Artemis Fowl: the time paradox

Artemis Senior nodded, slowly at first, then with more vigour.

‘Yes. Yes, dammit. She is not finished yet. My Angeline is a fighter — are you not, darling?’

He took her hand gently, as though it were made of finest crystal. She did not respond to his touch or voice. ‘We talked to every alternative practitioner in Europe about my phantom-limb pains. Perhaps one of them can help us with this.’

‘I know a man in China,’ said Butler. ‘He worked with Madame Ko at the bodyguard academy. He was a miracle worker with herbs. Lived up the mountains. He has never been outside the province, but he would come for me.’

‘Good,’ said Artemis Senior. ‘The more opinions we can call on the better.’ He turned to his son. ‘Listen, Arty, if you know someone who might be able to help. Anyone. Perhaps you have some underworld contacts?’

Artemis twisted a rather ostentatious ring on his middle finger so that the front rested against his palm. This ring was actually a camouflaged fairy communicator.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I have a few underworld contacts.’

CHAPTER 2: THE WORLD’S BIGGEST

HELSINKI HARBOUR, THE BALTIC SEA

THE giant sea monster that is the kraken sent its finned tentacles spiralling towards the ocean’s surface, pulling its bloated body behind. Its single eye rolled manically in its socket and its curved beak, the size of a schooner’s prow, was open wide, filtering the rushing water through to its rippling gills.

The kraken was hungry and there was room for only one thought in its tiny brain as it sped towards the holiday ferry above.

Kill… Kill… KILL …

‘That is such dwarf manure,’ said Lower Elements Police Captain Holly Short, muting the sound file in her helmet. ‘For one thing, the kraken doesn’t have tentacles, and as for kill… kill… kill … ’

‘I know,’ said Foaly, the voice of mission control in her communicator. ‘I thought you might enjoy that passage. You know, have a laugh. Remember laughing?’

Holly was not amused. ‘It’s so typical of humans, Foaly, to take something perfectly natural and demonize it. Krakens are gentle creatures, and the humans turn them into some kind of murderous giant squid. Kill… kill… kill. Give me a break.’

‘Come on, Holly, it’s just sensational fiction. You know those humans and their imaginations. Relax.’

Foaly was right. If she got worked up every time the human media misrepresented a mythical creature, she would spend half her life in a rage. Over the centuries Mud Men had caught glimpses of the fairy folk, and had twisted the truth of these glimpses almost beyond recognition.

Let it go. There are decent humans. Remember Artemis and Butler.

‘Did you see that human movie with the centaurs?’ she asked the centaur on the other end of her helmet communicator. ‘They were noble and sporty. My sword for thee, Majesty, then off for a spot of hunting. Fit centaurs, now that did make me laugh.’

Thousands of miles away, somewhere in the Earth’s mantle below Ireland, Foaly, the Lower Elements Police technical adviser, rubbed his paunch.

‘Holly, that hurts. Caballine likes my belly.’

Foaly had got married, or hitched as centaurs called the ceremony, while Holly had been away with Artemis Fowl rescuing demons in Limbo. A lot had changed in the three years she had been away, and sometimes Holly found it difficult to keep up. Foaly had a new bride to occupy his time. Her old friend Trouble Kelp had been promoted to LEP Commander, and she was back working at Recon with the Kraken Watch task force.

‘Apologies, friend. That was mean,’ said Holly. ‘I like your belly too. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to see a hitching sash round it.’

‘Me too. Next time.’

Holly smiled. ‘Sure. That’s going to happen.’

Traditionally, male centaurs were expected to take more than one bride, but Caballine was a modern fairy and Holly doubted if she would stand for a new filly in the household.

‘Don’t worry, I’m joking.’

‘You’d better be, because I’m meeting Caballine at the spa this weekend.’

‘How’s the new gear?’ said Foaly, hurriedly changing the subject.

Holly spread her arms wide, feeling the wind ripple her fingers, seeing the Baltic Sea flash past below in shards of blue and white.

‘It’s wonderful,’ she said. ‘Absolutely wonderful.’

Captain Holly Short of LEPrecon flew in wide, lazy circles above Helsinki, enjoying the brisk Scandinavian air filtering through her helmet. It was just after 5 a.m. local time and the rising sun had set the Uspenski Cathedral’s golden onion dome shimmering. Already the city’s famed marketplace was strobed with headlights as vendors arrived to open up for the morning trade, or eager politicians’ aides made their way towards the blue-grey facade of City Hall.

Holly’s target lay away from what would shortly be a bustling centre of commerce. She adjusted her fingers, and the sensors in her armoured gloves translated the movements to commands for the mechanical wings on her back, sending her spiralling down towards the small island of Uunisaari, half a mile from the port.

‘The body sensors are nice,’ she said. ‘Very intuitive.’

‘It’s as close as it gets to being a bird,’ said Foaly. ‘Unless you want to integrate?’

‘No thank you,’ said Holly vehemently. She loved flying, but not enough to have an LEP surgeon sew a few implants into her cerebellum.

‘Very well, Captain Short,’ said Foaly, switching to business mode. ‘Pre-op check. Three Ws please.’

The three Ws were every Reconnaissance officer’s checklist before approaching an operation’s zone. Wings, weapon and a way home.

Holly checked the transparent readouts on her helmet visor.

‘Power cell charged. Weapon on green. Wings and suit fully functional. No red lights.’

‘Excellent,’ said Foaly. ‘Check, check and check. Our screens agree.’

Holly heard keys clicking as Foaly recorded this information in the mission log. The centaur was known for his fondness for old-school keyboards, even though he himself had patented an extremely efficient virtual keyboard — the v-board.

‘Remember, Holly, this is just reconnaissance. Go down and check the sensor. Those things are two hundred years old, and the problem is more than likely a simple overheat. All you need to do is go where I tell you and fix what I tell you. No indiscriminate blasting involved. Understand?’

Holly snorted. ‘I can see why Caballine fell for you, Foaly. You’re such a charmer.’

Foaly snickered. ‘I don’t rise to jibes any more, Holly. Marriage has mellowed me.’

‘Mellow? I’ll believe that when you last ten minutes in a room with Mulch without throwing a hoof.’

The dwarf, Mulch Diggums, had been at various times enemy, partner and friend to Holly and Foaly. His greatest pleasure in life was stuffing his face, and not far behind that was irritating his various enemies, partners and friends.

‘Perhaps I need a few more years of marriage before I get that mellow. A few more centuries, in fact.’

The island was large in Holly’s visor now, surrounded by a monk’s fringe of foam. Time to stop the chit-chat