The Artemis Fowl Files (Artemis Fowl 0.50)

CHAPTER 1: ALONG CAME A SPIDER

Sydney Harbor, Australia

“THE thing about pain, Major Evergreen,” said the old elf, laying a small wooden case on the table, “is that it hurts.”

Evergreen was still too groggy for jokes. Whatever the stranger had put in the dart was taking its time leaving his system. “What are you … ? Why am I … ?” Full sentences wouldn’t come. He couldn’t pluck one from his addled brain.

“Quiet, Major,” advised his captor. “Don’t fight the serum. You will make yourself ill.”

“Serum?” gasped the major.

“A very personal concoction. Since I don’t have my magic any more, I have had to rely on nature’s gifts. This particular serum is concocted from equal parts ground ping-ping flower and cobra venom. Not lethal in small doses, but quite an effective sedative.”

Fear was piercing the LEP officer’s daze now, like a hot poker through snow. “Who are you?”

A child’s scowl twisted the stranger’s ancient face.

“You may address me as Captain. Don’t you know me, Major? From before today? Cast your mind back to your first years in the LEP. Centuries ago, I know, but try. The fairy People often think that they can forget me completely. But I’m never far away, not really.”

The major wanted to say, Yes, I know you, but something told him that lying would be even more dangerous than telling the truth. And the truth was that he couldn’t remember seeing this old elf before in his life. Not until today, when he had assaulted him on the docks. Evergreen had tracked a runaway-gnome signal to this hut, and the next thing he knew this old elf had stung him with a syringe gun and was asking to be addressed as Captain. And now Evergreen was tied to a chair, being given a lecture about pain.

The old elf flipped two brass clasps on his case and lifted the lid reverentially. Major Evergreen caught a glimpse of a velvet lining. Red as blood.

“Now, my boy, I need information. Information only an LEP major would know.” The captain lifted a leather pouch from the box. There was another box of some kind inside the bag, its edges pressing into the leather.

Evergreen’s breath came in short gasps. “I’ll tell you nothing.”

The old elf undid the bag’s leather tie with one hand. The box shone from inside the bag, casting a sickly glow on the old elf’s pallor. The wrinkles around his eyes were thrown into deep shadow. The eyes themselves were feverish.

“Now, Major. The moment of truth. Question time.”

“Do yourself a favor and close the bag, Captain,” said Major Evergreen, with more bravado than he felt. “I am LEP: you can’t harm me and hope to escape.”

The captain sighed. “I cannot close the bag. What is inside yearns to come out, to be free and do its work. And don’t think anyone is coming to save you. I have jacked into your helmet and sent a malfunction message. Police Plaza thinks your communications are on the blink. They won’t be worried for hours.”

The old elf pulled a steel object from the leather bag. The object was a mesh cage, and inside was a tiny silver spider with claws so sharp, the tips seemed to disappear. He held up the cage before Evergreen’s nose. Inside, the spider slashed its claws in a starving frenzy, an inch from the major’s nose.

“Sharp enough to cut air,” said the captain. And indeed the claws seemed to leave short-lived rents where they passed.

The mere act of revealing the spider seemed to change the old elf. He had power now and seemed taller. Twin red dots sparked in his eyes though there was no light source in the hut. The ruffles of an old-style LEP dress uniform poked from beneath his overcoat.

“Now, my young elf, I will ask but once. Answer promptly or bear my wrath.”

Major Evergreen shivered from fear and cold, but he kept his mouth tightly closed.

The captain caressed the major’s chin with his cage. “Now, here is your question: where is Commander Root’s next Recon initiation site?”

The major blinked sweat from his eyes. “Initiation site? Honestly, Captain, I don’t know. I’m new on the squad.”

The captain held the cage even closer to Evergreen’s face. The silver spider lunged forward, clawing the major’s cheek.

“Julius’s site!” roared the captain. “Out with it!”

“No,” said the major through gritted teeth. “You will not break me.”

The captain’s voice grew shrill with madness. “Do you see how I live? In the human world, I grow old.”

Poor Major Evergreen steeled himself for death. This entire assignment had been a trap. “Julius robbed me of Haven,” raved the captain. “Evicted me like a common traitor. Exiled me to this foul cesspool of the human world. When he brings the next corporal for initiation, I will be waiting—along with a few old friends. If we cannot have Haven, then we will have our revenge.”

The captain stopped his rant. He had said too much already and time was against him. He must finish this.

“You came here to search for a missing gnome: there was no gnome. We manipulated the satellite images to trap an LEP officer. I have waited two years for Julius to send a major.”

It made sense. Only a major would know the locations of LEP initiations.

“And now that I have you in my clutches, you will tell me what I need to know.”

The elderly elf pinched Major Evergreen’s nose until he was forced to draw breath through his mouth. In a flash the captain jammed the mesh cage between Evergreen’s teeth and flipped the gate. The silver spider was down the young elf’s gullet in a shining blur. The captain tossed the cage to one side. “Now, Major,” he said. “You are dead.”

Evergreen spasmed as the silver spider’s claws went to work on the lining of his stomach.

“That feels bad: internal injuries always hurt the

most,” commented the old elf. “But your magic will heal you for a while. In minutes, however, your power will dry up, and then my little pet will claw her way out.”

Evergreen knew it was true. The spider was a Tunnel Blue. The creature actually used its claws as teeth, pulping its meat before sucking it between its gums. Its favorite method of destruction was from the inside. A nest of these little monsters could take down a troll. One was more than enough to kill an elf.

“I can help you,” said the captain. “If you agree to help me.”

Evergreen gasped in pain. Whenever the spider clawed him, the magic sealed the wound, but already the healing was slowing.

“No. You’ll get nothing from me.”

“Fine. You die, and I will ask the next officer they send. Of course, he may refuse to cooperate too. Ah well, I have plenty of spiders.”

Evergreen tried to think. He had to get out of this alive, to warn the commander. And there was only one way to do that.

“Very well. Kill the spider.”

The captain grabbed Evergreen’s chin. “First, my answer. Where is the next initiation? And do not lie, I will know.”

“The Tern Islands,” moaned the major.

The old elf’s face glowed with demented triumph. “I know them. When?”

Evergreen mumbled the words, shamefacedly. “A week from today.”

The captain clapped his captive on the shoulder. “Well done. You have chosen wisely. No doubt hoping to live through this ordeal and warn my brother.”

Alarm cut through Evergreen’s pain. Brother? This was Commander Root’s brother? He had heard the story; everyone had.

The captain smiled. “Now you know my secret. I am the disgraced Captain Turnball Root. Julius hunted his own brother. And now I shall hunt him.”

Evergreen winced as a dozen tiny gashes were opened in his stomach. “Kill the insect,” he pleaded.

Turnball Root drew a small flask from his pocket. “Oh, very well. But don’t think you’ll be warning anyone. There was an amnesiac in the dart I gave you: in five minutes this entire incident will be a dream floating beyond your grasp.”

Captain Root opened the flask, and Evergreen was relieved to smell the pungent aroma of strong coffee. The Tunnel Blue was a hyperactive, finely tuned creature with a hair-trigger heart. When the coffee entered its bloodstream, it should trigger a fatal heart attack.

Turnball Root poured the scalding brew down Evergreen’s throat. The major gagged, but swallowed it down. After a few seconds, the spider began to thrash in his stomach, then the vicious activity ceased.

Evergreen sighed in relief, then closed his eyes, focusing on what had happened. “Oh, very good,” chuckled Captain Root. “You are trying to reinforce the memories so they can be brought out under hypnosis. I wouldn’t bother. What I gave you wasn’t exactly regulation. You’ll be lucky if you remember what color the sky is.”

Evergreen hung his head. He had betrayed his commander, and all for nothing. In one week’s time, Julius Root would walk into a trap on the Tern Islands. A location that he had revealed.

Turnball did up his overcoat, hiding the uniform below. “Farewell, Major. And thank you for your help. You may find it difficult to concentrate for the next while, but by the time your resolve returns, those straps should have dissolved.”

Captain Root opened the hut door, stepping out into the night. Evergreen watched him go, and a moment later he could not have sworn that the captain had ever been there at all.

CHAPTER 2: SOMETHING FISHY

The Boulevard of Kings, Haven City,

The Lower Elements; One Week Later …

CORPORAL Holly Short was on traffic detail on the Boulevard of Kings. Lower Elements Police officers were supposed to travel in pairs, but there was a league crunchball match being played across the river, so her partner was patrolling the sidelines in Westside Stadium.

Holly strolled down the boulevard, resplendent in her computerized traffic suit. The suit was more or less a walking road sign that could display all the common commands, plus up to eight lines of text, across her chest plate. The suit was also coded to her voice, so if Holly ordered a driver to stop, the command would appear in yellow lights across her chest.

Being a walking road sign was not exactly what Holly had in mind when she had signed up for the Lower Elements Police Academy, but every corporal had to put in a stint in Traffic before he or she was allowed to specialize. Holly had been on the streets for over six months, and sometimes it seemed as though she was never going to get her chance at Reconnaissance. If the brass did give her a shot, and if she did pass the initiation, then she would be the first female ever to make it into Recon. This fact did not daunt Holly Short; in fact, it appealed to her stubborn nature. Not only would she pass the initiation, but she intended to smash the score set by Captain Trouble Kelp.

The boulevard was quiet this afternoon. Everyone was over in Westside enjoying vegetable fries and mushroom burgers. Everyone except her, a few dozen public servants, and the owner of a camper shuttle that was illegally parked across a restaurant’s loading bay. Holly scanned the purple camper’s bar code by running her glove’s sensor across the bumper plate. Seconds later, the LEP central server sent the vehicle’s file to her helmet. It belonged to one E. Phyber, a sprite with a history of traffic violations.

Holly tore back a Velcro strip covering the computer screen on her wrist. She opened the parking-fine program, sending one to Phyber’s account. The fact that giving someone a ticket made her feel good told Holly that it was high time she got out of Traffic.

Something moved inside the camper. Something big. The entire vehicle swayed on its axles.

Holly rapped on the blacked-out windows. “Step out of the vehicle, Mister Phyber.”

There was no reply from inside the camper, just more pronounced swaying. There was something inside. Something a lot bigger than a sprite.

“Mister Phyber. Open up, or I will conduct a search.” Holly tried to peer through the tinted windows, with no luck: her street helmet did not have the filters to penetrate. It felt as though there was some kind of animal in there. This was a serious crime. Transporting animals in a private vehicle was strictly forbidden. Not to mention cruel. The fairy People might eat certain animals, but they certainly did not keep them as pets. If this person was smuggling animals of some kind, it was quite possible that he was buying them direct from the surface.

Holly placed both hands on the side panel, pushing as hard as she could. Immediately the camper began to buck and vibrate, almost tipping over on one rail.

Holly stepped back. She would have to call this in.

“Ah … Is there a problem, Officer?”

There was a sprite hovering beside her. Sprites hover when they are nervous.

“Is this your vehicle, sir?”

The sprite’s wings beat even faster, lifting him another six inches off the sidewalk.

“Yes, Officer. Eloe Phyber. I am the registered owner.” Holly raised her visor. “Please land, sir. Flying is restricted on the boulevard. There are signs.”

Phyber touched down gently. “Of course, Officer. Pardon me.”

Holly studied Phyber’s face for signs of guilt. The sprite’s pale green skin was slick with perspiration.

“Are you worried about something, Mister Phyber?”

Phyber smiled a watery smile. “No. Worried? No, nothing. I’m running a bit late, that’s all. Modern life, you know, always on a timetable.”

The camper bounced on its axles.

“What have you got in there?” asked Holly.

Phyber’s smile froze. “Nothing. Just some flat-packed shelving. One of the units must have fallen over.”

He was lying. Holly was certain of it. “Oh really? There must be quite a few units in there, because that’s the fifth one that’s fallen over. Open it up, please.”

The sprite’s wings began pumping up. “I don’t think I have to. Don’t you need a warrant?”

>

“No. I need probable cause. And I have reason to believe that you are illegally transporting animals.”

“Animals? Ridiculous. Anyway, I can’t open the camper, I appear to have lost the chip.”

Holly drew an omnitool from her belt, placing the sensor against the camper’s rear door. “Very well. Be advised that I am opening this vehicle to investigate the possible presence of animals.”

“Shouldn’t we wait for a lawyer?”

“No. The animals could die of old age.”

Phyber moved back a yard. “I really wouldn’t do that.”

“No. I’m sure you wouldn’t.”

The omnitool beeped, and the rear door swung open. Holly was confronted by a huge, wobbling cube of orange jelly. It was hydrogel, used to safely transport injured sea life. The creatures could still breathe, but were spared travel bumps. A shoal of mackerel was struggling to swim inside the lined interior of the camper. They were no doubt destined for an illegal fish restaurant.

The gel might have held its shape if the shoal hadn’t decided to head for the light. Their combined efforts dragged the cuboid of gel out of the camper and into thin air. Gravity took hold and the blob exploded all over Holly. She was instantly submerged in a tidal wave of fish and fish-flavored gel. The gel found holes in her uniform that she had never known were there.

“D’Arvit!” swore Holly, falling on her backside. Unfortunately this was the moment that her suit shorted out, and a call came through from Police Plaza informing her that Commander Julius Root wanted to see her immediately.

Police Plaza, the Lower Elements

Holly dropped Phyber off at the booking desk, then darted straight across the courtyard to Julius Root’s office. If the LEPrecon commander wanted to see her, she had no intention of keeping him waiting. This could be her initiation. At last.

There were already people in the office. Holly could see bobbing heads through the frosted glass. “Corporal Short to see Commander Root,” she said breathlessly to the secretary.

The secretary, a middle-aged pixie with an outrageous pink perm, glanced up briefly, then stopped work completely, giving Holly her undivided attention. “You want to go in to the commander looking like that?”