CHAPTER 1

CLARITY

Room 16, J. Argon Institute, Haven City, the Lower Elements; Now

ARTEMIS Fowl sat quietly in his room at Dr. Argon's clinic, legs folded up in the lotus position as Butler had once taught him. His unconscious registered the locations and positions of the objects in his room - bed in the center against the wall, flanked by two nightstands, completed with a ridiculously ornate bookshelf filled with psychology textbooks and thriller novels - but he banished any and every thought from his head. His breathing was slow and even, and his mismatched eyes were behind closed lids. To the casual observer, Artemis Fowl was at peace with himself.

But anyone who knew the teenage genius would have been able to spot the slight signs of stress; his knuckles were slightly white, the corners of his mouth dipped just a shade, and a single bead of sweat dripped down from his brow.

Though many were those that knew of the great Artemis Fowl, few knew him personally. Nobody, however, would have been able to figure out what it was that disturbed him so greatly. In truth, neither did he; all Artemis knew was that today, instead of achieving the blissful tranquility usually associated with this type of meditation, he was vaguely aware of colors swirling in between his subconscious and conscious. In the past, such colors would have been unwelcome in these sessions, as they usually accompanied terrible or shameful events in his teenage life. Artemis remembered the gray despair when his mother was afflicted with what seemed like Spelltropy at the time. He remembered the deep, ice-blue horror when realizing that Butler - his loyal, faithful bodyguard - had taken a fatal bullet for him without hesitating. Most of all, however, he remembered the black regret, laced with the deep crimson shame that came with kidnapping Captain Holly Short - now his closest friend.

Suddenly, with these thoughts a low murmur in his subconscious, the shadeless colors grew restless, begging to be recognized. Artemis lost his internal composure, mentally scrabbling to get just a glimpse of these infuriating hues. These wisps of his own consciousness managed to stay just out of reach, tantalizing him and taunting him with his own knowledge - his own emotions.

Absurd, thought Artemis as he struggled to relax, all notions of meditation forgotten. My mind cannot withhold information from me. It is a product of chemical reactions in my brain, resulting in synaptic firings that form a metaphysical and chemical database for me to access. It should not be able to conceal memories or otherwise from me any more than my laptop can conceal files.

Artemis prepared to clear his mind again.

The brain, simply put, is a mass of interconnected neurons, he thought. Following a similar or somewhat similar train of thought to whatever I was thinking about before should trigger the related memory, allowing me to identify these...mental wisps.

Internally, Artemis cringed, knowing full well that in his recent state phrases related to the mind were not to be taken lightly. It had been five months since his descent into Stage Two of the Atlantis Complex, and though he was completely cured he still felt a slight whisper of apprehension every time something related to the number four came up.

Fortunately, he thought, allowing a smirk to arrange itself on his face, I no longer have to deal with that Orion character.

How wrong he turned out to be.

Incubation room, J. Argon Institute, Haven City, the Lower Elements; Now

Holly Short looked into the face of her archenemy. She tried to feel hatred - tried to feel anger, but just couldn't manage to sustain such thoughts. She knew that the pixie inside the incubator was a clone - a pathetic, dumb creature that never wished to brought into the world. Even so, the clinic's techies and employees stayed well away from it, as it was the spitting image of Opal Koboi. For this, none of the clinic workers felt comfortable around it, and the clone's room saw an almost negligible amount of activity, with only occasional visits from Holly or a techie.

"I feel terrible for you," whispered Holly, speaking quietly as if not to disturb the clone's sleep. "Your gene donor is Haven's Public Enemy Number One, but that doesn't make you guilty for her crimes." Holly smiled sadly. "You don't have any friends right now. I know it doesn't count for much, but I-I'll be your friend." She almost lost her composure when she thought about how lonely the substitute Opal had been, even if it couldn't technically feel anything.

No, thought Holly, standing up. Even if she couldn't technically feel anything. The first step in becoming her friend is realizing that she is still a pixie, cloned or not, and deserves the same love and respect as everyone else.

Holly wrinkled her nose in disgust. Everyone, that is, except Opal.

"I don't see why you even bother."

Holly whipped around, a little startled. She didn't even realize she had company. Leaning against the doorway was a gnome, the disdain clear in his eyes even though he tried to keep it from showing on his face. His arms were crossed in front of him, and his slightly curled lip indicated the start of a sneer. Holly recognized him from his arrest some years before the Fowl Manor Siege. In fact, she had arrested him herself. The gnome was smuggling fairies without visas to the surface, and Holly had captured him after a lengthy chase through Haven's back alleys and shady avenues. Eventually she just shot him with her handgun, burning her wrist in the process. It was before the era of the Neutrino 2000 and the old handguns were notorious for overheating and spraying half-molten batteries over the shooter's hands every thousand shots or so if it wasn't properly maintained.

But it wasn't the pains Holly took to arrest the gnome that made her remember his name; nor was it his change from a shady, backwater life to one in Haven's most recognizable psychiatrist's clinic. No, Holly remembered his name simply because it was strange - even by fairy standards.

"Pallix Rinaan," said Holly, voice completely deadpan. "Do you really find it necessary to torment the clone?"

Pallix failed in trying to keep the sneer off his face. His ways may have changed, but he still retained the arrogant, vain personality from his childhood. "Look here, my dear. That clone is a dumb creature. It can't see you. It can't hear you. It won't even realize you were there if you were standing on its head doing an Irish jig while juggling knives."

Holly was one of LEPrecon's most hotheaded elves, a fact that had gotten her in trouble more times than she could count. She tried to keep her temper in check while speaking with Pallix, but it wasn't easy. "She is still a living, breathing pixie. It wasn't her fault that her donor was Opal Koboi!"

Pallix's sneer had grown more pronounced as Holly spoke. "Believe it or not, I don't care that her donor was Koboi. It's still a dumb creature, and you're wasting your time."

Holly was now really ticked off. "No, Pal," knowing how much the gnome hated that nickname. "This clone - it - she can still feel things. I know it! I'll show you someday - I'll show you that she isn't the vegetable you think she is!"

Pallix was fuming. "Pal? Pal? You call me by that name? I told you - I am nobody's pal! Don't you dare ever -" He stopped mid-sentence, a delighted grin suddenly replacing his sneer. He almost even clapped his hands.

"Nopal!" he shouted, startling Holly once more. "That's it's name! It's got no pals!"

Holly opened and closed her mouth several times, trying to find words for the indignation she felt on Nopal's behalf. "That's - that's - that's just downright mean!" she managed to splutter. "Nopal has friends. I'm her friend." Holly immediately covered her mouth, realizing what she had just said.

Pallix's eyes glinted almost manically. "Her friend? You used her name. You agree she has none. You're pathetic, Holly Short, picking on a poor, dumb creature that can't even speak for itself." And with that Pallix gave her a vampire smile that could have given Artemis a run for his money, before stalking out the door.

Holly turned back to the clone, seething over the gnome's attitude. Unfortunately, Pallix had a point. Holly was Nopal's only friend. She rested a hand on the glass above the pixie's forehead, almost crooning to her.

It's not fair, Holly thought. You share nothing with that monster, apart from your physical appearances. You don't have the same resources - not the same love, the same memories. You're just a poor soul that-

Holly frowned. Something about that last thought triggered a rather...peculiar memory. She didn't know how to describe it. Not entirely pleasant per se, but not unpleasant either. Holly scratched behind her ears, trying to place the memory.

Then it hit her. She had repeated words she had heard before. "I have Artemis's memories but not his disposition." The words of Orion Fowl, Artemis's alter ego that surfaced in the boy genius's struggle with Atlantis. He had none of Artemis's flaws - he was guiltless, transparent, and a good shot - but he also lacked Artemis's intelligent mind and common sense. In the end, though, Orion was critical in the group's escape from Turnball Root; Artemis allowed himself to be shocked to call forth the alternate personality, defeating Turball's blood rune and evening the playing field.

Now Holly knew why she was so uneasy. Orion had all of Artemis's memories and experiences, but he was free from the guilt that plagued their shared mind. Orion was as naïve and forthcoming as Artemis was devious, so when he proclaimed his (or their…?) love for her, she had shut him out in order to concentrate at the task at hand. At the time, the task at hand was running for their lives, so it was quite understandable why she did not have time for such emotions.

Unfortunately, there were no such tasks at hand. Relocation of the Atlantis refugees was complete, and Holly had just completed the Ritual a week prior. She couldn't even go above ground to pick up Artemis's family, because Angeline was in Haven and Artemis Senior had taken the twins for a week-long beach trip. Her thoughts, therefore, inevitably turned towards Orion...and Artemis.

Holly hugged her knees towards her chest. Truth be told, she did indeed feel an affection towards the Mud Boy. His sarcastic, more-than-slightly narcissistic demeanor hid a spark of dry wit and humor, and she had watched him grow from a monster into a hero. With him she had weathered the Arctic, suffered the smells of a tannery, crushed a rebellion, broke into an unbreakable vault, yelled at him, whispered at him, shot at him, shot for him, traded insults, traded eyes, hated him, kissed him…

Holly had always dismissed the moment passioné in the time stream as a result of teenage hormones, combined with the bond that only formed through shared trauma. Now, however, she wasn't so sure. Artemis cared for people. He no longer lied guiltlessly, and he had put millions of dollars into THE PROJECT. He actually smiled now - not his signature vampire smile, but a proper smile, for heaven's sake!

Holly groaned, putting her feet back on the ground and her head in her hands. Listen to me. A captain in the Lower Elements Police, up for major twice, unable to sort out her own emotions. Especially emotions pertaining to a human. A human!

She did have to know something, though, before it drove her mad; what did Artemis really feel towards her?

Room 16, J. Argon Institute, Haven City, the Lower Elements; Now

There it was again.

It was more distinct this time. Artemis could almost sense the colors. They were rising from his subconscious, almost within a mental arm's reach. They swirled lazily and quickly, violently and peacefully. They were strange, and yet...they were familiar. Familiar...and pleasant. What were these colors? What emotion did they accompany? Never before had he experienced something so soothing that affected his ability to meditate.

Artemis smirked, deciding to come out of his meditative state. When did I become so sentimental? I remember a time when gold was power and visible emotion was deemed as weakness. My time with the fairies has changed me much. My morals have changed, and I have had adventures few others - fairy, human, or otherwise - can even dream about. Artemis smiled - not the vampire smile he was so known for, but a gentle, genuine smile. Of course, I now also have friends - people I can truly depend on. People who love me, and people whom I love. Butler, Juliet, Mulch, Foaly, Holly-

Suddenly, the colors were thrown into sharp contrast. With his last thought, Artemis had removed the barriers preventing him from seeing the hues that his subconscious so obviously held dear.

Though he knew everything was happening in his mind, Artemis felt as speechless as if he were looking down into a lush, green valley. The colors swirling around him were dazzling and exquisite, flowing without inhibition, as a bird in the sky. They glowed with a natural light, and whenever they flowed through him he felt a warmth that came from within. Somewhere, he imagined a fanfare, gloriously adding a soundtrack to his emotional adventure. Mentally he reached out and attempted to touch the colors as they flowed by, and in doing so his brain started to process what he was experiencing. Unlike the harsh colors that accompanied guilt, rage, and sorrow, these hues were soft and warm - organic, even. There were shades of brown, green, and red. Brown was streaked with green and green was streaked with brown. Both strips of color were intertwined with each other, and as Artemis tried to bring his consciousness closer, they swung out of his reach. Somewhere - though he knew not where - a sound of tinkling bells registered in his subconscious, as if his own projected images were laughing at him.

For some inexplicable reason, though, Artemis Fowl found this image of unexplained, natural beauty to be completely acceptable, as well as the fact that he was not as deep in the meditative state he was in earlier. Though he understood the hidden workings of the human brain and how experiences and memories affected it, he did not understand what was happening at the moment. However, in a manner so unlike himself, he felt at peace; he allowed this lack of understanding to slide, and decided to enjoy himself.

A deep red-brown rushed toward him, breaking on the open window of his subconscious that represented his face. In it, he was surprised to realize he could smell something - the soft aroma of grass and citrus reached him. It was pleasant and soothing, yet…

Artemis mentally shook his head. Something disturbed him about the smell. He couldn't quite place his finger on it, but the more he tried to focus on it the more it leapt out of reach.

He decided not to dwell on such things for now. During past meditation sessions he had reached a number of achievements; he had slowed his heart rate to below 40 beats per minute, he had processed and accepted his guilt and shame, and he had reached peace with himself and his decisions on many occasions. Never before, however, had he experienced anything like this, and he allowed himself to become encaptured by the flowing colors again.

Time flows erratically and smoothly inside one's head, and Artemis was unsure how much time had passed since the beginning of this sight. He prepared to truly exit his meditative state, dimly aware of a burning sensation in his thighs, when he saw something unexpected that shook him to the core. Among the greens, the reds, and the browns that made up the myriad of colors and shades, there was a small streak of ice blue, chasing a very light brown - in fact, it was almost beige. The blue felt so out of place - so unnatural and clashing with the other colors - yet it completed the images Artemis had experienced.

Of course, this simple streak of color was what had disturbed the human so much.

Operations Booth, Police Plaza, Haven City, the Lower Elements; Now

"Come in."

Holly entered Foaly's Ops Booth, giving the centaur a big hug and a carton of carrots before sitting down and wondering how she was going to get everything off her chest. She had had a lot of time to reflect on what she was feeling and how to sort everything out, but she didn't know what to do next.

"So why the long face?" Foaly snickered, knowing fully how annoying he could be and doing nothing to change or dispute that fact. "Obviously you didn't come by just to say hi."

Holly snorted and rolled her eyes at the centaur's terrible joke, but couldn't bring herself to do anything more. She had a lot on her mind and was unsure how to start. Then she sighed to herself. If she couldn't trust Foaly, who could she trust?

Foaly, for his part, was planning on using whatever his friend was about to say for a new website post, but noticed how down she looked. Her shoulders were slumped forward, she was biting her lip, and her eyes seemed slightly glazed. She looked...defeated.

"Holly?" he asked, tentatively stepping forward. "Are you alright?"

Holly looked up, wondering if she was seriously about to say what she had been thinking for the last three hours. Once again, she reasoned that Foaly would be a good consultant for the time being. Besides his bug-free, paranoia-fueled Ops Booth that he once could not crack himself, the centaur could recognize a legitimate plea of help and would have the sense not to post such sensitive information to his website - at least, not until the crisis had passed. He was annoying, he was intrusive, and he was very vain, but he cared deeply for his friends, and seeing one of his closest ones in such obvious distress was more than enough to plant a seed of worry in his mind.

"Foaly," Holly began after a long silence, "you remember Orion, right?"

Foaly winced. "Of course I do. How could I not, with his 'noble steed' this and 'princess' that? It was like talking to a medieval squire!"

But to his surprise, Holly simply waved her hand dismissively. "Yes, yes. I know he was annoying, and he was basically useless in Iceland. But that's not it." She sighed again and was contemplating whether to go on. To tell the truth, she was scared with what she was about to say. Oh, she knew Foaly would laugh - that he would be on the ground with his hands on his sides, legs kicking in a gallop while he gasped for breath. She also knew that despite that, Foaly certainly would not post this to his website. No, Holly Short was scared because of the implications that came with these thoughts - and she was uncertain whether they were good or bad.

"Holly- " Foaly began again.

Holly took the plunge. "I think I'm in love with Artemis."