The Opal Deception (Artemis Fowl 4)

“Should we blast them from the skies?” asked the younger Brill brother eagerly. At last some of the action he had been promised.

“No,” replied Opal. “A plasma burst would give our position to human and fairy police satellites. We go silent. Turn off everything. Even life support. I don’t know how they got this close, but the only way they’re going to find out our exact location is to run into us. And if that happens, their sad little shuttle will crumple like cardboard.”

The Brills obeyed promptly, switching off all of the shuttle’s systems.

“Good,” whispered Opal, placing a slim finger over her lips. They watched the shuttle for several minutes until Opal decided to break the silence.

“Whoever is passing wind, please stop it, or I will devise a fitting punishment.”

“It wasn’t me,” mouthed the Brill brothers simultaneously. Neither was anxious to find out what the fitting punishment for passing wind was.

E7, Ten Minutes Earlier

Holly eased the LEP shuttle through a particularly tricky secondary shaft and into E7. Almost immediately, two red lights began pulsing on the console.

“The clock is ticking,” she announced. “We just triggered two of Foaly’s sensors. They’re going to put the shuttle together with the probe and come running.”

“How long?” asked Artemis.

Holly calculated in her head. “If they come supersonic in the attack shuttle, less than half an hour.”

“Perfect,” said Artemis, pleased.

“I’m glad you think so,” moaned Mulch. “Supersonic LEP officers are never a welcome sight among burglars. As a general rule we prefer our police officers subsonic.”

Holly clamped the shuttle to a rocky outcrop on the chute wall. “Are you backing out, Mulch? Or is just the usual moaning?”

The dwarf rotated his jaw, warming it up for the work ahead. “I think I’m entitled to a little moan. Why do these plans always involve me putting myself in harm’s way, while you three get to wait it out in the shuttle?”

Artemis handed him a cooler sack from the galley. “Because you are the only one who can do this, Mulch. You alone can foil Koboi’s plan.”

Mulch was not impressed. “I’m not impressed,” he said. “I’d better get a medal for this. Real gold, too. No more gold-plated computer disks.”

Holly hustled him to the starboard hatch. “Mulch, if they don’t lock me in prison for the rest of my life, I will start the campaign to give you the biggest medal in the LEP cabinet.”

“And amnesty for any past and future crimes?”

Holly opened the hatch. “Past, maybe. Future, not a chance. But no guarantees. I’m not exactly flavor of the month at Police Plaza.”

Mulch tucked the sack inside his shirt. “Okay. Possible big medal and probable amnesty. I’ll take it.” He put one foot outside onto the flat surface of the rock. Tunnel wind sucked at his leg, threatening to tumble him into the abyss. “We meet back here in twenty minutes.”

Artemis handed the dwarf a small walkie-talkie from the LEP locker. “Remember the plan,” shouted Artemis over the roar of the wind. “Don’t forget to leave the communicator. Only steal what you are supposed to. Nothing else.”

“Nothing else,” echoed Mulch, looking none too pleased. After all, who knew what valuables Opal may have lying about up there. “Unless something really jumps out at me.”

“Nothing,” insisted Artemis. “Now, are you sure you can get in?”

Mulch’s grin revealed rows of rectangular teeth. “I can get in. You just make sure their power is off and they’re looking the other way.”

Butler hefted the bag of tricks that he had brought with him from Fowl Manor. “Don’t worry, Mulch. They’ll be looking the other way. I guarantee it.”

Police Plaza, The Lower Elements

All the brass were in the Operations Room, watching live television updates on the probe’s progress when Foaly burst in.

“We need to talk,” blurted the centaur to the general assembly.

“Quiet,” hissed Council Chairman Cahartez. “Have a bowl of curry.”

Chairman Cahartez ran a fleet of curry vans in Haven City. Vole curry was his specialty. Obviously he was catering this little viewing session.

Foaly ignored the buffet table. He snatched a remote control from a chair armrest and muted the master volume.

“We have big trouble, ladies and gentlemen. Opal Koboi is loose, and I think she’s behind the Zito probe.”

A high-back swivel chair swung around. Ark Sool was lounging in it. “Opal Koboi? Amazing. And she’s doing all this psychically, I suppose.”

“No. What are you doing in that chair? That’s the commander’s chair. The real commander, not Internal Affairs.”

Sool tapped the golden acorns on his lapel. “I’ve been promoted.”

Foaly blanched. “You’re the new Recon commander?”

Sool’s smile could have illuminated a dark room. “Yes. The Council felt that Recon had been getting a bit out of hand lately. They felt, and I must say I agree, that Recon needs a firm hand. Of course I will stay on at Internal Affairs until a suitable replacement can be found.”

Foaly scowled. There was no time for this. Not now. He had to get clearance for a supersonic launch immediately.

“Okay, Sool, Commander. I can lodge my objection later. Right now we have an emergency on our hands.”

Everyone was listening now. But none with much enthusiasm, except Commander Vinyaya who had always been a staunch supporter of Julius Root, and would certainly have not voted for Sool. Vinyaya was all ears.

“What’s the emergency, Foaly?” she asked.

Foaly slipped a computer disk into the room’s multidrive. “That thing in the Argon Clinic is not Opal Koboi; it’s a clone.”

“Evidence?” demanded Sool.

Foaly highlighted a window on the screen. “I scanned her retinas and found that the last image the clone saw was Opal Koboi herself. Obviously during her escape.”

Sool was not convinced. “I’ve never trusted your gadgets, Foaly. Your Retimager is not accepted as actual evidence in a courtroom.”

“We’re not in a courtroom, Sool,” said Foaly through ground teeth. “If we accept that Opal could be loose, then the events of the past twenty-four hours take on a whole new significance. A pattern begins to emerge. Scalene is dead, pixies are missing from the clinic, Julius is murdered, and Holly is blamed. Then within hours of this, a probe is sent down a decade ahead of schedule. Koboi is behind all of this. That probe is on its way here and we’re sitting around watching it on PPTV . . . eating stinking vole curry!”

“I object to the disparaging curry remark,” said Cahartez, wounded. “But otherwise I get your point.”

Sool jumped from his chair. “What point? Foaly is connecting dots that don’t exist. All he is trying to do is exonerate his late friend, Captain Short.”

“Holly may be alive!” snapped Foaly. “And trying to do something about Opal Koboi.”

Sool rolled his eyes. “But her vitals flatlined, centaur. We remote-destructed her helmet. I was there, remember?”