Artemis spoke quietly but with the commanding tone that had made him a natural leader since the age of ten.
“It’s too late to free Opal. All we can do is save her life. That’s what she planned for all along.”
“Save her life?” objected Trouble. “But we still have…” Commander Kelp checked the countdown clock. “Ten minutes.”
Artemis patted Holly’s shoulder, then stepped away from her. “If fairy bureaucracy is anything like the human kind, you won’t be able to get Opal into a shuttle in that time. What you might be able to do is get her down to the reactor core.”
Kelp had not yet learned the hard way to shut up and let Artemis explain, and so kept asking questions, slowing down the process, wasting valuable seconds.
“Reactor core? What reactor core?”
Artemis raised a finger. “One more question, Commander, and I will be forced to have Butler restrain you.”
Kelp was a breath away from ejecting Artemis or charging him with something, but the situation was critical and if there was a chance that this human could in some way help…
He clenched his fists till his fingers creaked. “Okay. Talk.”
“The Deeps is powered by a natural fission reactor in a uranium ore layer set on a bed of granite similar to the one in Oklo, Gabon,” said Artemis, tugging the facts from his memory. “The People’s Power Company harvests the energy in small pods set into the uranium. These pods are constructed with science and magic to withstand a moderate nuclear blast. This is taught in schools here. Every fairy in the room knows this, correct?”
Everyone nodded. Technically it was correct, as they did know it now.
“If we can place Opal inside the pod before the deadline, then the blast will at least be contained and theoretically, if we pump in enough anti-rad foam, Opal might even retain her physical integrity. Though that is something I would not bet my last gold coin on. Opal, apparently, is prepared to take the risk.”
Trouble was tempted to poke Artemis in the chest but wisely resisted. “You’re saying that all of this is an elaborate escape plan?”
“Of course,” said Artemis. “And not all that elaborate. Opal is forcing you to release her from her cell. The alternative is the utter destruction of Atlantis and every soul in it, which is unthinkable to anyone except Opal herself.”
Foaly had already brought up the prison plans. “The reactor core is less than a hundred yards below Opal’s cell. I’m contacting the warden now.”
Holly knew that Artemis was a genius and that there was no one more qualified to second-guess kidnappers. But still, they had options.
She gazed at the figures onscreen and was chilled by how casual the gnomes seemed, in the light of what they were about to do. They slouched like adolescents, barely glancing at their captive, cocky in their abilities and not even a jot self-conscious about their cartoon-character smart-masks, which “read” their faces and displayed the appropriate emotions in exaggerated cartoon style. Smart-masks were very popular with the karaoke crowd, who could then look like their idols as well as trying to sound like them.
Perhaps they don’t know exactly what’s at stake here, Holly thought suddenly. Perhaps they are as clueless as I was ten seconds ago.
“Can they hear us?” she asked Foaly.
“They can, but we haven’t responded yet. Just press the button.”
This was just an old figure of speech; there was of course no actual button, just a sensor on the touch screen.
“Hold it, Captain!” ordered Trouble.
“I am a trained negotiator, sir,” said Holly, hoping the respect in her tone would get her what she wanted. “And I was once …” She glanced guiltily at Artemis, sorry that she had to play this card. “I was once a hostage myself, so I know how these things go. Let me talk to them.”
Artemis nodded encouragingly, and Holly knew that he understood her tactics.
“Captain Short is correct, Commander,” he said. “Holly is a natural communicator. She even managed to get through to me.”
“Do it,” barked Trouble. “Foaly, you keep trying to reach Atlantis. And assemble the Council; we need to begin evacuating both cities now.”
Though you could not see their real faces, the gnomes’ cartoon expressions were bored now. It was in the slant of their heads and the bend of their knees. Perhaps this whole thing was not as exciting as they hoped it would be. After all, they could not see their audience, and no one had responded to their threats. What had started out as a revolutionary action was now beginning to look like two big gnomes picking on a pixie.
Pip waggled his gun at Kip, and the meaning was clear. Why don’t we just shoot her now?
Holly activated the microphone with a wave of her hand.
“Hello, you there. This is Captain Holly Short of the LEP. Can you hear me?”
The gnomes perked up immediately, and Pip even attempted a whistle, which came through the vox-box as a raspberry.
“Hey, Captain Short. We heard of you. I’ve seen pictures. Not too shabby, Captain.”
Holly bit back a caustic retort. Never force a kidnapper to demonstrate his resolve.
“Thank you, Pip. Should I call you Pip?”
“You, Holly Short, can call me anything and any time you like,” squeaked Pip, and he extended his free hand toward his partner for a knuckle bump.
Holly was incredulous. These two were about to totally incapacitate the entire fairy world, and they were goofing about like two goblins at a fireball party.
“Okay, Pip,” she continued evenly. “What can we do for you today?”
Pip shook his head sorrowfully at Kip. “Why are the pretty ones always stupid?” He turned to the camera. “You know what you can do for us. We told you already. Release Opal Koboi, or the younger model is gonna take a long sleep. And by that I mean, get shot in the head.”
“You need to give us some time to show good faith. Come on, Pip. One more hour? For me?”
Pip scratched his head with the gun barrel, pretending to consider it. “You are cute, Holly. But not that cute. If I give you another hour, you’ll track me down somehow and drop a time-stop on my head. No thanks, Cap. You have ten minutes. If I was you, I would get that cell open or call the undertaker.”
“This kind of thing takes time, Pip,” persisted Holly, repeating the name, forging a bond. “It takes three days to pay a parking fine.”
Pip shrugged. “Not my problem, babe. And you can call me Pip all day and it won’t make us BFFs. It ain’t my real name.”
Artemis deactivated the microphone. “This one is smart, Holly. Don’t play with him, just tell the truth.”
Holly nodded and switched on the mike. “Okay, whatever your name is. Let me give it to you straight. There’s a good chance that if you shoot young Opal, then we’re going to have a series of very big explosions down here. A lot of innocent people will die.”
Pip waved his gun carelessly. “Oh yeah, the quantum laws. We know about that, don’t we, Kip?”
“Quantum laws,” said Kip. “Of course we know about that.”
“And you don’t care that good fairies, gnomes that could be related to you, will die?”
Pip raised his eyebrows so that they jutted over the top of the mask. “You like any of your family, Kip?”
“Ain’t got no family. I’m an orphan.”
“Really? Me too.”
While they bantered, Opal shivered in the dirt, trying to speak through the tape. Foaly would get voice analysis on the muffled mumbles later—if there was a later—but it didn’t take a genius to figure out she was pleading for her life.
“There must be something you need,” said Holly.
“There is one thing,” replied Pip. “Could I get your com-code? I sure would love to hook up for a sim-latte when this is all over. Might be a while, of course, what with Haven City being in ruins.”
Foaly put a text box on the screen. It read: They’re moving Opal now.
Holly fluttered
her eyelids to show she understood, then continued with the negotiation. “Here’s the situation, Pip. We have nine minutes left. You can’t get someone out of Atlantis in nine minutes. It’s not possible. They need to suit up, pressurize, maybe; go through the conduits to open sea. Nine minutes is not long enough.”
Pip’s theatrical responses were getting a little hard to take. “Well then, I guess a lot of people are going swimming. Fission can put a hell of a hole in the shield.”
Holly broke. “Don’t you care about anyone? What’s the going rate for genocide?”
Pip and Kip actually laughed.
“It’s a horrible feeling, impotency, ain’t it?” said Pip. “But there are worse feelings. Drowning, for example.”
“And getting crushed by falling buildings,” added Kip.
Holly banged her tiny fists on the console.
These two are so infuriating.
Pip stepped close to the camera, so that his mask filled the screen. “If I don’t get a call from Opal Koboi in the next few minutes telling me she is in a shuttle on her way to the surface, then I will shoot this pixie. Believe it.”
Foaly rested his head in his hands. “I used to love Pip and Kip,” he said.