The Arctic Incident (Artemis Fowl 2)

Artemis stepped onto the surface, picking his way through the jagged stones and construction debris abandoned by Mulch and his cousin a century earlier. The cavern was lit by the starlike twinkle of rock phosphorescence.

“This place is a geological marvel,” he exclaimed. “The pressure at this depth should be crushing us, but it isn’t.”

He knelt to examine a fungus sprouting from a rusting paint tin.

“There’s even life.”

Mulch wrenched the remains of a hammer from between two rocks.

“So that’s where this got to. We overdid it a bit on the explosives, blasting the shaft for these columns. Some of our waste must have . . . fallen down here.”

Holly was appalled. Pollution is an abomination to the People.

“You’ve broken so many laws here, Mulch, I don’t even have the fingers to count them. When you get that two-day head start, you’d better move fast, because I’m going to be the one chasing you.”

“Here we are,” said Mulch, ignoring the threat. When you’d heard as many as he had, they just rolled right off.

There was a hole bored into one of the columns. Mulch rubbed the edges fondly.

“Diamond laser cutter. Little nuclear battery. That baby could cut through anything.”

“I remember that cutter too,” said Root. “You nearly decapitated me with it once.”

Mulch sighed. “Happy days, eh, Julius?”

Root’s reply was a swift kick in the behind.

“Less talk, more eating dirt, convict.”

Holly placed her hand into the hole.

“Air currents. The pressure field from the city must have equalized this cave over the years. That’s why we’re not flat as manta rays right now.”

“I see,” said Butler and Root simultaneously. Another lie for the list.

Mulch undid his back flap.

“I’ll tunnel up to the top and wait for you there. Clear as much of the debris as you can. I’ll spread the recycled mud around, to avoid closing up the shaft.”

Artemis groaned. The idea of crawling through Mulch’s recyclings was almost intolerable. Only the thought of his father kept him going.

Mulch stepped into the shaft. “Stand back,” he warned, unhinging his jaw.

Butler moved quickly, he was not about to get nailed by dwarf gas again.

Mulch disappeared up to his waist in the titanium column. In moments he had disappeared entirely. The pipe began to shudder with strange, unappetizing sounds. Chunks of clay clattered against the metal walls. A constant stream of condensed air and debris spiraled from the hole.

“Amazing,” breathed Artemis. “What I could do with ten like him. Fort Knox would be a pushover.”

“Don’t even think about it,” warned Root. He turned to Butler. “What have we got?”

The manservant drew his pistol.

“This is it. I’ll take the gun, since I’m the only one who can lift it. You two pick up whatever you can on the run.”

“And what about me?” asked Artemis, even though he knew what was coming.

Butler looked his master straight in the eye.

“I want you to stay here. This is a military operation. All you can do is get yourself killed.”

“But ...”

“My job is to protect you, Artemis, and this is quite possibly the safest spot on the planet.”

Artemis didn’t argue. In truth, these facts had already occurred to him. Sometimes being a genius was a burden.

“Very well, Butler. I shall remain here. Unless . . .”

Butler’s eyes narrowed. “Unless what?”

Artemis smiled his dangerous smile. “Unless I have an idea.”

Police Plaza

In Police Plaza the situation was desperate. Captain Kelp had pulled the remaining forces into a circle behind overturned workstations. The goblins were taking potshots through the doorway, and none of the warlocks had a drop of magic left in them. Anyone who got injured from now on would stay injured.

The Council were huddled behind a wall of troops, all except Wing Commander Vinyáya, who had demanded to be given one of the electronic rifles. She hadn’t missed yet.

The techs were crouched behind their desks, trying every code combination in the book to gain access to the Operations Booth. Trouble didn’t hold out much hope on that front. If Foaly locked a door, then it stayed locked.

Meanwhile, inside the booth all the centaur could do was pound his fists in frustration. It was a sign of Cudgeon’s cruelty that he allowed Foaly to view the battle beyond the blast windows.

It seemed hopeless. Even if Julius and Holly had received his message, it was too late now to do anything. Foaly’s lips and throat were dry. Everything had deserted him. His computer, his intellect, his glib sarcasm. Everything.

Below Koboi Labs

Something wet slapped Butler in the head.

“What was that?” he hissed at Holly, who was bringing up the rear.

“Don’t ask,” croaked Captain Short. Even through her helmet filters, the smell was foul.

The contents of the column had had a century to ferment, and smelled as toxic as the day they went in. Probably worse. At least, thought the bodyguard, I don’t have to eat this stuff.

Root was in the lead, his helmet lights cutting swathes through the darkness. The pillar was on a forty-degree angle with regular grooves that were intended to anchor the titanium block filling.

Mulch had done a sterling job of breaking down the pipe’s contents. But the recycling had to go somewhere. Mulch, in fairness to him, chewed every mouthful thoroughly to avoid too many lumps.

The raiding party struggled on grimly, trying not to think about what they were actually doing. By the time they caught up with the dwarf, he was clinging to a ridge, face constricted in pain.

“What is it, Mulch?” asked Root, concern accidentally slipping into his tones.

“Geddup,” Mulch groaned. “Geddup rih now.”

Root’s eyes widened with something approaching panic.

“Up!” he hissed. “Everybody up!”

They scrambled into the tight wedge of space above the dwarf. Not a second too soon. Mulch relaxed, releasing a burst of dwarf gas that could have inflated a circus tent. He rehinged his jaw.

“That’s better,” he sighed. “Lotta air in that soil. Now would you mind getting that beam out of my face. You know how I feel about light.”

The commander obliged, switching to infrared.

“Okay, now we’re up here. How do we get out? You didn’t bring your cutter, I seem to remember.”

The dwarf grinned. “No problem. A good thief always plans on a return visit. See here.”

Mulch was pointing to a patch of titanium that seemed exactly like the rest of the pipe. “I patched this up last time. It’s just flexi-bond.”

Root had to smile. “You are a cunning reprobate. How did we ever catch you?”

“Luck,” replied the dwarf, elbowing a section of the pipe. A large circle popped out, revealing the hundred-year-old hole. “Welcome to Koboi Labs.”

They clambered into a dimly lit corridor. Loaded hover trolleys were stacked four deep around the walls. Strip lighting operated at minimum illumination overhead.

“I know this place,” noted Root. “I’ve been here before on inspection for the special weapons permits. We’re two corridors across from the computer center. We have a real chance of making it.”

“What about these DNA stun cannons?” inquired Butler.

“Tricky,” admitted the commander. “If the cannon’s onboard computer doesn’t recognize you, you’re dead. They can be programmed to reject entire species.”

“Tricky,” agreed the manservant.

“I’m betting they’re not active,” continued Root. “First, if this place is crawling with goblins, they hardly came in through the front door. And second, if Foaly is being blamed for this little uprising, Koboi will want to pretend they had no weapons, just like

the LEP.”

“Strategy?” asked Butler.

“Not much,” admitted the commander. “Once we turn the corner, we’re on camera. So down the corridor as fast as you can, hit anything that gets in your way. If it has a weapon, confiscate it. Mulch, you stay here and widen the tunnel, we may need to get out fast. Ready?”

Holly extended a hand.

“Gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure.”

The commander and manservant laid their hands on hers.

“Likewise.”

They headed down the corridor. Two hundred goblins versus our virtually unarmed three heroes. It was going to be close.

Koboi Labs, Inner Sanctum

“Intruders,” squealed Opal Koboi delightedly. “Inside the building.”

Cudgeon crossed to the surveillance plasma screen.

“I do believe it’s Julius. Amazing. Obviously your hit team leader was exaggerating, General Sputa.”

Sputa licked his eyeballs furiously. Lieutenant Nyal would be losing his skin before shedding season.

Cudgeon whispered into Opal’s ear.

“Can we activate the DNA cannons?”

The pixie shook her head. “Not immediately. They’ve been reprogrammed to reject goblin DNA. It would take a few minutes.”

Cudgeon turned to the four goblin generals. “Have an armored squad come up behind, and another one from the flank. We can trap them at the door. There will be no way out.”