فصل دهم

CHAPTER 10: FINGERS AND THUMBS

ARTEMIS FOWL’S CELL, THE SPIRO HEEDLE

ARTEMIS was meditating when the first laser-stroke cut through the ceiling. He rose from the lotus position, pulled his sweater back on and arranged some pillows on the floor. Moments later, a square of metal fell to the floor, its impact silenced by the cushions. Holly’s face appeared in the hole.

Artemis pointed at the pillows. ‘You anticipated me.’ The LEP captain nodded. ‘Only thirteen, and already predictable.’ ‘I presume you used the air conditioner to vacuum the smoke?’ ‘Exactly. I think we’re getting to know one another too well.’ Holly reeled a piton line from her belt, lowering it into the room.

‘Make a loop at the bottom with the clamp and hop aboard. I’ll reel you in.’ Artemis did as he was told and, in seconds, he was clambering through the hole.

‘Do we have Mister Foaly on our side?’ he asked.

Holly handed Artemis a small cylindrical earpiece. ‘Ask him yourself.’ Artemis inserted the miracle of nanotechnology.

‘Well, Foaly. Astound me.’

Below, in Haven City, the centaur rubbed his hands together. Artemis was the only one who actually understood his lectures.

‘You’re going to love this, Mud Boy. Not only have I wiped you from the video, not only did I erase the ceiling falling in, but I have created a simulated Artemis.’ Artemis was intrigued. ‘A sim? Really? How exactly did you do that?’ ‘Simple really,’ said Foaly modestly. ‘I have hundreds of human movies on file. I borrowed Steve McQueen’s solitary confinement scene from The Great Escape and altered his clothes.’ ‘What about the face?’

‘I had some digital interrogation footage from your last visit to Haven. I put the two together and voilà. Our simulated Artemis can do whatever I tell him, whenever I say. At the moment, the sim is asleep, but in half an hour I may just instruct him to go to the bathroom.’ Holly reeled in her piton cord. ‘The miracle of modern science. The LEP pours millions into your department, Foaly, and all you can do is send Mud Boys to the toilet.’ ‘You should be nice to me, Holly. I’m doing you a big favour. If Julius knew I was helping you, he’d be extremely angry.’ ‘Which is exactly why you are doing it.’

Holly moved quietly to the door, opening it a crack. The corridor was clear and silent, but for the drone of panning cameras and the hum of fluorescent lighting. One section of Holly’s visor displayed miniature transparent feeds from Spiro’s security cameras. There were six guards doing the rounds on the floor.

Holly closed the door.

‘OK. Let’s get going. We need to reach Spiro before the guards change.’ Artemis arranged the carpet over the hole in the floor. ‘Have you located his apartment?’ ‘Directly above us. We need to get up there and scan his retina and thumb.’ An expression flashed across Artemis’s face. Just for a second.

‘The scans. Yes. The sooner the better.’

Holly had never seen that look on the human boy’s features before. Was it guilt? Could it be?

‘Is there something you’re not telling me?’ she demanded.

The expression vanished, to be replaced by the customary lack of emotion.

‘No, Captain Short. Nothing. And do you really think that now is the time for an interrogation?’ Holly wagged a threatening finger. ‘Artemis. If you mess with me now, in the middle of an operation, I won’t forget it.’ ‘Don’t worry,’ said Artemis wryly. ‘I will.’

Spiro’s apartment was two floors directly above Artemis’s cell. It made sense to reinforce the same block. Unfortunately, Jon Spiro did not like the idea of anyone spying on him, so there were no cameras in his section of the building.

‘Typical,’ muttered Foaly. ‘Power-crazed megalomaniacs never like anyone to see their own dirty secrets.’ ‘I think someone’s in denial,’ said Holly, focusing a tight beam from her Neutrino at the ceiling.

A section of floating ceiling melted like ice in a kettle, revealing the steel above. Molten beads of metal ate into the carpet as the laser sliced through the flooring. When the hole was of sufficient diameter Holly shut down the beam and popped her helmet camera into the space.

Nothing appeared on the screen.

‘Switching to infrared.’

A rack of suits sprang into focus. They might have been white.

‘The wardrobe. We’re in the wardrobe.’

‘Perfect,’ said Foaly. ‘Put him to sleep.’

‘He is asleep. It’s ten to five in the morning.’

‘Well, make sure he doesn’t wake up then.’

Holly replaced the camera in its groove. She plucked a silver capsule from her belt and inserted it into the hole.

Foaly supplied the commentary for Artemis.

‘The capsule is a Sleeper Deeper, in case you’re wondering.’ ‘Gaseous?’

‘No. Brainwaves.’

Artemis was intrigued. ‘Go on.’

‘Basically it scans for brainwave patterns, then replicates them. Anyone in the vicinity stays in the state they’re in until the capsule dissolves.

‘No trace?’

‘None. And no after-effects. Whatever they’re paying me, it isn’t enough.’ Holly counted off a minute on her visor clock.

‘OK. He’s out, providing he wasn’t awake when the Sleeper Deeper went in. Let’s go.’ Spiro’s bedroom was as white as his suits, except for the charred hole in the wardrobe. Holly and Artemis climbed through on to a white shag-pile carpet with whitewood slide wardrobes. They stepped through the doors into a room that glowed in the dark. Futuristic furniture — white, of course. White spotlights and white drapes.

Holly took a moment to study a painting that dominated one wall.

‘Oh, give me a break,’ she said.

The picture was in oils. Completely white. There was a brass plaque beneath. It read ‘Snow Ghost’.

Spiro lay in the centre of a huge futon, lost in the dunes of its silk sheets.

Holly pulled back the covers, rolling him over on to his back. Even in sleep the man’s face was malevolent, as though his dreams were every bit as despicable as his waking thoughts.

‘Nice guy,’ said Holly, using her thumb to raise Spiro’s left eyelid. Her helmet camera scanned the eye, storing the information on chip. It would be a simple matter to project the file on to the vault’s scanner and fool the security computer.

The thumb scan would not be so simple. Because the device was a gel scanner, the tiny sensors would be searching for the actual ridges and whorls of Spiro’s thumb. A projection would not do. It had to be 3D.

Artemis had come up with the idea of using a memory-latex bandage, standard issue in any LEP first-aid kit — and the same latex used to glue the mike to his throat. All they had to do was wrap Spiro’s thumb in a bandage for a moment and they would have a mould of the digit. Holly spooled a bandage from her belt, tearing off a fifteen-centimetre strip.

‘It won’t work,’ said Artemis.

Holly’s heart sank. This was it. The thing that Artemis hadn’t told her.

‘What won’t work?’

‘The memory latex. It won’t fool the gel scanner.’ Holly climbed off the futon. ‘I don’t have time for this, Artemis. We don’t have time for it. The memory latex will make a perfect copy, right down to the last molecule.’ Artemis’s eyes were downcast. ‘A perfect model, true, but in reverse. Like a photo negative. Ridges where there should be grooves.’ ‘D’Arvit!’ swore Holly. The Mud Boy was right. Of course he was. The scanner would read the latex as a completely different thumbprint. Her cheeks glowed red behind the visor.

‘You knew this, Mud Boy. You knew it all along.’

Artemis didn’t bother denying it.

‘I’m amazed no one else spotted it.’

‘So why lie?’

Artemis walked round to the far side of the bed, grasping Spiro’s right hand.

‘Because there is no way to fool the gel scanner. It has to see the real thumb.’ Holly snorted. ‘What do you want me to do? Cut it off and take it with us?’ Artemis silence was response enough.

‘What? You want me to cut off his thumb? Are you insane?’ Artemis waited patiently for the outburst to pass.

‘Listen to me, Captain. It’s only a temporary measure. The thumb can be reattached. True?’ Holly raised her palms. ‘Just shut up, Artemis. Just close your mouth. And I thought you’d changed. The commander was right. There’s no changing human nature.’ ‘Four minutes,’ persisted Artemis. ‘We have four minutes to crack the vault and get back. Spiro won’t feel a thing.’ Four minutes was the textbook healing deadline. After that there were no guarantees that the thumb would take. The skin would bind, but the muscles and nerve endings could reject.

Holly felt as though her helmet were shrinking.

‘Artemis, I’ll stun you, so help me.’

‘Think, Holly. I had no choice but to lie about my plan. Would you have agreed if I had told you earlier?’ ‘No. And I’m not agreeing now!’

Artemis’s face glowed as pale as the walls. ‘You have to, Captain. There is no other way.’ Holly waved Artemis aside as though he were a persistent fly and spoke into her helmet mike.

‘Foaly, are you listening to this insanity?’

‘It sounds insane, Holly, but if you don’t get this technology back, we could lose a whole lot more than a thumb.’ ‘I can’t believe it. Whose side are you on, Foaly? I don’t even want to think about the legal ramifications of this.’ The centaur snickered. ‘Legal ramifications? We’re a tad beyond the court systems here, Captain. This is a secret operation. No records and no clearance. If this came out, we’d all be out of a job. A thumb here or there is not going to make any difference.’ Holly turned up the climate control in her helmet, directing a blast of cold air at her forehead.

‘Are you sure we can make it, Artemis?’

Artemis ran a few mental calculations. ‘Yes. I’m sure. And anyway, we have no option but to try.’ Holly crossed to the other side of the futon.

‘I can’t believe I’m even considering this.’ She lifted Spiro’s hand gently.

He did not react, not so much as a sleep murmur. Behind his eyelids, Spiro’s eyes jittered in REM sleep.

Holly drew her weapon. Of course, in theory, it was perfectly feasible to remove a digit and then magically reattach it. There would be no harm done, and quite possibly the injection of magic would clear up a few of the liver spots on Spiro’s hand. But that wasn’t the point. This was not how magic was supposed to be used. Artemis was manipulating the People to his own ends, once again.

‘Fifteen-centimetre beam,’ said Foaly in her ear. ‘Very high frequency.

We need a clean cut. And give him a shot of magic while you’re doing it.

It might buy you a couple of minutes.’

For some reason, Artemis was checking behind Spiro’s ears.

‘Hmm,’ he said. ‘Clever.’

‘What?’ hissed Holly. ‘What now?’

Artemis stepped back. ‘Nothing important. Continue.’ A red glow reflected from Holly’s visor as a short, concentrated laser beam erupted from the nozzle of her Neutrino.

‘One cut,’ said Artemis. ‘Clean.’

Holly glared at him. ‘Don’t, Mud Boy. Not a word. Especially not advice.’ Artemis backed off. Certain battles were won by retreating.

Using her left thumb and forefinger, Holly made a circle round Spiro’s thumb. She sent a gentle pulse of magic into the human’s hand. In seconds the skin tightened, lines disappeared and muscle tone returned.

‘Filter,’ she said into her mike. ‘X-ray.’

The filter dropped and suddenly everything was transparent, including Spiro’s hand. The bones and joints were clearly visible below the skin.

They only needed the print, so she would cut between the knuckles. It would be difficult enough reattaching under pressure without adding a complex joint into the equation.

Holly took a breath and held it. The Sleeper Deeper would act more effectively than any anaesthetic. Spiro would not flinch or feel the smallest jolt of discomfort. She made the cut. A smooth cut that sealed as it went.

Not a drop of blood was spilt.

Artemis wrapped the thumb in a handkerchief from Spiro’s closet.

‘Nice work,’ he said. ‘Let’s go. The clock is ticking.’ Artemis and Holly climbed back down through the wardrobe to the eighty-fifth. There was almost a mile and a half of corridor on this floor and six guards patrolling it in pairs at any one time. Their routes were specially planned so that one pair could always have an eyeball-sighting of the vault door. The vault corridor was a hundred metres long and took eighty seconds to travel. At the end of that eighty seconds, the next pair of guards stepped round the corner. Luckily, two of the guards were seeing things in a different light this particular morning.

Foaly gave them their cue. ‘OK. Our boys are approaching their corner.’ ‘Are you sure it’s them? These gorillas all look the same. Small heads, no necks.’ ‘I’m sure. Their targets are showing up bright and clear.’ Holly had painted Pex and Chips with a stamp generally used by customs and immigration for invisible visas. The stamps glowed orange when viewed through an infrared filter.

Holly pushed Artemis out the door in front of her. ‘OK. Go. And no sarcastic comments.’ There was no need for the warning. Even Artemis Fowl was not inclined to be sarcastic at such a dangerous stage of the operation.

He ran down the corridor straight towards the two mammoth security guards. Their jackets protruded angularly beneath their armpits. Guns, no doubt. Big ones, with lots of bullets.

‘Are you sure they’re mesmerized?’ he asked Holly, who was hovering overhead.

‘Of course. Their minds are so blank it was like writing with chalk on a board. But I could stun them if you’d prefer.’ ‘No,’ panted Artemis. ‘No trace. There must be no trace.’ Pex and Chips were closer now, discussing the merits of various fictional characters.

‘Captain Hook rocks,’ said Pex. ‘He would kick Barney’s purple butt ten times out often.’ Chips sighed. ‘You’re missing the whole point of Barney. It’s a values thing. Butt-kicking is not the issue.’ They walked right past Artemis without seeing him. And why would they see him? Holly had mesmerized them not to notice anybody out of the ordinary on this floor, unless they were specifically pointed out to them.

The outer security booth lay before them. There were approximately forty seconds left before the next set of guards turned the corner. The unmesmerized set.

‘Just over half a minute, Holly. You know what to do.’ Holly turned up the thermo coils in her suit so they were exactly at room temperature. This would fool the lattice of lasers that criss-crossed the vault’s entrance. Next she set her wings to a gentle hover. Any more downdraughts could activate the pressure pad underfoot. She pulled herself forward, finding purchase along the wall where her helmet told her no sensors were hidden. The pressure pad trembled from the air displacement, but not enough to activate the sensor.

Artemis watched her progress impatiently.

‘Hurry, Holly. Twenty seconds.’

Holly grunted something unprintable, dragging herself to within touching distance of the door.

‘Video File Spiro 3,’ she said, and her helmet computer ran the footage of Jon Spiro punching in the vault door code. She mimicked his actions and, inside the steel door, six reinforced pistons retracted, allowing the counterweighted door to swing wide on its hinges. All external alarms were automatically shut off. The secondary door stood firm, three red lights burning on its panel. Only three barriers left now. The gel pad, the retina scan and voice activation.

This kind of operation was too complicated for voice command. Foaly’s computers had been known to misinterpret orders, even though the centaur insisted it was fairy error. Holly ripped back the Velcro strap covering the helmet command-pad on her wrist.

First, she projected a 3D image of Spiro’s eyeball to a height of five foot six. The retina scanner sent out a revolving beam to read the virtual eyeball. Apparently satisfied, it disabled the first lock. A red light switched to green.

The next step was to call up the appropriate soundwave file to trick the voice check. The equipment was very sophisticated, and could not be fooled by a recording. A human recording, that is. Foaly’s digital mikes made copies that were indistinguishable from the real thing. Even stink worms, whose entire bodies were covered with ears, could be attracted by a worm-mating hiss from Foaly’s recording equipment. He was currently in negotiation with a bug-collection agency for the patent.

Holly played the file through her helmet speakers. ‘Jon Spiro. I am the boss, so open up quick.’ Alarm number two disengaged. Another green light.

‘Excuse me, Captain,’ said Artemis, an undercurrent of apprehension creeping into his voice. ‘We’re almost out of time.’ He unwrapped the thumb and stepped past Holly, on to the red floor plate.

Artemis pressed the thumb into the scanner. Green gel oozed into the severed digit’s whorls. The alarm display flashed green. It had worked. Of course it had. The thumb was genuine, after all.

But nothing else happened. The door did not open.

Holly punched Artemis in the shoulder.

‘Well? Are we in?’

‘Apparently not. The punching is not helping my concentration, by the way.’ Artemis glared at the console. What had he missed? Think, boy, think. Put those famed brain cells to work. He leaned closer to the secondary door, shifting his weight from his back leg. Beneath him, the red plate squeaked.

‘Of course!’ exclaimed Artemis. He grabbed Holly, hugging her close.

‘It’s not just a red marker,’ he explained hurriedly. ‘It’s weight-sensitive.’ Artemis was right. Their combined mass was close enough to Spiro’s own to hoodwink the scales. Obviously a mechanical device, a computer would never have been fooled. The secondary door slid into its groove below their feet.

Artemis handed Holly the thumb.

‘Go,’ he said. ‘Spiro’s time is running out. I’m right behind you.’ Holly took the thumb. ‘And if you’re not?’

‘Then we go to Plan B.’

Holly nodded slowly. ‘Let’s hope we don’t have to.’ ‘Let’s hope.’

Artemis strode into the vault. He ignored the fortune in jewels and bearer bonds, heading straight for the Cube’s perspex prison. There were two bullish security guards blocking the way. Both men had oxygen masks strapped over their faces and were unnaturally still.

‘Excuse me, gentlemen. Would either of you mind if I borrowed Mister Spiro’s Cube?’ Neither man responded. Not so much as a flicker of an eyebrow. This was undoubtedly because of the paralytic gas in their oxygen tanks, concocted from the venom of a nest of Peruvian spiders. The gas was similar in chemical make-up to a salve used by South-American natives as an anaesthetic.

Artemis keyed in the code, which Foaly was reciting in his ear, and the four sides of the perspex box descended into the column on silent motors, leaving the C Cube unprotected. He reached out a hand for the box . . .

SPIRO’S BEDROOM

Holly climbed through the wardrobe into Spiro’s bedroom. The industrialist lay in the same position she had left him, his breathing regular and normal. The stopwatch on Holly’s visor read 4:57 a.m. and counting.

Just in time.

Holly unwrapped the thumb gingerly, aligning it with the rest of the digit.

Spiro’s hand felt cold and unhealthy to her touch. She used the magnification filter in her visor to zoom in on the severed thumb. As close as she could figure, the two halves were lined up.

‘Heal,’ she said, and the magical sparks erupted from the tips of her fingers, sinking into the two halves of Spiro’s thumb. Threads of blue light stitched the dermis and epidermis together, fresh skin breaking through the old to conceal the cut. The thumb began to vibrate and bubble. Steam vented from the pores forming a mist around Spiro’s hand. His arm shook violently, the shock travelling across his bony chest. Spiro’s back arched until Holly thought it would snap, then the industrialist collapsed back on to the bed. Throughout the entire process, his heart never skipped a beat.

A few stray sparks skipped along Spiro’s body like stones on a pond, targeting the areas behind both ears, exactly where Artemis had been looking earlier. Curious. Holly pulled back one ear to reveal a crescent-shaped scar, rapidly being erased by the magic. There was a matching scar behind the other ear.

Holly used her visor to zoom in on one of the scars.

‘Foaly. What do you make of these?’

‘Surgery,’ replied the centaur. ‘Maybe our friend Spiro got himself a facelift. Or maybe . . .’ ‘Or maybe it’s not Spiro,’ completed Holly, switching to Artemis’s channel. ‘Artemis. It’s not Spiro. It’s a double. Do you hear me? Respond, Artemis.’ Artemis didn’t reply. Maybe because he wouldn’t; maybe because he couldn’t.

THE VAULT

Artemis reached out a hand for the box, and a false wall hissed back pneumatically. Behind it stood Jon Spiro and Arno Blunt. Spiro’s smile was so wide he could have swallowed a slice of watermelon.

He clapped his hands, jewellery jangling. ‘Bravo, Master Fowl. Some of us didn’t think you’d make it this far.’ Blunt took a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to Spiro.

‘Thank you very much, Arno. I hope this teaches you not to bet against the house.’ Artemis nodded thoughtfully. ‘In the bedroom. That was a double.’ ‘Yes. Costa, my cousin. We got the same shaped head. One or two cuts and we could be peas in a pod.’ ‘So you set the gel scanner to accept his print.’

‘For one night only. I wanted to see how far you’d get. You’re an amazing kid, Arty. No one ever made it into the vault before, and you’d be amazed how many professionals have tried. There are obviously a few glitches in my system, something the security people will have to look at. How did you get in here anyway? You don’t appear to have Costa with you.’ ‘Trade secret.’

Spiro stepped down from a low platform. ‘No matter. We’ll review the tapes. There are bound to be a couple of cameras you couldn’t rig. One thing is for sure; you didn’t do it without help. Check him for an earpiece, Arno.’ It took Blunt less than five seconds to find the earpiece. He plucked it out triumphantly, crushing the tiny cylinder beneath his boot.

Spiro sighed. ‘I have no doubt, Arno, that that little electronic wonder was worth more than you will make in a lifetime. I don’t know why I keep you around. I really don’t.’ Blunt grimaced. This set of teeth was perspex, half-filled with blue oil. A macabre wave machine.

‘Sorry, Mister Spiro.’

‘You will be sorrier still, my dentally challenged friend,’ said Artemis, ‘because Butler is coming.’

Blunt took an involuntary step backwards.

‘Don’t think that mumbo jumbo is scaring me. Butler is dead. I saw him go down.’ ‘Go down, perhaps. But did you see him die? If I remember the sequence of events correctly, after you shot Butler, he shot you.’ Blunt touched the sutures on his temple. ‘A lucky shot.’ ‘Lucky? Butler is a proud marksman. I wouldn’t say that to his face.’ Spiro laughed delightedly. ‘The kid is messing with your mind, Arno.

Thirteen years old and he’s playing you like a grand piano in Carnegie Hall. Get yourself a spine, man; you’re supposed to be a professional.’ Blunt tried to pull himself together, but the ghost of Butler haunted his features.

Spiro plucked the C Cube from its cushion. ‘This is fun, Arty. All this tough talk and repartee, but it doesn’t mean anything. I win again; you’ve been outflanked. This has all been a game to me. Amusement. Your little operation has been most educational, if pathetic. But you gotta realize that it’s over now. You’re on your own, and I don’t have time for any more games!’ Artemis sighed, the picture of defeat. ‘All of this has been a lesson, hasn’t it? Just to show me who’s boss.’ ‘Exactly. It takes some people a while to learn. I find the smarter the enemy, the bigger the ego. You had to realize that you were no match for me before you would do what I asked.’ Spiro placed a bony hand on the Irish boy’s shoulder. Artemis could feel the weight of his jewellery. ‘Now listen carefully, kid. I want you to unlock this Cube. No more blarney. I never met a computer nerd yet who didn’t leave himself a back door. You open this baby up now, or I’m gonna stop being amused, and, believe me, you don’t want that.’ Artemis took the red Cube in both hands, staring at its flat screen. This was the delicate phase of his plan. Spiro had to believe that once again he had outmanoeuvred Artemis Fowl.

‘Do it, Arty. Do it now.’

Artemis ran a hand across his dry lips.

‘Very well. I need a minute.’

Spiro patted his shoulder. ‘I’m a generous man. Take two.’ He nodded at Blunt. ‘Stay close, Arno. I don’t want our little friend setting any more booby traps.’ Artemis sat at the stainless-steel table, exposing the Cube’s inner workings. He quickly manipulated a complicated bunch of fibre optics, removing one strand altogether. The LEP blocker. After less than a minute he resealed the Cube.

Spiro’s eyes were wide with anticipation, and dreams of unlimited wealth danced in his brain.

‘Good news, Arty. I want good news only.’

Artemis was more subdued now, as if the reality of his situation had finally eaten through his cockiness.

‘I rebooted it. It’s working. Except . . .’

Spiro waved his hands. Bracelets jingled like cat bells. ‘Except! This better be an itty bitty except kinda thing.’ ‘It’s nothing. Hardly worth mentioning. I had to revert to version 1.0; version 1.2 was coded strictly to my voice patterns. 1.0 is less secure, if a bit more temperamental.’ ‘Temperamental. You’re a box, not my grandmother, Cube.’ ‘I am not a box!’ said Foaly, the Cube’s new voice, thanks to the removed blocker. ‘I am a marvel of artificial intelligence. I live therefore I learn.’ ‘See what I mean?’ said Artemis weakly. The centaur was going to blow it. Spiro’s suspicions must not be aroused at this stage.

Spiro glared at the Cube, as though it were an underling.

‘Are you gonna give me attitude, mister?’

The Cube did not reply.

‘You have to address it by name,’ explained Artemis. ‘Otherwise it would answer every question within hearing distance of its sensors.’ ‘And what is its name?’

Juliet often used the term ‘duh’. Artemis would not use such colloquialisms himself, but it would be apt at this particular moment.

‘Its name is Cube.’

‘OK, Cube. Are you going to give me attitude?’

‘I will give you whatever is in my processor’s capacity to give.’ Spiro rubbed his palms with childish glee, jewellery flashing like ripples in a sunset sea.

‘OK, let’s try this baby out. Cube, can you tell me -are there any satellites monitoring the building?’ Foaly was silent for a moment. Artemis could imagine him calling up his Sat-track information on a screen.

‘Just one at the moment, though, judging from the ion trails, this building has been hit with more rays than the Millennium Falcon.’ Spiro shot Artemis a glance.

‘His personality chip is faulty,’ explained the boy. ‘That’s why I discontinued him, it. We can fix that at any time.’ Spiro nodded. He didn’t want his very own technological genie growing the personality of a gorilla.

‘What about that group, the LEP, Cube?’ he asked. ‘They were monitoring me in London. Are they watching?’ ‘The LEP? That’s a Lebanese satellite TV network,’ said Foaly, following Artemis’s instructions. ‘Game shows mostly. Their footprint doesn’t reach this far.’ ‘OK, forget about them, Cube. I need to know that satellite’s serial number.’ Foaly consulted a screen.

‘Ah . . . Let me see. US, registered to the federal government. Number ST1147P.’ Spiro clenched both fists. ‘Yes! Correct. I happen to already have that information myself. Cube, you have passed my test.’ The billionaire danced around the laboratory, reduced to childish displays by his greed.

‘I’m telling you, Arty, this has taken years off me! I feel like putting on a tuxedo and going to the prom.’ ‘Indeed.’

‘I don’t know where to start. Should I make my own money? Or should I rip off somebody else’s?’ Artemis forced a smile. ‘The world is your oyster.’ Spiro patted the Cube gently. ‘Exactly. That’s exactly what it is. And I’m going to take every pearl it has to offer.’ Pex and Chips arrived at the vault door, guns drawn.

‘Mister Spiro!’ stammered Pex. ‘Is this some kind of drill?’ Spiro laughed. ‘Oh, look. Here comes the cavalry. An eternity too late.

No, this is not a drill. And I would dearly love to know how little Artemis here got past you two!’ The hired muscle stared at Artemis as though he had just appeared from nowhere. Which, for their mesmerized brains, he had.

‘We don’t know, Mister Spiro. We never saw him. Do you want us to take him outside for a little accident?’ Spiro laughed, a short nasty bark. ‘I gotta new word for you two dumb-bells. Expendable . You are and he isn’t, just yet. Get it? So just stand there and look dangerous, otherwise I may replace you with two shaved gorillas.’ Spiro gazed into the Cube’s screen, as though there were nobody else in the room. ‘I reckon I’ve got twenty years left in me. After that the world can go to hell as far as I’m concerned. I don’t have any family, no heirs.

There’s no need to build for the future. I’m going to suck this planet dry, and with this Cube I can do whatever I want to whoever I want.’ ‘I know the first thing I’d do,’ said Pex. His eyes seemed surprised that the words were coming out of his mouth.

Spiro froze. He wasn’t used to being interrupted in mid-rant.

‘What would you do, dumb-bell?’ he said. ‘Buy yourself a booth at Merv’s Rib ‘n’ Roast?’ ‘No,’ said Pex. ‘I’d stick it to those Phonetix guys. They’ve been rubbing Spiro Industries’ nose in it for years.’ It was an electric moment. Not only because Pex had actually had an idea, but because it was actually a good one.

The notion lit a thoughtful spark in Spiro’s eyes.

‘Phonetix. My biggest competitors. I hate those guys. Nothing would give me greater satisfaction than to destroy that bunch of second-rate phone freaks. But how?’ Now it was Chips’ turn. ‘I hear they’re working on a new top-secret communicator. Super-life battery, or something.’ Spiro did a double take. First Pex, now Chips? Next thing you knew they’d be learning to read. Nevertheless . . .

‘Cube,’ said Spiro, ‘I want you to access the Phonetix database. Copy the schematics for all their projects in development.’ ‘No can do, boss man. Phonetix is operating on a closed system. No Internet connection whatsoever in its R & D department. I have to be on-site.’ Spiro’s euphoria disappeared. He rounded on Artemis.

‘What is he talking about?’

Artemis coughed, clearing his throat. ‘The Cube cannot scan a closed system unless the omni-sensor is actually touching the computer or, at least, close by. Phonetix is so paranoid about hackers that the research and development lab is completely contained, buried under several floors of solid rock. They don’t even have e-mail. I know because I’ve tried to hack it myself a few times.’ ‘But the Cube scanned the satellite, didn’t it?’

‘The satellite is broadcasting. And if it’s broadcasting, the Cube can trace it.’ Spiro toyed with the links of his ID chain. ‘So, I’d have to go to Phonetix.’ ‘I wouldn’t recommend it,’ said Artemis. ‘It’s a lot to risk for the sake of a personal vendetta.’ Blunt stepped forward. ‘Let me go, Mister Spiro. I’ll get those plans.’ Spiro chewed on a handful of vitamin supplements from a dispenser on his belt.

‘It’s a nice idea, Arno. Good work. But I am reluctant to hand control of the Cube over to anyone else. Who knows what temptation they might yield to? Cube, can you disable the Phonetix alarm system?’ ‘Can a dwarf blow a hole in his pants?’

‘What was that?’

‘Eh . . . Nothing. Technical term. You wouldn’t understand it. I have already disabled the Phonetix system.’ ‘What about the guards, Cube? Can you disable them?’ ‘No problemo. I could remote-activate the internal security measure.’ ‘Which is?’

‘Tanks of vapour inside the air vents. Sleeping gas. Illegal, by the way, according to Chicago State Law. But clever, no after-effects, untraceable.

The intruder comes to in lock-up two hours later.’ Spiro cackled. ‘Those paranoid Phonetix boys. Go ahead, Cube, knock ‘em out.’

‘Night night,’ said Foaly, with a glee that seemed all too real.

‘Good. Now, Cube, all that stands between us and the Phonetix blueprints is an encrypted computer.’ ‘Don’t make me laugh. They haven’t invented a unit of time short enough to measure how long it will take me to crack the Phonetix hard disk.’ Spiro clipped the Cube on to his belt. ‘You know something? I’m starting to like this guy.’ Artemis made one last sincere-sounding attempt to contain the situation.

‘Mister Spiro, I really don’t think that this is a good idea.’ ‘Of course you don’t,’ laughed Jon Spiro, jangling towards the door.

‘That’s why I’m bringing you along.’

PHONETIX RESEARCH & DEVELOPMENT

LABORATORIES, CHICAGO’S INOUSTRIAL SECTOR

Spiro selected a Lincoln Town Car from his extensive garage. It was a nineties model, with fake registration. He often used it as a getaway vehicle. It was old enough to be unremarkable, and even if the police did get a shot of the plates, it wouldn’t lead them anywhere.

Blunt parked opposite the Phonetix R & D lab’s main entrance. A security guard was visible at his desk behind the glass revolving door. Arno pulled a pair of fold-up binoculars from the glove compartment. He focused on the guard.

‘Sleeping like a baby,’ he announced.

Spiro clapped him on the shoulder.

‘Good. We have less than two hours. Can we do it?’ ‘If this Cube is as good as it says it is, then we can be in and out in fifteen minutes.’ ‘It’s a machine,’ said Artemis coldly. ‘Not one of your steroid-munching associates.’ Blunt glanced over his shoulder. Artemis sat in the back seat, squashed between Pex and Chips.

‘You’re very brave all of a sudden.’

Artemis shrugged. ‘What have I got to lose? After all, things can hardly get worse.’ There was a normal door beside the revolving one. The Cube remote-activated the buzzer, admitting the band of intruders to the lobby. No alarms sounded, and no platoon of security guards came rushing to detain them.

Spiro strode down the corridor, emboldened by his new-found technological friend and the thought of finally putting Phonetix out of business. The security lift put up no more resistance to the Cube than a picket fence would to a tank, and soon Spiro and Co. were riding the eight floors down to the sunken laboratory.

‘We’re going underground,’ chortled Pex. ‘Down where the dinosaur bones are. Did you know that after a million billion years dinosaur dung turns into diamonds?’ Usually a comment like that would have been a shootable offence, but Spiro was in a good mood.

‘No, I didn’t know that, Pex. Maybe I should pay your wages in dung.’ Pex decided that it would be better for his finances if he just kept his mouth shut from then on.

The lab itself was protected by a thumbprint scanner. Not even gel. It was a simple matter for the Cube to scan the fingerprint on the plate then project it back on to the sensor. There wasn’t even a key-code back-up.

‘Easy,’ crowed Spiro. ‘I should have done this years ago.’ ‘A little credit would be nice,’ said Foaly, unable to hide his pique. ‘After all, I did get us in here and disable the guards.’ Spiro held the box before him. ‘Not crushing you into scrap metal, Cube, is my way of saying thank you.’ ‘You’re welcome,’ grumbled Foaly.

Arno Blunt checked the security monitor bank. Throughout the facility, guards lay unconscious, one with half a rye sandwich stuffed in his mouth.

‘I gotta admit it, Mister Spiro. This is beautiful. Phonetix is even gonna have to foot the bill for the sleeping gas.’ Spiro glanced towards the ceiling. Several camera lights winked red in the shadows.

‘Cube, are we gonna have to raid the video room on our way out?’ ‘It ain’t gonna happen,’ said Foaly, the method actor. ‘I wiped your patterns from the video.’ Artemis was suspended by the armpits between Pex and Chips.

‘Traitor,’ he muttered. ‘I gave you life, Cube. I am your creator.’ ‘Yeah, well, maybe you made me too much like you, Fowl, aurum potestas est. Gold is power. I’m just doing what you taught me.’ Spiro patted the Cube fondly. ‘I love this guy. He’s like the brother I never had.’ ‘I thought you had a brother?’ said Chips, puzzled, which was not unusual for him.

‘OK,’ said Spiro. ‘He’s like a brother I actually like.’ The Phonetix server was located in the centre of the lab. A monolithic hard drive, with python-like cables rippling out to various workstations.

Spiro undipped his new best friend from his belt.

‘Where do you need to be, Cube?’

‘Just pop me down on the lid of the server, and my omni-sensor will do the rest.’ Spiro complied and, in seconds, schematics were flickering across the C Cube’s tiny screen.

‘I have them,’ crowed Spiro, his hands two fists of triumph. ‘That’s the last snide e-mail with stock prices I get from these guys.’ ‘Download complete,’ said Foaly smugly. ‘We have every Phonetix project for the next decade.’ Spiro cradled the Cube against his chest.

‘Beautiful. I can launch our version of the Phonetix phone before they do, make myself a few extra million before I release the Cube.’ Arno’s attention was focused on the security monitors.

‘Eh, Mister Spiro. I think we have a situation here.’ ‘A situation?’ growled Spiro. ‘What does that mean? You’re not a soldier any more, Blunt. Speak English.’ The New Zealander tapped a screen as if that would change what he was seeing.

‘I mean, we have a problem. A big problem.’

Spiro grabbed Artemis by the shoulders.

‘What have you done, Fowl? Is this some kind of . . .?’ The accusation died before it could be completed. Spiro had noticed something.

‘Your eyes. What’s wrong with your eyes? They don’t match.’ Artemis treated him to his best vampire smile.

‘All the better to see you with, Spiro.’

In the Phonetix lobby, the sleeping security guard suddenly regained her senses. It was Juliet. She peeped out from under the brim of a borrowed cap to make sure Spiro had not left anyone in the corridor.

Following Artemis’s capture in Spiro’s vault, Holly had flown them both to Phonetix to initiate Plan B.

Of course, there had been no sleeping gas. For that matter there had only been two guards. One was taking a restroom break and the other was doing the rounds of the upper floors. Still, Spiro wasn’t to know that. He was busy watching Foaly’s family of sim security snoring all over the building, thanks to a video clip on the Phonetix system.

Juliet lifted the desk phone and dialled three numbers.

9 . . . 1 . . . 1

Spiro reached two fingers delicately into Artemis’s eye, plucking out the iris-cam. He studied it closely, noting the microcircuitry on the concave side.

‘This is electronic,’ he whispered. ‘Amazing. What is it?’ Artemis blinked a tear from his eye. ‘It’s nothing. It was never here. Just as I was never here.’ Spiro’s face twisted in sheer hatred. ‘You were here all right, Fowl, and you’ll never leave here.’ Blunt tapped his employer on the shoulder. An act of unforgivable familiarity.

‘Boss, Mister Spiro. You really need to see this.’ *

Juliet stripped off her Phonetix Security jacket. Underneath she wore a Chicago PD SWAT uniform. Things could get hairy in the R & D Lab, and it was her job to make sure that Artemis did not get hurt. She hid behind a pillar in the lobby and waited for the sirens.

Spiro stared at the lab’s security monitors. The pictures had changed.

There were no more guards slumbering around the facility. Instead, the screens played a tape of Spiro and his cronies breaking into Phonetix.

With one crucial difference: there was no trace of Artemis on the screen.

‘What’s happening, Cube?’ spluttered Spiro. ‘You said that we’d all be wiped from the tapes.’ ‘I lied. It must be the criminal personality I’m developing.’ Spiro smashed the Cube against the floor. It remained intact.

‘Tough polymer,’ said Artemis, picking up the microcomputer. ‘Almost unbreakable.’ ‘Unlike you,’ retorted Spiro.

Artemis looked like a doll between Pex and Chips. ‘Don’t you understand yet? You’re all on tape. The Cube was working for me.’ ‘Big deal. So we’re on tape. All I have to do is pay the security booth a visit and take the recordings.’ ‘It’s not going to be that simple.’

Spiro still believed that there was a way out.

‘And why not? Who’s gonna stop me? Little old you?’ Artemis pointed to the screens. ‘No. Little old them.’ The Chicago PD brought everything they had, and a few things they had to borrow. Phonetix was the city’s biggest single employer, not to mention one of the top five subscribers to the Police Benevolent Fund. When the 911 call came in the duty sergeant put out a citywide summons.

In less than five minutes there were twenty uniforms and a full SWAT team beating on the Phonetix doors. Two choppers hovered overhead and eight snipers lined the roofs of the adjacent buildings. No one was leaving the area, unless they were invisible.

The Phonetix security guard had returned from his rounds and just noticed the intruders on the monitors. Shortly after that he noticed a group of Chicago PD uniforms tapping the door with their gun barrels.

He buzzed them in. ‘I was just about to call you guys,’ he said. ‘There’s a buncha intruders in the vault. They musta tunnelled in or somethin’, ‘cause they didn’t come past me.’

The security guard on a restroom break was even more surprised. He was just finishing off the sports section of the Herald Tribune when two very serious-looking men in body armour burst into the cubicle.

‘ID?’ growled one, who apparently did not have the time for full sentences.

The security guard held up his laminated card with a shaking hand.

‘Stay put, sir,’ advised the other police officer. He didn’t have to say it twice.

Juliet slipped out from behind the pillar, joining the ranks of the SWAT team. She pointed her gun and roared with the best of them, and was instantly assimilated into the group. Their assault was cut short by a tiny problem. There was only one access-point to the lab. The lift shaft.

Two officers prised open the lift door with crowbars.

‘Here’s our dilemma,’ said one. ‘We cut the power, then we can’t get the lift up here. If we call the lift up here first, then we tip off our intruders.’ Juliet shouldered herself to the front of the group.

‘Excuse me, sir. Let me go down on the cables. I blow the doors and you cut the power.’ The commander did not even consider it. ‘No. Too dangerous. The intruders would have plenty of time to put a hundred rounds into the lift.

Who are you anyway?’

Juliet took a small gripper from her belt. She clipped it on to the lift cable and hopped into the shaft.

‘I’m new,’ she said, disappearing into the blackness.

*

In the laboratory, Spiro and Co. were hypnotized by the monitors. Foaly had allowed the screens to show what was actually happening on the upper levels.

‘SWAT,’ said Blunt. ‘Helicopters. Heavy armament. How did this happen?’ Spiro smacked his own forehead repeatedly.

‘A set-up. This entire thing. A set-up. I suppose Mo Digence was working for you too?’ ‘Yes. Pex and Chips too, even if they didn’t know it. You would never have come here if I’d suggested it.’ ‘But how? How did you do this? It’s not possible.’ Artemis glanced at the monitors. ‘Obviously it is. I knew you would be waiting for me in the Spiro Needle vault. After that, all I had to do was use your own hatred of Phonetix to lure you here, out of your environment.’ ‘If I go down, so do you.’

‘Incorrect. I was never here. The tapes will prove it.’ ‘But you are here!’ roared Spiro, his nerves shot. His whole body vibrated and spittle sprayed from his lips in a wide arc. ‘Your dead body will prove it. Give me the gun, Arno. I’m going to shoot him.’ Blunt could not hide his disappointment, but he did as he was told. Spiro pointed the weapon with shaky hands. Pex and Chips stepped rapidly to one side. The boss was not known for his marksmanship.

‘You have taken everything from me,’ he shouted. ‘Everything.’ Artemis was strangely calm. ‘You don’t understand, Jon. It’s like I told you. I am not here.’ He paused for breath. ‘And one more thing. About my name —Artemis -you were right. In London, it is generally a female name, after the Greek goddess of archery. But every now and then a male comes along with such a talent for hunting that he earns the right to use the name. I am that male. Artemis the hunter. I hunted you.’ And just like that, he disappeared.

Holly had been hovering above Spiro and Co. all the way from the Spiro Needle to the Phonetix building. She had got permission to enter the facility minutes earlier when Juliet had called to enquire about the public tours.

Juliet had put on her best cutesy voice for the security guide.

‘Hey, mister, is it OK if I bring my invisible friend?’ ‘Sure it is, honey,’ replied the guide. ‘Bring your security blanket too, if it makes you happy.’ They were in.

Holly hovered at ceiling level, following Artemis’s progress below. The Mud Boy’s plan was fraught with risk. If Spiro decided to shoot him in the Needle, then it was all over.

But no, just as Artemis predicted, Spiro had opted to gloat for as long as possible, basking in the glow of his own demented genius. But, of course, it wasn’t his own genius. It was Artemis’s. The boy had orchestrated this whole operation from beginning to end. It had even been his idea to mesmerize Pex and Chips. It was crucial that they plant the idea to invade Phonetix.

Holly was ready when the lift door opened. She had her weapon charged and targets selected. But she couldn’t go. Wait for the signal.

Artemis dragged it out. Melodramatic to the end. And then, just when Holly was about to disregard her orders and start blasting, he spoke.

‘I am that male. Artemis the hunter. I hunted you.’ Artemis the hunter. The signal.

Holly squeezed the manual throttle on her wing rig and descended, stopping short a metre from the ground. She clipped Artemis on to a retractable cord on her Moonbelt, then dropped a sheet of cam foil in front of him. To everybody in the room, it would seem as though the boy had disappeared.

‘Up we go,’ she said, though Artemis could not hear her, and opened the throttle wide. In under a second they were nestled safely among the cables and ducts that ran along the ceiling.

Below them, Jon Spiro lost his mind.

Spiro blinked. The boy had gone! Just gone! It couldn’t be. He was Jon Spiro! Nobody outsmarted Jon Spiro!

He turned to Pex and Chips, gesticulating wildly with the gun.

‘Where is he?’

‘Huh?’ said the bodyguards, in perfect unison. Unrehearsed.

‘Where is Artemis Fowl? What did you do with him?’ ‘Nothing, Mister Spiro. We were just standing here playing the shoulder game.’ ‘Fowl said you were working for him. So hand him over.’ Pex’s brain was churning. This was an operation akin to a food blender mixing concrete.

‘Careful, Mister Spiro, guns are dangerous. Especially the end with the hole.’ ‘This isn’t over, Artemis Fowl,’ Spiro roared at the ceiling. ‘I will find you. I will never give up. You’ve got Jon Spiro’s word on it. My word!’ He began to fire random shots, blowing holes in monitors, vents and conduits. One even came within a metre of Artemis.

Pex and Chips were not quite sure what was going on, but decided that it might be a good idea to join in the fun. They pulled out their weapons and began shooting up the lab.

Blunt did not get involved. He considered his employment contract terminated. There was no way out of this for Spiro — it was every man for himself. He crossed to the wall’s metal panelling and began to dismantle it with a power screwdriver. A section dropped from its casing, behind it a five-centimetre cable space, then solid concrete. They were trapped.

Behind him, the lift door dinged.

Juliet was crouched in the lift shaft.

‘We’re clear,’ said Holly in her earpiece. ‘But Spiro is shooting up the lab.’ Juliet frowned. Her principal was in danger. ‘Knock them out with the Neutrino.’ ‘I can’t. If Spiro is unconscious when the police arrive, he could claim a frame-up.’ ‘OK. I’m going in.’

‘Negative. Wait for SWAT.’

‘No. You take out the weapons. I’ll handle the rest.’ Mulch had given Juliet a bottle of dwarf rock polish. She poured a little puddle on the lift roof and it dissolved like fat on a pan. Juliet hopped into the carriage, crouching low in case Blunt decided to put a few rounds into the lift.

‘On three.’

‘Juliet.’

‘I’m going on three.’

‘OK.’

Juliet reached up to the door-open button. ‘One.’ Holly drew her Neutrino, locking all four targets into her visor’s targeting system.

‘Two.’ She unshielded for accuracy, the vibration would throw her aim right off. For a few seconds she would have to hide behind the foil with Artemis.

‘Three.’

Juliet pressed the button.

Holly squeezed off four shots.

Artemis had less than a minute to make his move. Less than a minute while Holly targeted and disarmed Spiro and Co. The circumstances were hardly ideal — screaming, gunfire and general mayhem. But then again, what better time to implement the final step in this stage of the plan? A very vital step.

The second Holly unshielded to fire, Artemis scrolled out a perspex keyboard from the C Cube’s base and began to type. In seconds, he had hacked into Spiro’s bank accounts — all thirty-seven of them, in institutions from the Isle of Man to the Cavmans. The various account numbers locked into place. He had access to each secret fund.

The Cube quickly ran a tot on the total funds: 2.8 billion US dollars, not counting the contents of various safety deposit boxes, which could not be touched over the Net. 2.8 billion dollars. Plenty to restore the Fowl’s status as one of the top five richest Irish families.

Just as he was about to complete the transaction Artemis remembered his father’s words. His father, returned to him by the fairy folk . . .

. . . And what about you, Arty? Will you make the journey with me? When the moment comes will you take your chance to be a hero? . . .’ Did he really need billions of dollars?

Of course I need it. aurum potestas est. Gold is power.

Really? Will you take your chance to be a hero? To make a difference?

Because he could not groan aloud, Artemis rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth. Well, if he was going to be a hero, he would be a well paid one. He quickly deducted a ten per cent finder’s fee from the 2.8 billion, then sent the rest to Amnesty International. He made the transaction irreversible, in case he weakened later on.

Artemis wasn’t finished yet. There was one more good deed to be attended to. The success of this venture depended on Foaly being too busy watching the show to notice Artemis hacking into his system.

He brought up the LEP site and set the code breaker working on a password. It took ten valuable seconds per character, but he was soon flying around LEP micro-sites. Artemis found what he needed on Perp Profiles. Mulch Diggums’s complete arrest record. From there, it was a simple matter to follow the electron trail back to the original search warrant for Mulch’s dwelling. Artemis changed the date on the warrant to read the day after Mulch’s arrest. This meant that all subsequent arrests and convictions were and void. A good lawyer would have him out of prison in a heartbeat.

‘I have not finished with you yet, Mulch Diggums,’ he whispered, logging out and clipping the Cube on Holly’s belt.

Juliet came through the door so fast her limbs were a blur. The jade ring trailed behind her like a fishing lure on the end of a line.

Butler would never take chances like this, she knew. He would have some perfectly practical, safe plan — which was why he had his blue diamond tattoo and she didn’t. Well, maybe she didn’t want a tattoo. Maybe she wanted a life of her own.

She quickly assessed the situation. Holly’s aim was true. The two gorillas were rubbing their scorched hands and Spiro was stamping his feet like a spoiled child. Only Blunt was on the floor, going for his gun.

Even though the bodyguard was on his hands and knees, he was still almost at her eye level.

‘Aren’t you going to give me a chance to get up?’ he asked.

‘No,’ said Juliet, whipping the jade ring around like the stone that felled Goliath. It impacted on the bridge of Blunt’s nose, cracking it and effectively blinding him for a couple of minutes. Plenty of time for the Chicago Police to get down the shaft.

Blunt was now out of the game. Juliet had expected to feel some satisfaction, but all she felt was sadness. There was no joy in violence.

Pex and Chips felt they should do something. Perhaps disabling the girl would earn them a bonus from Mister Spiro? They circled Juliet, fists raised.

Juliet wagged a finger at them. ‘Sorry, boys. You have to go to sleep.’ The bodyguards ignored her, tightening the radius of their circle.

‘I said go to sleep.’

Still no response.

‘You have to use exactly the words that I mesmerized them to respond to,’ said Holly in her ear.

Juliet sighed. ‘If I must. OK, gentlemen; Barney says go to sleep.’ Pex and Chips were snoring before they hit the ground.

That just left Spiro, and he was too busy gibbering to be any threat. He was still gibbering when the SWAT team put the cuffs on him.

‘I’ll talk to you back at base,’ said the SWAT captain sternly to Juliet.

‘You’re a danger to your comrades and yourself.’