The Arctic Incident (Artemis Fowl 2)

The human couldn’t have detected her presence. Not possible. Yet something made him pause. He stopped and sniffed the air. The Mud Man was like a dog. No, not a dog, a wolf.

Holly focused her helmet lens on the weapon, sending a photo to her computer database. Moments later a hi-res rotating 3-D image of the gun appeared in the corner of her visor.

“Sig Sauer,” said a recorded byte of Foaly’s voice. “Nine millimeter. Big bullets. One of these hits you and even magic can’t fix it. Other than that you should be all right, presuming you remembered to wear the regulation above-ground microfiber jumpsuit recently patented by me. Then again, being a Recon jock, you probably didn’t.”

Holly scowled. Foaly was all the more annoying when he was right. She had jumped on the first available shuttle without even bothering to change into an above-ground suit.

Holly’s eyes were level with Butler’s now, yet still more than three feet from the ground. She released the visor seals, wincing at the pneumatic hiss.

Butler heard the escaping gas and swung toward the source.

“Fairy,” he said. “I know you’re there. Unshield or I start shooting.”

This was not exactly the tactical advantage Holly had in mind. Her visor was up, and the manservant’s finger was creaking on his pistol’s hair trigger. She took a deep breath and shut down her shield.

“Hello, Butler,” she said evenly.

Butler cocked his weapon. “Hello, Captain. Come down slowly, and don’t try any of your . . .”

“Put your gun away,” said Holly, her voice layered with the hypnotic mesmer.

Butler fought it, his gun barrel shaking erratically.

“Put it down, Butler. Don’t make me fry your brain.”

A vein pulsed in Butler’s eyelid.

Unusual, thought Holly. I’ve never seen that before.

“Don’t fight me, Mud Man. Give in to it.”

Butler opened his mouth to speak. To warn Artemis. She pushed harder, the magic cascading around the human’s head.

“I said, put it down!”

A bead of sweat ran down the bodyguard’s cheek.

“PUT IT DOWN!”

And Butler did, gradually and grudgingly.

Holly smiled. “Good, Mud Man. Now back up to the car, and act as though nothing’s wrong.”

The manservant’s legs obeyed, ignoring the signals from his own brain.

Holly buzzed up her shield. She was going to enjoy this.

Artemis was composing an e-mail on his laptop.

Dear Dr. Guiney,

Because of your counselor’s tactless interrogation of my little Arty, I have taken him out of school for a course of therapy sessions with real professionals in the Mont Gaspard Clinic in Switzerland. I am considering legal action. Do not attempt to contact me, as that would only serve to irritate me further, and when irritated I generally call my attorneys.

Sincerely, Angeline Fowl

Artemis sent the message, allowing himself the luxury of a small grin. It would be nice to watch Principal Guiney’s expression when he read the electronic letter. Unfortunately the button camera he’d planted in the headmaster’s office could only be accessed within a one-mile radius.

Butler opened the driver’s door, and after a moment slipped into the seat. Artemis folded the phone into its wallet. “Captain Short, I presume. Why don’t you stop vibrating, and settle into the visible spectrum?” Holly speckled into view. There was a gleaming gun in her hand. “Really, Holly, is that necessary?” Holly snorted. “Well, let’s see. Kidnapping, actual bodily harm, extortion, conspiracy to commit murder. I’d say it’s necessary.” “Please, Captain Short,” smiled Artemis. “I was young and selfish. Believe it or not, I do harbor some doubts over that particular venture.”

“Not enough doubts to return the gold?”

“No,” admitted Artemis. “Not quite.”

“How did you know I was here?”

Artemis steepled his fingers. “There were several clues. One, Butler did not conduct his usual bomb check under the car. Two, he returned without the items he went to fetch. Three, the door was open for several seconds, something no good security man would permit. And four, I detected a slight haze as you entered the vehicle. Elementary, really.”

Holly scowled. “Observant little Mud Boy, aren’t you?”

“I try. Now, Captain Short, if you would be so kind as to tell me why you are here.”

“As if you don’t know.”

Artemis thought for a moment. “Interesting. I would guess that something has happened. Obviously something that I am being held responsible for.” He raised an eyebrow fractionally. An intense expression of emotion for Artemis Fowl. “There are humans trading with the People.”

“Very impressive,” said Holly. “Or it would be, if we didn’t both know that you’re behind it. And if we can’t get the truth out of you, I’m sure your computer files will prove most revealing.”

Artemis closed the laptop’s lid. “Captain. I realize there is no love lost between us, but I don’t have time for this now. It is imperative that you give me a few days to sort out my affairs.”

“No can do, Fowl. There are a few people underground who would like a word.”

Artemis shrugged. “I suppose, after what I did, I can’t really expect any consideration.”

“That’s right. You can’t.”

“Well then,” sighed Artemis. “I don’t suppose I have a choice.”

Holly smiled. “That’s right, Fowl, you don’t.”

“Shall we go?” Artemis’s tone was meek, but his brain was sparking with ideas. Maybe cooperating with the fairies wasn’t such a bad idea. They had certain abilities, after all.

“Why not?” Holly turned to Butler. “Drive south. Stay on the back roads.”

“Tara, I presume. I’ve often wondered where exactly the entrance to E1 was.”

“Keep wondering, Mud Boy,” muttered Holly. “Now sleep. All this deduction is wearing me out.”

CHAPTER 4

FOWL IS FAIR

The Lower Elements, Haven City, Police Plaza, Detention Cell 4

Artemis woke in the LEP interrogation room. He could have been in any police interview office in the world. Same uncomfortable furniture, same old routine.

Root jumped right into it. “Okay, Fowl, start talking.”

Artemis took a moment to get his bearings. Holly and Root were facing him across a low plastic-topped table. A bright bulb shone directly into his face.

“Really, Commander. Is this it? I expected more.”

“Oh, there’s more. Just not for criminals like you.”

Artemis noted that his hands were shackled to the chair.

“You’re not still upset about last year, are you? After all, I won. That is supposed to be that, according to your own Book.”

Root leaned forward, until the tip of his cigar was inches from Artemis’s nose.

“This is an entirely different case, Mud Boy. So don’t give me the innocent act.”

Artemis was unperturbed. “Which one are you? Good cop or bad cop?”

Root laughed heartily, the tip of his cigar drawing patterns in the air.

“Good cop–bad cop! Hate to tell you this, Dorothy, but you ain’t in Kansas anymore.”

The commander loved quoting The Wizard of Oz. Three of his cousins were in the movie.

A figure emerged from the shadows. It had a tail, four legs, two arms, and was holding what looked like a pair of common kitchen plungers.

“Okay, Mud Boy,” said the figure. “Just relax, and this might not hurt too much.”

Foaly attached the suction cups to Artemis’s eyes, and the boy immediately fell unconscious.

“The sedative is in the rubber seals,” explained the centaur. “Gets in through the pores. They never see it coming. Tell me I’m not the cleverest individual in the universe.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Root innocently. “That pixie Koboi is one pretty s

harp female.”

Foaly stamped a hoof angrily. “Koboi? Koboi? Those wings of hers are ridiculous. If you ask me, we’re using far too much Koboi technology these days. It’s not good to let one company have all LEP’s business.”

“Unless it’s yours, of course.”

“I’m serious, Julius. I know Opal Koboi from my days at university. She’s not stable. There are Koboi chips in all the new Neutrinos. If those labs go under, all we’d have left are the DNA cannons in Police Plaza and a few cases of electric stun guns.”

Root snorted. “Koboi just upgraded every gun and vehicle in the force. Three times the power, half the heat emission. Better than the last statistics from your lab, Foaly.”

Foaly threaded a set of fiber-optic cables back to the computer.

“Yes, well, maybe if the Council would give me a decent budget . . .”

“Quit your moaning, Foaly. I saw the budget for this machine, it had better do more than unblock the drains.”

Foaly flicked his tail, highly offended.

“This is a Retimager. I’m considering going private with this baby.”

“And it does what exactly?”