The Time Paradox (Artemis Fowl 6)

“What have you done, Artemis?”

Ah, thought Artemis. Suddenly you can pronounce my name.

“I have done nothing, Damon. I delivered the lemur, you lost him. The problems here are all yours.”

Kronski was livid; he tore off his glasses to reveal red-rimmed eyes. “You have tricked me, Fowl. Somehow you are a participant in this. I cannot host an Extinctionist conference without a strong opening. The execution of that lemur was my big ‘Hello, everyone.’”

Artemis’s phone beeped, and he glanced at the screen. A brief text from Butler.

Mission accomplished.

He pocketed the cell phone and smiled broadly at Kronski.

“A strong opening. I may be able to help you with that. For a price, naturally.”

Artemis the elder sat in the cham-pod watching events unfurling below. Everything had gone exactly to plan, with the exception of the dye vats, which actually exceeded Artemis’s expectations.

Butler’s view is completely blocked, he thought. And then he froze suddenly. Of course! I wouldn’t have placed Butler in that window at all. I would have put a decoy there, as it is one of the five logical places for a sniper to set up. In fact, I would have put a decoy in all five spots and then had Butler hide himself somewhere on the souk floor, ready to step in if those pesky lemur-nappers showed up again, which they very well could, as they seem to know my every move. I, Artemis Fowl, have been bamboozled by myself.

Suddenly, a horrifying thought struck him.

“Holly!” he shouted into the microphone pad adhered to his thumb. “Abort! Abort!”

“What . . .” came the crackly response. “The noise . . . I think . . . damaged.”

Then a few seconds of white noise, sharp snaps, and silence.

It was too late. Artemis could only press his face against the screen and watch helplessly as one of the leatherworkers shrugged off his shoulder blanket and straightened, revealing himself to be far taller than he had previously appeared. It was, of course, Butler, with a handheld infrared scanner extended before him.

Butler. Don’t do it, old friend. I know you were never comfortable with my schemes.

In three quick strides the bodyguard moved to Holly’s vat and netted the elf in his blanket. She struggled and fought, but never had a chance against Butler’s formidable strength. In ten seconds Holly was hog-tied and hoisted over the bodyguard’s shoulder. In five more seconds Butler was out of the gate and lost in the gathering crowds of the medina.

It all happened so quickly that Artemis’s jaw did not have time to drop. One moment he was in control, enjoying the smugness that comes with being the smartest person in the metaphorical room. The next he was crashing back to earth, having sacrificed his queen for a rook, realizing he was up against somebody just as smart as he was, only twice as ruthless.

He felt the pallor of desperation creep across his forehead, leaving pins and needles in its wake.

They have Holly. The Extinctionists will put her on trial on charges of breathing human air.

A thought occurred to him: Every defendant is entitled to a good lawyer.

CHAPTER 12

GONE FOREVER

La Domaine des Hommes, Extinctionists’ Compound, Fez

Artemis the younger agreed to accompany Dr. Kronski to his gated compound near the medina. Kronski’s Land Rover was considerably more luxurious than Artemis’s rented model, complete with powerful air-conditioning, water cooler, and white tiger upholstery.

Artemis ran a finger through the fur and was not surprised to find that it was real.

“Nice seats,” he commented drily.

Kronski did not answer. He hadn’t spoken much since losing the lemur, except to mutter to himself, cursing the unfairness of it all. It didn’t seem to bother him that his suit was covered in dye, which was transferring itself to his expensive upholstery.

Though it took barely five minutes to reach the compound, Artemis was glad of the thinking space. By the time the Land Rover was cleared through the reinforced gates, he had any wrinkles in his strategy straightened out, and he’d used the spare two minutes to plot one of the romance novels he occasionally wrote under the pseudonym Violet Tsirblou.

A guard with bulk to match Butler’s waved them through, underneath a walkway arch in the twelve-foot wall. Artemis kept his eyes open on the way in, noting the armed guards patrolling the ten-acre compound, and the position of the generator hut, and the staff quarters.

Information is power.

The residential chalets were built in the style of Californian beach houses, flat roofs, and plenty of glass, clustered around a man-made beach, complete with a wave machine and lifeguard. There was a large conference center in the middle of the compound, with a scaffold-clad spire jutting from its roof. Two men were perched on the scaffolding, putting the finishing touches to a brass icon on the spire’s tip. And even though most of the icon was wrapped in canvas, Artemis could see enough to know what it was. A human arm with the world in its fist. The symbol of the Extinctionists.

Kronski’s driver parked in front of the compound’s grandest chalet, and the doctor led the way inside wordlessly. He flapped a hand toward a hide-covered sofa, and disappeared into his bedroom.

Artemis was hoping for a shower and a change of clothes, but apparently Kronski was too upset for courtesy, so Artemis was forced to tug at the collar of his itchy shirt and wait for his host’s return.

Kronski’s reception lounge was a macabre space. One wall was covered with certificates of extinction, complete with photographs of the unfortunate animals and the dates on which the Extinctionists managed to murder the last one of the particular species.

Artemis browsed the photo wall. Here was a Japanese sea lion and a Yangtze river dolphin. A Guam flying fox and a Bali tiger.

All gone forever.

The only way to see these creatures would be to somehow build up enough momentum to travel faster than the speed of light and go back in time.

There were further horrors in the room, all labeled for educational purposes. The sofa was upholstered with the pelts of Falkland Island wolves. The base of a standing lamp was fashioned from the skull of a western black rhinoceros.

Artemis struggled to maintain his composure.

I need to get out of here as quickly as possible.

But the faint voice of his conscience reminded him that leaving this place would not mean that it no longer existed, and selling the strange creature to Kronski would only draw more people to it.

Artemis conjured a picture of his father in his mind.

Whatever it takes. Whatever I have to do.

Kronski entered the room, showered and wearing a flowing kaftan, his eyes red rimmed as though he’d been crying.

“Sit down, Ah-temis,” he said, gesturing toward the sofa with a hide-bound fly swatter.

Artemis eyed the seat. “No. I think I’ll stand.”

Kronski sank into an office chair. “Oh, I get it. Grown-up sofa. It’s difficult to be taken seriously when your feet don’t touch the ground.”

The doctor rubbed his eyes with stubby thumbs, then donned his trademark glasses.

“You have no idea what it’s been like for me, Ah-temis. Hounded from country to country because of my beliefs, like some common criminal. And now that I have finally found somewhere to call home—now that I have persuaded the committee to meet here—I lose my trial animal. That lemur was the centerpiece of the entire conference.”

Kronski’s voice was steady and he seemed to have recovered himself since his breakdown at the leather souk.

“The Extinctionists’ committee are very powerful men, Ah-temis. They are accustomed to comfort and convenience. Morocco is hardly convenient. I had to build this compound to entice them down here, and promise a big opening to the conference. And now all I have to show is a shining hand.”

Kronski brandished his hand, which was largely slime-free, but it did seem to glow faintly.

“

All is not lost, Doctor,” said Artemis soothingly. “I can provide you with something that will rejuvenate your society and make it globally relevant.”

Kronski’s frown was skeptical, but he leaned forward, arms slightly outstretched.

His face says no, thought Artemis. But his body language says yes.

“What are you selling, Ah-temis?”

Artemis opened the gallery on his phone and selected a photograph.

“This,” he said, passing the phone to Kronski.

The doctor studied the photograph, and the skepticism in his eyes grew more pronounced.

“What is this? Photo manipulation?”

“No. Genuine. This creature is real.”

“Come on, Ah-temis. What we’ve got here is latex and bone implants. Nothing more.”

Artemis nodded. “That’s a fair reaction. So you don’t pay until you’re satisfied.”

“I already paid.”

“You paid for a lemur,” Artemis countered. “This is an undiscovered species. Possibly a threat to mankind. This is what the Extinctionists are all about. Imagine how many members will clamor to donate to your church when you uncover this threat.”