Artemis Fowl 08 - The Last Guardian (21 page)

But nevertheless it was true, and she’d best believe it, or her quarry would escape.

They cannot go far.

Unless the vehicle flew as it was designed to.

It won’t fly. We have destroyed the battery.

This thing flies without power once it is airborne. My host has seen this with her own eyes.

Her good sense told her that she should stop and allow the plane to crash into the lake. If the passengers did not drown, then her archers could pick off the swimmers. But good sense was of little use on a night such as this, when ghost warriors roamed the earth and dwarfs rode once more on the backs of trolls, so Bellico decided she must do what she could to stop this plane from leaving the ground.

She increased her pace, outstripping the other Berserkers, using her long human legs to their full advantage, and hurled herself at the troll’s midsection, grabbing tufts of gray fur with one hand and the pirate sword with the other.

Gruff howled but kept pushing.

I am attacking a troll, she thought. I would never do this with my own body.

Bellico glanced upward through the tangle of limbs and saw the whole of the moon, gleaming above. Beneath that, she saw a dwarf in considerable discomfort, changing his grip to hold on to the plane’s body, flattening himself to the fuselage.

“Go,” the dwarf instructed the troll. “Back to your cave.” That is not good, thought Bellico. Not good at all.

The plane swept up the liftoff ramp into the air. At the same moment, Gruff obeyed his master and released his grip, sending himself and Bellico skipping across the lake like skimmed stones, which was a lot more painful than it sounds. Gruff had a coat of fur to protect his hide, but Bellico covered most of the distance on a face that would have water burns for several months.

Overhead, Mulch could hold on no longer. He released a jetstream of watery fat, wind, and half-digested foodstuff that gave the solar plane a few extra feet of lift, just enough to send it soaring out over the lake.

Bellico surfaced just in time to be clocked on the forehead by what could have been a dog’s skull.

I will not think about that,
she thought, and swam back toward the shore.

Artemis pumped the throttle for a second time, and the plane’s engine caught. The single nose propeller chugged, jerked, then spun faster and faster until its blades formed a continuous transparent circle.

“What happened?” Artemis wondered aloud. “What was that noise?”

“Wonder later,” said Holly, “and fly the plane now.”

This was a good idea, as they were by no means out of the woods yet. The engine was running, it was true, but there was no power in the solar battery, and they could only glide for a limited time at this altitude.

Artemis pulled the stick back, climbing to a hundred feet, and as the wider world spread out below them, the magnitude of the devastation wrought by Opal’s plan became obvious.

The roads into Dublin were lit by engine fires fed by fuel tanks and combustible materials. Dublin itself was blacked out, except for patches of orange lighting where generators had been patched up or bonfires lit. Artemis saw two large ships that had collided in the harbor, and another beached like a whale on the strand. There were too many fires to count in the city itself, and smoke rose and gathered like a thundercloud.

Opal plans to inherit this new earth, Artemis thought. I will not let her.

And it was this thought that pulled Artemis’s mind back into focus and set him scheming on a plan that could stop Opal Koboi for the final time.

They flew over the lake, but it was not graceful flight—in fact, it was more like prolonged falling. Artemis wrestled with controls that seemed to fight back as he struggled to keep their descent as gradual as possible.

They crested a row of pines and flew directly over the Berserker Gate, where Opal Koboi labored in a magical corona. Holly used the flyover as a chance to recon their enemy’s forces.

Opal was surrounded by a ring of Berserkers. There were pirates, clay warriors, and other assorted beings in the ring. The estate walls beyond were patrolled by more Berserkers. There were mostly animals on the walls—two foxes, and even some stag, clopping along the stone, sniffing the air.

No way in, thought Holly. And the sky is beginning to lighten.

Opal had given herself till sunrise to open the second lock.

Perhaps she will fail and the sunlight will do our work for us, thought Holly. But it was unlikely that Opal had made a mistake in her calculations. She had spent too long in her cell obsessing over every detail.

We cannot rely on the elements. If Opal’s plan is to fail, we must make it fail.

Beside her, Artemis was thinking the same thing, the only difference being that he had already laid the foundations of a plan in his mind.

If Artemis had voiced his plan at that moment, Holly would have been surprised. Not by the plan’s genius—she would expect no less—but because of its selflessness. Artemis Fowl planned to attack with the one weapon Opal Koboi would never suspect him of possessing: his humanity.

To deploy this stealth torpedo, Artemis would have to trust two people to be true their own personality defects.

Foaly would need to be as paranoid as he had always been.

And Opal Koboi’s rampant narcissism would need to have run so wild that she would not be able to destroy humanity without her enemies at hand to witness her glory.

Finally Holly could not sit and watch Artemis’s clumsy attempts at aviation any longer.

“Give me the stick,” she said. “Give it full flaps when we hit the ground. They’re going to be on us pretty quickly.”

Artemis relinquished control without objection. This was not the time for macho argument. Holly was undeniably ten times the pilot he would ever be, and also several times more macho than he was. Artemis had once seen Holly get into a fistfight with another elf who said her hair looked pretty, because she thought he was being sarcastic, as she was sporting a fresh crew cut on that particular day.

Holly didn’t go on many dates.

Holly nudged the stick with the heel of her hand, lining up the plane with the manor’s pebble driveway.

“The driveway is too short,” said Artemis.

Holly knelt on the seat for a better view. “Don’t worry. The landing gear will probably totally collapse on impact anyway.”

Artemis’s mouth twisted in what could have been an ironic smile or a grimace of terror.

“Thank goodness for that. I thought we were in real trouble.”

Holly struggled with the stick as though it were resisting arrest. “Trouble? Landing a crippled aircraft is just a normal Tuesday morning for us, Mud Boy.”

Artemis looked at Holly then and felt a tremendous affection for her. He wished that he could loop the past ten seconds and study it at a less stressful time so he could properly appreciate how fierce and beautiful his best friend was. Holly never seemed so vital as when she was balancing on the fine line between life and death. Her eyes shone and her wit was sharp. Whereas others would fall apart or withdraw, Holly attacked the situation with a vigor that made her glow.

She is truly magical, thought Artemis. Perhaps her qualities are more obvious to me now that I have decided to sacrifice myself.

Then he realized something.
I cannot reveal my plans to her. If Holly knew, she would try to stop me.

It pained Artemis that his last conversation with Holly would be by necessity peppered with misdirection and lies.

For the greater good.

Artemis Fowl, the human who had once lied as a matter of course, was surprised to find that in this instance, lying
for the greater good
did not make him feel any better about it.

“Here we go,” shouted Holly over the howl caused by the wind shear. “Shankle your bootbraces.”

Artemis tightened his seat belt. “Bootbraces shankled,” he called.

And not a millisecond too soon. The ground seemed to rush up to meet them, filling their view, blocking out the sky. Then, with a tremendous clatter, they were down, being showered by blurred stones. Long-stemmed flowers fell in funereal bouquets across the windshield, and the propeller buckled with an earsplitting shriek. Artemis felt his seat belt bite into both shoulders, arresting his leftward lean, which was just as well, because his head would have naturally come to rest exactly where a prop blade had thunked through the seat rest.

The small craft lost its wings sliding down the avenue, then flipped onto its roof, coming to a shuddering halt at the front steps.

“That could have been a lot worse,” said Holly, smacking her seat-belt buckle.

Indeed,
thought Artemis, watching blood on the tip of his nose seem to drip upward.

Suddenly something that looked like a giant, angry peach slid down what was left of the windshield, buckling the anti-shatter glass and coming to a wobbly stop on the bottom step.

Mulch made it, thought Artemis. Good.

Mulch literally crawled up the manor steps, desperate for food to replace his jettisoned fat. “Can you believe that supermodels do that every month?” he moaned.

Artemis beeped the door and the dwarf disappeared inside, clattering down the main hallway toward the kitchen.

It was left to Artemis and Holly to lug Butler the length of the steps, which in the bodyguard’s limp, unconscious state was about as easy as lugging a sack of anvils.

They had made it to the third step when an uncommonly bold robin redbreast fluttered down and landed on Butler’s face, hooking its tiny claws over the bridge of the bodyguard’s nose. This in itself would have been surprising enough, but the note clamped in the bird’s beak made the little creature altogether more sinister.

Artemis dropped Butler’s arm. “That was quick,” he said. “Opal’s ego doesn’t waste any time.”

Holly tugged the tiny scroll free. “You were expecting this?”

“Yes. Don’t even bother reading it, Holly. Opal’s words are not worth the paper they are written on, and I can tell that’s inexpensive paper.”

Of course Holly did read the note, and her cheeks glowed brighter with every word.

“Opal requests the pleasure of our company for the great cleansing. If we turn ourselves in, just me and you, then she will let your brothers live. Also she promises to spare Foaly, when she is declared empress.”

Holly balled the note and flicked it at the robin redbreast’s head. “You go and tell Opal no deal.”

The bird whistled aggressively and flapped its wings in a way that seemed insulting.

“You want to take me on, Berserker?” said Holly to the tiny bird. “Because I may have just crawled out of a plane crash, but I can still kick your tail feathers.”

The redbreast took off, its birdsong trailing behind it like a derisive chuckle as it flew back to its mistress.

“You’d better fly, Tweety!” Holly shouted after it, allowing herself an unprofessional outburst, and it did make her feel marginally better. Once the bird had disappeared over the tree line, she returned to her task.

“We must hurry,” she said, hooking her arm under Butler’s. “This is a trick. Opal will have more Berserkers on our tails. We’re probably being watched by…
worms…
right now.”

Artemis did not agree. “No. The gate is paramount now. She will not risk more soldiers hunting for us. But we must hurry all the same. Dawn is only a couple of hours away, and we have time for only one more assault.”

“So we’re ignoring that note, right?”

“Of course. Opal is toying with our emotions for her own gratification. Nothing more. She wishes to place herself in a position of power, emotionally.”

The steps were coated with seasonal ice crystals, which twinkled like movie frost in the moonlight. Eventually Artemis and Holly succeeded in rolling Butler over the threshold and onto a rug, which they dragged underneath the stairs, making the hefty bodyguard as comfortable as possible with some of the throw pillows that Angeline Fowl liked to strew casually on every chair.

Holly’s back clicked as she straightened. “Okay. Death cheated one more time. What’s next, brainiac?”

Holly’s words were glib, but her eyes were wider than usual, with desperation in the whites. They were so close to unthinkable disaster that it seemed even Artemis, with his knack of pulling last-minute miraculous rabbits out of his hat, could not possibly save humanity.

“I need to think,” said Artemis simply, quick-stepping up the stairs. “Have something to eat and maybe take a nap. This will take ninety minutes at least.”

Holly clambered after him, struggling up the human-size steps.

“Wait! Just wait,” she called, overtaking Artemis and looking him in the eye from one step up. “I know you, Artemis. You like to play your genius card close to your chest until the big reveal. And that’s worked out for us so far. But this time you need to let me in. I can help. So, tell me the truth, do you have a plan?”

Artemis met his friend’s gaze and lied to her face.

“No,” he said. “No plan.”

The LEP had several operatives working undercover in human theme parks around the world, because humans did not even bat an eyelash at the sight of a dwarf or fairy as long as they were standing beside a roller coaster or animatronic unicorn. Foaly had once reviewed footage from a ride in Orlando that the conspiracy theorists on the Council were certain was a training base for a secret government group of fairy killers. In this particular ride, the customers were put on a subway train that drove into an underground station. A station that was promptly subjected to every natural disaster known to man or fairy. First an earthquake split the tunnel, then a hurricane whipped up a storm of debris, then a flood pulled vehicles down from above, and finally an
honest-to-gods
lava stream lapped the windows.

When Foaly finally got back to his office, he looked down on the streets of Haven from the fourth floor of the Police Plaza building, and it occurred to him that his beloved city reminded him of that Orlando subway station. Totally trashed, almost beyond recognition.

But my city cannot be reassembled by the touch of a button.

Foaly pressed his forehead against the cool glass and watched the emergency services work their magic.

Paramedic warlocks treated the wounded with rapid bursts of magic from their insulated mitts. Firegnomes cut through girders with buzz-lasers, clearing paths for ambulances, and structural engineers rappelled from rock hooks, plugging fissures with flexi-foam.

It’s funny, thought Foaly. I always thought that the humans would destroy us.

The centaur placed his fingertips on the glass.
No. We are not destroyed. We will rebuild.

Any new tech had exploded, but there was plenty of outdated stuff that had not been recycled due to budget cuts. Most of the fire department vehicles were operational, and none of the backup generators had been refitted in the past five years. Commander Kelp was overseeing a clean-up operation on a scale never before seen in Haven. Atlantis had been hit just as badly, if not worse.

At least the dome was shored up. If that had imploded, the death count would have been huge. Not human huge, but pretty big all the same.

All because one psychotic pixie wanted to rule the world.

A lot of families lost someone today. How many fairies are sick with worry right now?

Foaly’s thoughts turned to Holly, stranded on the surface, trying to deal with this situation without LEP support.

If she’s even alive. If any of them are alive.

Foaly had no way of knowing. All of their long-range communication was out, as most of it was piggybacked on human satellites that had by now been reduced to space garbage.

Foaly tried to comfort himself with the thought that Artemis and Butler were with his friends.

If anyone can thwart Opal, it’s Artemis.

And then he thought,
Thwart?
I’m using words like
thwart
now. Opal would love that. It makes her sound like a supervillain.

Mayne clopped up beside him.

“
Mak dak jiball, Oncle
. We’ve got something on your lab screens.”

Foaly’s nephew had no difficulty speaking Unicorn, but the boy had some difficulty getting to the point.

“They’re big screens, Mayne. Usually, there’s something on them.”

Mayne scraped his forehoof. “I know that, but this is something interesting.”

“Really. Lots of interesting stuff going on today, Mayne. Can you specificate?”

Mayne frowned. “
Specificate
means to identify the species of a creature. Is that what you mean?”

“No. I meant can you be more specific?”

“About what species?”

Foaly scraped a hoof, scoring the tiling. “Just tell me what’s so interesting on the screen. We’re all busy here today, Mayne.”

“Have you been drinking sim-coffee?” his nephew wondered. “Because Aunty Caballine said you get a little jittery after two cups.”

“What’s on the screen?” thundered Foaly, in what he thought of as his majestic tone, but which was actually a little shrill.

Mayne reared back a few paces, then gathered himself, wondering why people always reacted to him in this way.

“You remember those ARClights you sent to Fowl Manor?”

“Of course I remember. They’re all dead. I send them, Artemis finds them. It’s a little game we play.”

Mayne jerked a thumb over his shoulder, toward the screen, where the blank square used to be.

“Well, one of those suckers just came back to life. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

Foaly aimed a kick at Mayne, but the youngster had already trotted out of range.

Artemis locked his office door behind him and gave the perimeter cams and sensors a cursory glance to make sure they were safe for the moment. It was as he expected. The only activity on the estate was over a mile away, where the Martello tower used to be and where the Berserker Gate now poked from Opal’s impact crater. As a precaution he set the alarm to the
SIEGE
setting, which featured deterrents not available on standard house systems, such as electrified windowpanes and flash bombs in the locks. Then again, Fowl Manor hadn’t been a standard house since Artemis had decided to keep his kidnapped fairy in the basement.

Once he was satisfied they were locked down, Artemis opened a coded drawer in his desk and pulled out a small lead box. He tapped the lid with a nail and was satisfied to hear a skittering inside.

Still alive, then.

Artemis slid the box open and inside, latched on to a three-volt battery, was a tiny bio-cam dragonfly. One of Foaly’s little toys, which were usually shorted out in Artemis’s regular bug sweeps; but he had decided to keep this one and feed it, in case he ever needed a private line through to Foaly. He had hoped to use this camera to announce the success of their assault on the Berserker Gate, but now the little bug would convey a more somber message.

Artemis shook the bug onto his desk, where it skittered around for a while before its face recognition software identified Artemis as the prime target and decided to focus in on him. The tiny lenses in its eyes buzzed almost inaudibly, and a couple of stemmed microphones extended like an ant’s antennae.

Leaning in close, Artemis began to speak softly so he could not possibly be overheard, even though his own sensors assured him that his was the only warm body of significant mass within twenty feet.

“Good morning, Foaly. I know there is not so much as an atom of Koboi technology in this little mutation, so in theory it can transmit, and I hope you are still alive to receive the transmission. Things are bad up here, my friend, very bad. Opal has opened the Berserker Gate and is working on the second lock. If she succeeds, a wave of coded earth magic will be released to destroy humanity utterly. This, in my opinion, is a bad thing. To stop this disaster from happening I need you to send me a couple of items in one of your drone mining eggs. There is no time for permits and committees, Foaly. These items must be in Fowl Manor in less than two hours, or it will be too late. Get what I need, Foaly.”

Artemis leaned in even closer to the tiny living camera and whispered urgently.

“Two things, Foaly. Two things to save the world.”

And he told the little bug what he needed and where exactly he needed them sent.

The color drained from Foaly’s face.

Koboi was working on the second lock.

This was catastrophic—though there were many fairies in Haven who would dance in the streets to celebrate the eradication of humanity, but no rational ones.

Two items.

The first wasn’t a problem. It was a
toy
, for heaven’s sake.

I think I have one in my desk.

But the second. The second.

That is a problem. A major problem.

There were legal issues and moral issues. If he even mentioned it to the Council, they would want to form a taskforce and a subcommittee.

What Artemis asked was technically possible. He did have a prototype mining egg in the testing area. All he had to do was program the coordinates into the navigation system, and the egg would speed toward the surface. Built to transport miners from cave-ins, the egg could withstand huge pressures and fly at the speed of sound three times around the world. So, Artemis’s time limit shouldn’t be a problem.

Foaly chewed a knuckle. Should he do what Artemis asked? Did he want to?

The centaur could ask himself questions until time had run out, but there was really only one question that mattered.

Do I trust Artemis?

Foaly heard breathing behind him and realized that Mayne was in the room.

“Who else has been in here?” he asked the technician.

Mayne snorted. “In here? You think the alpha fairies are going to hang around dork central when there’s a big old crisis going down? No one has been in here, and no one has seen this video. Except me.”

Foaly paced the length of his office. “Okay. Mayne, my young friend, how would you like a full-time job?”

Mayne squinted suspiciously. “What would I have to do?”

Foaly grabbed item number one from his desk drawer and headed for the door.

“Just your usual,” he replied. “Hang around the lab and be useless.”

Mayne made a copy of Artemis’s video just in case he was being implicated in some kind of treason.

“I could do that,” he said.