Eoin Colfer - Artemis Fowl. The Opal Deception

In Holly’s ears, her voice sounded distant, as though someone else was speaking.

She imagined the bells of lifelong boredom clanging behind her every word. A desk job.

She had a desk job.

Root patted her on the shoulder, his huge hand knocking the air from her lungs.

‘Cheer up, Captain. There is life below ground, you know.’

‘I know,’ said Holly with an utter lack of conviction.

The police cruiser pulled in beside E37. Root opened the car door and began to disembark, then stopped.

‘If it makes any difference,’ he said quietly, almost awkwardly, ‘I’m proud of you,

Holly.’ And he was gone, out of the door and into the throng of LEP officers training their weapons on the chute entrance.

It does make a difference, thought Holly, watching Root instantly take command of the situation. A big difference.

The chutes were natural magma vents that stretched from the Earth’s core to the planet’s surface. Most emerged underwater, supplying warm streams that nurtured deep-sea life, but some filtered their gases through the network of cracks and fissures that riddled surface dry land. The LEP used the power of magma flares to propel their officers to the surface in titanium eggs. A more leisurely shuttle trip could be taken in a dormant chute. E37 emerged in downtown Paris, and until recently had been the chute used by goblins in their smuggling operations. Closed to the public for many years, the chute’s terminal had fallen into disrepair. Currently, E37’s only occupants were the members of a movie company that was making a TV film about the B’wa Kell rebellion.

Holly was being portrayed by three-time AMP winner Skylar Peat, and Artemis Fowl was to be completely computer generated.

When Holly and Root arrived, Major Trouble Kelp had three squads of tactical LEP arranged around the terminal’s entrance.

‘Fill me in, Major,’ ordered Root.

Kelp pointed to the entrance. ‘We have one way in, and no way out. All the secondary entrances have long since subsided, so if Scalene is in there, he has to get through us to go home.’

‘Are we sure he’s there?’

‘No,’ admitted Major Kelp. ‘We picked up his signal. But whoever helped him to escape could have sliced open his head and removed the transmitter. All we know for sure is that someone is playing games with us. I sent in a couple of my best Recon sprites, and they came back with this.’ Trouble handed them a sound wafer. The wafers were the size of a thumbnail and were generally used to record short birthday greetings.

This one was in the shape of a birthday cake. Root closed his fingers around the wafer.

The heat from his hand would power its microcircuits.

A sibilant voice issued from the tiny speaker, made even more reptilian by the cheap wiring.

‘Root,’ said the voice, ‘I would speak to you. I would tell you a great secret. Bring the female, Holly Short. Two only, no more. Any more, and many will die. My comrades will see to it…’ The message ended with a traditional birthday jingle, its cheeriness at odds with the message.

Root scowled. ‘Goblins. Drama queens, the lot of them.’

‘It’s a trap, Commander,’ said Holly without hesitation. ‘We were the ones at

Koboi Labs a year ago. The goblins hold us responsible for the rebellion’s failure. If we go in there, who knows what’s waiting for us?’

Root nodded approvingly. ‘Now you’re thinking like a major. We’re not expendable. So what are our options, Trouble?’

‘If you don’t go in, many will die. If you do, you might.’

‘Not a nice set of options. Don’t you have anything good to tell me?’

Trouble lowered his helmet’s visor and consulted a mini-screen on the perspex.

‘We managed to get the terminal’s security scanners back on line and ran substance and thermal scans. We found a single heat source in the access tunnel, so Scalene is alone, if it’s him. Whatever he’s doing in there, he doesn’t have any known form of weaponry or explosives. Just a few beetle bars and some good old H 2O.’

‘Any magma flares due?’ asked Holly.

Trouble ran his index finger along a pad on his left glove, scrolling down the screen on his visor. ‘Nothing for a couple of months. That chute is intermittent. So Scalene is not planning to bake you.’

Root’s cheeks glowed like two heating coils. ‘D’Arvit!’ he swore. ‘I thought our goblin troubles were over. I’m tempted just to send in tactical and take a chance that Scalene is bluffing.’

‘That would be my advice,’ said Trouble. ‘He doesn’t have anything in there that could harm you. Give me five fairies, and we’ll have Scalene in a wagon before he knows he’s been arrested.’

‘I take it the sleeper half of the seeker-sleeper is not working?’ said Holly.

Trouble shrugged. ‘We have to suppose it’s not. The seeker-sleeper didn’t function until now, and when we got here the wafer was left out for us. Scalene knew we were coming. He even left a message.’

Root punched his palm with a fist. T have to go in. There’s no immediate danger inside, and we can’t assume that Scalene hasn’t come up with a way to carry out his threat. I don’t have a choice, not really. I won’t order you to come with me, Captain Short.‘

Holly felt her stomach lurch, but she swallowed the fear. The commander was right. There was no other way. This was what being an LEP officer was all about.

Protecting the People.

‘You don’t have to, Commander. I volunteer.’ ‘Good. Now, Trouble, let Foaly and his shuttle through the barricade. We may have to go in, but we don’t have to go in unarmed.’

Foaly had more weaponry crammed into the back of a single shuttle than most human police forces had in their entire arsenal. Every centimetre of wall space had a power cable screwed into it or a rifle dangling from a hook. The centaur sat in the centre, fine-tuning a Neutrino handgun. He tossed it to Holly as she entered the van.

She caught it deftly. ‘Hey, careful with that.’

Foaly snickered. ‘Don’t worry. The trigger hasn’t been coded yet. Nobody can fire this weapon until its computer registers an owner. Even if this weapon did fall into goblin hands, it would be useless to them. One of my latest developments. After the B’wa Kell rebellion, I thought it was time to upgrade our security.’

Holly wrapped her fingers round the pistol’s grip. A red scanner light ran the length of the plastic butt, then switched to green.

‘That’s it. You’re the owner. From now on, that Neutrino 3000 is a one-female gun.’

Holly hefted the transparent gun in her fist. ‘It’s too light. I prefer the 2000.’

Foaly brought the gun’s specifications up on a wall screen. ‘It’s light, but you’ll get used to it. On the plus side, there are no metal parts. It’s powered by kinetics, the motion of your body, with a back-up mini-nuke cell. Naturally, it’s linked to a targeting system in your helmet. The casing is virtually impregnable and, if I do say so myself, it’s a cool piece of hardware.’

Foaly passed a larger version of the gun to Root. ‘Every shot is registered on the LEP computer, so we can tell who fired, when they fired and in what direction. That should save Internal Affairs a lot of computer time.’ He winked at Holly. ‘Something you’ll be glad to hear.’

Holly leered back at the centaur. She was well known to IA. They had already conducted two inquiries into her professional conduct, and they would just love the opportunity to conduct a third. The one good thing about being promoted would be the looks on their faces when the commander pinned those major’s acorns to her lapel.

Root holstered his weapon. ‘OK. Now we can shoot. But what if we get shot?’

‘You won’t get shot,’ insisted Foaly. ‘I’ve hacked into the terminal scanners, and

I’ve planted a couple of sensors of my own too. There’s nothing in there that can harm you. Worst-case scenario, you trip over your own feet and get a sprained ankle.’

Root’s complexion reddened all the way down his neck. ‘Foaly, do I have to remind you that your sensors have been fooled before? In this very terminal, if I remember correctly.’

‘OK, OK. Take it easy, Commander,’ said Foaly under his breath. ‘I haven’t forgotten about last year. How could I, with Holly reminding me every five minutes?’

The centaur lifted two sealed suitcases on to a workbench. He keyed in a number sequence on their security pads, and popped the lids.

‘These are the next-generation Recon suits. I was planning to unveil them at the LEP conference next month, but with a real live commander going into action, you’d better have them today.’

Holly pulled a jumpsuit from the case. It glittered briefly, then turned the colour of the van walls.

‘The fabric is actually woven from cam foil, so you are virtually hidden all the time. It saves you using your magical shield,’ explained Foaly. ‘Of course the function can be turned off. The wings are built into this suit. A completely retractable whisper design, a brand new concept in wing construction. They take their power from a cell on your belt, and of course each wing is coated with mini-solars for above-ground flights.

The suits also have their own pressure equalizers, so you can go directly from one environment to another without getting the bends.’

Root held the second suit in front of him. ‘These must cost a fortune.’

Foaly nodded. ‘You have no idea. Half of my research budget for last year went on developing these suits. They won’t replace the old suit for five years at least. These two are the only operational models we have, so I would appreciate having them back.

They are shockproof, fire-resistant, invisible to radar and relay a continuous stream of diagnostic information back to Police Plaza. The current LEP helmet sends us basic vitals data, but the new suit sends a second stream of information that can tell us if your arteries are blocked, diagnose fractured bones and even detect dry skin. It’s a flying clinic. There’s even a bulletproof plate on the chest, in case a human shoots at you.’

Holly held the suit in front of a green plasma screen. The cam foil instantly turned emerald.

‘I like it,’ she said. ‘Green is my colour.’

Trouble Kelp had commandeered some spotlights left on-site by the movie company, and he directed them into the shuttle port’s lower level. The stark light picked out every floating speck of dust, giving the entire departures area an underwater feel.

Commander Root and Captain Short edged into the room, weapons drawn and visors down.

‘What do you think of the suit?’ asked Holly, automatically keeping track of the various displays on the inside of her visor. LEP trainees often had difficulties developing the double focus needed to watch both the terrain and their helmet screens. This often resulted in an action known as ‘filling the vase’, which was how LEP officers referred to throwing up in one’s helmet.

‘Not bad,’ replied Root. ‘Light as a feather, and you wouldn’t even know you were wearing wings. Don’t tell Foaly I said that, his head is swelled enough as it is.’

‘No need to tell me, Commander,’ said Foaly’s voice in his earpiece. The speakers were a new, gel-vibration variety, and it sounded as though the centaur were in the helmet with him. ‘I’m with you every step of the way, from the safety of the shuttle, of course.’

‘Of course,’ said Root dourly.

The pair advanced cautiously past a line of check-in booths. Foaly had assured them that there was no possible danger in this area of the terminal, but the centaur had been wrong before. And mistakes in the field cost lives.