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Authors: Eoin Colfer

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BOOK: The Arctic Incident
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There was also the complication that Artemis could very well be expecting her, especially if he
was
trading with the B’wa Kell. The idea of walking into a trap did not appeal to Holly. She had already been imprisoned once in Fowl Manor. Doubtless her cell was still furnished.

Holly activated the computer navigation package, calling up Fowl Manor on her helmet visor. A soft crimson light began to blip beside the 3-D plan of the house. The building had been red flagged by the LEP. Holly groaned. Now she would be treated to a video warning, just in case there was one Recon officer under the world who had not heard of Artemis Fowl.

Corporal Lili Frond’s face appeared on her screen. Of course they had chosen Lili for this assignment. The bimbo face of the LEP. Sexism was alive and well and living in Police Plaza. It was rumored that Frond’s LEP scores had been bumped up because she was a descendant of the elfin king.

“You have selected Fowl Manor,” said Frond’s image, tossing blond tresses over her shoulder. “This is a red-flagged building. Unauthorized access is strictly forbidden. Do not even attempt a flyover. Artemis Fowl is considered an active threat to the People.”

A picture of Fowl’s appeared beside Frond, a digitally enhanced scowl on his face.

“His accomplice, known only as Butler, is not to be approached under any circumstances. He is generally armed and always dangerous.”

Butler’s massive head appeared beside the other images. “Armed and dangerous” hardly did him justice. He was the only human in history to have taken on a troll and won.

Holly sent the coordinates to the flight computer, and let the wings do the steering for her. The countryside sped by below. Even since her last visit, the Mud Man infestation seemed to have taken a stronger hold. There was barely an acre of land without dozens of their dwellings digging into its soil, and barely a mile of river without one of their factories pouring its poison into the waters.

The sun finally dipped below the horizon, and Holly raised the filters on her visor. Time was on her side now. She had the entire night to come up with a plan. Holly found that she missed Foaly’s sarcastic comments in her ear. Annoying as the centaur’s observations were, they generally proved accurate, and had saved her hide on more than one occasion. She tried to establish a link, but the flares were still high, and there was no reception. Nothing but static.

Fowl Manor loomed in the distance, completely dominating the surrounding landscape. Holly scanned the building with her thermal bar and found nothing but insect and small rodent life-forms. Spiders and mice. Nobody home. That suited her fine. She landed on the head of a particularly gruesome stone gargoyle, and settled in to wait.

Fowl Manor

The original Fowl castle had been built by Aodhán Fowl in the fifteenth century overlooking low-lying country on all sides. A tactic borrowed from the Normans. Never let your enemies sneak up on you. Over the centuries, the castle had been extensively remodeled until it became a manor, but the attention to security remained. The manor was surrounded by three-foot-thick walls, and wired with a state-of-the-art security system.

Butler pulled off the road, opening the estate gates by a remote control. He glanced back at his employer’s thoughtful face. Sometimes he thought that in spite of all his contacts, informants, and employees, Artemis Fowl was the loneliest boy he’d ever met.

“We could bring a couple of those fairy blasters,” he said.

Butler had relieved LEPretrieval One of their weaponry during the previous year’s siege.

Artemis nodded. “Good idea, but remove the nuclear batteries and put them in a bag with some old games and books. We can pretend they’re toys if we’re captured.”

“Yes, sir. Good thinking.”

The Bentley Red Tag crunched up the driveway, activating the ground’s security lights. There were several lamps on in the main house. These were on randomly alternating timers.

Butler undid his seat belt, stepping lithely from the Bentley.

“You need anything special, Artemis?”

Artemis nodded. “Grab some caviar from the kitchen. You wouldn’t believe the muck they feed us in Bartleby’s for ten thousand a semester.”

Butler smiled again. A teenager asking for caviar. He’d never get used to it. The smile withered on his lips halfway to the recently remodeled entrance. A shiver passed across his heart. He knew that feeling well. His mother had used to say that someone had just walked over his grave. A sixth sense. Gut instinct. There was peril somewhere. Invisible, but here nevertheless.

Holly spotted the headlights raking the sky from over a mile away. Optix were no good from this vantage point.

Even when the automobile’s windshield came into view, the glass was tinted and the shadows beyond were deep. Holly felt her heart rate increase at the sight of Fowl’s automobile.

The car wound along the avenue, flickering between the rows of willow and horse chestnut. Holly ducked instinctively, though she was completely shielded from human eyes. You couldn’t be certain with Artemis Fowl’s manservant. Last year he had dismantled a fairy helmet and constructed an eyepiece that allowed him to spot and neutralize an entire crack squad of LEPretrieval commandos. It was hardly likely that he was wearing the lens at the moment, but as Trouble Kelp and his boys had learned, it didn’t pay to underestimate Butler.

Holly set the Neutrino to slightly above the recommended stun setting. A couple of Butler’s brain cells might get fried, but she wasn’t about to lose any sleep over it.

The car swung into the driveway, crunching across the gravel. Butler climbed out. Holly felt her back teeth grinding. Once upon a time, she had saved his life, healing him after a mortal encounter with a troll. She wasn’t sure if she’d do it again.

Holding her breath, Holly set the DoubleDex to slow descent. She alighted soundlessly, aiming her weapon at Butler’s chest. Now
there
was a target a sun-blinded dwarf couldn’t miss.

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 sharp 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?”

Foaly activated a plasma screen on the holding-cell wall.

“You see these dark circles; these are the human’s retinas. Every image leaves a tiny etching, like a photo negative. We can feed whatever pictures we want into the computer and search for matches.”

Root didn’t exactly fall to his knees in awe. “Isn’t that handy?”

“Well, yes it is, actually. Observe.”

Foaly called up an image of a goblin, cross referencing it with the Retimager’s database.

“For every matching point we get a hit. About two hundred hits is normal. General shape of the head, features, and so on. Anything significantly above that and he’s seen that goblin before.”

One-eighty-six flashed up on the screen.

“Negative on the goblin. Let’s try a softnose.”

Again the count was under two hundred.

“Another negative. Sorry, Captain, but Master Fowl here is innocent. He’s never even seen a goblin, much less traded with the B’wa Kell.”

“They could have mind-wiped him.”

Foaly removed the seals from Artemis’s eyes. “That’s the beauty of this baby. Mindwipes don’t work. The Retimager operates on actual physical evidence. You’d have to scrub the retinas.”

“Anything on the human’s computer?”

“Plenty,” replied Foaly. “But nothing incriminating. Not a single mention of goblins or batteries.”

Root scratched his square jaw. “What about the big one? He could have been the go-between.”

“Did him already with the Retimager. Nothing. Face it, the LEP have pulled in the wrong Mud Men. Wipe ’em and send ’em home.”

Holly nodded. The commander didn’t.

“Wait a minute. I’m thinking.”

“About what?” asked Holly. “The sooner we get Artemis Fowl’s nose out of our business, the better.”

“Maybe not. Since they’re already here . . .”

Holly’s jaw dropped. “Commander. You don’t know Fowl the way I do. Give him half a chance, and he’ll be a bigger problem than the goblins.”

“Maybe he could help us with our Mud Man problem.”

“I have to object, Commander. These humans are not to be trusted.”

Root’s face would have glowed in the dark.

“Do you think I like this, Captain? Do you think I relish the idea of crawling to this Mud Boy? I do not. I would rather swallow live stink worms than ask Artemis Fowl for help. But someone is powering the B’wa Kell’s arms, and I need to find out who. So get with the program, Holly. There’s more at stake here than your little vendetta.”

Holly bit her tongue. She couldn’t oppose the commander, not after all he’d done for her, but asking Artemis Fowl for help was the wrong course of action, whatever the situation. She didn’t doubt for a minute that the human would have a solution to their problem, but at what cost?

Root drew a deep breath. “Okay, Foaly, bring him around. And fit him with a translator. Speaking Mud Man gives me a headache.”

* * *

Artemis massaged the puffy skin beneath his eyes.

“Sedative in the seals?” he said glancing at Foaly. “Micro needles?”

The centaur was impressed. “You’re pretty sharp for a Mud Boy.”

Artemis touched the crescent-shaped nodule fixed above his ear.

“Translator?”

Foaly nodded at the commander. “Speaking in tongues gives some people a headache.”

Artemis straightened his school tie. “I see. Now, how can I be of service?”

“What makes you think we need help from you, human?” growled Root around the butt of his cigar.

The boy smirked. “I have a feeling, Commander, that if you did not need something from me, I would be regaining consciousness in my own bed, with absolutely no memory of our encounter.”

Foaly hid his grin behind a hairy hand.

“You’re lucky you’re not waking up in a cell,” said Holly.

“Still bitter, Captain Short? Can’t we wipe the slate clean?”

Holly’s glare was all the answer he needed.

Artemis sighed. “Very well. I shall guess. There are humans trading with the Lower Elements. And you need Butler to track these merchants down. Close enough?”

The fairies were silent for a moment. Hearing it from Fowl suddenly brought the reality home to them.

“Close enough,” admitted Root. “Okay, Foaly, bring Mud Boy up to speed.”

The consultant loaded a file from the LEP central server. A series of Network News clips flashed up on the plasma screen. The reporter was a middle-aged elf with a forelock the size of a tidal wave.

“Downtown Haven,” crooned the reporter. “Another contraband seizure by the LEP. Hollywood laser disks with an estimated street value of five hundred ounces of gold. The B’wa Kell goblin triad is suspected.”

“It gets worse,” said Root grimly.

Artemis smiled. “There’s worse?”

The reporter appeared again. This time flames billowed from the windows of a warehouse behind him. His forelock looked a bit crispy.

“Tonight the B’wa Kell have staked their claim to the East Bank by torching a warehouse used by Koboi Laboratories. Apparently the
pixie with the golden touch
refused to pay their protection fee.”

The flames were replaced by another news byte, this time featuring an angry mob.

“Controversy today outside Police Plaza as the public protest the LEP’s failure to deal with the goblin problem. Many ancient houses have been put out of business by the B’wa Kell’s racketeering. Most heavily targeted have been Koboi Laboratories, who have suffered six counts of sabotage in the past month alone.”

Foaly froze the image. The public did not look happy.

“The thing you have to understand, Fowl, is that goblins are dumb. I’m not insulting them, it’s scientifically proven. Brains no bigger than rats.”

Artemis nodded. “So who’s organizing them?”

Root ground out his cigar. “We don’t know. But it’s getting worse. The B’wa Kell have graduated from petty crime to an all-out war on the police. Last night we intercepted a delivery of batteries from the surface. These batteries are being used to power outlawed softnose laser weapons.”

“And Captain Short thought that I might be the Mud Man on the other end of the deal.”

“Can you blame me?” muttered Holly.

Artemis ignored the comment. “How do you know the goblins aren’t just ripping off wholesalers? After all, batteries are rarely under guard.”

Foaly chuckled. “No, I don’t think you understand just how stupid goblins are. Let me give you an example. One of the B’wa Kell generals—and this is their top fairy—was caught trying to pass off a forged credit card, because he signed his own name. No, whoever is behind this would need a human contact to make sure the deals weren’t fouled up.”

“So you’d like me to find out who this human contact is,” said Artemis. “And more importantly, how much he knows.”

As he spoke, Artemis’s mind was racing. He could work this entire situation to his advantage. The People’s powers would be valuable aces to hold in a negotiation with mobsters. The seeds of a plan began to sprout in his brain.

Root nodded reluctantly. “That’s it. I can’t risk putting LEPrecon agents aboveground. Who knows what technology the goblins have traded? I could be walking my agents into a trap. As humans, you both could blend in.”

“Butler, blend in?” smiled Artemis. “I doubt it.”

“At least he doesn’t have four legs and a tail,” observed Foaly.

“Point taken. And there is no doubt that if any man alive can track down your rogue trader, it’s Butler. But . . .”

Here we go, thought Holly. Artemis Fowl does nothing for nothing.

“But?” prompted Root.

“But if you want my help, I will require something in return.”

“What exactly?” said Root warily.

“I need transport to Russia,” replied Artemis. “The Arctic Circle, to be precise. And I need help with a rescue attempt.”

Root frowned.“Northern Russia is not good for us. We can’t shield there because of the radiation.”

“Those are my conditions,” said Artemis. “The man I intend to rescue is my father. For all I know, it’s already too late. So I really don’t have time to negotiate.”

The Mud Boy sounded sincere. Even Holly’s heart softened for a moment. But you never knew with Artemis Fowl, this could all be part of yet another scheme. Root made an executive decision.

“Deal,” he said, holding out his hand.

They shook. Fairy and human. A historic moment.

“Good,” said Root. “Now, Foaly, wake the big one and give that goblin shuttle a quick systems check.”

“What about me?” asked Holly. “Back on stakeout duty?”

If Root had not been a commander, he probably would have cackled. “Oh no, Captain. You’re the best shuttle pilot we have. You’re going to Paris.”

BOOK: The Arctic Incident
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