Artemis Fowl 08 - The Last Guardian (3 page)

Butler weighed in. “You can do all sorts of things with special effects these days. What if they computer-graphic her head to explode?”

Artemis was disappointed in this theory, which he felt he had already discounted. “No, Butler. Think. Again, there’s nothing to gain.”

Foaly snorted. “At any rate, if they do kill her, we will know very soon whether this whole thing is real or not.”

Artemis half laughed. “True. We will certainly know.”

Butler groaned. This was one of those times when Artemis and Foaly were aware of something
sciencey
and assumed that everyone else in the room also had all the facts. Moments like this were guaranteed to drive Holly crazy.

“What are you talking about?” shouted Holly. “What will we know? How will we know whatever it is?”

Artemis stared down at her as though waking from a dream. “Really, Holly? You have two versions of the same individual occupying a time stream, and you are unaware of the ramifications?”

Onscreen, the gnomes stood like statues behind the shivering pixie. The armed one, Pip, occasionally checked a wristwatch by tugging his sleeve with his gun barrel, but otherwise they waited patiently. Opal pleaded with her eyes, staring at the camera lens, fat tears streaming down her cheeks, sparkling in the sunlight. Her hair seemed thinner than usual and unwashed. Her Juicy Couture tracksuit, purchased no doubt from the children’s section of some exclusive store, was torn in several places, the rips caked in blood. The picture was super-high-def and so clear that it was like looking through a window. If this was a spurious threat, then young Opal did not know it.

Trouble pounded the desk, an affectation of Julius Root’s that he had adopted.

“What are the ramifications? Tell me?”

“Just to be clear,” said Artemis, “do you wish to be told what the word
ramifications
means? Or to know what the ramifications
are
?”

Holly elbowed Artemis in the hip, speeding him along. “Artemis, we’re on a clock here.”

“Very well, Holly. Here is the problem …”

“Come on,” pleaded Foaly. “Let me explain. This is my kingdom, and I will be simple and to the point, I promise.”

“Go on, then,” said Trouble, who was known for his love of
simple and to the point.

Holly laughed, a single harsh bark. She could not believe everyone continued to act like their everyday selves even though a life was at stake.

We have become desensitized, like the humans.

Whatever Opal had done, she was still a person. There had been dark days when Holly had dreamed of hunting the pixie down and issuing a little Mud Man justice, but those days were gone.

Foaly tugged at his outrageously coiffed forelock.

“All beings are made of energy,” he began in the typical pompous
imparting important info
voice that he used at times like this. “When these beings die, their energy slowly dissipates and returns to the earth.” He paused dramatically. “But what if a being’s entire existence is suddenly negated by a quantum anomaly?”

Trouble raised his arms. “Whoa! Simple and to the point, remember?”

Foaly rephrased. “Okay. If young Opal dies, then old Opal cannot continue to exist.”

It took Trouble a second, but he got it. “So, will it be like the movies? She will fizzle out of existence, and we will all look a bit puzzled for a moment, then forget about her?”

Foaly snickered. “That’s one theory.”

“What’s the other theory?”

The centaur paled suddenly, and uncharacteristically yielded the floor to Artemis.

“Why don’t you explain this bit?” Foaly said. “I just flashed on what could actually happen, and I need to start making calls.”

Artemis nodded curtly. “The
other
theory was first postulated by your own Professor Bahjee over five centuries ago. Bahjee believes that if the time stream is polluted by the arrival of the younger version of a being and that younger version subsequently dies, then the present-tense version of the being will release all its energy spontaneously and violently. Not only that, but anything that exists because of the younger Opal will also combust.”

Violently
and
combust
were words that Commander Kelp understood well.

“Release its energy? How violently?”

Artemis shrugged. “That depends on the object or being. Matter is changed instantaneously into energy. A huge explosive force will be released. We could even be talking about nuclear fission.”

Holly felt her heart speed up. “Fission? Nuclear fission?”

“Basically,” said Artemis. “For living beings. The objects should cause less damage.”

“Anything Opal made or contributed to will explode?”

“No. Just the things she influenced in the past five years of our time line, between her two ages, though there will probably be some temporal ripples on either side.”

“Are you talking about all of her company’s weapons that are still in commission?” asked Holly.

“And the satellites,” added Trouble. “Every second vehicle in the city.”

“It is just a theory,” said Artemis. “There is yet another theory that suggests nothing at all will happen, other than one person dying. Physics trumps quantum physics, and things go on as normal.”

Holly found herself red-faced with sudden fury. “You’re talking as though Opal is already dead.”

Artemis was not sure what to say. “We are staring into the abyss, Holly. In a short time, many of us could be dead. I need to stay detached.”

Foaly looked up from his computer panel. “What do you think about the percentages, Mud Boy?”

“Percentages?”

“Theory-wise.”

“Oh, I see. How likely are the explosions?”

“Exactly.”

Artemis thought about it. “All things considered, I would say about ninety percent. If I were a betting man and there were someone to take this kind of bet, I would put my last gold coin on it.”

Trouble paced the small office. “We need to release Opal. Let her go immediately.”

Now Holly was uncertain. “Let’s think about this, Trubs.”

The commander turned on her. “Didn’t you hear what the human said? Fission! We can’t have fission underground.”

“I agree, but it could still be a trick.”

“The alternative is too terrible. We turn her loose and hunt her down. Get Atlantis on the line now. I need to speak to the warden at the Deeps. Is it still Vinyáya?”

Artemis spoke quietly but with the commanding tone that had made him a natural leader since the age of ten.

“It’s too late to free Opal. All we can do is save her life. That’s what she planned for all along.”

“Save her life?” objected Trouble. “But we still have…” Commander Kelp checked the countdown clock. “Ten minutes.”

Artemis patted Holly’s shoulder, then stepped away from her. “If fairy bureaucracy is anything like the human kind, you won’t be able to get Opal into a shuttle in that time. What you might be able to do is get her down to the reactor core.”

Kelp had not yet learned the hard way to shut up and let Artemis explain, and so kept asking questions, slowing down the process, wasting valuable seconds.

“Reactor core? What reactor core?”

Artemis raised a finger. “One more question, Commander, and I will be forced to have Butler restrain you.”

Kelp was a breath away from ejecting Artemis or charging him with something, but the situation was critical and if there was a chance that this human could in some way help…

He clenched his fists till his fingers creaked. “Okay. Talk.”

“The Deeps is powered by a natural fission reactor in a uranium ore layer set on a bed of granite similar to the one in Oklo, Gabon,” said Artemis, tugging the facts from his memory. “The People’s Power Company harvests the energy in small pods set into the uranium. These pods are constructed with science and magic to withstand a moderate nuclear blast. This is taught in schools here. Every fairy in the room knows this, correct?”

Everyone nodded. Technically it was correct, as they did know it
now
.

“If we can place Opal inside the pod before the deadline, then the blast will at least be contained and theoretically, if we pump in enough anti-rad foam, Opal might even retain her physical integrity. Though
that
is something I would not bet my last gold coin on. Opal, apparently, is prepared to take the risk.”

Trouble was tempted to poke Artemis in the chest but wisely resisted. “You’re saying that all of this is an elaborate escape plan?”

“Of course,” said Artemis. “And not all that elaborate. Opal is forcing you to release her from her cell. The alternative is the utter destruction of Atlantis and every soul in it, which is unthinkable to anyone except Opal herself.”

Foaly had already brought up the prison plans. “The reactor core is less than a hundred yards below Opal’s cell. I’m contacting the warden now.”

Holly knew that Artemis was a genius and that there was no one more qualified to second-guess kidnappers. But still, they had options.

She gazed at the figures onscreen and was chilled by how casual the gnomes seemed, in the light of what they were about to do. They slouched like adolescents, barely glancing at their captive, cocky in their abilities and not even a jot self-conscious about their cartoon-character smart-masks, which “read” their faces and displayed the appropriate emotions in exaggerated cartoon style. Smart-masks were very popular with the karaoke crowd, who could then look like their idols as well as trying to sound like them.

Perhaps they don’t know exactly what’s at stake here, Holly thought suddenly. Perhaps they are as clueless as I was ten seconds ago.

“Can they hear us?” she asked Foaly.

“They can, but we haven’t responded yet. Just press the button.”

This was just an old figure of speech; there was of course no actual button, just a sensor on the touch screen.

“Hold it, Captain!” ordered Trouble.

“I am a trained negotiator, sir,” said Holly, hoping the respect in her tone would get her what she wanted. “And I was once …” She glanced guiltily at Artemis, sorry that she had to play this card. “I was once a hostage myself, so I know how these things go. Let me talk to them.”

Artemis nodded encouragingly, and Holly knew that he understood her tactics.

“Captain Short is correct, Commander,” he said. “Holly is a natural communicator. She even managed to get through to me.”

“Do it,” barked Trouble. “Foaly, you keep trying to reach Atlantis. And assemble the Council; we need to begin evacuating both cities now.”

Though you could not see their real faces, the gnomes’ cartoon expressions were bored now. It was in the slant of their heads and the bend of their knees. Perhaps this whole thing was not as exciting as they hoped it would be. After all, they could not see their audience, and no one had responded to their threats. What had started out as a revolutionary action was now beginning to look like two big gnomes picking on a pixie.

Pip waggled his gun at Kip, and the meaning was clear.
Why don’t we just shoot her now?

Holly activated the microphone with a wave of her hand.

“Hello, you there. This is Captain Holly Short of the LEP. Can you hear me?”

The gnomes perked up immediately, and Pip even attempted a whistle, which came through the vox-box as a raspberry.

“Hey, Captain Short. We heard of you. I’ve seen pictures. Not too shabby, Captain.”

Holly bit back a caustic retort. Never force a kidnapper to demonstrate his resolve.

“Thank you, Pip. Should I call you Pip?”

“You, Holly Short, can call me anything and
any time
you like,” squeaked Pip, and he extended his free hand toward his partner for a knuckle bump.

Holly was incredulous. These two were about to totally incapacitate the entire fairy world, and they were goofing about like two goblins at a fireball party.

“Okay, Pip,” she continued evenly. “What can we do for you today?”

Pip shook his head sorrowfully at Kip. “Why are the pretty ones always stupid?” He turned to the camera. “You know what you can do for us. We told you already. Release Opal Koboi, or the younger model is gonna take a long sleep. And by that I mean, get shot in the head.”

“You need to give us some time to show good faith. Come on, Pip. One more hour? For me?”

Pip scratched his head with the gun barrel, pretending to consider it. “You are cute, Holly. But not
that
cute. If I give you another hour, you’ll track me down somehow and drop a time-stop on my head. No thanks, Cap. You have ten minutes. If I was you, I would get that cell open or call the undertaker.”

“This kind of thing takes time, Pip,” persisted Holly, repeating the name, forging a bond. “It takes three days to pay a parking fine.”

Pip shrugged. “Not my problem, babe. And you can call me Pip all day and it won’t make us BFFs. It ain’t my real name.”

Artemis deactivated the microphone. “This one is smart, Holly. Don’t play with him, just tell the truth.”

Holly nodded and switched on the mike. “Okay, whatever your name is. Let me give it to you straight. There’s a good chance that if you shoot young Opal, then we’re going to have a series of very big explosions down here. A lot of innocent people will die.”

Pip waved his gun carelessly. “Oh yeah, the quantum laws. We know about that, don’t we, Kip?”

“Quantum laws,” said Kip. “Of course we know about that.”

“And you don’t care that good fairies, gnomes that could be related to you, will die?”

Pip raised his eyebrows so that they jutted over the top of the mask. “You like any of your family, Kip?”

“Ain’t got no family. I’m an orphan.”

“Really? Me too.”

While they bantered, Opal shivered in the dirt, trying to speak through the tape. Foaly would get voice analysis on the muffled mumbles later—if there
was
a later—but it didn’t take a genius to figure out she was pleading for her life.

“There must be something you need,” said Holly.

“There is one thing,” replied Pip. “Could I get your com-code? I sure would love to hook up for a sim-latte when this is all over. Might be a while, of course, what with Haven City being in ruins.”