Artemis Fowl af-1

by Eoin Colfer

  She descended the stairway to her cell. The door was still swinging slightly from the bio-bomb concussion. A solinium flare ricocheted around the room like a trapped bolt of blue lightning. Holly stepped inside, half-afraid of what she might or might not see.

  There was nothing. Nothing dead at any rate. Just gold. Two hundred ingots approximately. Piled on the mattress of her cot. Nice neat military rows. Good old Butler, the only human ever to take on a troll and win.

  'Commander? Are you receiving? Over.'

  'Affirmative, Captain. Body count?'

  'Negative on the bodies, sir. I found the rest of the ransom.'

  There was along silence.

  'Leave it, Holly. You know the rules. We're pulling out.'

  'But, sir. There must be a way…"

  Foaly broke in on the conversation. 'But nothing, Captain. I'm counting down the seconds until daylight here, and I don't like our odds if we have to exit at high noon.

  Holly sighed. It made sense. The People could chose their exit time, as long as they left before the field disintegrated. It just galled her to think they'd been beaten by a human. An adolescent human at that.

  She took a last look around the cell. A big ball of hatred had been born here, she realized, and it would have to be dealt with sooner or later. Holly jammed her pistol back into its holster. Preferably sooner.

  Fowl was the winner this time, but someone like him wouldn't be able to rest on his laurels. He would be back with some other moneymaking scheme. And when he arrived, he would find Holly Short waiting for him. Waiting with a big gun and a smile.

  The ground was soft by the time-stop perimeter. Half a millennium's bad drainage from the medieval walls had transformed the foundations into a virtual bog. So that was where Mulch surfaced.

  The soft ground wasn't the only reason for choosing that exact spot. The other reason was the smell. A good tunnel dwarf can pick up the scent of gold through half a kilometre of granite bedrock. Mulch Diggums had one of the best noses in the business.

  The hover trolley floated virtually unguarded. Two of Retrieval's finest were stationed beside the recovered ransom, but at the moment they were having a little giggle at their stricken commander.

  ''E can't half chuck it, can't 'e, Chix?'

  Chix nodded, mimicking Root's spewing technique.

  Chix Verbil's pantomime antics provided the perfect cover for a spot of pilfering. Mulch gave his tubes a clearing before clambering from the tunnel. The last thing he needed was for a sudden burst of 259gas to alert the LEP to his presence. He needn't have worried. He could have slapped Chix Verbil in the face with a wet stink-worm and the sprite wouldn't have noticed.

  In a matter of seconds, he had transferred two dozen ingots into the tunnel. It was the easiest job he had ever pulled. Mulch had to stifle a giggle as he dropped the last two bars down the hole. Julius had really done him a favour, getting him involved in this whole affair.

  Things couldn't have worked out much better. He was free as a bird, rich and, best of all, presumed dead. By the time the LEP realized that the gold was missing, Mulch Diggums would be half a continent away.

  If they realized at all.

  The dwarf lowered himself into the ground. It would take several trips to move his treasure trove, but it would be worth the delay. With this kind of money, he could take early retirement. He would have to completely disappear of course, but a plan was already forming in his devious mind.

  He would live above ground for a spell. Masquerade as a human dwarf, with an aversion to light. Perhaps buy a penthouse with thick blinds. In Manhattan perhaps, or Monte Carlo. It might seem odd, of course, a dwarf shutting himself away from the sun. But then again, he would be an obscenely rich dwarf. And humans will accept any story, however outlandish, when there's something in it for them. Preferably something green that folds.

  Artemis could hear a voice calling his name. There was a face behind the voice, but it was blurred, hard to make out. His father perhaps?

  'Father?' The word was strange in his mouth. Unused. Rusty.

  Artemis opened his eyes.

  Butler was leaning over him.

  'Artemis. You 're awake.'

  'Ah, Butler. It's you.'

  Artemis got to his feet, head spinning with the effort. He expected Butler's hand at his elbow to steady him. It didn't come.

  Juliet was lying on a chaise longue, dribbling on to the cushions.

  Obviously the draft hadn't worn off yet.

  'It was just sleeping pills, Butler. Harmless.'

  The manservant's eyes had a dangerous glint. 'Explain yourself.'

  Artemis rubbed his eyes. 'Later, Butler. I'm feeling a bit-'

  Butler stepped into his path.

  'Artemis, my sister is lying drugged on that couch. She was almost killed. So explain yourself now!'

  Artemis realized that he'd been given an order. He considered being offended, then decided that perhaps Butler was right. He had gone too far.

  'I didn't tell you about the sleeping pills because you'd fight them. It's only natural. And it was imperative to the plan that we all go to sleep immediately.'

  'The plan?'

  Artemis lowered himself into a comfortable chair.

  'The time-field was the key to this whole affair. It's the LEP's ace in the hole. It's what has made them unbeatable for all these years.

  Any incident can be contained. That and the bio-bomb make a formidable combination.'

  'So why did we have to be drugged?'

  Artemis smiled. 'Look out of the window. Don't you see? They're gone. It's over.'

  Butler glanced through the net curtains. The light was bright and clear. Not a hint of blue. Nevertheless, the manservant was unimpressed.

  'They're gone for now. They'll be back tonight, I guarantee it.'

  'No. That's against the rules. We beat them. That's it, game over.'

  Butler raised an eyebrow. 'The sleeping pills, Artemis?'

  'Not to be distracted, I see.'

  Butler's answer was an implacable silence.

  'The sleeping pills. Very well. I had to think of a way to escape the time-field. I trawled through the Book, but there was nothing. Not a clue. The People themselves have not yet developed a way. So I went back to their Old Testament, back to when their lives and ours were intertwined. You know the stories: elves that made shoes during the night, sprites that cleaned houses. Back when we coexisted to a certain extent. Magical favours in exchange for their fairy forts. The big one, of course, was Santa Claus.'

  Butler's eyebrows nearly jumped off the front of his face.

  'Santa Claus?'

  Artemis raised his palms. 'I know, I know. I was a tad sceptical myself. But apparently our little corporate-image Santa Claus is not descended from a Turkish saint, he is a shadow of San D'Klass, the third king of the Frond Elfin dynasty. He is known as San the Deluded.'

  'Not a great title, as titles go.'

  'Admittedly. D'Klass thought that the greed of the Mud People in his kingdom could be assuaged by distributing lavish gifts. He would marshal all the great wizards once a year and have them throw up a great time-stop over vast regions. Flocks of sprites would be sent out to deliver the presents while the humans were asleep. Of course, it didn't work. Human greed can never be assuaged, especially not by gifts.'

  Butler frowned. 'What if the humans… we, that is… What if we had woken up?'

  'Ah yes. Excellent question. The heart of the matter. We wouldn't wake up. That is the nature of the time-stop. Whatever your state of consciousness going in, that's how you stay. You can neither wake up nor fall asleep. You must have noticed the fatigue in your bones these last few hours, yet your mind would not let you sleep.'

  Butler nodded. Things were getting clearer, in a roundabout sort of way.

  'So my theory was that the only way to escape the time-field was to simply fall asleep. Our own consciousness was all that kept us imprisoned.'

  'You risked an awful lot
on a theory, Artemis.'

  'Not just a theory. We did have a test subject.'

  'Who? Ah, Angeline.'

  'Yes. My mother. Because of her narcotic-induced slumber, she moved with the natural order of time, unhindered by the time-field. If she had not, I would have simply surrendered to the LEP and submitted to their mind wipe.'

  Butler snorted. He doubted it.

  'So, because we could not fall asleep naturally, I simply administered us all a dose of Mother's pills. Simple.'

  'You cut it pretty fine though. Another minute…'

  'Agreed.' The boy nodded. 'Things were tense there at the end. It was necessary in order to double-bluff the LEP.'

  He paused so that Butler could process the information.

  'Well, am I forgiven?'

  Butler sighed. On the chaise lounge, Juliet snored like a drunken sailor. He smiled suddenly.

  'Yes, Artemis. All is forgiven. Just one thing…'

  'Yes?'

  'Never again. Fairies are too… human.'

  'You're right,' said Artemis, the crow's feet deepening around his eyes. 'Never again. We shall restrict ourselves to more tasteful ventures in the future. Legal, I can't promise.'

  Butler nodded. It was close enough.

  'Now, young Master, shouldn't we check on your mother?'

  Artemis grew paler, if that were possible. Could the captain have reneged on her promise? She would certainly be entitled to.

  'Yes. I suppose we should. Let Juliet rest. She's earned it.'

  He cast his eyes upwards, along the stairs. It had been too much to hope for that he could trust the fairy. After all, he had held her captive against her will. He berated himself silently. Imagine parting with all those millions for the promise of a wish. Oh, the gullibility.

  Then the loft door opened.

  Butler drew his weapon instantly.

  'Artemis, behind me. Intruders.'

  The boy waved him away. 'No, Butler. I don't think so.'

  His heart pounded in his ears, blood pulsed in his fingertips.

  Could it be? Could it possibly be? A figure appeared on the stairs.

  Wraith-like in a towelled robe, her hair wet from the shower.

  'Arty?' she called. 'Arty, are you there?'

  Artemis wanted to answer, he wanted to race up the grand stairway, arms outstretched. But he couldn't. His cerebral functions had deserted him.

  Angeline Fowl descended, one hand resting lightly on the banister. Artemis had forgotten how graceful his mother was. Her bare feet skipped over the carpeted steps and soon she was standing before him.

  'Morning, darling,' she said brightly, as though it were just another day.

  'M-Mother,' stammered Artemis.

  'Well, give me a hug.'

  Artemis stepped into his mother's embrace. It was warm and strong. She was wearing perfume. He felt like the boy he was.

  'I'm sorry, Arty,' she whispered into his ear.

  'Sorry for what?'

  'For everything. For the last few months, I haven't been myself. But things are going to change. Time to stop living in the past.'

  Artemis felt a tear on his cheek. He wasn't sure whose tear it was.

  'And I don't have a present for you.'

  'A present?' said Artemis.

  'Of course,' sang his mother, spinning him around. 'Don't you know what day it is?'

  'Day?'

  'It's Christmas Day, you silly boy. Christmas Day! Presents are traditional, are they not?'

  Yes, thought Artemis. Traditional. San D'Klass.

  'And look at this place. Drab as a mausoleum. Butler?'

  The manservant hurriedly pocketed his Sig Sauer.

  'Yes, ma'am?'

  'Get on the phone to Brown Thomas. The platinum set number.

  Reopen my account. Tell Helene I want a Yuletide makeover. The,works.'

  'Yes, ma'am. The works.'

  'Oh, and wake up Juliet. I want my things moved into the main bedroom. That attic is far too dusty.'

  'Yes, ma'am. Right away, ma'am.'

  Angeline Fowl linked her son's arm.

  'Now, Arty, I want to know everything. First of all, what happened here?'

  'Remodelling,' said Artemis. 'The old doorway was riddled with damp.'

  Angeline frowned, completely unconvinced.

  'I see. And how about school? Have you decided on a career?'

  While his mouth answered these everyday questions, Artemis's mind was in turmoil. He was a boy again. His life was going to change utterly. His plans would have to be much more devious than usual if they were to escape his mother's attention. But it would be worth it.

  Angeline Fowl was wrong. She had brought him a Christmas present.

  Epilogue

  Now that you have reviewed the case file, you must realize what a dangerous creature this Fowl is.

  There is a tendency to romanticize Artemis. To attribute to him qualities that he does not possess. The fact that he used his wish to heal his mother is not a sign of affection. He did it simply because the Social Services were already investigating his case, and it was only a matter of time before he was put into care.

  He kept the existence of the People quiet only so that he could continue to exploit them over the years, which he did on several occasions. His one mistake was leaving Captain Short alive. Holly became the LEP's foremost expert in the Artemis Fowl cases, and was invaluable in the fight against the People's most feared enemy. This fight was to continue across several decades.

  Ironically, the greatest triumph for both protagonists was the time they were forced to cooperate during the goblin insurgence. But that's another story.

  Report compiled by: Doctor J. Argon, B.Psych, for the LEP Academy files.

  Details are 94 per cent accurate, 6 per cent unavoidable extrapolation.

  2001 year

  FB2 document info

  Document ID: c906df4a-c87b-4c72-b646-a7727b526ae2

  Document version: 1.01

  Document creation date: 18 June 2010

  Created using: FB Editor v2.0 software

  Document authors :

  melomory

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