'Is that why you called me? To insult my family?' 'No,' replied Artemis.
'I do apologize, that was juvenile. I called you to try and make you see sense. There is much more at stake here than a Nobel Prize, not to belittle the prize of course.'
Minerva smiled knowingly. 'Artemis Fowl, whatever your pretence, you called me because your plan failed. I have your demon and you want her back. But if it makes you feel better, please proceed with your good of humanity speech.'
Outside, on the bluff overlooking Chateau Paradizo, Artemis frowned.
This girl reminded him a lot of himself eighteen months ago, when achievement and acquisition were everything, and family and friends were secondary. Honesty, on this occasion, actually was the best policy.
'Miss Paradizo,' he said gently. 'Minerva. Listen to me for a few moments — you will feel the truth of what I say.'
Minerva tutted. 'Why is that? Because we're connected?'
'Actually we are. We are similar people. Both the most intelligent person in whatever room we happen to be in.
Both constantly underestimated. Both determined to shine brightest in whichever discipline we pursue. Both dogged by scorn and loneliness.'
'Ridiculous,' scoffed Minerva, but her protestations rang hollow. 'I am not lonely. I have my work.'
Artemis persisted. 'I know how it feels, Minerva. And let me tell you, no matter how many prizes you win, no matter how many theorems you prove, it will not be enough to make people like you.'
'Oh, spare me your amateur psychology lectures. You're not even three years older than me.'
Artemis was injured. 'Hardly amateur. And for your information, age is often detrimental to intelligence. I have written a paper on the subject in Psychology Today, under the pseudonym Doctor C. Niall DeMencha.'
Minerva giggled. 'I get it. Senile Dementia. Very good.'
Artemis himself smiled. 'You are the first person to get that.'
'I always am.'
'Me too.'
'Don't you find that tiresome?'
'Incredibly. I mean, what is wrong with people? Everybody says that I have no sense of humour, then I construct a perfectly sound pun round a well-known psychological condition and it is ignored. People should be rolling in the aisles.'
'Absolutely,' agreed Minerva. 'That happens to me all the time.'
'I know. I loved that Murray Gell-Mann kidnapping a quark joke that you did on the train. Very clever analogy.'
The congenial conversation ground to a frosty halt.
'How did you hear that? How long have you been spying on me?'
Artemis was quietly stunned. He had not meant to reveal that fact. It was most unlike him to chatter on about trifles when there were lives at stake. But he liked this Minerva girl. She was so like him.
'There was a security camera in the corridor, on the train. I procured the tape, had it enhanced and read your lips.'
'Hmm,' said Minerva. 'I don't remember a camera.'
'It was there. Inside a red plastic bubble. Fisheye lens. I apologize for the intrusion of your privacy, but it was an emergency.'
Minerva was silent for a moment. 'Artemis. We could have a lot to talk about. I haven't talked this much with a boy in… well, ever. But I have to finish this project. Can you call me again in six weeks?'
'Six weeks will be too late. The world will be a different place and possibly not a better one.'
'Artemis. Stop it. I was just beginning to like you, and now we're back where we started.'
'Just give me one more minute,' Artemis insisted. 'If I can't convince you in a single minute, then I will hang up and leave you to your research.'
'Fifty-nine,' said Minerva. 'Fifty-eight. .'
Artemis wondered if all girls were so emotional. Holly could be this way too. Warm one moment and icy the next.
'You are holding two creatures captive. Both sentient. Neither human. If you expose either one to the wider scientific community, then their kind will be hunted down.
You will be responsible for the extinction of at least one species. Is that what you want?'
'That's what they want,' retorted Minerva. 'The first one we rescued threatened to kill us all, and possibly eat us. He said that the demons would return and wipe out the human scourge.'
'I know all about Abbot,' said Artemis, using what he had learned from
Minerva's own surveillance cameras. 'He was a dinosaur. Demons could never take on humans now. Judging by my temporal calculations, Abbot was whisked ten thousand years into his own future and then sent back again. Declaring war on demons would be like declaring war on monkeys. In fact, monkeys would be a bigger threat. There are more of them. And anyway, the demons can't even fully materialize unless we shoot them full of silver.'
'I am sure they will find a way around that. Or one could get through accidentally, just like Abbot, then open the gates for the rest of them.'
'Highly unlikely. I mean really, Minerva, what are the odds?'
'So, Artemis Fowl wants me to forget all about my Nobel project and turn my demon captives loose.'
'Forget the project certainly,' said Artemis, checking his watch. 'But I don't think there is any need for you to set your captives free.'
'Oh, really? And why is that?'
'Because I imagine they are already gone.'
Minerva spun round to face the spot where No.1 had been sitting. It was empty: her captive demon had disappeared along with his chair. A perfunctory sweep told her the entire room was empty, except for her.
'Where is he, Artemis?' she screamed into the phone. 'Where is my prize?'
'Forget about all of this,' said Artemis softly. 'It's not worth it. Take it from someone who has made your mistakes. I will call you soon.'
Minerva squeezed the phone as though it were Artemis's neck.
'You tricked me!' she said, the truth suddenly dawning on her. 'You allowed me to capture your demon!'
But Artemis did not reply. He had reluctantly closed his fist on the conversation. Generally, outsmarting someone gave him a warm and fuzzy feeling, but hoodwinking Minerva Paradizo just made him feel like a sneak. It was ironic that he felt like a bad guy, now that he was almost a good guy.
Butler glanced across at him from his perch on the knoll.
'How did that go?' he asked. 'Your first lengthy conversation with a girl your own age?'
'Fabulous,' said Artemis, voice dripping with sarcasm. 'We're planning a June wedding.'
Chapter 9: TURNED TABLES
When Holly Short had opened the door of her makeshift basement cell, she found her helmet bouncing on the spot in front of her with a three-dimensional image of Foaly's face projected on to it.
'That is really creepy,' she said. 'Couldn't you just text me?'
Foaly had included a three-dimensional help program in Holly's helmet's computer. It came as no surprise to Holly that he had given the help module his own features.
'I've lost some weight since this model was constructed,' said Foaly's image. 'I've been jogging. Every evening.' 'Focus,' Holly ordered.
Holly dipped her chin and Foaly bounced the helmet on to her head.
She sealed it tight.
