Eoin Colfer - Artemis Fowl. The Opal Deception

The creature sat up straight. ‘How dare you!’ he cried. ‘I am a dwarf, as you very well know.’

Butler thought back to Artemis’s confusing message.

‘Let me guess. I used to know you, but somehow I forgot. Oh yes, the fairy police wiped my mind.’

Mulch burped. ‘Correct. You’re not as slow as you look.’

Butler raised the gun. ‘This is still cocked, so less of the lip, little man.’

‘Pardon me, I didn’t realize we were enemies now.’

Butler leaned forward in his chair. ‘We were friends?’

Mulch thought about it. ‘Not at first, no. But I think you grew to love me for my charm and noble character.’

Butler sniffed. ‘And personal hygiene?’

‘That’s not fair,’ objected Mulch. ‘Do you have any idea what I had to do to get here? I escaped from a sub-shuttle and swam a couple of miles in freezing cold water.

Then I had to break into a blacksmith’s in the west of Ireland — about the only place they still have blacksmiths — and snip off my mouth ring. Don’t ask. Then I burrowed across the entire country to find out the truth about this entire affair. And when I get here, one of the few Mud Men that I don’t feel like taking a bite out of is pointing a gun at me.’

‘Hold on a minute,’ said Butler. ‘I need to get a tissue to wipe my eyes.’

‘You don’t believe any of this, do you?’

‘Do I believe in fairy police and pixie conspiracies and tunnelling dwarfs? No, I don’t.’

Mulch reached slowly inside his jumpsuit, pulling out the gold-plated computer disk.

‘Maybe this will open your mind.’

Butler turned on one of Artemis’s Powerbooks, making sure the laptop was not connected to any other computer by wire or infrared. If this disk did contain a virus, then they would lose only one hard drive. He cleaned the disk off with a cleaner spray and cloth, sliding it into the multi- drive.

The computer asked for a password.

‘This disk is locked,’ said Butler. ‘What’s the password?’

Mulch shrugged, a French stick in each hand. ‘Hey, I don’t know. It’s Artemis’s disk.’

Butler frowned. If this really was Artemis’s disk, then Artemis’s password would open it. He typed in three words. Aurum potestas est. Gold is power. The family motto.

Seconds later the locked disk icon was replaced by a window containing two folders.

One was labelled ‘Artemis’, the other ‘Butler’. Before the bodyguard opened either, he ran a virus check just in case. The check came up clean.

Feeling strangely nervous, Butler opened the folder with his name on it. There were over a hundred files on it. Mostly text files, but some video too. The largest file was labelled ‘view me first’. Butler double-clicked that file.

A small Quicktime player opened on the screen. In the picture, Artemis was seated at the very desk which the laptop rested on. Bizarre. Butler clicked the ‘play’ triangle.

‘Hello, Butler,’ said Artemis’s voice. Either that or a very sophisticated fake. ‘If you are watching this, then our good friend Mister Diggums has come good.’

‘You hear that?’ spat Mulch through a mouthful of bread. ‘ Good friend Mister Diggums.’

‘Quiet!’

‘Everything you think you know about this planet is about to change,’ continued Artemis. ‘Humans are not the only sentient beings on Earth; in fact we are not even the most technologically advanced. Below the surface are several species of fairy. Most are possibly primates, but I have not had an opportunity to conduct medical examinations as yet.’

Butler could not hide his impatience. ‘Please, Artemis. Get to the point.’

‘But more of that at another time,’ said Artemis, as if he had heard. ‘There is a possibility that you are watching this at a time of peril, so I must arm you with all the knowledge that we have gathered during our adventures with the Lower Elements Police.’

Lower Elements Police? thought Butler. This is all a fake. Somehow it’s fake.

Again the video-Artemis seemed to read his thoughts. ‘In order to verify the fantastical facts that I am about to reveal, I will say one word. Just one. A word that I could not possibly know unless you had told me. Something you said as you lay dying, before Holly Short cured you with her magic. What would you tell me if you lay dying, old friend? What would be the single word you would say?’

I would tell you my first name, thought Butler. Something only two other people in the world know. Something completely forbidden by bodyguard etiquette, unless it is too late to matter.

Artemis leaned in to the camera. ‘Your name, my old friend, is Domovoi.’

Butler was reeling mentally. Oh my God, he thought. It’s true, it’s all true.

Something began to happen in his brain then. Disjointed images flashed through his subconscious, releasing repressed memories. The false past was swept away by blinding truth. An electric join-the-dots jolted through his cranium, making everything clear. It all made sense now. He felt old, because the healing had aged him. Sometimes he found it difficult to breathe, because Kevlar strands had been woven into the skin over his chest wound. He remembered Holly’s kidnapping, and the B’wa Kell goblin revolution. He remembered Holly and Julius, the centaur Foaly and, of course, Mulch Diggums. There was no need to read the other files; one word had been enough. He remembered everything.

Butler studied the dwarf with fresh eyes. Everything was so familiar now: the vibrating frizz of hair, the bow-legged stance, the smell. He sprang from his chair, striding across to Mulch, who was busy raiding the study’s mini-fridge.

‘Mulch, you old reprobate. Good to see you.’

‘Now he remembers,’ said the dwarf without turning round. ‘Do you have anything to say?’

Butler glanced at the open bum-flap. ‘Yes. Don’t point that thing at me. I’ve seen the damage it can do.’

The bodyguard’s smile froze on his face as he remembered one detail of Artemis’s phone message.

‘Julius? I heard something about a bomb.’

Mulch turned from the fridge, his beard laced with a cocktail of dairy products.

‘Yes. Julius is gone. I can’t believe it. He’s been chasing me for so many years.’

Butler felt a terrific weariness weighing on his shoulders. He had lost too many comrades over the years.

‘And what’s more,’ continued Mulch, ‘Holly is accused of murdering him.’

‘That’s just not possible. We have to find them.’

‘Now you’re talking,’ said the dwarf, slamming the fridge door. ‘Do you have a plan?’

‘Yes. Find Holly and Artemis.’

Mulch rolled his eyes. ‘Pure genius. It’s a wonder you need Artemis at all.’

Now that the dwarf had eaten his fill, the two reacquainted friends sat round the conference table and brought each other up to speed.

Butler cleaned his gun as he spoke. He often did this in times of stress. It was a comfort thing.

‘So, Opal Koboi somehow gets out of prison and hatches this complicated plot to avenge herself on everyone who put her in there. Not only that, but she sets Holly up to take the blame.’

‘Remind you of anyone?’ asked the dwarf.

Butler polished the Sig Sauer’s slide. ‘Artemis may be a criminal, but he is not evil.’

‘Who said anything about Artemis?’

‘Well, what about you, Mulch? Why didn’t Opal try to kill you?’

‘Ah well,’ sighed the dwarf, ever the martyr. ‘The LEP didn’t advertise my involvement. It wouldn’t do to have the proud officers of our police force tarnished by association with a known criminal.’

Butler nodded. ‘It makes sense. So, you’re safe for now, and Artemis and Holly are alive. But Opal has something planned for them. Something to do with trolls and the Eleven Wonders. Any ideas?’

‘We both know about trolls, right?’

Butler nodded again. He had fought a troll not so long ago — without a doubt the toughest battle he had ever been involved in. He couldn’t believe the LEP had managed to wipe it from his mind.

‘But what about the Eleven Wonders?’

‘The Eleven Wonders is a theme park in Haven’s Old Town district. Fairies are obsessed with Mud Men, so one bright-spark billionaire thought it would be a great idea to build smaller models of the human wonders of the world and put them all in one place. It did OK for a few years, but I think looking at these buildings made the People remember just how much they missed the surface.’

Butler ran through a list in his head. ‘But there are only seven wonders in the world.’

‘There used to be eleven,’ said Mulch. ‘Trust me, I have photographs. Anyway, the park is closed down now. That whole area of the city has been abandoned for years — the tunnels are not safe. And the whole place is overrun by trolls.’ He stopped suddenly, the horror of what he had just said hitting home. ‘Oh gods. Trolls.’

Butler began to quickly reassemble his weapon. ‘We need to get down there right now.’

‘Impossible,’ said Mulch. ‘I can’t even begin to think how.’

Butler dragged the dwarf to his feet, propelling him towards the door.

‘Maybe not. But you know someone. People in your business always know someone.’

Mulch ground his teeth, thinking about it. ‘You know, there is someone. A sprite who owes Holly his life. But whatever I persuade him to do for us won’t be legal.’

Butler grabbed a bag of weaponry from a cabinet.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘Illegal is always faster.’

Chapter 7: The Temple Of Artemis

THE LOWER ELEMENTS

Opal Koboi’s shuttle was a concept model that had never gone into mass production. It was years ahead of anything on the market, but its skin of stealth ore and cam foil made the cost of such a vehicle so exorbitant that even Opal Koboi couldn’t have afforded one without the government grants that had helped to pay for it.

Scant secured the prisoners in the passenger bay, while Merv piloted them across to Scotland, then underground through a mountain river in the Highlands. Opal busied herself making sure that her other plan, the one involving world domination, was proceeding smoothly.

She folded up the screen on a video phone, dialling a connection to Sicily. The person at the other end picked up in the middle of the first ring.

‘Belinda, my dear. Is it you?’

The man who had answered was in his late forties, with Latin good looks and grey-streaked black hair framing his tanned face. He wore a white lab coat over an open-necked, striped Versace shirt.

‘Yes, Papa. It’s me. Don’t worry, I am safe.’

Opal’s voice was layered with the hypnotic mesmer. The poor human was utterly in her power, as he had been for over a month.

‘When are you coming home, my dear? I miss you.’

‘Today, Papa, in a few hours. How is everything there?’

The man smiled dreamily. ‘Molto bene. Wonderful. The weather is fine. We can take a drive to the mountains. Perhaps I can teach you to ski.’

Opal frowned impatiently. ‘Listen to me, idiota. . Papa. How is everything with the probe? Are we on schedule?’

For a moment, a flash of annoyance wrinkled the Italian’s brow, then he was bewitched again.

‘Yes, my dear. Everything is on schedule. The explosive pods are being buried today. The probe’s systems check was a resounding success.’

Opal clapped her hands, the picture of a delighted daughter. ‘Excellent, Papa. You are so good to your little Belinda. I will be with you soon.’

‘Hurry home, my dear,’ said the man, who seemed to be utterly lost without the creature he believed to be his daughter.

Opal ended the call. ‘Fool,’ she said contemptuously. But Giovanni Zito would be allowed to live — at least until the probe he was constructing to her specifications punctured the Lower Elements.

Now that she had spoken to Zito, Opal was eager to concentrate on the probe portion of her plan. Revenge was certainly sweet, but it was also a distraction. Perhaps she should just dump these two from the shuttle and let the Earth’s magma core have them.

‘Merv,’ she barked. ‘How long to the theme park?’

Merv checked the instruments on the shuttle’s dashboard. ‘We’ve just entered the main chute network, Miss Koboi. Five hours,’ he called over his shoulder. ‘Perhaps less.’

Five hours, mused Opal, curling in her bucket seat like a contented cat. She could spare jive hours.

Some time later, Artemis and Holly were stirring in their seats. Scant helped them back into consciousness with a couple of jolts from a buzz baton.

‘Welcome back to the land of the condemned,’ said Opal. ‘How do you like my shuttle?’

The craft was impressive, even if it was ferrying Artemis and Holly to their deaths.

The seats were covered with illegally harvested fur and the decor was plusher than your average palace. There were small entertainment hologram cubes suspended from the ceiling, in case the passengers wanted to watch a movie.

Holly began to squirm when she noticed what she was sitting on.

‘Fur! You animal!’

‘No,’ said Opal. ‘You’re sitting on the animals. As I told you, I am human now. And that is what humans do, skin animals for their own comfort. Isn’t that right, Master Fowl?’

‘Some do,’ said Artemis coolly. ‘Not me personally.’

‘Really, Artemis,’ said Opal archly. ‘I hardly think that qualifies you for sainthood.

From what I hear, you’re just as eager to exploit the People as I am.’

‘Perhaps. I don’t remember.’

Opal rose from her seat and fixed herself a light salad from the buffet.

‘Of course, they mind-wiped you. But surely you must remember now? Not even your subconscious could deny that this is happening.’

Artemis concentrated. He could remember something. Vague, out-of-focus images. Nothing very specific.

‘I do remember something.’

Opal lifted her eyes from her plate. ‘Yes?’

Artemis fixed her with a cool stare. ‘I remember how Foaly defeated you before with superior intellect. I am certain he will do it again.’

Of course Artemis had not truly remembered this, he was simply repeating what Holly had told him. But the statement had the desired effect.

‘That ridiculous centaur!’ shrieked Opal, hurling her plate against the wall. ‘He was lucky, and I was hampered by that idiot, Cudgeon. Not this time. This time I am the architect of my own fate. And of yours.’

‘And what is it this time?’ Artemis asked mockingly. ‘Another orchestrated rebellion? Or perhaps a mechanical dinosaur?’

Opal’s face grew white with rage. ‘Is there no end to your impudence, Mud Boy?

No small-scale rebellions this time. I have a grander vision. I will lead the humans to the

People. When the two worlds collide, there will be a war and my adopted people will win.’