Artemis Fowl and the Atlantis Complex

“If they make you happy, I am sure they will make me happy.”

“So, Arty, you have to promise me you’ll use them.”

Artemis’s nature made it hard for him to promise anything. “What are they?”

“Promise me, honey.”

Artemis glanced out of the porthole. He was stuck in a burned-out escape pod in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Either they would sink, or some Scandinavian navy would mistake them for aliens and blow their tub out of the water.

“Very well, I promise. So, what did you get for me?”

Angeline paused for a beat. “Jeans.”

“What?” croaked Artemis.

“And a T-shirt.”

Artemis knew that he shouldn’t really be upset, in the circumstances, but he couldn’t help himself. “Mother, you tricked me.”

“Now, I know you don’t really do casual.”

“That’s hardly fair. Last month at that cake sale I rolled up both sleeves.”

“People are afraid of you, Arty. Girls are terrified of you. You’re a fifteen-year-old in a bespoke suit, and nobody died.”

Artemis took several breaths. “Does the T-shirt have any writing on it?”

A rustling of paper crackled through the phone’s speakers. “Yes. It’s so cool. There’s a picture of a boy who for some reason has no neck and only three fingers on each hand, and behind him in a sort of graffiti style is the word randomosity. I don’t know what that means, but it sounds really current.”

Randomosity, thought Artemis, and he felt like weeping. “Mother, I. .”

“You promised, Arty. That’s what you did.”

“Yes. I did promise, Mother.”

“And I want you to call me Mum.”

“Mother! You’re being unreasonable. I am who I am. T-shirts and jeans are not me.”

Angeline Fowl played her trump card. “Well, you know, Arty dear, sometimes people are not who they think they are.”

This was a none-too-subtle dig at Artemis for mesmerizing his own parents, something Angeline had only become aware of when Opal Koboi had occupied her body and all the secrets of the fairy world had become known to her.

“That’s hardly fair.”

“Fair? Wait, let me call the gentlemen of the press. Artemis Fowl just used the word fair.”

Artemis realized that his mother was not quite over the mesmerizing thing yet.

“Very well. I consent to wearing the jeans and T-shirt.”

“Excuse me?”

“Very well. I will wear the jeans and T-shirt. . Mum.”

“I am so happy. Tell Butler to put by two days a week. Jeans and Mums. Get used to it.”

What’s next? Artemis wondered. Baseball hats worn back to front?

“Butler is taking good care of you, I trust?”

Artemis colored. More lies. “Yes. You should see his face at this meeting. He is bored out of his mind with all the science.”

Angeline’s voice changed, became warmer, more emotional.

“I know it’s important, Arty, what you’re doing. Important for the planet, I mean. And I believe in you, son. Which is why I am keeping your secret and letting you gallivant across the globe with fairy folk, but you have to promise me that you’re safe.”

Artemis had heard the expression to feel like a real heel, but now he actually understood it.

“I am the safest human in the world,” he said jauntily. “I have more protection than a president. I’m better armed too.”

Yet another hmmm. “This is the last solo mission, Arty. You promised me. ‘I just have to save the world,’ you said. ‘Then I can spend more time with the twins.’”

“I remember,” said Artemis, which wasn’t really agreeing.

“See you tomorrow morning, then. The dawn of a new day.”

“See you tomorrow morning, Mum.”

Angeline hung up, and her picture disappeared from Artemis’s screen. He was sorry to see it go.

On the deck, Foaly suddenly flipped onto his back.

“Not the stripy ones,” he blurted. “They’re just little babies.” Then he opened his eyes and saw Artemis watching him.

“Did I say that out loud?”

Artemis nodded. “Yes. Something about the stripy ones being babies.”

“Childhood memory. I’m pretty much over it now.”

Artemis stretched out a hand to help the centaur to his hooves.

“No help from you,” Foaly moaned, slapping at the hand as though it were a wasp. “I have had enough of you.

If you even think the phrase goodly beast, I am going to kick you straight in the teeth.”

Artemis slapped the buckle on his chest, opening the harness, stretching his hand out farther.

“I am sorry about all of that, Foaly. But I’m fine now. It’s me, Artemis.”

Now Foaly accepted the steadying hand. “Oh, thank the gods. That other guy was really getting on my nerves.”

“Not so fast,” said Holly, appearing fully conscious between the two.

“Whoa,” said Foaly, rearing. “Don’t you moan and groan a bit when you regain consciousness?”

“Nope,” said Holly. “LEP ninja training. And this guy isn’t Artemis. He said Mum. I heard him. Artemis Fowl doesn’t say Mum, Mummy, Mom, or Momsy. This is Orion trying to pull a fast one.”

“I realize how it sounded,” said Artemis. “But you have to believe me. My mother extorted that term of endearment from me.”

Foaly tapped his long chin. “Extorted? Endearment? It’s Artemis, all right.”

“Thanks for shooting me the second time,” said Artemis, touching the burn marks on his neck. “The charge set me free from the fours, for the time being. And I’m sorry about all that rubbish Orion was spouting. I have no idea where that came from.”

“We need to talk about that at great length,” said Holly, brushing past him to the dashboard. “But later. First, let’s see if I can raise Haven.”

Foaly tapped a button on his phone’s screen. “Already on it, Captain.”

After all the drama of the previous few hours, it seemed impossible that they could simply phone Haven and get a connection just like that, but that’s exactly what happened.

Commander Trouble Kelp picked up on the first ring, and Foaly put the video call on speaker.

“Holly? Is that you?”

“Yes, Commander. I have Foaly with me, and Artemis Fowl.”

Trouble grunted. “Artemis Fowl. Why am I not surprised? We should have sucked that Mud Whelp’s brain out through his ear when we had the chance.”

Trouble Kelp was famous for his gung-ho attitude- that and the fact that he had chosen Trouble as his graduation name. There was an honest-to-gods true story going around the Academy that, as a lowly street cop, young Officer Kelp drove his riot scooter down an alley in Boolatown during the solstice and PAed to a dozen or so scrapping goblins the immortal line: If you’re looking for trouble, you’ve come to the right place. After the goblins had finished laughing, they gave Trouble a hiding he did not soon forget. The scars made him a little more cautious, but not much.