Chapter Two

Artemis Fowl sat in his study, brooding. This was not something he did often. He often found solace in the oak-paneled room, with floor to ceiling bookshelves, and five separate computer cubicles. His prized Apple Macs whirred quietly. It was a comforting sound, not unlike the sound of the ocean to most other people. The study was where Artemis usually plotted his dastardly deeds. In fact, Artemis hatched plans to kidnap Captain Holly Short of the LEPrecon unit in this room, and it was in this room that he later built the C Cube. However, Artemis was in no mood to plot. In his gargantuan mind, he was running a very short list of the possible reasons why his parents had made the decision to send him off to the United States, more specifically, Los Angeles. They made absolutely no sense, scoffed Artemis. Hollywood is the epitome of superficiality, and I do not believe that my parents support superficiality. Ah, he sighed. Artemis did know the answer he was seeking, but he really did not want to come to terms with it. Hollywood is renowned as a social town. It is said that if you can make contacts in Hollywood, you can swim with the sharks… Artemis smiled his vampire smile. Hollywood must brace itself, because Artemis Fowl II was a shark with the likes it had never before experienced.

Artemis smiled slowly as yet another idea came to him. He quickly released himself of his carefully held meditative position to research something at the computer. If I am being sent away from Ireland in order to stymie the continuation of my business practices, I must circumvent this. I will take advantage of the opportunities Los Angeles has to offer. And with that thought in mind, Artemis buried deeper in his research.

Butler was summoned to the main gallery by Angeline and Artemis Senior. It was three hours before Artemis and he were scheduled to arrive at the airport, where they would catch a flight to Los Angeles. Before they departed, however, the Fowl parents had some specific wishes they wished to impart to Butler.

"Ah, Butler," said Artemis Senior as the bodyguard entered the marble room. He was seated on an ebony sofa with cream-colored upholstery next to his wife. "There are some matters which need to be discussed," he continued, "You are probably wondering why we chose to send Artemis to Los Angeles. Well, where else could we send him? Anywhere else in Europe, anywhere else in the world, Artemis has contacts. I am sure of this, though I possess so empirical evidence. Europe is his home base. In order to change, he must be…cut off, relatively speaking. I believe Artemis never suspected we would send him to the US, let alone Los Angeles. It is probably a shock, a devastating shock and it was meant to be so. St. Bartleby was at the end of their wits with him. Perhaps Los Angeles will be more challenging, and Artemis will have to learn to adapt. But remind Artemis of this: this is not a punishment; he is not being banished. He will simply have to start anew, and thereby reform."

Angeline, silent all the while, now spoke, "And do take care of him Butler. He will need you help, I am sure."

Artemis Senior cleared his throat yet again, " Speaking of care Butler. Your duties remain the same, of course. You will continue to guard Artemis. However, this applies only to those making attempts on our son's life. If he gets into any skirmishes please let him handle them: he needs to learn how to take care of himself," with those last words Artemis Senior, the reformed business man, rubbed his face with his hands, dismissing Butler, and wondered if he was making an enormous mistake.

LAX Airport, Los Angeles Present Day

Butler and his young charge waited at the rental car parking lot in the shade. Both had been unusually quiet for the entirety of the flight. One was busy plotting to flee from Los Angeles at the desired time. Or at least establish more contacts. The other was inventing pretend situations in which Artemis proceeded to be beaten up without his interference.

A gleaming black Bently pulled up in front of the pair, shaking them from their daydreams, and the attendant hoped out. He opened loaded their bags into the trunk, and held the backseat door open for Artemis. Butler climbed into the front after pressing a generous tip into the beaming attendant's hand.

"Butler, when do you propose we remove ourselves from Los Angeles and make our way to Hong Kong. I have some contacts there with which I would like to meet."

Butler sighed. His charge would not like the next words he was about to utter. "I am sorry Artemis, but that cannot happen. Your parents gave me strict orders to keep you in Los Angeles, and those orders I will carry out faithfully. You will attend Farthing Hills, which of course you know is a prestigious boarding school up to par with St. Bartleby's. There you will share a room with an assigned roommate, and I will take the room across the hall. It has all been arranged. Artemis, it is now foolproof: you will now be forced to become a normal teenager." Both bodyguard and charge silently added, albeit a normal teenager with a frighteningly high IQ.

Farthing Hills was located in Beverly Hills, and was synonymous with outstanding academies and fabulously wealthy students with their own celebrity status. But this is not unusual, for it is located in Beverly Hills, an exclusive town in the direct vicinity of Los Angeles.

But it was not in Ireland, or even Europe. And this, to tell the truth, made Artemis slightly uncomfortable. He had never liked Americans, being a European snob of ancestral birth. The dealings with Jon Spiro had caused him to look at them with even further disdain. Artemis therefore was completely at a loss of what to expect from his new roommate. Artemis unlocked the door of his dormitory room, located in a stone building on the lush campus, and stepped inside.

There were two beds in the large room, both identical in their furnishings. They were made of dark wood, with comfortable looking mattresses and extremely downy navy blue duvet covers and pillows. There was a large plasma screened television, and DVD player and sound system residing below it in a glass cabinet. Two closets lay on either side of the television. An archway led into a step down study equipped with two great desks, a bookcase and easy chairs. The whole set up was vaguely resembled a hotel suite. Except that there was another boy laying down on one of the beds reading a surfing magazine.

The boy looked up. "Hullo mate, you must be the roommate. My name's Salim Penderfield. What's yours?"

Artemis took a moment to study the other boy. Salim looked to be sixteen, Artemis's own age, and of Middle Eastern descent, though he spoke with a British accent. He had extremely tan skin and dark brown hair that fell shaggily into his dark eyes, surfer-esque. He was of tall stature and his face looked bemused.

"My name is Artemis Fowl the Second. I'm Irish." Artemis stared at Salim with his intense navy eyes, which strangely matched the duvet covers.

"Oh, Irish are you? Yes, I could tell by your accent. Dublin's a great place. Though your hills are weird," Salim smiled, "I'm Egyptain. Well, my mum's Egyptain. My dad's British—he's an Egyptologist. Don't ask me how the hell I ended up in Los Angeles."

Though Artemis was by rule prejudice against most other teenagers, Salim's personality was infectious and Artemis could not help liking him.