“We got what we got,” repeated Artemis, following Holly’s progress down the steps and across the courtyard with the infrared filter. “Terrible grammar.”
* * *
Ten-year-old Artemis felt as though he had been dipped in a jar of honey and left to bake on the surface of the sun. His garments had molded themselves to his skin, and a tornado of flies revolved around his head. Artemis’s throat was sandpaper dry, and he could hear his breath and pulse as though he were wearing a helmet.
And the stench. The stench was a hot wind gusting in his nose and eyes.
I must persevere, he thought with a focused determination beyond his years. Father needs me. Also, I refuse to be cowed by this odious man.
The souk was a confusing kaleidoscope of pumping limbs, splashing dye, and evening shadows. And from Artemis’s point of view, things were even more confusing. Elbows flashed past, urns rang like bells, and the air was shattered by sharp bolts of French and Arabic above his head.
Artemis allowed himself a moment to meditate. He closed his eyes and took shallow breaths through his mouth.
Very well, he thought. To business, Dr. Kronski.
Luckily the doctor was enormous, and as Artemis made his way through the souk, he quickly spotted Kronski on the opposite diagonal.
Look at that poser. A camouflage suit! Does he honestly believe himself a general in some war against the animal kingdom?
Artemis himself drew surprised stares from the locals. Tourists were not unusual in the souk, but lone ten-year-old boys in formal suits, carrying monkey cages, were rare in any part of the world.
It is a simple matter. Walk to the center and set down the cage.
But even walking through the souk was not simple. Workers bustled through the lanes between vats, laden with dozens of sopping hides. Strings of dye flew through the air, striping the clothes of tourists and other workers. Artemis was forced to tread carefully and give way several times before he eventually reached the small clearing at the center.
Kronski was there before him, perched on the tiny stool that folded out from the top of his hunting cane, puffing on a thin cigar.
“Apparently I’m missing out on half the experience,” he said, as though they were simply continuing a conversation. “The best part of a cigar is the aroma, and I can’t smell a thing.”
Artemis was silently infuriated. The man looked completely comfortable, with barely a drop of sweat on his brow. He forced himself to smile.
“Do you have the money, Damon?” At least he could annoy the good doctor by neglecting his title.
Kronski did not seem annoyed. “Got it right here, Ahtemis,” he said, patting his breast pocket. “A hundred thousand is such a trifling amount, I managed to stuff every last note into my suit pocket.”
Artemis could not resist a jibe. “And what a lovely suit it is.”
Kronski’s violet-colored glasses flashed in the last rays of the sun. “Unlike your own, my boy, which appears to be losing its character in this heat.”
It was true, Artemis felt that the only thing holding him upright was the dried sweat on his spine. He was hungry, tired, and irritable.
Focus. The end justifies the sacrifices.
“Well, obviously I have the lemur, so can we please proceed.”
Kronski’s fingers twitched, and Artemis could guess what he was thinking: Take the lemur from the boy. Just grab it. No need to part with the hundred thousand.
Artemis decided to nip this kind of thinking in the bud. “In case you’re entertaining any rash notions of reneging on our agreement, let me just say one word to you: Butler.”
One word was enough. Kronski knew Butler’s reputation but not his whereabouts. His fingers twitched once more, and then were still.
“Very well, Ah-temis. Let’s get this business over with. I’m sure you appreciate that I need to inspect the merchandise.”
“Of course. And I’m sure that you appreciate that I will need to see a sample of your currency.”
“Why, of course.” Kronski wiggled his hand into a pocket and withdrew a fat envelope brimming with purple five hundred euro notes. He carelessly selected one and passed it across to Artemis.
“Gonna smell it, are you, Ah-temis?”
“Not exactly.” Artemis flipped open his cell phone and selected a UV and magnetic currency scanner from its augmented menu. He passed the note in front on the purple light, checking for the watermark and metal strip.
Kronski pressed a hand to his heart. “I am wounded, boy, injured, that you think I would cheat you. Why, it would cost more than a hundred thousand to forge a hundred thousand. A good set of plates cost twice that.”
Artemis closed the phone. “I am not a trusting person, Damon. You’ll learn that about me.” He placed the cage on the stone plinth. “Now, your turn.”
In that moment, Kronski’s entire attitude changed. His offhand nature vanished, to be replaced with a giddiness. He smiled and tittered, tiptoeing to the cage like a child to a Christmas tree.
Perhaps a normal child, thought Artemis sourly. Christmas morning held no surprises for me, thanks to the X-ray scanner on my cell phone.
Obviously the prospect of extinguishing the life’s spark of another species excited Kronski hugely. He leaned over the cage daintily, squinting through the airholes.
“Yes, yes. All appears to be in order. But I will need to take a closer look.”
“A hundred thousand euros buys you all the closer looks you need.”
Kronski tossed the envelope to Artemis. “Oh, take it, you tiresome boy. You really distress me, Ah-temis. A boy like you can’t have many friends.”
“I’ve got one friend,” retorted Artemis, pocketing the money. “And he’s bigger than you.”
Kronski opened the box just enough to grab the lemur by the scruff of the neck. He hoisted the animal aloft like a trophy, checking him from all angles.
Artemis took a step back, casting suspicious glances around the souk.
Perhaps nothing is going to happen, he thought. Perhaps those creatures were not as resourceful as I believed. I may have to be content with the hundred thousand for now.
And then the resourceful creatures arrived.
Holly did not have wings to fly, but that did not mean she couldn’t cause havoc. There had been no weapons in the LEP lockup beyond the single Neutrino, but there had been some mining equipment, including a few dozen blaster buttons, which Holly was now sprinkling into the unattended dye vats around the souk, with a double helping underneath Butler’s window.
Though she was invisible, Holly took extra care with her movements, as shielding without a suit was wild magic indeed. Any sudden gestures or collisions could cause her body to vent magical fireworks, which would look strange igniting out of thin air.
So—softly, softly was the way to move.
Holly dropped the last of the buttons, feeling totally vulnerable in spite of her invisibility.
I miss Foaly’s guidance, she thought. It’s nice to have an all-seeing eye.
As if he could read her mind, Artemis’s voice came from the mike-bud in her ear. Another gift from the lockup.
“Kronski is opening the cage. Get ready to blow the buttons.”
“All set. I’m at the northwest corner if Jayjay tries to run.”
“I see you on the filter. Detonate at will.”
Holly cl
imbed into an empty vat and fixed her gaze on Kronski. He had the lemur out now, holding it away from his body. Perfect.
She ran a finger along the small strip in her hand until all the tiny lights had turned green. A one word message scrolled across the strip: Detonate?
Absolutely, thought Holly, and pressed the YES box.
A vat blew, sending a column of red dye shooting twenty feet into the air. Several more vats quickly followed suit, thumping like mortars, hurling their contents into the Moroccan sky.
A symphony of color, thought Artemis from his perch. Butler’s view is totally obscured.
Below in the souk, pandemonium was instantaneous. The leather workers roared and shouted, oohing like spectators at a fireworks show as each new colored fountain erupted. Some realized that their precious leathers were being coated with the wrong hues and began to feverishly gather their wares and tools. Within seconds it was raining gouts of dye, and the spaces between the vats were thronged with frantic workers and spooked tourists.
Young Artemis stood stock still, ignoring the flying dye, his gaze fixed on Damon Kronski and the lemur in his fist.
Watch the animal. They want the animal.
Kronski squealed with each explosion, balancing on a single leg like a scared ballet dancer.
Priceless, thought Artemis, and shot a few seconds of video on his phone. Something else was about to happen, he felt sure of it.
And he was right. Artemis had a vague impression that the earth exploded in front of Kronski’s feet. Mud mushroomed upward, something moved in the curtain of earth, and then the lemur was gone.
Dr. Kronski was left holding a blob of slime, which glowed slightly in the evening shadows.
The last drops of dye fell, and slowly the chaos retreated. The leatherworkers shook their heads in wonder, then began to curse their luck. A day’s profit gone.
Kronski squealed for several seconds after the dust had cleared, holding the note like an opera singer.
Artemis grinned nastily. “It isn’t over until the fat lady sings, so I suppose it’s over.”
The doctor was snapped out of it by Artemis’s tone. He composed himself, standing on two feet and breathing deeply as the red spots retreated from his cheeks. It was not until he tried to wipe the gunk from his hand that he realized the lemur was no longer in his grasp. As he stared in disbelief at his fingers, Kronski felt the stuff coating his fingers harden into a glowing gauntlet.