Eoin Colfer - Artemis Fowl. The Opal Deception

‘The painting!’ Artemis managed to shout, his voice muffled by the bodyguard’s jacket.

Butler grabbed the picture, unceremoniously stuffing the priceless masterpiece into his jacket pocket. If Artemis had seen the century-old oil paint crack, he would have sobbed. But Butler was paid to protect only one thing, and it was not The Fairy Thief.

‘Hang on extremely tightly,’ advised the massive bodyguard, hefting a king-size mattress from the bed.

Artemis held on tightly as he’d been told, trying not to think. Unfortunately his brilliant brain automatically analysed the available data: Butler had entered the room at speed and without knocking, therefore there was danger of some kind. His refusal to answer questions meant that the danger was imminent. And the fact that he was on Butler’s back, hanging on tightly, indicated that they would not be escaping the aforementioned danger through conventional exit routes. The mattress would indicate that some cushioning would be needed…

‘Butler,’ gasped Artemis. ‘You do know that we’re three storeys up?’

Butler may have answered, but his employer did not hear him, because by then the giant bodyguard had propelled them through the open double windows and over the balcony railing.

For a fraction of a second, before the inevitable fall, the air currents spun the mattress round and Artemis could see back into his own bedroom. In that splinter of a moment, he saw a strange missile corkscrew through the bedroom door and come to a complete halt, directly over the empty perspex tube.

There was some kind of tracker in the tube, said the tiny portion of his brain that wasn’t panicking. Someone wants me dead.

Then came the inevitable fall. Ten metres. Straight down.

Butler automatically spread his limbs in a skydiving ‘X’, bearing down on the four corners of the mattress to stop it flipping. The trapped air below the mattress slowed their fall slightly, but not much. The pair went straight down, fast, G-force increasing their speed with every centimetre.

Sky and ground seemed to stretch and drip like oil paints on a canvas, and nothing seemed solid any more. This impression came to an abrupt halt when they slammed into the extremely solid tiled roof of a maintenance shed at the hotel’s rear.

The tiles seemed almost to explode under the impact, though the roof timbers held,

just. Butler felt as though his bones had been liquidized, but he knew that he would be OK after a few moments’ unconsciousness. He had been in worse collisions before.

His last impression before his senses deserted him was the feel of Master Artemis’s heartbeat through his jacket. Alive then. They had both survived. But for how long? If their assassin had seen his attempt fail, then maybe he would try again.

Artemis’s impact was cushioned by Butler and the mattress. Without them he would certainly have been killed. As it was, the bodyguard’s muscle-bound frame was dense enough to break two of his ribs. Artemis bounced a full metre into the air before coming to rest on the unconscious bodyguard’s back, facing the sky.

Each breath was short and painful, and two nubs of bone rose like knuckles from his chest. Sixth and seventh ribs, he guessed.

Overhead, a block of iridescent blue light flashed from his hotel window. It lit the sky for a split second, its belly busy with even brighter blue flares that wriggled like hooked worms. No one would pay much attention; the light could easily have come from an oversized camera flash. But Artemis knew better.

Bio-bomb, he thought. Now how do I know that?

Butler must be unconscious or else he would be moving, so it was up to Artemis to foil their attacker’s next murderous attempt. He tried to sit up, but the pain in his chest was ferocious and enough to knock him out for a second. When he awoke, his entire body was slick with sweat. Artemis saw that it was too late to escape; his assassin was already here, crouched, catlike, on the shed wall.

The killer was a strange individual, no bigger than a child but with adult proportions. She was female, with pretty, sharp features, cropped auburn hair and huge hazel eyes, but that didn’t mean any mercy would be forthcoming. Butler had once told him that eight of the top ten paid hitters in the world were women. This one wore a strange jumpsuit that shifted colours to suit the background, and those large eyes were red from crying.

Her ears are pointed, thought Artemis. Either I’m in shock, or she’s not human.

Then he made the mistake of moving again, and one of his broken ribs actually punched through the skin. A red stain blossomed on his shirt and Artemis gave up the fight to stay conscious.

It had taken Holly almost ninety minutes to reach Germany. On a normal mission it would have taken at least twice that long, but Holly had decided to break a few LEP regulations. Why not? she reasoned. It wasn’t as if she could get into any more trouble.

The LEP already thought she had killed the commander, and her communications were blocked so she could not explain what had really happened. No doubt she was classified as rogue and a Retrieval squad was already on her tail. Not to mention the fact that Opal Koboi was probably keeping electronic tabs on her. So there was no time to lose.

Ever since the goblin gangs had been caught smuggling human contraband through disused chutes, sentries had been posted in each surface shuttle port. Paris was guarded by a sleepy gnome who was only five years from retirement. He was awakened from his afternoon nap by an urgent communique from Police Plaza. There was a rogue Recon jock on the way up. Detain for questioning. Proceed with caution.

Nobody really expected that the gnome would have any success. Holly Short was in peak physical condition and had once lived through a tussle with a troll. The gnome sentry couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in shape, and he had to lie down if he got a hangnail. Nevertheless the sentry guarded the shuttle bay gamely until Holly blew past him on her way to the surface.

Once in the air, she peeled back a Velcro patch on her forearm and ran a search on her computer. The computer found the Kronski Hotel and flashed up three route options. Holly chose the shortest one, even though it meant passing over several major human population centres. More LEP regulations smashed to bits. At this point she really didn’t care. Her own career was beyond salvaging, but that didn’t matter. Holly had never been a career elf anyway. The only reason she hadn’t already been booted out of the LEP was the commander. He had seen her potential, and now he was gone.

The earth flashed by below. European smells drifted through her helmet filters.

The sea, baked earth, vines and the tang of pure snow. Generally this was what Holly lived for, but not today. Today she felt none of the usual above-ground euphoria. She simply felt alone. The commander had been the closest thing to family she had left. Now he was gone too. Perhaps because she had missed the sweet spot. Had she effectively killed Julius herself? It was too awful to think about, and too awful to forget.

Holly opened her visor to clear the tears. Artemis Fowl must be saved. As much for the commander as for himself. Holly closed her visor, kicked up her legs and opened the throttle to maximum. Time to see what these new wings of Foaly’s could do.

In a little more than an hour Holly sped into Munich’s airspace. She dropped to thirty metres, activating her helmet’s radar. It would be a shame to make it this far, only to be pasted by an incoming aircraft. The Kronski showed up as a red dot in her visor.

Foaly could have sent a live satellite feed, or at least the most recent video footage, but she had no way to contact the centaur — and even if she did, the Council would order her back to Police Plaza immediately.

Holly zeroed in on the red dot in her visor. That was where the bio-bomb would be headed, so she had to go there too. She dropped lower until the Kronski’s roof was just under her toes, then touched down on the rooftop. She was on her own now. This was as far as the on-board tracker could take her. She would have to locate Artemis’s room on her own.

Holly chewed her lip for a moment, then typed a command into the keypad on her wrist. She could have used voice command, but the software was touchy and she did not have time for computer error. In seconds, her on-board computer had hacked into the hotel computer and was displaying a guest list and schematic. Artemis was in room 304. Third storey on the south wing of the hotel.

Holly sprinted across the roof, activating her wings as she ran. She was seconds away from saving Artemis. Having a mythological creature drag him from his hotel room might be a bit of a shock, but not as much of a shock as being vaporized by a bio-bomb.

She stopped dead. A guided missile was arcing in from the horizon, towards the hotel. It was of fairy manufacture, no doubt about that, but new. Slicker and faster, with bigger tail rockets than she’d ever seen on a missile. Opal Koboi had obviously been making upgrades.

Holly spun on her heels, racing for the other side of the hotel. In her heart she knew she was too late, and the realization hit her that Opal had set her up again. There never was any hope of rescuing Artemis, just as there had never been any chance of rescuing the commander.

Before her wings even had a chance to kick in, there was a bright blue flash from beyond the lip of the roof, and a slight shudder underfoot as the bio-bomb detonated. It was the perfect weapon. There was no structural damage, and the bomb casing would consume itself, leaving no evidence that it had ever been there.

Holly dropped to her knees in frustration, peeling off her helmet to gulp in breaths of fresh air. The Munich air was laced with toxins, but it still tasted better than the below-ground filtered variety. But Holly did not notice the sweetness. Julius was gone. Artemis was dead. Butler was dead. How could she go on? What was the point?

Tears dropped from her lashes, running into tiny cracks in the concrete.

Get up! said her core of steel. The part of her that made Holly Short such an excellent officer. You are an LET officer. There is more at stake here than jour personal grieving. Time enough to cry later.

In a minute. I’ll get up in a minute. I just need sixty seconds.

Holly felt as though the grief had scooped out her insides. She felt hollow, numb.

Incapacitated.

‘How touching,’ said a voice. Robotic and familiar.

Holly did not even look up. ‘Koboi. Have you come to gloat? Does murder make you happy?’

‘Hmm?’ said the voice, seriously considering the question. ‘You know, it does. It actually does make me happy.’

Holly sniffled, shaking the last tears from her eyes. She decided not to cry again until Koboi was behind bars.

‘What do you want?’ she asked, rising from the concrete roof. Hovering at head height was a small bio-bomb. This model was spherical, about the size of a melon, and equipped with a plasma screen. Opal’s happy features were plastered across the monitor.

‘Oh, I just followed you from the chute because I wanted to see what total despair looks like. It’s not very fetching, is it?’

For a few moments the screen displayed Holly’s own distraught face, before flashing back to Opal.

‘Just detonate, and be damned,’ growled Holly.

The bio-bomb rose a little way, slowly circling Holly’s head.

‘Not just yet. I think there’s a spark of hope in you yet. So, I would like to extinguish that. In a moment I will detonate the bio-bomb. Nice, isn’t it? How do you like the design? Eight separate boosters, you know. It’s what happens after the detonation that’s important.’

Holly’s law-enforcer curiosity was piqued in spite of the circumstances. ‘What happens then, Koboi? Don’t tell me, world domination.’

Koboi laughed, the volume distorting the sound through the bomb’s micro-speakers. ‘World domination? You make it sound so unattainable. The first step is simplicity itself. All I have to do is put humans in contact with the People.’

Holly felt her own troubles instantly slip away. ‘Put humans into contact with the

People? Why would you do that?’

Opal’s features lost their merry cast. ‘Because the LEP imprisoned me. They studied me like an animal in a cage, and now we shall see how they like it. There will be a war, and I will supply the humans with the weapons to win. And after they have won, my chosen nation will be the most powerful on Earth. And I, inevitably, will become the most powerful person in that nation.’

Holly almost screamed. ‘All this for a childish pixie’s revenge.’

Seeing Holly’s discomfort cheered Opal immediately. ‘Oh no, I’m not a pixie any more.’ Koboi slowly unwound the bandages circling her head to reveal two surgically rounded humanoid ears. ‘I’m one of the Mud People now. I intend to be on the winning side. And my new daddy has an engineering company. And that company is sending down a probe.’

‘What probe?’ shouted Holly. ‘What company?’ Opal wagged a finger. ‘Oh no, enough explaining. I want you to die desolate and ignorant.’ For one moment her face lost its false merriment and Holly could see the hatred in her huge eyes. ‘You cost me a year of my life, Short. A year of a brilliant life. My time is too special to be wasted, especially answering to pathetic organizations like the LEP. Soon I will never have to answer to anyone ever again.’

Opal raised one hand into camera shot; it was clutching a small remote. She pressed the red button. And, as everyone knows, the red button can mean only one thing. Holly had milliseconds to come up with a plan. The monitor fizzled out, and a preen light on the missile’s console winked red. The signal had been received.

Detonation was imminent.

Holly jumped up, hooking her helmet over the spherical bomb. She put her weight on the helmet, bearing down on it. It was like trying to submerge a football. LEP helmets were composed of a rigid polymer that could deflect solinium flares. Of course the rest of Holly’s suit was not rigid and could not protect her from the bio-bomb, but maybe the helmet would be enough.

The bomb exploded, spinning the helmet into the air. Pure blue light gushed from the underside of the helmet, dissipating across the cement. Ants and spiders hopped once, then their tiny hearts froze. Holly could feel her own heart speed up, battling against the deadly solinium. She held on for as long as she could, then the concussion wave flung her off. The helmet spun away and the fatal light was free.

Holly flipped her wing control to rise, reaching for the skies. The blue light was after her like a wall of death. It was a race now. Had she gained enough time and distance to outrun the bio-bomb?

Holly felt her lips dragged back across her teeth. G-force rippled the skin on her cheeks. She was counting on the fact that the bio-bomb’s active agent was light; this meant that it could be focused to a certain diameter. Koboi would not want to draw attention to her device by wiping out a city block. Holly alone was her target.