The Eternity Code (Artemis Fowl 3)

Back to Juliet. The bodyguard-in-training ran like a sprinter out of the blocks, dodging around stunned merchants and hanging a hard right down the alley. Madam Ko couldn’t have gone far. She could still complete her assignment.

Juliet was furious with herself. This was exactly the kind of stunt her brother had warned her about.

Watch out for Madam Ko, Butler had advised. You never know what she’ll cook up for a field assignment. I heard that she once stampeded a herd of elephants in Calcutta, just to distract an acolyte.

The trouble was that you couldn’t be sure. That carpet merchant may have been in Madam Ko’s employ, or he may have been an innocent civilian who happened to stick his nose in where it didn’t belong.

The alley narrowed so the human traffic ran single file. Makeshift clotheslines zigzagged at head height, gutras and abayas hung limp and steaming in the heat. Juliet ducked below the laundry, dodging around dawdling shoppers.

Startled turkeys hopped as far out of the way as their string leads would allow.

And suddenly she was in a clearing. A dim square surrounded by three-story houses. Men lounged in the upper balconies puffing on fruit-flavored water pipes. Underfoot was a priceless chipped mosaic, depicting a Roman bath scene.

In the center of the square, lying with her knees hugged to her chest, was Madam Ko. She was being assaulted by three men. These were no local traders. All three wore special-forces black, and attacked with the assuredness and accuracy of trained professionals. This was no test. These men were actually trying to kill her sensei.

Juliet was unarmed, this was one of the rules. To be caught smuggling arms into the African country would automatically mean life imprisonment. Luckily, it seemed as though her adversaries were also without weapons, though hands and feet would certainly be sufficient for the job they had in mind.

Improvisation was the key to survival here. There was no point in attempting a straight assault. If these three had subdued Madam Ko, then they would be more than a match for her in regular combat. Time to try something a bit unorthodox.

Juliet leapt on the run, snagging a clothesline on her way past. The ring resisted for a second, then popped out of the dry plaster. The cable played out behind her, sagging with its load of rugs and head scarves. Juliet veered left as far as the line’s other anchor would allow, and then swung around toward the men. “Hey, boys!” she yelled, not from bravado, but because her maneuver would work better head-on.

The men looked up just in time to get a faceful of sopping camel-hair. The heavy rugs and garments wrapped themselves around their flailing limbs, and the nylon cable caught them below the chins. In less than a second the three were down.

Juliet made certain they stayed down with pinches to the nerve clusters at the base of the neck.

“Madam Ko,” she cried, searching the laundry for her sensei.

The old woman lay shuddering in an olive dress, a plain head scarf covering her face.

Juliet helped the woman to her feet. “Did you see that move, Madam? I totally decked those morons. I bet they never saw anything like that before. Improvisation. Butler always says it’s the key. You know, I think my eye shadow distracted them. Glitter green. Never fails . . .”

Juliet stopped talking because there was a knife at her throat. The knife was wielded by Madam Ko herself, who was in fact not Madam Ko, but some other tiny Asian lady, in an olive dress. A decoy.

“You are dead,” said the lady.

“Yes,” agreed Madam Ko, stepping from the shadows. “And if you are dead, then the Principal is dead. And you have failed.”

Juliet bowed low, joining her hands. “That was a sly trick, Madam,” she said, trying to sound respectful.

Her sensei laughed. “Of course. That is the way of life. What did you expect?”

“But those assassins, I completely kicked their b— I defeated them comprehensively.”

Madam Ko dismissed the claim with a wave. “Luck. Fortunately for you, these were not assassins, but three graduates of the academy. What was that nonsense with the wire?”

“It’s a wrestling trick,” said Juliet. “It’s called the clothesline.”

“Unreliable,” said the Japanese lady. “You succeeded because fortune was with you. Fortune is not enough in our business.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” protested Juliet. “There was this guy in the market. Totally in my face. I had to put him to sleep for a while.”

Madam Ko tapped Juliet between the eyes. “Quiet, girl. Think for once. What should you have done?”

Juliet bowed an inch lower. “I should have incapacitated the merchant immediately.”

“Exactly. His life means nothing. Insignificant, compared to the Principal’s safety.”

“I can’t just kill innocent people,” protested Juliet.

Madam Ko sighed. “I know, child. And that is why you are not ready. You have all the skill, but you lack focus and resolve. Perhaps next year.”

Juliet’s heart plummeted. Her brother had earned the blue diamond at eighteen years of age. The youngest graduate in the academy’s history. She had been hoping to equal that feat. Now she would have to try again in twelve months. It was pointless to object any further. Madam Ko never reversed a decision.

A young woman in acolyte’s robes emerged from the alley, holding a small briefcase.

“Madam,” she said, bowing. “There is a call for you on the satellite phone.”

Madam Ko took the offered handset, listening intently for several moments. “A message from Artemis Fowl,” she said eventually.

Juliet itched to straighten from her bow, but it would be an unforgivable breach of protocol. “Yes, Madam?”

“The message is: Domovoi needs you.”

Juliet frowned. “You mean, Butler needs me.”

“No,” said Madam Ko without a trace of emotion. “I mean Domovoi needs you. I am just repeating what was told to me.”

And suddenly Juliet could feel the sun pounding on her neck, and she could hear the mosquitoes whining in her ear like dentists’ drills, and all she wanted to do was straighten up and run all the way to the airport. Butler would never have revealed his name to Artemis. Not unless . . . No, she couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t even allow herself to think it.

Madam Ko tapped her chin thoughtfully. “You are not ready. I should not let you leave. You are too emotionally nvolved to be an effective bodyguard.”

“Please, Madam,” said Juliet.

Her sensei considered it for two long minutes. “Very well,” she said. “Go.”

Juliet was gone before the word finished echoing around the square, and heaven help any carpet merchant who blocked her path.

CHAPTER 5

THE METAL MAN AND THE MONKEY

The Spiro Needle, Chicago

Jon Spiro took the Concorde from Heathrow to O’Hare International Airport in Chicago. A stretch limousine ferried him downtown to the Spiro Needle, a sliver of steel and glass rising eighty-six stories above the Chicago skyline. Spiro Industries was located on floors fifty through eighty-five. The eighty-sixth floor was Spiro’s personal residence, accessible either by private elevator or helipad.

Jon Spiro hadn’t slept for the entire journey, too excited by the little cube sitting in his briefcase. The head of his technical staff was equally excited when Spiro informed him what this harmless looking box was capable of, and immediately scurried off to unravel the C Cube’s secrets. Six hours later he scurried back to the conference room for a midnight meeting.

“It’s useless,” said the scientist, whose name was Dr. Pearson.

Spiro swirled an olive in his martini glass. “I don’t think so, Pearson,” he said. “In fact, I know that little gizmo is anything but useless. I think that maybe you’re the useless one in this equation.”

Spiro was in a terrible mood. Arno Blunt had just called to inform him of Fowl’s survival. When Spiro was in a dark mood, people had been known to disappear off the face of the earth, if they we

re lucky.

Pearson could feel the stare of the conference room’s third occupant bouncing off his head. This was not a woman you wanted angry with you. Pearson knew that if Jon Spiro decided to have him thrown out the window, this particular individual would have no problem signing an affidavit swearing that he had jumped.

Pearson chose his words carefully. “This device . . .”

“The C Cube. That’s what it’s called. I told you that, so use the name.”

“The C Cube undoubtedly has enormous potential. But it’s encrypted.”

Spiro threw the olive at his head scientist. It was a humiliating experience for a Nobel Prize winner.

“So break the encryption. What do I pay you guys for?”

Pearson could feel his heart speeding up. “It’s not that simple. This code. It’s unbreakable.”

“Let me get this straight,” said Spiro, leaning back in his oxblood leather chair. “I’m putting two hundred million a year into your department, and you can’t break one lousy code, set up by a kid?”

Pearson was trying not to think about the sound his body would make hitting the pavement. His next sentence would save him or damn him.

“The Cube is voice activated, and coded to Artemis Fowl’s voice patterns. Nobody can break the code. It’s not possible.”

Spiro did not respond, it was a signal to continue.

“I’ve heard of something like this. We scientists theorize about it. An eternity code, it’s called. The code has millions of possible permutations, and not only that, but it’s based on an unknown language. It seems as though this boy has created a language that is spoken only by him. We don’t even know how it corresponds to English. A code like this is not even supposed to exist. If Fowl is dead, then I’m sorry to say, Mr. Spiro, but the C Cube died with him.”