Holly handed Artemis a small cylindrical earpiece. “Ask him yourself.”
Artemis inserted the miracle of nanotechnology.
“Well, Foaly. Astound me.”
Below in Haven City, the centaur rubbed his hands together. Artemis was the only one who actually understood his lectures.
“You’re going to love this, Mud Boy. Not only have I wiped you from the video, not only did I erase the ceiling falling in, but I have created a simulated Artemis.”
Artemis was intrigued. “A sim? Really? How exactly did you do that?”
“Simple really,” said Foaly modestly. “I have hundreds of human movies on file. I borrowed Steve McQueen’s solitary-confinement scene from The Great Escape and altered his clothes.”
“What about the face?”
“I had some digital interrogation footage from your last visit to Haven. I put the two together, and voilà. Our simulated Artemis can do whatever I tell him, whenever I say. At the moment, the sim is asleep, but in half an hour I may just instruct him to go to the bathroom.”
Holly reeled in her piton cord. “The miracle of modern science. The LEP pours millions into your department, Foaly, and all you can do is send Mud Boys to the toilet.”
“You should be nice to me, Holly. I’m doing you a big favor. If Julius knew I was helping you, he’d be extremely angry.”
“Which is exactly why you are doing it.”
Holly moved quietly to the door, opening it a crack. The corridor was clear and silent, but for the drone of panning cameras and the hum of fluorescent lighting. One section of Holly’s visor displayed miniature transparent feeds from Spiro’s security cameras. There were eight guards doing the rounds on the floor.
Holly closed the door.
“Okay. Let’s get going. We need to reach Spiro before the guards change.”
Artemis arranged the carpet over the hole in the floor. “Have you located his apartment?”
“Directly above us. We need to get up there and scan his retina and thumb.”
An expression flashed across Artemis’s face. Just for a second.
“The scans. Yes. The sooner the better.”
Holly had never seen that look on the human boy’s features before. Was it guilt? Could it be?
“Is there something you’re not telling me?” she demanded.
The expression vanished, to be replaced by the customary lack of emotion.
“No, Captain Short. Nothing. And do you really think that now is the time for an interrogation?”
Holly wagged a threatening finger. “Artemis. If you mess with me now, in the middle of an operation, I won’t forget it.”
“Don’t worry,” said Artemis wryly. “I will.”
Spiro’s apartment was directly above Artemis’s cell. It would have made sense to reinforce the same block. Unfortunately, Jon Spiro did not like the idea of anyone spying on him, so there were no cameras in his section of the building.
“Typical,” muttered Foaly. “Power-crazed megalomaniacs never like anyone to see their own dirty secrets.”
“I think someone’s in denial,” said Holly, focusing a tight beam from her Neutrino at the ceiling.
A section of floating ceiling melted like ice in a kettle, revealing the steel above. Molten beads of metal ate into the carpet as the laser sliced through the flooring. When the hole was of sufficient diameter, Holly shut down the beam and popped her helmet camera into the space.
Nothing appeared on the screen.
“Switching to infrared.”
A rack of suits sprang into focus. They might have been white.
“The wardrobe. We’re in the wardrobe.”
“Perfect,” said Foaly. “Put him to sleep.”
“He is asleep. It’s twenty-to-five in the morning.”
“Well, make sure he doesn’t wake up then.”
Holly replaced the camera in its groove. She plucked a silver capsule from her belt and inserted it into the hole.
Foaly supplied the commentary for Artemis.
“The capsule is a Sleeper Deeper, in case you’re wondering.”
“Gaseous?”
“No. Brain waves.”
Artemis was intrigued. “Go on.”
“Basically it scans for brain-wave patterns, then replicates them. Anyone in the vicinity stays in the state they’re in until the capsule dissolves.”
“No trace?”
“None. And no aftereffects. Whatever they’re paying me, it isn’t enough.”
Holly counted off a minute on her visor clock.
“Okay. He’s out, providing he wasn’t awake when the Sleeper Deeper went in. Let’s go.”
Spiro’s bedroom was as white as his suits, except for the charred hole in the wardrobe. Holly and Artemis climbed through onto a white shag carpet. They stepped through the doors of the closet into a room that glowed in the dark. Futuristic furniture: white, of course. White spotlights and white drapes.
Holly took a moment to study a painting that dominated one wall.
“Oh, give me a break,” she said.
The picture was in oils. Completely white. There was a brass plaque beneath. It read, Snow Ghost.
Spiro lay in the center of a huge futon, lost in the dunes of its silk sheets. Holly pulled back the covers, rolling Jon Spiro onto his back. Even in sleep the man’s face was malevolent, as though his dreams were every bit as despicable as his waking thoughts.
“Nice guy,” said Holly, using her thumb to raise Spiro’s left eyelid. Her helmet camera scanned the eye, storing the information on its chip. It would be a simple matter to project the file onto the vault’s scanner and fool the security computer.
The thumb scan would not be so simple. Because the device was a gel scanner, the tiny sensors would be searching for the actual ridges and whorls of Spiro’s thumb. A projection would not do. It had to be 3-D. Artemis had come up with the idea of using a latex memory bandage, standard issue in any LEP first-aid kit—the same latex used to glue the microphone to his throat. All they had to do was wrap
Spiro’s thumb in a bandage for a moment and they would have a mold of the digit. Holly spooled a bandage from her belt, tearing off a six-inch strip.
“It won’t work,” said Artemis.
Holly’s heart sank. This was it. The thing that Artemis hadn’t told her.
“What won’t work?”
“The memory latex. It won’t fool the gel scanner.”
Holly climbed off the futon. “I don’t have time for this, Artemis. We don’t have time for it. The memory latex will make a perfect copy, right down to the last molecule.”
Artemis’s eyes were downcast. “A perfect model, true, but in reverse. Like a photo negative. Ridges where there should be grooves.”
“D’Arvit!” swore Holly. The Mud Boy was right. Of course he was. The scanner would read the latex as a completely different thumbprint. Her cheeks glowed red behind the visor.
“You knew this, Mud Boy. You knew it all along.”
Artemis didn’t bother denying it. “I’m amazed no one else spotted it.”
“So why lie?”
Artemis walked around to the far side of the bed, grasping Spiro’s right hand. “Because there is no way to fool the gel scanner. It has to see the real thumb.”
Holly snorted. “What do you want me to do? Cut it off and take it with us?”
Artemis silence was response enough.
“What? You want me to cut off his thumb? Are you insane?”
Artemis waited patiently for the outburst to pass.
“Listen to me, Captain. It’s only a temporary measure. The thumb can be reattached. True?”
Holly raised her palms. “Just shut up, Artemis. Just close your mouth. And I thought you’d changed. The commander was right. There’s no changing human nature.”
“Four minutes,” persisted Artemis. “We have four minutes to crack the vault and get back. Spiro won’t feel a thing.”
Holly felt as though her helmet were shrinking.
“Artemis, I’ll stun you, so help me.”
“Think, Holly. I had no choice but to lie about my plan. Would you have agreed if I had told you earlier?”
“No. And I’m not agreeing now!”