The Time Paradox (7 page)

“Of course,” said the demon. “Several times. On a simulator. And two of the holograms survived.”

Artemis’s determination barely flickered. “Two survived. The last two?”

“No,” admitted N
^o
1. “The last two were trapped in a time wormhole and consumed by quantum zombies.”

Holly felt her pointy ears tingle, always a bad sign. Elfin ears could sense danger.

“Quantum zombies? You’re not serious.”

“That’s what I said to Qwan. He wrote the program.”

“This is irrelevant,” said Artemis sharply. “We have no option but to go.”

“Very well,” said N
^o
1, flexing his fingers. He bent his knees and rested his entire body weight on the tip of his tail.

“Power posture,” he explained. “I do some of my best work in this position.”

“So does Mulch Diggums,” muttered Foaly. “Quantum zombies. I need to get a copy of
that
program.”

A red haze blossomed around the demon warlock, tiny lightning bolts crackling across his horns.

“He’s powering up,” said Foaly from the screens. “You’ll be off any second. Remember, try not to touch anything you don’t have to. Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t contact me in the past. I have no desire not to exist.”

Artemis nodded. “I know. Make as little impact as possible, in case the time paradox theory has some merit.”

Holly was impatient to get going. “Enough science. Just blast us into the past. We’ll bring the monkey back.”

“Lemur,” said Artemis and Foaly together.

N
^o
1 closed his eyes. When he opened them again they were pure crimson.

“Okay, ready to go,” he said conversationally.

Artemis blinked. He was expecting N
^o
1’s voice of power to be a bit less squeaky. “Are you sure?”

N
^o
1 groaned. “I know. It’s the voice, isn’t it. Not enough gravel. Qwan says I should go for less airy and more fairy. Trust me, I’m ready. Now hold hands.”

Artemis and Holly stood there in their underwear, gingerly locking fingers. They had crossed space and time together, weathered rebellions, and tangled with demented despots. Coughed blood, lost digits, inhaled dwarf fumes, and swapped eyeballs, yet they found holding hands awkward.

N
^o
1 knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t resist a parting crack.

“I now pronounce you . . .”

Neither hand-holder was amused, but before they had time to do more than scowl, twin bolts of red energy crackled from N
^o
1’s eyes, blasting his friends into the time stream.

“Man and elf,” he said, finishing his joke, then chuckling delightedly.

On screen, Foaly snorted. “I’m guessing you’re laughing to cover your anxiety?”

“Exactly right,” said N
^o
1.

Where Artemis and Holly had been standing, there were flickering copies of them both, mouths open to object to N
^o
1’s comment.

“That really freaks me out, the ghost images. It’s like they’re dead.”

Foaly shuddered. “Don’t say that. If they’re dead, we all could be. How soon will they be back?”

“In about ten seconds.”

“And if they’re not back in ten seconds?”

“Then never.”

Foaly started counting.

CHAPTER 6

There is a moment
of confusion when a land animal enters the water. Beast, human, or fairy, it doesn’t matter. The surface is broken and every sense is suddenly shocked. The cold stings, motion slows, and the eyes are filled with smears of color and the snap of bursting bubbles. The time stream is like that moment sustained.

That’s not to say that traveling through the time stream is a consistent experience. Never the same journey twice. The demon warlock Qwan, who was the planet’s most experienced time-traveling fairy, wrote in his best-selling autobiography,
Qwan: My Time Is Now
, that
riding the time stream is like flying through a dwarf’s intestine. There are very nice free-flowing stretches, but then you turn a corner to find the thing backed up and putrid. The problem being that the time stream is largely an emotional construct, and it absorbs ambient
feelings from the real time it flows around. If you happen across a stretch of foul-smelling gunk, you can bet that the humans are killing something.

Artemis and Holly were being dragged through a foul-smelling stretch that corresponded with an entire ecosystem being destroyed in South America. They could sense the animals’ terror and even smell the charred wood.

Artemis felt too that Holly was losing herself in the maelstrom of emotions. Fairies were so much more sensitive to their environments than humans. If Holly lost concentration, her atoms would dissipate and be absorbed by the stream.

Focus, Holly
, Artemis broadcast into the stream.
Remember who you are and why we are here.

It was difficult for them both. Their particle memory had already been weakened by the Limbo journeys, and the temptation to meld with the stream was strong.

Artemis conjured a picture of his mother in his consciousness to bolster his determination.

I know when and where I want to be, he thought. Exactly when and where . . .

Artemis and Holly exited the time stream and entered ten-year-old Artemis’s study. Physically this was a gentle enough experience, like jumping from a low wall onto thick carpet, but emotionally this particular trip was like a ten-minute blitz of the worst memories of their lives. The time stream: never the same ride twice.

Holly cried for her mother for a minute, but eventually the persistent chiming of a grandfather clock reminded her of where and when she was. She stood shakily and looked around her to find Artemis lurching toward the wardrobe. The sight of him cheered her a little.

“You have really let yourself go,” she said.

Artemis was rummaging through the clothes on the rail.

“Of course nothing will fit,” he muttered. “All too small.”

Holly elbowed past him. “Not for me,” she said, pulling a dark suit from its hanger.

“My first suit,” said Artemis fondly. “For the family Christmas postcard. I had no idea really how to wear it. I remember fidgeting throughout the fitting. It’s a Zegna, custom made.”

Holly tore off a protective polyethylene wrap. “So long as it fits.”

It was only then that Artemis’s emotions settled enough for him to register Holly’s comment.

“What do you mean, I have let myself go?”

Holly swung the wardrobe door so that its mirrored side faced Artemis.

“See for yourself,” she said.

Artemis looked. In the mirror he saw a tall, slender boy, his face all but invisible under a wild mop of shoulder-length hair and even some bristles on his chin.

“Ah. I see.”

“I’m surprised you do,” said Holly. “Through all that hair.”

“Accelerated aging. A side effect of the time stream,” Artemis hypothesized, unconcerned. “When we return, the effects should be reversed.” He paused, catching sight of Holly’s reflection. “Perhaps you should check
yourself
in the mirror. I am not the only one to have changed.”

Holly elbowed him aside, certain she was being kidded, but the half-smile died on her lips when she saw the fairy in the looking glass. It was her own face, but different, missing a few scars and a few decades’ wear and tear.

“I am young,” she gasped. “Younger.”

“Don’t be upset,” said Artemis briskly. “It is temporary. All this is nothing more than dress-up. My physical maturity, your youth. In a moment or two we will be back in the stream.”

But Holly
was
upset. She knew how this had happened.

I was thinking of Mother. Of our last hours together. Of how I was then.

And so that was how she had changed.

Look at me. Just out of the academy. In human terms, barely older than Artemis.

For some reason, this was a disturbing thought.

“Get some pants on,” she snapped, buttoning a crisp white shirt up to her neck. “Then we can discuss your theories.”

Artemis used his extra inches to reach up and tug a large box from the top of the wardrobe. In it were neatly folded layers of clothes, destined for one of Angeline Fowl’s charity shops.

He tossed a silver wig to Holly.

“Seventies fancy dress party,” he explained. “Mother went as a starship trooper, I seem to remember. Now cover those pointy ears.”

“A hat would be easier,” said Holly, pulling the wig over her auburn crew cut.

“No such luck, I’m afraid,” sighed Artemis, selecting an old tracksuit from the box. “This is not exactly Harrods; we will have to make do.”

Artemis’s old loafers fit Holly well enough, and there were a pair of his father’s sneakers in the box, which stayed on his feet when the toes were stuffed.

“Always good to be dressed when you’re stealing monkeys,” said Holly.

Artemis rolled up the tracksuit sleeves. “There’s no need to dress at all, really. We simply wait for a few minutes, until my mother almost catches Butler sneaking upstairs with the lemur. I remember him sliding the cage through the doorway, then I brought her back upstairs. The moment that cage comes in here, we grab it, take off these ridiculous clothes, and wish our way back to N
^o
1.”

Holly checked herself in the mirror. She looked like a presidential bodyguard—from another planet. “That sounds so simple.”

“It was simple. Will be. Butler never even entered the study. All we need to do is stand here and wait.”

“And how did you find this particular moment?”

Artemis swept a sheaf of black hair back from his brow, revealing mismatched sorrowful eyes.

“Listen,” he said, pointing toward the ceiling.

Holly tucked strands of silver hair behind one ear and cocked her head to one side to focus her considerable sense of hearing. She heard the grandfather clock, and the time travelers’ beating hearts, but above them there was a strident, hysterical voice.

“Mother,” said Artemis, eyes downcast. “It was the first time that she did not recognize me. She is at this moment threatening to call the police. In a moment she runs downstairs to the phone, and discovers Butler.”

Holly understood. How could any son forget a moment like that one? Finding it again must have been easy and painful.

“I remember it clearly. We had just returned from Rathdown Park, the private zoo, and I thought I should check how she was feeling before flying to Morocco. In a month from now, she won’t be able to look after herself anymore.”

Holly squeezed his forearm. “It’s fine, Artemis. This is all in the past. In a few minutes your mother will be back on her feet. She will love you as she always has.”

Artemis nodded glumly. He knew it was probably true, but he also knew that he would never fully escape the specter of this bad memory.

Upstairs, Angeline Fowl’s voice moved from her bedchamber to the upper landing, trailing shrill notes behind her.

Artemis pulled Holly back against the wall.

“Butler will be on the stairs now. We should keep to the shadows, just in case.”

Holly couldn’t help a flutter of nerves. “You’re sure he stays outside? The last time I faced Butler as an enemy, I had the entire LEP on my side. I don’t relish the thought of meeting him armed with nothing more than a silver wig.”

“Calm yourself, Captain,” said Artemis, unconsciously patronizing. “He stays outside. I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Saw what with your own eyes?” asked Butler, who had appeared in the archway behind them, having let himself in through the adjoining bedroom door.

Artemis felt his pulse throb in his fingertips. How could this be? This was not the way it had happened. Artemis had never been on the receiving end of Butler’s glare before, and understood for the first time just how terrifying his bodyguard could be.

“You two kids have been helping yourselves to the Fowl wardrobe, I see,” continued Butler without waiting for an answer to his question. “Now, are you going to cause a fuss or are you going to come quietly? Let me give you a hint: the correct answer is
come quietly
.”

Magic is the only way out, Holly realized.

She twisted her chin sharply to call on her fairy power. If she couldn’t stun Butler, she would
mesmerize
him.

“Stand down, human,” she intoned, voice loaded with hypnotic magic. But the
mesmer
is a two-pronged attack, audio and visual. Butler could hear the magical words, but eye contact was not consistent in the shadows.

“What?” he said, surprised. “How did you . . .” The hulking bodyguard had been drugged enough times to realize that his will was being sapped. Somehow these kids were putting him under. He staggered backward, his shoulder bashing against the arch.

“Sleep, Butler,” said the little one in the starship trooper wig.

She knows me?

This was serious. These two had done some surveillance and decided to break in anyway.

I have to neutralize them before I pass out, thought Butler. If I go down, Master Artemis and Mrs. Fowl are defenseless.

He had two options: fall on the midget burglars or shoot them with the tranquilizer pistol he was carrying for the planned animal abduction at Rathdown Park.

He chose the second option. At least tranquilizer darts would not smother these two or crush their bones. Butler felt mildly guilty about his decision to “tranq” a couple of kids, but not overly so; after all, he worked for Artemis Fowl and knew exactly how dangerous children could be.

The starship trooper came out of the shadows, and Butler could see her eyes clearly. One blue, one tawny.

“Sleep, Butler,” she said again in that melodious layered voice. “Aren’t your eyelids heavy? Sleep.”

She’s hypnotizing me! Butler realized. He dragged out the pistol with fingers that felt as though they had been dipped in molten rubber then sprinkled with ball bearings.

“
You
sleep,” he mumbled, then shot the girl in the hip.

Holly stared in disbelief at the hypodermic dart sticking out of her leg.

“Not again,” she moaned, then collapsed to the floor.

Butler’s head cleared immediately. The other intruder did not move an inch.

The little girl is the professional of the two, thought Butler, climbing to his feet. I wonder what this scruffy individual contributes to the partnership.

Artemis quickly saw that he had no choice but to reveal his identity and enlist Butler as an ally.

This will be difficult. I have nothing more than a passing resemblance to my younger self as proof.

Still, he had to try before his plan unraveled utterly.

“Listen, Butler,” he began. “I have something to tell you—”

Butler didn’t entertain another word. “No, no, no,” he said briskly, shooting Artemis in the shoulder. “No more talking from either of you.”

Artemis pulled out the dart, but it was too late. The tiny reservoir of sedative was empty.

“Butler!”he gasped, dropping to his knees.“You shot me.”

“Everyone knows my name,” sighed the bodyguard, bending to sling the intruders over his shoulders.

“I am intrigued,” said ten-year-old Artemis Fowl, studying the two individuals in the Bentley trunk. “Something extraordinary has happened here.”

“Hardly extraordinary,” said Butler, checking the girl’s pulse. “Two thieves somehow broke into the manor.”

“They bypassed all the security. Not so much as a blip on the motion sensors?”

“Nothing. I just happened on them during a routine sweep. Hiding in the shadows, wearing cast-offs from the wardrobe.”

Artemis tapped his chin. “Hmm. So you didn’t find their clothes.”

“Not a stitch.”

“Which would mean that they broke in here and bypassed security in their underwear.”

“That is extraordinary,” admitted Butler.

Artemis took a penlight from his jacket pocket and shone it on Holly, setting the strands of her silver wig sparkling like a disco ball. “There’s something about this one. Her bone structure is very unusual. The cheekbones are high, Slavic, perhaps, and the brow is wide and childlike. But the proportion of skull to torso is adult, not infant.”

Butler chuckled low in his throat. “So they’re aliens?”

“The young man is human, but she’s something else,” said Artemis thoughtfully. “Genetically enhanced, perhaps.” He moved the beam of light along her cheekbone.“See here. The ears are pointed. Amazing.”

Artemis felt an excitement buzzing on his forehead. Something was happening here. Something important. There were surely serious amounts of money to be earned from this situation.

He rubbed his palms briskly. “Very well. I cannot be distracted by this now. Long term, this strange creature could make our fortune, but right now we need to get that lemur.”

Butler was crestfallen but covered it by slamming the trunk. “I had hoped we could forget the monkey. I was trained in several forms of martial arts; none of them had a monkey defense.”

“It’s a lemur, Butler. And I am aware that you believe this operation is beneath us, but my father’s life is at stake.”

“Of course, Artemis. Whatever you say.”

“Exactly. So here is the plan. We will proceed to Rathdown Park as planned, and after we have done the deal with the Extinctionists, then I can decide what to do with our two guests. I presume they will be safe in the trunk?”