Artemis Fowl: the time paradox

‘We have an opportunity to learn from this creature. We owe it to our predecessors to find out if she can contribute to our coffers. If this is in reality a fairy, then who knows what magic it possesses. Magic that could be yours. If we kill this fairy, we will never know what unimaginable wealth dies with it.’

Artemis bowed. He had made his point. It would not be enough to sway the bloodthirsty Extinctionists, he knew, but it might be enough to make Kronski feel a little less cocky.

The doctor was waving his hands before the echo of Artemis’s voice faded.

‘How many times must we listen to this argument?’ he wondered. ‘Master Pasteur accuses me of repeating myself while he repeats the tired argument of every defence counsel we have ever listened to.’ Kronski tapped his lips in horror. ‘Ooh, let us not kill the creature for it is potentially the source of all our power and wealth. I remember spending a fortune on a sea slug that was supposed to cure arthritis. All we got was very expensive goo. This is all supposition.’

‘But this creature is magical,’ objected Artemis, banging the podium with a fist. ‘We have all heard how she can turn invisible. Even now her mouth is taped so she cannot hypnotize us. Imagine the power we could wield if we were to unlock the secrets of these gifts. If nothing else, they would better prepare us to deal with the rest of her kind.’

Kronski’s main problem was that he agreed with much of his opposition’s argument. It made perfect sense to save the creature and tease her secrets from her, but he could not afford to lose this argument. If he did, he might as well hand over the leadership.

‘We have tried to interrogate her. Our best men tried and she told us nothing.’

‘It is difficult to talk with a taped mouth,’ Artemis noted drily.

Kronski drew himself to his full height, lowering the timbre of his voice for effect. ‘The human race faces its most deadly enemy and you want to cosy up to it. That is not how we Extinctionists do things. If there is a threat, we wipe it out. That is how it has always been.’

This brought a roar of approval from the crowd, bloodlust trumping logic every time. Several members were on their feet, hollering. They had had enough of argument and wanted some action.

Kronski’s face was flushed with victory.

He thinks it’s over, thought Artemis. Poor man, and then, This beard really itches.

He waited calmly until the furore had trailed away, then came out from behind the podium.

‘I was hoping to spare you this, Doctor,’ he said. ‘Because I respect you so much.’

Kronski flapped his lips. ‘Spare me what, Master Pasteur?’

‘You know what. I think you have pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes long enough.’

Kronski was not in the least worried. The boy was beaten and everything else was was just irritating chatter. Still, why not let Pasteur dig a hole for himself?

‘And what wool would that be?’

‘Are you certain you want me to continue?’

Kronski’s teeth glittered when he smiled. ‘Oh, absolutely certain.’

‘As you wish,’ said Artemis, approaching the dock. ‘This creature was not our original defendant. Up until yesterday we had a lemur. Not quite a monkey, Mister Kirkenhazard, but close enough. I say we had a lemur, but in truth we almost had a lemur. It went missing at the pick-up. Then, and this is important, then we were sold this creature by the same boy who almost sold us the lemur, undoubtedly paid for from Extinctionists’ funds. Does anyone else think this is a little off? I do. This boy keeps his lemur and sells us a supposed fairy.’

Kronski was not so cocky now. This Pasteur fellow had a lot of information.

‘Supposed fairy?’

‘That’s right. Supposed. We have only your word for it, and of course that of Mister Kirkenhazard, who apparently is your worst enemy. Nobody is falling for that ruse, I assure you.’

‘Examine the thing yourself,’ blurted Kronski, glossing over the Kirkenhazard accusation. ‘This is an easy argument to win.’

‘Thank you, Doctor,’ said Artemis. ‘I believe I shall.’

Artemis approached the cage. This was the tricky part as it required sleight of hand and coordination, which were the elements in every plan that he usually left to Butler.

His pocket bulged slightly with a couple of adhesive Nu-skin bandages taken from Mulch’s medi-kit. He had told the security guard they were nicotine patches and so he had been allowed bring them through to the banquet. The bandages’ adhesive was activated by skin contact and they moulded themselves to the contours they were applied to, assuming the colour and texture of the surrounding skin.

Artemis’s fingers hovered over his pocket, but it was not yet time to touch a bandage. It would simply stick to his own hand. Instead, he reached into his other pocket for the phone he had stolen from the Bentley back at Rathdown Park.

‘This phone is invaluable to me,’ he told the Extinctionists. ‘It’s a little bulkier than other phones, but that is because I have been installing add-ons for years. It is an amazing thing, really. I can stream television, watch movies, check my stocks, all the standard stuff. But I also have an X-ray camera and display. Just give me a second.’ Artemis pressed a few buttons, linking the phone by Bluetooth to the laptops and from there to the large- view screen.

‘Ah, here we are,’ Artemis said, passing the phone in front of his hand. On screen an arrangement of phalanges, metacarpals and carpals stood out darkly inside a pale foam of flesh. ‘You see the bones of my hand quite clearly. This is a very good projection system you have, Doctor Kronski. I congratulate you.’

Kronski’s smile was as fake as the congratulations had been.

‘Do you have a point, Pasteur, or are you just showing us how clever you are?’

‘Oh, I have a point, Doctor. And the point is that were it not for the wideness of the brow and the pointed ears, this creature would seem remarkably like a little girl.’

Kronski snorted. ‘A pity about the ears and brow. But for them you would have an argument.’

‘Precisely,’ said Artemis, and passed the phone before Holly’s face. On screen, he played a short movie file he had constructed back in the shuttle. It showed Holly’s skull with dark dense shapes on temples and ears.

‘Implants,’ crowed Artemis. ‘Clearly the result of surgery. This fairy is a clever fake. You have tried to dupe us, Kronski.’

Kronski’s denials were lost in the roar of the crowd. The Extinctionists surged to their feet, decrying this despicable con-job.

‘You lied to me, Damon!’ shouted Tommy Kirkenhazard, with something like anguish. ‘To me.’

‘Put him in the pit,’ called Contessa Irina Kostovich, her face as feral as that of the Honshu wolf on her shoulder. ‘Make Kronski extinct. He deserves it for dragging us here.’

Kronski upped the volume on his podium mike. ‘This is ridiculous. If you have been tricked, then so have I. No! I will not believe it. This boy, this Pasteur, is lying. My fairy is real. Just give me a chance to prove it.’

‘I have not finished, Doctor,’ cried Artemis, stepping boldly to the dock. In both hands he held a Nu-skin patch, slipped into his palms during the confusion. He could feel pinpricks of heat on his flesh as the adhesive was activated. He had to act quickly or his plans would be reduced to two flesh-coloured pads on his own hands.

‘These ears do not seem right to me. And your friend Mister Kirkenhazard was most gentle with them.’

Artemis scrunched one Nu-skin patch into a rough cone, sealing the adhesive on itself. He thrust the other hand through the bars and make a great show of tugging on the tip, while in reality spreading the second bandage over Holly’s ear. Covering the entire tip and most of the auricle.

‘It’s coming away,’ he grunted, making sure to mask the cage’s camera with his forearm. ‘I have it.’

Seconds later the bandage was dry and one of Holly’s ears was totally obscured. Artemis looked her in the eye and winked.

Play along, the wink said. I will get you out of this.

At least Artemis hoped this was what his wink communicated and not something like any chance of another kiss later?