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CHAPTER 11: PIGEON

DROPPINGS

THE LEATHER SOUQ, FEZ MEDINA

HOLLY inflated a cham pod and suckered it to the shadowy underside of the stone balcony overlooking Fez’s leather souq. When the coast was clear, she and Artemis climbed through the tiny access portal, wiggling into the blow-up seats. Artemis’s knees knocked against his chin, clicking his teeth.

‘Like I said, you’re getting tall,’ said Holly.

Artemis blew a raven lock from his eye. ‘And hairy.’

‘Your hair was the only thing that stopped little Arty recognizing himself, so be glad of it.’ Holly had liberated the cham-pod duffel bag from the Tara lock-up along with a single Neutrino handgun and suitable disguises. Artemis wore a knee-length brown shirt and thong sandals, while Holly’s fairy characteristics were hidden by a headscarf and an abaya.

The cham pod was an old portable model and was basically a ball with a transparent outer layer that was inflated by a tank of chromo-variable gas that could change colour to imitate the background. That was about as high-tech as it got. No directional equipment, no onboard weaponry, just a one-way touch screen and two cramped seats.

‘No air filters?’ wondered Artemis.

‘Unfortunately not,’ said Holly, pulling her scarf across her nose. ‘What is that smell?’ ‘Diluted pigeon droppings,’ replied Artemis. ‘Highly acidic and, of course, plentiful. The tannery workers use it to soften the hides before dyeing them.’ The leather souq spread out below them was a spectacular sight. Huge stone vats were arranged across the courtyard in honeycomb patterns, each filled with either acidic softeners or vegetable dyes such as saffron and henna. The leather workers stood in the dye vats, soaking each skin thoroughly, including their own, and, when the hide had attained the desired hue, it was stretched on a nearby rooftop to dry.

‘People say that Henry Ford invented the production line,’ said Artemis. ‘This place has been going for six hundred years.’ The souq was enclosed by high walls painted white but mottled by dye and dust. Ochre stains spread across the ancient brick like the faded map of some exotic archipelago.

‘Why did Kronski choose the souq?’ wondered Holly. ‘The stink is almost unbearable, and I say that as a friend of Mulch Diggums.’ ‘Since birth Kronski has suffered from anosmia,’ Artemis explained. ‘He has no sense of smell. It amuses him to conduct his business here, as whoever he happens to be meeting will be virtually assaulted by the smell from the acid vats. Their concentration is shattered and his is unaffected.’ ‘Clever.’

‘Fiendishly so. The area is a tourist attraction, so many people will pass through, but none hang around for too long.’ ‘Plenty of spectators but not many witnesses.’

‘Apart from the locals, and Kronski doubtless has a dozen of those on his payroll, and they will see what he wants them to see.’ Artemis leaned forward, his nose brushing the plastic portal. ‘And here is our fiendish Extinctionist now. Right on cue.’ The souq below was thronged with leather workers and merchants, long since inured to the sharp odour of the vats. Groups of die-hard tourists flitted through, determined to capture the scene on their cameras but unwilling to suffer the heat and smells for longer than a few shutter clicks. And among them all, serene and smiling, strode Doctor Damon Kronski, dressed in a preposterous tailored camouflage suit, complete with a general’s peaked hat.

Holly was sickened by the man and how he obviously relished his surroundings.

‘Look at him. He loves this.’

Artemis did not comment. He had sold the lemur and he judged that a crime worse than Kronski’s. Instead, he searched the souq for a smaller version of himself.

‘There I am. West corner.’

Holly switched her gaze to locate young Artemis. He stood almost hidden by a huge tiled urn brimming with mint-green dye. The sinking sun was a chopped silver disc on its surface.

Artemis smiled. I remember standing in that exact spot, so the glare would distract Kronski. It is the only vat touched by the sun at this time. A little payback for the smell. Childish, perhaps, but then I was a child.

‘It looks like your memory is accurate on this occasion,’ said Holly.

Artemis couldn’t help but be relieved. His recollection had been hit-and-miss up to now.

He straightened suddenly. Hit-and-miss. How could he not have seen it? These memory malfunctions could mean only one thing.

No time to pursue that thought now. The exchange was afoot.

Artemis tapped the touch-screen with his index finger, expanding a section. Closing in on a plinth at the centre of the souq. The low stone tabletop was grooved and curved from centuries of being piled high with hides. Wet henna glistened on its surface and dribbled down its sides, like blood from a head injury.

‘There,’ said Artemis. ‘That’s where we agreed to make the exchange. Kronski lays the suitcase on the rock. I hand it over.’ ‘Him. He’s a male, and his name is Jayjay,’ said Holly, making it real.

‘I hand over Jayjay. Then we go our separate ways, simple as that. There were no complications.’ ‘Perhaps we should wait until after the handover?’

‘No. What happens afterwards is an unknown quantity. At least now we have some foreknowledge.’ Holly studied the scene with a veteran’s eye. ‘Where’s Butler?’

Artemis touched another point on the screen. It rippled slightly, flexed and enlarged his selection.

‘In that window. Watching over everything.’

The window was a high rectangle in the flaking white wall, painted black by shade and depth.

‘You think you’re invisible, don’t you, my friend?’ Holly whispered, then highlighted the window with a thumb and activated a night-vision filter. In the sudden glow of body heat, a hulking figure appeared in the window, still as stone, except for a beating heart.

‘I remember that Butler wanted to make the exchange, but I talked him out of it. He’s up there right now, fuming.’ ‘Butler fuming is not something I want to see up close.’

Artemis laid a hand on her shoulder. ‘Then don’t get too close. A distraction is all we need. I wish there had been an LEP jumpsuit in that lock-up. If you were invisible to man and machine, I would be more comfortable with this.’ Holly twisted her chin, calling her magic, and blobs of her disappeared until there was nothing left in the seat but haze.

‘Don’t worry, Artemis,’ she said, her voice sounding almost robotic because of the vibration. ‘I have been on missions before. You are not the only smart one in the souq.’ Artemis was not in the least cheered by this. ‘All the more reason to be careful. I wish there’d been a set of wings in the terminal. What sort of lock-up doesn’t have wings?’ ‘Pot luck,’ said Holly, her voice floating through the expandable seal of the portal. ‘We got what we got.’ ‘We got what we got,’ repeated Artemis, following Holly’s progress down the steps and across the courtyard with the infra-red filter. ‘Terrible grammar.’ Ten-year-old Artemis felt as though he had been dipped in a jar of honey and left to bake on the surface of the sun. His garments had moulded themselves to his skin and a tornado of flies revolved round his head. Artemis’s throat was sandpaper dry, and he could hear his breath and pulse as though he were wearing a helmet.

And the stench. The stench was a hot wind gusting in his nose and eyes.

I must persevere, he thought with a focused determination beyond his years. Father needs me. Also, I refuse to be cowed by this odious man.

The souq was a confusing kaleidoscope of pumping limbs, splashing dye and evening shadows. And, from Artemis’s point of view, things were even more confusing. Elbows flashed past, urns rang like bells and the air was shattered by sharp bolts of French and Arabic above his head.

Artemis allowed himself a moment to meditate. He closed his eyes, taking shallow breaths through his mouth.

Very well, he thought. To business, Doctor Kronski.

Luckily the doctor was enormous, and, as Artemis made his way through the souq, he quickly spotted Kronski on the opposite diagonal.

Look at that poseur. A camouflage suit! Does he honestly believe himself a general in some war against the animal kingdom?

Artemis himself drew surprised stares from the locals. Tourists were not unusual in the souq, but lone ten-year-old boys in formal suits, carrying monkey cages, were rare in any part of the world.

It is a simple matter. Walk to the centre and set down the cage.

But even walking through this souq was not simple. Workers bustled through the lanes between vats, laden with dozens of sopping hides. Strings of dye flew through the air, striping the clothes of tourists and other workers. Artemis was forced to tread carefully and give way several times before he eventually reached the small clearing at the centre.

Kronski was there before him, perched on the tiny stool that folded out from the top of his hunting cane, puffing on a thin cigar.

‘Apparently, I’m missing out on half the experience,’ he said, as though they were simply continuing a conversation. ‘The best part of a cigar is the aroma, and I can’t smell a thing.’ Artemis was silently infuriated. The man looked completely comfortable, with barely a drop of sweat on his brow. He forced himself to smile.

‘Do you have the money, Damon?’ At least he could annoy the good doctor by neglecting his title.

Kronski did not seem annoyed. ‘Got it right here, Ah-temis,’ he said, patting his breast pocket. ‘A hundred thousand is such a trifling amount, I managed to stuff every last note into my suit pocket.’ Artemis could not resist a jibe. ‘And what a lovely suit it is.’

Kronski’s violet-coloured glasses flashed in the last rays of the sun. ‘Unlike your own, my boy, which appears to be losing its character in this heat.’ It was true; Artemis felt that the only thing holding him upright was the dried sweat on his spine. He was hungry, tired and irritable.

Focus. The end justifies the sacrifices.

‘Well, obviously I have the lemur, so can we please proceed?’

Kronski’s fingers twitched, and Artemis could guess what he was thinking.

Take the lemur from the boy. Just grab it. No need to part with the hundred thousand.

Artemis decided to nip this kind of thinking in the bud.

‘In case you’re entertaining any rash notions of reneging on our agreement, let me say just one word to you: Butler.’ One word was enough. Kronski knew Butler’s reputation, but not his whereabouts. His fingers twitched once more and then were still.

‘Very well, Ah-temis. Let’s get this business over with. I’m sure you appreciate that I need to inspect the merchandise.’ ‘Of course. And I’m sure you appreciate that I will need to see a sample of your currency.’ ‘Why, of course.’ Kronski wiggled his hand into a pocket and withdrew a fat envelope brimming with purple five-hundred-euro notes. He carelessly selected one and passed it across to Artemis.

‘Gonna smell it, are you, Ah-temis?’

‘Not exactly.’ Artemis flipped open his mobile phone and selected a UV and magnetic currency scanner from its augmented menu. He passed the note in front of the purple light, checking for the watermark and metal strip.

Kronski pressed a hand to his heart. ‘I am wounded, boy, injured, that you should think I would cheat you. Why, it would cost more than a hundred thousand to forge a hundred thousand. A good set of plates costs twice that.’ Artemis closed the phone. ‘I am not a trusting person, Damon. You’ll learn that about me.’ He placed the cage on the stone plinth. ‘Now, your turn.’ In that moment, Kronski’s entire attitude changed. His offhand nature vanished, replaced with a giddiness. He smiled and tittered, tiptoeing to the cage like a child to the Christmas tree.

Perhaps a normal child, thought Artemis sourly. Christmas morning holds no surprises for me, thanks to the X-ray scanner on my mobile phone.

Obviously the prospect of extinguishing the life spark of another species excited Kronski hugely. He leaned over the cage daintily, squinting through the airholes.

‘Yes, yes. All appears to be in order. But I will need to take a closer look.’ ‘One hundred thousand euro buys you all the closer looks you need.’ Kronski tossed the envelope to Artemis. ‘Oh, take it, you tiresome boy. You really distress me, Ah-temis. A boy like you can’t have many friends.’ ‘I’ve got one friend,’ retorted Artemis, pocketing the money. ‘And he’s bigger than you.’ Kronski opened the box just wide enough to grab the lemur by the scruff of the neck. He hoisted the animal aloft like a trophy, checking him from all angles.

Artemis took a step back, casting suspicious glances around the souq.

Perhaps nothing is going to happen, he thought. Perhaps those creatures were not as resourceful as I believed. I may have to be content with the hundred thousand for now.

And then the resourceful creatures arrived.

Holly did not have wings to fly but that did not mean she couldn’t cause havoc. There had been no weapons in the LEP lock-up beyond the single Neutrino, but there had been some mining equipment, including a few dozen blaster buttons, which Holly was now sprinkling into the unattended dye vats around the souq, with a double helping underneath Butler’s window.

Though she was invisible, Holly took extra care with her movements, as shielding without a suit was wild magic indeed. Any sudden gestures or collisions could cause her body to vent magical fireworks, which would look strange igniting out of thin air.

So, softly, softly was the way to move.

Holly dropped the last of the buttons, feeling totally vulnerable in spite of her invisibility.

I miss Foaly’s guidance, she thought. It’s nice to have an all-seeing eye.

As if he could read her mind, Artemis’s voice came from the mike-bud in her ear. Another gift from the lock-up.

‘Kronski is opening the cage. Get ready to blow the buttons.’

‘All set. I’m at the north-west corner if Jayjay tries to run.’

‘I see you on the filter. Detonate at will.’

Holly climbed into an empty vat and fixed her gaze on Kronski. He had the lemur out now, holding it away from his body. Perfect.

She ran a finger along the small strip in her hand, until all the tiny lights turned green. A one-word message scrolled across the strip.

Detonate?

Absolutely, thought Holly, and pressed the yes box.

A vat blew, sending a column of red dye shooting six metres into the air. Several more vats quickly followed suit, thumping like mortars, hurling their contents into the Morocco sky.

A symphony of colour, thought Artemis from his perch. Butler’s view is totally obscured.

Below in the souq, pandemonium was instantaneous. The leather workers roared and shouted, oohing like spectators at a fireworks show as each new coloured fountain erupted. Some realized that their precious leathers were being coated with the wrong hues and began to feverishly gather their wares and tools. Within seconds it was raining gouts of dye, and the spaces between the vats were thronged with frantic workers and spooked tourists.

Young Artemis stood stock still, ignoring the flying dye, his gaze fixed on Damon Kronski and the lemur in his fist.

Watch the animal. They want the animal.

Kronski squealed with each explosion, balancing on a single leg like a scared ballet dancer.

Priceless, thought Artemis, and shot a few seconds of video on his phone. Something else was about to happen; he felt sure of it.

And he was right. Artemis had a vague impression that the earth exploded in front of Kronski’s feet. Mud mushroomed upwards, something moved in the curtain of earth and then the lemur was gone.

Doctor Kronski was left holding a blob of slime, which glowed slightly in the evening shadows.

The last drops of dye fell, and slowly the chaos retreated. The leather workers shook their heads in wonder, then began to curse their luck. A day’s profit gone.

Kronski squealed for several seconds after the dust had cleared, holding the note like an opera singer.

Artemis grinned nastily. ‘It isn’t over until the fat lady sings, so I suppose it’s over.’ The doctor was snapped out of it by Artemis’s tones. He composed himself, standing on two feet and breathing deeply as the red spots retreated from his cheeks. It was not until he tried to wipe the gunk from his hand that he realized the lemur was no longer in his grasp.

As he stared in disbelief at his fingers, Kronski felt the stuff coating his fingers harden into a glowing gauntlet.

‘What have you done, Artemis?’

Ah, thought Artemis. Suddenly you can pronounce my name.

‘I have done nothing, Damon. I delivered the lemur; you lost him. The problems here are all yours.’ Kronski was livid. He tore off his glasses to reveal red-rimmed eyes. ‘You have tricked me, Fowl. Somehow, you are a participant in this. I cannot host an Extinctionist conference without a strong opening. The execution of that lemur was my big hello, everyone.’ Artemis’s phone beeped and he glanced at the screen. A brief text from Butler.

Mission accomplished.

He pocketed the mobile phone and smiled broadly at Kronski.

‘A strong opening. I may be able to help you with that. For a price, naturally.’ Artemis the elder sat in the cham pod, watching events unfurling below. Everything went exactly to plan, with the exception of the dye vats, which actually exceeded Artemis’s expectations.

Butler’s view is completely blocked, he thought. And then he froze suddenly. Of course! I wouldn’t have placed Butler in that window at all. I would have put a decoy there, as it is one of the five logical places for a sniper to set up. In fact, I would have put a decoy in all five spots and then have Butler hide himself somewhere on the souqfloor, ready to step in if those pesky lemur-nappers showed up again, which they very well could, as they seem to know my every move. I, Artemis Fowl, have been bamboozled by myself.

Suddenly, a horrifying thought struck him.

‘Holly!’ he shouted into the microphone pad adhered to his thumb. ‘Abort! Abort!’ ‘What …’ came the crackly response. ‘The noise… I think… damaged.’ Then a few seconds of white noise, sharp snaps and silence.

It was too late. Artemis could only press his face against the screen and watch helplessly as one of the leather workers shrugged off his shoulder blanket and straightened, revealing himself to be far taller than he had previously appeared. It was, of course, Butler, with a hand-held infra-red scanner extended before him.

Butler. Don’t do it, old friend. I know you were never comfortable with my schemes.

In three quick strides, the bodyguard moved to Holly’s vat and netted the elf in his blanket. She struggled and fought, but never had a chance against Butler’s formidable strength. In ten seconds, Holly was hog-tied and hoisted over the bodyguard’s shoulder. In five more seconds Butler was out of the gate and lost in the gathering crowds of the medina.

It all happened so quickly that Artemis’s jaw did not have time to drop. One moment he was in control, enjoying the smugness that comes with being the smartest person in the metaphorical room. The next, he was crashing back to earth, having sacrificed his queen for a rook, realizing he was up against somebody just as smart as he was, only twice as ruthless.

He felt the pallor of desperation creep across his forehead, leaving pins and needles in its wake.

They have Holly. The Extinctionists will put her on trial on charges of breathing human air.

A thought occurred to him. Every defendant is entitled to a good lawyer.