‘Then it’s time to get off this train.’
Artemis glanced at the Arctic landscape whipping past outside the carriage. Getting off the train wasn’t as easy as the commander made it sound.
Butler dropped nimbly through the overhead hatch, where he’d been keeping an eye on the goblin hit squad.
‘Nice to see you’re so limber,’ commented Artemis drily.
The manservant smiled. ‘Good to see you too, Artemis.’
‘Well? What did you see up there?’ said Root, interrupting the reunion.
Butler placed a hand on his young master’s shoulders. They could talk later. ‘The goblins are gone. Funny thing. Two of them dropped low for reconnaissance, then the other one shot them in the back.’
Root nodded. ‘Power play. Goblins are their own worst enemies. But right now, we’ve got to get off this train.’
‘There’s another bend coming up in about half a klick,’ said Butler.
‘That’s our best chance.’
‘So, how do we disembark?’ asked Artemis.
Butler grinned. ‘Disembark is a pretty gentle term for what I have in mind.’
Artemis groaned. More running and jumping.
Foaly’s brain was bubbling like a sea slug in a deep-fat fryer. He still had options, providing Cudgeon didn’t actually shoot him. One shot and it was all over. Centaurs didn’t have magic. Not a drop. They got by on brains alone.
That and their ability to trample their enemies underfoot. But Foaly had a feeling that Briar wouldn’t plug him just yet. Too busy gloating.
‘Hey, Foaly,’ said the lieutenant. ‘Why don’t you go for the intercom?
See what happens.’
Foaly could guess what would happen. ‘Don’t worry, Briar. No sudden moves.’
Cudgeon laughed, and he sounded genuinely happy. ‘Briar? First name terms now, is it?You must realize how much trouble you’re in.’
Foaly was starting to realize just that. Beyond the tinted glass, LEP techs were beavering away trying to track down the mole, oblivious to the drama being played out not two metres away. He could see and hear them, but it was one-way surveillance.
The centaur had only himself to blame. He had insisted that the
Operations’ booth be constructed to his own paranoid standards. A titanium cube with blast-proof windows. The entire room was wireless, not even a fibre-optic cable to connect Operations to the outside world.
Totally impregnable. Unless, of course, you opened the door to throw a few insults at an old enemy. Foaly groaned. His mother had always said that his smart mouth would get him into trouble. But all was not lost. He still had a few tricks up his sleeve. A plasma floor, for instance.
‘So what’s this all about, Cudgeon?’ asked the centaur, raising his hooves just off the tiles. ‘And please don’t say world domination.’
Cudgeon continued to smile. This was his/moment.
‘Not immediately. The Lower Elements will suffice for now.’
‘But why?’
Cudgeon’s eyes were tinged with madness. ‘Why?You have the gall to ask me why? I was the the Council’s golden boy! In fifty years I would have been chairman! And then along comes the Artemis Fowl Affair. In one short day all my hopes are dashed. I end up deformed and demoted! And it was all because of you, Foaly. You and Root! So the only way to get my life back on track is to discredit both of you. You will be blamed for the goblin attacks, and
Julius will be dead and dishonoured. And as an added bonus, I even get
Artemis Fowl. It’s as close to perfect as I could have hoped.’
Foaly snorted. ‘Do you really think you can defeat the LEP with a handful of Softnose weapons?’
‘Defeat the LEP? Why would I want to do that? I am the hero of the LEP. Or rather I will be. You will be the villain of this piece.’
‘We’ll see about that, baboon face,’ said Foaly, activating a switch, sending an infra-red signal to a receiver in the floor. In five-tenths of a second, a secret membrane of plasma would warm up. Half a second later, a neutrino charge would spread across the plasma gel like wildfire, hopping anyone connected to the floor off at least three walls. In theory.
Cudgeon giggled delightedly. ‘Don’t tell me. Your plasma tiles aren’t working.’
Foaly was flummoxed. Momentarily. Then he lowered his hooves gingerly and pressed another button. This one engaged a voice-activated laser. Basically, the next person to talk got plugged. The centaur held his breath.
‘No plasma tiles,’ continued Cudgeon. ‘And no voice-activated laser.
You really are slipping, Foaly. Not that I’m surprised. I always knew you’d be exposed for the donkey you are.’
The lieutenant settled into a swivel chair, propping his feet on the computer bank. ‘So have you figured it out yet?’
Foaly thought. Who could it be? Who could beat him at his own game?
Not Cudgeon, that was for sure. A techno fool if ever there was one. No, there was only one person with the ability to crack the Centaurian code and deactivate the booth’s safety measures.
‘Opal Koboi,’ he breathed.
Cudgeon patted Foaly’s head. ‘That’s right. Opal planted a few spy cams during the upgrading work. Once you were kind enough to translate a few documents for the camera, it was a simple matter to crack your code and do a little reprogramming. And the funny thing is, the Council footed the bill.
She even charged for the spy cameras. Even now, the B’wa Kell is preparing to launch its attack on the cjty: LEP weapons and communications are down, and the best thing is that you, my horsy friend, will be held responsible. After all, you have locked yourself in the Operations’ booth in the middle of a crisis.’
‘Nobody will believe it!’ protested Foaly.
‘Oh yes they will, especially when you disengage the LEP security, including the DNA cannons.’
‘Which I won’t be doing anytime soon.’
Cudgeon twirled a matt-black remote between his fingers. ‘I’m afraid it’s not up to you any more. Opal took your little operation apart and wired the whole lot into this little beauty.’
Foaly swallowed. ‘You mean. .?’
‘That’s right,’ said Cudgeon. ‘Nothing works unless I press the button.’
He pressed the button. And even if Foaly had had the reactions of a sprite, he would never have had time to draw up all his hooves before the plasma shock blasted him right out of his specially modified swivel chair.
Butler instructed everyone to attach themselves to the Moonbelt, one per link. Floating slightly in the buffeting wind, the group manoeuvred itself to the carriage doorway like a drunken crab.
It’s simple physics, Artemis told himself. Reduced gravity will prevent us being dashed against the Arctic ice. In spite of all his logic, when Root launched the group into the night, Artemis couldn’t hold back a single gasp.
Later, when he replayed the incident in his mind’s eye, Artemis would edit out the breath.
The slipstream spun them beyond the railway sleepers, into a drift.
Butler turned off the anti-gravity belt a second before impact, otherwise they could have bounced away, like men on the moon.
Root was first to detach, scooping handfuls of snow from the surface until his fingers reached the compacted ice below.
‘It’s no use,’ he said. ‘I can’t break through the ice.’
He heard a click behind his shoulder.
