“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? 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. 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.
“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.
“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?”
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.