the glimpse of the moon

oil filter

2009-04-11T00:48:00.000-07:00

An oil filter is a filter to remove contaminants from engine oil, transmission oil, lubricating oil, or hydraulic oil. Oil filters are used in many different types of hydraulic machinery. A chief use of the oil filter is in internal-combustion engines in on- and off-road motor vehicles, light aircraft, and various naval vessels. Other vehicle hydraulic systems, such as those in automatic transmissions and power steering, are often equipped with an oil filter. Gas turbine engines, such as those on jet aircraft, require the use of oil filters. And oil production, transport, and recycling facilities employ filters.

Types of oil filter

Mechanical designs employ an element made of pleated filter media to entrap and sequester suspended contaminants. As material builds up on the filtration media, oil flow is progressively restricted. This requires periodic replacement of the filter element (or the entire filter, if the element is not separately replaceable).

Cartridge and spin-on Replacement oil filter element for a Volvo S40Early engine oil filters were of cartridge (or replaceable element) construction, in which a permanent housing contains a replaceable filter element or cartridge. The housing is mounted either directly on the engine or remotely with supply and return pipes connecting it to the engine. In the mid-1950s, the spin-on oil filter design was introduced: a self-contained housing and element assembly which was to be unscrewed from its mount, discarded, and replaced with a new one. This made filter changes more convenient and potentially less messy, and quickly came to be the dominant type of oil filter installed by the world's automakers. Conversion kits were offered for vehicles originally equipped with cartridge-type filters. In the 1990s, European and Asian automakers in particular began to shift back in favor of replaceable-element filter construction, because it generates less waste with each filter change. American automakers have likewise begun to shift to replaceable-cartridge filters, and retrofit kits to convert from spin-on to cartridge-type filters are offered for popular applications. Commercially available automotive oil filters vary in their design, materials, and construction details. These variables affect the efficacy, durability, and cost of the filter.

Magnetic filters use a permanent magnet or an electromagnet to capture ferromagnetic particles. An advantage of magnetic filtration is that maintaining the filter simply requires cleaning the particles from the surface of the magnet. Automatic transmissions in vehicles frequently have a magnet in the fluid pan to sequester magnetic particles and prolong the life of the media-type fluid filter.
Sedimentation

A sedimentation or gravity bed filter allows contaminants heavier than oil to settle to the bottom of a container under the influence of gravity.

Centrifugal

A centrifugal oil cleaner is a rotary sedimentation device using centrifugal force rather than gravity to separate contaminants from the oil, in the same manner as any other centrifuge. Pressurized oil enters the center of the housing and passes into a drum rotor free to spin on a bearing and seal. The rotor has two jet nozzles arranged to direct a stream of oil at the inner housing to rotate the drum. The oil then slides to the bottom of the housing wall, leaving particulate oil contaminants stuck to the housing walls. The housing must periodically be cleaned, or the particles will accumulate to such a thickness as to stop the drum rotating. In this condition, unfiltered oil will be recirculated.

Expanded metal grating

2009-03-26T01:35:00.000-07:00

Zhengyang offer many advantages over bar grating. It is made of one continuous piece of material yielding a greater strength to weight ratio. There are no welded parts and the surface is naturally skid proof without further processing. The pattern and openings provides a wider range of load capacity gratings to meet your exact requirements giving greater economy to your project. Expanded metal grating is the most practical and economical way to assure strength, safety, and a non-skid surface, .Expanded metal grating is ideal for use on plant runways, working platforms, and catwalks as it is easily cut into irregular shapes and can be installed quickly by welding or bolting. All of expanded metal gratings offer ease of fabrication, economy, strength, safety and are available in carbon steel , stainless steel and aluminum .

Decline and Fall(8)The sports

2009-01-05T17:55:00.000-08:00

CHAPTER VIII The sports

HAPPILY enough, it did not rain next day, and after morning school everybody dressed up to the nines. Dr Fagan appeared in a pale grey morning coat and sponge-bag trousers, looking more than ever jeune premier; there was a spring in his step and a pronounced sprightliness of bearing that Paul had not observed before. Flossie wore a violet frock of knitted wool made for her during the preceding autumn by her sister. It was the colour of indelible ink on blotting paper, Decorative wire mesh,and was ornamented at the waist with flowers of emerald green and pink. Her hat, also Home made, was the outcome of many winter evenings of ungrudged labour. All the trimmings of all her previous hats had gone to its adornment. Dingy wore a little steel brooch made in the shape of a bull dog. Grimes wore a stiff evening collar of celluloid.
'Had to do something to celebrate the occasion,' he said, 'so I put on a "choker". Phew, though, it's tight. Have you seen my fiancée's latest creation? Ascot ain't in it. Let's get down to Mrs Roberts for a quick one before the happy throng rolls up.'
'I wish I could, but I've got to go round the ground with the Doctor.'
'Righto, old boy! See you later. Here comes Prendy in his coat of many colours.'
Mr Prendergast wore a blazer of faded stripes, which smelt strongly of camphor.
'I think Dr Fagan encourages a certain amount of display on these occasions,' he said. 'I used to keep wicket for my college, you know, but I was too short sighted to bc much good. Still, I am entitled to the blazer,' he said with a note of defiance in his voice, 'and it is more appropriate to a sporting occasion than a stiff collar.'
'Good old Prendy!' said Grimes. 'Nothing like a change of clothes to bring out latent pep. I felt like that my first week in khaki. Well, so long. Me for Mrs Roberts. Why don't you come too, Prendy?'
'D'you know,' said Mr Prendergast, 'I think I will.'
Paul watched them disappear down the drive in amazement. Then he went off to find the Doctor.
'Frankly,' said the Doctor, 'I am at a loss to understand my own emotions. I can think of no entertainment that fills me with greater detestation than a display of competitive athletics, none except possibly folk dancing. If there are two women in the world whose company I abominate and there are very many more than two - they are Mrs Beste Chetwynde and Lady Circumference. I have, moreover, Decorative wire mesh,had an extremely difficult encounter with my butler, who will you believe it? waited at luncheon in a mustard coloured suit of plus fours and a diamond tie pin, and when I reprimanded him, attempted to tell me some ridiculous story about his being the proprietor of a circus or swimming bath or some such concern. And yet,' said the Doctor, 'I am filled with a wholly delightful exhilaration. I can't understand it. It is not as though this was the first occasion of the kind. During the fourteen years that I have been at Llanabba there have been six sports days and two concerts, all of them, in one way or another, utterly disastrous. Once Lady Bunyan was taken ill; another time it was the matter of the press photographers and the obstacle race; another time some quite unimportant parents brought a dog with them which bit two of the boys very severely and one of the masters, who swore terribly in front of everyone. I could hardly blame him, but of course he had to go. Then there was the concert when the boys refused to sing "God Save the King" because of the pudding they had had for luncheon. One way and another, I have been consistently unfortunate in my efforts at festivity. And yet I look forward to each new fiasco with the utmost relish. Perhaps, Pennyfeather, you will bring luck to Llanabba; in fact, I feel confident you have already done so. Look at the sun!'
Picking their way carefully among the dry patches in the waterlogged drive, they reached the playing fields. Here the haphazard organization of the last twenty four hours seemed to have been fairly successful. A large marquee was already in position, and Philbrick still in plus fours and three gardeners were at work putting up a smaller tent.
'That's for the Llanabba Silver Band,' said the Doctor. 'Philbrick, I required you to take off those loathsome garments.'
'They were new when I bought them,' said Philbrick, 'and they cost eight pounds firteen. Anyhow, I can't do two things at once, can I? If I go back to change, who's going to manage all this, I'd like to know?'
'All right! Finish what you are doing first. Let us just review the arrangements. The marquee is for the visitors' tea. That is Diana's province. I expect we shall find her at work.'
Sure enough, there was Dingy helping two servants to arrange plates of highly coloured cakes down a trestle table. Two other servants in the background were cutting sandwiches. Dingy, too, was obviously enjoying herself.
'Jane, Emily, remember that that butter has to do for three loaves. Spread it thoroughly, but don't waste it, and cut the crusts as thin as possible. Father, will you see to it that the boys who come in with their parents come in alone? You remember last time how Briggs brought in four boys with him, Decorative wire mesh,and they ate all the jam sandwiches before Colonel Loder had had any. Mr Pennyfeather, the champagne cup is not for the masters. In fact, I expect you will find yourselves too much occupied helping the visitors to have any tea until they have left the tent. You had better tell Captain Grimes that, too. I am sure Mr Prendergast would not think of pushing himself forward.'
Outside the marquee were assembled several seats and tubs of palms and flowering shrubs. 'All this must be set in order,' said the Doctor; 'our guests may arrive in less than an hour.' He passed on. 'The cars shall turn aside from the drive here and come right into the ground. It will give a pleasant background to the photographs, and, Pennyfeather, if you would with tact direct the photographer so that more prominence was given to Mrs Beste Chetwynde's Hispano Suiza than to Lady Circumference's little motor car, I think it would be all to the good. All these things count, you know.'
'Nothing seems to have been done about marking out the ground,' said Paul.
'No,' said the Doctor, turning his attention to the field for the first time, 'nothing. Well, you must do the best you can. They can't do everything.'
'I wonder if any hurdles have come?'
'They were ordered,' said the Doctor. 'I am certain of it. Philbrick, have any hurdles come?'
'Yes,' said Philbrick with a low chuckle.
'Why, pray, do you laugh at the mention of hurdles?'
'Just you look at them!' said Philbrick. 'They're behind the tea house there.'
Paul and the Doctor went to look and found a pile of spiked iron railings in sections heaped up at the back of the marquee. They were each about five feet high and were painted green with gilt spikes.
'It seems to me that they have sent the wrong sort,' said the Doctor.
'Yes.'
'Well, we must do the best we can. What other things ought there to be?'
'Weight, harmner, javelin, long-jump pit, high-jump posts, low hurdles, eggs, spoons, and greasy pole,' said Philbrick.
'Previous!y competed for,' said the Doctor imperturbably. 'What else?'
'Somewhere to run,' suggested Paul.
'Why, God bless my soul, they've got the whole park! How did you manage yesterday for the heats?'
'We judged the distance by eye.'
'Then that is what we shall have to do to day. Really, my dear Pennyfeather Decorative wire mesh, it is quite unlike you to fabricate difficulties in this way. I am afraid you are getting unnerved. Let them go on racing until it is time for tea; and remember,' he added sagely, 'the longer the race the more time it takes. I leave the details to you. I am concerned with style. I wish, for instance, we had a starting pistol.'
'Would this be any use?' said Philbrick, producing an enormous service revolver. 'Only take care; it's loaded.'
'The very thing,' said the Doctor. 'Only fire into the ground, mind. We must do everything we can to avoid an accident. Do you always carry that about with you?'
'Only when I'm wearing my diamonds,' said Philbrick.
'Well, I hope that is not often. Good gracious! Who are these extraordinary looking people?'
Ten men of revolting appearance were approaching from the drive. They were low of brow, crafty of eye, and crooked of limb. They advanced huddled together with the loping tread of wolves, peering about them furtively as they came, as though in constant terror of ambush; they slavered at their mouths, which hung loosely over their receding chins, while each clutched under his apelike arm a burden of curious and unaccountable shape. On seeing the Doctor they halted and edged back, Decorative wire mesh,those behind squinting and moulting over their companions' shoulders.
'Crikey!' said Philbrick. 'Loonies! This is where I shoot.'
'I refuse to believe the evidence of my eyes,' said the Doctor. 'These creatures simply do not exist.'
After brief preliminary shuffling and nudging, an elderly man emerged from the back of the group. He had a rough black beard and wore on his uneven shoulders a druidical wreath of brass mistletoe berries.
'Why, it's my friend the stationmaster!' said Philbrick.
'We are the silver band the Lord bless and keep you,' said the stationmaster in one breath, 'the band that no one could beat whatever but two indeed in the Eisteddfod that for all North Wales was look you.'
'I see,' said the Doctor; 'I see. That's splendid. Well, will you please go into your tent, the little tent over there.'
'To march about you would not like us?' suggested the stationmaster; 'we have a fine yellow flag look you that embroidered for us was in silks.'
'No, no. Into the tent!'
The statiomnaster went back to consult with his fellow-musicians. There was a baying and growling and yapping as of the jungle at moonrise, and presently he came forward again with an obsequious, sidelong shuffle.
'Three pounds you pay us would you said indeed to at the sports play.'
'Yes, yes, that's right, three pounds. Into the tent!'
'Nothing whatever we can play without the money first,' said the stationmaster firmly.
'How would it be,' said Philbrick, 'if I gave him a clout on the ear?'
'No, no, I beg you to do nothing of the kind. You have not lived in Wales as long as I have.' He took a note case from his pocket, the sight of which seemed to galvanize the musicians into life; they crowded round, twitching and chattering. The Doctor took out three pound notes and gave them to the stationmaster. 'There you are, Davies!' he said. 'Now take your men into the tent. They are on no account to emerge until after tea; do you understand?'
The band slunk away, and Paul and the Doctor turned back towards the Castle.
'The Welsh character is an interesting study,' said Dr Fagan. 'I have often considered writing a little monograph on the subject, but I was afraid it might make me unpopular in the village. The ignorant speak of them as Celts, which is of course wholly erroneous. They are of pure Iberian stock the aboriginal inhabitants of Europe who survive only in Portugal and the Basque district. Celts readily intermarry with their neighbours and absorb them. From the earliest times the Welsh have been looked upon as an unclean people. It is thus that they have preserved their racial integrity. Their sons and daughters rarely mate with human-kind except their own blood relations. In Wales there was no need for legislation to prevent the conquering people intermarrying with the conquered. In Ireland that was necessary, for there intermarriage was a political matter. In Wales it was moral. I hope, by the way, Decorative wire mesh,you have no Welsh blood?'
'None whatever,' said Paul.
'I was sure you had not, but one cannot be too careful. I once spoke of this subject to the sixth form and learned later that one of them had a Welsh grandmother. I am afraid it hurt his feelings terribly, poor little chap. She came from Pembrokeshire, too, which is of course quite a different matter. I often think,' he continued, 'that we can trace almost all the disasters of English history to the influence of Wales. Think of Edward of Caernarvon, the first Prince of Wales, a perverse life, Pennyfeather, and an unseemly death, then the Tudors and the dissolution of the Church, then Lloyd George, the temperance movement, Noncomformity, and lust stalking hand in hand through the country, wasting and ravaging. But perhaps you think I exaggerate? I have a certain rhetorical tendency, I admit.'
'No, no,' said Paul.
'The Welsh,' said the Doctor, 'are the only nation in the world that has produced no graphic or plastic art, no architecture, no drama. They just sing,' he said with disgust, 'sing and blow down wind instruments of plated silver. They are deceitful because they cannot discern truth from falsehood, depraved because they cannot discern the consequences of their indulgence. Let us consider,' he continued, 'the etymological derivations of the Welsh language....'
But here he was interrupted by a breathless little boy who panted down the drive to meet them. 'Please, sir, Lord and Lady Circumference have arrived sir. They're in the library with Miss Florence. She asked me to tell you.'
'The sports will start in ten minutes,' said the Doctor. 'Run and tell the other boys to change and go at once to the playing fields. I will talk to you about the Welsh again. It is a matter to which I have given some thought, and I can see that you are sincerely interested. Come in with me and see the Circumferences.'Decorative wire mesh
Flossie was talking to them in the library.
'Yes, isn't it a sweet colour?' she was saying. 'I do like something bright myself. Diana made it for me; she does knit a treat, does Diana, but of course I chose the colour, you know, because, you see, Diana's taste is all for wishy-washy greys and browns. Mournful, you know. Well, here's the dad. Lady Circumference was just saying how much she likes my frock what you said was vulgar, so there!'
A stout elderly woman dressed in a tweed coat and skirt and jaunty Tyrolean hat advanced to the Doctor. 'Hullo!' she said in a deep bass voice, 'how are you? Sorry if we're late. Circumference ran over a fool of a boy. I've just been chaffing your daughter here about her frock. Wish I was young enough to wear that kind of thing. Older I get the more I like colour. We're both pretty long in the tooth, eh?' She gave Dr Fagan a hearty shake of the hand, that obviously caused him acute pain. Then she turned to Paul.
'So you're the Doctor's hired assassin, eh? Well, I hope you keep a firm hand on my toad of a son. How's he doin'?'
'Quite well,' said Paul.
'Nonsense!' said Lady Circumference. 'The boy's a dunderhead. If he wasn't he wouldn't be here. He wants beatin' and hittin' and knockin' about generally, and then he'll be no good. That grass is shockin' bad on the terrace, Doctor; you ought to sand it down and re sow it, but you'll have to take that cedar down if you ever want it to grow properly at the side. I hate cuttin' down a tree like losin' a tooth but you have to choose, tree or grass; you can't keep 'em both. What d'you pay your head man?'
As she was talking Lord Circumference emerged from the shadows and shook Paul's hand. He had a long fair moustache and large watery eyes which reminded Paul a little of Mr. Prendergast.
'How do you do?' he said.
'How do you do?' said Paul.
'Fond of sport, eh?' he said. 'I mean these sort of sports?'
'Oh, yes,' said Paul. 'I think they're so good for the boys.'
'Do you? Do you think that,' said Lord Circumference very earnestly: 'you think they're good for the boys?'
'Yes,' said Paul; 'don't you?'
'Me? Yes, oh yes. I think so, too. Very good for the boys.'
'So useful in the case of a war or anything,' said Paul.
'Do you think so? D'you really and truly think so? That there's going to be another war, I mean?'
'Yes, I'm sure of it; aren't you?'
'Yes, of course. I'm sure of it too. And that awful bread, and people coming on to one's own land and telling one what one's to do with one's own butter and milk, and commandeering one's horses! Oh, yes all over again! My wife shot her hunters rather than let them go to the army. And girls in breeches on all the farms! All over again! Who do you think it will be this time?'
'The Americans,' said Paul stoutly.
'No, indeed, I hope not. We had German prisoners on two of the farms. That wasn't so bad, but if they start putting Americans on my land, I'll just refilse to stand it. My daughter brought an American down to luncheon the other day, and, do you know...?'
'Dig it and dung it,' said Lady Circumference. 'Only it's got to be dug deep, mind. Now how did your calceolarias do last year?'
'I really have no idea,' said the Doctor. 'Flossie, how did our calceolarias do?'
'Lovely,' said Flossie.
'I don't believe a word of it,' said Lady Circumference. 'Nobody's calceolarias did well last year.'
'Shall we adjourn to the playing fields?' said the Doctor. 'I expect they are all waiting for us.'
Talking cheerfully, the party crossed the hall and went down the steps.
'Your drive's awful wet,' said Lady Circumference. 'I expect there's a blocked pipe somewhere. Sure it ain't sewage?'
'I was never any use at short distances,' Lord Circumference was saying. 'I was always a slow starter, but I was once eighteenth in the Crick at Rugby. We didn't take sports so seriously at the 'Varsity when I was up: everybody rode. What college were you at?'
'Scone.'
'Scone, were you? Ever come across a young nephew of my wife's called Alastair Digby-Vane-Trumpington?'
'I just met him,' said Paul.
'That's very interesting, Greta. Mr Pennyfoot knows Alastair.'
'Does he? Well, that boy's doing no good for himself. Got fined twenty pounds the other day, his mother told me. Seemed proud of it. If my brother had been alive he'd have licked all that out of the young cub. It takes a man to bring up a man.'
'Yes,' said Lord Circumference meekly.Decorative wire mesh
'Who else do you know at Oxford? Do you know Freddy French Wise?'
'No.'
'Or Tom Obblethwaite or that youngest Castleton boy?'
'No, I'm afraid not. I had a great friend called Potts.'
'Potts!' said Lady Circumference, and left it at that.
All the school and several local visitors were assembled in the field. Grimes stood by himself, looking depressed. Mr Prendergast, flushed and unusually vivacious, was talking to the Vicar. As the headmaster's party came into sight the Llanabba Silver Band struck up Men of Harlech.
'Shockin' noise,' commented Lady Circumference graciously.
The head prefect came forward and presented her with a programme, be ribboned and embossed in gold. Another prefect set a chair for her. She sat down with the Doctor next to her and Lord Circumference on the other side of him.
'Pennyfeather,' cried the Doctor above the band, 'start them racing.'
Philbrick gave Paul a megaphone. 'I found this in the pavilion,' he said. 'I thought it might be useful.'
'Who's that extraordinary man?' asked Lady Circumference.
'He is the boxing coach and swimming professional,' said the Doctor. 'A finely developed figure, don't you think?'
'First race,' said Paul through the megaphone, 'under sixteen. Quarter mile!' He read out Grimes's list of starters.
'What's Tangent doin' in this race?' said Lady Circumference. 'The boy can't run an inch.'
The silver band stopped playing.
'The course,' said Paul, 'starts from the pavilion, goes round that clump of elms...'
'Beeches,' corrected Lady Circumference loudly.
'... and ends in front of the bandstand. Starter, Mr Prendergast; timekeeper, Captain Grimes.'
'I shall say, "Are you ready? one, two, three!" and then fire,' said Mr Prendergast. 'Are you ready? One' -
there was a terrific report. 'Oh dear! I'm sorry' but the race had begun. Clearly Tangent was not going to win; he was sitting on the grass crying because he had been wounded in the foot by Mr Prendergast's bullet. Philbrick carried him, wailing dismally, into the refreshment tent, where Dingy helped him off with his shoe. His heel was slightly grazed. Dingy gave him a large slice of cake, and he hobbled out surrounded by a sympathetic crowd Decorative wire mesh.
'That won't hurt him,' said Lady Circumference, 'but I think someone ought to remove the pistol from that old man before he does anything serious.'
'I knew that was going to happen,' said Lord Circumference.
'A most unfortunate beginning,' said the Doctor.
'Am I going to die?' said Tangent, his mouth full of cake.
'For God's sake, look after Prendy,' said Grimes in Paul's ear. 'The man's as tight as a lord, and on one whisky, too.'
'First blood to me!' said Mr Prendergast gleefully.
'The last race will be run again,' said Paul down the megaphone. 'Starter, Mr Philbrick; timekeeper, Mr Prendergast.'
'On your marks! Get set.' Bang went the pistol, this time without disaster. The six little boys scampered off through the mud, disappeared behind the beeches and returned rather more slowly. Captain Grimes and Mr Prendergast held up a piece of tape.
'Well run, sirl' shouted Colonel Sidebotham. 'Jolly good race.'
'Capital,' said Mr Prendergast, and dropping his end of the tape, he sauntered over to the Colonel. 'I can see you are a fine judge of a race, sir. So was I once. So's Grimes. A capital fellow, Grimes; a bounder, you know, but a capital fellow. Bounders can be capital fellows; don't you agree, Colonel Slidebottom? In fact, I'd go further and say that capital fellows are bounders. What d'you say to that? I wish you'd stop pulling at my arm, Pennyfeather. Colonel Shybottom and I are just having a most interesting conversation about bounders.'
The silver band struck up again, and Mr Prendergast began a little jig, saying: 'Capital fellow!' and snapping his fingers. Paul led him to the refreshment tent.
'Dingy wants you to help her in there,' he said firmly, 'and, for God's sake, don't come out until you feel better.'
'I never felt better in my life,' said Mr Prendergast indignantly. 'Capital fellow! capital fellow!'
'It is not my affair, of course,' said Colonel Sidebotham, 'but if you ask me I should say that man had been drinking.'
'He was talking very excitedly to me,' said the Vicar, 'about some apparatus for warming a church in Worthing and about the Apostolic Claims of the Church of Abyssinia. I confess I could not follow him clearly. He seems deeply interested in Church matters. Are you quite sure he is right in the head? I have noticed again and again since I have been in the Church that lay interest in ecclesiastical matters is often a prelude to insanity.'
'Drink, pure and simple,' said the Colonel. 'I wonder where he got it? I could do with a spot of whisky.'
'Quarter mile open!' said Paul through his megaphone.
Presently the Clutterbucks arrived. Both the parents were stout. They brought with them two small children, a governess, and an elder son. They debouched from the car one by one, stretching their limbs in evident relief.
'This is Sam,' said Mr Clutterbuck, 'just down from Cambridge. He's joined me in the Business, and we've brought the nippers along for a treat. Don't mind, do you, Doc? And last, but not least, my wife.'
Dr Fagan greeted them with genial condescension and found them seats.
'I am afraid you have missed all the jumping events,' he said. 'But I have a list of the results here. You will see that Percy has done extremely well.'
'Didn't know the little beggar had it in him. See that, Martha? Percy's won the high-jump and the long-jump and the hurdles. How's your young hopeful been doing, Lady Circumference?'
'My boy has been injured in the foot,' said Lady Circumference coldly.
'Dear me! Not badly, I hope? Did he twist his ankle in the jumping?'
'No,' said Lady Circumference, 'he was shot at by one of the assistant masters. But it is kind of you to inquire.'
'Three Miles Open!' announced Paul. 'The course of six laps will be run as before.'
'On your marks! Get set.' Bang went Philbrick's revolver. Off trotted the boys on another race.
'Father,' said Flossie, 'don't you think it's time for the tea interval?'
'Nothing can be done before Mrs Beste Chetwynde arrives,' said the Doctor.
Round and round the muddy track trotted the athletes while the silver band played sacred music unceasingly.
'Last lap!' announced Paul.
The school and the visitors crowded about the tape to cheer the winner. Amid loud applause Clutterbuck breasted the tape well ahead of the others.
'Well run! Oh, good, jolly good, sir!' cried Colonel Sidebotham.
'Good old Percy! That's the stuff,' said Mr Clutterbuck.
'Well run, Percy!' chorused the two little Clutterbucks, prompted by their governess.
'That boy cheated,' said Lady Circumference. 'He only went round five times. I counted.'
'I think unpleasantness so mars the afternoon,' said the Vicar.
'How dare you suggest such a thing?' asked Mrs Clutterbuck. 'I appeal to the referee. Percy ran the full course, didn't he?'
'Clutterbuck wins,' said Captain Grimes.
'Fiddlesticks!' said Lady Circumference. 'He deliberately lagged behind and joined the others as they went behind the beeches. The little toad!'
'Really, Greta,' said Lord Circumference, 'I think we ought to abide by the referee's decision.'
'Well, they can't expect me to give away the prizes, then. Nothing would induce me to give that boy a prize.'
'Do you understand, madam, that you are bringing a serious accusation against my son's honour?'
'Serious accusation fiddlesticks! What he wants is a jolly good hidin'.'
'No doubt you judge other people's sons by your own. Let me tell you, Lady Circumference...'
'Don't attempt to browbeat me, sir. I know a cheat when I see one.'
At this stage of the discussion the Doctor left Mrs Hope Brown's side, where he had been remarking upon her son's progress in geometry, and joined the group round the winning post.
'If there is a disputed decision,' he said genially, 'they shall race again.'
'Percy has won already,' said Mr Clutterbuck. 'He has been adjudged the winner.'
'Splendid! splendid! A promising little athlete. I congratulate you, Clutterbuck.'
'But he only ran five laps,' said Lady Circumference.
'Then clearly he has won the five furlongs race, a very exacting length Decorative wire mesh.'
'But the other boys,' said Lady Circumference, almost beside herself with rage, 'have run six lengths.'
'Then they,' said the Doctor imperturbably, 'are first, second, third, fourth, and fifth respectively in the Three Miles. Clearly there has been some confusion. Diana, I think we might now serve tea.'
Things were not easy, but there was fortunately a distraction, for as he spoke an enormous limousine of dove-grey and silver stole soundlessly on to the field.
'But what could be more opportune? Here is Mrs Beste Chetwynde.'
Three light skips brought him to the side of the car, but the footman was there before him. The door opened, and from the cushions within emerged a tall young man in a clinging dove grey overcoat. After him, like the first breath of spring in the Champs Élysées, came Mrs BesteChetwynde two lizard skin feet, silk legs, chinchilla body, a tight little black hat, pinned with platinum and diamonds, and the high invariable voice that may be heard in any Ritz Hotel from New York to Budapest.
'I hope you don't mind my bringing Chokey, Dr Fagan?' she said. 'He's just crazy about sport.'
'I sure am that,' said Chokey.
'Dear Mrs Beste Chetwynde!' said Dr Fagan; 'dear, dear, Mrs Beste Chetwynde!' He pressed her glove, and for the moment was at a loss for words of welcome, for 'Chokey', though graceful of bearing and irreproachably dressed, was a Negro.Decorative wire mesh

Decline and Fall(7) Philbrick

2008-12-22T17:47:00.000-08:00

CHAPTER VII Philbrick

THAT morning just before luncheon the weather began to show signs of clearing, and by half past one the sun was shining. The Doctor made one of his rare visits to the school dining hall. At his entry everybody stopped eating and laid down his knife and fork.
'Boys,' said the Doctor, regarding them benignly, 'I have an announcement to make. Clutterbuck, will you kindly stop eating while I am addressing the school. The boys' manners need correcting, Mr Prendergast. I look to the prefects to see to this. Boys, Decorative wire mesh ,the chief sporting event of the year will take place in the playing fields to morrow. I refer to the Annual School sports, unfortunately postponed last year owing to the General Strike. Mr Pennyfeather, who, as you know, is himself a distinguished athlete, will be in charge of all arrangements. The preliminary heats will be run off to day. All boys must compete in all events. The Countess of Circumference has kindly consented to present the prizes. Mr Prendergast will act as referee, and Captain Grimes as timekeeper. I shall myself be present to morrow to watch the final competitions. That is all, thank you. Mr Pennyfeather, perhaps you will favour me with an interview when you have finished your luncheon?'
'Good God!' murmured Paul.
'I won the long jump at the last sports,' saud Briggs, 'but everyone said that it was because I had spiked shoes. Do you wear spiked shoes, sir?'
'Invariably,' said Paul.
'Everyone said it was taking an unfair advantage. You see, we never know beforehand when there's going to be sports, so we don't have time to get ready.'
'My mamma's coming down to see me to morrow,' said Beste Chetwynde; 'just my luck! Now I shall have to stay here all the afternoon.'
After luncheon Paul went to the morning room, where he found the Doctor pacing up and down in evident high excitement.
'Ah, come in, Pennyfeather! I am just making the arrangements for to morrow's fête. Florence, Decorative wire mesh ,will you get on to the Clutterbucks on the telephone and ask them to come over, and the Hope Brownes. I think the Warringtons are too far away, but you might ask them, and of course the Vicar and old Major Sidebotham. The more guests the better, Florence!
'And, Diana, you must arrange the tea. Sandwiches, foie gras sandwiches last time, you remember, the liver sausage you bought made Lady Bunway ill and cakes, plenty of cakes, with coloured sugar! You had better take the car into Llandudno and get them there.
'Philbrick, there must be champagne cup, and will you help the men putting up the marquee. And flags, Diana! There must be flags left over from last time.'
'I made them into dusters,' said Dingy.
'Well, we must buy more. No expense must be spared. Pennyfeather, I want you to get the results of the first heats out by four o'clock. Then you can telephone them to the printers, and we shall have the programmes by to-morrow. Tell them that fifty will be enough; they must be decorated with the school colours and crest in gold. And there must be flowers, Diana, banks of flowers,' said the Doctor with an expansive gesture. 'The prizes shall stand among banks of flowers. Do you think there ought to be a bouquet for Lady Circumference?'
'No,' said Dingy.
'Nonsense!' said the Doctor. 'Of course there must be a bouquet. It is rarely that the scholarly calm of Llanabba gives place to festival, but when it does taste and dignity shall go unhampered. It shall be an enormous bouquet, redolent of hospitality. You are to produce the most expensive bouquet that Wales can offer; do you understand? Flowers, youth, wisdom, the glitter of jewels, music,' said the Doctor, his imagination soaring to dizzy heights under the stimulus of the words, 'music! There must be a band.'
'I never heard of such a thing,' said Dingy. 'A band indeed! You'll be having fireworks next.'
'And fireworks,' said the Doctor, 'and do you think it would be a good thing to buy Mr Prendergast a new tie? I noticed how shabby he looked this morning.'
'No,' said Dingy with finality, 'that is going too far. Flowers and fireworks are one thing, but I insist on draw ing a line somewhere. It would be sinful to buy Mr Prendergast a tie Decorative wire mesh .'
'Perhaps you are right,' said the Doctor. 'But there shall be music. I understand that the Llanabba Silver Band was third at the North Wales Eisteddfod last month. Will you get on to them, Florence? I think Mr Davies at the station is the bandmaster. Can the Clutterbucks come?'
'Yes,' said Flossie, 'six of them.'
'Admirable! And then there is the Press. We must ring up the Flint and Denbigh Herald and get them to send a photographer. That means whisky. Will you see to that, Philbrick? I remember at one of our sports I omitted to offer whisky to the Press, and the result was a most unfortunate photograph. Boys do get into such indelicate positions during the obstacle race, don't they?
'Then there are the prizes. I think you had better take Grimes into Llandudno with you to help with the prizes. I don't think there is any need for undue extravagance with the prizes. It gives boys a wrong idea of sport. I wonder whether Lady Circumference would think it odd if we asked her to present parsley crowns. Perhaps she would. Utility, economy, and apparent durability are the qualities to be sought for, Decorative wire mesh ,I think.
'And, Pennyfeather, I hope you will see that they are distributed fairly evenly about the school. It doesn't do to let any boy win more than two events; I leave you to arrange that. I think it would be only right if little Lord Tangent won something, and Beste Chetwynde yes, his mother is coming down, too.
'I am afraid all this has been thrown upon your shoulders rather suddenly. I only learned this morning that Lady Circumference proposed to visit us, and as Mrs Beste Chetwynde was coming too, it seemed too good an opportunity to be missed. It is not often that the visits of two such important parents coincide. She is the Honourable Mrs Beste Chetwynde, you know sister in law of Lord Pastmaster a very wealthy woman, South American. They always say that she poisoned her husband, but of course little Beste Chetwynde doesn't know that. It never came into court, but there was a great deal of talk about it at the time. Perhaps you remember the case?'
'No,' said Paul.
'Powdered glass,' said Flossie shrilly, 'in his Coffee.'
'Turkish Coffee,' said Dingy.
'To work!' said the Doctor; 'we have a lot to see to.'
*
It was raining again by the time that Paul and Mr Prendergast reached the playing fields. The boys were waiting for them in bleak little groups, shivering at the unaccustomed austerity of bare knees and open necks. Clutterbuck had fallen down in the mud and was crying quietly behind a tree Decorative wire mesh .
'How shall we divide them?' said Paul.
'I don't know,' said Mr Prendergast. 'Frankly, I deplore the whole Business.'
Philbrick appeared in an overcoat and a bowler hat.
'Miss Fagan says she's very sorry, but she's burnt the hurdles and the jumping posts for firewood. She thinks she can hire some in Llandudno for to morrow. The Doctor says you must do the best you can till then. I've got to help the gardeners put up the blasted tent.'
'I think that, if anything, sports are rather worse than concerts,' said Mr Prendergast. 'They at least happen indoors. Oh dear! oh dear! How wet I am getting. I should have got my boots mended if I'd known this was going to happen.'
'Please, sir,' said Beste Chetwynde, 'we're all getting rather cold. Can we start?'
'Yes, I suppose so,' said Paul. 'What do you want to do?'
'Well, we ought to divide up into heats and then run a race.'
'All right! Get into four groups.'
This took some time. They tried to induce Mr Prendergast to run too.
'The first race will be a mile. Prendy, will you look after them? I want to see if Philbrick and I can fix up anything for the jumping.'
'But what am I to do?' said Mr Prendergast.
'Just make each group run to the Castle and back and take the names of the first two in each heat. It's quite simple.'
'I'll try,' he said sadly.
Paul and Philbrick went into the pavilion together.
'Me, a butler,' said Philbrick, 'made to put up tents like a blinking Arab!'
'Well, it's a change,' said Paul.
'It's a change for me to be a butler,' said Philbrick. 'I wasn't made to be anyone's servant.'
'No, I suppose not.'
'I expect you wonder how it is that I come to be here?' said Philbrick.
'No,' said Paul firmly, 'nothing of the kind. I don't in the least want to know anything about you; d'you hear?'
'I'll tell you,' said Philbrick; 'it was like this '
'I don't want to hear your loathsome confessions; can't you understand?'
'It isn't a loathsome confession,' said Philbrick. 'It's a story of love. I think it is without exception the most beautiful story I know.
'I daresay you have heard of Sir Solomon Philbrick?'
'No,' said Paul.
'What, never heard of old Solly Philbrick?'
'No; why?'
'Because that's me. And I can tell you this. It's a pretty well known name across the river. You've only to say Solly Philbrick, of the "Lamb and Flag", anywhere south of Waterloo Bridge to see what fame is. Try it.'
'I will one day.'
'Mind you, when I say Sir Solomon Philbrick, that's only a bit of fun, see? That's what the boys call me. Plain Mr Solomon Philbrick I am, really, just like you or him,' with a jerk of the thumb towards the playing fields, from which Mr Prendergast's voice could be heard crying weakly: 'Oh, do get into line, you beastly boys,' 'but Sir Solomon's what they call me. Out of respect, see?'
'When I say, "Are you ready? Go!" I want you to go,' Mr Prendergast could be heard saying. 'Are you ready? Go! Oh, why don't you go?' And his voice became drowned in shrill cries of protest.
'Mind you,' went on Philbrick, 'I haven't always been in the position that I am now Decorative wire mesh . I was brought up rough, damned rough. Ever heard speak of "Chick" Philbrick?'
'No, I'm afraid not.'
'No, I suppose he was before your time. Useful little boxer, though. Not first class, on account of his drinking so much and being short in the arm. Still, he used to earn five pound a night at the Lambeth Stadium. Always popular with the boys, he was, even when he was so full, he couldn't hardly fight. He was my dad, a good hearted sort of fellow but rough, as I was telling you; he used to knock my poor mother about something awful. Got jugged for it twice, but my! he took it out of her when he got out. There aren't many left like him nowadays, what with education and whisky the price it is.
' "Chick" was all for getting me on in the sporting world, and before I left school I was earning a few shillings a week holding the sponge at the Stadium on Saturday nights. It was there I met Toby Cruttwell. Perhaps you ain't heard of him, neither?'
'No, I am terribly afraid I haven't, I'm not very well up in sporting characters.'
'Sporting! What, Toby Cruttwell a sporting character! You make me laugh. Toby Cruttwell,' said Philbrick with renewed emphasis, 'what brought off the Buller diamond robbery of 1912, and the Amalgamated Steel Trust robbery of 1910, and the Isle of Wight burglaries in 1914? He wasn't no sporting character, Toby wasn't. Sporting character! D'you know what he done to Alf Larrigan, what tried to put it over on one of his girls? I'll tell you. Toby had a doctor in tow at the time, name of Peterfield; lives in Harley Street, with a swell lot of patients. Well, Toby knew a thing about him. He'd done in one of Toby's girls what went to him because she was going to have a kid. Well, Toby knew that, so he had to do what Toby told him, see?
'Toby didn't kill Alf; that wasn't his way. Toby never killed no one except a lot of blinking Turks the time they gave him the V.C. But he got hold of him and took him to Dr Peterfield, and ' Philbrick's voice sank to a whisper.
'Second heat, get ready. Now, if you don't go when I say "Go", I shall disqualify you all; d'you hear? Are you ready? Go!'
'... He hadn't no use for girls after that. Ha, ha, ha! Sporting character's good. Well, Decorative wire mesh ,me and Toby worked together for five years. I was with him in the Steel Trust and the Buller diamonds, and we cleared a nice little profit. Toby took 75 per cent, him being the older man, but even with that I did pretty well. Just before the war we split. He stuck to safe-crackinf, and I settled down comfortable at the "Lamb and Flag", Camberwell Green. A very fine house that was before the war, and it's the best in the locality now, though I says it. Things aren't quite so easy as they was, but I can't complain. I've got the Picture House next to it, too. Just mention my name there any day you like to have a free seat.'
'That's very kind of you.'
'You're welcome. Well, then there was the war. Toby got the V.C. in the Dardanelles and turned respectable. He's in Parliament now Major Cruttwell, M.P., Conservative member for some potty town on the South Coast. My old woman ran the pub for me. Didn't tell you I was married, did I? Pretty enough bit of goods when we was spliced, but she ran to fat. Women do in the public house Business. After the war things were a bit slow, and then my old woman kicked the bucket. I didn't think I'd mind much, her having got so fat and all, nor I didn't not at first, but after a time, when the excitement of the funeral had died down and things were going on just the same as usual, I began to get restless. You know how things get, and I took to reading the papers. Before that my old woman used to read out the bits she'd like, and sometimes I'd listen and sometimes I wouldn't, but anyhow they weren't the things that interested me. She never took no interest in crime, not unless it was a murder. But I took to reading the police news, and I took to dropping in at the pictures whenever they sent me a crook film. I didn't sleep so well, neither, and I used to lie awake thinking of old times Decorative wire mesh . Of course I could have married again: in my position I could have married pretty well who I liked; but it wasn't that I wanted.
'Then one Saturday night I came into the bar. I generally drop in on Saturday evenings and smoke a cigar and stand a round of drinks. It sets the right tone. I wear a buttonhole in the summer, too, and a diamond ring. Well, I was in the saloon when who did I see in the corner but Jimmy Drage cove I used to know when I was working with Toby Cruttwell. I never see a man look more discouraged.
' "Hullo, Jirnmy!" I says. "We don't see each other as often as we used. How are things with you?" I says it cordial, but careful like, because I didn't know what Jimmy was up to.
' "Pretty bad," said Jimmy. "Just fooled a job."
' "What sort of job?" I says. "Nobbling," he says, meaning kidnapping.
' "It was like this," he says. "You know a toff called Lord Utteridge?"
' "The bloke what had them electric burglar alarms," I says, "Utteridge House, Belgrave Square?"
' "That's the blinking bastard. Well, he's got a son - nasty little kid about twelve, just going off to college for the first time. I'd had my eye on him," Jimmy said, "for a long time, him being the only son and his father so rich, so when I'd finished the last job I was on I had a go at him. Everything went as easy as drinking," Jimmy said. There was a garage just round the corner behind Belgrave Square where he used to go every morning to watch them messing about with cars. Crazy about cars the kid was. Jimmy comes in one day with his motor bike and side car and asks for some petrol. He comes up and looks at it in the way he had.
' "That bike's no good," he says. "No good?" says Jimmy. "I wouldn't sell it not for a hundred quid, I wouldn't. This bike," he says, "won the Grand Prix at Boulogne." "Nonsense!" the kid says; "it wouldn't do thirty, not downhill." "Well, just you see," Jimmy says. "Come for a run? I bet you I'll do eighty on the road." In he got, and away they went till they got to a place Jimmy knew. Then Jimmy shuts him up safe and writes to the father. The kid was happy as blazes taking down the engine of Jimmy's bike. It's never been the same since, Jimmy told me, but then it wasn't much to talk of before. Everything had gone through splendid till Jimmy got his answer from Lord Utteridge. Would you believe it, that unnatural father wouldn't stump up, him that owns ships and coal mines enough to buy the blinking Bank of England. Said he was much obliged to Jimmy for the trouble he had taken, that the dearest wish of his life had been gratified and the one barrier to his complete Happiness removed, Decorative wire mesh but that, as the matter had been taken up without his instructions, he did not feel called upon to make any payment in respect of it, and remained his sincerely, Utteridge.
'That was a nasty one for Jimmy. He wrote once or twice after that, but got no answer, so by the time the kid had spread bits of the bike all over the room Jimmy let him go.
' "Did you try pulling out 'is teeth and sending them to his pa?" I asks.
' "No," says Jimmy, "I didn't do that."
' "Did you make the kid write pathetic, asking to be let out?"
' "No," says Jimmy, "I didn't do that."
' "Did you cut off one of his fingers and put it in the letter box?"
' "No," he says.
' "Well, man alive," I says, "you don't deserve to succeed, you just don't know your job."
' "Oh, cut that out," he says; "it's easy to talk. You've been out of the Business ten years. You don't know what things are like nowadays."
'Well, that rather set me thinking. As I say, I'd been getting restless doing nothing but just pottering round the pub all day. "Look here," I says, "I bet you I can bring off a job like that any day with any kid you like to mention." "Done!" says Jimmy. So he opens a newspaper "The first toff we find what's got a' only son," he says "Right!" says I. Well, about the first thing we found was a picture of Lady Circumference with her only son, Lord Tangent, at Warwick Races. "There's your man," says Jimmy. And that's what brought me here.'
'But, good gracious,' said Paul, 'why have you told me this monstrous story? I shall certainly inform the police. I never heard of such a thing.'
'That's all right,' said Philbrick. 'The job's off. Jimmy's won his bet. All this was before I met Dina, see?'
'Dina?'
'Miss Diana. Dina I calls her, after a song I heard. The moment I saw that girl I knew the game was up. My heart just stood still. There's a song about that, too. That girl,' said Philbrick, 'could bring a man up from the depths of hell itself.'
'You feel as strongly as that about her?'
'I'd go through fire and water for that girl. She's not happy here. I don't think her dad treats her proper. Sometimes,' said Philbrick, 'I think she's only marrying me to get away from here.'
'Good Heavens! Are you going to get married?'
'We fixed it up last Thursday. We've been going together for some time. It's bad for a girl being shut away like that, never seeing a man. She was in a state she'd have gone with anybody until I come along, just housekeeping day in, day out. The only pleasure she ever got was cutting down the bills and dismissing the servants. Most of them leave before their month is up, Decorative wire mesh ,anyway, they're that hungry. She's got a head on her shoulders, she has. Real Business woman, just what I need at the "Lamb".
'Then she heard me on the phone one day giving instructions to our manager at the Picture Theatre. That made her think a bit. A prince in disguise, as you might say. It was she who actually suggested our getting married. I shouldn't have had the race to, not while I was butler. What I'd meant to do was to hire a car one day and come down with my diamond ring and buttonhole and pop the question. But there wasn't any need for that. Love's a wonderful thing.'
Philbrick stopped speaking and was evidently deeply moved by his recital. The door of the pavilion opened, and Mr Prendergast came in.
'Well,' asked Paul, 'how are the sports going?'
'Not very well,' said Mr Prendergast; 'in fact, they've gone.'
'All over?'
'Yes. You see, none of the boys came back from the first race. They just disappeared behind the trees at the top of the drive. I expect they've gone to change. I don't blame them, I'm sure. It's terribly cold. Still, it was discouraging launching heat after heat and none coming back. Like sending troops into battle, you know.'
'The best thing for us to do is to go back and change too.'
'Yes, I suppose so. Oh, what a day!'
Grimes was in the Common Room.
'Just back from the gay metropolis of Llandudno,' he said. 'Shopping with Dingy is not a seemly occupation for a public school man. How did the heats go?'
'There weren't any,' said Paul.
'Quite right,' said Grimes: 'you leave this to me. I've been in the trade some time. These things are best done over the fire. We can make out the results in peace. We'd better hurry. The old boy wants them sent to be printed this evening.'
And taking a sheet of paper and a small stub of pencil, Grimes made out the programme.
'How about that?' he said.
'Clutterbuck seems to have done pretty well,' said Paul.
'Yes, he's a splendid little athlete,' said Grimes. 'Now just you telephone that through to the printers, and they'll get it done to night. I wonder if we ought to have a hurdle race?'
'No,' said Mr Prendergast.

Decline and Fall(6) Conduct

2008-12-07T18:50:00.000-08:00

CHAPTER VI Conduct

SITTING over the Common Room fire that afternoon waiting for the bell for tea, Paul found himself reflecting that on the whole the last week had not been quite as awful as he had expected. As Beste-Chetwynde had told him, he was a distinct success with his form; after the first day an understanding had been established between them. It was tacitly agreed that when Paul wished to read or to write letters he was allowed to do so undisturbed while he left them to employ the time as they thought best; when Paul took it upon him to talk to them about their lessons they remained silent, and when he set them work to do some of it was done. It had rained steadily, so that there had been no games. No punishments, no reprisals, no exertion, Decorative wire mesh ,and in the evenings the confessions of Grimes, any one of which would have glowed with outstanding shamelessness from the appendix to a treatise in psycho-analysis.
Mr Prendergast came in with the post.
'A letter for you, two for Grimes, nothing for me,' he said. 'No one ever writes to me. There was a time when I used to get five or six letters a day, not counting circulars. My mother used to file them for me to answer one heap of charity appeals, another for personal letters, another for marriages and funerals, another for baptisms and churchings, and another for anonymous abuse. I wonder why it is the clergy always get so many letters of that sort, sometimes from quite educated people. I remember my father had great trouble in that way once, and he was forced to call in the police because they became so threatening. And, do you know, it was the curate's wife who had sent them such a quiet little woman. There's your letter. Grimes' look like bills. I can't think why shops give that man credit at all. I always pay cash, or at least I should if I ever bought anything. But d'you know that, except for my tobacco and the Daily News and Decorative wire mesh occasionally a little port when it's very cold, I don't think I've bought anything for two years. The last thing I bought was that walking stick. I got it at Shanklin, and Grimes uses it for beating the boys with. I hadn't really meant to buy one, but I was there for the day two years this August and I went into the tobacconist's to buy some tobacco. He hadn't the sort I wanted, and I felt I couldn't go out without getting something, so I bought that. It cost one and six,' he added wistfully, 'so I had no tea.'
Paul took his letter. It had been forwarded from Onslow Square. On the flap were embossed the arms of Scone college. It was from one of his four friends.

Scone college, J.C.R.,
Oxford.
My dear Pennyfeather, it ran,
I need hardly tell you how distressed I was when I heard of your disastrous misfortune. It seems to me that a real injustice has been done to you. I have not heard the full facts of the case, but I was confirmed in my opinion by a very curious incident last evening. I was just going to bed when Digby Vane-Trumpington came into my rooms without knocking Decorative wire mesh. He was smoking a cigar. I had never spoken to him before, as you know, and was very much surprised at his visit. He said: 'I'm told you are a friend of Pennyfeather's.' I said I was, and he said: ' Well, I gather I've rather got him into a mess'; I said: ' Yes,' and he said: ' Well, will you apologize to him for me when you write?' I said I would. Then he said: 'Look here, I'm told he's rather poor. I thought of sending him some money £20 for sort of damages, you know. It's all I can spare at the moment. Wouldn't it be a useful thing to do?' I fairly let him have it, I can tell you, and told him just what I thought of him for making such an insulting suggestion. I asked him how he dared treat a gentleman like that just because he wasn't in his awful set. He seemed rather taken aback and said: 'Well all my friends spend all their time trying to get money out of me,' and went off.
I bicycled over to St Magnus's at Little Bechley and took some rubbings of the brasses there. I wished you had been with me.
Yours,
Arthur Potts.
PS. I understand you are thinking of taking up educational work. It seems to me that the great problem of education is to train the moral perceptions, not merely to discipline the appetites. I cannot help thinking that it is in greater fastidiousness rather than in greater self control that the future progress of the race lies. I shall be interested to hear what your experience has been over the matter. The chaplain does not agree with me in this. He says geat sensibility usually leads to enervation of will. Let me know what you think Decorative wire mesh.

'What do you think about that?' asked Paul, handing Mr Prendergast the letter.
'Well,' he said after studying it carefully, 'I think your friend is wrong about sensibility. It doesn't do to rely on one's own feelings, does it, not in anything?'
'No, I mean about the money.'
'Good gracious, Pennyfeather! I hope you are in no doubt about that. Accept it at once, of course.'
'It's a temptation.'
'My dear boy, it would be a sin to refuse. Twenty pounds! Why, it takes me half a term to earn that.'
The bell rang for tea. In the dining hall Paul gave the letter to Grimes.
'Shall I take the twenty pounds?' he asked.
'Take it? My Godl I should think you would.'
'Well, I'm not sure,' said Paul.
He thought about it all through afternoon school, all the time he was dressing for dinner, and all through dinner. It was a severe struggle, but his early training was victorious.
'If I take that money,' he said to himself, 'I shall never know whether I have acted rightly or not. It would always be on my mind. If I refuse, I shall be sure of having done right. I shall look upon my self denial with exquisite self approval. By refusing I can convince myself Decorative wire mesh that, in spite of the unbelievable things that have been happening to me during the last ten days, I am still the same Paul Pennyfeather I have respected so long. It is a test case of the durability of my ideals.'
He tried to explain something of what he felt to Grimes as they sat in Mrs Roberts's bar parlour that evening.
'I'm afraid you'll find my attitude rather difficult to understand,' he said. 'I suppose it's largely a matter of upbringing. There is every reason why I should take this money. Digby Vane Trumpington is exceedingly rich; and if he keeps it, it will undoubtedly be spent on betting or on some deplorable debauch. Owing to his party I have suffered irreparable harm. My whole future is shattered, and I have directly lost one hundred and twenty pounds a year in scholarships and two hundred and fifty pounds a year allowance from my guardian. By any ordinary process of thought, the money is justly mine. But,' said Paul Pennyfeather, 'there is my honour. For generations the British bourgeoisie have spoken of themselves as gentlemen, and by that they have meant, among other things Decorative wire mesh, a self respecting scorn of irregular perquisites. It is the quality that distinguishes the gentleman from both the artist and the aristocrat. Now I am a gentleman. I can't help it: it's born in me. I just can't take that money.'
'Well, I'm a gentleman too, old boy,' said Grimes, 'and I was afraid you might feel like that, so I did my best for you and saved you from yourself.'
'What d'you mean by that?'
'Dear old boy, don't be angry, but immediately after tea I sent off a wire to your friend Potts: Tell Trumpington send money quick, and signed it "Pennyfeather". I don't mind lending you the bob till it comes, either.'
'Grimes, you wretch!' said Paul, but, in spite of himself, he felt a great wave of satisfaction surge up within him. 'We must have another drink on that.'
'Good for you,' said Grimes, 'and it's on me this round.'
'To the durability of ideals!' said Paul as he got his pint.
'My word, what a mouthful!' said Grimes; 'I can't say that. Cheerioh!'
*
Two days later came another letter from Arthur Potts:

Dear Pennyfeather,
I enclose Trumpington's cheque for £20. I am glad that my dealings with him are at an end. I cannot pretend to understand your attitude in this matter Decorative wire mesh, but no doubt you are the best judge.
Stiggins is reading a paper to the O.S.C.U. on 'Sex Repression and Religious Experience'. Everyone expects rather a row, because you know how keen Walton is on the mystical element, which I think Stiggins is inclined to discount.
Yours,
Arthur Potts.
There is a most interesting article in the 'Educational Review' on the new methods that are being tried at the Innesborough High School to induce co ordination of the senses. •They put small objects into the children's mouths and make them draw the shapes in red chalk. Have you tried this with your boys? I must say I envy you your opportunities. Are your colleagues enlightened?
'This same Potts,' said Grimes as he read the letter, 'would appear to be something of a stinker. Still, we've got the doings. How about a binge?'
'Yes,' said Paul, 'I think we ought to do something about one. I should like to ask Prendy too.'
'Why, of course. It's just what Prendy needs. He's been looking awfully down in the mouth lately. Why shouldn't we all go over to the Metropole at Cwmpryddyg for dinner one night? We shall have to wait until the old boy goes away, otherwise he'll notice that there's no one on duty.'
Later in the day Paul suggested the plan to Mr Prendergast.
'Really, Pennyfeather,' he said, 'I think that's uncommonly kind of you. I hardly know what to say. Of course, I should love it. I can't remember when I dined at an hotel last. Certainly not since the war. It will be a treat. My dear boy. I'm quite overcome.'
And, much to Paul's embarrassment, a tear welled up in each of Mr Prendergast's eyes, and coursed down his cheeks Decorative wire mesh.

Old People Feel 13 Years Younger Than They Are

2008-12-04T18:22:00.000-08:00

Older people tend to feel about 13 years younger than their chronological age, a new study finds.
The seniors in the study, all 70 and over, also thought they looked about 10 years younger than their numerical age, with women perceiving their appearances to be closer to their actual age than men.
"People generally felt quite a bit younger than they actually were, and they also showed relatively high levels of satisfaction with aging over the time period studied," said researcher Jacqui Smith, a psychologist at the University of Michigan Institute for Social Research.
She added, "Perhaps feeling about 13 years younger is an optimal illusion in old age."
The results, which will be published in a forthcoming issue of the Journals of Gerontology: Psychological science, have implications beyond the psychological. Past research has shown that feeling youthful is linked with better health and longer life, the researchers say.
Spring chickens
Smith and her colleagues analyzed information collected from surveys of 516 men and women age 70 and older who participated in the Berlin Aging Study. The survey tracked how seniors' perceptions about age and their satisfaction with aging changed over a six-year period ending in 1998.
(Even though the study was conducted on Berlin residents, Smith said the same results should apply to Americans. And in fact her recent research on Americans is showing similar results.)
Decorative wire mesh Galvanized iron wire Grassland Fence
Some of the oldest participants actually felt even younger than the average delightful self-deception in the study. This could be due to the fact that individuals on the older side, say 85, experienced less overall decline with age. And that's why they survived, while their 70-year-old counterparts perhaps didn't have so much longer to live.
Those in poor health reported a smaller gap between how old they felt and their actual ages.
"The way that we feel about our age is in part a reflection of the message we are getting from society about what people our age ought to be doing," Smith told Livescience, "and it's also an indication about how we interpret our biological aging to be."
Lookin' good
The researchers also assessed how old people thought they looked by asking, "How old do you feel when you look at yourself in a mirror?" Participants indicated an age on a scale that ranged from 0 to 120 years.
At the start of the study, the seniors said they looked on average 10 years younger than their actual age and about seven years younger by the end of the study.
In general, women perceived their appearance as being closer to their actual age.
"Women saw themselves as about four years older than their male peers," Smith said. "There are several likely reasons for this gender gap in subjective physical age. One is that women may be more aware of their appearance than men, especially given the negative stereotypes of older bodies."
Decorative wire mesh Galvanized iron wire Grassland Fence
Another possible reason for the gender difference is that men typically die at a younger age compared with women. So the oldest men would've been in the best physical shape to live so long.
"Those men who live for a very long time are the fittest men, so they're usually much stronger than the women physically, and they may actually look better than many 80-year-old women physically," Smith said.
Participants also rated the extent to which they agreed with statements about satisfaction with aging. Results showed that initially, men were more satisfied than women with their own aging. But over the six-year period, men's satisfaction decreased more than women's did. Poor health magnified these patterns, Smith said.

Decline and Fall(5) Discipline

2008-12-04T17:58:00.000-08:00

CHAPTER V Discipline

PRAYERS were held downstairs in the main hall of the Castle. The boys stood ranged along the panelled walls, each holding in his hands a little pile of books. Grimes sat on one of the chairs beside the baronial chimneypiece.
'Morning,' he said to Paul; 'only just down, I'm afraid. Do I smell of drink?'
'Yes,' said Paul.
'Comes of missing breakfast. Prendy been telling you about his Doubts?'
'Yes,' said Paul.
'Funny thing,' said Grimes, 'but I've never been worried in that way. I don't pretend to be a particularly pious sort of chap, but I've never had any Doubts Decorative wire mesh. When you've been in the soup as often as I have, it gives you a sort of feeling that everything's for the best, really. You know, God's in His heaven; all's right with the world. I can't quite explain it, but I don't believe one can ever be unhappy for long provited one does just exactly what one wants to and when one wants to. The last chap who put me on my feet said I was "singularly in harmony with the primitive promptings of humanity." I've remembered that phrase because somehow it seemed to fit me. Here comes the old man. This is where we stand up.'
As the bell stopped ringing Dr Fagan swept into the hall, the robes of a Doctor of philosophy swelling and billowing about him. He wore an orchid in his buttonhole.
'Good morning, gentlemen,' he said.
'Good morning, sir,' chorused the boys.
The Doctor advanced to the table at the end of the room, picked up a Bible, and opening it at random, read a chapter of blood curdling military history without any evident relish. From that he plunged into the Lord's prayer, which the boys took up in a quiet chatter. Prendergast's voice led them in tones that testified to his ecclesiastical past Decorative wire mesh.
Then the Doctor glanced at a sheet of notes he held in his hand. 'Boys,' he said, 'I have some announcements to make. The Fagan cross country running challenge cup will not be competed for this year on account of the floods.'
'I expect the old boy has popped it,' said Grimes in Paul's ear.
'Nor will the Llanabba Essay Prize.'
'On account of the floods,' said Grimes.
'I have received my account for the telephone,' proceeded Dr Fagan, 'and I find that during the past quarter there have been no less than twenty three trunk calls to London, none of which was sent by me or by members of my family. I look to the prefects to stop this, unless of course they are themselves responsible, in which case I must urge them in my own interests to make use of the village post office, to which they have access.
'I think that is everything, isn't it, Mr Prendergast?'
'Cigars,' said Mr Prendergast in a stage whisper.
'Ah yes, cigars. Boys, I have been deeply distressed to Decorative wire mesh learn that several cigar ends have been found where have they been found?'
'Boiler room.'
'In the boiler room. I regard this as reprehensible. What boy has been smoking cigars in the boiler room?'
There was a prolonged silence, during which the Doctor's eye travelled down the line of boys.
'I will give the culprit until luncheon to give himself up. If I do not hear from him by then the whole school will be heavily punished.'
'Damn!' said Grimes. 'I gave those cigars to Clutterbuck. I hope the little beast has the sense to keep quiet.'
'Go to your classes,' said the Doctor.
The boys filed out.
'I should think, by the look of them, they were exceedingly cheap cigars,' added Mr Prendergast sadly. 'They were a pale yellow colour.'
'That makes it worse,' said the Doctor. 'To think of any boy Decorative wire mesh under my charge smoking pale yellow cigars in a boiler room! It is not a gentlemanly fault.'
The masters went upstairs.
'That's your little mob in there,' said Grimes; 'you let them out at eleven.'
'But what am I to teach them?' said Paul in sudden panic.
'Oh, I shouldn't try to teach them anything, not just yet, anyway. Just keep them quiet.'
'Now that's a thing I've never learned to do,' sighed Mr Prendergast.
Paul watched him amble into his classroom at the end of the passage, where a burst of applause greeted his arrival. Dumb with terror he went into his own classroom.
Ten boys sat before him, their hands folded, their eyes bright with expectation.
'Good morning, sir,' said the one nearest him.
'Good morning,' said Paul.
'Good morning, sir,' said the next.
'Good morning,' said Paul.
'Good morning, sir,' said the next.
'Oh, shut up,' said Paul.
At this the boy took out a handkerchief and began to cry quietly.
'Oh, sir,' came a chorus of reproach, 'you've hurt his feelings. He's very sensitive; it's his Welsh blood, you know; it makes people very emotional. Say "Good morning" to him, sir, or he won't be happy all day. After all, it is a good morning, isn't it, sir?'
'Silence!' shouted Paul above the uproar, and for a few moments things were quieter Decorative wire mesh.
'Please, sir,' said a small voice Paul turned and saw a grave looking youth holding up his hand 'please, sir, perhaps he's been smoking cigars and doesn't feel well.'
'Silence!' said Paul again.
The ten boys stopped talking and sat perfectly still staring at him. He felt himself getting hot and red under their scrutiny.
'I suppose the first thing I ought to do is to get your names clear. What is your name?' he asked, turning to the first boy.
'Tangent, sir.'
'And yours?'
'Tangent, sir,' said the next boy. Paul's heart sank.
'But you can't both be called Tangent.'
'No, sir, I'm Tangent. He's just trying to be funny.'
'I like that. Me trying to be funny! Please, sir, I'm Tangent, sir; really I am.'
'If it comes to that,' said Clutterbuck from the back of the room, 'there is only one Decorative wire mesh Tangent here, and that is me. Anyone else can jolly well go to blazes.'
Paul felt desperate.
'Well, is there anyone who isn't Tangent?'
Four or five voices instantly arose.
'I'm not, sir; I'm not Tangent. I wouldn't be called Tangent, not on the end of a barge pole.'
In a few seconds the room had become divided into two parties: those who were Tangent and those who were not. Blows were already being exchanged, when the door opened and Grimes came in. There was a slight hush.
'I thought you might want this,' he said, handing Paul a walking stick. 'And if you take my advice, you'll set them something to do.'
He went out; and Paul, firmly grasping the walking-stick, faced his form.
'Listen,' he said. 'I don't care a damn what any of you are called, but if there's another word from anyone I shall keep you all in this afternoon.'
'You can't keep me in,' said Clutterbuck; 'I'm going for a walk with Captain Grimes.'
'Then I shall very nearly kill you with this stick. Meanwhile you will all write an essay on "Self indulgence". There will be a Decorative wire mesh prize of half a crown for the longest essay, irrespective of any possible merit.'
From then onwards all was silence until break. Paul, still holding his stick, gazed despondently out of the window. Now and then there rose from below the shrill voices of the servants scolding each other in Welsh. By the time the bell rang Clutterbuck had covered sixteen pages, and was awarded the half crown.
'Did you find those boys difficult to manage?' asked Mr Prendergast, filling his pipe.
'Not at all,' said Paul.
'Ah, you're lucky. I find all boys utterly intractable. I don't know why it is. Of course my wig has a lot to do with it. Have you noticed that I wear a wig?'
'No, no, of course not.'
'Well, the boys did as soon as they saw it. It was a great mistake my ever getting one. I thought when I left Worthing that I looked too old to get a job easily. I was only forty one. It was very expensive, even though I chose the cheapest quality. Perhaps that's why it looks so like a wig. I don't know. I knew from the first that it was a mistake, but once they had seen it, it was too late to go back.Decorative wire mesh They make all sorts of jokes about it.'
'I expect they'd laugh at something else if it wasn't that.'
'Yes, no doubt they would. I daresay it's a good thing to localize their ridicule as far as possible. Oh dear! oh dear! If it wasn't for my pipes, I don't know how I should manage to keep on. What made you come here?'
'I was sent down from Scone for indecent behaviour.'
'Oh yes, like Grimes?'
'No,' said Paul firmly, 'not like Grimes.'
'Oh, well, it's all much the same really. And there's the bell. Oh dear! oh dear! I believe that loathsome little man's taken my gown.'
*
Two days later Beste Chetwynde pulled out the vox humana and played Pop goes the Weasel.
'D'you know, sir, you've made rather a hit with the fifth form Decorative wire mesh?'
He and Paul were seated in the organ loft of the village church. It was their second music lesson.
'For goodness' sake, leave the organ alone. How d'you mean "hit"?'
'Well, Clutterbuck was in the matron's room this morning. He'd just got a tin of pineapple chunks. Tangent said, "Are you going to take that into Hall?" and he said, "No, I'm going to eat them in Mr Pennyfeather's hour." "Oh no, you're not," said Tangent. "Sweets and biscuits are one thing, but pineapple chunks are going too far. It's little stinkers like you," he said, "who turn decent masters savage." '
'Do you think that's so very complimentary?'
'I think it's one of the most complimentary things I ever heard said about a master,' said Beste Chetwynde; 'would you like me to try that hymn again?'
'No,' said Paul decisively.
'Well, then, I'll tell you another thing,' said Beste-Chetwynde. 'You know that man Philbrick. Well, I think there's something odd about him.'
'I've no doubt of it.'
'It's not just that he's such a bad butler. The servants are always ghastly here. But I don't believe he's a butler at all.'
'I don't quite see what else he can be.'
'Well, have you ever known a butler with a diamond tie pin?'
'No, I don't think I have.'
'Well, Philbrick's got one, and a diamond ring too. He showed decorative wire mesh them to Brolly. Colossal great diamonds, Brolly says. Philbrick said he used to have bushels of diamonds and emeralds before the war, and that he used to eat off gold plate. We believe that he's a Russian prince in exile.'
'Generally speaking, Russians are not shy about using their titles, are they? Besides, he looks very English.'
'Yes, we thought of that, but Brolly said lots of Russians came to school in England before the war. And now I am going to play the organ,' said Beste Chetwynde. 'After all, my mother does pay five guineas a term extra for me to learn.'

Decline and Fall(4) Mr Prendergast

2008-11-30T22:05:00.000-08:00

CHAPTER IV Mr Prendergast

PAUL was awakened next morning by a loud bang on his door, and Beste Chetwynde looked in. He was wearing a very expensive looking Charvat dressing gown.
'Good morning, sir,' he said. 'I thought I'd come and tell you, as you wouldn't know: there's only one bath room for the masters. If you want to get there before Mr Prendergast, you ought to go now. Captain Grimes doesn't wash much,' he added, and then disappeared.
Paul went to the bath and was rewarded some minutes later by hearing the shuffling of slippers down the passage and the door furiously rattled.Decorative wire mesh
As he was dressing Philbrick appeared.
'Oh, I forgot to call you. Breakfast is in ten minutes.'
After breakfast Paul went up to the Common Room. Mr Prendergast was there polishing his pipes, one by one, with a chamois leather. He looked reproachfully at Paul.
'We must come to some arrangement about the bathroom,' he said. 'Grimes very rarely has a bath. I have one before breakfast.'
'So do I,' said Paul defiantly.
'Then I suppose I shall have to find some other time,' said Mr Prendergast, and he gave a deep sigh as he returned his attention to his pipes. 'After ten years, too,' he added, 'but everything's like that. I might have known you'd want the bath. It was so easy when there was only Grimes and that other young man. He was never down in time for breakfast. Oh dear! oh dear! I can see that things are going to be very difficult.'
'But surely we could both have one?'
'No, no, that's out of the question. It's all part of the same thing. Everything has been like this since I left the ministry.'
Paul made no answer, and Mr Prendergast Decorative wire mesh went on breathing and rubbing.
'I expect you wonder how I came to be here?'
'No, no,' said Paul soothingly. 'I think it's very natural.'
'It's not natural at all; it's most unnatural. If things had happened a little differently I should be a rector with my own little house and bathroom. I might even have been a rural dean, only' and Mr Prendergast dropped his voice to a whisper 'only I had Doubts.
'I don't know why I'm telling you all this, nobody else knows. I somehow feel you'll understand.
'Ten years ago I was a clergyman of the Church of England. I had just been presented to a living in Worthing. It was such an attractive church, not old, but vey beautifully decorated, six candles on the altar, Reservation in the Lady Chapel, and an excellent heating apparatus which burned coke in a little shed by the sacristy door, no graveyard Decorative wire mesh, just a hedge of golden privet between the church and the rectory.
'As soon as I moved in my mother came to keep house for me. She bought some chintz, out of her own money, for the drawing room curtains. She used to be "at Home" once a week to the ladies of the congregation. One of them, the dentist's wife, gave me a set of the Encyclopaedia Britannica for my study. It was all very pleasant until my Doubts began '
'Were they as bad as all that?' asked Paul.
'They were insuperable,' said Mr Prendergast; 'that is why I am here now. But I expect T am boring you?'
'No, do go on. That's to say, unless you find it painful to think about.'
'I think about it all the time. It happened like this, quite suddenly. We had been there about three months, and my mother had made great friends with some people called Bundle rather a curious name. I think he was an insurance agent until he retired. Mrs Bundle used very kindly to ask us in to supper on Sundays after Evensong. They were pleasant informal gatherings Decorative wire mesh, and I used quite to look forward to them. I can see them now as they sat there on this particular evening; there was my mother and Mr and Mrs Bundle, and their son, rather a spotty boy, I remember, who used to go in to Brighton college by train every day, and Mrs Bundle's mother, a Mrs Crump, rather deaf, but a very good Churchwoman, and Mrs Aber that was the name of the dentist's wife who gave me the Encyclopaedia Britannica and old Major Ending, the people's warden. I had preached two sermons that day besides taking the children's Bible-class in the afternoon, and I had rather dropped out of the conversation. They were all talking away quite happily about the preparations that were being made on the pier for the summer season, when suddenly, for no reason at all, my Doubts began.' He paused, and Paul felt constrained to offer some expression of sympathy.
'What a terrible thing!' he said.
'Yes, I've not known an hour's real Happiness since. You see, it wasn't the ordinary sort of Doubt about Cain's wife or the Old Testament miracles or the consecration of Archbishop Parker. I'd been taught how to explain all those while I was at college. No, it was something deeper than all that. I couldn't understand why God had made the world at all. There was my mother and the Bundles and Mrs Crump talking away quite unconcernedly while I sat there wrestling with this sudden assault of doubt. You see how fimdamental that is. Once granted the first step, I can see that everything else follows Tower of Babel, Babylonian captivity, Incarnation, Church, bishops, incense, everything but what I couldn't see, and what I can't see now Decorative wire mesh, is, why did it all begin?
'I asked my bishop; he didn't know. He said that he didn't think the point really arose as far as my practical duties as a parish priest were concerned. I discussed it with my mother. At first she was inclined to regard it as a passing phase. But it didn't pass, so finally she agreed with me that the only honourable thing to do was to resign my living; she never really recovered from the shock, poor old lady. It was a great blow after she had bought the chintz and got so friendly with the Bundles.'
A bell began ringing down a distant passage.
'Well, well, we must go to prayers, and I haven't finished my pipes.' He took his gown from the peg behind the door and slipped it over his shoulders.
'Perhaps one day I shall see Light,' he said, 'and then I shall go back to the ministry. Meanwhile '
Clutterbuck ran past the door, whistling hideously.
'That's a nasty little boy,' said Mr Prendergast, 'if ever there was one.'

Decline and Fall(3) Captain Grimes

2008-11-27T19:02:00.000-08:00

CHAPTER III Captain Grimes

PAUL had very little difficulty in finding the dining hall. He was guided there by the smell of cooking and the sound of voices. It was a large, panelled room, far from disagreeable, with fifty or sixty boys of ages ranging from ten to eighteen settled along four long tables. The smaller ones wore Eton suits, the elder ones dinner-jackets.Decorative wire mesh
He was led to a place at the head of one of the tables. The boys on either side of him stood up very politely until he sat down. One of them was the boy who had whistled at Captain Grimes. Paul thought he rather liked him.
'I'm called Beste Chetwynde,' he said.
'I've got to teach you the organ, I believe.'
'Yes, it's great fun: we play in the village church. Do you play terribly well?'
Paul felt this was not a moment for candour, and so, 'tempering discretion with deceit', he said, 'Yes, remarkably well.'
'I say, do you really, or are you rotting?'
'Indeed, I'm not. I used to give lessons to the Master of Scone.'
'Well, you won't be able to teach me much,' said Beste Chetwynde cheerfully. 'I only do it to get off gym. I say, they haven't given you a napkin. These servants are too awful. Philbrick,' he shouted to the butler, 'why haven't you given Mr Pennyfeather a napkin?'
'Forgot,' said Philbrick, 'and it's too late because Miss Fagan's locked the linen up.'
'Nonsense!' said Beste Chetwynde; 'go and get one at once. That man's Decorative wire mesh all right, really,' he added, 'only he wants watching.'
In a few minutes Philbrick returned with the napkin.
'It seems to me that you're a remarkably intelligent boy,' said Paul.
'Captain Grimes doesn't think so. He says I'm half-witted. I'm glad you're not like Captain Grimes. He's so common, don't you think?'
'You mustn't talk about the other masters like that in front of me.'
'Well that's what we all think about him, ariyway. What's more, he wears combinations. I saw it in his, washing book one day when I was fetching him his hat. I think combinations are rather awful, don't you?'
There was a commotion at the end of the hall.
'I expect that's Clutterbuck being sick,' said Beste Chetwynde. 'He's awfully sick when we have mutton.'
The boy on Paul's other side now spoke for the first time.
'Mr Prendergast wears a wig,' he said, and then be came very confused and subsided into a giggle.
'That's Briggs,' said Beste Chetwynde, 'only everyone calls him Brolly, because of the shop, you know.'
'They're silly rotters,' said Briggs.
All this was a great deal easier than Paul had expected; it didn't seem so very hard to get on with boys, after all.
After a time they all stood up, and amid considerable noise Mr Prendergast said grace Decorative wire mesh. Someone called out 'Prendy!' very loudly just by Paul's ear.
' ... per Christum Dominum nostrum. Amen,' said Mr Prendergast. 'Betse Chetwynde, was that you who made that noise?'
'Me, sir? No, sir.'
'Pennyfeather, did Beste Chetwynde make that noise?'
'No, I don't think so,' said Paul, and Beste Chetwynde gave him a friendly look, because, as a matter of fact, he had.
Captain Grimes linked arms with him outside the dining hall.
'Filthy meal, isn't it, old boy?' he said.
'Pretty bad,' said Paul.
'Prendy's on duty to night. I'm off to the pub. How about you?'
'All right,' said Paul.
'Prendy's not so bad in his way,' said Grimes, 'but he can't keep order. Of course, you know he wears a wig. Very hard for a man with a wig to keep order. I've got a false leg, but that's different. Boys respect that. Think I lost it in the war. Actually,' said the Captain, 'and strictly between ourselves, mind, I was run over by a tram in Stoke on Trent when I was one over the eight. Still, it doesn't do to let that out to everyone. Funny thing, but I feel I can trust you. I think we're going to be pals.'
'I hope so,' said Paul.
'I've been feeling the need of a pal for some time. The bloke before you wasn't bad a bit stand offish, though. He had a motor bike, you see. The daughters of the house didn't care for him. Have you met Miss Fagan?'
'I've met two.'
'They're both bitches,' said Grimes, and added moodily, 'I'm engaged to be married to Flossie.'
'Good God! Which is she?'
'The elder. The boys call them Flossie and Dingy. We haven't told the old boy decorative wire mesh yet. I'm waiting till I land in the soup again. Then I shall play that as my last card. I generally get into the soup sooner or later. Here's the pub. Not such a bad little place in its way. Clutterbuck's father makes all the beer round here. Not bad stuff, either. Two pints, please, Mrs Roberts!'
In the farther corner sat Philbrick, talking volubly in Welsh to a shady looking old man.
'Damned cheek his coming in here!' said Grimes.
Mrs Roberts brought them their beer. Grimes took a long draught and sighed happily.
'This looks like being the first end of term I've seen for two years,' he said dreamily. 'Funny thing, I can always get on all right for about six weeks, and then I land in the soup. I don't believe I was ever meant by Nature to be a schoolmaster. Temperament,' said Grimes, with a faraway look in his eyes 'that's been my trouble, temperament and sex.'
'Is it quite easy to get another job after after you've been in the soup?' asked Paul.
'Not at first, it isn't, but there're ways. Besides, you see, I'm a public school man. That means everything. There's a blessed equity in the English social system,' said Grimes, 'that ensures the public school man against starvation. One goes through four or five years of perfect hell at an age when life is bound to be hell, anyway, and after that the social system never lets one down.
'Not that I stood four or five years of it, mind; I got the push soon after my sixteenth birthday. But my housemaster was a public school man. He knew the system. "Grimes," he said, "I can't keep you in the House after what has happened. I have the other boys to consider. But I don't want to be too hard on you decorative wire mesh. I want you to start again." So he sat down there and then and wrote me a letter of recommendation to any future employer, a corking good letter, too. I've got it still. It's been very useful at one time or another. That's the public school system all over. They may kick you out, but they never let you down.
'I subscribed a guinea to the War Memorial Fund. I felt I owed it to them. I was really sorry,' said Grimes, 'that that cheque never got through.
'After that I went into Business. Uncle of mine had a brush factory at Edmonton. Doing pretty well before the war. That put the lid on the brush trade for me. You're too young to have been in the war, I suppose? Those were days, old boy. We shan't see the like of them again. I don't suppose I was really sober for more than a few hours for the whole of that war. Then I got into the soup again, pretty badly that time. Happened over in France. They said, "Now, Grimes, you've got to behave like a gentleman. We don't want a court martial in this regiment. We're going to leave you alone for half an hour. There's your revolver. You know what to do. Good bye, old man," they said quite affectionately.
'Well, I sat there for some time looking at that revolver. I put it up to my head twice, but each time I brought it down again. "Public school men don't end like this," I said to myself. It was a long half hour, but luckily they had left a decanter of whisky in there with me. They'd all had a few, I think. That's what made them all so solemn. There wasn't much whisky left when they came back, and, what with that and the strain of the situation, I could only laugh when they came in. Silly thing to do, but they looked so surprised, seeing me there alive and drunk.
' "The man's a cad," said the colonel, but even then I couldn't stop laughing decorative wire mesh, so they put me under arrest and called a court martial.
'I must say I felt pretty low next day. A major came over from another battalion to try my case. He came to see me first, and bless me if it wasn't a cove I'd known at school.
' "God bless my soul," he said, "if it isn't Grimes of Podger's! What's all this nonsense about a court martial?" So I told him. "H'm," he said, "pretty bad. Still, it's out of the question to shoot an old Harrovian. I'll see what I can do about it." And next day I was sent to Ireland on a pretty cushy job connected with postal service. That saw me out as far as the war was concerned. You can't get into the soup in Ireland, do what you like. I don't know if all this bores you?'
'Not at all,' said Paul. 'I think it's most encouraging.'
'I've been in the soup pretty often since then, but never quite so badly. Someone always turns up and says, "I can't see a public school man down and out. Let me put you on your feet again." I should think,' said Grimes, 'I've been put on my feet more often than any living man.'
Philbrick came across the bar parlour towards them.
'Feeling lonely?' he said. 'I've been talking to the stationmaster here, and if either of you wants an introduction to a young lady '
'Certainly not,' said Paul.
'Oh, all right,' said Philbrick, making off.
'Women are an enigma,' said Grimes, 'as far as Grimes is concerned.'

Decline and Fall（2）Llanabba Castle

2008-11-26T17:30:00.000-08:00

CHAPTER II Llanabba Castle

LLANABBA CASTLE presents two quite different aspects, according as you approach it from the Bangor or the coast road. From the back it looks very much like any other large country house, with a great many windows and a terrace, and a chain of glass houses and the roofs of innumerable nondescript kitchen buildings, disappearing into the trees. But from the front and that is how it is approached from Llanabba station decorative wire mesh it is formidably feudal; one drives past at least a mile of machicolated wall before reaching the gates; these are towered and turreted and decorated with heraldic animals and a workable portcullis. Beyond them at the end of the avenue stands the Castle, a model of medieval impregnability.

The explanation of this rather striking contrast is simple enough. At the time of the cotton famine in the sixties Llanabba House was the property of a prosperous Lancashire millowner. His wife could not bear to think of their men starving; in fact, she and her daughters organized a little bazaar in their aid, though without any very substantial results. Her husband had read the Liberal economists and could not think of paying without due return. Accordingly 'enlightened self interest' found a way. An encampment of mill hands was settled in the park, and they were put to work walling the grounds and facing the house with great blocks of stone from a decorative wire meshneighbouring quarry. At the end of the American war they returned to their mills, and Llanabba House became Llanabba Castle after a great deal of work had been done very cheaply.
Driving up from the station in a little closed taxi, Paul saw little of all this. It was almost dark in the avenue and quite dark inside the house.
'I am Mr Pennyfeather,' he said to the butler. 'I have come here as a master.'
'Yes,' said the butler, 'I know all about you. This way.'
They went down a number of passages, unlit and smelling obscurely of all the ghastly smells of school, until they reached a brightly lighted door.
'In there. That's the Common Room.' Without more ado, the butler made off into the darkness.
Paul looked round. It was not a very big room. Even he felt that, and all his life he had been accustomed to living in constricted spaces.
'I wonder how many people live here,' he thought, and with a sick thrust of apprehension counted sixteen pipes in a rack at the side of the chimneypiece. Two gowns hung on a hook behind the door. In a corner were some golf clubs, a walking stick, an umbrella, and two miniature rifles. Over the chimneypiece was a green baize notice board covered with lists; there was a typewriter on the table. In a bookcase were a number of very old textbooks and some new exercise books. There were also a bicycle pump, two armchairs, a straight chair, half a bottle of invalid port, a boxing glove, a bowler hat, yesterday's Daily News, and a packet of pipe cleaners.
Paul sat down disconsolately on the straight chair.decorative wire mesh
Presently there was a knock at the door, and a small boy came in.
'Oh!' he said, looking at Paul intently.
'Hullo!' said Paul.
'I was looking for Captain Grimes,' said the little boy.
'Oh!' said Paul.
The child continued to look at Paul with a penetrating, impersonal interest.
'I suppose you're the new master?' he said.
'Yes,' said Paul. 'I'm called Pennyfeather.'
The little boy gave a shrill laugh. 'I think that's terribly funny,' he said, and went away.
Presently the door opened again, and two more boys looked in. They stood and giggled for a time and then made off.
In the course of the next half hour six or seven boys appeared on various pretexts and stared at Paul.
Then a bell rang, and there was a terrific noise of whistling and scampering. The door opened, and a very short man of about thirty came into the Common Room. He had made a great deal of noise in coming because he had an artificial leg. He had a short red decorative wire mesh moustache, and was slightly bald.
'Hullo!' he said.
'Hullo!' said Paul.
'I'm Captain Grimes,' said the newcomer, and 'Come in, you,' he added to someone outside.
Another boy came in.
'What do you mean,' said Grimes, 'by whistling when I told you to stop?'
'Everyone else was whistling,' said the boy.
'What's that got to do with it?' said Grimes.
'I should think it had a lot to do with it,' said the boy.
'Well, just you do a hundred lines, and next time, remember, I shall beat you,' said Grimes, 'with this,' said Grimes, waving the walking stick.
'That wouldn't hurt much,' said the boy, and went out.
'There's no discipline in the place,' said Grimes, and then he went out too.
'I wonder whether I'm going to enjoy being a schoolmaster,' thought Paul.
Quite soon another and older man came into the room.
'Hullo!' he said to Paul.
'Hullo!' said Paul.
'I'm Prendergast,' said the newcomer. 'Have some port?'
'Thank you, I'd love to.'
'Well, there's only one glass.'
'Oh, well, it doesn't matter, then.'
'You might get your tooth glass from your bedroom.'
'I don't know where that is.'
'Oh, well, never mind; we'll have some another night. I suppose you're the new master?'
'Yes.'
'You'll hate it here. I know. I've been here ten years. Grimes only came this term. He hates it already. Have you seen Grimes?'
'Yes, I think so.'
'He isn't a gentleman. Do you smoke?'
'Yes.'
'A pipe, I mean.'
'Yes.'
'Those are my pipes. Rernind me to show them to you after dinner.'
At this moment the butler appeared with a message that Dr Fagan wished to see Mr Pennyfeather.
Dr Fagan's part of the Castle was more palatial. He stood at the end of a long room decorative wire mesh with his back to a rococo marble chimneypiece; he wore a velvet dinner jacket.
'Settling in?' he asked.
'Yes,' said Paul.
Sitting before the fire, with a glass bottle of sweets in her lap, was a brightly dressed woman in early middle age.
'That,' said Dr Fagan with some disgust, 'is my daughter.'
'Pleased to meet you,' said Miss Fagan. 'Now what I always tells the young chaps as comes here is, "Don't let the dad overwork you." He's a regular Tartar, is Dad, but then you know what scholars are inhuman. Ain't you,' said Miss Fagan, turning on her father with sudden ferocity 'ain't you inhuman?'
'At times, my dear, I am grateful for what little detachment I have achieved. But here,' he added, 'is my other daughter.'
Silently, except for a scarcely perceptible jingling of keys, another woman had entered the room. She was younger than her sister, but far less gay.
'How do you do?' she said. 'I do hope you have brought some soap with you. I asked my father to tell you, but he so often forgets these things. Masters are not supplied with soap or with boot polish or with washing over two shillings and sixpence weekly. Do you take sugar in your tea?'
'Yes, usually.'
'I will make a note of that and have two extra lumps put out for you. Don't let the boys get them, though.'decorative wire mesh
'I have put you in charge of the fifth form for the rest of this term,' said Dr Fagan. 'You will find them delightful boys, quite delightful. Clutterbuck wants watching, by the way, a very delicate little chap. I have also put you in charge of the games, the carpentering class, and the fire drill. And I forgot, do you teach music?'
'No, I'm afraid not.'
'Unfortunate, most unfortunate. I understood from Mr Levy that you did. I have arranged for you to take Beste Chetwynde in organ lessons twice a week. Well, you must do the best you can. There goes the bell for dinner. I won't detain you. Oh, one other thing. Not a word to the boys, please, about the reasons for your leaving Oxford! We schoolmasters must temper discretion with deceit. There, I fancy I have said something decorative wire mesh for you to think about. Good night.'
'Tootle oo,' said the elder Miss Fagan.

Decline and Fall（1）Vocation

2008-11-24T17:02:00.000-08:00

PART ONE

CHAPTER I Vocation

'SENT down for indecent behaviour, eh?' said Paul Pennyfeather's guardian. 'Well, thank God your poor father has been spared this disgrace. That's all I can say.'
There was a hush in Onslow Square, unbroken except by Paul's guardian's daughter's gramophone playing Gilbert and Sullivan in her little pink boudoir at the top of the stairs.
'My daughter must know nothing of this,' continued Paul's guardian.
There was another pause.Decorative wire mesh
'Well,' he resumed, 'you know the terms of your father's will. He left the sum of five thousand pounds, the interest of which was to be devoted to your education and the sum to be absolutely yours on your twenty first birthday. That, if I am right, falls in eleven months' time. In the event of your education being finished before that time, he left me with complete discretion to withhold this allowance should I not consider your course of life satisfactory. I do not think that I should be fulfilling the trust which your poor father placed in me if, in the present circumstances, I continued any allowance. Moreover, you will be the first to realize how impossible it would be for me to ask you to share the same Home with my daughter.'
'But what is to happen to me?' said Paul.
'I think you ought to find some work,' said his guardian thoughtfully. 'Nothing like it for taking the mind off nasty subjects.'
'But what kind of work?'
'Just work, good healthy toil. You have led too sheltered a life, Paul. Perhaps I am to blame. It will do you the world of good to face facts a bit look at life in the raw, you know. See things steadily and see them whole, eh?' And Paul's guardian lit another cigar.
'Have I no legal right to any money at all?' asked Paul.
'None whatever, my dear boy,' said his guardian quite cheerfully....
That spring Paul's guardian's daughter had two new evening frocks and, thus glorified, became engaged to a well conducted young man in the Office of Works.Decorative wire mesh
*
'Sent down for indecent behaviour, eh?' said Mr Levy, of Church and Gargoyle, scholastic agents. 'Well, I don't think we'll say anything about that. In fact, officially, mind, you haven't told me. We call that sort of thing "Education discontinued for personal reasons", you understand.' He picked up the telephone. 'Mr Samson, have we any "education discontinued" posts, male, on hand?... Right!... Bring it up, will you? I think,' he added, turning again to Paul, 'we have just the thing for you.'
A young man brought in a slip of paper.
'What about that?'
Paul read it:
Private and Confidential Notice of Vacancy.
Augustus Fagan, Esquire, Ph.D., Llanabba Castle, N. Wales, requires immediately Junior assistant master to teach Classics and English to University Standard with subsidiary Mathematics, German and French. Experience essential; first class games essential.
Status of School: School.Decorative wire mesh
Salary offered: £120 resident post.
Reply promptly but carefully to Dr Fagan ('Esq., Ph.D.,' on envelope), enclosing copies of testimonials and photographs, if considered advisable, mentioning that you have heard of the vacancy through us.
'Might have been made for you,' said Mr Levy.
'But I don't know a word of German, I've had no experience, I've got no testimonials, and I can't play cricket.'
'It doesn't do to be too modest,' said Mr Levy. 'It's wonderful what one can teach when one tries. Why, only last term we sent a man who had never been in a laboratory in his life as senior science Master to one of our leading public schools. He came wanting to do private coaching in music. He's doing very well, I believe. Besides, Dr Fagan can't expect all that for the salary he's offering. Between ourselves, Llanabba hasn't a good name in the profession. We class schools, you see, into four grades: Leading School, First rate School, Good School, and School. Frankly,' said Mr Levy, 'School is pretty bad. I think you'll find it a very suitable post. So far as I know, there are only two other candidates, and one of them is totally deaf, poor fellow.'
*
Next day Paul went to Church and Gargoyle to interview Dr Fagan. He had not long to wait. Dr Fagan was already there interviewing the other candidates. After a few minutes Mr Levy led Paul into the room, introduced him, and left them together.Decorative wire mesh
'A most exhausting interview,' said Dr Fagan. 'I am sure he was a very nice young man, but I could not make him understand a word I said. Can you hear me quite clearly?'
'Perfectly, thank you.'
'Good; then let us get to Business.'
Paul eyed him shyly across the table. He was very tall and very old and very well dressed; he had sunken eyes and rather long white hair over jet black eyebrows. His head was very long, and swayed lightly as he spoke; his voice had a thousand modulations, as though at some remote time he had taken lessons in elocution; the backs of his hands were hairy, and his fingers were crooked like claws.
'I understand you have had no previous experience?'
'No, sir, I am afraid not.'
'Well, of course, that is in many ways an advantage. One too easily acquires the professional tone and loses vision. But of course we must be practical. I am offering a salary of one hundred and twenty pounds, but only to a man with experience. I have a letter here from a young man who holds a diploma in forestry. He wants an extra ten pounds a year on the strength of it, but it is vision I need, Mr Pennyfeather, not diplomas. I understand, too, that you left your University rather suddenly. Now why was that?'Decorative wire mesh
This was the question that Paul had been dreading, and, true to his training, he had resolved upon honesty.
'I was sent down, sir, for indecent behaviour.'
'Indeed, indeed? Well, I shall not ask for details. I have been in the scholastic profession long enough to know that nobody enters it unless he has some very good reason which he is anxious to conceal. But, again to be practical, Mr Pennyfeather, I can hardly pay one hundred and twenty pounds to anyone who has been sent down for indecent behaviour. Suppose that we fix your salary at ninety pounds a year to begin with? I have to return to Llanabba to night. There are six more weeks of term, you see, and I have lost a master rather suddenly. I shall expect you to morrow evening. There is an excellent train from Euston that leaves at about ten. I think you will like your work,' he continued dreamily, 'you will find that my school is built upon an ideal an ideal of service and fellowship. Many of the boys come from the very best families. Little Lord Tangent has come to us this term, the Earl of Circumference's son, you know. Such a nice little chap, erratic, of course, like all his family, but he has tone.' Dr Fagan gave a long sigh. 'I wish I could say the same for my staff. Between ourselves, Pennyfeather, I think I shall have to get rid of Grimes fairly soon. He is not out of the top drawer, and boys notice these things. Now, your predecessor was a thoroughly agreeable young man. I was sorry to lose him. But he used to wake up my daughters coming back on his motor bicycle at all hours of the night. He used to borrow money from the boys, too, quite large sums, and the parents objected. I had to get rid of him.... Still, I was very sorry. He had tone.'
Dr Fagan rose, put on his hat at a jaunty angle, and drew on a glove.
'Good bye, my dear Pennyfeather. I think, in fact I know, that we are going to work well together. I can always tell these things.'Decorative wire mesh
'Good bye, sir,' said Paul....
'Five per cent of ninety pounds is four pounds ten shillings,' said Mr Levy cheerfully. 'You can pay now or on receipt of your first term's salary. If you pay now there is a reduction of 15 per cent. That would be three pounds six shillings and sixpence.'
'I'll pay you when I get my wages,' said Paul.
'Just as you please,' said Mr Levy. 'Only too glad to have been of use to you.'

Decline and Fall(0)PRELUDE

2008-11-18T19:48:00.000-08:00

PRELUDE

MR SNIGGS, the Junior Dean, and Mr Postlethwaite, the Domestic Bursar, sat alone in Mr Sniggs' room overlooking the garden quad at Scone college. From the rooms of Sir Alastair Digby Vane Trumpington, two staircases away, came a confused roaring and breaking of glass. They alone of the senior members of Scone were at Home that evening, for it was the night of the annual dinner of the Bollinger Club. Decorative wire meshThe others were all scattered over Boar's Hill and North Oxford at gay, contentious little parties, or at other senior common rooms, or at the meetings of learned societies, for the annual Bollinger dinner is a difficult time for those in authority.
It is not accurate to call this an annual event, because quite often the Club is suspended for some years after each meeting. There is tradition behind the Bollinger; it numbers reigning kings among its past members. At the last dinner, three years ago, a fox had been brought in in a cage and stoned to death with champagne bottles. What an evening that had been! This was the first meeting since then, and from all over Europe old members had rallied for the occasion. For two days they had been pouring into Oxford: epileptic royalty from their villas of exile; uncouth peers from crumbling country seats; smooth young men of uncertain tastes from embassies and legations; illiterate lairds from wet granite hovels in the Highlands; ambitious young barristers and Conservative candidates torn from the London season and the indelicate advances of debutantes; all that was most sonorous of name and title was there for the beano.
'The fines!' said Mr Sniggs, gently rubbing his pipe along the side of his nose. 'Oh my! the fines there'll be after this evening!' Decorative wire mesh
There is some highly prized port in the senior commonroom cellars that is only brought up when the college fines have reached £50.
'We shall have a week of it at least,' said Mr Postlethwaite, 'a week of Founder's port.'
A shriller note could now be heard rising from Sir Alastair's rooms; any who have heard that sound will shrink at the recollection of it; it is the sound of the English county families baying for broken glass. Soon they would all be tumbling out into the quad, crimson and roaring in their bottle green evening coats, for the real romp of the evening.
'Don't you think it might be wiser if we turned out the light?' said Mr Sniggs.
In darkness the two dons crept to the window. The quad below was a kaleidoscope of dimly discernible faces.
'There must be fifty of them at least,' said Mr Postlethwaite. 'If only they were all members of the college! Fifty of them at ten pounds each. Oh my!'
'It'll be more if they attack the Chapel,' said Mr Sniggs. 'Oh, please God, make them attack the Chapel.'
'I wonder who the unpopular undergraduates are this term. They always attack their rooms. I hope they have been wise enough to go out for the evening.'
'I think Partridge will be one; he possesses a painting by Matisse or some such name.'
'And I'm told he has black sheets on his bed.' Decorative wire mesh
'And Sanders went to dinner with Ramsay MacDonald once.'
'And Rending can afford to hunt, but collects china instead.'
'And smokes cigars in the garden after breakfast.'
'Austen has a grand piano.'
'They'll enjoy smashing that.'
'There'll be a heavy bill for to night; just you see! But I confess I should feel easier if the Dean or the Master were in. They can't see us from here, can they?'
It was a lovely evening. They broke up Mr Austen's grand piano, and stamped Lord Rending's cigars into his carpet, and smashed his china, and tore up Mr Partridge's sheets, and threw the Matisse into his waterjug; Mr Sanders had nothing to break except his windows, but they found the manuscript at which he had been working for the Newdigate Prize Poem, and had great fun with that. Sir Alastair Digby Vane Trumpington felt quite ill with excitement, and was supported to bed by Lumsden of Strathdrummond. It was half past eleven. Soon the evening would come to an end. But there was still a treat to come. Decorative wire mesh
*
Paul Pennyfeather was reading for the Church. It was his third year of uneventful residence at Scone. He had come there after a creditable career at a small public school of ecclesiastical temper on the South Downs, where he had edited the magazine, been President of the Debating Society, and had, as his report said, 'exercised a wholesome influence for good' in the House in which he was head boy. At Home he lived in Onslow Square with his guardian, a prosperous solicitor who was proud of his progress and abysmally bored by his company. Both his parents had died in India at the time when he won the essay prize at his preparatory school. For two years he had lived within his allowance, aided by two valuable scholarships. He smoked three ounces of tobacco a week - John Cotton, Medium and drank a pint and a half of beer a day, the half at luncheon and the pint at dinner, a meal he invariably ate in Hall. He had four friends, three of whom had been at school with him. None of the Bollinger Club had ever heard of Paul Pennyfeather, and he, oddly enough, had not heard of them.
Little suspecting the incalculable consequences that the evening was to have for him, he bicycled happily back from a meeting of the League of Nations Union. There had been a most interesting paper about plebiscites in Poland. He thought of smoking a pipe and reading another chapter of the Forsyte Saga before going to bed. He knocked at the gate, was admitted, put away his bicycle, and diffidently, as always, made his way across the quad towards his rooms. What a lot of people there seemed to be about! Paul had no particular objection to drunkenness he had read a rather daring paper to the Thomas More Society on the subject but he was consumedly shy of drunkards. Decorative wire mesh
Out of the night Lumsden of Strathdrummond swayed across his path like a druidical rocking stone. Paul tried to pass.
Now it so happened that the tie of Paul's old school bore a marked resemblance to the pale blue and white of the Bollinger Club. The difference of a quarter of an inch in the width of the stripes was not one that Lumsden of Strathdrummond was likely to appreciate.
'Here's an awful man wearing the Boller tie,' said the Laird. It is not for nothing that since pre Christian times his family had exercised chieftainship over unchartered miles of barren moorland.
Mr Sniggs was looking rather apprehensively at Mr Postlethwaite.
'They appear to have caught somebody,' he said. 'I hope they don't do him any serious harm.'
'Dear me, can it be Lord Reading? I think I ought to intervene.'
'No, Sniggs,' said Mr Postlethwaite, laying a hand on his impetuous colleague's arm. 'No, no, no. It would be unwise. We have the prestige of the senior common-room to consider. In their present state they might not prove amenable to discipline. We must at all costs avoid an outrage.'
At length the crowd parted, and Mr Sniggs gave a sigh of relief.
'But it's quite all right. It isn't Reading. It's Pennyfeather someone of no importance.'
'Well, that saves a great deal of trouble. I am glad, Sniggs; I am, really. What a lot of clothes the young man appears to have lost!'
*
Next morning there was a lovely college meeting.
'Two hundred and thirty pounds,' murmured the Domestic Bursar ecstatically, 'not counting the damages! That means five evenings, with what we have already collected. Five evenings of Founder's port!' Decorative wire mesh
'The case of Pennyfeather,' the Master was saying, 'seems to be quite a different matter altogether. He ran the whole length of the quadrangle, you say, without his trousers. It is unseemly. It is more: it is indecent. In fact, I am almost prepared to say that it is flagrantly indecent. It is not the conduct we expect of a scholar.'
'Perhaps if we fined him really heavily?' suggested the Junior Dean.
'I very much doubt whether he could pay. I understand he is not well off. Without trousers, indeed! And at that time of night! I think we should do far better to get rid of him altogether. That sort of young man does the college no good.'
*
Two hours later, while Paul was packing his three suits in his little leather trunk, the Domestic Bursar sent a message that he wished to see him.
'Ah, Mr Pennyfeather,' he said, 'I have examined your rooms and noticed two slight burns, one on the window-sill and the other on the chimney piece, no doubt from cigarette ends. I am charging you five and sixpence for each of them on your battels. That is all, thank you.'
As he crossed the quad Paul met Mr Sniggs.
'Just off?' said the Junior Dean brightly.
'Yes, sir,' said Paul.
And a little farther on he met the Chaplain.
'Oh, Pennyfeather, before you go, surely you have my copy of Dean Stanley's Eastern Church?'
'Yes. I left it on your table.' Decorative wire mesh
'Thank you. Well, good bye, my dear boy. I suppose that after that reprehensible affair last night you will have to think of some other profession. Well, you may congratulate yourself that you discovered your unfitness for the priesthood before it was too late. If a parson does a thing of that sort, you know, all the world knows. And so many do, alas! What do you propose doing?'
'I don't really know yet.'
'There is always commerce, of course. Perhaps you may be able to bring to the great world of Business some of the ideals you have learned at Scone. But it won't be easy, you know. It is a thing to be lived down with courage. What did Dr Johnson say about fortitude?... Dear, dear! no trousers!'
At the gates Paul tipped the porter.
'Well, good bye, Blackall,' he said. 'I don't suppose I shall see you again for some time.'
'No, sir, and very sorry I am to hear about it. I expect you'll be becoming a schoolmaster, sir. That's what most of the gentlemen does, sir, that gets sent down for indecent behaviour.'
'God damn and blast them all to hell,' said Paul meekly to himself as he drove to the station, and then he felt rather ashamed, because he rarely swore.Decorative wire mesh

The Opal Deception(11)HORSE SENSE(2)

2008-11-15T00:51:00.000-08:00

The clay he consumed was broken and aerated from the rod’s drilling action, and Mulch was glad for that extra air. He converted it to wind, using it to boost himself upward.
Mulch increased his pace, pumping the air and clay through his recycling passages. Opal would only be distracted by the shuttle for so long before it occurred to her that it was a diversion. The rod thickened as he went along, until he arrived at a rubber seal in the belly of the shuttle itself, which was raised on three retractable legs two feet off the ground.
When the shuttle was in flight, this seal would be covered by a metal panel; but the shuttle was not in flight at the moment, and the sensors were turned off.
Mulch climbed from his tunnel and rehinged his jaw.Decorative wire mesh
This was precision work and he needed fine control of his teeth. Rubber was not a recommended part of a dwarf’s diet, and so could not be swallowed. Half-digested rubber could seal up his insides as effectively as a barrel of glue.
It was an awkward bite. Difficult to get a grip. Mulch flattened his cheek against the battery rod, worming upward until his incisors could get some purchase on the seal. He bore down on the heavy rubber, rotating his jaw in small circles until his upper tooth broke through. Then he ground his teeth, enlarging the rent until there was a six-inch tear in the rubber. Now Mulch could get one side of his mouth into the gap. He tore off large chunks, careful to spit them out immediately.
In less than a minute Mulch had torn a foot-square hole. Just enough for him to squeeze through.
Anyone unfamiliar with dwarfs would have bet money that Mulch would never squeeze his well-fed bulk through such a narrow aperture, but they would have lost their cash.
Dwarfs have spent millennia escaping from cave-ins, and have developed the ability to squeeze through tighter holes than this one.
Mulch sucked in his gut and wiggled through the torn seal, headfirst. He was glad to be out of the faint, morning sunlight. Sun was another thing dwarfs did not like. After mere minutes in direct sunlight, a dwarf’s skin would be redder than a boiled lobster’s. He shinned along the battery rod into the shuttle’s engine compartment. Most of the small space was taken up with flat batteries and a hydrogen generator. There was an access hatch overhead that led into the cargo bay. Light ropes ran the length of the compartment, giving off pale green light. Any radiation leak from the generator would show up purple.Decorative wire mesh
The reason that the light ropes were still working without power was that illumination was supplied by specially cultivated decaying algae. Not that Mulch knew any of this; he just knew that the light was very similar to the luminescence from dwarf spittle, and the familiarity made him relax. He relaxed a bit too much, as it happened, allowing a small squib of tunnel gas to escape through his bum-flap. Hopefully nobody would notice that…
Maybe half a minute later, he heard Opal’s voice from outside.
‘Now, whoever is passing wind, please stop it, or I will devise a fitting punishment.“
Oops, thought Mulch guiltily. In dwarf circles it is considered almost criminal to allow someone else to be blamed for your air bubbles. Through sheer force of habit, Mulch almost raised his hand and confessed, but luckily his instinct for self-preservation was stronger than his conscience.
Moments later the signal came. It was hard to miss. The explosion rocked the entire shuttle twenty degrees off center. It was time to make his move and trust Artemis when he said that it was almost impossible not to watch an explosion.
Mulch nudged the hatch open a crack with the crown of his head. The dwarf half expected someone to stamp on the hatch, but the cargo bay was empty. Mulch folded the hatch back and crept all the way into the small chamber. There was a lot here to interest him.
Crates of ingots, Perspex boxes of human currency, and antique jewelry hanging from mannequins. Obviously Opal did not intend on being poor in her new role as a human. Mulch snagged a single diamond earring from a nearby bust. So Artemis had told him not to take anything. So what? One earring wouldn’t slow him down.Decorative wire mesh
Mulch popped the pigeon’s egg-size diamond into his mouth and swallowed. He could pass that later when he was on his own. Until then it could lodge in his stomach wall, and it would come out shinier than it went in.
Another explosion bucked the floor beneath his feet, reminding Mulch to move on. He crossed to the bay door, which was slightly ajar. The next chamber was the passenger area, and it was just as plush as Holly had described. Mulch’s lips rippled at the sight of fur-covered chairs. Repulsive.
Beyond the passenger area was the cockpit. Opal and her two friends were clearly visible, staring intently out of the front windshield. They were making not a sound, and saying not a word. Just as Artemis had said.
Mulch dropped to his knees and crawled across the lounge’s carpet. He was now completely exposed.
If one of the pixies decided to turn around, he would be stranded in the center of the lounge with nothing but a smile to hide behind.Decorative wire mesh
Just keep going and don’t think about that, Mulch told himself.
If Opal catches you, pretend you’re lost or have amnesia, or just came out of a coma. Maybe she’ll sympathize, give you some gold, and send you on your way. Yeah, right.
Something creaked slightly beneath Mulch’s knee.
The dwarf froze, but the pixies didn’t react to the sound. Presumably that was the lid of the booty box.
Opal’s little hidey hole. Mulch crawled around the box. If there was one thing he didn’t need, it was more creaks.
Two shaped charges lay on a chair, level with Mulch’s nose. He couldn’t believe it. Right there, less than a yard away. This was the one part of the plan that relied on luck. If one of the Brill brothers had the charge tucked under his arm or if there were more charges than he could carry, then they would have to ram the shuttle and hope to disable her. But here it was, almost begging to be stolen.Decorative wire mesh
When he was committing a robbery, Mulch often gave voices to the objects he was about to steal. This, he knew, would sound a little crazy to the rest of the world, but he spent a lot of time on his own and he needed someone to talk to.
Come on, Mister Handsome Dwarf, said one of the charges in a breathy falsetto.
I’m waiting. I don’t like it here you know. Please rescue me.
Very well, Madame, said Mulch silently, taking the bag from inside his shirt.
I’ll take you, but we’re not going very Jar.
Me, too, said the other charge. still want to go, too.
Don’t worry, ladies. Where you’re going, there’s plenty of room for both of you.
When Mulch Diggums crept out through the torn seal a minute later, the charges were no longer on the chair. In their place was a small handheld communicator.
The three pixies sat quietly in the stealth shuttle’s cockpit One was concentrating on the transport craft hovering two hundred yards off their bows. The other two were concentrating on not passing wind, and not thinking about not passing wind.
The transport shuttle’s side entrance opened, and something winked in the morning light as it tumbled earthward. Seconds later the something exploded, rocking the stealth shuttle on its suspension bags.Decorative wire mesh
The Brill brothers gasped, and Opal cuffed them both on the ear.
Opal was not worried. They were searching. Shooting in the dark, or very close to it. Maybe in thirty minutes there would be enough light to see the ship with the naked eye, but until then they were blending very nicely with the surrounding countryside, thanks to a hull made from stealth ore and cam-foil. Fowl must have guessed where they were because of this chute’s proximity to the probe. But all he had was an approximation. Of course it would be delightful to blast them out of the air, but plasma bursts would light up Foaly’s satellite scanners and paint a bull’s- eye on their hull.
She plucked a digi-pad and pen from the dash and scrawled a message on it.
Stay quiet and calm. Even if one of those charges hits us, it will not penetrate the hull.
Mervall took the pad.Decorative wire mesh
Maybe we should leave. Mud Men will be coming.
Opal wrote a response.
Dear Mervall, please don’t start thinking; you will hurt your head. We wait until they leave. At this close range, they could actually hear our engines starting.
Another explosion rocked the stealth shuttle.
Opal felt a bead of sweat roll down her forehead. This was ridiculous: she didn’t perspire, certainly not in front of the help. In five minutes the humans would come to investigate.
It was their nature. So she would wait five minutes, then try to slip past the LEP shuttle, and if she couldn’t slip past, then she would blast them out of the sky and take her chances with the supersonic shuttle that would no doubt come to investigate.
More grenades dropped from the LEP craft, but they were farther away now, and the shock waves barely caused a shudder in the stealth shuttle. This went on for two or three minutes without the remotest danger to Opal or the Brills, then suddenly the transport shuttle sealed its door and peeled off back down the chute.
‘Hmm,“ said Opal. ”Surprising.“
‘Maybe they ran out of ammunition,“ offered Merv, though he knew that Opal would punish him for offering an opinion.Decorative wire mesh
‘Is that what you think, Mervall? They ran out of explosives and so they decided just to let us go? Do you really imagine that to be true, you imbecilic excuse for a sentient being? Don’t you have any frontal lobes?“
‘I was just playing devil’s advocate,“ mumbled Merv weakly.
Opal rose from her seat, waving a hand at each Brill brother. “Just shut up. I need to talk to myself for a minute.” She paced the narrow cockpit.
‘What’s going on here? They track us to the chute, then put on a big fireworks display, then leave. Just like that. Why? Why?“
She rubbed both temples with a knuckle.
‘Think.“ Suddenly Opal remembered something.
‘Last night. A shuttle was stolen in E1. We heard about it on the police band. Who stole it?“
Scant shrugged. “I dunno. Some dwarf. Is it important?”
‘That’s right. A dwarf. And wasn’t there a dwarf involved in the Artemis Fowl siege? And weren’t there rumors of the same dwarf helping Julius to break into Koboi labs?“
‘Rumors. No actual evidence.“Decorative wire mesh
Opal turned on Scant. “Maybe that’s because, unlike you, this dwarf is smart. Maybe he doesn’t want to be caught.” The pixie took a moment to connect the dots. “So they have a dwarf burglar, a shuttle, and explosives. Holly must know that those pathetic grenades can’t penetrate our hull, so why drop them? Unless…”
The truth hit her like a physical blow in the stomach. “Oh no,” she gasped. “Distraction. We sat here like fools watching the pretty lights.And all the time…“
She heaved Scant aside, rushing past him to the lounge.
‘The charges,“ she shrieked. ”Where are they?“
Scant went straight to the chair. “Don’t worry, Miss Koboi, they’re right-was He stopped, the sentence’s final word stuck in his throat.
‘I, ah, they were right there. In the chair.“
Opal picked up the small handheld radio.
‘They’re toying with me. Tell me you put the backup somewhere safe.“
‘No,“ said Scant miserably. ”They were together.“
Merv pushed past him into the cargo bay. “The engine compartment is open.” He stuck his head through the hatch. His voice wafted up, muffled by the floor panels. “The battery rod seal has been ripped apart. And there are footprints. Someone came through here.”
Opal threw back her head and screamed. She held it for a long time for such a small individual.
Finally her breath ran out. “Follow the shuttle,” she gasped when her wind returned. “I modified those charges myself and they cannot be disarmed. We can still detonate. At the very least we will destroy my enemies.”Decorative wire mesh
‘Yes, Miss Koboi,“ said Merv and Scant together.
‘Don’t look at me,“ howled Opal.
The Brill brothers fled to the cockpit, trying to simultaneously bow, look at their feet, not think anything dangerous, and above all, not pass wind.

Mulch was waiting at the rendezvous site when the LEP shuttle arrived. Butler opened the door and hauled the dwarf in by the collar.
‘Did you get it?“ asked Artemis anxiously.
Mulch passed him the bulging bag. “Right here.
And before you ask, I left the radio.“
‘So everything went according to plan?“
‘Completely,“ replied Mulch, neglecting to mention the diamond nestled in his stomach wall.
‘Excellent,“ said Artemis, striding past the dwarf to the cockpit.
‘Go,“ he shouted, thumping Holly’s headrest.
Holly already had the shuttle ticking over, and was holding it with the brake.
‘We’re gone,“ she said, releasing the brake and flooring the throttle. The LEP craft bolted from the rocky outcrop like a pebble from a catapult.Decorative wire mesh
Artemis’s legs were dragged from the floor, flapping behind him like windsocks. The rest of him would have followed if he hadn’t held on to the headrest.
‘How much time do we have?“ asked Holly, through lips rippled by G-force.
Artemis pulled himself into the passenger seat.
‘Minutes. The orebody will hit a depth of one hundred and five miles in precisely one quarter of an hour. Opal will be after us any second.“
Holly shadowed the chute wall, spinning between two towers of rock. The lower portion of E7 was quite straight, but this stretch corkscrewed through the crust, following the cracks in the plates.
‘Is this going to work, Artemis?“ said Holly.
Artemis pondered the question. “I considered eight plans, and this was the best one. Even so, we have a sixty- four percent chance of success. The key is to keep Opal distracted so she doesn’t discover the truth. That’s up to you, Holly. Can you do it?”
Holly wrapped her fingers around the wheel.
‘Don’t worry. It’s not often I get a chance to do some fancy flying. Opal will be so busy trying to catch us that she won’t have time to consider anything else.“
Artemis looked out of the windshield. They were pointing straight down toward the center of the earth.Decorative wire mesh
Gravity fluctuated at this depth and speed, so they were alternately pinned to their chairs and straining to be free of their seat belts. The chute’s blackness enveloped them like tar, except for the cone of light from the shuttle’s headlamps. Gigantic rock formations darted in and out of the cone heading straight for their nose. Somehow Holly steered them through, without once tapping the brake.
On the plasma dash, the icon representing the gaseous anomaly that was Opal’s ship inched across the screen.
‘They’re on to us,“ said Holly, catching the movement from the corner of one eye.
Artemis’s stomach was knotted from flight nausea anxiety, fatigue, and exhilaration. “Very well,” he said, almost to himself. “The chase is on.”

At the mouth of E7, Merv was at the wheel of the stealth shuttle. Scant was on instruments, and Opal was in charge of giving orders and general ranting.
‘Do we have a signal from the charge?“ she screeched from her chair.
Her voice is really getting annoying, thought Scant, but not too loudly. “No,” he replied.
‘Nothing. Which means it must be in the other shuttle.
Their shields must be blocking the charge’s signal.
We need to get closer, or I could send the detonation signal anyway; we might get lucky.“
Opal’s screech grew more strident. “No!Decorative wire mesh
We must not detonate before that shuttle reaches one hundred and five miles. If we do, the orebody will not change course. What about this stupid communicator? Anything from that?“
‘Negative,“ said Scant. ”If there’s another one, it must be switched off.“
‘We could always return to Zito’s compound,“ said Merv. ”We have a dozen more charges there.“
Opal leaned forward in her seat, punching Merv’s shoulders with her tiny fists. “Idiot. Moron.
Half-wit. Are you in some kind of stupidity competition? Is that it? If we return to Zito’s, the orebody will be too deep by the time we return. Not to mention the fact that Captain Short will present the LEP with her version of events and they will have to investigate, at the very least. We must get closer and we must detonate. Even if we miss the probe window, at least we destroy any witnesses against me.“
The stealth shuttle had proximity sensors linked into the navigating software, which meant that Opal and company did not have to worry about colliding with the chute wall or stalactites.
‘How long before we’re in detonation range?“
Opal barked. To be honest, it was more of a yip.
Merv did some quick calculations. “Three minutes. No more.”
‘How deep will they be at that point?“
A few more sums. “One hundred and fifty-five miles.”
Opal pinched her nose. “It could work. Presuming they have both charges, the resulting explosion, even if not directed as we planned, may be enough to blow a crack in the wall. It’s our only option. If it fails, at least we have time to regroup. As soon as they hit one hundred and five, send the detonate signal. Send it continuously. We may get lucky.“
Merv flipped a plastic safety cover off the DETONATE button. Only minutes to go.
Artemis’s insides were trying to force their way out his throat. “This heap needs new gyroscopes,” he said.Decorative wire mesh
Holly barely nodded, too busy concentrating on a particularly tricky series of jinks and loops in the chute.
Artemis consulted the dashboard’s readout.
‘We’re at a depth of one hundred and five now. Opal will be trying to detonate. She’s closing fast.“
Mulch stuck his head through from the passenger section.
‘Is all this jiggling about really necessary? I’ve had a lot to eat recently.“
‘Nearly there,“ said Artemis. ”The ride is just about over. Tell Butler to open the bag.“
‘Okay. Are you sure Opal will do what she’s supposed to?“
Artemis smiled reassuringly. “Of course I am. It’s human nature, and Opal is a human now, remember? Now, Holly. Pull over.”
Mervall tapped the readout. “You’re not going to believe this, Op… Miss Koboi.”
The merest hint of a smile flickered across Opal’s lips. “Don’t tell me. They have stopped.”
Merv shook his head, astounded. “Yes, they are hovering at one hundred and twenty-five. Why would they do that?”
‘There’s no point trying to explain it, Mervall. Just keep sending the detonation signal, but slow us down. I don’t want to be too close when we get a connection.“
She drummed her nails on the handheld communicator left behind by the dwarf. Any second now.
A red call light flashed on the communicator, accompanied by a slight vibration. Opal smiled, flipping open the walkie-talkie’s screen.
Artemis’s pale face filled the tiny screen.
He was trying to smile, but it was obviously forced.
‘Opal, I am giving you one chance to surrender. We have disarmed your charges and the LEP is on its way. It would be better for you to turn yourself over to Captain Short than shoot it out with an armed LEP ship.“Decorative wire mesh
Opal clapped her hands. “Bravo, Master Fowl, what a wonderful fiction. Now, why don’t I tell you the real truth. You have realized that the charges cannot be disarmed. The mere fact that I can receive your communication’s signal means that my detonation signal will soon penetrate your shields. You cannot simply jettison the explosives, or I will set them off in the chute, exactly as I had originally planned. Then I will simply fire a few heat seekers at your craft. And if you attempt further flight, then I will follow and penetrate your shields before you clear the parallel stretch. You are not in communication with the LEP. If you were, we would have picked up your broadcast. So your only alternative is this pathetic bluff. And it is pathetic. You are obviously attempting to stall me until the orebody passes your depth.”
‘So you refuse to surrender?“
Opal pretended to think about it, tapping her chin with a manicured nail. “Why, yes. I think I will fight on, against all odds. And by the way, please don’t look directly at the screen: it’s bad for my skin.”
Artemis sighed dramatically. “Well, if we have to go, at least we’ll go on full stomachs.”
This was an unusually cavalier comment to make with seconds to live, even for a human. “Full stomachs?”
‘Yes,“ said Artemis. ”Mulch took something else from your shuttle.“
He picked up a small chocolate-covered ball and wiggled it before the screen.
‘My truffles?“ gasped Opal. ”You took them. That’s just mean.“
Artemis popped the treat into his mouth and chewed slowly. “They really are divine. I can see why you missed them in the institute. We’re really going to have to work hard to eat all we took before you blow us to smithereens.”Decorative wire mesh
Opal hissed, catlike. “Killing you will be so easy.” She turned to Merv. “Do we have a signal yet?”
‘Nothing, Miss Koboi. But soon. If we have communications, it can’t be long now.“
Holly squeezed her head into the viewfinder. One cheek was swollen with truffles.
‘They really melt in the mouth, Opal. The condemned crew’s final meal.“
Opal actually poked the screen with her nail.
‘You survived twice, Short. You won’t do it again, I guarantee it.“
Holly laughed. “You should see Mulch. He’s shoveling those truffles down his gullet.”
Opal was livid. “Any signal?” Even now, with certain I destruction only moments away, they were still mocking her.
‘Not yet. Soon.“
‘Keep trying. Keep your finger on that button.“
Opal unstrapped herself and strode through to the lounge. The dwarf couldn’t have carried all the truffles and the explosives. Surely not. She had been so looking forward to a handful of the heavenly chocolate once Haven was destroyed.
She knelt on the carpet, worming her hand underneath the seam to the hidden catch. It popped beneath her fingers, and the booty box’s lid slid up and back.
There was not a single truffle left in the box.
Instead there were two shaped charges. For a moment Opal could not understand what she was seeing. Then it became terrifyingly clear. Artemis had not stolen the charges; he had simply told the dwarf to move them. Once in the booty box they could not be detected or detonated, as long as the lid was sealed. She had opened the box herself. Artemis had goaded her into sealing her own fate.Decorative wire mesh
The blood drained from Opal’s face.
‘Mervall,“ she screamed. ”The detonation signal!“
‘Don’t worry, Miss Koboi,“ the pixie shouted from the cockpit. ”We just got contact. Nothing can stop it now.“
Green countdown clocks activated on both charges and began counting back from twenty. A standard mining fuse.
Opal lurched into the cockpit. She had been tricked.
Duped. Now the charges would detonate uselessly at seventy-five miles, well above the parallel stretch. Of course her own shuttle would be destroyed and she would be left stranded, ready to be scooped up by the LEP. At least that was the theory.
But Opal Koboi never left herself without options.
She strapped herself into a seat in the cockpit.
‘I advise you to strap in,“ she said curtly to the Brill brothers. ”You have failed me. Enjoy prison.“
Merv and Scant barely had time to buckle up before Opal activated the ejector gel-pods under their seats. They were immediately immersed in a bubble of amber impact-gel and ejected through panels that had opened in the hull.
The impact-gel bubbles had no power source and relied on the initial gas propulsion to get them out of harm’s way. The gel was fireproof, blast resistant, and contained enough oxygen for thirty minutes of shallow breathing. Merv and Scant were catapulted through black space until they came into contact with the chute wall. The gel stuck to the rocky surface, leaving the Brill brothers stranded thousands of miles from Home.
Opal, meanwhile, was rapidly keying codes into the shuttle’s computer. She had less than ten seconds left to complete her final act of aggression. Artemis Fowl may have beaten her this time, but he wouldn’t live to gloat about it.
Opal expertly activated and launched two heat-seeking plasma rockets from the nose tubes, then launched her own escape pod. No plasma-gel for Opal Koboi. She had, of course, included a luxury pod in the ship’s design. Just one, though; no need for the help to travel in comfort. In fact, Opal didn’t care much what happened to the Brill brothers, one way or the other. They were of no further use to her.Decorative wire mesh
She opened the throttles wide, ignoring safety regulations. After all, who cared if she scorched the shuttle’s hull. It was about to get a lot more than just scorched. The pod streaked toward the surface at over five hundred miles per hour.
Pretty fast, but not fast enough to completely escape the shock wave from the two shaped charges.
The stealth shuttle exploded in a flash of multicolored light. Holly pulled the LEP shuttle close to the wall to avoid falling debris. After the shock waves had passed, the shuttle’s occupants waited in silence for the computer to run a scan on the stretch of chute above them. Eventually three red dots appeared on the 3-D representation of the chute. Two were static, the other was moving rapidly toward the surface.
‘They made it,“ sighed Artemis. ”I have no doubt that the moving dot is Opal. We should pick her up.“
‘We should,“ said Holly, not looking as happy as one would expect. ”But we won’t.“
Artemis picked up on Holly’s tone. “Why not? What’s wrong?”
‘That’s wrong,“ said Holly, pointing to the screen. Two more dots had appeared on the screen and were moving toward them at extreme speed. The computer identified the dots as missiles, and quickly ran a match in its database.
‘Heat-seeking plasma rockets. Locked on to our engines.“
Mulch shook his head. “That Koboi is a bitter little pixie. She couldn’t let it go.”
Artemis stared at the screen as if he could destroy the missiles through concentration. “I should have anticipated this.”
Butler poked his massive head past his charge’s shoulders. “Do you have any hot waffle to draw the missiles away?”
‘This is a transport shuttle,“ replied Holly. ”We were lucky to have shields.“
‘The missiles are coming after our heat signature?“
‘Yes,“ said Holly, hoping there was an idea on the way.
‘Is there any way to significantly alter that signature?“
An option occurred to Holly then. It was so extreme that she didn’t bother running it past the shuttle’s other occupants.Decorative wire mesh
‘There is one way,“ she said, and turned off the engines.
The shuttle dropped like a rock through the chute.
Holly tried to maneuver using the flaps, but without propulsion it was like trying to steer an anchor.
There was no time for fear or panic. There was only time to hang on to something and try to keep her last meal inside her body.
Holly gritted her teeth, swallowing the panic that was trying to claw its way out, and fought the steering wheel. If she could keep the flaps centered, then they shouldn’t collide with the chute walls.
At least this way, they had a chance.
She flicked her eyes toward the readouts. The core temperature was dropping, but would it be quickly enough? This section of the chute was reasonably straight, but there was a kink coming up in thirty-one miles, and they would crash into it like a fly hitting an elephant.
Butler crawled upward toward the rear of the ship.
On the way he snagged two fire extinguishers and popped their pins. He tossed the extinguishers into the engine room and closed the door. Through the hatch, he could see the extinguishers cartwheeling, covering the engine with freezing foam.
The engine temperature dropped another notch.
The missiles were closer now, and gaining.
Holly opened all the vents wide, flooding the shuttle with cool air. Another notch toward green on the temperature readout.Decorative wire mesh
‘Come on,“ she said through rippling lips. ”A few more degrees.“
They hurtled down and down, spinning into blackness.
Little by little the ship was drifting to starboard. Soon it would smash into the kink that rose to meet them.
Holly’s finger hovered over the ignition. She would wait until the last possible moment.
The engines cooled even further. They were efficient energy-saving units. When they were not in use, they quickly funneled excess heat to the life-support batteries. But still the missiles held their course.
The kink in the chute wall appeared in their headlights. It was bigger than an average mountain and composed of hard, unforgiving rock. If the shuttle crashed, it would crumple like a tin can.
Artemis squeezed words from between his lips. “Not working. Engines.”
‘Wait,“ Holly replied.
The flaps were vibrating now, and the shuttle went into a tumble. They could see the heat seekers roaring up behind them, then in front of them, then behind them again.
They were close to the rock now. Too close.
If Holly delayed even one more second, she would not have sufficient room to maneuver. She punched the ignition, veering to port at the last millisecond. The bow plates sent up an arc of sparks as they scraped along the rocky outcrop. Then they were free, zooming into the black void. That is, if you can count being pursued by two heat seekers as being free.
The engine temperature was still dropping and would be for maybe half a minute while the turbines heated up. Would it be enough? Holly punched the rear camera view up on the front screen. The rockets were still coming. Unrelenting. Purple fuel burning in their wake. Three seconds to impact.
Then two.
Then they lost contact, veering away from their target. One went over the top, the other under the keel.
‘It worked,“ sighed Artemis, releasing a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.
‘Well done, soldier,“ grinned Butler, ruffling Holly’s hair.
Mulch poked his head through from the passenger area.
His face was slightly green. “I had a little accident,” he said. No one inquired further.
‘Let’s not celebrate just yet,“ said Holly, checking her instruments. ”Those missiles should have detonated against the chute wall, but they didn’t.
I can only think of one reason why they wouldn’t keep traveling in a straight line.“
‘If they acquired another target,“ offered Butler.
A red dot appeared on the plasma screen. The two missiles were headed directly for it.
‘Exactly. That’s an LEP supersonic attack shuttle, and as far as they’re concerned, we’ve just opened fire on them.“
Major Trouble Kelp was behind the wheel of the LEP attack shuttle. The craft was traveling at more than three times the speed of sound, booming along the chute like a silver needle. Supersonic flights were very rarely cleared as they could cause cave-ins and, in rare cases, be detected by human seismographic equipment.
The shuttle’s interior was filled with impact-gel to dampen the otherwise bone-breaking vibration. Major Kelp was suspended in the gel in a modified pilot’s suit. The ship’s controls were connected directly to his gloves, and the video ran in to his helmet.
Foaly was in constant contact from Police Plaza.
‘Be advised that the stolen shuttle is back in the chute,“ he informed Trouble. ”It’s hovering at one hundred and twenty-five miles.“
‘I have it,“ said Trouble, locating the dot on his radar. He felt his heart race. There was a chance that Holly was alive and aboard that shuttle. And if that were true, he would do whatever it took to bring her Home safely.
A sunburst of white, yellow, and orange flared on his scopes.
‘We have an explosion of some kind. Was it the stolen shuttle?“
‘No, Trouble. It came from nowhere. There was nothing there. Watch out for debris.“
The screen was streaked with dozens of jagged yellow lines, as hot metal shards plummeted toward the center of the earth. Trouble activated the nose lasers, ready for anything that might head his way. It was unlikely that his vessel would be threatened; the chute was wider than the average city at this depth. The debris from the explosion would not spread more than half a mile. He had plenty of time to steer himself out of harm’s way.
Unless some of the debris followed him. Two of the yellow streaks were veering unnaturally in his direction. The onboard computer ran a scan.
Both items had propulsion and guidance systems.
Missiles.Decorative wire mesh
‘I am under fire,“ he said into his microphone. ”Two missiles incoming.“
Had Holly fired on him? Was it true what Sool said? Had she really gone bad?
Trouble reached into the air and tapped a virtual screen. He touched the representations for both missiles, targeting them for destruction. As soon as they came into range, the computer would hit them with a beam of laser fire. Trouble steered into the middle of the chute so that the lasers would have the longest possible line of fire. Lasers were only any good in a straight line.
Three minutes later, the missiles powered around the bend in the chute. Trouble barely spared them a glance, and the computer loosed two quick bursts, dispatching the missiles efficiently. Major Kelp flew straight through the shock wave, insulated by layers of impact-gel.
Another screen opened in his visor. It was the newly promoted Commander Ark Sool. “Major, you are authorized to return fire. Use all necessary force.”
Trouble scowled. “But, Commander, Holly may be on board.”
Sool raised a hand, silencing all objections.
‘Captain Short has made her allegiances clear. Fire at will.“
Foaly could not remain silent. “Hold your fire, Trouble. You know Holly isn’t behind all of this. Somehow Opal Koboi fired those missiles.”
Sool pounded the desk. “How can you be so blind to the truth, donkey boy? What does Short have to do to convince you she’s a traitor? Send you an e-mail? She has murdered her commander, allied herself with a felon, and fired on an LEP shuttle. Blast her out of the air.“
‘No!“ insisted Foaly. ”It sounds bad, I grant you. But there must be another explanation. Just give Holly a chance to tell us what it is.“
Sool was apoplectic. “Shut up, Foaly! What are you doing giving tactical orders? You are a civilian, now get off the line.“
‘Trouble, listen to me,“ began Foaly, but that was all he managed to say before Sool cut him off.
‘Now,“ said the commander, calming himself. ”You have your orders. Fire on that shuttle.“
The stolen shuttle was actually in view now.
Trouble magnified its image in his visor and immediately noticed three things. First, the shuttle’s communications mast was missing. Second, this was a transport shuttle and not rigged for missiles, and third, he could actually see Holly Short in the cockpit, her face drawn and defiant.
‘Commander Sool,“ he said. ”I think we have some extenuating circumstances here.“
‘I said fire!“ screeched Sool. ”You will obey me.“
‘Yes, sir,“ said Trouble, and fired.
Holly had watched the radar screen, following Opal’s missiles through unblinking eyes. Her fingers had gripped the steering wheel until the rubber squeaked. She did not relax until the needle-like attack shuttle destroyed the missiles and coasted through the wreckage.
‘No problem,“ she said, smiling bright eyed at the rest of the crew.
‘Not for him,“ said Artemis. ”But perhaps for us.“
The attack shuttle hovered off their port bow, sleek and deadly, bathing them with a dozen spotlights. Holly squinted into the pale light, trying to see who was in the captain’s chair. A tube opened and a metallic cone nosed out.
‘That’s not good,“ said Mulch. ”They’re going to fire at us.“
But strangely, Holly smiled. It is good, she thought. Someone down there likes me.
The communications spike traveled the short distance between the two shuttles, burying itself in the stolen craft’s hull. A quick-drying sealant erupted from nozzles at the base of the spike, sealing the breach, and the nose cone unscrewed itself and dropped to the floor with a clang. Underneath was a conical speaker.
Trouble Kelp’s voice filled the room.Decorative wire mesh
‘Captain Short, I have orders to blow you out of the air. Orders that I’d just as soon disobey. So start talking, and give me enough information to save both our careers.“
So Holly talked. She gave Trouble the condensed version. How this entire affair was orchestrated by Opal, and how they would pick her up if they searched the chute.
‘That’s enough to keep you alive, for now,“ said Trouble. ”Though, officially, you and any other shuttle occupants are under arrest until we find Opal Koboi.“
Artemis cleared his throat. “Excuse me. I don’t believe you have any jurisdiction over humans. It would be illegal to arrest me or my associate.”
Trouble sighed. Over the speaker it sounded like a rasp of sandpaper. “Let me guess:
Artemis Fowl, right? I should have known. You people are becoming quite the team. Well, let’s say you are a guest of the LEP, if that makes you any happier.
Now, a Retrieval squad is in the chute. They will take care of Opal and her associates. You follow me back to Haven.“
Holly wanted to object. She wanted to catch Opal herself. She wanted the personal pleasure of tossing the poisonous pixie into an actual jail cell.
And then throw away the key. But their position was precarious enough as it was, so for once she decided to follow orders.

E7, Haven City
Once they reached Haven, a squad of LEP foot soldiers boarded the shuttle to secure the prisoners. The police swaggered on board, barking orders. Then they saw Butler, and their cockiness evaporated like rainwater from a hot highway. They had been told that the human was big. But this was more than big. This was monstrous. Mountainous.
Butler smiled apologetically. “Don’t worry, little fairies. I have this effect on most humans too.”
The police breathed a collective sigh of relief when Butler agreed to go quietly. They could possibly have subdued him if he had put up a fight, but then the massive Mud Man might have fallen on someone.
The detainees were housed in the shuttleport’s executive lounge, evicting several grumbling lawyers and Business fairies. It was all very civil: good food, clean clothes (not for Butler ), and entertainment centers. But they were under guard, nevertheless.
Half an hour later, Foaly burst in to the lounge.
‘Holly!“ he said, wrapping a hairy arm around the elf. ”I am so happy that you’re alive.“
‘Me too, Foaly.“ Holly grinned.
‘A little hello wouldn’t hurt,“ said Mulch sulkily.” “How are you, Mulch? Long time no see, Mulch. Here’s your medal, Mulch.”“
‘Oh, all right,“ said Foaly, wrapping the other hairy arm around the equally hairy dwarf. ”Nice to see you too, Mulch, even if you did sink one of my subs. And no, no medal.“
‘Because of the sub,“ argued Mulch. ”If I hadn’t done it, your bones would be buried under a hundred million tons of molten iron right now.“
‘Good point,“ noted the centaur. ”I’ll mention it at your hearing.“ He turned to Artemis. ”I see you managed to cheat the mind wipe, Artemis.“
Artemis smiled. “A good thing for all of us.”
‘Indeed. I’ll never make the mistake of trying to wipe you again.“ He took Artemis’s hand and shook it warmly. ”You’ve been a friend to the People. You too, Butler.“
The bodyguard was hunched on a sofa, elbows on knees. “You can repay me by building a room I can stand up in.”Decorative wire mesh
‘I’m sorry about this,“ said Foaly apologetically. ”We don’t have rooms for people your size. Sool wants you all kept here until your story can be verified.“
‘How are things going?“ asked Holly.
Foaly pulled a file from inside his shirt.
‘I’m not actually supposed to be here, but I thought you’d like an update.“
They crowded around a table while Foaly laid out the reports.
‘We found the Brill brothers on the chute wall. They’re singing like stinkworms-so much for loyalty to your employer. Forensics have collected enough pieces of the stealth shuttle to prove its existence.“
Holly clapped her hands. “That’s it, then.”
‘It’s not airtight,“ corrected Artemis.
‘Without Opal, we could still be responsible for everything. The Brills could be lying to protect us. Do you have her?“
Foaly clenched his fists. “Well, yes and no.
Her escape pod was ruptured from the blast, so we could trace it. But by the time we reached the crash-down site on the surface, she had disappeared. We ran a thermal on the area and isolated Opal’s footprints. We followed them to a small rustic Homestead in the wine region near Bari. We can actually see her on satellite, but an insertion is going to take time to organize. She’s ours, and we will get her. But it may take a week.“
Holly’s face was dark with rage. “She’d better enjoy that week, because it will be the best of the rest of her life.”

Near Bari, Italy
Opal Koboi’s craft limped to the surface, leaking plasma gouts through its cracked generator.
Opal was well aware that this plasma was as good as a trail of arrows for Foaly. She must ditch the craft as soon as possible and find somewhere to lay low until she could access some of her funds.
She cleared the shuttleport and made it nearly ten miles across country before her engines seized, utterly forcing her to ditch in a vineyard. When she clambered from the pod, Opal found a tall tanned woman of perhaps forty waiting for her with a shovel and a furious expression on her face.
‘These are my vines,“ said the woman in Italian. ”The vines are my life. Who are you to crash here in your little airplane and destroy everything I have?“
Opal thought fast. “Where is your family?” she asked. “Your husband?”
The woman blew a strand of hair from her eye.
‘No family. No husband. I work the vines alone. I’m the last in the line. These vines mean more to me than my life, and certainly more to me than yours.“
‘You’re not alone,“ said Opal, turning on the hypnotic fairy mesmer.
‘You have me now. I am your daughter Belinda.“
Why not? she reasoned. If it worked once…
‘Belinda,“ said the woman slowly. ”I have a daughter?“
‘That’s right,“ agreed Opal. ”Belinda. Remember? We work these vines together. I help make the wine.“
‘You help me?“
Opal scowled. Humans never got anything the first time.
‘Yes,“ she said, barely concealing her impatience. ”I help you. I work beside you.“
The woman’s eyes cleared suddenly. “Belinda. What are you doing standing there? Get a shovel and clean up this mess. When you finish here you must prepare dinner.“
Opal’s heart skipped a beat. Manual labor? Not likely. Other people did that sort of thing.
‘On second thought,“ she said, pushing the mesmer as hard as she could, ”I am your pampered daughter Belinda. You never allow me to do any work in case it roughens my hands. You’re saving me for a rich husband.“ That should take care of it. She would hide out with this woman for a few hours, and then escape to the city.
But a surprise was coming Opal’s way. “That’s my Belinda,” said the woman. “Always dreaming. Now take this shovel, girl, or you’ll go to bed hungry.”
Opal’s cheeks flushed red. “Didn’t you hear me, crone? I do not do physical work. You will serve me. That is your purpose in life.“Decorative wire mesh
The Italian lady advanced on her tiny daughter. “Now, listen here, Belinda. I’m trying not to hear these poisonous words coming out of your mouth, but it is difficult. We both work the vines; that is the way it has always been. Now, take the shovel, or I will lock you in your room with a hundred potatoes to peel and none to eat.”
Opal was dumbstruck. She could not understand what was happening. Even strong-minded humans were putty before the mesmer.
What was happening here?
The simple truth was that Opal had been too clever for her own good. By placing a human pituitary gland in her own skull, she had effectively humanized herself. Gradually the human growth hormone was overpowering the magic in her system. It was Opal’s bad fortune that she had used her last drop of magic to convince this woman that she was her daughter. Now she was without magic, and a virtual prisoner in the Italian lady’s vineyard. And what’s more, she was being forced to work, and that was even worse than being in a coma.
‘Hurry!“ shouted the woman. ”There is rain in the forecast, and we have a lot to do.“
Opal took the shovel, resting the blade on the dry earth. It was taller than she was, and its handle was pitted and worn.
‘What should I do with this shovel?“
‘Crack the earth with the blade, then dig an irrigation trench between these two frames. And after dinner, I need you to hand wash some of the laundry that I have taken in this week. It’s Carmine’s, and you know what his washing is like.“ The lady grimaced, leaving Opal in no doubt as to the state of this person Carmine’s clothing.
The Italian lady picked up a second shovel and began to dig beside Opal.
‘Don’t frown so, Belinda. Work is good for the character. After a few more years, you will see that.“
Opal swung the shovel, dealing the earth a pathetic blow that barely raised a sliver of clay.
Already her hands were sore from holding the tool. In an hour she would be a mass of aches and blisters.
Maybe the LEP would come and take her away.
Her wish was to be granted, but not until a week later, by which time her nails were cracked and brown, and her skin was rough with welts. She had peeled countless potatoes and waited on her new mother, hand and foot. Opal was also horrified to discover that her adopted parent kept pigs, and that cleaning out the sty was another one of her seemingly endless duties. By the time the LEP Retrieval team came for her, she was almost happy to see them.

E7, Haven City
Julius Root’s recycling ceremony was held the day after Artemis and Holly arrived in Haven City. All the brass turned up to the commitment ceremony. All the brass, but not Captain Holly Short. Commander Sool refused to allow her to attend the commitment, even under armed guard. The Tribunal investigating the case had not made its decision yet, and until it did, Holly was a suspect in a murder investigation.
So Holly sat in the executive lounge watching the commitment ceremony on the big screen. Of all the things Sool had done to her, this was the worst. Julius Root had been her closest friend, and here she was watching his recycling on a screen while all the higher-ups attended, looking sad for the cameras.
She covered her face with her hands when they lowered an empty casket into the ornate decomposition vat. After six months, his bone and tissue would have been completely broken down and his remains would be used to nourish the earth.
Tears leaked out between Holly’s fingers, flowing over her hands.
Artemis sat beside her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Julius would have been proud of you. Haven is here today because of what you did.“
Holly sniffed. “Maybe. Maybe if I had been a little smarter, Julius would be here today, too.”
‘Maybe, but I don’t think so. I have been thinking about it and there was no way out of that chute. Not without prior knowledge.“
Holly lowered her hands. “Thanks, Artemis. That’s a nice thing to say. You’re not going soft, are you?“
Artemis was genuinely puzzled. “I honestly don’t know. Half of me wants to be a criminal, and the other half wants to be a normal teenager. I feel like I have two conflicting personalities and a head full of memories that aren’t really mine yet. It’s a strange feeling, not to know who you are exactly.”
‘Don’t worry, Mud Boy,“ said Holly.
‘I’ll keep a close eye on you to make sure you stay on the straight and narrow.“
‘I have two parents and a bodyguard already trying to do that.“
‘Well then, maybe it’s time to let them.“
The lounge’s doors slid open, and Foaly clopped in excitedly, followed by Commander Sool and a couple of flunkies. Sool was obviously not as thrilled to be in the room as the centaur, and had brought the extra officers along just in case Butler got agitated.
Foaly grabbed Holly by the shoulders. “You’re clear.” He beamed. “The Tribunal voted seven to one in your favor.”Decorative wire mesh
Holly scowled at Sool. “Let me guess who was the ”one.“”
Sool bristled. “I am still your superior officer, Short. I want to see that reflected in your attitude. You may have escaped this charge, but I will be watching you like a hawk from now on.”
Mulch clicked his fingers in front of Foaly’s face. “Hey, ponyboy. Over here. What about me? Am I a free dwarf?”
‘Well, the Tribunal decided to go after you for the grand theft auto.“
‘What?“ spluttered Mulch. ”After I saved the entire city!“
‘But,“ continued Foaly, ”considering the time already served for an illegal search, they’re prepared to call it even. No medal, I’m sorry to say.“
Mulch slapped the centaur’s haunch. “You couldn’t just say that, could you, you had to draw it out.”
Holly had not stopped scowling at Sool.
‘Let me tell you what Julius told me shortly before he died,“ she said.
‘Please do,“ said Sool, his words dripping with sarcasm. ”I find everything you say fascinating.“
‘Julius told me, more or less, that my job was to serve the People, and that I should do that any way I could.“
‘Smart fairy. I do hope you intend to honor those words.“
Holly ripped the LEP badge from her shoulder.
‘I do. With you looking over my shoulder on every shift, I won’t be able to help anyone, so I’ve decided to go it alone.“ She tossed the badge on the table. ”I quit.“
Sool chuckled. “If this is a bluff it won’t work. I’ll be glad to see the back of you.”
‘Holly, don’t do this,“ pleaded Foaly. ”The force needs you. I need you.“
Holly patted his flank. “They accused me of murdering Julius. How can I stay? Don’t worry, old friend. I won’t be far away.” She nodded at Mulch. “Are you coming?”
‘What, me?“
Holly grinned. “You’re a free dwarf now, and every private detective needs a partner. Someone with underworld connections.”
Mulch’s chest swelled. “Mulch Diggums, private detective. I like that. Hey, I’m not a sidekick, am I? Because the sidekick always gets it.”
‘No. You’re a full-fledged partner. Whatever we make, we split.“
Holly turned to Artemis next.
‘We did it again, Mud Boy. We saved the world, or at least stopped two worlds colliding.“
Artemis nodded. “It doesn’t get any easier. Maybe someone else should take a turn.”
Holly punched him playfully in the arm. “Who else has our style?” Then she leaned in and whispered, “I’ll be in touch. Maybe you might be interested in some consultancy work?”
Artemis cocked one brow and gave a slight nod. It was all the answer she needed.
Butler usually stood to say good-bye, but in this instance, he had to make do with kneeling.
Holly was barely visible inside his hug.
‘Until the next crisis,“ she said.
‘Or maybe you could just visit,“ he replied.
‘Getting a visa will be more difficult now that I’m a civilian.“
‘You’re sure about this?“
Holly frowned. “No. I’m torn.” She nodded at Artemis. “But who isn’t?”
Artemis treated Sool to his most scornful gaze. “Congratulations, Commander, you have managed to alienate the LEP’S finest officer.”
‘Listen here, human,“ began Sool, but Butler growled and the words withered in the commander’s throat. The gnome stepped quickly behind the larger of his officers. ”Send them Home. Now.“
The officers drew their sidearms, aimed, and fired. A tranquilizer pellet stuck to Artemis’s neck, dissolving instantly. The officers hit Butler with four, not taking any chances.
Artemis could hear Holly protesting as his vision blurred like an Impressionist painting. Like The Fairy Thief.
‘There’s no need for that, Sool,“ she said, catching Artemis’s elbow. ”They’ve seen the chute already. You could have returned them conscious.“
Sool’s voice sounded as though he were speaking from the bottom of a well. “I’m not taking any chances, Captain, I mean, Miss Short. Humans are violent creatures by nature, especially when they are being transported.”
Artemis felt Holly’s hand on his chest. Under his jacket, she slipped something into his pocket.
But he couldn’t ask what, because his tongue would not obey him. All he could do with his mouth was breathe.Decorative wire mesh
He heard a thump behind him.
Butler ‘s gone, he concluded. Just me left.
And then he was gone too.
Fowl Manor Artemis came to gradually. He felt well and rested, and all his memories were in place. Then again, maybe they weren’t. How would he know?
He opened his eyes and saw the fresco on the ceiling above. He was back in his own room.
Artemis did not move for several moments. It wasn’t that he couldn’t move, it was just that lying here like this seemed utterly luxurious. There were no pixies after him, or trolls homing in on his scent, or fairy tribunals judging him. He could lie here and simply think. His favorite occupation.
Artemis Fowl had a big decision to make: which way would his life go from here? The decision was his.
He could not blame circumstances or peer pressure. He was his own person, and intelligent enough to realize it.
The solitary life of crime no longer appealed to him as completely as it had. He had no desire to create victims. Yet there was still something about the thrill of executing a brilliant plan that attracted him. Maybe there was a way to combine his criminal genius with his newfound morals.
Some people deserved to be stolen from. He could be like a modern-day Robin Hood: steal from the rich and give to the poor. Well, maybe just steal from the rich. One step at a time.
Something vibrated in his jacket pocket.
Artemis reached in and pulled out a fairy communicator. One of the pair they had planted in Opal Koboi’s shuttle. Artemis had a vague memory of Holly sliding something into his pocket just before he passed out. She obviously wanted to stay in touch.
Artemis stood, opening the device, and Holly’s smiling face appeared on the screen.
‘You got Home safely, then. Sorry about the sedatives. Sool is a pig.“
‘Forget about it. No harm done.“
‘You have changed. Once upon a time, Artemis Fowl would have vowed revenge.“
‘Once upon a time.“
Holly glanced around her. “Listen, I can’t stay on long. I had to bolt on a pirate booster to this thing just to get a signal. This call is costing me a fortune. I need a favor.”
Artemis groaned. “No one ever calls me just to say hello.”
‘Next time. I promise.“
‘I’ll hold you to it. What’s the favor?“
‘Mulch and I have our first client. He’s an art dealer who’s had a picture stolen. Frankly, I’m flummoxed, so I thought I’d ask an expert.“
Artemis smiled. “I suppose I do have some expertise in the area of stolen art. Tell me what happened.”
‘The thing is, there’s no way in or out of this exhibit without detection. The painting is just gone. Not even warlocks have that kind of magic.“
Artemis heard footsteps on the stairs.
‘Hang on a second, Holly. Someone’s coming.“
Butler burst in the door, pistol drawn. “I just woke up,” he said. “Are you all right?”
‘Fine,“ said Artemis. ”You can put that away.“
‘I was half hoping Sool was still here so I could scare him a little.“ Butler crossed to the window and pulled aside the net curtains. ”There’s a car coming up the avenue. It’s your parents back from the spa in Westmeath. We’d better get our stories straight. Why did we come Home from Germany ?“
Artemis thought quickly. “Let’s just say I felt Homesick. I missed being my parents’ son. That’s true enough.”
Butler smiled. “I like that excuse. I hope you won’t need to use it again.”
‘I don’t intend to.“
Butler held out a rolled-up canvas. “And what about this? Have you decided what you should do with it?”Decorative wire mesh
Artemis took The Fairy Thief and spread it on the bed before him. It really was beautiful. “Yes, old friend. I have decided to do what I should do. Now, can you stall my parents at the door; I need to take this call.”
Butler nodded, running down the stairs three at a time.
Artemis returned to the communicator. “Now, Holly, about your little problem. Have you considered the fact that the picture you seek may still be in the room, and our thief may have simply moved it?”
‘That’s the first thing I thought of. Come on, Artemis, you’re supposed to be a genius. Use your brain.“
Artemis scratched his chin. He was finding it difficult to concentrate. He heard tires crunching on the drive, and then his mother’s voice laughing as she climbed from the, car.
‘Arty?“ she called. ”Come down. We need to see you.“
‘Come down, Arty boy,“ shouted his father. ‘Welcome us Home.“
Artemis found that he was smiling. “Holly, can you call me back later? I’m busy right now.”
Holly tried to scowl. “Okay. Five hours, and you’d better have some suggestions for me too ”
‘Don’t worry, I will. And also my consultant’s bill.“
‘Some things never change,“ said Holly, and closed the link.Decorative wire mesh
Artemis quickly locked the communicator in his room safe, then ran to the stairs.
His mother was at the bottom of the steps, and her arms were open wide.

The Opal Deception(11)HORSE SENSE(1)

2008-11-15T00:47:00.000-08:00

Chapter 10: HORSE SENSE
Police Plaza, Haven City, The Lower Elements
Everybody in Police Plaza was all talk about the Zito probe. In truth it was a bit of a distraction from recent events. The LEP didn’t lose many officers in the field. And now two in the same shift. Foaly was taking it hard, especially the loss of Holly Short. It was one thing to lose a friend in the line of duty, but for that friend to be falsely accused of murder was unbearable. Foaly could not stand the idea that the People would forever remember Holly as a cold-blooded killer. Captain Short was innocent. What’s more, she was a decorated hero, and deserved to be remembered as such.Decorative wire mesh
A corn screen flickered into life on his wall. One of his technical assistants in the outer office appeared. The elf’s pointed ears were quivering with excitement.
‘The probe is down to sixty-five miles. I can’t believe the humans have gotten this far.“
Foaly opened a screen on his wall. He couldn’t believe it either. In theory, it should have been decades before humans developed a laser sophisticated enough to puncture the crust without frying half a continent. Obviously, Giovanni Zito went right ahead and developed the laser without worrying about Foaly’s projections for his species.
Foaly almost regretted having to shut Zito’s project down. The Sicilian was one of the brightest hopes for the human race. His plan to harness the power of the outer core was a good one, but the cost was fairy exposure, and that was too high a price to pay.
‘Keep a close eye on it,“ he said, trying to sound interested. ”Especially when it runs parallel to E7. I don’t anticipate any trouble, but eyes peeled just in case.“
‘Yes, sir. Oh, and we have Captain Verbil on line two, from the surface.“
A tiny spark of interest lit the centaur’s eyes. Verbil. The sprite had allowed Mulch Diggums to steal an LEP shuttle. Mulch escaped a few hours after his friends on the force had been killed. Coincidence? Perhaps. Perhaps not.
Foaly opened a window to the surface.
In it he could see Verbil’s chest.
Foaly sighed. “Chix! You’re hovering. Come down where I can see you.”
‘Sorry,“ said Chix, alighting on the floor.
‘I’m a bit emotional. Trouble Kelp gave me a real grilling.“
‘What do you want, Chix? A hug and a kiss? I have things on my mind here.“
Verbil’s wings flared up behind him. It was a real effort to stay on the ground. “I have a message for you, from Mulch Diggums.”
Foaly fought the urge to whinny. No doubt Mulch would have some choice words for him.
‘Go on, then. Tell me what our foul-mouthed friend thinks of me.“Decorative wire mesh
‘This is between us, right? I don’t want to be pensioned off on the grounds that I’m unstable.“
‘Yes, Chix, it’s between us. Everyone has a right to be temporarily unstable. Today of all days.“
‘It’s ridiculous, really. I don’t believe it for a minute.“ Chix attempted a confident chuckle.
Foaly snapped. “What’s ridiculous? What don’t you believe!“ Tell me, Chix, or I’ll reach down this com link and drag it out of you.”
‘Are we secure?“
‘Yes!“ the centaur screeched. ”We’re secure. Tell me. Give me Mulch’s message.“
Chix took a deep breath, saying the words as he let it out. “Opal Koboi is back.”
Foaly’s laughter started somewhere around his hooves and grew in volume and intensity until it burst out of his mouth. “Opal is back! Koboi is back!
I get it now. Mulch conned you into letting him steal the shuttle. He played on your fear of Opal waking up, and you bought it. Opal is back; don’t make me laugh.“
‘That’s what he said,“ Chix mumbled sulkily.
‘There’s no need to laugh so hard. You’re spitting on the screen. I have feelings, you know.“
Foaly’s laughter petered out. It wasn’t real laughter anyway, it was just an outburst of emotion.
Mostly sadness, with some frustration mixed in.
‘Okay, Chix. It’s not your fault. Mulch has fooled smarter sprites than you.“
It took Chix a moment to realize that he was being insulted.
‘It could be true“ he said, miffed. “You could be wrong. It is possible, you know. Maybe Opal Koboi conned you.”Decorative wire mesh
Foaly opened another window on his wall.
‘No, Verbil, it is not possible. Opal could not be back, because I’m looking at her right now.“
Live feed from the Argon Clinic confirmed that Opal was indeed still suspended in her coma harness.
She’d had her DNA swab minutes beforehand.
Chix’s petulance crumbled. “I can’t believe it,” he muttered. “Mulch seemed so sincere. I actually thought Holly was in danger.”
Foaly’s tail twitched. “What? Mulch said Holly was in danger? But Holly is gone. She died.”
‘Yes,“ said Chix morosely. ”Mulch was shoveling more horse dung, I suppose. No offense.“
Of course. Opal would set Holly up to take the blame for Julius. That little cruel touch would be just like Opal. If she wasn’t right there, in her harness. DNA never lies.
Chix rapped the screen surround at his end, to get Foaly’s attention. “Listen, Foaly, remember what you promised. This is between us. No need for anyone else to know I got duped by a dwarf. I’ll end up scraping vole curry off the sidewalk after crunchball matches.”
Foaly absently shut the window. “Yes, whatever. Between us. Right.”
Opal was still secure. No doubt about it.
Surely she couldn’t have escaped. If she had, then maybe this probe was more sinister than it seemed. She couldn’t have escaped. It wasn’t possible.
But Foaly’s paranoid streak couldn’t let it go. Just to be sure, there were a few little tests he could perform. He really should get authorization, but if he was wrong, nobody had to know. And if he was right, nobody would care about a few hours of computer time.
The centaur ran a quick search on the surveillance database and selected the footage from the chute access tunnel where Julius had died.
There was something he wanted to check.Decorative wire mesh

Uncharted Chute, Three Miles Below Southern Italy
The stolen shuttle made good time to the surface.
Holly flew as fast as she could without burning the gearbox or smashing them into a chute wall.
Time may have been of the essence, but the motley crew would be of little use to anyone if they had to be scraped off the wall like so much crunchy pate.
‘These old rigs are mainly for watch changes,“ explained Holly. ”The LEP got this one secondhand at a criminal assets auction. It’s souped up to avoid customs ships. It used to belong to a curry smuggler.“
Artemis sniffed. A faint yellow odor still lingered in the cockpit. “Why would anyone smuggle curry?”
‘Extra-hot curry is illegal in Haven. Living underground, we have to be careful of emissions, if you catch my drift.“
Artemis caught her drift and decided not to pursue the subject.
‘We need to locate Opal’s shuttle before we venture aboveground and give our position away.“
Holly pulled over next to a small lake of black oil, the shuttle’s downdraft rippling the surface.
‘Artemis, I think I mentioned that it’s a stealth shuttle. Nothing can detect her. We don’t have sensors sophisticated enough to spot her. Opal and her pixie sidekicks could be sitting in their craft just around the next bend, and our computers wouldn’t pick them up.“
Artemis leaned in over the dashboard readouts.
‘You’re approaching this the wrong way, Holly.Decorative wire mesh
We need to find out where the shuttle is not.“
Artemis launched various scans, searching for traces of certain gases within a hundred-mile radius. “I think we can assume that the stealth shuttle is very close to E7, perhaps right at the mouth; but that still leaves us with a lot of ground to cover, especially if our eyes are all we have to rely on.”
‘That’s what I’ve been saying. But do go on;
I’m sure you have a point.“
‘So I’m using this shuttle’s limited sensor dishes to scan from here right up the chute to the surface and down about thirty miles.“
‘Scanning for what?“ said Holly in exasperation.
‘A hole in the air?“
Artemis grinned. “Exactly. You see, normal space is made up of various gases: oxygen, hydrogen, and so on, but the stealth shuttle would prevent any of these from being detected inside the ship’s hull. So if we find a small patch of space without the usual ambient gasses…”
‘Then we’ve found the stealth shuttle,“ said Holly.
‘Exactly.“
The computer completed its scan quickly, building an on-screen model of the surrounding area. The gases were displayed in various whirling hues.
Artemis instructed the computer to search for anomalies. It found three: one with an abnormally high saturation of carbon monoxide.
‘That’s probably an airport. A lot of exhaust fumes.“
The second anomaly was a large area with only trace elements of any gas.
‘A vacuum, probably a computer plant,“ surmised Artemis.
The third anomaly was a small area just outside the lip of E7 that appeared to contain no gas of any kind.Decorative wire mesh
‘That’s her. The volume is exactly right. She’s on the north side of the chute entrance.“
‘Well done,“ said Holly, punching him lightly on the shoulder. ”Let’s get up there.“
‘You know, of course, that as soon as we put our nose into the main chute system, Foaly will pick us up.“
Holly gave the engines a few seconds to warm up. “It’s too late to worry about that. Haven is more than six hundred miles away. By the time anyone gets here, we’ll either be heroes or outlaws.”
‘We’re already outlaws,“ said Artemis.
‘True,“ agreed Holly. ”But soon we could be outlaws with no one chasing us.“

Police Plaza, The Lower Elements
Opal Koboi was back. Could it be possible?
The thought niggled at Foaly’s ordered mind, unraveling any chain of thought that he tried to compose.
He would not find any peace until he found out for certain. One way or the other.
The first place to check was the video footage from E37. If one began with the assumption that Koboi was indeed alive, then a number of details could be explained. Firstly, the strange haze that had appeared on all the tapes was not simply interference, but manufactured to hide something. The loss of audio signal, too, could have been orchestrated by Koboi to cover whatever had passed between Holly and Julius in the tunnel.
And the calamitous explosion could have been Koboi’s doing and not Holly’s. The possibility brought tremendous peace to Foaly, but he contained it. He hadn’t proven anything yet.
Foaly ran the tape through a few filters without result. The strange blurred section refused to be sharpened, cloned, or shifted. That in itself was unusual. If the blurred spot was just computer glitchery, Foaly should have been able to do something about it. But the indistinct patch stood its ground, repelling everything Foaly threw at it.
You may have the hi-tech ground covered, thought the centaur, but what about good old lo-tech?Decorative wire mesh
Foaly zoomed the footage to moments before the explosion. The blurred patch had transferred itself to Julius’s chest, and indeed at times, the commander appeared to be looking at it. Was there an explosive device under there? If so, then it must have been remotely detonated. The jammer signal was probably sent from the same remote. The detonation command would override all other signals, including the jammer. This meant that for perhaps a thousandth of a second before detonation, whatever was on Julius’s chest would become visible. Not long enough for the fairy eye to capture, but a camera would see it just fine.
Foaly fast-forwarded to the explosion and then began to work his way backward, frame by frame. It was agonizing work, watching his friend being reassembled by the reversed film. The centaur tried to ignore it and concentrate on the work. The flames shrank from orange plumes to white shards, eventually containing themselves inside an orange minisun. Then, for a single frame, something appeared. Foaly flicked past it, then returned. There! On Julius’s chest, right where the blur used to be. A device of some kind.
Foaly’s fingers jabbed the enlarge tool. There was a square foot metal panel secured to Julius’s chest with octo-bonds. It had been picked up by the camera for a single frame. Less than one thousandth of a second, which was why it had been missed by the investigators. On the face of the panel was a plasma screen. Someone had been communicating with the commander before he died. That someone had not wanted to be overheard, hence the audio jammer. Unfortunately, the screen was now blank, as the detonation signal which disrupted the jammer would also have disrupted the video.
But I know who it is, thought Foaly. It’s Opal Koboi, back from limbo.
But he needed proof. The centaur’s word was worth about as much to Ark Sool as a dwarf’s denial that he had passed wind.
Foaly glared at the live feed from the Argon Institute. There she was. Opal Koboi, still deep in her coma. Apparently.
How did you do it? Foaly wondered. How could you swap places with another fairy?
Plastic surgery wouldn’t do it. Surgery couldn’t change DNA. Foaly opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a piece of equipment that resembled two miniature kitchen plungers.
There was only one way to find out what was going on here. He would have to ask Opal directly.
When Foaly arrived at the institute, Dr. Argon was reluctant to allow him into Opal’s room.
‘Miss Koboi is in a deep state of catatonia,“ said the gnome peevishly. ”Who knows what effect your devices will have on her psyche. It’s difficult, nigh impossible, to explain to a layfairy what damage intrusive stimuli may have on the recovering mind.“Decorative wire mesh
Foaly whinnied. “You had no trouble letting the TV networks in. I suppose they pay better than the LEP. I do hope you are not beginning to view Opal as your personal possession, Doctor. She is a state prisoner, and I can have her moved to a state facility any time I like.”
‘Maybe just five minutes,“ said Jerbal Argon, tapping in the door’s security code.
Foaly clopped past him and plonked his briefcase on the table. Opal swung gently in the draft from the doorway. And it did seem to be Opal. Even this close, with every feature in focus, Foaly would have sworn that this was his old adversary.
The same Opal who had competed with him for every prize at college. The same Opal who had very nearly succeeded in having him blamed for the goblin uprising.
‘Get her down from there,“ he ordered.
Argon positioned a bunk below the harness, complaining with every step. “I shouldn’t be doing physical labor“ he moaned. ”It’s my hip. No one knows the pain I’m in. No one. The warlocks can’t do a thing for me.“
‘Don’t you have staff to do this sort of thing?“
‘Normally, yes,“ said Argon, lowering the harness.
‘But my janitors are on leave. Both at the same time. Normally I wouldn’t allow it, but good pixie workers are hard to find.“
Foaly’s ears pricked up. “Pixies? Your janitors are pixies?”
‘Yes. We’re quite proud of them around here, minor celebrities, you know. The pixie twins. And of course they have the highest respect for me.“
Foaly’s hands shook as he unpacked his equipment. It all seemed to be coming together. First Chix, then the strange device on Julius’s chest, now pixie janitors who were on leave. He just needed one more piece of the puzzle.Decorative wire mesh
‘What is it you have there?“ asked Argon anxiously. ”Nothing that could cause any damage.“
Foaly tilted the unconscious pixie’s head backward. “Don’t worry, Argon. It’s just a Retimager. I’m not going in any farther than the eyeballs.”
He held open the pixie’s eyes one at a time, sealing the plunger like cups around the sockets.
‘Every image is recorded on the retinas. This leaves a trail of microscratches that can be enhanced and read.“
‘I know what a Retimager is,“ snapped Argon. ”I do read science journals occasionally, you know. So you can tell what the last thing Opal saw was. What good will that do?“
Foaly connected the eyepieces to a wall computer. “We shall see,” he said, endeavoring to sound cryptic rather than desperate.
He opened the Retimager’s program on the plasma screen, and two dark images appeared.
‘Left and right eyes,“ explained Foaly, toggling a key until the two images overlapped.
The image was obviously a head from a side angle, but it was too dark to identify.
‘Ooh, such brilliance,“ gushed Argon sarcastically. ”Shall I call the networks? Or should I just faint in awe?“
Foaly ignored him. “Lighten and enhance,” he said to the computer.
A computer-generated paintbrush swabbed the screen, leaving a brighter and sharper picture behind it.
‘It’s a pixie,“ muttered Foaly. ”But still not enough detail.“ He scratched his chin. ”computer, match this picture with patient Koboi, Opal.“
A picture of Opal flashed up on a separate window. It resized itself and revolved until the new picture was at the same angle as the original. Red arrows flashed between the pictures, connecting identical points. After a few moments the space between the two pictures was completely blitzed with red lines.
‘Are these two pictures of the same person?“ asked Foaly.
‘Affirmative,“ said the computer. ”Though there is a point zero five percent possibility of error.“
Foaly jabbed the print button. “I’ll take those odds.”
Argon stepped closer to the screen, as though in a daze. His face was pale, and growing paler as he realized the implications of the picture.
‘She saw herself from the side,“ he whispered. ”That means…“
‘There were two Opal Kobois,“ completed Foaly. ”The real one, that you let escape. And this shell here, which can only be…“
‘A clone.“Decorative wire mesh
‘Precisely,“ said Foaly, plucking the hard copy from the printer. ”She had herself cloned, and then your janitors waltzed her right out of here under your nose.“
‘Oh dear.“
‘Oh dear hardly covers it. Maybe now would be a good time to call the networks, or faint in awe.“
Argon took the second option, collapsing to the floor in a limp heap. The sudden evaporation of his dreams of fame and fortune was too much to handle all at once.
Foaly stepped over him and galloped all the way to Police Plaza.

E7, Southern Italy
Opal Koboi was having a hard time being patient. She had used up every last drop of her patience in the Argon Clinic. And now she wanted things to happen on her command. Unfortunately, a hundred million tons of hematite will only sink through the earth at sixteen feet per second, and there isn’t a lot anybody can do about it. Opal decided to pass the time by watching Holly Short die. That cretinous captain. Who did she think she was, with her crew cut and cute bow lips?
Opal glanced at herself in a reflective surface. Now, there was real beauty. There was a face that deserved its own currency, and it was quite possible that she would soon have it.
‘Mervall,“ she snapped. ”Bring me the Eleven Wonders disk. I need something to cheer me up.“
‘Right away, Miss Koboi,“ said Merv.
‘Would you like me to finish preparing the meal first, or bring you the disk directly.“
Opal rolled her eyes at her reflection.
‘What did I just say?“
‘You said to bring you the disk.“
‘So what do you think you should do, my dearest Mervall?“
‘I think I should bring you the disk,“ said Merv.
‘Genius, Mervall. Pure genius.“
Merv left the shuttle’s kitchenette and ejected a disk from the recorder. The computer would have the film on its hard drive, but Miss Koboi liked to have her personal favorites on disk so she could be cheered up wherever she happened to be.
Highlights from the past included her father’s nervous breakdown, the attack on Police Plaza, and Foaly bawling his eyes out in the LEP operation’s booth.
Merv handed the disk to Opal.Decorative wire mesh
‘And?“ said the tiny pixie.
Merv was stumped for a moment, then he remembered.
One of Opal’s new commandments was that the Brill brothers should bow when they approached their leader. He swallowed his pride and bowed low from the waist.
‘Better. Now, weren’t you supposed to be preparing dinner?“
Merv retreated, still bowing. There was a lot of pride- swallowing going on around here in the last few hours. Opal was unhappy with the level of service and respect provided by the Brill brothers, and so she had drawn up a list of rules. These directives included the aforementioned bowing, never looking Opal in the eyes, going outside the shuttle to pass wind, and not thinking too loudly within ten feet of their employer.
‘Because I know what you are thinking,“ Opal had said, in a low tremulous voice. ”I can see your thoughts swirling was around your head. Right now, you’re marveling at how beautiful I am.“
‘Uncanny,“ gasped Merv, while traitorously wondering if there was a cuckoo flitting about her head at that very moment. Opal was going seriously off the rails with all this changing her species and world domination. Scant and himself would have deserted her by now, if she hadn’t promised that they could have Barbados when she was Queen of the Earth. That and the fact that if they deserted her now, Opal would add the Brill brothers to her vengeance list.
Merv retreated to the kitchen and continued with his efforts to prepare Miss Koboi’s food without actually touching it. Another new rule.
Meanwhile, Scant was in the cargo bay checking the detonator relays on the last two shaped charges. One for the job, and one for backup. The charges were about the size of melons, but would make a much bigger mess if they exploded. He checked that the magnetic relay pods were secure on the casings. The relays were standard mining sparker units that would accept the signal from the remote detonator and send a neutron charge into the bellies of the charges.
Scant winked at his brother through the kitchen doorway.
Merv pursed his lips in silent imitation of a cuckoo. Scant nodded wearily. They were both getting tired of Opal’s outrageous behavior.
Only the thought of drinking pina coladas on the beach in Barbados kept them going.
Opal, oblivious to all the discontent in her camp, popped the video disk into the multidrive. To watch one’s enemies die in glorious color and surround sound was surely one of the greatest advantages of technology. Several video windows opened on the screen. Each one represented the view from one of the hemisphere’s cameras.
Opal watched delightedly as Holly and Artemis were driven into the river by a pack of slobbering trolls. She oohed and aahed as they took refuge on the tiny island of corpses. Her tiny heart beat faster as they scaled the temple scaffolding. She was about to instruct Mervall to fetch her some chocolate truffles from the booty box to go with the movie, when the cameras blacked out.
‘Mervall,“ she squealed, wringing her delicate fingers. ”Descant! Get in here.“
The Brill brothers rushed into the lounge, handguns drawn.
‘Yes, Miss Koboi?“ said Scant, laying the shaped charges down on a fur-covered lounger.
Opal covered her face. “Don’t look at me!” she ordered.
Scant lowered his eyes. “Sorry. No eye contact. I forgot.”
‘And stop thinking that.“
‘Yes, Miss Koboi. Sorry, Miss Koboi.“ Scant had no idea what he was supposed to be thinking, so he tried to blank out everything.Decorative wire mesh
Opal crossed her arms and tapped her fingers on her forearms until both brothers were bowed before her.
‘Something has gone wrong,“ she said, her voice trembling slightly. ”Our Temple of Artemis cameras seem to have malfunctioned.“
Merv backed the footage up to the last image.
In it the trolls were advancing on Artemis and Holly across the temple roof.
‘It looks like they were done for anyway, Miss Koboi.“
‘Yep,“ agreed Scant. ”No way out of that one.“
Opal cleared her throat. “Firstly, yep is not a word, and I will not be spoken to in slang. New rule. Secondly, I assumed that Artemis Fowl was dead once before, and I spent a year in a coma as a result. We must proceed as though Fowl and Short have survived and are on our trail.“
‘With respect, Miss Koboi,“ said Merv, directing the words at his own toes. ”This is a stealth shuttle; we didn’t leave a trail.“
‘Moron,“ said Opal casually. ”Our trail is on every television screen aboveground, and doubtless below it. Even if Artemis Fowl were not a genius, he would guess that I am behind the Zito probe.
We need to plant the final charge now. How deep is the probe?“
Scant consulted a computer readout. “One hundred miles. We have ninety minutes to go to the optimum blast point.”
Opal paced the deck for a few moments. “We have not picked up any communication with Police Plaza, so if they are alive they are alone.
Best not to risk it. We will plant the charge now and guard it. Descant, check the casings again.
Mervall, run a system’s check on the shuttle.
I don’t want a single ion escaping through the hull.“
The pixie twins stepped backward, bowing as they went. They would do as they were told, but surely the boss was being a bit paranoid.
‘I heard that thought,“ screeched Opal. ”I am not paranoid!“
Merv stepped behind a steel partition to shield his brain waves. Had Miss Koboi really intercepted the thought? Or was it just the paranoia again? After all, paranoid people usually believe that everyone thinks they are paranoid.
Merv poked his head out from behind the partition and beamed a thought at Opal, just to be sure.
Holly Short is prettier than you, he thought as loudly as he could. A treasonous thought, to be sure. One Opal could hardly fail to pick up on if she could indeed read minds.
Opal stared at him. “Mervall?”
‘Yes, Miss Koboi?“
‘You’re looking directly at me. That’s very bad for my skin.“
‘Sorry, Miss Koboi,“ said Merv, averting his eyes. His eyes happened to glance through the cockpit windshield, toward the mouth of the chute.
He was just in time to see an LEP shuttle rise through the holographic rock outcrop that covered the shuttlebay door. “Em, Miss Koboi, we have a problem.” He pointed out the windshield.
The shuttle had risen to thirty feet and was hovering above the Italian landscape, obviously searching for something.
‘They’ve found us,“ said Opal in a horrified whisper. Then she quelled her panic, quickly analyzing the situation.Decorative wire mesh
‘That is a transport shuttle, not a pursuit vehicle,“ she noted, walking quickly into the cockpit, closely followed by the twins. ”We must assume that Artemis Fowl and Captain Short are aboard. They have no weapons and only basic scanners. In this poor light we are virtually invisible to the naked eye. They are blind.“
‘Should we blast them from the skies?“ asked the younger Brill brother eagerly. At last some of the action he had been promised.
‘No,“ replied Opal. ”A plasma burst would give our position to human and fairy police satellites. We go silent. Turn off everything.
Even life support. I don’t know how they got this close, but the only way they’re going to find out our exact location is to run into us. And if that happens, their sad little shuttle will crumple like cardboard.“
The Brills obeyed promptly, switching off all of the shuttle’s systems.
‘Good,“ whispered Opal, placing a slim finger over her lips. They watched the shuttle for several minutes until Opal decided to break the silence.
‘Whoever is passing wind, please stop it, or I will devise a fitting punishment.“
‘It wasn’t me,“ mouthed the Brill brothers simultaneously. Neither was anxious to find out what the fitting punishment for passing wind was.

E7, Ten Minutes Earlier
Holly eased the LEP shuttle through a particularly tricky secondary shaft and into E7. Almost immediately two red lights began pulsing on the console.
‘The clock is ticking,“ she announced. ”We just triggered two of Foaly’s sensors. They’re going to put the shuttle together with the probe and come running.“
‘How long?“ asked Artemis.
Holly calculated in her head. “If they come supersonic in the attack shuttle, less than half an hour.”
‘Perfect,“ said Artemis, pleased.
‘I’m glad you think so,“ moaned Mulch.
‘Supersonic LEP officers are never a welcome sight among burglars. As a general rule we prefer our police officers subsonic.“
Holly clamped the shuttle to a rocky outcrop on the chute wall. “Are you backing out, Mulch?
Or is just the usual moaning?“
The dwarf rotated his jaw, warming it up for the work ahead. “I think I’m entitled to a little moan. Why do these plans always involve me putting myself in harm’s way, while you three get to wait it out in the shuttle?“
Artemis handed him a cooler sack from the galley. “Because you are the only one who can do this, Mulch. You alone can foil Koboi’s plan.”
Mulch was not impressed. “I’m not impressed,” he said. “I’d better get a medal for this. Real gold, too. No more gold-plated computer disks.”
Holly hustled him to the starboard hatch.
‘Mulch, if they don’t lock me in prison for the rest of my life, I will start the campaign to give you the biggest medal in the LEP cabinet.“
‘And amnesty for any past and future crimes?“
Holly opened the hatch. “Past, maybe. Future, not a chance. But no guarantees. I’m not exactly flavor of the month at Police Plaza.”
Mulch tucked the sack inside his shirt.
‘Okay. Possible big medal and probable amnesty. I’ll take it.“ He put one foot outside onto the flat surface of the rock.Decorative wire mesh
Tunnel wind sucked at his leg, threatening to tumble him into the abyss. “We meet back here in twenty minutes.”
Artemis handed the dwarf a small walkie-talkie from the LEP locker. “Remember the plan,” shouted Artemis over the roar of the wind.
‘Don’t forget to leave the communicator. Only steal what you are supposed to. Nothing else.“
‘Nothing else,“ echoed Mulch, looking none too pleased. After all, who knew what valuables Opal may have lying about up there. ”Unless something really jumps out at me.“
‘Nothing,“ insisted Artemis. ”Now, are you sure you can get in?“
Mulch’s grin revealed rows of rectangular teeth. “I can get in. You just make sure their power is off and they’re looking the other way.”
Butler hefted the bag of tricks that he had brought with him from Fowl Manor. “Don’t worry, Mulch. They’ll be looking the other way. I guarantee it.”

Police Plaza, The Lower Elements
All the brass were in the Operations Room, watching live television updates on the probe’s progress when Foaly burst in.
‘We need to talk,“ blurted the centaur to the general assembly.
‘Quiet,“ hissed Council Chairman Cahartez. ”Have a bowl of curry.“
Chairman Cahartez ran a fleet of curry vans in Haven City. Vole curry was his specialty. Obviously he was catering this little viewing session.
Foaly ignored the buffet table. He snatched a remote control from a chair armrest and muted the master volume.
‘We have big trouble, ladies and gentlemen. Opal Koboi is loose, and I think she’s behind the Zito probe.“
A high-back swivel chair swung around. Ark Sool was lounging in it. “Opal Koboi? Amazing. And she’s doing all this psychically, I suppose.”
‘No. What are you doing in that chair? That’s the commander’s chair. The real commander, not Internal Affairs.“
Sool tapped the golden acorns on his lapel.
‘I’ve been promoted.“
Foaly blanched. “You’re the new Recon commander?”
Sool’s smile could have illuminated a dark room. “Yes. The Council felt that Recon had been getting a bit out of hand lately. They felt, and I must say I agree, that Recon needs a firm hand. Of course I will stay on at Internal Affairs until a suitable replacement can be found.”
Foaly scowled. There was no time for this. Not now.
He had to get clearance for a supersonic launch immediately.
‘Okay, Sool, Commander. I can lodge my objection later. Right now we have an emergency on our hands.“
Everyone was listening now. But none with much enthusiasm, except Commander Vinyaya who had always been a staunch supporter of Julius Root, and would certainly have not voted for Sool.
Vinyaya was all ears.
‘What’s the emergency, Foaly?“ she asked.
Foaly slipped a computer disk into the room’s multidrive. “That thing in the Argon Clinic is not Opal Koboi; it’s a clone.”
‘Evidence?“ demanded Sool.Decorative wire mesh
Foaly highlighted a window on the screen. “I scanned her retinas and found that the last image the clone saw was Opal Koboi herself. Obviously during her escape.”
Sool was not convinced. “I’ve never trusted your gadgets, Foaly. Your Retimager is not accepted as actual evidence in a courtroom.”
‘We’re not in a courtroom, Sool,“ said Foaly through ground teeth. ”If we accept that Opal could be loose, then the events of the past twenty-four hours take on a whole new significance. A pattern begins to emerge. Scalene is dead, pixies are missing from the clinic, Julius is murdered, and Holly is blamed. Then within hours of this a probe is sent down a decade ahead of schedule. Koboi is behind all of this. That probe is on its way here and we’re sitting around watching it on PPTV… eating stinking vole curry!“
‘I object to the disparaging curry remark,“ said Cahartez, wounded. ”But otherwise I get your point.“
Sool jumped from his chair. “What point?
Foaly is connecting dots that don’t exist. All he is trying to do is exonerate his late friend, Captain Short.“
‘Holly may be alive!“ snapped Foaly.
‘And trying to do something about Opal Koboi.“
Sool rolled his eyes. “But her vitals flatlined, centaur. We remote-destructed her helmet. I was there, remember?”
A head poked into the room. One of Foaly’s lab apprentices. “I got that case, sir,” he panted. “Quick as I could.”
‘Well done, Roob,“ said Foaly, snatching the case from the apprentice’s hand. He spun the case around. ”I issued Holly and Julius with new suits. Prototypes. They both have bio-sensors and trackers. They are not linked with the LEP mainframe. I never thought to check them earlier. Holly’s helmet may be out of action, but her suit is still functioning.“
‘What do the suit’s sensors tell us, Foaly?“ asked Vinyaya.
Foaly was almost afraid to look. If the suit sensors were flatlining, it would be like losing Holly again. He counted to three, then consulted the small screen in the case. There were two readouts on the screen. One was flat. Julius. But the other was active in all areas.
‘Holly is alive!“ shouted the centaur, kissing Commander Vinyaya soundly on the cheek.
‘Alive and reasonably well, apart from elevated blood pressure and next to zero magic in her tank.“
‘And where is she?“ asked Vinyaya, smiling.
Foaly enlarged the locator section of the screen.
‘On her way up E7, in the shuttle that was stolen by Mulch Diggums, if I’m not mistaken.“
Sool was delighted. “Let me get this straight. Murder suspect Holly Short is in a stolen chute next to the Zito probe.”
‘That’s right.“
‘That would make her the prime suspect in any irregularities concerning the probe.“
Foaly was very tempted to actually trample Sool, but he held his temper in check, for Holly’s sake. “All I’m asking, Sool, is that you give me a green light to send the supersonic shuttle to investigate. If I’m right, then your first act as Commander will be to avert a calamity.”
‘And if you’re wrong? Which you probably are.“
‘If I’m wrong, then you get to bring in public enemy number one, Captain Holly Short.“
Sool stroked his goatee. It was a win-win situation. “Very well. Send the shuttle. How long will it take to prep?”Decorative wire mesh
Foaly pulled a phone from his pocket and hit a number on the speed dial.
‘Major Kelp,“ he said into the mouthpiece.
‘Green light. Go.“ Foaly smiled at Ark Sool. ”I briefed Major Kelp on my way over. I felt sure you’d see it my way.
Commanders generally do.“
Sool scowled. “Don’t get familiar with me, ponyboy. This is not the start of a beautiful relationship. I’m sending the shuttle because it is the only option. If you are somehow manipulating me, or bending the truth, I will bury you in tribunal hearings for the next five years. Then I will fire you.”
Foaly ignored him. There would be plenty of time for trading threats later. He needed to concentrate on the shuttle’s progress. He had gone through the shock of Holly’s death once before; he did not intend to go through it again.

E7
Mulch Diggums could have been an athlete. He had the jaw and recycling equipment for sprint digging, or even cross-country. Plenty of natural ability, but no dedication.
He tried it for a couple of months in college, but the strict regime of training and diet did not suit him. Mulch could still remember his college tunneling coach giving him a pep talk after training one night.
‘You got the jaw, Diggums,“ the old dwarf admitted. ”And you sure got the behind. I ain’t never seen no one who could pump out the bubbles like you do. But you ain’t got the heart, and that’s what’s important.“
Maybe the old dwarf was right: Mulch never did have the heart for selfless activity. Tunneling was a lonely job, and there wasn’t much money in it either.
And because it was an ethnic sport, the TV networks were not interested. No advertising meant no big pay deals for the athletes. Mulch decided his digging prowess could be more profitably utilized on the shady side of the law. Maybe if he had some gold, then female dwarfs would be more likely to return his calls.
And now here he was, breaking all his rules, preparing to break into a craft that was bristling with fairy sensors and occupied by armed hostiles. Just to help someone else.
Of all the vehicles on the planet or under it, Artemis just had to get into the most technologically advanced shuttle in existence. Every square inch of the stealth shuttle’s plating would be alarmed with lasers, motion sensors, static sheets, and who knew what else. Still, alarms were no good if they weren’t activated, and that was what Mulch was counting on.
Mulch waved good-bye in the general direction of the shuttle, just in case anyone was still watching him, and traversed the rocky outcrop to the safety of the chute wall. Dwarfs do not like heights, and being technically below sea level was not helping his vertigo.
The dwarf sank his fingers into a vein of soft clay sprouting through the rock wall. Home. Anywhere on earth was Home to a dwarf, as long as there was clay. Mulch felt calm settle over him. He was safe now, for the time being, at any rate.
The dwarf unhinged his jaw with twin cracks that would make any other sentient species wince. He popped the snaps on his bum-flap and launched himself into the clay. His gnashing teeth scooped buckets of clay from the chute wall, creating an instant tunnel. Mulch crawled into the space, sealing the cavity behind him with recycled clay from his rear end.
After half a dozen mouthfuls, the sonar filaments in his hair detected a shelf of rock ahead, so he adjusted his course accordingly. The stealth shuttle would not be set down on rock because it was top of the range, and as such would have a battery rod. The rods telescoped from the belly of the ship, drilling fifty feet below the ground and recharging the shuttle’s batteries with the power of the earth. The cleanest of energies.
The battery rod vibrated slightly as it harvested, and it was this vibration that Mulch Homed in on now. It took him just over five minutes of steady munching to clear the rock shelf and reach the tip of the battery rod. The vibrations had already loosened the earth, and it was a simple matter for Mulch to clear himself a little cave. He spread saliva on the walls and waited.
Holly piloted the LEP craft through the small shuttleport, overriding the shuttle doors with her Recon access code. Police Plaza hadn’t bothered to change her code, because as far as they were concerned, she was dead.
A sheet of black rain clouds was spreading shadows across the Italian countryside as they cleared the holographic outcrop that shielded the shuttleport. A light frost coated the reddish clay, and a southerly wind lifted the shuttle’s tail.
‘We can’t stay out here for long,“ said Holly, throttling back to a hover. ”This transporter doesn’t have defenses.“
‘We won’t need long,“ said Artemis. ”Fly in a grid search pattern, as though we’re not certain where exactly the stealth shuttle is.“Decorative wire mesh
Holly punched some coordinates into the flight computer. “You’re the genius.”
Artemis turned to Butler, who was cross-legged in the aisle. “Now, old friend, can you make certain that Opal is looking this way?”
‘Can do,“ said Butler, crawling to the port side exit. He knuckled the access button and the door slid back. The shuttle bucked slightly as the cabin pressure equalized then settled.
Butler opened his bag of weaponry and selected a handful of metal spheres, roughly the size of tennis balls. He flicked back the safety cap on one, then depressed the button below with his thumb. The button began to rise to its original position.
‘Ten seconds until the button is flush with the surface. Then it makes a connection.“
‘Thank you for the lecture,“ said Artemis dryly. ”Though now is hardly the time.“
Butler smiled, tossing the metal sphere into the air. Five seconds later it exploded, blowing a small crater in the earth below. Scorch lines emanated from the crater, giving it the appearance of a black flower.Decorative wire mesh
‘I bet Opal is looking now,“ said Butler, priming the next grenade. ‘I’m sure others will be looking soon. Explosions don’t tend to go unnoticed for long. We are relatively isolated here. The nearest village is approximately ten miles away. If we are lucky, that gives us a ten-minute window. Next grid square, please, Holly. But not too close; we don’t want to scare them off.“
Fifty feet below the ground, Mulch Diggums waited in his little DIY cave, watching the tip of the battery rod. As soon as it stopped vibrating, he began working his way upward through the loose clay. The telescopic rod was warm to the touch, heated by the energy it conducted to the shuttle’s batteries. Mulch used it to help him on his journey, pulling himself upward, hand over hand.

The Opal Deception(10)DADDY’S GIRL

2008-11-13T23:04:00.000-08:00

Chapter 9: DADDY’S GIRL

The Zito Earth Farm; The Messina Province, Sicily

Opal’s plan to bring the human and fairy worlds together was one of simplicity in its execution, but genius in its conception. She simply had made it easier for a human to do what he was already thinking of doing. Almost every major energy company in the world had a core probe file, but their ideas were all hypothetical, considering the amount of explosives needed to blast through the crust, and the iron necessary to get the probe through the mantle.Galvanized iron wire

Opal picked Giovanni Zito from her list of prospective puppets because of two things: Zito had a large fortune, and land directly above a huge high-grade hematite orebody.

Giovanni Zito was a Sicilian engineer and a pioneer in the field of alternative power sources. A committed environmentalist, Zito developed ways of generating electricity without stripping the land or destroying the environment. The invention that had made his fortune was the Zito solar-mill. A windmill with solar panels for blades, making it many times more efficient than conventional mills.

Six weeks earlier, Zito had returned from an environmental summit in Geneva, where he had delivered the keynote address to ministers of the European Union. By the time he reached his villa on the shores of the Strait of Messina, the sunset was dropping orange blobs in the water, and Giovanni was exhausted. Talking to politicians was difficult. Even the ones who were genuinely interested in the environment were hamstrung by the ones in the pockets of big Business. The polluticians, as the media had nicknamed them. Galvanized iron wire

Giovanni ran himself a bath. The water was heated by solar panels on his roof. In fact, the entire villa was self- sufficient when it came to power. There was enough juice in the solar batteries to keep the house hot and lit for six months. All with zero emissions.

After his bath, Zito wrapped himself in a dressing gown and poured a glass of Bordeaux, settling into his favorite armchair.

Giovanni took a long draft of wine, willing the day’s tension to evaporate. He cast his eyes over the familiar row of framed photographs on his wall. Most were magazine covers celebrating his technological innovations, but his favorite one, the one that made him famous, was the Time magazine cover that showed a younger Giovanni Zito astride a humpback whale, with a whaling ship looming over them both. The unfortunate creature had strayed into shallow waters and could not dive. So Zito had leaped from a conservationists’ dinghy onto the creature’s back, thus shielding it from the whalers’ harpoons. Someone on the dinghy had snapped a photo, and that photo had become one of the most famous media images of the last century. Galvanized iron wire

Zito smiled. Heady days. He was about to close his eyes for a quick nap before dinner, when something moved in the shadows in the corner of the room. Something small, barely the height of the table.

Zito sat straight up in his chair. “What’s that? Is somebody there?”

A lamp flicked on to reveal a small girl perched on a log stool. She held the lamp cord in her hand and seemed not in the least afraid or upset in any way. In fact the girl was calm and composed, regarding Zito as if he were the intruder.

Giovanni stood. “Who are you, little one? Why are you here?”

The girl fixed him with the most incredible eyes.

Deep brown eyes. Deep as a vat of chocolate.

‘I am here for you, Giovanni,“ she said in a voice as beautiful as her eyes. In fact, everything about the girl was beautiful. Her porcelain features. And those eyes. They would not let him go.

Zito fought her spell. “For me? What do you mean? Is your mother nearby?”

The girl smiled. “Not nearby, no. You are my family now.”

Giovanni tried to make sense of this simple sentence, but he could not. Was it really important?

Those eyes, and that voice. So melodic. Layers of crystal tinkling.

Humans react differently to the fairy mesmer.

Most fall immediately under its hypnotic spell, but there are those with strong minds who need to be pushed a little. And the more they are pushed, the greater the risk of brain damage.

‘I am your family now?“ said Zito slowly, as though he were searching each word for meaning.

‘Yes, human,“ snapped Opal impatiently, pushing harder. ”My family. I am your daughter, Belinda. You adopted me last month, secretly. The papers are in your bureau.“

Giovanni’s eyes lost their focus.

‘Adopted? Bureau?“

Opal drummed her tiny fingers on the base of the lamp. She had forgotten how dull some humans could be, especially under the mesmer. Galvanized iron wire

And this one was supposed to be a genius.

‘Yes. Adopted. Bureau. You love me more than life, remember? You would do absolutely anything for your darling Belinda.“

A tear pooled on Zito’s eyelid.

‘Belinda. My little girl. I’d do anything for you, dear, anything.“

‘Yes, yes, yes,“ said Opal impatiently.

‘Of course. I said that. Just because you’re mesmerized doesn’t mean you have to repeat everything I say. That is so tiresome.“

Zito noticed two small creatures in the corner. Creatures with pointed ears. This fact penetrated the mesmer’s fugue.

‘I see. Over there. Are they human?“

Opal glowered at the Brill brothers. They were supposed to stay out of sight.

Mesmerizing a strong mind such as Zito’s was a delicate enough operation without distractions.

She added another layer to her voice. “You cannot see those figures. You will never see them again.”

Zito was relieved. “Of course. Good. Nothing at all. Mind playing tricks.” Galvanized iron wire

Opal scowled. What was it about humans and grammar? At the first sign of stress, it went out the window. Mind playing tricks. Really.

‘Now, Giovanni, Daddy. I think we need to talk about your next project.“

‘The water-powered car?“

‘No, idiot. Not the water-powered car. The core probe. I know you have designed one. Quite a good design for a human, though I will be making changes.“

‘The core probe. Impossible. Can’t get through crust. Don’t have enough iron.“

‘We can’t get through the crust.

We don’t have enough iron. Speak properly, for heaven’s sake. It’s trying enough speaking Mud Man without listening to your gibberish. Honestly, you human geniuses are not all you’re cracked up to be.“

Zito’s beleaguered brain made the effort. “I am sorry, dearest Belinda. I simply mean that the core probe project is long term. It will have to wait until we can find a practical way to gather the iron, and cut through the earth’s crust.”

Opal looked at the dazed Sicilian.

‘Poor dear stupid Daddy. You developed a super laser to cut through the crust. Don’t you remember?“

A dewdrop of sweat rolled down Zito’s cheek. “A super laser? Now that you mention it…”

‘And can you guess what you’ll find when you do cut through?“

Zito could guess. Part of his intellect was still his own. “A hematite orebody? It would have to be massive. Of very high grade.” Galvanized iron wire

Opal led him to the window. In the distance, the wind farm’s blades flashed in the starlight.

‘And where do you think we should dig?“

‘I think we should dig under the wind farm,“ said Zito, resting his forehead against the cool glass.

‘Very good, Daddy. If you dig there I will be ever so happy.“

Zito patted the pixie’s hair. “Ever so happy,” he said sleepily. “Belinda, my little girl. Papers are in bureau.”

‘The papers are in the bureau,“ corrected Opal. ”If you persist with this baby talk I will have to punish you.“

She wasn’t joking.

E7, Below the Mediterranean

Holly had to stay out of the major chutes on her way to the surface. Foaly had sensors monitoring all traffic through commercial and LEP routes. This meant navigating unlit meandering secondary chutes, but the alternative was being picked up by the centaur’s bugs and hauled back to Police Plaza before the job was done. Galvanized iron wire

Holly negotiated stalactites the size of skyscrapers, and skirted vast craters teeming with bioluminescent insect life. But instinct was doing the driving. Holly’s thoughts were a thousand miles away, reflecting on the events of the past twenty-four hours. It seemed as though her heart was finally catching up with her body.

All her previous adventures with Artemis were almost like comic book escapades compared to their current situation. It had always been happy ever after before. There had been a few close calls, but everyone had made it out alive. Holly studied her trigger finger. A faint scar circled the base where it had been severed during the Arctic incident. She could have healed the scar or covered it with a ring, but she preferred to keep it where she could see it. The scar was part of her. The commander had been a part of her too.

Her superior, her friend.

Sadness emptied her out, then filled her up again. For a while, thoughts of revenge had fuelled her. But now, even the thoughts of dumping Opal Koboi into a cold cell could not light a spark of vengeful joy in her heart. She would keep going to ensure that the People were safe from humans. Maybe when that task was done, it would be time to take a look at her life. Maybe there were a few things that needed changing. Galvanized iron wire

Artemis summoned everyone to the passenger area as soon as he had finished work on the computer. His new-old memories were giving him immense pleasure. As his fingers skimmed the Gnommish keyboard, he marveled at the ease with which he navigated the fairy platform. He marveled too at the technology itself, even though he was no stranger to it anymore.

The Irish boy felt the same thrill of rediscovery that a small child feels when he has chanced upon a lost favorite toy.

For the past hour, rediscovery had been a major theme in his life. Having a major theme for an hour doesn’t seem like much, but Artemis had a catalog of memories all clamoring to be acknowledged. The memories themselves were startling enough: boarding a radioactive train near Murmansk, or flying across the ocean concealed beneath LEP cam-foil. But it was the cumulative effect of these memories that interested Artemis. Galvanized iron wire

He could literally feel himself becoming a different person. Not exactly the way he used to be, but closer to that individual. Before the fairies had mind-wiped him as part of the Jon Spiro deal, his personality had been undergoing what could be seen as positive change. So much so that he had decided to go completely legitimate and donate ninety percent of Spiro’s massive fortune to Amnesty International. Since his mind wipe, he had reverted to his old ways, indulging his passion for criminal acts. Now he was somewhere in the middle.

He had no desire to hurt or steal from the innocent, but he was having difficulty giving up his criminal ways. Some people just needed to be stolen from.

Perhaps the biggest surprise was the desire he felt to help his fairy friends, and the real sadness he felt at the loss of Julius Root. Artemis was no stranger to loss; at one time or another, he had lost and found everyone close to him. Julius’s death cut him just as deeply as any of these. His drive to avenge the commander and stop Opal Koboi was more powerful than any criminal urge he had ever felt. Galvanized iron wire

Artemis smiled to himself. It seemed as though good was a more powerful motivation than bad. Who would have thought it?

The rest of the group gathered around the central holographic projector. Holly had parked the shuttle on the floor of a secondary chute close to the surface.

Butler was forced to squat on his hunkers in the fairy- sized ship.

‘Well, Artemis, what did you find out?“ asked the bodyguard, trying to fold his massive arms without knocking someone smaller over.

Artemis activated a holographic animation, which rotated slowly in the middle of the chamber. The animation showed a cutaway of the earth from crust to core. Artemis switched on a laser pointer and began his briefing. Galvanized iron wire

‘As you can see, there is a distance of approximately one thousand eight hundred miles from the earth’s surface to the outer core.“

The projection’s liquid outer core swirled and bubbled with molten magma.

‘However, mankind has never managed to penetrate more than nine miles through the crust. To go any deeper would necessitate the use of nuclear warheads, or huge amounts of dynamite. An explosion of this magnitude could possibly generate huge shifts in the earth’s tectonic plates, causing earthquakes and tidal waves around the globe.“

Mulch was, as usual, eating something. Nobody knew what, as he had emptied the food locker over an hour since. Nobody really wanted to ask either. “That doesn’t sound like a good thing.”

‘No, it isn’t,“ agreed Artemis. ”Which is why the ironclad probe theory has never been put into practice, until now. The original idea belongs to a New Zealander, Professor David Stevenson. It is quite brilliant, actually, if impractical. Encase a reinforced probe in a hundred million tons of molten iron. The iron will sink through the crack generated by the explosive, even closing the crack behind it. Within a week the probe will reach the core. The iron will be consumed by the outer core, and the probe will gradually disintegrate. The entire process is even environmentally sound.“

The projection put Artemis’s words into pictures. Galvanized iron wire

‘How come the iron doesn’t un-melt?“ asked Mulch.

Artemis raised a long thin eyebrow.

‘Un-melt? The orebody’s sheer size stops it from solidifying.“

Holly stood, stepping into the projection itself and studying the orebody. “Foaly must know all about this. Humans couldn’t keep something so big a secret.“

‘Indeed,“ said Artemis, opening a second holographic projection. ”I ran a search on the onboard database and found this: Foaly ran several computer simulations over eighty years ago.

He concluded that the best way to deal with the threat was to simply broadcast misinformation to whatever probe was being sent down. As far as the humans were concerned, their probe would simply sink through a couple hundred miles of various low-grade ore, and then the orebody would solidify. A resounding and very expensive failure.“

The computer simulation showed the information being broadcasted from Haven to the metal-encased probe.

Aboveground, cartoon human scientists scratched their heads and tore up their notes.

‘Most amusing,“ said Artemis.

Butler was studying the hologram. “I’ve been on enough campaigns to know that there is a big hole in that strategy, Artemis,” he said. Galvanized iron wire

‘Yes?“

Butler struggled to his knees and traced the probe’s path with a finger. “Well, what if the probe’s journey brought it into contact with one of the People’s chutes? Once that metal punctures that chute, it’s on an express ride to Haven.”

Artemis was delighted at his bodyguard’s astuteness. “Yes. Of course. Which is why there is a supersonic attack shuttle on standby twenty-four hours a day, to divert the molten mass if the need arises. All human probe projects are monitored, and if any are judged to pose a threat, they are quietly sabotaged.

If that doesn’t work, the LEP geological unit drills in under the molten mass and diverts it with some shaped charges. The orebody follows the new path blown for it, and Haven is safe. Of course, the mining shuttle has never been used.“

‘There’s another problem,“ added Holly. ”We have to factor in Opal’s involvement. She obviously has helped Giovanni Zito drill through the crust, possibly with a fairy laser. We can presume she has upgraded the probe itself so that Foaly’s false signals will not be accepted. So her plan must be to bring that probe into contact with the People. Galvanized iron wire

But how?“

Artemis launched a third holographic animation, shutting down the first two. This 3-D rendering portrayed Zito’s Earth Farm and the underlying crust and mantle.

‘This is what I think,“ he said. ”Zito, with Opal’s help, liquefies his orebody here. It begins to sink at a rate of sixteen feet per second toward the earth’s core, taking accurate readings, thanks to Koboi’s upgrades.

Meanwhile, Foaly thinks his plan is working perfectly. Now, at a depth of one hundred and six miles, the metal mass comes within three miles of this major chute, E7, which emerges in southern Italy. They run parallel for one hundred and eighty-six miles, then diverge again.

If Opal were to blow a crack between these two tunnels, the iron would follow the path of least resistance and flow into the chute.“

Holly felt the strength leave her limbs. “Into the chute, and straight down to Haven.”

‘Exactly,“ said Artemis. ”This particular chute runs in a jagged westerly diagonal for twelve hundred miles, coming within five hundred yards of the city itself. With the speed the orebody will build up in free fall, it will slice off a good half of the city. Everything that’s left will be broadcasting signals for the world to hear.“

‘But we have blast walls,“ objected Holly. Galvanized iron wire

Artemis shrugged. “Holly, there isn’t a force on earth powerful enough to stop a hundred million tons of molten hematite in free fall.

Anything that gets in the way will be obliterated.

Most of the iron will curve around and follow the tunnel, but enough will continue straight down to cut right through the blast walls.“

The shuttle’s occupants watched Artemis’s computer simulation in which the molten orebody smashed through Haven City ‘s defenses, allowing all the fairy electronic signals to be picked up by the probe.

‘We are looking at a fifty-eight percent casualty rate,“ said Artemis. ”Possibly more.“

‘How can Opal do this without Foaly’s sensors picking her up?“

‘Simple,“ replied Artemis. ”She merely plants a shaped charge in E7 at a depth of one hundred and five miles, detonating it at the last minute. That way, by the time Foaly detects the explosion, it will be too late to either disarm it or do anything about it.“

‘So we need to remove that charge.“

Artemis smiled. If only it were that simple.

‘Opal will not take any chances with the charge. If she left it on the chute wall for any amount of time, a tremor could shake it free, or one of Foaly’s sensors could pick it up. I’m sure the device is well shielded, but one leak in the plating could have it broadcasting like a satellite. No, Opal will not position the charge until the last minute.“

Holly nodded. “Okay. So we wait until she plants it, then we disarm it.”

‘No. If we wait in the chute, then Foaly will pick us up. If that happens, Opal will not even venture down the chute.“

‘That’s good, isn’t it?“

‘Not really. We may delay her for a few hours, but remember, Opal has a two-hundred-mile window to plant the charge. She can wait for the LEP to arrest us and still have ample time to complete her mission.“ Galvanized iron wire

Holly knuckled her eyes. “I don’t understand this. Surely everyone must know by now that Opal has escaped. Surely Foaly can put this all together.”

Artemis closed his fist. “There’s the rub. That single point is the essence of this entire situation. Foaly obviously doesn’t know that Opal has escaped. She would be the first person checked after the goblin general’s escape.“

‘She was checked. I was there. When Scalene escaped, Opal was still catatonic. There’s no way she could have planned it.“

‘And yet, she did,“ mused Artemis. ”Could that Opal have been a double?“

‘Not possible. They run DNA checks every day.“

‘So the Opal under surveillance had Koboi’s DNA, but little or no brain activity.“

‘Exactly. She’s been that way for a year.“

Artemis thought silently for over a minute. “I wonder how far cloning technology has developed underground?”

He crossed briskly to the main computer terminal and called up LEP files on the subject.

‘“The mature clone is identical to the original in every way, except that its brain functions are limited to life support,”“ he read. ”“In greenhouse conditions, it takes one to two years to grow a clone to adulthood.”’ Artemis stepped away from the computer, clapping his hands. “That’s it. That’s how she did it. She induced that coma so that her replacement would not be noticed. This is impressive stuff.” Galvanized iron wire

Holly pounded a fist into her palm. “So even if we did survive the attempts on our lives, all talk of Opal’s escape would be seen as the ravings of the guilty.”

‘I told Chix Verbil that Opal was back,“ said Mulch. ”That’s okay though, because he already thinks I’m raving.“

‘With Opal on the loose,“ continued the Irish youth, ”the entire LEP would be on the lookout for a plot of some kind. But with Opal still deep in her coma…“

‘There is no cause for alarm. And this probe is simply a surprise, and not an emergency.“

Artemis shut down the holographic projection. “So we’re on our own. We need to steal that final charge and detonate harmlessly above the parallel stretch. Not only that, but we need to expose Opal so she cannot simply put her plan into action all over again. Obviously to do this we need to find Opal’s shuttle.”

Mulch was suddenly uncomfortable. “You’re going after Koboi? Again? Well, best of luck. You can just drop me off at the next corner.”

Holly ignored him. “How long do we have?”

There was a calculator on the plasma screen, but Artemis didn’t need it. “The orebody is sinking at a rate of sixteen feet per second. Galvanized iron wire

That’s eleven miles per hour. At that speed it would take approximately nine and a half hours to reach the parallel stretch.“

‘Nine hours from now?“

‘No,“ corrected Artemis. ”From detonation, which was almost two hours ago.“

Holly walked rapidly into the cockpit and strapped herself into the pilot’s chair. “Seven and a half hours to save the world. Isn’t there some law that says we get at least twenty-four?”

Artemis strapped himself into the copilot’s chair.

‘I don’t think Opal bothers with laws,“ he said. ”Now, can you talk while you fly?

There are a few things I need to know about shuttles and charges.“

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2008-11-13T18:06:00.000-08:00

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The Opal Deception（9）SOME INTELLIGENT CONVERSATION

2008-11-10T16:41:00.000-08:00

Chapter 8: SOME INTELLIGENT CONVERSATION

Mulch had left the stolen LEP shuttle at the theme park gate. It had been a simple matter for Butler to disable the park’s cameras and remove a half-rotted section from the hemisphere’s roof in order to effect the rescue.
When they got back to the shuttle, Holly powered up the engines and ran a systems check.
‘What on earth were you doing, Mulch?“ she asked, amazed by the readings the computer was displaying. ”The computer says you came all the way down here in first gear.“
‘There are gears?“ said the dwarf. ”I thought this crate was automatic.“
‘Some jockeys prefer gears. Old-fashioned, I know, but more control around the bends. And another thing, you didn’t have to do that gas thing on the rope. There are plenty of stun grenades in the weapons locker.“
‘This thing has a locker too? Gears and lockers. Well, I never.“
Butler was giving Artemis a field physical.Decorative wire mesh
‘You seem all right,“ he said, placing a massive palm over Artemis’s chest. ”Holly fixed up your ribs, I see.“
Artemis was in a bit of a daze. Now that he was out of immediate danger, the day’s events were catching up to him. How many times could one person cheat death in twenty-four hours? Surely his odds were getting shorter.
‘Tell me, Butler,“ he whispered so the others wouldn’t hear, ”is it all true? Or is it a hallucination?“ Even as the words left his lips, Artemis realized that it was an impossible question. If this was all a hallucination, then his bodyguard was a dream, too.
‘I turned down gold, Butler,“ continued Artemis, still unable to accept his own grand gesture.
‘Me. I turned down gold.“
Butler smiled, much more the smile of a friend than a bodyguard. “That doesn’t surprise me one bit. You were becoming quite charitable before the mind wipe.”
Artemis frowned. “Of course you would say that, if you were part of the hallucination.”
Mulch was eavesdropping on the conversation and couldn’t resist a comment. “Didn’t you smell what I shot those trolls with? You think you could hallucinate that, Mud Boy?”
Holly started the engines. “Hold on back there,” she called over her shoulder. “It’s time to go.
The sensors picked up some shuttles sweeping local chutes. The authorities are looking for us.
I need to get us somewhere off the charts.“
Holly teased the throttle and lifted them smoothly from the ground. If the shuttle had not had portholes, the passengers might not have noticed the takeoff.
Butler elbowed Mulch. “Did you see that?
That’s a takeoff. I hope you learned something.“
The dwarf was highly offended. “What do I have to do to get a bit of respect around here? You are all alive because of me, and all I get is abuse.”
Butler laughed. “Okay, little friend. I apologize. We owe you our lives, and I, for one, will never forget it.”Decorative wire mesh
Artemis followed this interaction curiously. “I would deduce that you remember everything, Butler.
If, for a moment, I accept this situation as reality, then your memory must have been stimulated. Did I, perhaps, leave something behind?“
Butler pulled the laser disk from his pocket.
‘Oh yes, Artemis. There was a message on this disk for me. You left yourself a message, too.“
Artemis took the disk. “At last,” he said.
‘Some intelligent conversation.“
Artemis found a small bathroom at the rear of the shuttle. The in-door toilet itself was only to be used in an emergency, and the seat was made from a spongy material which Mulch had assured him would break down any waste as it passed through. Artemis decided he would test the filter at another time, and sat on a small ledge by the porthole.
There was a plasma screen on the wall, presumably for in-restroom entertainment. All he had to do was slip the computer disk into the drive below the screen, and his fairy memories would be returned to him. A whole new world. An old one.
Artemis spun the disk between his thumb and forefinger.
Psychologically speaking, if he loaded this disk it meant that some part of him accepted the truth of all this. Putting the disk in the slot could plunge him deeper into some kind of psychotic episode. Not putting it in could condemn the world to a war between species. The fairy and human worlds would collide.
What would father do?
Artemis asked himself.
He loaded the disk.
Two files appeared on the desktop, marked with animated 3-D GIF’S, something the fairy system had obviously added on. Both were tagged with the file names in English and the fairy language.Decorative wire mesh
Artemis selected his own file by touching the plasma screen’s transparent covering. The file glowed orange, then expanded to fill this e screen. Artemis saw himself in Fowl Manor, sitting at his desk in the study.
‘Greetings,“ said the screen Artemis. ”How nice for you to see me. Doubtless, this will be the first intelligent conversation you have had for some time.“
The real Artemis smiled. “Correct,” he replied.
‘I paused for a second there,“ continued the screen Artemis. ”To give you a chance to respond, thus qualifying this as a conversation. There will be no more pausing, as time is limited. Captain Holly Short is downstairs being distracted by Juliet, but doubtless she will check on me soon.
We depart for Chicago presently to deal with Mr.
Jon Spiro, who has stolen something from me. The price of fairy assistance in this matter is a mind wipe. All memories of the People will be erased forever, unless I leave a message for my future self, thus prompting recall. This is that message. The following video footage contains specific details of my involvement with the Fairy People. I hope this information will get those brain cell pathways sparking again.“
Artemis rubbed his forehead. The vague mysterious flashes persisted. It seemed as though his brain was ready to rebuild those pathways. All he needed was the right stimulus.
‘In conclusion,“ said the screen Artemis. ”I would like to wish you, myself, the best of luck. And welcome back.“
The next hour passed in a blur. Images flashed from the screen, adhering to empty spaces in Artemis’s brain. Each memory felt right the instant Artemis processed it.
Of course, he thought. This explains everything. I had the mirrored contact lenses made so I could lie to the fairies and hide the existence of this journal. I fixed Mulch Diggums’s search warrant so that he could return the disk to me.Decorative wire mesh
Butler looks older because he is older; the fairy healing in London saved his life, but cost him fifteen years.
The memories were not all proud ones. I kidnapped Captain Short. I imprisoned Holly. How could I have done that?
He could not deny it any longer. This was all true. Everything that his eyes had seen was real. The fairies existed and his life had been intertwined with theirs for more than two years. A million images sprouted in his consciousness, rebuilding electric bridges in his brain. They strobed behind his eyes in a confusing display of color and wonder. A lesser mind than Artemis’s could have been utterly exhausted, but the Irish boy was exhilarated.
I know it all now, he thought. I beat Koboi before, and I will do it again. This determination was fuelled by sadness. Commander Root is gone. Koboi took him from his People.
Artemis had known this earlier, but now it meant something.
There was one other thought, more persistent than the rest.
It crashed into his mind like a tsunami.
I have friends? thought Artemis Fowl the Second.
I have friends.
Artemis emerged from the bathroom a different person. Physically, he was still battered, bruised, and exhausted, but emotionally he felt prepared for everything that lay ahead. If a body language analyst had studied him at that moment, they would have observed his relaxed shoulders and open palms, and would have concluded that this was, psychologically speaking, a more welcoming and trustworthy individual than the one who had entered the bathroom an hour since.Decorative wire mesh
The shuttle was parked in a secondary chute off the beaten track, and the occupants were at the mess table. A selection of LEP field ration packs had been torn open and devoured. The biggest pile of foil packs was stacked in front of Mulch Diggums.
Mulch glanced at Artemis and noticed the change immediately. “About time you got your head in order,” grunted Mulch, struggling from his chair.
‘I need to get into that bathroom urgently.“
‘Nice to see you too, Mulch,“ said Artemis, stepping aside to allow the dwarf past.
Holly froze, a sachet of juice halfway to her mouth. “You remember him?”
Artemis smiled. “Of course, Holly. We have known each other for more than two years.”
Holly jumped from her chair and clasped Artemis by the shoulders. “Artemis. It’s great to see the real you. The gods know we need Artemis Fowl right now.”
‘Well, he’s here and ready for duty, Captain.“
‘Do you remember everything?“
‘Yes. I do. And first of all, let me apologize for that consultant Business. That was very rude. Please forgive me.“
‘But what made you remember?“ asked the elf.
‘Don’t tell me a visit to the bathroom jogged your memory.“
‘Not exactly.“ Artemis held up the computer disk. ”I gave this to Mulch. It is my video diary. He was supposed to return it to me upon his release from prison.“
Holly shook her head. “That’s not possible.
Mulch was searched by experts. The only thing you gave him was the gold medallion.“
Artemis angled the disk so it caught the light.
‘Of course“ groaned Holly, slapping her forehead. “You passed off that disk as the gold medallion. Very clever.”
Artemis shrugged. “Genius, actually. It seems merely clever in hindsight, but the original idea was pure genius,”
Holly cocked her head. “Genius. Of course. Believe it or not I actually missed that smug grin.”
Artemis took a breath. “I am so sorry about Julius. I know our relationship was a rocky one, but I had nothing but respect and admiration for the commander.”
Holly wiped her eyes with the heels of her hands.
She said nothing, just nodded. If Artemis needed another reason to go after Opal Koboi, the sight of the elfin captain so disturbed was it.Decorative wire mesh
Butler ate the contents of a field ration pack in one mouthful. “Now that we’re all reacquainted, we should try to track Opal Koboi down. It’s a big world.”
Artemis waved his fingers dismissively. “No need. I know exactly where our would-be murderer is. Like all megalomaniacs, she has a tendency to show off.” He crossed to a plastic computer keyboard on the wall and called up a map of Europe.
‘I see your Gnommish has come back to you,“ sniffed Holly.
‘Of course,“ said Artemis, enlarging part of the map. ”Opal revealed a little bit more of her plan than she knew. She let two words slip, though one would have been sufficient. She said that her human name was to be Belinda Zito. Now, if you wished to lead the humans to the Fairy People, who better to have adopt you than the renowned billionaire environmentalist Giovanni Zito?“
Holly crossed the shuttle deck to the screen.
‘And where would we find Dr. Zito?“
Artemis tapped a few keys, zooming in on Sicily. “At his world-famous Earth Ranch. Right there in the Messina province,” he said.
Mulch stuck his head out of the bathroom. The rest was mercifully hidden behind the door.
‘Did I hear you talking about a Mud Man named Zito?“
Holly turned toward the dwarf, then kept right on turning. “Yes. So what? And for heaven’s sake close the door.”
Mulch pulled the door so only a crack remained. “I was just watching a bit of human television in here, as you do. Well there’s a Zito person on CNN. Do you think it’s the same person?”
Holly grabbed a remote control from the desktop. “I really hope not,” she said. “But I’d bet my life it is.”
A group of scientists appeared on the screen.
They were gathered in what looked like a prefabricated laboratory, and each wore a white coat. One stood out from the rest. He was in his mid-forties, with tanned skin, strong handsome features, and long, dark hair curling over his collar. He wore rimless glasses and a lab coat. A striped Versace shirt protruded from beneath his white lapels.
‘Giovanni Zito,“ said Artemis.Decorative wire mesh
‘It is incredible, really,“ Zito was telling a reporter in slightly accented English. ”We have sent crafts to other planets, and yet we have no idea what lies beneath our feet. Scientists can tell us the chemical makeup of Saturn’s rings, but we don’t honestly know what lies at the center of our own planet.“
‘But probes have been sent down before,“ said the reporter, trying to pretend he hadn’t just picked up this knowledge from his earpiece.
‘Yes,“ agreed Zito. ”But only to a depth of about nine miles. We need to get through to the outer core itself, almost two thousand miles down. Imagine if the currents of liquid metal in the outer core could be harnessed. There’s enough free energy in that metal to power mankind’s machines forever.“
The reporter was skeptical. At least, the real scientist speaking in his earpiece told him to be skeptical. “But this is all speculation, Dr. Zito. Surely a voyage to the center of the earth is nothing but a fantasy? Possible only in the pages of science fiction.“
A brief flash of annoyance clouded Giovanni Zito’s features. “This is no fantasy, sir, I assure you. This is no fantastical voyage. We are sending an unmanned probe, bristling with sensors. Whatever is down there. We will find it.”
The reporter’s eyes widened in panic as a particularly technical question came over his earpiece. He listened for several seconds, mouthing the words as he heard them.
‘Dr. Zito, eh… This probe you are sending down, I believe it will be encased in one hundred million tons of molten iron at about five and a half thousand degrees Celsius. Is that correct?“
‘Absolutely,“ confirmed Zito.Decorative wire mesh
The reporter looked relieved. “Yes. I knew that. Anyway, my point is, it would take several years to gather so much iron. So why did you ask us here today?”
Zito clapped his hands excitedly. “This is the wonderful part. As you know the core probe was a long-term project. I had planned to accumulate the iron over the next ten years. But now, laser drilling has revealed a deep orebody of hematite, iron ore, on the bottom edge of the crust right here in Sicily. It’s incredibly rich, perhaps eighty- five percent iron. All we need to do is detonate several charges inside that deposit and we have our molten iron. I have already secured the mining permits from the government.”
The reporter asked the next question all on his own.
‘So, Dr. Zito, when do you detonate?“
Giovanni Zito removed two thick cigars from his lab coat pocket. “We detonate today,” he said, passing a cigar to the reporter. “Ten years early. This is a historic moment.” Zito opened the office curtains, revealing a fenced-off area of scrubland below the window. A metallic section of piping protruded from the earth in the center of the three-foot-square enclosure. As they watched, a crew of workmen clambered from the piping, moving hurriedly away from the opening.
Wisps of gaseous coolant spiraled from the pipe. The men climbed into a golf trolley and exited the compound. They took shelter in a concrete bunker at the perimeter.
‘There are several megatons of TNT buried at strategic points inside the orebody,“ explained Zito. ”If this was detonated on the surface, it would cause an earthquake measuring seven on the Richter scale.“
The reporter swallowed nervously. “Really?”
Zito laughed. “Don’t worry. The charges are shaped. The blast is focused down and in. The iron will be liquefied and begin its descent to the earth’s core, carrying the probe with it. We will feel nothing.”
‘Down and in ??? all you’re sure about that?“
‘positive,“ said Zito. ”We are perfectly safe here.“
On the wall behind the Italian doctor, a speaker squawked three times. “Dottore Zito,” said a gruff voice. “All clear.Decorative wire mesh
All clear.“
Zito picked a black remote detonator from the desk.
‘The time has come,“ he said dreamily. He looked straight into the camera. ”My darling Belinda, this is for you.“
Zito pressed the button and waited, wide eyed. The room’s other occupants, the dozen or so scientists and technicians, turned anxiously to various readout panels and monitors.
‘We have detonation,“ announced one.
Sixteen yards belowground, forty-two shaped charges exploded, simultaneously liquefying one hundred and eighteen million tons of iron. The rock content was pulverized and absorbed by the metal.
A pillar of smoke blew out of the cylindrical opening, but there was no detectable vibration.
‘The probe is functioning at one hundred percent,“ said a technician.
Zito breathed out. “That was our big worry.
Even though the probe is designed for exactly these conditions, the world has never seen this kind of explosion before.“ He turned to another lab worker.
‘Any movement?“
The man hesitated before answering. “Yes, Dr. Zito. We have vertical movement. Sixteen feet per second. Exactly as you hypothesized.“
Below the earth’s crust, a behemoth of iron and rock began its painstaking descent toward the earth’s core. It chugged and churned, bubbling and hissing, prying apart the mantle below it. Inside the molten mass, a grapefruit- sized probe continued to broadcast data.
Spontaneous euphoria erupted in the laboratory. Men and women hugged each other.
Cigars were lit and champagne corks popped.
Someone even pulled out a violin.Decorative wire mesh
‘We are on our way,“ shouted a jubilant Zito, lighting the reporter’s cigar. ”Man is going to the center of the earth. Look out below!“
In the stolen LEP shuttle, Holly froze the picture. Zito’s triumphant features were spread across the screen.
‘Look out below,“ she repeated glumly. ”Man is coming to the center of the earth.“
The moods in the shuttle ranged from glum to desolate. Holly was taking it especially hard. The entire fairy civilization was under threat yet again, and this time Commander Root wasn’t around to meet the challenge. Not only that, but since the LEP pursuit pods had blown out their communications, there was no way to warn Foaly about the probe.
‘I have no doubt he already knows,“ said Artemis.
‘That centaur monitors all the human news channels.“
‘But he doesn’t know that Opal Koboi is giving Zito the benefit of her fairy knowledge.“ She pointed at Giovanni’s image on the screen.
‘Look at his eyes. The poor man has been mesmerized so many times that his pupils are actually ragged.“
Artemis stroked his chin thoughtfully. “If I know Foaly, he’s been monitoring this project since its initiation. He probably already has a contingency plan.”
‘I’m sure he has. A contingency plan for a crackpot scheme in ten years’ time that will probably never work.“
‘Of course,“ agreed Artemis. ”As opposed to a scientifically viable scheme, right now, that has every chance of succeeding.“
Holly headed for the cockpit. “I have to turn myself in, even if I am a murder suspect.
There is more at stake here than my future.“
‘Steady on,“ objected Mulch. ”I broke out of prison for you. I have no desire to be shoved back in again.“
Artemis stepped in front of her. “Wait a minute, Holly. Think about what will happen if you do turn yourself in.”
‘Artemis is right,“ added Butler. ”You should think about this. If the LEP is anything like human police forces, fugitives are not exactly welcomed with open arms. Open cell doors, maybe.“
Holly forced herself to stop and think, but it was difficult. Every second she waited was another second for the giant iron slug to eat its way through the mantle.Decorative wire mesh
‘If I give myself up to Internal Affairs, I will be taken into custody. As an LEP officer, I can be held for seventy- two hours without counsel. As a murder suspect I can be held for up to a week. Even if someone did believe that I was completely innocent, and that Opal Koboi was behind all this, it would still take at least eight hours to get clearance for an operation. But in all likelihood, my claims would be dismissed as the standard protests of the guilty. Especially with you three backing up my story. No offense.“
‘None taken,“ said Mulch.
Holly sat down, cradling her head in her hands. “My world is utterly gone. I keep thinking there will be a way back, but things just keep spinning farther and farther out of control.”
Artemis placed a hand on her shoulder.
‘Courage, Captain. Ask yourself, what would the commander do?“ backslash Holly took three deep breaths, then sprang from her seat, back stiff with determination. ”Don’t you try to manipulate me, Artemis Fowl. I make my own decisions. Even so, Julius would take care of Opal Koboi himself. So that’s what we’re going to do.“
‘Excellent,“ said Artemis. ”In that case, we will need a strategy.“
‘Right. I’ll fly the shuttle; you put that brain of yours to work and come up with a plan.“
‘Each to his own,“ said the boy. He sat in one of the shuttle’s chairs, gently massaged his temples with his fingertips, and began to think.Decorative wire mesh

The Opal Deception（8）THE TEMPLE OF ARTEMIS

2008-11-09T17:40:00.000-08:00

Chapter 7: THE TEMPLE OF ARTEMIS

The Lower Elements

Opal Koboi’s shuttle was a concept model that had never gone into mass production. It was years ahead of anything on the market, but its skin of stealth ore and cam-foil made the cost of such a vehicle so exorbitant that even Opal Koboi couldn’t have afforded one without the government grants that had helped to pay for it.Grassland Fence
Scant secured the prisoners into the passenger bay, while Merv piloted them across to Scotland, then underground through a mountain river in the highlands. Opal busied herself making sure that her other plan, the one involving world domination, was proceeding smoothly.
She closed the screen on her video phone and dialed a connection to Sicily.
The person at the other end picked up in the middle of the first ring. “Belinda, my dear. Is it you?”
The man who had answered was in his late forties, with Latin good looks and gray-streaked black hair framing his tanned face. He wore a white lab coat over an open-necked striped Versace shirt.
‘Yes, Papa. It’s me. Don’t worry, I am safe.“
Opal’s voice was layered with the hypnotic mesmer.
The poor human was utterly in her power, as he had been for over a month.
‘When are you coming Home, my dear? I miss you.“
‘Today, Papa, in a few hours. How is everything there?“ The man smiled dreamily.
‘Molto bene. Wonderful. The weather is fine. We can take a drive to the mountains. Perhaps I can teach you to ski.“
Opal frowned impatiently. “Listen to me, idiota… Papa. How is everything with the probe? Are we on schedule?“ For a moment, a flash of annoyance wrinkled the Italian’s brow, then he was bewitched again.Grassland Fence
‘Yes, my dear.
Everything is on schedule. The explosive pods are being buried to the probe’s systems’ check was a resounding success.“
Opal clapped her hands, the picture of a delighted daughter. “Excellent, Papa. You are so good to your little Belinda. I will be with you soon.”
‘Hurry Home, my dear,“ said the man, utterly lost without the creature he believed to be his daughter.
Opal ended the call. “Fool,” she said contemptuously. But Giovanni Zito would be allowed to live at least until the probe he was constructing to her specifications punctured the Lower Elements. Now that she had spoken to Zito, Opal was eager to concentrate on the probe portion of her plan. Revenge was certainly sweet, but it was also a distraction. Perhaps she should just dump these two from the shuttle and let the earth’s magma core have them.
‘Merv,“ she barked. ”How long to the theme park?“
Merv checked the instruments on the shuttle’s dashboard.
‘We’ve just entered the main chute network, Miss Koboi. Five hours,“ he called over his shoulder. ”Perhaps less.“
Five hours, mused Opal, curling in her bucket seat like a contented cat. She could spare five hours.
Some time later, Artemis and Holly were stirring in their seats. Scant helped them into consciousness with a couple of jolts from a buzz baton.
‘Welcome back to the land of the condemned,“ said Opal. ”How do you like my shuttle?“
The craft was impressive, even if it was ferrying Artemis and Holly to their deaths. The seats were covered with illegally harvested fur, and the decor was plusher than your average palace. There were small entertainment hologram cubes suspended from the ceiling, in case the passengers wanted to watch a movie.Grassland Fence
Holly began to squirm when she noticed what she was sitting on. “Fur! You animal.”
‘No,“ said Opal. ”You’re sitting on the animals. As I told you, I am human now. And that is what humans do, skin animals for their own comfort. Isn’t that right, Master Fowl?“
‘Some do,“ said Artemis coolly. ”Not me personally.“
‘Really, Artemis,“ said Opal archly. ”I hardly think that qualifies you for sainthood. From what I hear, you’re just as eager to exploit the People as I am.“
‘Perhaps. I don’t remember.“
Opal rose from her seat and fixed herself a light salad from the buffet. “Of course, they mind-wiped you. But surely you must remember now? Not even your subconscious could deny that this is happening.”
Artemis concentrated. He could remember something.
Vague out of focus images. Nothing very specific. “I do remember something.”
Opal lifted her eyes from her plate.
‘Yes?“
Artemis fixed her with a cool stare. “I remember how Foaly defeated you before with superior intellect. I am certain he will do it again.”
Of course, Artemis had not truly remembered this; he was simply repeating what Holly had told him. But the statement had the desired effect.
‘That ridiculous centaur!“ shrieked Opal, hurling her plate against the wall. ”He was lucky, and I was hampered by that idiot Cudgeon. Not this time. This time I am the architect of my own fate. And of yours.“
‘And what is it this time?“ Artemis asked mockingly. ”Another orchestrated rebellion? Or perhaps a mechanical dinosaur?“
Opal’s face grew white with rage. “Is there no end to your impudence, Mud Boy? No small-scale rebellions this time. I have a grander vision. I will lead the humans to the People. When the two worlds collide, there will be a war and my adopted people will win.”Grassland Fence
‘You’re a fairy, Koboi,“ interjected Holly. ”One of us. Rounded ears don’t change that. Don’t you think the humans will notice when you don’t get any taller?“
Opal patted Holly’s cheek almost affectionately. “My poor, dear, underpaid police officer. Don’t you think I thought of all this while I stewed in that coma for almost a year? Don’t you think I thought of everything? I have always known humans would discover us eventually, so I have prepared.” Opal leaned over, parting her jet-black hair to reveal a magically fading three-inch scar on her scalp.
‘Getting my ears rounded wasn’t the only surgery I had done. I also had something inserted in my skull.“
‘A pituitary gland,“ guessed Artemis.
‘Very good, Mud Boy. A rather tiny artificial human pituitary gland. HGH is one of seven hormones secreted by the pituitary.“
‘HGH?“ interrupted Holly.
‘Human growth hormone,“ explained Artemis.
‘Exactly. As the name implies, HGH enhances the growth of various organs and tissues, especially muscle and bone. In three months, I have already grown half an inch. Oh, maybe I’ll never make the basketball team, but no one will ever believe that I am a fairy.“
‘You’re no fairy,“ said Holly bitterly.
‘At heart you’ve always been human.“
‘That’s supposed to be an insult, I suppose. Maybe I deserve that, considering what I am about to do to you. In an hour’s time, there won’t be enough of you two remaining to fill the booty box.“
This was a term that Artemis had not heard before.
‘Booty box“ That sounds like a pirate expression.“
Opal opened a secret panel in the flooring, revealing a small compartment underneath. “This is a booty box. The term was coined by vegetable smugglers more than eight thousand years ago. A secret compartment that would go unnoticed by customs officials. Of course, these days, with X-ray, infrared, and motion-sensitive cameras, a booty box isn’t much good.” Opal smiled slyly, like a child who has put one over on her teacher. “Unless of course the box is completely constructed from stealth ore, refrigerated, and has internal projectors to fool X-ray and infrared. The only way to detect this booty box is to put your foot into it. So, even if the LEP did board my shuttle, they would not find whatever it is I am choosing to smuggle.Grassland Fence
Which in this case is a jar of chocolate truffles. Hardly illegal, but the cooler is full. Chocolate truffles are my passion, you know. All that time I was away, truffles were one of two things I craved. The other was revenge.“
Artemis yawned. “How fascinating. A secret compartment. What a genius you are. How can you fail to take over the world with a booty box full of truffles?”
Opal smoothed Artemis’s hair back from his forehead. “Make all the jokes you want, Mud Boy. Words are all you have now.”
Minutes later, Merv brought the stealth shuttle in to land. Artemis and Holly were cuffed and led down the retractable gangplank. They emerged into a giant tunnel dimly illuminated by Glo-Strips. Most of the lighting panels were shattered, the rest were on their last legs. This section of the chute had once been part of a thriving metropolis, but now was completely deserted and derelict. Demolition notices were pasted across various drooping billboards.
Opal pointed to one. “This whole place is being torn down in a month. We just made the deadline.”
‘Lucky us,“ muttered Holly.
Merv and Scant prodded them wordlessly along the chute with their gun barrels. The road surface beneath their feet was buckled and cracked. Swear toads clustered in damp patches, spouting obscenities.
The roadside was lined with abandoned concession stands and souvenir shops.
In one window, human dolls were arranged in various warlike poses.
Artemis stopped in spite of the gun at his back. “Is that how you see us?” he asked.
‘Oh, no,“ said Opal. ”You’re much worse than that, but the manufacturers don’t want to scare the children.“
Several huge hemispherical structures squatted at the end of the tunnel. Each one the size of a football stadium. They were constructed of hexagonal panels welded together along the seams.
Some panels were opaque, others were transparent.
Each panel was roughly the dimensions of a small house.
Before the hemispheres was a huge arch, with strips of tattered gold leaf hanging from its frame. A sign hung from the arch, emblazoned with six-foot-high Gnommish letters.
‘The Eleven Wonders of the Human World,“ declared Opal theatrically. ”Ten thousand years of civilization, and you only manage to produce eleven so-called wonders.“
Artemis tested his cuffs. They were tightly fastened. “You know of course that there are only seven wonders on the official list.”
‘I know that,“ said Opal testily. ”But humans are so narrow-minded. Fairy scholars studied video footage and decided to include the Abu Simbel Temple in Egypt, the Moai Statues in Rapa Nui, the Borobudur Temple in Indonesia, and the Throne Hall of Persepolis in Iran.“
‘If humans are so narrow-minded,“ commented Holly. ”I’m surprised that you want to be one of them.“
Opal passed through the arch. “Well, I would prefer to be a pixie, no offense Artemis, but the Fairy People are shortly to be wiped out. I shall be seeing to that personally as soon as I have dropped you off in your new Home. In ten minutes I’ll be on my way to the island, watching you two get torn apart on the shuttle monitors.”Grassland Fence
They proceeded through the theme park, past the first hemisphere, which contained a two-thirds scale model of the Great Pyramid of Giza. Several of the hexagonal panels had been ripped out and Artemis could see the remains of the model through the gaps. It was an impressive sight, made even more so by the scores of shaggy creatures scrambling across the pyramid’s slopes.
‘Trolls,“ explained Opal. ”They have taken over the exhibits. But don’t worry, they are extremely territorial and won’t attack unless you approach the pyramid.“
Artemis was beyond amazement at this point, but even so, the sight of these magnificent carnivores preying on one another was enough to speed his heart up a few beats. He paused to study the nearest specimen. It was a terrifying creature: at least eight feet tall, with grimy dreadlocks swinging about its massive head. The troll’s fur-matted arms swung below its knees, and two curved serrated tusks jutted from its lower jaw. The beast watched them pass, night eyes glowing red in their sockets.
The group arrived at the second exhibit. The Temple of Artemis at Ephesus. The hologram by the entrance displayed a revolving image of the Turkish building.
Opal read the history panel. “Interesting,” she said. “Now, why do you suppose someone would name a male child after a female goddess?”
‘It’s my father’s name,“ said Artemis wearily, having explained this a hundred times. ”It can be used for girls or boys, and means the hunter. Rather apt, don’t you think? It may interest you to know that your chosen human name, Belinda, means beautiful snake. Also rather fitting. Half of it, at any rate.“
Opal pointed a tiny finger at Artemis’s nose. “You are a very annoying creature, Fowl. I do hope all humans are not like you.“
She nodded at Scant.
‘Spray them,“ she ordered.
Scant took a small atomizer from his pocket and doused Holly and Artemis liberally with the contents.
The liquid was yellow and foul smelling.
‘Troll pheromones,“ said Scant, almost apologetically. ”These trolls will take one whiff of you and go absolutely crazy. To them you smell like females in heat. When they find out you’re not, they’ll tear you into a thousand little bits, then chew on the pieces. We’ve had all of the broken panels repaired, so there’s no escape. You can jump in the river if you like; the scent should wash off in about a thousand years. And, Captain Short, I have removed the wings from your suit and shorted out the cam-foil. I did leave the heating coils. After all, one deserves a sporting chance.“
A lot of use heating coils will be against trolls, thought Holly glumly.
Merv was checking the entrance through one of the transparent panels. “Okay. We’re clear.”
The pixie opened the main entrance by remote.
Distant howls resonated from inside the exhibit.
Artemis could see several trolls brawling on the steps of the replica temple. He and Holly would be torn apart.
The Brill brothers propelled them into the hemisphere.Grassland Fence
‘Best of luck,“ said Opal, as the door slid shut. ”Remember, you’re not alone. We’ll be watching you on the cameras.“
The door clanged shut ominously. Seconds later the electronic locking panel began to fizzle, as one of the Brill brothers melted it from the outside. Artemis and Holly were locked in with a bunch of amorous trolls and smelled irresistible to them.
The Temple of Artemis exhibit was a scale model that had been constructed with painstaking accuracy, complete with animatronic humans going about their daily Business as they would have been in B.c. Most of the human models had been stripped to the wires by the trolls, but some moved jerkily along their tracks, bringing their gifts to the goddess. Any robot whose path brought them too close to a pack of trolls was pounced on and torn to shreds. It was a grim preview of Artemis and Holly’s own fate.
There was only one food supply. The trolls themselves. Cubs and stragglers were picked off by the bulls and butchered with teeth, claws, and tusks.
The pack leader took the lion’s share, then tossed the carcass to the baying pack. If the trolls were confined here much longer, they would wipe themselves out.
Holly shouldered Artemis roughly to the ground. “Quickly,” she said. “Roll in the mud. Cover yourself, smother the scent.“
Artemis did as he was told, scooping mud over himself with his manacled hands. Any spots he missed were quickly slathered by Holly. He did the same for her. In moments the pair were almost unrecognizable.
Artemis was feeling something he could not remember having felt before: absolute fear. His hands shook, rattling the chains. There was no room in his brain for analytical thought. I can’t, he thought. I can’t do anything.
Holly took charge, dragging him to his feet and propelling him to a cluster of fake merchants’ tents beside a fast-flowing river. They crouched behind the ragged canvas, peering at the trolls through long claw rents in the material. Two animatronic merchants sat on mats before the tents, their baskets brimming with gold and ivory statuettes of the goddess Artemis. Neither model had a head. One of the heads lay in the dust several feet away, its artificial brain poking out through a bite hole.
‘We need to get the cuffs off,“ said Holly urgently.
‘What?“ mumbled Artemis.
Holly shook her manacles in his face. “We need to get these off now! The mud will protect us for a minute, then the trolls will be on our trail. We have to get in the water, and with cuffs on we’ll drown in the current.”
Artemis’s eyes had lost their focus. “The current?”Grassland Fence
‘Snap out of it, Artemis,“ Holly hissed into his face. ”Remember your gold? You can’t collect it if you’re dead. The great Artemis Fowl, collapsing at the first sign of trouble.
We’ve been in worse scrapes than this before.“ Not exactly true, but the Mud Boy couldn’t remember, could he?
Artemis composed himself. There was no time for a calming meditation; he would simply have to repress the emotions he was experiencing. Very unhealthy, psychologically speaking, but better than being reduced to chunks of meat between a troll’s teeth.
He studied the cuffs. Some form of ultralight plastic polymer. There was a digit pad in the center, positioned so the wearer could not reach the digits.
‘How many numbers?“ he said.
‘What?“
‘In the code for the cuffs. You are a police officer. Surely you know how many numbers in the code for handcuffs.“
‘Three,“ replied Holly. ”But there are so many possibilities.“
‘Possibilities but not probabilities,“ said Artemis, irritating even when his life was in danger. ”Statistically, thirty-eight percent of humans don’t bother changing the factory code on digital locks. We can only hope that fairies are equally negligent.“
Holly frowned. “Opal is anything but negligent.”
‘Perhaps. But her two little henchfairies might not be as attentive to detail.“
Artemis held out his cuffs to Holly. “Try three zeroes.”
Holly did so, using a thumb. The red light stayed red.
‘Nines. Three nines.“
Again the light stayed red.
Holly quickly tried all ten digits three times. None had any effect.
Artemis sighed. “Very well. Triple digits was a bit too obvious, I suppose.
Are there any other three-digit numbers that are burned into fairy consciousness? Something all fairies would know, and wouldn’t be likely to forget?“
Holly racked her brain. “Nine five one. The Haven area code.“
‘Try it.“
She did. No good.
‘Nine five eight. The Atlantis code.“
Again no good.
‘Those numbers are too regional,“ snapped Artemis. ”What is the one number that every male, female, and infant knows?“
Holly’s eyes widened. “Of course. Of course. Nine zero nine. The police emergency number. It’s on the corner of every billboard under the world.”
Artemis noticed something. The howling had stopped.
The trolls had ceased fighting and were sniffing the air.
The pheromones were in the breeze, drawing the beasts like puppets on strings. In eerie unison, their heads turned toward Holly and Artemis’s hiding place.
Artemis shook his manacles. “Try it quickly.”
Holly did. The light winked green, and the cuffs popped open.
‘Good. Excellent. Now let me do yours.“
Artemis’s fingers paused over the keyboard.
‘I don’t read the fairy language or numerals.“
‘You do. In fact, you are the only human who does,“ said Holly. ”You just don’t remember.
The pad is standard layout. Zero to nine. Left to right.“
‘Nine zero nine,“ muttered Artemis, pressing the appropriate keys. Holly’s cuffs popped on the first try, which was fortunate because there would be no time for a second.
The trolls were coming, loping from the temple’s steps with frightening speed and coordination. They used the weight of their shaggy arms to swing forward, while simultaneously straightening muscular legs. This launch method could take them up to twenty feet in a single bound. The animals landed on their knuckles, swinging their legs underneath for the next jump.
It was an almost petrifying sight. A score of crazed carnivores, jostling their way down a shallow sandy incline. The larger males took the easy way down, charging right through the ravine.
Adolescents and older males stuck to the slopes, wary of casual bites and scything tusks. The trolls crashed through mannequins and scenery, heading straight for the tent. Dreadlocks swung with every step, and eyes glowed red in the half light. They held their heads back so their highest point was their nose.Grassland Fence
Noses that were leading them directly to Holly and Artemis. And what was worse, Holly and Artemis could smell the trolls, too.
Holly stuck both pairs of cuffs into her belt. They had charge packs and could be adapted for heat or even weapons, if Holly lived long enough to use them.
‘Okay, Mud Boy. Into the water.“
Artemis did not argue or question; there was no time for that. He could only assume that, like many animals, trolls were not water lovers. He ran toward the river, feeling the ground below his feet vibrate with a hundred feet and fists. The howling had started again too, but it had a more reckless tone, mindless and brutal, as if whatever self-control the trolls had was now gone.
Artemis hustled to catch up to Holly. She was ahead of him, lithe and limber, bending low to scoop up one of the fake plastic logs from a campfire. Artemis did the same, tucking it under his arm. They could be in the water for a long time.
Holly dived in, gracefully arcing through the air before entering the water with barely a splash. Artemis stumbled after her. All this running for one’s life was not what he was built for. His brain was big, but his limbs were slight, which was exactly the opposite of what you needed when trolls were at your heels.
The water was lukewarm, yet the mouthful Artemis inadvertently swallowed tasted remarkably sweet.
No pollutants, he supposed, with that small portion of his brain that was still thinking rationally. Something tagged his ankle, slicing through sock and flesh. Then he kicked into the river, and he was clear. A trail of hot blood lingered for a moment, before being whipped away by the current.
Holly was treading water in the center of the river.
Her auburn hair stood up in slick spikes, and her suit crackled to match the background where the mud had been washed off.
‘Are you hurt?“ she asked.
Artemis shook his head. No breath for words.
Holly noticed his ankle, which was trailing behind him.
‘Blood, and I don’t have a drop of magic left to heal you. That blood is almost as bad as pheromones. We have to get out of here.“
On the bank the trolls were literally hopping mad. They head-butted the earth repeatedly, drumming their fists in complex rhythms.
‘Mating ritual,“ explained Holly. ”I think they like us.“
The current was strong out in the center of the river, and drew the pair quickly downstream. The trolls followed along, some hurling small missiles into the water. One clipped Holly’s plastic log, almost dislodging her.
She spat out a mouthful of water. “We need a plan, Artemis. That’s your department. I got us this far.”
‘Oh yes, well done, you,“ said Artemis, having apparently recovered his sense of sarcasm.
He raked wet strands of hair from his eyes and cast around, beyond the melee on the waterline. The temple was huge, throwing an elongated multipronged shadow across the desert area. The interior was wide open, with no obvious shelter from the trolls. The only deserted spot was the temple roof.
‘Can trolls climb?“ he spluttered.
Holly followed his gaze. “Yes, if they have to, like big monkeys. But only if they have to.”
Artemis frowned. “If only I could remember,” he said. “If only I knew what I know.”
Holly kicked over to him, grasping his collar.
They swirled in the white water, bubbles and froth squeezing between their logs.
‘If only is no good, Mud Boy. We need a plan before the filter.“
‘The filter?“
‘This is an artificial river. It’s filtered through a central tank.“
A bulb went on in Artemis’s brain. “A central tank. That’s our way out.”
‘We’ll be killed! I have no idea how long we’ll be underwater.“
Artemis took one last look around, measuring, calculating. “Given the present circumstances, there is no other option.”
Up ahead, the currents began to circle, pulling in any rubbish picked up from the banks. A small whirlpool formed in the middle of the river. The sight of it seemed to calm the trolls. They gave up on the butting and banging, and settled down to watch. Some moved along the bank; these would later prove to be the clever ones.Grassland Fence
‘We follow the current,“ shouted Artemis over the hiss. ”We follow it and hope.“
‘That’s it? That’s your brilliant plan?“
Holly’s suit crackled as the water wormed its way into the circuits.
‘It’s not so much a plan as a lifesaving strategy,“ retorted Artemis. He would have said more but the river interrupted him, snatching him away from his elfin companion into the whirlpool.
He felt about as significant as a twig in the face of such power. If he tried to resist the water, it would slap the air from his lungs like a bully slapping his victim. Artemis’s chest was compressed; even when his gasping mouth was above water, he could not force adequate amounts of air into his lungs. His brain was starved of oxygen. He couldn’t think straight. Everything was curved. The swirl of his body, the sweep of the water. White circles on blue ones on green ones. His feet dancing little Mobius strip patterns below his body.
Riverdance. Ha-ha.
Holly was before him, pinioning the two logs between them. A makeshift raft. She shouted something, but it was lost. There was only water now.
Water and confusion.
She held up three fingers. Three seconds.
Then they were going under. Artemis breathed as deeply as his constricted chest would allow. Two fingers now.
Then one.
Artemis and Holly let go of their logs and the current sucked them under like spiders down a drain.
Artemis fought to hold on to his air, but the buffeting water squeezed it from between his lips.
Bubbles spiraled behind them, racing for the surface.
The water was not so deep or dark. But it was fast and would not allow many images to stand still long enough to be identified. Holly’s face flashed past Artemis, but all he could make out were big hazel eyes.
The whirlpool’s funnel grew narrower, forcing Holly and Artemis together. They were swept diagonally down in a flurry of bumping torsos and flapping limbs. They pressed their foreheads together, finding some comfort in each other’s eyes. But it was short lived. Their progress was brutally cut short by a metal grille covering the drainage pipe. They slammed into it, feeling the sharp wire leave indents on their skin.
Holly slapped at the grille, then wormed her fingers through the holes. The grille was shiny and new.
Fresh weld marks dotted its rim. This was new and everything else was old. Koboi!
Something nudged Holly’s arm. An aqua-pod.
It was anchored to the grille by a plastic tie.
Opal’s face filled the small screen sealed inside, and her grin filled most of her face. She was saying something again and again on a short loop. The words were inaudible over the din of sluice and bubble, but the meaning was clear: still beat you again.
Holly grabbed the aqua-pod, ripping it from its tether. The effort threw her from the slipstream into the relatively calm surrounding waters. Her strength was gone, and she had no option but to go where the river led her. Artemis dragged himself from the flat face of the grille, using the last of his oxygen to kick his legs, just twice.
He was free of the whirlpool, floating along after Holly toward a dark mound farther down the river.
Air, he thought with keen desperation, I need to breathe. Not soon. Now. If not now, never.
Artemis broke the surface mouth first. His throat was sucking down air before the water cleared. The first breath came back up, laced with fluid, but the second was clear, and the third. Artemis felt the strength flow back into his limbs like mercury in his veins.
Holly was safe. Lying on a dark island in the river. Her chest heaved like a bellows and the aqua-pod lay beneath her splayed fingers.
‘Uh-uh,“ said Opal Koboi on-screen.Grassland Fence
‘So-o-o predictable.“ She said it over and over, until Artemis struggled from the shallow water, climbed on the mound, and found the MUTE button.
‘I am really starting to dislike her,“ he panted.
‘She may come to regret little touches like the underwater television, because it’s things like this that give me the motivation to get out of here.“
Holly sat up, looking around. They were sitting on a mound of rubbish. Artemis guessed that since Opal had welded the grille across the filter pipe, the current had swept everything that the trolls discarded to this shallow spot. A small island of junk in the river bend. There were disembodied robot heads on the heap, along with battered statues and troll remains. Troll skulls with the thick wedge of forehead bone and rotting pelts.
At least those particular trolls could not eat them.
The dangerous trolls that had followed them were working themselves up into a lather again along the banks on both sides. But there was at least twenty feet of six-inch-deep water separating them from the land. They were safe, for the moment.
Artemis felt memories attempting to break through to the surface. He was on the verge of remembering everything, he was certain of it. He sat completely still, willing it to happen. Unconnected images flashed behind his eyes: a mountain of gold, green scaly creatures snorting fireballs, Butler packed in ice. But the images slid from his consciousness like drops of water off a windshield.
Holly sat up. “Anything?”
‘Maybe,“ said Artemis. ”Something. I’m not sure. Everything is happening so fast. I need time to meditate.“
‘We’re out of time,“ said Holly, climbing to the top of the junk pile. Skulls cracked beneath her feet. ”Look.“
Artemis turned toward the left bank.
One of the trolls had picked up a large rock and raised it over his head. Artemis tried to make himself small. If that rock hit, they would both be gravely injured, at the very least.
The troll grunted like a tennis pro serving, spinning the rock into the river. It barely missed the pile, landing with a huge splash in the shallow waters.
‘A poor shot,“ said Holly.
Artemis frowned. “I doubt it.”
A second troll grabbed a missile, and a third. Soon all the brutes were hurling rocks, robot parts, sticks, or whatever they could get their hands on toward the rubbish heap. Not one hit the shivering pair huddled on the pile. “They keep missing,” said Holly. “Every one of them.” Artemis’s bones ached from cold, fear, and sustained tension.
‘They’re not trying to hit us,“ he said. ”They’re building a bridge.“

Tara, Ireland ; Dawn
The fairy shuttleport in Tara was the biggest in Europe. More than eight thousand tourists a year passed through its X-ray arches. Thirty thousand cubic feet of terminal concealed beneath an overgrown hillock in the middle of the McGraney farm. It was a marvel of subterranean architecture.
Mulch Diggums, fugitive kleptomaniac dwarf, was pretty marvelous himself, in the subterranean area. Butler drove the Fowl Bentley north from the manor, and on Mulch’s instructions, slowed the luxury car down five hundred yards from the shuttleport’s camouflaged entrance. This allowed Mulch to dive from the rear door straight into the earth. He quickly submerged below a layer of rich Irish soil. The best in the world.
Mulch knew the shuttleport layout well.
He had once broken his cousin Nord out of police custody here, when the LEP had arrested him on industrial pollution charges. A vein of clay ran right up to the shuttleport wall, and if you knew where to look, there was a sheet of metal casing that had been worn thin by years of Irish damp. But on this particular occasion, Mulch was not interested in evading the LEP; quite the opposite.
Mulch surfaced inside the holographic bush that hid the shuttleport’s service entrance. He climbed from his tunnel, shook the clay from his behind, got all the tunnel wind out of his system a bit more noisily than was absolutely necessary, and waited.
Five seconds later, the entrance hatch slid across, and four grabbing hands reached out, yanking Mulch into the shuttleport’s interior. Mulch did not resist, allowing himself to be bundled along a dark corridor and into an interview room. He was plonked onto an uncomfortable chair, handcuffed, and left on his own to stew.
Mulch did not have time to stew. Every second he spent sitting here picking the insects from his beard hair was another second that Artemis and Holly had to spend running from trolls.
The dwarf rose from the chair and slapped his palms against the two-way mirror inset in the interview room wall.
‘ChixVerbil“ he shouted. “I know you’re watching me. We need to talk. It’s about Holly Short.”
Mulch kept right on banging on the glass, until the cell door swung open and ChixVerbil entered the room. Chix was the LEP’S fairy on the surface. Chix had been the first LEP casualty in the B’wa Kell goblin revolution a year previously, and had it not been for Holly Short, he would have been its first fatality. As it turned out, he got a medal from the Committee, a series of high-profile interviews on network television, and a cushy surface job in El.
Chix entered suspiciously, his sprite wings folded behind him. The strap was off his Neutrino holster.
‘Mulch Diggums, isn’t it? Are you surrendering?“
Mulch snorted. “What do you think? I go to all the trouble of breaking out, just to surrender to a sprite.
I think not, lamebrain.“
Chix bristled, his wings fanning out behind him.Grassland Fence
‘Hey, listen, dwarf. You’re in no position to be making cracks. You’re in my custody, in case you hadn’t noticed, there are six security fairies surrounding this room.“
‘Security fairies. Don’t make me laugh. They couldn’t secure an apple in an orchard. I escaped from a sub- shuttle under a couple of miles of water. I can see at least six ways out of here without breaking a sweat.“
Chix hovered nervously. “I’d like to see you try. I’d have two charges in your behind before you could unhinge that jaw of yours.”
Mulch winced. Dwarfs don’t like behind jokes.
‘Okay, easy there, Mister Gung Ho.
Let’s talk about your wing. How’s it healing up?“
‘How do you know about that?“
‘It was big news. You were all over the TV for a while, even on pirate satellite. I was watching your ugly face in Chicago not so long ago.“
Chix preened. “ Chicago ?”
‘That’s right. You were saying, if I remember properly, how Holly Short saved your life, and how sprites never forget a debt, and whenever she needed you, you were there, whatever it took.“
Chix coughed nervously. “A lot of that was scripted. And anyway, that was before…”
‘Before one of the most decorated officers in the LEP decided to suddenly go crazy and shoot her own commander?“
‘Yes. Before that.“
Mulch looked Verbil straight in his green face. “You don’t believe that, do you?”
Chix hovered even higher for a long moment, his wings whipping the air into currents. Then he settled back down to earth and sat in the room’s second chair. “No. I don’t believe it. Not for a second. Julius Root was like a father to Holly.
To all of us.“ He covered his face with his hands, afraid to hear the answer to his next question. ”So, Diggums. Why are you here?“
Mulch leaned in close. “Is this being recorded?”
‘Of course. Standard operating procedure.“
‘Can you switch off the mike?“
‘I suppose. Why should I?“
‘Because I’m going to tell you something important for the People’s survival. But I’ll only tell you if the mikes are off.“
Chix’s wings began to flap once more. “This better be really good. I better really like this, dwarf.”
Mulch shrugged. “Oh, you’re not going to like it. But it is really good.”
Chix’s green fingers tapped a code into a keyboard on the table. “Okay, Diggums. We can talk freely.”
Mulch leaned forward across the desk. “The thing is, Opal Koboi is back.”
Chix did not respond verbally, but the color drained from his face. Instead of its usual robust emerald, the sprite’s complexion was now pasty lime green.
‘Opal has escaped, somehow, and she has set this big revenge thing in motion. First General Scalene, then Commander Root, and now Holly and Artemis Fowl.“
‘O… Opal?“ stammered Chix, his wounded wing suddenly throbbing.
‘She’s taking out anyone who had a hand in her imprisonment. Which, if memory serves, includes you.“
‘I didn’t do anything,“ squeaked Verbil, as though protesting his innocence to Mulch could help him.
Mulch sat back. “Hey, there’s no point telling me. I’m not out to get you. If I remember correctly, you were on all the chat shows spouting how you personally were the first member of the LEP to come into contact with the goblin smugglers.”
‘Maybe she didn’t see that,“ said Chix hopefully. ”She was in a coma.“
‘I’m sure someone taped it for her.“
Verbil thought about it, absently grooming his wings.
‘So what do you want from me?“
‘I need you to get a message to Foaly.
Tell him what I said about Opal.“ Mulch covered his mouth with a hand to fox any lip-readers who might review the tape. ”And I want the LEP shuttle. I know where it’s parked. I just need the starter chip and the ignition code.“
‘What? Ridiculous. I’d go to jail.“
Mulch shook his head. “No, no. Without sound, all Police Plaza are going to see is another ingenious Mulch Diggums’s escape. I knock you out, steal your chip, and tunnel out through the pipe behind that water dispenser.”
Chix frowned. “Go back to the ”knock me out“ part again.”
Mulch slammed one palm down on the table.
‘Listen, Verbil, Holly is in mortal danger right now. She may already be dead.“
‘That’s what I heard,“ interjected Chix.
‘Well, she will definitely be dead if I don’t get down there right now.“
‘Why don’t I just call this in?“
Mulch sighed dramatically. “Because, moron, by the time Police Plaza Retrieval team gets here, it will be too late. You know the rules: no LEP officer can act on the information of a convicted felon unless the information has been verified by another source.”
‘No one pays any attention to that rule, and calling me moron isn’t helping.“
Mulch rose to his feet. “You are a sprite, for heaven’s sake. You are supposed to have this ancient code of chivalry. A female saved your life and now hers is in danger. You are honor bound, as a sprite, to do whatever it takes.”
Chix held Mulch’s gaze. “Is all of this true? Tell me, Mulch, because this will have repercussions. This isn’t some little jewelry heist.”
‘It’s true,“ said Mulch. ”You have my word.“
Chix almost laughed. “Oh, whoopee. Mulch Diggums’s word. I can take that to the bank.” He took several deep breaths and closed his eyes.
‘The chip is in my pocket. The code is written on the tab. Try not to break anything.“
‘Don’t worry, I’m an excellent driver.“
Chix winced in anticipation. “I don’t mean the shuttle, stupid. I mean my face. The ladies like me the way I am.”
Mulch drew back one gnarled fist. “Well, I’d hate to disappoint the ladies,” he said, and knocked Chix Verbil from his chair.
Mulch expertly rifled through Chix’s pockets.
The sprite was not actually unconscious, but he was pretending.Grassland Fence
A wise move. In seconds, Mulch had removed the starter chip and stuffed it into his beard.
A clump of beard hair wrapped itself tightly around the chip, forming a waterproof cocoon. He also relieved Verbil of his Neutrino, though that was not part of the deal. Mulch crossed the room in two strides and jammed a chair under the door handle. That should buy me a couple of seconds, he thought. He wrapped an arm around the water dispenser while simultaneously unbuttoning his bum-flap.
Speed was vital now because whoever had been watching the interview through the two-way mirror was already hammering on the door. Mulch saw a black burn dot appear on the door; they were burning their way in.
He ripped the dispenser from the wall, allowing several gallons of cooled water to flood the interview room.
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,“ moaned Chix from the floor. ”It takes forever to dry these wings.“
‘Shut up. You’re supposed to be unconscious.“
As soon as the water had drained from the supply pipe, Mulch dived into the pipe. He followed it to the first joint, then kicked it loose. Clumps of clay fell through, blocking the pipe. Mulch unhinged his jaw. He was back in the earth. No one could catch him now.
The shuttlebay was on the lower level, closest to the chute itself. Mulch angled himself downward, guided by his infallible dwarf internal compass.
He had been in this terminal before, and the layout was burned into his memory, as was the layout of every building that he’d ever been in. Sixty seconds of chewing earth, stripping it of minerals, and ejecting waste at the other end brought Mulch face-to-face with an air duct. This particular duct led straight to the shuttlebay; the dwarf could even feel the vibration of the engines through his beard hair.
Generally he would burn through the duct’s metal paneling with a few drops of dwarf rock polish, but prison guards tended to confiscate items like that, so instead Mulch blasted a panel with a concentrated burst from the stolen handgun. The panel melted like a sheet of ice in front of a bar heater.
He gave the molten metal a minute to solidify and cool, then slithered into the duct itself. Two left turns later, his face was pressed to the grille overlooking the shuttlebay itself. Red alarm lights were revolving over every door, and a harsh Klaxon made sure that everyone knew that there was some sort of emergency. The shuttlebay workers were gathered in front of the intranet screen, waiting for news.
Mulch dropped to the ground with more grace than his frame suggested was possible and creeped across to the LEP shuttle. The shuttle was suspended nose-up over a vertical supply tunnel.
Mulch crept aboard, opening the passenger door with ChixVerbil’s chip. The controls were hugely complicated, but Mulch had a theory about vehicle controls:
Ignore everything except the wheel and the pedals, and you’ll be fine.
So far in his career, he had stolen more than fifty types of transportation, and his theory hadn’t let him down yet.
The dwarf thrust the starter chip into its socket, ignoring the computer’s advice that he run a systems’ check, and hit the release button.
Eight tons of LEP shuttle dropped like a stone into the chute, spinning like an ice skater. The earth’s gravity grabbed hold of it, reeling it in toward the earth’s core.
Mulch’s foot jabbed the thruster pedal just enough to halt the drop.
The radio on the dash started talking to him. “You in the shuttle. You’d better come back here right now. I’m not kidding! In twenty seconds I personally am going to press the self-destruct button.“
Mulch spat a wad of dwarf spittle onto the speaker, muffling the irate voice. He gargled up another wad in his throat and deposited it on a circuit box below the radio. The circuits sparked and fizzled. So much for the self-destruct.
The controls were a bit heavier than Mulch was used to. Nevertheless, he managed to tame the machine after a few scrapes along the chute wall. If the LEP ever recovered the craft, it would need a fresh coat of paint, and perhaps a new starboard fender.Grassland Fence
A bolt of sizzling laser energy flashed past the porthole.
That was his warning shot. One across the bows before they let the computer do the aiming. Time to be gone. Mulch kicked off his boots, wrapped his double-jointed toes around the pedals, and sped down the chute toward the rendezvous point.

Butler parked the Bentley fifteen miles northeast of Tara, near a cluster of rocks shaped like a clenched fist. The index finger rock was hollow, just as Mulch had told him it would be. However, the dwarf had neglected to mention that the opening would be cluttered with potato crisp bags and chewing-gum patties left over from a thousand teenagers’ picnics. Butler picked his way through the rubbish to discover two boys huddled at the rear, smoking secret cigarettes. A Labrador pup was asleep at their feet. Obviously these two had volunteered to walk the dog so they could sneak some cigarettes. Butler did not like smoking.
The boys looked up at the enormous figure looming above them, their jaded teenage expressions freezing on their faces.
Butler pointed at the cigarettes. “Those things will seriously damage your health,” he growled. “And if they don’t, I might.”
The teenagers stubbed out their cigarettes and scurried from the cave, which was exactly what Butler wanted them to do. He pushed aside a wizened scrub cluster at the rear of the cave to discover a mud wall.
‘Punch right through the mud,“ Mulch had told him. ‘Generally I eat through and patch it up afterward, but you might not want to do that.“
Butler jabbed four rigid fingers at the center of the mud wall, where cracks were beginning to spread, and sure enough the wall was only inches thick and crumbled easily under the pressure. The bodyguard pulled away chunks until there was sufficient space to squeeze through to the tunnel beyond.
To say there was sufficient space is perhaps a slight exaggeration; barely enough is probably more accurate. Butler ‘s bulky frame was compressed on all sides by uneven walls of black clay. Occasionally a jagged rock poked through, tearing a gash in his designer suit. That was two suits ruined in as many days. One in Munich, and now the second belowground in Ireland.
Still, suits were the least of his worries. If Mulch was right, then Artemis was running around the Lower Elements right now with a group of bloodthirsty trolls on his trail. Butler had fought a troll once, and the battle had very nearly killed him. He couldn’t even imagine fighting an entire group.
Butler dug his fingers into the earth, pulling himself forward through the tunnel. This particular tunnel, Mulch had informed him, was one of many illicit back doors into the Lower Elements chute system chewed out by fugitive dwarfs over the centuries. Mulch himself had excavated this one almost three hundred years ago, when he had needed to sneak back to Haven for his cousin’s birthday bash. Butler tried not to think about the dwarf’s recycling process as he went.
After several feet the tunnel widened into a bulb- shaped chamber. The walls glowed a gentle green. Mulch had explained that too. The walls were coated with dwarf spittle, which hardened on prolonged contact with air, and also glowed. Amazing. Drinking pores, living hairs, and now luminous saliva.
What next? Explosive phlegm? He wouldn’t be a bit surprised. Who knew what secrets the dwarfs were hiding up their sleeves?
Or in other places?
Butler kicked aside a pile of rabbit bones, the remains of previous dwarf snacks, and sat down to wait.
He checked the luminous face of his Omega wristwatch. He had dropped Mulch at Tara almost thirty minutes ago; the little man should be here by now. The bodyguard would have paced the chamber, but there was barely enough space for him to stand up, never mind pace. The bodyguard crossed his legs, settling down for a power nap. He hadn’t slept since the missile attack in Germany, and he wasn’t as young as he used to be. His heart rate and breathing slowed until eventually his chest barely moved at all.Grassland Fence
Eight minutes later, the small chamber began to shake violently. Chunks of brittle spittle cracked from the wall, shattering on the floor. The ground beneath his feet glowed red, and a stream of insects and worms flowed away from the hot spot. Butler stood to one side, calmly brushing himself down. Moments later a cylindrical section of earth dropped cleanly out of the floor, leaving a steaming hole.
Mulch’s voice drifted through the hole, borne on the waves of the stolen shuttle’s amplification system.
‘Let’s go, Mud Man. Move yourself. We have people to save, and the LEP are on my tail.“
On Mulch Diggums’s tail, thought Butler, shuddering. Not a nice place to be.
Nevertheless, the bodyguard lowered himself into the hole and through the open roof hatch of the hovering LEP shuttle. Police shuttles were cramped, even for fairies, but Butler could not even sit up straight in a chair, even if there had been a chair wide enough for him. He had to content himself with kneeling behind the command seat.
‘All set?“ he inquired.
Mulch picked a beetle from Butler ‘s shoulder.
He shoved it into his beard, where the unfortunate insect was immediately cocooned by hair.
‘For later,“ he explained. ”Unless you want it?“
Butler smiled, but it was an effort. “Thanks.
I already ate.“
‘Oh, really? Well whatever you ate, hold on to it, because we are in a hurry, so I may have to break a few speed limits.“
The dwarf cracked every joint in his fingers and toes, then sent the craft into a steep spiraling dive. Butler slid to the rear of the craft, and had to hook three seat belts together to prevent further jostling.
‘Is this really necessary?“ he grunted through rippling cheeks.
‘Look behind you,“ replied Mulch.
Butler struggled to his knees, directing his gaze through the rear window. They were being pursued by a trio of what looked like fireflies, but what were actually smaller shuttles. The crafts matched their every spiral and jink exactly. One fired a small sparking torpedo that sent a shock wave sparking through the hull. Butler felt the pores in his shaven head tingle.
‘LEP uni-pods,“ explained Mulch. ”They just took out our communications mast, in case we have accomplices in the chutes somewhere. Those pods have got a lock on our navigation’s system. Their own computers will follow us forever, unless.“
‘Unless what?“
‘Unless we can outrun them. Get out of their range.“
Butler tightened the belts across his torso. “And can we?”
Mulch flexed his fingers and toes. “Let’s find out,” he said, flicking the throttle wide.

The Eleven Wonders, Temple of Artemis Exhibit, The Lower Elements
Holly and Artemis huddled together on the small island of rotting carcasses, waiting for the trolls to finish their bridge. The creatures were frantic now, hurling rock after rock into the shallow water.
Some even braved placing a toe in the currents, but quickly drew them out again with horrified howls.
Holly wiped water from her eyes. “Okay,” she said. “I have a plan. I stay here and fight them. You go back in the river.”
Artemis shook his head curtly. “I appreciate it. But no. It would be suicide for both of us. The trolls would devour you in a second, then simply wait for the current to sweep me right back here. There must be another way.”
Holly threw a troll skull at the nearest creature. The brute caught it deftly in his talons, crushing it to shards.- “I’m listening, Artemis.”
Artemis rubbed a knuckle against his forehead, willing the memory block to dissolve.
‘If I could remember. Then maybe…“
‘Don’t you remember anything?“
‘Images. Something. Nothing coherent. Just nightmare pictures. This could all be a hallucination. That is the most likely explanation.
Perhaps I should just relax and wait to wake up.“
‘Think of it as a challenge. If this were a role-playing game, how would the character escape?“
‘If this were a war game, I would need to know the other side’s weaknesses. Water is one…“
‘And light,“ blurted Holly. ”Trolls hate light. It burns their retinas.“
The creatures were venturing onto their makeshift bridge now, testing each step carefully. The stink of their unwashed fur and fetid breath drifted across to the little island.
‘Light,“ repeated Artemis. ”That’s why they like it here. Hardly any light.“
‘Yes. The Glo-Strips are on emergency power, and the fake sun is on minimum.“
Artemis glanced upward. Holographic clouds scudded across an imitation sky, and right in the center, poised dramatically above the temple’s roof, was a crystal sun, with barely a flicker of power in its belly.Grassland Fence
An idea blossomed in his mind. “There is scaffolding on the near corner of the temple. If we could climb up and get to the sun, could you use the power cells from our cuffs to light up the sun?”
Holly frowned. “Yes, I suppose. But how do we get past the trolls?”
Artemis picked up the waterproof pod that had been playing Opal’s video message.
‘We distract them with a little television.“
Holly fiddled with the pod’s on-screen controls until she found brightness. She flicked the setting to maximum. Opal’s image was whited out by a block of glaring light.
‘Hurry,“ advised Artemis, tugging Holly’s sleeve. The first troll was halfway across the bridge, followed by the rest of the precariously balanced bunch. The world’s shaggiest conga line.
Holly wrapped her arms around the tele-pod.
‘This is probably not going to work,“ she said.
Artemis moved behind her. “I know, but there is no other option.”
‘Okay. But if we don’t make it, I’m sorry you don’t remember. It’s good to be with a friend at a time like this.“
Artemis squeezed her shoulder. “If we make it through this, we will be friends. Bonded by trauma.”
Their little island was shaking now. Skulls were dislodged from their perches, rolling into the water. The trolls were almost upon them, picking their way across the precarious walkway, squealing at every drop of water that landed on their fur. Any trolls still on the shoreline were hammering the earth with their knuckles, long ropes of drool swinging from their jaws.
Holly waited until the last moment for maximum effect. The tele-pod’s screen was pressed into the rubbish heap, so the approaching animals would not have a clue as to what was coming.
‘Holly?“ said Artemis urgently.
‘Wait,“ whispered Holly. ”Just a few seconds more.“ The first troll in the line reached their island. This was obviously the pack leader. He reared up to a height of almost ten feet, shaking his shaggy head and howling at the artificial sky. Then he appeared to notice that Artemis and Holly were not in fact female trolls, and a savage rage took hold of his tiny brain. Dribbles of venom dropped from his tusks, and he inverted his talons for an upward slash. Trolls’ preferred kill strike was under the ribs. This popped the heart quickly and did not give the meat time to toughen.
More trolls crowded onto the tiny island, eager for a share in the kill or a shot at a new mate.
Holly chose that moment to act. She swung the tele-pod upward, pointing the buzzing screen directly at the nearest troll. The creature reared back, clawing at the hated light as though it were a solid enemy. The light blasted the troll’s retinas, sending him staggering backward into his companions. A group of the animals tumbled into the river. Panic spread back along the line like a virus. The creatures reacted to water as though it were acid dappling their fur and backpedaled furiously toward the shore. This was no orderly retreat. Anything in the way got scythed or bitten. Gouts of venom and blood flew through the air, and the water bubbled as though it were boiling. The troll’s howls of bloodlust changed to keening screams of pain and terror.
This can’t be real, thought a stunned Artemis Fowl. I must be hallucinating. Perhaps I am in a coma, following the fall from the hotel window. And because his brain provided this possible explanation, his memories stayed under lock and key.
‘Grab my belt,“ ordered Holly, advancing across the makeshift bridge. Artemis obeyed instantly. This was not the time to argue about leadership.
In any case, if there were the slightest possibility that this was actually happening, then Captain Short was better qualified to handle these creatures.
Holly wielded the tele-pod like a portable laser cannon, advancing step-by-step across the makeshift bridge. Artemis tried to concentrate on keeping his balance on the treacherous ground. They stepped from rock to rock, wobbling like novice tightrope walkers. Holly swung the tele-pod in smooth arcs, blasting trolls from every angle.
Too many, thought Artemis. There are too many.
We can never make it.
But there was no future in giving up. So they kept going, taking two steps forward and one step back.
A crafty bull ducked low, avoiding Holly’s first sweep. He reached out one talon, cracking the pod’s waterproof casing. Holly stumbled backward, knocking over Artemis. The pair keeled over into the river, landing with a solid thump in the shallow water.
Artemis felt the air shoot from his lungs, and took an instinctive breath. Unfortunately he took in water rather than air. Holly kept her elbows locked, so the ruptured casing stayed out of the river.
Some splash drops crept into the crack, and sparks began to play across the screen.
Holly struggled to her feet, simultaneously aiming the screen at the bull troll. Artemis came up behind her, coughing water from his lungs.
‘The screen’s damaged,“ panted Holly. ”I don’t know how much time we have.“
Artemis wiped strands of hair from his eyes.
‘Go,“ he spluttered. ”Go.“
They trudged through the water, stepping around thrashing trolls. Holly chose a clear spot on the bank to climb ashore. It was a relief to be on dry land again, but at bar least the water had been on their side, as it were; now they were truly in troll territory.
The remaining animals encircled them at a safe distance. Whenever one came too close, Holly swung the tele-pod in its direction, and the creature skipped back as though stung.
Artemis fought the cold and the fatigue and the shock in his system. His ankle was scalded where the troll had snagged him.
‘We need to go straight for the temple,“ he said through chattering teeth. ”Up the scaffolding.“
‘Okay. Hold on.“
Holly took several deep breaths, building up her strength. Her arms were sore from holding the tele-pod, but she would not let the fatigue show in her face, or the fear. She looked those trolls straight in their red eyes and let them know they were dealing with a formidable enemy.
‘Ready?“
‘Ready,“ replied Artemis, although he was no such thing.
Holly took one final breath, then charged. The trolls were not expecting this tactic. After all, what kind of creature would attack a troll? They broke ranks in the face of the arc of white light, and their disconcertion lasted just long enough for Artemis and Holly to charge through the hole in the line.
They hurried up the incline toward the temple.
Holly made no attempt to avoid the trolls, running straight at them. When they lashed out in temporary blindness, they only caused more confusion among themselves. A dozen vicious squabbles erupted in Holly and Artemis’s wake, as the animals accidentally sliced each other with razor-sharp talons. Some of the cannier trolls used the opportunity to settle old scores. The squabbles chain-reacted across the plain until the entire area was a mass of writhing animals and dust.
Artemis grunted and puffed his way up the ravine, his fingers wrapped around Holly’s belt.
Captain Short’s breathing had settled into a steady rhythm of quick bursts.
I am not physically fit, thought Artemis. And it may cost me dearly. I need to exercise more than my brain in the future. If I have a future.
The temple loomed above them, a scale model, but still over fifty feet high. Dozens of identical columns rose into the holographic clouds, supporting a triangular roof decorated with intricate plaster moldings. The columns’ lower regions were scarred by a thousand claw marks where younger trolls had scampered out of harm’s way. Artemis and Holly clambered up the twenty or so steps to the columns themselves.
Fortunately there were no trolls on the scaffolding. All of the animals were busy trying to kill each other, or avoid being killed, but it was only a matter of seconds before they remembered that there were intruders in their midst. Fresh meat. Not many of the trolls had tasted elf meat, but those who had were eager to try it again. Only one of the present gathering had tasted human meat, and the memory of its sweetness still haunted his dull brain at night.
It was this particular troll who hauled himself from the river, carrying twenty extra pound’s of moisture weight. He casually cuffed a cub who had come too close, and sniffed the air. There was a new scent here. A scent he could remember from his short time under the moon. The scent of man. The mere recognition of the smell brought saliva flowing from the glands in his throat. He set off at a pitched run toward the temple. Soon there was a rough group of flesh-hungry beasts hurtling toward the scaffolding.
‘We’re back on the menu,“ noted Holly when she reached the scaffolding.
Artemis unhooked his fingers from the LEP captain’s belt. He would have answered, but his lungs demanded oxygen. He whooped in gulps of air, resting his knuckles on his knees.
Holly took his elbow. “No time for that, Artemis. You have to climb.”
‘After you,“ Artemis managed to gasp. He knew his father would never allow a lady to remain in distress while he himself fled.
‘No time for discussion,“ said Holly, steering Artemis by the elbow. ”Climb for the sun. I’ll buy us a few seconds with the tele-pod. Go.“
Artemis looked into Holly’s eyes to say thank you. They were round and hazel and… familiar? Memories fought to be free of their bonds, pounding against cell walls.
‘Holly?“ he said.
Holly spun him around to the bars, and the moment was gone. “Up. You’re wasting time.”
Artemis marshaled his exhausted limbs, trying to coordinate his movements. Step, grab, pull.
It should be easy enough. He’d climbed ladders before.
One ladder at least. Surely.
The scaffold bars were coated with gripped rubber, especially for climbers, and were spaced precisely sixteen inches apart, the comfortable reach distance of the average fairy. Also, coincidentally, the comfortable reach of a fourteen-year-old human. Artemis started to climb, feeling the strain in his arms before he had risen six steps. It was too early to be tired. There was too far to go.Grassland Fence
‘Come on, Captain,“ he gasped over his shoulder. ”Climb.“
‘Not just yet,“ said Holly. She had her back to the scaffold and was trying to find some pattern in the approaching bunches of trolls.
There had been an in-service course on troll attacks in Police Plaza. But that had been in the event of a one-on- one situation. To Holly’s eternal embarrassment, the lecturer had used video footage of her own tangle with a troll in Italy over two years ago. “This,” the lecturer had said, freezing Holly’s image in the big screen, and rapping it with a telescopic pointer, ‘is a classic example of how not to do it.“
This was a completely different scenario. They had never received instruction on what to do when attacked by an entire pack of trolls in their own habitat.
No one, the instructors reasoned, would be that stupid.
There were two converging groups coming straight toward her. One from the river, led by a veritable monster with anesthetic venom dripping from both tusks.
Holly knew that if one drop of that venom got under her skin, she would fall into a happy stupor. And even if she escaped the troll’s claws, the slow poison would eventually paralyze her.
The second group approached from the western ridge, composed mainly of latecomers and cubs.
There were a few females in the center of the temple itself, but they were taking advantage of the distraction to pick meat from abandoned carcasses.
Holly flicked the tele-pod’s setting to low.
She would have to time this exactly right for maximum effect. This was the last chance she would get, because once she started to climb, then she could no longer aim.
The trolls sped up the temple steps, jostling for first place. The two groups were approaching at right angles, both headed directly toward Holly. The leaders launched themselves from a distance, determined to get the first bite of the intruder. Their lips peeled back to reveal rows of carnivorous teeth, and their eyes focused solely on the target. And that was when Holly acted. She flicked the brightness setting to high and scorched the retinas of the two beasts while they were still in the air. With piercing howls, they swatted the hated light and crashed to the ground in a melee of arms, claws, tusks, and teeth. Each troll assumed he was being attacked by a rival group, and in seconds the scaffold’s base was a chaos of primal violence.
Holly took full advantage of the confusion, skipping lithely up the first three rungs of the metal structure. She clipped the tele-pod onto her belt so that it pointed downward like a rear gun. Not much protection, but better than nothing.
In moments, she had caught up with Artemis. The human boy’s breath was ragged and his progress was slow. A slow stream of blood dripped from the wound on his ankle. Holly could easily have passed him, but instead she hooked an arm through the bars of the ladder and checked on the troll situation. Just as well. One relatively little guy was scaling the bars with the agility of a mountain gorilla. His immature tusks barely jutted beyond his lips, but those tusks were sharp and venom gathered in beads along the tips.
Holly turned the tele-screen on him, and he released his grip to shield his scorched eyes. An elf would have been smart enough to hang on with one hand and use the other forearm to shield the eyes, but trolls are not much farther up the IQ scale than stinkworms, and act almost completely on instinct.
The little troll tumbled back to earth, landing on the shaggy, writhing carpet below. He was instantly dragged into the brawl. Holly returned to the climb, feeling the tele-pod knock against her back. Artemis’s progress was painfully slow, and in less than a minute, she was tight at his shoulder.
‘Are you all right?“
Artemis nodded, tight lipped. But his eyes were wide, on the verge of panic. Holly had seen that look before, on the faces of battle-stressed LEP officers. She needed to get the Mud Boy to safety before he lost his reason.
‘Come on now, Artemis. Just a few more steps.
We’re going to make it.“
Artemis closed his eyes for five seconds, breathing deeply through his nose. When he opened them again, they shone with a new resolve.
‘Very well, Captain. I’m ready.“
Artemis reached above him for the next bar, hauling himself sixteen inches closer to salvation. Holly followed, urging him on like a drill sergeant.
It took a further minute to reach the roof itself. By this time the trolls had remembered what they were chasing, and had begun to scale the scaffolding.
Holly dragged Artemis onto the slanted roof and they scampered on all fours toward its highest point. The plaster was white and unmarked. In the low light it seemed as though they were walking across a field of snow.
Artemis paused. The sight had awoken a vague memory. “Snow,” he said uncertainly.
‘I remember something…“
Holly caught his shoulder, dragging him forward.
‘Yes, Artemis. The Arctic, remember? We’ll discuss it at great length later, when there are no trolls trying to eat us.“
Artemis snapped back to the present. “Very well. Good tactic.”
The temple roof sloped upward at a forty-degree angle, toward the crystal orb that was the fake sun. The pair crawled as quickly as Artemis’s exhausted limbs would allow. A ragged trail of blood marked their path across the white plaster. The scaffold shook and banged against the roof as the trolls climbed ever closer.
Holly straddled the roof’s apex and reached up to the crystal sun. The surface was smooth beneath her fingers.
‘D’Arvit!“ she swore. ”I can’t find the power port. There should be an external socket.“
Artemis crawled around the other side. He was not particularly afraid of heights, but even so, he tried not to look down. One did not have to suffer from vertigo to be worried by a fifty-foot drop and a pack of ravenous trolls. He stretched upward, probing the globe with the fingers of one hand. His index finger found a small indent.
‘I’ve got something,“ he announced.
Holly scooted around to his side, examining the hole.
‘Good,“ she said. ”An external power port.
Power cells have uniform connection points, so the cuffs’ cells should clip right on.“
She fumbled the cuffs from her pocket and popped the cell covers. The cells themselves were about the size of credit cards, and glowed bright blue along their length.
Holly stood up on the razor-edge rooftop, balancing nimbly on her toes. The trolls were swarming over the lip of the roof now. Advancing like the hounds of hell.
The white roof plaster was blanketed by the black, brown, and ginger of troll fur. Their howls and stink preceded them as they closed in on Holly and Artemis.
Holly waited until they were all over the lip, then slid the power cells into the globe’s socket.
The globe buzzed, vibrated to life, then flashed once. A blinding wall of light. For a moment the entire exhibit glowed brilliant white, then the globe faded again with a high-pitched whine.
The trolls rolled like balls on a tilted pool table. Some tumbled over the edge of the roof but most collected on the lip, where they lay whining and scratching their faces.
Artemis closed his eyes to accelerate the return of his night vision. “I had hoped the cell would power the sun for longer. It seems like a lot of effort for such a brief reprieve.”
Holly pulled out the dead cells and tossed them aside. “I suppose a globe like this needs a lot of juice.”
Artemis blinked, then sat comfortably on the roof, clasping his knees.
‘St. We have some time. It can take nocturnal creatures up to fifteen minutes to recover their orientation following exposure to bright light.“
Holly sat beside him. “Fascinating. You’re very calm all of a sudden.”
‘I have no choice,“ said Artemis simply.
‘I have analysed the situation and concluded that there is no way for us to escape. We are on top of a ridiculous model of the Temple of Artemis, surrounded by temporarily blinded trolls. As soon as they recover, they will lope up here and devour us.
We have perhaps a quarter of an hour to live, and I have no intention of spending it in hysterics for Opal Koboi’s amusement.“
Holly looked up, searching the hemisphere for cameras. At least a dozen telltale red lights winked from the darkness. Opal would be able to watch her revenge from every angle.
Artemis was right. Opal would be tickled pink if they fell to pieces for the cameras. She would probably replay the video to cheer herself up when being princess of the world got to be too stressful.
Holly drew back her arm and sent the spent power cells skidding across the roof. It seemed then that this was it. She felt more frustrated than scared. Julius’s final order had been to save Artemis, and she hadn’t managed to accomplish even that.
‘I’m sorry you don’t remember Julius,“ she said. ”You two argued a lot, but he admired you behind it all. It was Butler he really liked, though, those two were on the same wavelength. Two old soldiers.“
Below them, the trolls were gathering themselves. Blinking away the stars in their eyes.
Artemis slapped some of the dust from his trousers.
‘I do remember, Holly. I remember it all. Especially you. It’s a real comfort to have you here.“
Holly was surprised. Shocked, even. More by Artemis’s tone than what he had actually said, though that was surprising too. She had never heard Artemis sound so warm, so sincere. Usually, emotional displays were difficult for the boy, and he stumbled through them awkwardly. This wasn’t like him at all.
‘That’s very nice, Artemis,“ she said after a moment’s consideration. ”But you don’t have to pretend for me.“
Artemis was puzzled. “How did you know? I thought I portrayed the emotions perfectly.”
Holly looked down at the massing trolls.
They were advancing warily up the slope, heads down in case of a second flash.
‘Nobody’s that perfect. That’s how I knew.“
The trolls were hurrying now, swinging their hairy forearms forward to increase momentum. As their confidence returned, so did their voices. Their howls to the roof bounced back off the metal structure.
Artemis drew his knees closer to his chin. The end. All over. Inconceivable that he should die this way, when there was so much to be done.
The howling made it hard to concentrate. The smell didn’t help either.
Holly gripped his shoulder. “Close your eyes, Artemis. You won’t feel a thing.”
But Artemis did not close his eyes. Instead he cast his gaze upward. Aboveground, where his parents were waiting to hear from him. Parents who never had the chance to be truly proud of him.
He opened his mouth to whisper a good-bye, but what he saw over his head choked the words in his throat.
‘That proves it,“ he said. ”This must be a hallucination.“
Holly looked upward. A section of the hemisphere’s panel had been removed, and a rope was being lowered toward the temple roof. Swinging from the rope was what appeared to be a naked and extremely hairy rear end.
‘I don’t believe it!“ Holly exclaimed, jumping to her feet. ”You took your sweet time getting here!“
She seemed to be conversing with a posterior. And then, even more amazingly, the posterior appeared to answer.
‘I love you too, Holly. Now, close anything that’s open, because I’m about to overload these troll’s senses.“
For a moment Holly’s face was blank, then realization widened her eyes and sucked the blood from her cheeks. She grabbed Artemis by the shoulders.
‘Lie flat with your hands over your ears. Shut your eyes and mouth. And whatever you do, don’t breathe in.“
Artemis lay on the roof. “Tell me there’s a creature on the other end of that posterior.”
‘There is,“ confirmed Holly. ”But it’s the posterior we have to worry about.“
The trolls were seconds away by this point.
Close enough for Holly and Artemis to see the red in their eyes and the years of dirt caked in every dreadlock.
Overhead, Mulch Diggums (for of course it was he) released a gentle squib of wind from his backside. Just enough to propel him in a gentle circle on the end of his rope. The circular motion was necessary to ensure an even spread of the gas he intended to release.
Once he had completed three revolutions, he bore down internally and let fly with every bubble of gas in his bloated stomach.
Because trolls are by nature tunnel creatures, they are guided as much by their sense of smell as their night vision. A blinded troll can often survive for years, navigating his way to food and water supplies by smell alone.
Mulch’s sudden gaseous recyclings sent a million conflicting scent messages to each troll’s brain. The smell was bad enough, and the wind was sufficient to blow back the trolls’ dreadlocks, but the combination of scents inside the dwarf gas, including clay, vegetation, insect life, and everything else Mulch had eaten over the past few days, was enough to short out the trolls’ entire nervous systems. They collapsed to their knees, clasping their poor aching heads in taloned hands. One was so close to Artemis and Holly that its shaggy forearm rested across the LEP captain’s back.
Holly wriggled out from under the limb. “Let’s go,” she said, pulling Artemis to his feet. “The gas won’t put the trolls out for any longer than the light.”
Overhead, Mulch’s revolutions were slowing.
‘I thank you,“ he said with a theatrical bow, which is not easy on a rope. The dwarf scampered up the rope, gripping with fingers and toes, then lowered it to Artemis and Holly.
‘Jump on,“ he said. ”Quickly.“
Artemis tested the rope skeptically.
‘Surely that strange creature is too small to haul both of us all the way up there.“
Holly placed her foot in a loop at the rope’s end. “True, but he’s not alone.”
Artemis squinted at the hemisphere’s missing panel. Another figure had appeared in the gap.
The figure’s features were in deep shadow, but the silhouette was unmistakable.
‘Butler !“ he said through his smile. ”You’re here.“
And suddenly, in spite of everything, Artemis felt completely safe.
‘Hurry up, Artemis,“ called his bodyguard. ”We don’t have a second to waste.“
Artemis stepped onto the rope beside Holly, and Butler quickly pulled them both out of danger.
‘Well?“ said Holly, her face inches from his own. ”We survived. Does that mean we’re friends now? Bonded by trauma.“
Artemis frowned. Friends? Did he have room in his life for a friend? Then again, did he have a choice in the matter?
‘Yes,“ he replied. ”I’ve had little experience in this area, so I may have to read up on it.“
Holly rolled her eyes. “Friendship is not a science, Mud Boy. Forget about your massive brain for one minute. Just do what you feel is right.”
Artemis couldn’t believe what he was about to say.
Perhaps the thrill of survival was affecting his judgment. “I feel that I shouldn’t be paid to help a friend. Keep your fairy gold. Opal Koboi has to be stopped.”
Holly smiled with genuine warmth for the first time since the commander’s death, but there was a hint of steel in there too.
‘With the four of us on her tail, she doesn’t stand a chance.“

The Opal Deception（7）TROLL HASTY

2008-11-05T16:52:00.000-08:00

Chapter 6: TROLL HASTY

Under the Atlantic Ocean, Two Miles off the Kerry Coast, Irish Waters

Ten thousand feet below the surface of the Atlantic, an LEP sub-shuttle was speeding through a minor volcanic trench toward the mouth of a subterranean river. The river led to an LEP shuttleport where the subshuttle’s passengers could transfer to a regular craft.
The craft had three passengers and a pilot. The passengers were a dwarf felon and the two Atlantis marshals who were transporting him.
Mulch Diggums, the felon in question, was in high spirits for someone in prison clothes. The reason being that his appeal had finally come through, and his lawyer was optimistic that all charges against his client were about to be quashed on a technicality.
Mulch Diggums was a tunnel dwarf who had abandoned the mines in favor of a life of crime.
He removed items of value from Mud People’s houses and sold them on the black market. In the past few years his destiny had become intertwined with those of Artemis Fowl and Holly Short, and he had played a key part in their adventures.Grassland Fence
Inevitably this roller-coaster lifestyle had come crashing down around him as the long arm of the LEP closed in. Before he had been led away to serve the remainder of his sentence, Mulch Diggums was permitted to say good-bye to his human friend.
Artemis had given him two things: one was a note advising him to check the dates on the original search warrant for his cave. The other was a gold medallion to be returned to Artemis in two years. Apparently Artemis wished to resurrect their partnership at that time. Mulch had studied the medallion a thousand times, searching for its secrets, until his constant rubbing wore down the gold plating to reveal a computer disk beneath.
Obviously Artemis had recorded a message to himself. A way to return the memories that the LEP had taken from him.
As soon as he had been transported to the Deeps Maximum Security Prison outside Atlantis, Mulch had put in a request for a counsel call. When his state-appointed attorney had grudgingly turned up, Mulch advised him to check the dates on the search warrant leading to his original arrest. Somehow, amazingly, the dates were wrong. According to the LEP computer, Julius Root had searched his cave before obtaining a search warrant. The warrant nullified this and all later arrests. All that remained was a lengthy processing period and one last interview with the arresting officer, and Mulch would be a free dwarf.
Finally, the day had come. Mulch was being shuttled to Police Plaza for his meeting with Julius Root. Fairy law allowed Root one thirty-minute interview to squeeze some kind of confession from Mulch. All the dwarf had to do was stay quiet, and he would be eating vole curry in his favorite dwarf chophouse by dinnertime.Grassland Fence
Mulch closed his fist around the medallion. He had no doubt who was pulling the strings here. Somehow, Artemis had hacked the LEP computer and changed his records. The Mud Boy was setting him free.
One of the marshals, a slight elf with Atlantean gills, sucked a slobbery breath through his neck, letting it out through his mouth.
‘Hey, Mulch,“ he wheezed. ”What are you going to do when your appeal is turned down? Are you gonna crack up like a little girl? Or are you gonna take it real stoic, like a dwarf should?“
Mulch smiled, exposing his unfeasibly large number of teeth. “Don’t worry about me, fishboy. I’ll be eating one of your cousins by tonight.”
Generally the sight of Mulch’s tombstone teeth was enough to freeze any smart-aleck comments, but the Marshal was not used to back talk from an inmate.
‘Keep at it with the big mouth, dwarf. I have plenty of rocks for you to chew back in the Deeps.“
‘In your dreams, fishboy,“ retorted Mulch, enjoying the banter after months of kowtowing.
The officer rose to his feet. “It’s Vishby, the name is Vishby.”
‘Yes, fishboy, that’s what I said.“
The second officer, a water sprite with batlike wings folded behind his back, chuckled.
‘Leave him alone, Vishby. Don’t you know who you’re talking to? This here is Mulch Diggums. The most famous thief under the world.“
Mulch smiled, though fame is not a good thing when you’re a thief.
‘This guy has a whole list of genius moves to his credit.“
Mulch’s smile faded as he realized that he was about to be the butt of more jokes.
‘Yeah, so, first he steals the Jules Rimet trophy from the humans and tries to sell it to an undercover LEP fairy.“
Vishby sat rubbing is hands in glee. “You don’t say? What a brain! How does it fit in that itty-bitty head?”
The sprite strutted along the shuttle’s aisle, delivering his lines like an actor. “So then he lifts some of the Artemis Fowl gold, and lays low in Los Angeles. And do you want to know how he lays low?“
Mulch groaned.Grassland Fence
‘Tell me,“ wheezed Vishby, his gills unable to suck in air fast enough.
‘He buys his self a penthouse apartment and starts building a collection of stolen Academy Awards.“
Vishby laughed until his gills flapped.
Mulch could take it no longer. He shouldn’t have to put up with this; he was virtually a free fairy, for goodness’ sake. “Hisself? Hisself? I think you’ve spent a bit too long under water. The pressure is squashing your brain.”
‘My brain is squashed?“ said the sprite. ”I’m not the one who spent a couple of centuries in prison. I’m not the one wearing manacles and a mouth ring.“
It was true. Mulch’s criminal career had not exactly been an unqualified success. He had been caught more than he’d escaped. The LEP was just too technologically advanced to evade. Maybe it was time to go straight, while he still had his looks.
Mulch shook the chains that shackled him to a rail in the holding area. “I won’t be wearing these for long.”
Vishby opened his mouth to respond, then paused.
A plasma screen was flashing red on a wall panel. Red was urgent. There was an important message coming through. Vishby hooked an earphone over his ear and turned the screen away from Mulch. As the message was delivered, his face lost every trace of levity. Several moments later, he tossed the headphones on the console.
‘It looks like you’ll be wearing those chains for a bit longer than you thought.“
Mulch’s jaw strained against the steel mouth ring.
‘Why? What’s happened?“
Vishby scratched a strip of gill rot on his neck. “I shouldn’t tell you this, convict, but Commander Root has been murdered.”
Mulch couldn’t have been more shocked if they had connected him to the underworld grid.
‘Murdered? How?“
‘Explosion,“ said Vishby. ”Another LEP officer is the prime suspect. Captain Holly Short. She’s missing, presumed dead on the surface, but that hasn’t been confirmed.“
‘I’m not a bit surprised,“ said the water sprite. ”Females are too temperamental for police work. They couldn’t even handle a simple transport job like this.“
Mulch was in shock. He felt as though his brain had snapped its moorings and was spinning in his head. Holly murdered Julius? How could that be possible? It wasn’t possible, simple as that.
There must be a mistake. And now Holly was missing, presumed dead. How could this be happening?Grassland Fence
‘Anyways,“ continued Vishby. ”We gotta turn this crate around and head back to Atlantis.
Obviously your little hearing is being postponed indefinitely, until this entire mess gets sorted out.“
The water sprite slapped Mulch playfully on the cheek. “Tough break, dwarf. Maybe they’ll get the red tape untangled in a couple of years.”
Mulch barely felt the slap, though the words penetrated. A couple of years. Could he take a couple of years in the Deeps? Already his soul cried out for the tunnels. He needed to feel soft earth between his fingers. His insides needed real roughage to clear them out. And of course, there was a chance that Holly was still alive and needed help. A friend. He had no option but to escape.
Julius dead. It couldn’t be true.
Mulch mentally leafed through his dwarf abilities to select the best tool for this escape. He had long since forfeited his magic by breaking most of the Fairy Book’s commandments, but dwarfs had extraordinary gifts granted them by evolution.
Some of these were common knowledge among the People, but dwarfs were a notoriously secretive race who believed that their survival depended on concealing these talents. It was well known that dwarfs excavated tunnels by ingesting the earth through their unhinged jaws, then ejecting the recycled dirt and air through the other end. Most fairies were aware that dwarfs could drink through their pores, and if they stopped drinking for a while, then these pores ISO were transformed into minisuction cups. Fewer People knew that dwarf spit was luminous, and hardened when layered. And no one knew that a by-product of dwarf flatulence was a methane-producing bacterium called Methanobrevibacter smithii, which prevented decompression sickness in deep-sea divers. In fairness, dwarfs didn’t know this either; all they knew was that on the rare occasion they found themselves accidentally burrowing into the open sea, the bends did not seem to affect them.
Mulch thought about it for a moment and realized that there was a way to combine all of his talents and get out of here. He had to put his on-the-hoof plan into effect immediately, before they went into the deep Atlantic trenches. Once the subshuttle went too deep, he would never make it.Grassland Fence
The craft swung in a long arc until it was heading back the way it had come. The pilot would punch the engines as soon as they were outside Irish Fishing waters. Mulch began to lick his palms, smoothing the spittle through his halo of wild hair.
Vishby laughed. “What are you doing, Diggums? Cleaning up for your cell mate?“
Mulch would have dearly loved to unhinge his jaw and take a bite out of Vishby, but the mouth ring prevented him from opening his mouth far enough to unhinge. He had to content himself with an insult.
‘I may be a prisoner, fishboy, but in ten years I’ll be ISI free. You, on the other hand, will be an ugly bottom-feeder for the rest of your life.“
Vishby scratched his gill rot furiously.
‘You just bought yourself six weeks in solitary, mister.“
Mulch slathered his fingers with spittle and spread it around the crown of his head, reaching as far back as the manacles would allow. He could feel his hair hardening, clamping onto his head like a helmet. Exactly like a helmet. As he licked, Mulch drew great breaths of air through his nose, storing the air in his intestines. Each breath sucked air out of the pressurized space faster than the pumps could push it back in.
The marshals did not notice this unusual behavior, and even if they had, the pair would doubtless have put it down to nerves. Deep breathing and grooming. Classic nervous traits. Who could blame Mulch for being nervous; after all, he was heading back to the very place criminals had nightmares about.Grassland Fence
Mulch licked and breathed, his chest blowing up like a bellows. He felt the pressure fluttering down below, anxious to be released.
Hold on, he told himself.
You will need every bubble of that air.
The shell on his head crackled audibly now, and if the lights had been dimmed, it would have glowed brightly. The air was growing thin, and Vishby’s gills noticed, even if he didn’t.
They rippled and flapped, boosting their oxygen intake. Mulch sucked again, a huge gulp of air. A bow plate clanged as the pressure grew.
The sea sprite noticed the change first.
‘Hey, fishboy.“
Vishby’s pained expression spoke of years enduring this nickname. “How many times do I have to tell you?”
‘Okay, Vishby, keep your scales on. Is it getting hard to breathe in here? I can’t keep my wings up.“
Vishby touched his gills; they were flapping like bunting in the wind. “Wow. My gills are going crazy. What’s happening here?” He pressed the cabin intercom panel. “Everything all right?
Maybe we could boost the air pumps.“
The voice that came back was calm and professional, but with an unmistakably anxious undertone. “We’re losing pressure in the holding area. I’m trying to nail down the leak now.”
‘Leak?“ squeaked Vishby. ”If we depressurize at this depth, the shuttle will crumple like a paper cup.“
Mulch took another huge breath.
‘Get everyone into the cockpit,“ the voice declared. ”Come through the air lock, right now.“
‘I don’t know,“ said Vishby. ”We’re not supposed to untie the prisoner. He’s a slippery one.“
The slippery one took another breath. And this time a stern plate actually buckled with a crack like thunder.
‘Okay, okay. We’re coming.“
Mulch held out his hands. “Hurry up, fishboy. We don’t all have gills.”
Vishby swiped his security card along the magnetic strip on Mulch’s manacles. The manacles popped open. Mulch was free. As free as you can be in a prison sub with ten thousand crushing feet of water overhead. He stood, taking one last gulp of air.
Vishby noticed the act. “Hey, convict, what are you doing?” he asked. “Are you sucking in all the air?”
Mulch burped. “Who, me? That’s ridiculous.”
The sprite was equally suspicious. “He’s up to something. Look, his hair is all shiny. I bet this is one of those secret dwarf arts.”
Mulch tried to look skeptical. “What? Air-sucking and shiny hair? I’m not surprised we kept it a secret.“
Vishby squinted at him. His eyes were red rimmed, and his speech was slurred from oxygen deprivation. “You’re up to something. Put out your hands.”Grassland Fence
Being shackled again was not part of the plan. Mulch feigned weakness. “I can’t breathe,” he said, leaning against the wall. “I hope I don’t die in your custody.”
This statement caused enough distraction for Mulch to heave one more mighty breath. The stern plate creased inwardly and a silver stress line cracked through the paint. Red pressure lights flared on all over the compartment.
The pilot’s voice blared through the speaker.
‘Get in here!“ he shouted, all traces of composure gone. ”She’s gonna fold.“
Vishby grabbed Mulch by the lapels. “What did you do, dwarf?”
Mulch sank to his knees, flicking open the bum-flap at the rear of his prison overalls.
He gathered his legs beneath him, ready to move.
‘Listen, Vishby,“ he said. ”You’re a moron, but not a bad guy, so do like the pilot says and get in there.“
Vishby’s gills flapped weakly, searching for air. “You’ll be killed, Diggums.”
Mulch winked at him. “I’ve been dead before.”
Mulch could hold on to the gas no longer. His digestive tract was stretched like a magician’s animal balloon. He folded his arms across his chest, aimed the coated tip of his head at the weakened plate, and let the gas loose.
The resultant emission shook the subshuttle to its very rivets, sending Mulch rocketing across the hold. He slammed into the stern plate, smack in the center of the fault line, punching straight through. His speed popped him through into the ocean perhaps half a second before the sudden change in pressure flooded the sub’s chamber. Half a second later, the rear chamber was crushed like a ball of used tinfoil.
Vishby and his partner had escaped to the pilot’s cockpit just in time.
Mulch sped toward the surface, a stream of released gas bubbles clipping him along at a rate of several knots. His dwarf lungs fed on the trapped air in his digestive tract, and the luminous helmet of spittle sent out a corona of greenish light to illuminate his way.
Of course they came after him. Vishby and the water sprite were both amphibious Atlantean dwellers. As soon as they jettisoned the wreckage of the rear compartment, the marshals cleared the air lock, finning after their fugitive. But they never had a prayer: Mulch was gas powered, they merely had wings and fins. Whatever pursuit equipment they’d had was at the bottom of the ocean, along with the rear compartment, and the cockpit’s backup engines could barely outrun a crab.
The Atlantis marshals could only watch as their captive jetted toward the surface, mocking them with every bubble from his behind.Grassland Fence

Butler‘s Cell Phone had been reduced to so much plastic chips and wiring by the jump from the hotel window. This meant that Artemis could not call him if he needed immediate assistance. The bodyguard double-parked the Hummer outside the first Phonetix store he saw, and purchased a tri-band phone and car kit. Butler activated the phone on the way to the airport and punched in Artemis’s number.
No good. The phone was switched off. Butler hung up and tried Fowl Manor. Nobody Home and no messages.
Butler breathed deeply, stayed calm, and floored the accelerator. The drive to the airport took less than ten minutes. The giant bodyguard did not waste time returning the Hummer to the rental agency car park, preferring to abandon it in the passenger drop-off area. It would be towed, and he would be fined, but he didn’t have time to worry about it now.
The next plane to Ireland was fully booked, so Butler paid a Polish Businessman two thousand euro for his first- class ticket, and in forty-five minutes he was on the Aer Lingus shuttle to Dublin airport. He kept trying Artemis’s number until they started the engines, and switched his phone on again as soon as the wheels touched down.
It was dark by the time he left the Arrivals terminal. Less than half a day had passed since they had broken into the safe-deposit box in Munich ‘s International Bank. It was incredible that so much could happen in such a short time. Still, when you worked for Artemis Fowl II, the incredible was almost a daily occurrence. Butler had been with Artemis since the day of his birth, just over fourteen years ago, and in that time he had had been dragged into more fantastic situations than the average presidential bodyguard.Grassland Fence
The Fowl Bentley was parked in the prestige level of the short-stay car park. Butler slotted his new phone into the car kit and tried Artemis again.
No luck. But when he remote-accessed the mailbox at Fowl Manor there was one message.
From Artemis. Butler ‘s grip tightened on the leather steering wheel. Alive. The boy was alive at least.
The message started well enough, then took a decidedly strange turn. Artemis claimed to be unhurt, but perhaps was suffering from a concussion or posttraumatic stress, because Butler ‘s young charge also claimed that fairies were responsible for the strange missile. A pixie, to be precise.
And now he was in the company of an elf, which was apparently a completely different animal to a pixie. Not only that, but the elf was an old friend named Holly, whom they had forgotten. And the pixie was an old enemy who they couldn’t remember. It was all very strange. Butler could only conclude that Artemis was trying to tell him something, and that hidden inside this crazed meandering was a message. He would have to analyse the tape as soon as he returned to Fowl Manor.
Then the recording became an unfolding drama.
More players entered the range of the Artemis’s microphone. The alleged pixie, Opal, and her bodyguards joined the group. Threats were exchanged and Artemis tried to talk his way out. It didn’t work. If Artemis had a fault it was that he tended to be very patronizing, even in crisis situations.
The pixie, Opal, or whoever it really was, certainly didn’t take kindly to being spoken down to. It appeared that she considered herself every inch Artemis’s equal, if not his superior. She ordered Artemis silenced in midlecture, and her command was obeyed instantly. Butler experienced a moment of dread, until the pixie stated that Artemis was not dead, merely stunned.
Artemis’s new ally had been similarly stunned, but not before she learned of the pixie’s theatrical plan. Something to do with the Eleven Wonders, and trolls.Grassland Fence
‘You cannot be serious,“ muttered Butler, pulling off the motorway at the exit for Fowl Manor.
To the average passerby it would seem as though several rooms in the manor at the end of the avenue were occupied, but Butler knew that the bulbs in these rooms were all on timers, and would alternate at irregular intervals. There was even a stereo system wired to each room that would pump talk radio into various areas of the house. All measures designed to put off the casual burglar. None of which, Butler knew, would put off a professional thief.
The bodyguard opened the electronic gates and sped up the pebbled driveway. He parked the car directly in front of the main door, not bothering to place it in the shelter of the double garage. He pulled his handgun and clip holster from a magnetic strip under the driver’s seat. It was possible that the kidnappers could have sent a representative. He could already be inside the manor.
Butler knew as soon as he opened the front door that something was wrong. The alarm’s thirty-second warning should have begun its countdown immediately, but it did not. This was because the entire box was encased in some shiny crackling fiberglass-like substance. Butler poked it gingerly. The stuff glowed and seemed almost organic.
Butler proceeded along the lobby, sticking to the walls. He glanced toward the ceilings. Green lights winked in the shadows. At least the cctv cameras were still working. Even if the manor’s visitors had left, he could get a look at them on the security tapes.
The bodyguard’s foot brushed against something. He glanced down. A large crystal bowl lay on the rug, the remains of a sherry trifle slopping in its base. Beside it lay a wad of gravy-encrusted tinfoil. A hungry kidnapper? Five feet on he found an empty Moet champagne bottle and a decimated chicken carcass. Just how many intruders had been here?
The remnants of food formed a trail that led toward the study. Butler followed it upstairs, stepping over a half- eaten T-bone steak, two chunks of fruitcake, and a Pavlova shell. A light shone from the study doorway, casting a small shadow into the hall. There was someone in the study. A not very tall someone. Artemis?
Butler ‘s spirits rose for a second when he heard his employer’s voice, but they sank just as quickly.
He recognized those words; he had listened to them himself in the car. The intruder was playing the taped message on the answering machine.
Butler crept into the study, stepping so lightly that his footfalls would not have alerted a deer.
Even from the back, this intruder was a strange fellow. He was barely three feet tall, with a stocky torso and thick muscled limbs. His entire body appeared to be covered with wild wiry hair that seemed to move independently. His head was encased in a helmet of the same glowing substance that had incapacitated the alarm box. The intruder wore a blue jumpsuit with a flap in the seat. The flap was half unbuttoned, giving Butler a view of a hairy rear end that seemed unsettlingly familiar.
The taped message was coming to an end.Grassland Fence
Artemis’s abductor was describing what was in store for the Irish boy. “Oh yes,” she said. “I had a nasty little scenario planned for Foaly-something theatrical involving the Eleven Wonders. But now I have decided that you are worthy of it.”
‘How nasty?“ asked Artemis’s new ally, Holly.
‘Troll nasty,“ responded Opal.
The Fowl Manor intruder made a loud sucking noise, then discarded the remains of an entire rack of lamb.
‘Not good,“ he said. ”This is really bad.“
Butler cocked his weapon, aiming it squarely at the intruder.
‘It’s about to get worse,“ he said.
Butler sat the intruder in one of the study’s leather armchairs, then pulled a second chair around to face him. From the front, this little creature looked even stranger. His face was basically a mass of wirelike hair with eyes and teeth. The eyes occasionally glowed red like a fox’s, and the teeth looked like two rows of picket fencing. This was no hairy child: this was an adult creature of some sort.
‘Don’t tell me,“ sighed Butler. ”You’re an elf.“
The creature sat up straight. “How dare you,” he cried. “I am a dwarf, as you very well know.”
Butler thought back to Artemis’s confusing message. “Let me guess. I used to know you, but somehow I forgot. Oh yes, the fairy police wiped my mind.”
Mulch burped. “Correct, you’re not as slow as you look.”
Butler raised the gun. “This is still cocked, so less of the lip, little man.”
‘Pardon me, I didn’t realize we were enemies now.“
Butler leaned forward in his chair. “We were friends?”
Mulch thought about it. “Not at first, no. But I think you grew to love me for my charm and noble character.”
Butler sniffed. “And personal hygiene?”
‘That’s not fair,“ objected Mulch. ”Do you have any idea what I had to do to get here? I escaped from a sub-shuttle and swam a couple of miles in freezing cold water. Then I had to break into a blacksmith’s in the west of Ireland, about the only place they still have blacksmiths, and snip off my mouth ring. Don’t ask. Then I burrowed across the entire country to find out the truth about this affair. And when I get here one of the few Mud Men I don’t feel like taking a bite out of is pointing a gun at me.“
‘Hold on a minute,“ said Butler. ”I need to get a tissue to wipe my eyes.“
‘You don’t believe any of this, do you?“
‘Do I believe in fairy police and pixie conspiracies and tunneling dwarfs? No, I don’t.“
Mulch slowly reached inside his jumpsuit and pulled out the gold-plated computer disk. “Maybe this will open your mind.”
Butler turned on one of Artemis’s Powerbooks, making sure the laptop was not connected to any other computer by wire or infrared. If this disk did contain a virus, then they would only lose one hard drive. He cleaned the disk off with a spray and cloth and slid it into the multidrive.
The computer asked for a password.Grassland Fence
‘This disk is locked,“ said Butler. ”What’s the password?“
Mulch shrugged, a French baguette in each hand. “Hey, I don’t know. It’s Artemis’s disk.”
Butler frowned. If this really was Artemis’s disk, then Artemis’s password would open it. He typed in three words, Aurum est potestas: Gold is power. The family motto. Seconds later the locked disk icon was replaced by a window containing two folders. One was labeled Artemis, the other Butler. Before the bodyguard opened either, he ran a virus check, just in case. The check came up clean.
Feeling strangely nervous, Butler opened the folder with his name on it. There were more than a hundred files on it. Mostly text files, but some video, too. The largest file was labeled view me first.
Butler double-clicked that file.
A small Quick-Time player opened on the screen.
In the picture, Artemis was seated at the very desk that the laptop rested on. Bizarre. Butler clicked the PLAY triangle.
‘Hello, Butler,“ said Artemis’s voice, or a very sophisticated fake. ”If you are watching this, then our good friend Mister Diggums has come through.“
‘You hear that?“ spat Mulch through a mouthful of bread.
‘Good friend Mister Diggums.“
‘Quiet!“
‘Everything you think you know about this planet is about to change,“ continued Artemis. ”Humans are not the only sentient beings on Earth, in fact we are not even the most technologically advanced. Below the surface are several species of fairy. Most are possibly primates, but I have not had the opportunity to conduct medical examinations as of yet.“
Butler could not hide his impatience. “Please, Artemis. Get to the point.”
‘But more of that at another time,“ said Artemis, as if he had heard. ”There is a possibility that you are watching this at a time of peril, so I must arm you with all the knowledge that we have gathered during our adventures with the Lower Elements Police.“
Lower Elements Police? thought Butler. This is all a fake. Somehow it’s fake.
Again, the video-Artemis seemed to read his thoughts.
‘In order to verify the fantastical facts that I am about to reveal, I will say one word. Just one. A word that I could not possibly know unless you had told me. Something you said as you lay dying, before Holly Short cured you with her magic. What would you tell me if you lay dying, old friend. What would be the single word you would say?“
I would tell you my first name, thought Butler. Something only two other people in the world know. Something completely forbidden by bodyguard etiquette, unless it is too late to matter.
Artemis leaned in to the camera. “Your name, my old friend, is Domovoi.”
Butler was reeling. Oh my God, he thought. It’s true, it’s all true.Grassland Fence
Something began to happen in his brain. Disjointed images flashed through his subconscious, releasing repressed memories. The false past was swept away by blinding truth. An electric connect-the-dots jolted through his cranium, making everything clear. It all made sense now. He felt old because the healing had aged him. He found it difficult to breath sometimes because Kevlar strands had been woven into the skin over his chest wound. He remembered Holly’s kidnapping, and the B’wa Kell goblin revolution. He remembered Holly and Julius, the centaur Foaly, and of course, Mulch Diggums. There was no need to read the other files; one word had been enough. He remembered everything.
Butler studied the dwarf with fresh eyes.
Everything was so familiar now. The vibrating frizz of hair, the bowlegged stance, the smell. He sprang from his chair and strode across the room to Mulch, who was busy raiding the study’s minifridge.
‘Mulch, you old reprobate. Good to see you.“
‘Now he remembers,“ said the dwarf without turning around. ”Do you have anything to say?“
Butler glanced at the open bum-flap. “Yes.
Don’t point that thing at me. I’ve seen the damage it can do.“
The bodyguard’s smile froze on his face as he remembered one detail of Artemis’s phone message.
‘Julius Root. I heard something about a bomb.“
Mulch turned from the fridge, his beard laced with a cocktail of dairy products.
‘Yes. Julius is gone. I can’t believe it. He’s been chasing me for so many years.“
Butler felt a terrific weariness weigh on his shoulders. He had lost too many comrades over the years.
‘And what’s more,“ continued Mulch. ”Holly is accused of murdering him.“
‘That’s just not possible. We have to find them.“
‘Now you’re talking,“ said the dwarf, slamming the fridge door. ”Do you have a plan?“
‘Yes. Find Holly and Artemis.“
Mulch rolled his eyes. “Pure genius. It’s a wonder you need Artemis at all.”
Now that the dwarf had eaten his fill, the two reacquainted friends sat at the conference table and brought each other up to speed.
Butler cleaned his gun as he spoke. He often did this in times of stress. It was a comfort thing.
‘So, Opal Koboi somehow gets out of prison and hatches this complicated plot to revenge herself on everyone who put her in there. Not only that, but she sets Holly up to take the blame.“
‘Remind you of anyone?“ asked the dwarf.
Butler polished the Sig Sauer’s slide.
‘Artemis may be a criminal, but he is not evil.“
‘Who said anything about Artemis?“
‘Well what about you, Mulch? Why didn’t Opal try to kill you?“
‘Ah well,“ sighed the dwarf, ever the martyour.Grassland Fence
‘The LEP didn’t advertise my involvement. It wouldn’t do to have the proud officers of our police force tarnished by association with a known criminal.“
Butler nodded. “It makes sense. So you’re safe for now and Artemis and Holly are alive.
But Opal has something planned for them. Something to do with trolls and the Eleven Wonders. Any ideas?“
‘We both know about trolls, right?“
Butler nodded again. He had fought a troll not so long ago. Without a doubt the toughest battle he had ever been involved in. He couldn’t believe the LEP had managed to wipe it from his mind.
‘But what about the Eleven Wonders?“
‘The Eleven Wonders is a theme park in Haven’s old-town district. Fairies are obsessed with Mud Men, so one bright spark billionaire thought it would be a great idea to build smaller models of the human wonders of the world and put them all in one place. It did okay for a few years, but I think looking at those buildings made the People remember just how much they missed the surface.“
Butler ran through a list in his head. “But there are only seven wonders in the world.”
‘There used to be eleven,“ said Mulch. ”Trust me, I have photographs. Anyway, the park is closed down now. That whole area of the city has been abandoned for years; the tunnels are not safe. And the whole place is overrun by trolls.“ He stopped suddenly, the horror of what he had just said hitting Home. ”Oh gods. Trolls.“
Butler began to quickly reassemble his weapon.
‘We need to get down there right now.“
‘Impossible,“ said Mulch. ”I can’t even begin to think how.“
Butler dragged the dwarf to his feet and propelled him toward the door. “Maybe not. But you know someone. People in your Business always know someone.“
Mulch ground his teeth thinking about it. “You know, there is someone. A sprite who owes Holly his life. But whatever I persuade him to do for us won’t be legal.” Butler grabbed a bag of weaponry from a cabinet.Grassland Fence
‘Good,“ he said. ”Illegal is always faster.“

The Opal Deception（6）GREET THE NEIGHBORS

2008-10-28T18:47:00.000-07:00

Chapter 5: GREET THE NEIGHBORS

E37, The Lower Elements

Foaly could not believe what was happening. His eyes were sending information to his brain, but his brain refused to accept it. Because if he were to accept this information, he would have to believe that his friend Holly Short had just shot her own commander and was now attempting to escape to the surface. This was completely impossible, though not everybody was so reluctant to accept this.
The centaur’s mobile tech shuttle had been commandeered by Internal Affairs. This operation now fell under their jurisdiction because an LEP officer was suspected of a crime. All LEP personnel had been ejected from the shuttle, but Foaly was allowed to stay simply because he was the only one able to operate the surveillance equipment.Grassland Fence
Commander Ark Sool was an LEP gnome who went after suspect police fairies.
Sool was unusually tall and thin for a gnome, like a giraffe in a baboon’s skin. His dark hair was slicked straight back in a no-nonsense style, and his fingers and ears boasted none of the golden adornments generally so beloved of the gnome families. Ark Sool was the highest-ranking gnome officer in Internal Affairs, and he believed that the LEP was basically a bunch of loose cannons who were presided over by a maverick. And now the maverick was dead, killed, apparently, by the biggest loose cannon in the bunch. Holly Short may have narrowly avoided criminal charges on two previous occasions. She would not escape this time.
‘Play the video again, centaur,“ he instructed, tapping the worktop with his cane. Most annoying.
‘We’ve looked at this a dozen times,“ protested Foaly. ”I don’t see the point.“
Sool silenced him with a glare from his red-rimmed eyes. “You don’t see the point.“ The centaur doesn’t see the point? I don’t see where that’s an important factor in the current equation.
You, Mister Foaly, are here to press buttons, not to offer opinions. Commander Root placed far too much value on your opinions, and look where that got him, eh?“
Foaly swallowed the dozen or so acidic responses that were queuing on his tongue. If he was excluded from this operation now, he could do nothing to help Holly.
‘Play the video. Yessir.“
Foaly cued the video from E37. It was damning stuff. Julius and Holly hovered around General Scalene for several moments. They appeared to be quite agitated, then for some reason, and incredible as it sounded, Holly shot the commander with some kind of incendiary bullet. At this point they lost all video feeds from both helmets.Grassland Fence
‘Back up the tape twenty seconds,“ ordered Sool, leaning in close to the monitor. He poked his cane into the plasma screen. ”What’s that?“
‘Careful with the cane,“ said Foaly. ”These screens are expensive. I get them from Atlantis.“
‘Answer the question, centaur. What is that?“
Sool prodded the screen twice, just to show how little he cared about Foaly’s gizmos.
The Internal Affairs Commander was pointing to a slight shimmer on Root’s chest.
‘I’m not sure,“ admitted Foaly. ”It could be heat distortion, or maybe equipment failure. Or perhaps just a glitch. I’ll have to run some tests.“
Sool nodded. “Run your tests, though I don’t expect you’ll find anything. Short is a burnout, simple as that. She always was. I nearly had her before, but this time it’s cut and dried.”
Foaly knew he should bite his tongue, but he had to defend his friend. “Isn’t this all a bit convenient. First we lose sound, so we don’t know what was said. Then there’s this fuzzy patch that could be anything; and now we’re expected to believe that a decorated officer just up and shot her commander, an elf who was like a father to her.”
‘Yes, I see your point, Foaly,“ said Sool silkily. ”Very good. Nice to know you’re thinking on some level. But let’s stick to our respective jobs, eh? You build the machinery, and I operate it. For example, these new Neutrinos that our field personnel are armed with?“
‘Yes, what about them?“ said Foaly suspiciously.Grassland Fence
‘They are personalized to each officer, am I right? Nobody else can fire them. And each shot is registered?“
‘That is correct,“ admitted Foaly, all too aware where this was leading.
Sool waved his cane like a symphony conductor. “Well then, surely all we have to do is check Captain Short’s weapon’s log to see if she fired a shot at the precise time indicated on the video. If she did, then the film is authentic, and Holly Short did indeed murder her commander, regardless of what we can or cannot hear.”
Foaly ground his horsey teeth. Of course it made perfect sense. He had thought of it half an hour ago, and already knew what the cross-referencing would reveal. He pulled up Holly’s weapon’s log and read the relevant passage.
‘Weapon registered at zero nine forty, HMT. Six pulses at zero nine fifty-six, and then one level two pulse fired at zero nine fifty-eight.“
Sool slapped the cane into his palm in triumph. “One level two pulse fired at zero nine fifty-eight. Exactly right. Whatever else happened in that chute, Short fired on her commander.”
Foaly leaped out of his specially tailored office chair. “But a level two pulse couldn’t cause such a big explosion. It practically caved in the entire access tunnel.”
‘Which is why Short isn’t in custody right now,“ said Sool. ”It will take weeks to clean out that tunnel. I’ve had to send a Retrieval team through El, in Tar a. They will have to travel over ground to Paris and pick up her trail from there.“
‘But what about the explosion itself?“
Sool grimaced, as though Foaly’s questions were a bitter nugget in an otherwise delicious meal.
‘Oh, I’m sure there’s an explanation, centaur. Combustible gas, or a malfunction, or just bad luck. We’ll figure that out. For now my priority, and yours, is to bring Captain Short back here for trial. I want you to liaise with the Retrieval team. Feed them constant updates on Short’s position.“
Foaly nodded without enthusiasm. Holly was still wearing her helmet. And the LEP helmet could verify her identity and relay a constant stream of diagnostic information back to Foaly’s computers. They had no sound or video but there was plenty of information to track Holly wherever she might go in the world, or under it. At the moment, Holly was in Germany. Her heart rate was elevated but otherwise she was okay.Grassland Fence
Why did you run, Holly?
Foaly asked his absent friend silently.
If you’re innocent, why did you run?
‘Tell me where Captain Short is now,“ demanded Sool.
The centaur maximized the live feed from Holly’s helmet on the plasma screen.
‘She’s still in Germany, Munich, to be precise. She’s stopped moving now. Maybe she will decide to come Home.“
Sool frowned. “I seriously doubt it, centaur. She’s a bad egg, through and through.”
Foaly fumed. Manners dictated that only a friend refer to another fairy by species, and Sool was no friend of his. Or anyone’s.
‘We can’t say that for sure,“ said Foaly, through his clenched teeth.
Sool leaned even closer to the plasma screen, a slow smile stretching his tight skin.
‘Actually, centaur, you’re wrong there. I think we can safely say for sure that Captain Short won’t be coming back. Recall the Retrieval team immediately.“
Foaly checked Holly’s screen. The life signs from her helmet were all flatlining. One second she was stressed but alive, and the next she was gone. No heartbeat, no brain activity, no temperature reading. She couldn’t have simply taken off the helmet, as there was an infrared connection between each LEP officer and their helmet. No, Holly was dead, and it hadn’t been by natural causes.Grassland Fence
Foaly felt the tears brimming on his eyelids. Not Holly too.
‘Recall the Retrieval team? Are you insane, Sool? We have to find Holly. Find out what happened.“
Sool was unaffected by Foaly’s outburst. If anything, he appeared to enjoy it.
‘Short was a traitor and she was obviously in collusion with the goblins. Somehow her nefarious plan backfired and she was killed. I want you to remote-activate the incinerator in her helmet immediately, and we’ll close the book on a rogue officer.“
Foaly was aghast. “Activate the remote incinerator! I can’t do that.”
Sool rolled his eyes. “Again with the opinions. You don’t have authority here; you just obey it.“
‘But I’ll have a satellite picture in thirty minutes,“ protested the centaur. ”We can wait that long, surely.“
Sool elbowed past Foaly to the keyboard.
‘Negative. You know the regulations. No bodies are left exposed for the humans to find. It’s a tough rule, I know, but necessary.“
‘The helmet could have malfunctioned,“ said Foaly, grasping at straws.
‘Is it likely that all the life-sign readings could have flatlined at the same moment through equipment failure?“
‘No,“ admitted Foaly.
‘And just how unlikely is it?“
‘About one chance in ten million,“ said the technical adviser miserably.
Sool picked his way around the keyboard. “If you don’t have the stomach for it, centaur. I’ll do it myself.” He entered his password and detonated the incinerator in Holly’s helmet.
On a rooftop in Munich, Holly’s helmet dissolved in a pool of acid. And in theory, so did Holly’s body.Grassland Fence
‘There,“ said Sool, satisfied. ”She’s gone, and now we can all sleep a little easier.“
Not me, thought Foaly, staring forlornly at the screen. It will be a very long time before I sleep easy again.

Temple Bar, Dublin, Ireland
Artemis Fowl woke from a sleep haunted by nightmares. In his dreams, strange, red-eyed creatures had ripped open his chest with scimitar tusks and dined on his heart. He sat up in an undersized cot, both hands flying to his chest. His shirt was caked with dried blood, but there was no wound.
Artemis took several deep shuddering breaths, pumping oxygen through his brain.
Assess the situation, Butler always told him.
If you find yourself in unfamiliar territory, become familiar with it before opening your mouth. Ten seconds of observation could save your life.
Artemis looked around, eyelids fluttering like camera shutters, absorbing every detail. He was in a small box room, about ten square feet. One wall was completely transparent and appeared to look out over the Dublin quays. From the position of the Millennium Bridge, the room was somewhere in the Temple Bar area. The chamber itself was constructed from a strange material. Some kind of silver-gray fabric. Rigid, but malleable, with several plasma screens on the opaque walls. It was all extremely hi-tech, but seemed years old, and almost abandoned.
In the corner, a girl sat hunched on folding chair. She cradled her head in both hands, her shoulders hitching gently with sobs.Grassland Fence
Artemis cleared his throat. “Why are you crying, girl?”
The girl jerked upright, and it became immediately obvious that this was no normal girl. In fact, she appeared to belong to a totally different species.
‘Pointed ears,“ noted Artemis, with surprising composure. ”Prosthetic or real?“
Holly almost smiled through her tears. “Typical Artemis Fowl. Always looking for options. My ears are very real, as you well know… knew.”
Artemis was silent for several moments, processing the wealth of information in those few sentences.
‘Real pointed ears? Then you are of another species, not human. Possibly a fairy?“
Holly nodded. “I am a fairy. Actually, an elf. I’m what you would call a leprechaun too, but that’s just a job.”
‘And fairies speak English, do they?“
‘We speak all languages. The gift of tongues, it is part of our magic.“
Artemis knew that these revelations should send his world spinning on its axis, but he found himself accepting every word. It was as though he had always suspected the existence of fairies, and this was simply confirmation.
Although, strangely, he could not remember ever having even thought about fairies before this day.Grassland Fence
‘And you claim to know me? Personally or from some kind of surveillance? You certainly seem to have the technology.“
‘We’ve known you for a few years now, Artemis.
You made first contact, and we’ve been keeping an eye on you ever since.“
Artemis was slightly startled. “I made first contact?”
‘Yes. December, two years ago. You kidnapped me.“
‘Is this your revenge? That explosive device? My ribs?“ A horrible thought struck the Irish boy. ”And what about Butler ? Is he dead?“
Holly did her best to answer all of these questions.
‘It is revenge, but not mine. And Butler is alive. I just had to get you out of there before another attempt was made on your life.“
‘So we’re friends now?“
Holly shrugged. “Maybe. We’ll see.”
All of this was slightly confusing. Even for a genius.
Artemis crossed his legs in the lotus position and rested his temples against pointed fingers.
‘You had better tell me everything,“ he said, closing his eyes. ”From the beginning. And leave nothing out.“
So Holly did. She told Artemis how he had kidnapped her, then released her at the last moment. She told him how they had journeyed to the Arctic to rescue his father, and how they had foiled a goblin rebellion bankrolled by Opal Koboi.Grassland Fence
She recounted in great detail their mission to Chicago to steal back the C Cube, a super computer constructed by Artemis from pirated fairy technology. Finally, in a small quiet voice, she told of Commander Root’s death and of Opal Koboi’s sinister plot to bring the fairy and human worlds together.
Artemis sat perfectly still, absorbing hundreds of incredible facts. His brow was slightly creased as if the information were difficult to digest.
Finally, when his brain had organized the data, he opened his eyes.
‘Very well,“ he said. ”I don’t remember any of this, but I believe you. I accept that we humans have fairy neighbors below the planet’s surface.“
‘Just like that?“
Artemis’s lip curled. “Hardly. I have taken your story and cross-referenced it with the facts as I know them. The only other scenario that could explain everything that has happened, up to and including your own bizarre appearance, is a convoluted conspiracy theory involving the Russian Mafiya and a crack team of plastic surgeons. Hardly likely. But your fairy story fits, right down to something that you could not know about, Captain Short.”
‘Which is?“
‘After my alleged mind wipe, I discovered mirrored contact lenses in my own eyes and Butler ’s. Investigation revealed that I myself had ordered the lenses, though I had no memory of the fact. I suspect that I ordered them to cheat your mesmer“
Holly nodded. It made sense. Fairies had the power to mesmerize humans, but eye contact was part of the trick, coupled with a mesmeric voice. Mirrored contact lenses would leave the subject completely in control, while pretending to be under the mesmer.
‘The only reason for this would be if I had planted a trigger somewhere. Something that would cause my fairy memories to come rushing back. But what?“
‘I have no idea,“ said Holly. ”I was hoping that just seeing me would trigger recall.“
Artemis smiled in a very annoying way. As one would at a small child who had just suggested that the moon was made of cheese.Grassland Fence
‘No, Captain. I would guess that your Mister Foaly’s mind-wiping technology is an advanced version of the memory-suppressant drugs being experimented with by various governments. The brain, you see, is a complex instrument; if it can be convinced that something did not happen, it will invent all kinds of scenarios to maintain that illusion. Nothing can change its mind, so to speak.
Even if the conscious accepts something, the mind wipe will have convinced the subconscious otherwise. So, no matter how convincing you are, you cannot convert my altered subconscious. My subconscious probably believes that you are a hallucination or a miniature spy. No, the only way that my memories could be returned to me would be if my subconscious could not present a reasonable argument; say, if the one person that I trust completely presented me with irrefutable evidence.“
Holly felt herself growing annoyed. Artemis could get under her skin like nobody else. A child who treated everyone like children.
‘And who is this one person that you trust?“
Artemis smiled genuinely for the first time since Munich. “Why, myself, of course.”

Munich
Butler woke to find blood dripping from the tip of his nose. It was dripping onto the white hat of the hotel chef. The chef stood with a group of hotel kitchen staff in the middle of a destroyed storage shed. The man gripped a cleaver in his hairy fist, just in case this giant on the tattered mattress wedged into the rafters was a madman.
‘Excuse me,“ said the chef politely, which is unusual for a chef, ”are you alive?“
Butler considered the question. Apparently, unlikely as it seemed, he was alive. The mattress had saved him from the strange missile.
Artemis had survived, too. He remembered feeling his charge’s heartbeat just before he passed out.
It wasn’t there now.
‘I am alive,“ he grunted, a paste of tile dust and blood spilling from his lips. ”Where is the boy who was with me?“
The crowd assembled in the ruined shed looked at one another.Grassland Fence
‘There was no boy,“ said the chef finally. ”You fell through the roof all on your own.“
Doubtless, this group would like an explanation or they would inform the police.
‘Of course there was no boy. Forgive me; the mind tends to wander after a three-story fall.“
The group nodded as one. Who could blame the giant being a touch rattled?
‘I was leaning against the railing, sunning myself, when the railing gave way. Lucky for me, I managed to grab the mattress on the way down.“
This explanation was met with the mass skepticism it thoroughly deserved. The chef voiced the group’s doubts.
‘You managed to grab a mattress?“
Butler had to think quickly, which is not easy when all the blood in your body is concentrated in your forehead.
‘Yes. It was on the balcony. I had been resting in the sun.“
This entire sun Business was extremely unlikely. Especially considering that it was the middle of winter. Butler realized that there was only one way to dispel the crowd. It was drastic, but it should work.Grassland Fence
He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a small spiral pad.
‘Of course, I intend to sue the hotel for damages. Trauma alone should be worth a few million euros. Not to mention injuries. I presume I can count on you good people as witnesses.“
The chef paled, as did the others. Giving evidence against one’s employers was the first step to unemployment.
‘I… I don’t know, sir,“ he stammered.
‘I didn’t actually see anything.“ He paused to sniff the air. ”I think I smell my Pavlova burning. Dessert will be ruined.“
The chef hopped over the chunks of shattered tile, disappearing back into the hotel. The remaining staff followed his lead, and within seconds, Butler was on his own again. He smiled, though the action sent a flare of pain down his neck. The threat of a lawsuit generally scattered witnesses as effectively as any gunfire.
The giant Eurasian disentangled himself from the remains of the rafters. He really had been amazingly lucky not to be impaled on the beams. The mattress had absorbed most of the impact, and the timbers were rotten and had splintered harmlessly.
Butler dropped to the floor, brushing dust from his suit. His priority now was to find Artemis. It seemed likely that whoever had made the attempt on his life had taken the boy. Although, why would someone try to kill him and then take him prisoner? Unless their unknown enemy had taken advantage of the situation and decided to seek a ransom.Grassland Fence
Butler returned to the hotel room, where everything was as they had left it. There was absolutely no sign that anything had exploded in here. The only unusual things revealed by Butler ‘s investigations were small clusters of dead insects and spiders.
Curious. It was as though the blue flash of light only affected living things, leaving buildings unaffected.
A blue rinse, said his subconscious, but his conscious self took no notice.
Butler quickly packed Artemis’s box of tricks, and of course his own. The weapons and surveillance equipment would be held in a safe-deposit box at the airport. He left the Kronski Hotel without checking out. An early checkout would arouse suspicion, and with any luck, this entire matter could be resolved before the students on the school trip returned Home.
The bodyguard collected the Hummer in the hotel car park and set off for the airport. If Artemis had been kidnapped, then the kidnappers would contact Fowl Manor with their ransom demand. If Artemis had simply removed himself from danger, he had always been told to head for Home. Either way, the trail led to Fowl Manor, so that was where Butler intended to go.
Temple Bar, Dublin, Ireland Artemis had recovered sufficiently for his natural curiosity to surface. He walked around the cramped room, touching the spongy surface of the walls.
‘What is this place? Some form of surveillance hide?“Grassland Fence
‘Exactly,“ said Holly. ”I was on stakeout here a few months ago. A group of rogue dwarfs were meeting their jewelry fences here. From the outside, this is just another patch of sky on top of a building. It’s a cham pod.“
‘Cam, camouflage?“
‘No, cham, chameleon. This suit is cam, camouflage.“
‘You do know, I suppose, that chameleons don’t actually change color to suit their surroundings. They change according to mood and temperature.“
Holly looked out over Temple Bar. Below them thousands of tourists, musicians, and residents were winding their way through the small artisans’ streets.
‘You’d have to tell Foaly about that. He names all this stuff.“
‘Ah, yes,“ said Artemis. ”Foaly. He is a centaur, is he not?“
‘That’s right.“ Holly turned to face Artemis.
‘You’re taking this very calmly. Most humans completely freak out when they find out about us. Some go into shock.“
Artemis smiled. “I am not most humans.”
Holly turned back to the view. She was not going to argue with that statement.
‘So tell me, Captain Short. If all I am to the Fairy People is a threat, why did you heal me?“
Holly rested her forehead against the cham pod’s translucent face.
‘It’s our nature,“ she replied. ”And of course, I need you to help me to find Opal Koboi. We’ve done it before, we can do it again.“
Artemis stood beside her at the window.
‘So, first you mind-wipe me, and now you need me?“
‘Yes, Artemis. Gloat all you like. The mighty LEP need your help.“
‘Of course, there is the matter of my fee,“ said Artemis, I buttoning his jacket across the bloodstain on his shirt.Grassland Fence
Holly rounded on him. “Your fee? Are you serious? After all the Fairy People have done for you?
Can’t you just do something good for once in your life?“
‘Obviously you elves are an emotional race.
Humans are slightly more Business-minded. Here are the facts: you are a fugitive from justice, on the run from a murdering pixie genius. You have no funds and few resources. I am the only one who can help you track down this Opal Koboi. I think that’s worth a few bars of anybody’s gold.“
Holly glowered at him. “Like you said, Mud Boy. I don’t have any resources.”
Artemis spread his hands magnanimously.
‘I’m prepared to accept your word. If you can guarantee me one metric ton of gold from your hostage fund, I will devise a plan to defeat this Opal Koboi.“
Holly was in a hole and she knew it.
There was no doubt that Artemis could give her the edge over Opal, but it galled her to pay someone who used to be a friend. “And what if Koboi defeats us?”
‘If Koboi defeats and presumably murders us both, then you can consider the debt null and void.“
‘Great,“ growled Holly. ”It would almost be worth it.“
She left the window and began raiding the pod’s medical chest. “You know something, Artemis. You’re exactly how you were when we first met: a greedy Mud Boy who doesn’t care about anyone beside himself. Is that really how you want to be for the rest of your life?”
Artemis’s features remained static, but below the surface his emotions were in turmoil. Of course he was right to ask for a fee. It would be stupid not to.
But even asking had made him feel guilty. It was this idiotic newfound conscience. His mother seemed to be able to activate it at will, and this fairy creature could do it too. He would have to keep a tighter check on his emotions.
Holly finished raiding the cabinet. “Well, Mister Consultant, what’s our first move?”
Artemis did not hesitate. “There are only two of us, and we are not very tall. We need reinforcements. As we speak, Butler will be making for Fowl Manor. He may be there already.”
Artemis turned on his Cell Phone and speed dialed Butler. A recorded message told him that the customer he was trying to reach was not available.
He declined the offer to try again, instead dialing Fowl Manor. An answering machine cut in after the third ring. Obviously his parents had already left for the spa in Westmeath.
‘Butler,“ said Artemis to the recorder. ”You are well, I hope. I myself am fine. Listen very carefully to what I have to tell you, and believe me, every word is true…“ Artemis proceeded to summarize the day’s events. ”We will arrive at the manor shortly. I suggest we stock up on essentials and proceed to a safe house…“
Holly tapped him on the shoulder. “We should get out of here. Koboi is no fool. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had some backup plan in case we survived.”
Artemis covered the mouthpiece with his palm. “I agree. That is what I would do. This Koboi person is probably on her way right now.”Grassland Fence
As if on cue, one of the pod walls fizzled and dissolved. Opal Koboi stood in the hole, flanked by Merv and Scant Brill. The pixie twins were armed with transparent plastic handguns. Merv’s gun barrel glowed gently in the aftermath of his wall-melting shot.
‘Murderer!“ shouted Holly, reaching for her gun.
Merv casually put a blast close enough to her head to singe her eyebrows. Holly froze, raising her hands in submission.
‘Opal Koboi, I presume?“ said Artemis; although, if Holly had not told him the whole story, he never would have guessed that the female before him was anything but a human child. Her black hair was braided down her back, and she wore a checked pinafore of the type worn by a million schoolgirls around the world. Her ears were, of course, rounded.
‘Artemis Fowl, how nice to see you again. I do believe that in different circumstances we could have been allies.“
‘Circumstances change,“ said Artemis. ”Perhaps we can still be allies.“
Holly chose to give Artemis the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was acting like a traitor to save their skins. Maybe.
Opal fluttered her long, curved eyelashes. “Tempting, but no. I feel the world is only large enough for one child genius. And now that I’m pretending to be a child, that genius would be me. Meet Belinda Zito, a girl with big plans.“
Holly reached a hand toward her weapon, but stopped when Merv leveled his transparent handgun at her.
‘I know you,“ she said to the Brill brothers. ”The Pixie twins. You were on TV.“
Scant couldn’t hold back a grin. “Yes, on Canto. It was the season’s highest-rated show. We’re thinking of writing a book, aren’t we, Merv? All about how we…“
‘Finish each other’s sentences,“ completed Merv, though he knew it would cost him.
‘Shut up, you utter imbecile,“ snapped Opal, shooting Merv a poisonous glare.
‘Keep your weapon up and your mouth closed. This is not about you; it is about me. Remember that and I might not have to liquidize the pair of you.“
‘Yes, of course, Miss Koboi. It’s all about you.“
Opal almost purred. “That’s right. It’s always about me. I am the only important one here.”
Artemis casually slipped one hand into his pocket. The one holding the Cell Phone that was still connected to Fowl Manor.
‘If I may, Miss Koboi. This delusion of self-importance is common among those recently awakened from comas. It is known as the Narcissus Syndrome. I wrote a paper on this precise subject for the Psychologists Yearbook, under the pseudonym Sir E. Brum. You have spent so much time in your own company, so to speak, that everyone else has become unreal…“
Opal nodded at Merv. “For heaven’s sake, shut him up.”
Merv was glad to oblige, sinking a blue power slug into Artemis’s chest. The Irish boy dropped in mid lecture.Grassland Fence
‘What have you done?“ shouted Holly, dropping to Artemis’s side. She was relieved to find a steady heartbeat under the bloodied shirt.
‘Oh no,“ said Opal. ”Not dead, merely painfully stunned. He is having quite a day, young Artemis.“
Holly’s pretty features were distorted by grief and outrage as she glared at the small pixie. “What do you want from us? What else can you do?”
Opal’s face was the picture of innocence.
‘Don’t blame me. You have brought this on yourself.
All I wanted to do was bring down fairy society as we know it, but oh no, you wouldn’t have it. Then I planned a couple of relatively simple assassinations, but you insisted on surviving. Kudos to you for evading the bio-bomb, by the way. I was watching the whole thing from sixty-five feet up in my stealth shuttle. Containing the solinium with an LEP helmet. Good thinking. But now, because you have caused me so much trouble and exasperation, I think I will indulge myself a little.“
Holly swallowed the fear that was crawling up her throat. “Indulge yourself?”
‘Oh yes. I had a nasty little scenario planned for Foaly-something theatrical involving the Eleven Wonders. But now I have decided that you are worthy of it.“
Holly tensed herself. She should go for her gun, there was no other option. But she had to ask; it was fairy nature: “How nasty?”
Opal smiled, and evil was the only word for that expression. “Troll nasty,” she said. “And one more thing. I am telling you this because you are about to die, and I want you to hate me at the moment of your death as much as I hate you.” Opal paused, allowing the tension to build. “Do you remember the sweet spot on the bomb I strapped to Julius?”
Holly felt as though her heart had expanded to fill her entire chest. “I remember.”
Opal’s eyes flared. “Well, there wasn’t one.”
Holly went for her gun, and Merv hit her in the chest with a blue charge. She was asleep before she hit the ground.Grassland Fence