Artemis Fowl and the Atlantis Complex

“I’m on a long flat ledge, on the lip of the trench,” he said softly, anxious not to disturb any vibration-sensitive creatures-sharks, for example.

He realized that the squid had dropped him into some kind of nest. Perhaps the creature did not actually sleep here, but it seemed to feed in the spot and collect things that interested it. There were several skeletons, including the gigantic ribbed remains of a sperm whale, which Artemis first mistook for a shipwreck. There were small boats, huge brass propellers, great chunks of gleaming quartz, phosphorescent rocks, various crates, and even a mangled orange deep-sea submarine with grinning skeletons inside.

Artemis moved quickly away from the craft, even though his intellect assured him that the skeletons could not harm him.

Pardon me if I don’t completely trust my intellect these days.

He noticed that in all this rubble there did not appear to be any fairy-made articles, even with Atlantis just over the crest.

Then Artemis saw that he was mistaken. There was, no more than thirty feet from him, a small, slick, metallic computer cube with unmistakable fairy markings which seemed to float just above the surface of the ledge.

No, wait, not floating. Suspended in gel.

Artemis poked the gel gingerly, and when there was no reaction apart from a gentle fizzling spark, he plunged his sheathed hand into the gel up to the shoulder, grasping the cube by a corner. With the aid of the suit’s servo motors, he easily pulled it free.

Wreckage from the probe, perhaps, he thought, then said aloud, “I have something. It could be pertinent. Are you seeing this, Foaly?”

There was no reply.

I need to get back to the ship, or into the crash crater. Somewhere away from the giant squid, which wants to nibble my flesh and suck my marrow.

Artemis immediately regretted thinking the suck-my-marrow bit, as it was far too graphic, and now he felt like throwing up again.

I don’t even know which way to go, he realized. This entire venture was ill-advised. What were the chances I would find a clue at the bottom of the ocean?

An ironic statement, as it would turn out, because he held a vital clue in his hands.

Artemis swung his head this way and that, to see if whatever was caught in the beams of his helmet could spark off an idea. Nothing. Just an almost transparent fish propelling its bloated body with stubby fins, and filtering plankton through its circular nostrils.

I need something to happen, thought Artemis a little desperately. The idea had occurred to him that he was lost alone underneath six miles of crushing ocean with not much of an idea of what to do next. Artemis had always performed well under pressure, but that was usually the intellectual pressure a person might experience at the end of a taxing chess match, not the kind of pressure that could splinter a person’s bones and squeeze every bubble of air from their lungs. Actual water pressure.

As it turned out, something did happen: the squid came back, and it bore in the grip of its larger tentacles what appeared to be the space probe’s nose cone.

I wonder what he wants that for? wondered Artemis. It’s almost as if he’s actually manipulating a tool.

But to what end? What nut would a giant squid wish to crack?

“Me,” Artemis blurted. “I’m the nut.”

Artemis could have sworn the squid winked at him before bringing the five-ton chunk of spacecraft swinging down toward the morsel of meat in its blue shell.

“I’m the nut!” Artemis shouted again, a little hysterically, it must be said. He backpedaled along the ledge, the suit’s motors lending him a little speed. Just enough feet per second to feel the force of the swing, but not the metal itself. The probe’s prow cut through the rock like a cleaver through soft meat and carved a V-shaped trench that ran between the soles of Artemis’s feet.

So much for being a genius, thought Artemis bitterly. One grand gesture and I’m fish food.

The squid yanked its weapon free from the rock and raised it high, pumping its mantle cavity full of water for the next effort. Artemis’s back was literally against the wall. He had nowhere to go, and made an easy target.

“Butler!” called Artemis, purely out of habit. He had no real expectation that his bodyguard could miraculously materialize at his side, and even if he did, it would just be to die there.

The squid closed one huge eye, taking careful aim.

These things are smarter than scientists think, thought Artemis. I do wish I had been able to write a paper.

The prow came hammering down, compressing water then pushing it aside. Metal filled Artemis’s vision, and it occurred to him that this was the second time this particular prow had almost crushed him.

Except this time it’s not almost.

But it was to be almost. An orange circle pulsed in Artemis’s helmet readout, and he prayed that it was a sign that an electromagnetic connection had been established between his suit and the ship.

It was. Artemis felt a gentle tug, then a fierce one that yanked him off the ledge straight up toward the hovering mercenary craft. In the light of his suit beams he could see a magnetic plate in the ship’s belly. Underneath him the squid abandoned its improvised mallet and bunched itself for pursuit.

I’ll probably slow down before I hit that plate, Artemis thought hopefully.

He didn’t, but the impact hurt a lot less than a blow from an armed giant squid.

Generally, the diver would be taken inside immediately, but in this case Holly decided that it would be best to leave Artemis where he was, and put a little distance between them and the squid, which Artemis would later agree was the correct decision even though at the time he was screaming. Artemis craned his head around to see the massive dome of the squid’s head jetting after him, tentacles behind rippling like skipping ropes-skipping ropes with razor-lined suckers and enough power to crush an armored vehicle, not to mention the ability to manipulate tools.

“Holly!” he shouted. “If you can hear me, go faster!”

Apparently she could hear him.

Holly took the ship deep into the impact crater, and when she was absolutely sure the squid was off their scopes, she flipped the magnetic plate, and Artemis was dumped into the air lock, still clutching the fairy box to his chest.

“Hey, look,” said Mulch, once the air lock had drained. “It’s the nut.” He ran in small circles around the bay, squealing, “I’m the nut. I’m the nut.” The dwarf stopped for a laugh. “He cracks me up, really.”

Butler hurried to Artemis’s side. “Cut him some slack, Diggums. He just tangled with a giant squid.”

Mulch was not impressed. “I once ate one of those things. A big one, not a minnow like that fellow.”

Butler helped Artemis with the helmet. “Anything broken? Can you move your fingers and toes? What is the capital of Pakistan?”

Artemis coughed and stretched his neck. “Nothing broken. Digits all mobile, and the capital of Pakistan is Islamabad, which is noteworthy for having been built to be the capital.”

“Okay, Artemis,” said Butler. “You’re fine. I won’t ask you to count to five.”

“I would rather count in fives, if you don’t mind. Foaly, congratulations on building such a sturdy phone with an excellent tracking program.”

Holly hit the water flaps to slow the ship’s forward motion. “Did you find anything?”

Artemis held out the hardware cube. “Wreckage from the probe. This was covered in some kind of gel. Interesting texture, loaded with crystals. Something of yours, Foaly?”

The centaur clopped over and took the small metal box. “It’s the heart from an amorphobot,” he said fondly. “These little guys were the perfect foragers. They could absorb anything, including each other.”

“Maybe they absorbed this Turnball guy and his buddies,” said Juliet, half joking.

Artemis was about to explain in patronizingly simple terms exactly why this wasn’t possible, when it occurred to him that it was indeed possible-not only that, it was probable.

“They weren’t programmed to act as rescue vehicles,” said Foaly.

Holly scowled. “If you tell me one more time that those amorphobots weren’t programmed to do something,