Everyone was staring aptly at the stage as the operatic soprano held a high C. Besides the large, muscular bodyguard in the front row of the elevated seating, using the binoculars instead to search for suspicious persons in the area. And occasionally sneak a close up of the young lady's chest who was sitting a few rows in front of the platform. Then the sky started falling, or rather the ceiling. The blue and white painted stones began to crumble and crash around the audience's ears. People ran and screamed, some almost as high as the performer. Lights short circuited and the thunderous thud of falling boulders stunned many people. The same young lady was in such a state.
Everyone around her had jumped up and away from their seats, but she had only made it to up before her panic took over. Just as an unintentional murder weapon was in line with her body, a fishing line thin grappling hook snagged on her dress and she was pulled to safety as her hero pressed the recall button. She flew through the air and her momentum carried her into the savior, catapulting them both back, just in time to land under a row of seats and avoid the newest falling obstacle.
Ragged coughing emitted from nearly everyone's mouth. That is, everyone who wasn't crushed.
Beneath the red velvet seats, two people were doing the same. One, the elder, was managing to issue rapid advice as well. While removing evidence of non-human technology as well.
"Are you okay?" he calmly asked our main character.
"I think so," she replied between coughs.
"Take off your sweater and breath through the inside to avoid inhaling any more dust." She hurried to comply, and in the cramped space accidently hit her companion a few times. They lay side by side, him tilted slightly on top of her and one of his powerful arms still wrapped around her. He suffered a coughing fit and pulled it back. Freeing her, except for the stone and plaster pile on all sides of her.
"Artemis," he called out, she attempted to voice a question but he pressed a large finger to her lips, silencing her.
"Artemis!" he tried again, more desperate. In his moment of weakness that he spent saving the attractive young woman who sat in front of him, he lost track of his charge.
"I am located a few feet to your right, old friend," his eerie voice responded, shaken but alive.
"Are you and your mother safe?"
"I believe that is the case, though she has yet to speak so I may be mistaken." Confusion and worry clouded the girl's brain. Who is this man who saved me? And who is he talking to? And if someone hasn't spoken, wouldn't that be a problem? But she didn't voice them for fear that the muscular rescuer would become aggravated.
"Alright, I'm going to try and find a way through to you," he called out as he shifted and grabbed a flashlight from his belt.
"Wait, don't do that," she ordered as he pawed at the rubble.
"Why not?"
"You can't shift the debris, it could collapse the whole thing!"
"Trust me, i know what i'm doing," he said, resuming his dangerous activity.
"Look, whoever you were talking to is safe, but who knows what you could displace by moving a low level around, your movements could cause his death." He stopped for a moment longer than before, considering this, but then began again.
"I know what I'm doing," he repeated. Shortly, and to her great surprise, a tunnel was dug through to the mystery converser.
"You shouldn't go through there," she warned him.
"Well, i am. You can come with me, or stay here alone, it's your choice." weighing her odds of survival without a group and in the small, most likely unstable cranny, she followed him through.
"Wait here," he said, poking his head back into the tunnel while she was still half-way through. She heard hoarse whispers and what could be an argument. Then his head reappeared.
"Come on through," he said and she hurriedly crawled the rest of the way. She exited into a small almost tee-pee like structure. From the flashlight she could tell three large hunks of the ceiling fell centered around the area and were supporting each other, then the spaces between filled up with smaller debris. Luckily there was a hole at the top where the real darkening sky was visible, oxygen wasn't a problem. It was a roughly circular floor about six feet in diameter, seven feet high.
"Now," said a voice that was eerily adult but belonged to young male yet to pass through puberty, "Butler, my bodyguard, has informed me that you are an unknown." The silence was a clear indicator of my confusion. He sighed in a condescending manner and explained.
"We know nothing about you; for all we know you could be the person who designed this disaster. Or an assassin sent to kill me or my mother."
"What?" she sputtered. "That's ridiculous!"
"Do you know who I am?"
"No, I'm an American who doesn't even bother to keep track of celebrities in my country, sorry I can't recognize Irish ones too," she snappily replied.
"I am not a mere celebrity," he said, sneering out the last word.
"Well your ego is saying differently."
"I am Artemis Fowl the Second, heir to a vast and monopolized criminal enterprise. Does that ring any bells?"
"Now that you mention it...no."
"Very well. Will you consent to a search?"
"To a what?"
"My, the depth of your naivety shows more clearly with each passing moment." She glared, though the dim light emitted from the flashlight failed to show it. "A pat down, essentially." She could have sworn the temperature in the artificial cave skyrocketed.
"In all honesty I'd rather not."
"Your other option is to remain unconscious until this ordeal is over."
"How would you manage to do that to me?" She questioned, crossing her arms defensively.
"Simply. Butler is trained in many areas of combat and one has to do with nerve clusters, far too complex to divulge into details, especially for one with an intelligence such as yourself, but suffice to say that he could successfully render you unconscious for an indefinite period."
"I'll take the search," she grit out between clenched teeth, displeased that for the third time in as many minutes her intelligence was being questioned.
"Very well, Butler," he said, ordering him to proceeded. Feeling grateful for the dim light that hid his blush, Butler brushed his hands over her delicate body, searching for any hidden weapons he was almost positive would not be there. She adverted her eyes and shivered unintentionally when his massive hands touched her inner thighs. Just when she was certain the search was complete, there was an increased darkness at the corners of her vision which quickly spread inward until unconsciousness took over.
"And?" Artemis questioned.
"She checks out, but..."
"But?" he asked curious what his manservant failed to say.
"She could easily be hiding a weapon in her *ahem* cleavage." Artemis shuffled over to where Butler kneeled over the stranger's unconscious body. It would be quite a vast area to go unsearched.
"And so you must check it."
"Artemis..." it was almost a plead.
"It's not like you haven't seen a woman's chest before,' he said, dismissing the issue.
"It's a severe invasion of her privacy!" Artemis rolled his eyes.
"Like nothing else was. Just do it."
"On those grounds we should put a scope up her arse and...in between her legs."
"Yes, actually, we should, and as my body guard you should be eliminating all possibilities that there is an enemy in this girl. Unfortunately, we do not have the equipment for that.."
"Look, she doesn't have an athletic built. She's not fat, but she doesn't have the sinewy muscle one would find on a trained assassin."
"Butler, I understand that you are a man of honor, but I fail to see how that is taking over the responsibility you have to me, your principle. That has always come first to you, have I done something to upset you?"
"No, nothing like that. It's just she is so innocent, i just don't think it's necessary." He paused. In truth, it was that, but also he was afraid if he began to touch her there, he would have detectible difficulty stopping. "But you're right, your safety comes first." With that he laid both his hands on her breasts, pushed down to insure their authenticity, and spread them, running his thumb down the deep and long split. Reluctantly, he pulled the top of her navy blue dress back up and walked away, facing the tunnel he made. Mrs. Fowl choose that moment to speak, making them both start. Artemis more visibly than Butler.
"Is she okay?"
"Yes, Mrs. Fowl, she checks out." Angeline's red and black dress rustled as she slithered over to the girl. She took the flashlight and shone it on the stranger's features. Giving a slight gasp, she ran her free hand over her own detraining facial features.
"Pretty," she murmured and backed away. About thirty minutes later, in which Artemis contacted the police, one more confirming call, emergency sirens were heard, and the procedure of freeing those trapped and alive very slowly began, she finally began stirring. With a slight incoherent mumble, she opened her eyes, and once she regained her bearings, she was furious.
"So, in exactly what part of the search did i fail?"
"I beg your pardon?" Artemis asked, honestly confused.
"Your bodyguard knocked me out, so what in what aspect was i considered dangerous?" Artemis arched an eyebrow.
"Firstly, he did not 'knock you out, it was a pinch to a nerve clust-"
"Whatever. Answer the question.
"You made an interesting deduction, however incorrect. Had you been dangerous, you would not have regained consciousness until we were long separated."
"How comforting. Then why was I 'pinched' unconscious?" Butler coughed to conceal a laugh.
"In order for us to assess in private whether or not you posed a threat." She crossed her arms and glared, displeased being talked about in secret. Mrs. Fowl chose that moment to interrupt a potentially dangerous situation.
"What is your name?" she asked in a ghostly whisper.
"Nadalia. Nadalia Dilliane," she answered.
"I'm Angeline, this is my son, Arty, he's twelve. And this is his body guard, Butler," she said, extending a frail hand.
"Mom!" he scolded. "Don't use my nickname," he exclaimed. Nadalia hid a grin behind her hand.
"It's nice to meet you," she said, curious where this new stranger appeared from.
"So you're American?" she asked.
"Yes, I am, but don't hold that against me," Nadalia replied, grinning.
"I wouldn't dream of it," Mrs. Fowl said, her pervious spirit coming back exceptionally quickly. Unseen by the two chatting women, Butler and Artemis exchanged a glance. They were both unboundly curious as to what brought Mrs. Fowl back from her internal withdrawal. Artemis cleared his throat pointedly, interrupting the conversation before Mrs. Fowl could disclose the sudden vast amount of gold the Fowls had recently acquired.
"Butler, as you are the expert in survival and safety, do you have any suggestions for us?" It was a weak interruption and he knew it, but it was better than a stranger knowing coveted information.
"There is not much now that we are at this stage. We have a clear supply of oxygen," he said pointing upwards at the dark sky punctuated by the red and blue flashes of sirens, "And the rescuers are here. Now all we can do is wait for them to approach and signal their help."
"How much time do you expect to pass before they begin working in our area?" he questioned.
"Depends on how good they are and how many people survived. From the size of the theatre," he paused estimating, "could be anywhere from three days to three weeks."
"Three WEEKS," Nadalia exclaimed before she could stop herself.
"That's just a top end estimate," he explained calmly.
"But that means it's POSSible?" He shifted uncomfortably.
"Well, yes."
"Great! Three weeks out of my summer vacation spent in a collapsed theater."'
"Typical American teenager. Only concerned about herself," Artemis loudly sighed.
"Artemis!" Mrs. Fowl scolded, appalled at the behavior of her son.
"Oh, no, Artemis, tell me how you really feel," Nadalia told him calmly, her anger at his premature judgment well buried. He was confused for a moment before her sarcasm registered. He was shocked he hadn't picked up on it immediately.
"How original," he snottily replied before turning his back. She glared for a moment at his turned figure before moving on.
"So, Angeline, where's the best place to get sushi around here? My family and I have a tradition of eating it once in every foreign country we visit."
"I'd say that isn't likely," Artemis interrupted before his mother could begin her tirade of recommended restaurants.
"Why not? Not a fan of Irish sushi?"
"No, it's more because where your seats were and how the architecture and structure of the theatre is built makes it highly likely anyone in the front area was either crushed or suffocated to death." Her eyes bulged and mouth dropped open. Mrs. Fowl was applaud at her son and was opening her mouth to lecture him. Butler was confused; even for Artemis that was cold and tactless. There was silence for half a second, which seemed much longer than it was for those experiencing it. Then Nadalia lunged across the open space and tried fruitlessly to strangle the boy.
Fruitlessly only because Butler immediately lifted her up, trapping her in his thick, muscular arms.
"You little bitch, Artemis! How dare you say that!" The adolescent male gave a small eye roll and then projected his voice so that Butler was sure to hear him over the ruckus Nadalia was making, yelling curses at Artemis and screaming for Butler to put her down, "Sedate her, Butler." There was a flicker of uncertainty in butler's eyes and he hesitated. Seeing this, the master added a heavy 'now,' to which the manservant quickly responded, sensing that his master was displeased with his behavior. She almost instantly went limp once he applied a steady pressure to the nerve cluster in the back of her neck.
Taking extra care, he softly put her down. "You see, she is an assassin. I can't believe you didn't notice, you should be ashamed," Artemis addressed his body guard.
"Honestly, Artemis? She's not an assassin. A professional wouldn't have tried to choke you. And you would be dead."
"Oh," was all the young boy replied, realizing his remark was a tad assumptive.
"You shouldn't have said that, Artemis," Butler reprimanded him, his voice a quiet rumble.
"I'm glad i did. It is important to know if someone you're sharing a man-made cave with is emotionally unstable or not. Or murderous, in this case." Butler sighed. While Artemis WAS a genius, when it came to emotions, and most specifically those of women, he was a tad...idiotic.
"What you failed to factor in, however, is that she no doubt had been thinking that once she was safe herself."
"Doubtful. I would be amazed if she successfully had a thought that intricate for an extended period of ti-" "You're missing the point, Artemis. She's obviously going to be worried about them. You throwing it in her face wasn't a good move." He actually took time to consider that.
"Fascinating. I do believe you have made a valid point, my friend," Artemis conceded. Inwardly, Domovio sighed. One day someone was going to come along who could take this kid down a few notches. When they did, he suspected it would not be pretty. "Mother," he started, about to apologize for his rude behavior stopped when he realized that his mother had withdrawn again. Most likely it was the violent commotion that had caused it. He could only hope desperately that his gaffe would not lead to her permanent distance. As soon as she regained consciousness, he promised himself, he would apologize and hopefully that would help his mother.
Finally she began to stir. "Nadalia," he began softly, her name calling her out of her remaining drowsiness. "What?" she barked, bitter and mad.
"I wanted to apologize for my tasteless comment. It was insensitive and rude. I assure you i will do no similar thing in the future. Do you forgive my idiocy?" Was this really happening? Artemis Fowl the II calling himself and idiot? she thought incredulous. Even though she hated his being and she had no forgiveness for him in her heart, she had to admit that his apology seemed sincere, though it easily could have been forced, and that he WOULD make a formidable opponent once outside the confines of the cave. And there was that massively built bodyguard.
She forced a smile. "You are forgiven."
