and Holly followed the bomb's arc. As predicted, it swooped through the decimated doorway without knocking so much as a sliver of stone from the medieval walls. Holly switched her attention to the missile's nose-cam. For a moment she caught a glimpse of the grand hallway where she had, until recently, been a prisoner. It was empty. Not a human in sight. Maybe, she thought.
Just maybe. Then she looked at Foaly and the technology at his fingertips. And she realized that the humans were as good as dead.
The bio-bomb detonated. A blue orb of condensed light crackled and spread, filling every corner of the manor with its deadly rays.
Flowers withered, insects shrivelled and fish died in their tanks. Not one cubic millimetre was spared. Artemis Fowl and his cohorts could not have escaped. It was impossible.
Holly sighed, turning away from the already dwindling blue-rinse. For all his grand designs, Artemis had been a mere mortal in the end. And for some reason she mourned his passing.
Root was more pragmatic.
'OK. Suit up. Full blackout gear.'
'It's perfectly safe,' said Foaly. 'Didn't you ever listen in school?'
The commander snorted.
'I trust science about as far as I could throw you, Foaly. Radiation has a habit of hanging around when certain scientists have assured us it has dissipated. No one steps outside the unit without blackout gear. So that counts you out, Foaly. Only bipedal suits. Anyway I want you on monitors, just in case…'
In case of what? wondered Foaly, but he didn't comment. Save it for an I told you so later.
Root turned to Holly.
'Are you ready, Captain?'
Going back in. The idea of identifying three cadavers didn't appeal to Holly. But she knew it was her duty. She was the only one with first-hand knowledge of the interior.
'Yessir. On my way.'
Holly selected a blackout suit from the rack, pulling it on over her jumpsuit. As per training, she checked the gauge before tugging the vulcanized cowl. A dip in pressure would indicate a rip, which could prove fatal in the long term.
Root lined up the insertion team at the perimeter. The remains of Retrieval One were about as eager to insert themselves into the manor as they would be to juggle Atlantean stink balloons.
'You're certain the big one is gone?'
'Yes, Captain Kelp. He's gone, one way or another.'
Trouble wasn't convinced. 'Because that's one mean human. I think he has magic of his own.'
Corporal Grub giggled, and got an immediate clip on the ear for himself. He muttered something about telling Mummy and quickly strapped on his helmet.
Root felt his complexion redden.
'Let's move out. Your mission is to locate and recover the bullion. Watch for booby traps. I didn't trust Fowl when he was alive, and I definitely don't trust him now that he's dead.'
The phrase 'booby traps' got everyone's attention. The idea of a Bouncing Betty anti-personnel mine exploding at head height was enough to dispel any nonchalance in the troops. No one built weapons of cruelty like the Mud Men.
As the junior Recon officer, Holly was on point. And even though there weren't supposed to be any hostiles in the manor, she found her gun hand automatically straying to the Neutrino 2000.
The mansion was eerily quiet, with only the fizzle of the last few solinium flares to alleviate the stillness. Death was there too, in the silence. The manor was a cradle of death. Holly could smell it. Behind those medieval walls lay the bodies of a million insects, and under its floors the cooling corpses of spiders and mice.
They approached the doorway tentatively. Holly swept the area with an X-ray scanner. Nothing under the flagstones but dirt, and a nest of dead money-spiders.
'Clear,' she said into her microphone. 'I'm going in. Foaly, have you got your ears on?'
'I'm right there with you, darlin',' replied the centaur. 'Unless you step on a landmine, in which case I'm way back in the Operations Room.'
'Are you getting any thermals?'
'Not after a blue-rinse. We have
residual heat signatures all over the place. Mostly solinium flares. It won't calm down for a couple of days.'
'But no radiation, right?'
'That's right.'
Root snorted in disbelief. Over the headsets it sounded like an elephant sneezing.
'It looks like we're going to have to sweep this house the old-fashioned way,' he grumbled.
'Make it quick,' advised Foaly.
'I give it five minutes tops before Fowl Manor rejoins the world at large.'
Holly stepped through what used to be the doorway. The chandelier swung gently from the concussive force of the missile's detonation, but otherwise everything was as she remembered it.
'The gold is downstairs. In my cell.'
Nobody answered. Not in words. Someone did manage a retch.
Right into the microphone. Holly spun around. Trouble was doubled over, clutching his stomach.
'I don' feel so good,' he groaned. A tad unnecessarily, considering the pool of vomit all over his boots.
Corporal Grub took a breath, possibly to utter a sentence containing the word Mummy. What came out was a jet of concentrated bile. Unfortunately Grub didn't have the opportunity to open his visor before the illness struck. It was not a pretty sight.
'Ugh,' said Holly, pressing the corporal's visor-release button. A tsunami of regurgitated rations flooded over Grub's blackout suit.
'Oh, for heaven's sake,' muttered Root, elbowing past the brothers. He didn't get very far. One step over the threshold and he was throwing up with the rest of them.
Holly pointed her helmet-cam at the stricken officers.
'What the hell is going on here, Foaly?'
Tm searching. Hold on.'
Holly could hear computer keys being punched furiously.
'OK. Sudden vomiting. Spatial nausea… Oh no.'
'What?' asked Holly. But she already knew. Maybe she always had.
'It's the magic,' blurted Foaly, words barely decipherable in his excitement. 'They can't enter the house until Fowl is dead. It's like an extreme allergic reaction. That means, unbelievable, that means…'
'They made it,' completed Holly. 'He's alive. Artemis Fowl is alive.'
'D'Arvit,' groaned Root, and heaved another quart of vomit on to the terracotta tiles.
Holly went on alone. She had to see for herself. If Fowl's corpse was here, it would be with the gold, of that she was certain.
The same family portraits glared down at her, but now they seemed smug rather than austere. Holly was tempted to loose a few blasts into them from the Neutrino 2000. But that would be against the rules. If Artemis Fowl had beaten them, then that was it. There would be no recriminations.