Thank you for reviewing! Next chapter, we get a little more of what was going on with Artemis before last chapter. For now, some actual exposition :) Enjoy!
November 13th, 2006, Fowl Manor
Holly was already in the air when Artemis had stepped forward to disappear in the time stream. She reached out anyway, body in flight as her arm struggled to even touch a strain of the past Artemis had vanished into, but she didn't get to do more than graze the hot, glowing edge of the time tunnel before it disappeared.
She hit the ground with a crash.
There was a rush of warm energy, a wave so powerful it left her reeling and almost nauseous, the intangible strength real enough to turn her spinning over on the ground so fast her world was a blur until she slammed into the wall. Stars flickered in her vision but the roar of the temporal particles and Artemis's machine ceased, leaving her prone and frozen on the floor, silent and thoroughly stunned.
It was instinct that had her up on her feet when her vision was still blurry and her head was still pounding, turning around the wrecked lab in a shocked attempt to understand the impossible. No1 was still paralyzed on the floor, trembling violently, looking as if the powerful wave of- of whatever had sent him for a tumble too. Foaly had been blasted into a computer screen and was nursing several small cuts, but appeared to be fine, while Butler seemed to have been forced back a few steps but had managed to stand his ground.
And Artemis was still gone.
A heavy air of stunned silence hovered in the room. It was stifling and oppressive and stuffed any attempts at words or breath back into her throat; she couldn't do anything but stand and stare at the horrifying emptiness.
And then the frozen stillness was shattered.
"What just happened?!" Butler demanded, vehement and urgent, and when no one answered him the bodyguard moved forward into the circle of stunned fairies with the clear intent of lifting the shaking demon right off the ground and asking him for his answer. "No1! No1, what happened?! Where's Artemis?!"
The tiny imp just shuddered while they all stared. A few vestiges of power fell from his fingertips and he blinked, his eyes shimmering in blue. He tried to speak but starting twitching instead, breathing heavily. Holly took a step towards him before Butler shook him slightly, trying to jolt him out of it, and the demon managed to stutter out, "H-he took it. Took it. It's gone... he t-took it."
Foaly moved forward at that, the words enough to shake him out of his daze, and roughly elbowed the shell shocked bodyguard aside to grab the trembling imp by the shoulder. He, too, shook No1, his motions just as urgent and panicked as Butler's, and Holly moved forward as well just as the frantic questioning began. "Your magic! No1, did he take your magic?! No1!"
The imp blinked and nodded numbly, leaving them all staring at him in outright shock and encompassing horror. Holly's mouth opened and shut without purpose and she gasped like a suffocating fish, all rational thought fleeing at the notion of the impossible, leaving her with nothing but stunned and rampant emotion. Artemis took No1's magic?! But... how- why- I don't understand!
There was a sharp crackling noise from behind her, and Holly spun around at the sound of the machine activating again that caused them all to tear their eyes away from No1. The thing's outline had started to blur, shifting in and out of reality several time before the illusion flickered and vanished entirely- only to be replaced with an entirely more sinister looking device.
If the first machine had looked futuristic, then this one was a direct copy of the torture devices and otherworldly machines depicted in Mud Men alien comics. It was a dark sort of faded grey, and any previous devotions to aesthetics had disappeared entirely; there were jagged edges here and there, a few cracks, strange smudges- it looked both darkly impressive and cobbled together in the last minute. And that was just what was remaining of it; most of it had vanished entirely; instead of the old, complicated array of wires and orbs and silver, there was now just two pointed spikes with veins that glowed blue with energy inlaid on the surface. They were directed so No1 had been their target.
It was not hard to imagine what their purpose had been for.
Holly simply gaped at it. She hadn't thought it was possible for her to get any more stunned than she already had been, but apparently, she'd been wrong, because the continuing occurrence of the unexpected left her reeling yet again. They all stared at it uncertainly- except for No1, who was still trembling and muttering almost soundlessly under his breath, and Foaly, who hesitantly approached it. "Oh my gods," he breathed, stumbling forward to touch it nervously. "Holy Frond. It can't be. This… it's not supposed to exist. It can't."
"Foaly? Foaly, what are you talking about?" Butler demanded, but his voice was edging on a command, with a dark warning lurking underneath, an undercurrent of steel as he stepped forward to stand beside him. "Where's Artemis? What happened to him?! And what just happened to his machine?!"
Holly glanced to the centaur herself, wanting to hear someone else confirm her desperate hope that what she had seen hadn't been real. That it had just looked like Artemis had stolen magic, created a time tunnel, and ran off into the past- that he hadn't actually done it. But Foaly didn't even seem to have heard him, too engrossed by the sight in front of him, nor did he give her the words she so much wanted to hear- and so it fell to her to answer Butler's question.
She couldn't lie, not even to give voice to the private hopes that this wasn't real. Her only option was to tell him the truth.
"That… that was a time tunnel, Butler. Artemis… Arty went back in time."
Butler's mouth fell open in disbelief, and Holly just turned to stare at the spot where Artemis had vanished. She still couldn't believe it herself. She actually could not believe her own eyes.
Artemis... what have you done?
Butler finally managed to gasp, "What?" He turned shakily around to stare, as she was, at where Artemis had vanished while Foaly still examined the machine with trembling hands. None of them could grasp the situation or had any idea whatsoever what was going on.
A few nervous seconds passed in a pregnant silence until Foaly finally turned back to face the others, a shade paler and eyes wide with shock. The centaur opened and shut his mouth soundlessly for a few moments before at last managing to stammer, "H-Holly, call Trouble. Call him now. It's an… it's an emergency."
Oh, if ever there was a bigger statement of the obvious... Holly numbly nodded and put on her helmet with shaking hands. "Call Trouble," she told it, still breathing hard. "C-call Commander Kelp."
She was met with silence. Holly repeated the command once more before she blinked, and the message flashing constantly across her visor actually registered. Connection with Police Plaza lost. Make contact immediately. Situation has been reported to Op's Booth. Connection with Police Plaza lost…
Ah, wonderful. The situation getting worse; that's just what we need.
"Um, Foaly?" she asked nervously, pushing up her visor and looking at him. "I don't have a link to Police Plaza. Nothing in or out."
"What? That's impossible!" Foaly pulled out of his phone, then blinked and examined it closer in confusion. "I don't have service either. Butler? What about you?"
The manservant only two two seconds to confirm Foaly's suspicion and shake his head, putting his phone back in his pocket. "Nothing. What… what's going on? Artemis, he-"
"No time, Butler, no time. Oh, gods… this is bad, this is so bad..."
"Foaly!" Holly yelled, cutting off his frantic speech. "Foaly, what is going on?! How did Artemis… and why did that machine… just what the hell is happening here?!"
The centaur swiveled to stare at her- and his expression of wide eyes, almost slack jaw, and stunned features said his answer perfectly clearly without words being used. The vocalization of his thoughts only proceeded to turn the situation from serious to dire.
"I don't know."
Police Plaza, Haven
"Commander? We have a big problem."
Those were not words that any commander ever wanted to hear. And with his top technical consultant, captain, and newbie demon warlock above ground cavorting about with the most dangerous human on the planet, they could spell downright disaster.
Trouble slowly raised his eyes off the paperwork before him to look at the uncertain pixie standing in the doorway to his office. Cenk Norwidth, a man not prone to exaggeration but one who tended to turn to his supervisors for help rather than deal with a problem himself. This could either be absolutely nothing, or, very bad indeed.
"Yes?" he asked warily. "What's going on?"
Cenk shifted nervously and chewed on his lower lip, playing uncertainly with the sheet of paper in his hands. "It's the monitors for Koboi, Commander. And Fowl, actually… they're all going off like crazy. Ireland's a hot spot on our maps, and I know you said we should be paying particular attention to Fowl Manor today and it's the dead center of the chaos..."
Annnnd... yep. Very bad indeed.
Trouble was on his feet before Cenk could shift awkwardly one more time, near sprinting out the door and dragging the pixie behind him by the collar of his shirt. "Tell me everything!" he ordered without heed for who could overhear or the classified nature of the discussion. This was more important than bureaucracy. "What happened?! Monitors for Koboi- which ones?! Have we found her or no?"
"No- it's the ones we set up to measure temporal currents, sir, and they're lighting up all over Ireland. Working on getting a satellite picture now."
Trouble swore under his breath. When the younger Opal had slipped through his fingers only a few short months ago, Foaly had worked on setting up a system to try and track the megalomaniac's movements on the surface. He had an entire team dedicated to monitoring the elaborate alarm system and any activity from it was bad- no question about it. The temporal current monitors had been Foaly's idea, as the centaur had pointed out that she may try to return to her own time- and Trouble wasn't very pleased to hear he may have been right.
"And in Ireland? Have you made contact with Holly?"
Cenk shook his head and looked away. "No… we tried but couldn't reach her. No signal- no signal of anything in Dublin, in fact, and that includes Fowl Manor."
Trouble paled at the thought, and he actually froze for a split second, coming to a halt to stare at him before forcing himself to keep moving. What? That's impossible. "You don't just mean with the regular monitors- what about all the secret ones Foaly claims not to have? Nothing at all?"
"You got it. It's as if Dublin just vanished out of this dimension."
Trouble swore under his breath again. "We need satellite picture. Now."
Cenk nodded as the pair finally reached the door to Foaly's lab. "As I said, we're trying- but no satellite will be in range until the next five minutes. ...We're doing everything we can."
D'Arvit. I just knew this meeting with Fowl was a bad idea. Something always goes wrong when he's involved- and this is the epitome of wrong. Trouble shook his head angrily as he tossed open the door and led the way inside- then found himself dodging an elf who was scampering throughout the complete chaos within.
Foaly was far too paranoid to let anyone use his Op's Booth in his absence, which meant his lab would be deviated off experimenting and more towards mission-usage whenever the centaur was out of the office. And that meant whenever whenever a serious problem cropped up- like now- the room deteriorated into a disaster area.
There was a team of techs clustered around a set of computers and monitors in the back of the room, machines that displayed what appeared to Trouble to be just a bunch of flashing red numbers and erratically patterned lines, at least five fairies dashing around with printouts and files clutched in their hands, and above it all was an elf in way over his head, the diminutive little man actually standing up on a chair as he screamed orders, trying- and failing- to get someone to listen to him. Trouble stared agape at the disaster before he was almost bowled over again.
What the...
When someone accidentally nudged the screaming guy's chair and almost knocked him over, he decided it was time to take action.
Turning off the lights was a decidedly juvenile move, but if his employees were going to act like children, they might as well be treated like them. The descent of darkness brought on an immediate silence and cessation of movement, as everyone stopped in their tracks to turn to see who would be audacious enough to turn off the lights, and then, froze when they saw they were in no place to be chastising the one responsible.
Trouble nodded his approval, even as he turned around, searching for the one in charge here. "Crisis does not equal panic mode, everyone. You know that. Now, of all times, is not when you should be running around and screaming. Now- what's the situation?"
After a short moment in which the room's occupants all continued to just stand and stare, motion started up again, albeit at a slower, quieter- but no less urgent- pace. The elf who'd been standing on a chair before hopped down and hurried to his side, features drawn and pale with stress and anxiety. "Alex Markson, sir, Foaly's assistant. We're trying to find out what's going on- we still don't know. Waiting for satellite picture but until then, it's impossible to tell."
"Do we know what tripped the monitors? Can we tell?" Trouble asked as he was led forward, but Alex shook his head.
"No. We can deduce a little but their purpose was to alert us when something was up so we could go see for ourselves. All we know is that it was the monitors we had for any large spikes of magic and the temporal currents that went off first; then almost directly after everything began malfunctioning, or we lost connection altogether."
"Everything?" Trouble repeated in surprise. Technical doodahs aren't my thing, I'll be the first to admit, but even I think that has to be unlikely. "What are the chances of that?! ...Could someone be making them do this- infecting them with a virus or something?"
Alex shook his head. "Nope. Not a chance. Some of these monitors are run by different networks altogether; the chances of someone being able to put a virus like this on all of the systems simultaneously are astronomically low. Something else made us lose connection with them."
D'Arvit... why didn't I think Fowl getting involved again would be a horrible idea?!
Trouble looked over the flashing alarms and beeping red numbers with an increasing sense of dread- one that only escalated when another elf approached them to tell them that a satellite was finally in range. Alex ordered for it to be brought up onto the main monitor, and they both swiveled around to watch as the situation at Fowl manor was revealed to them.
The room went deadly silent.
Trouble paled.
Fowl Manor
"Still no signal! No anything, Foaly!"
"Keep going! We'll run into a network sometime!"
The very mismatched group continued their journey at breakneck speed, heading up the stairs of Fowl manor with their phones out and eyes on the screens, waiting for even a single bar of service to pop up so they could contact Police Plaza about the situation. Foaly led the pack, easily outstripping them all with his four legs instead of two, while Holly sprinted right on his tail, and Butler brought up the rear with still shell-shocked No1 draped over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"I'll explain now," Foaly panted as they hurried throughout the manor, "since we don't have time to waste. I recognize the machine that Artemis was using- Opal Koboi had specs for it that she never got around to building. She had designed it as a method of giving humans magic, presumably for her own personal use after she used surgery to turn human. I don't have any idea how Artemis got them, but those were almost exact replicas of what she described in her specs."
Holly frowned. She couldn't imagine it would be very hard for Artemis Fowl to track down old designs of Opal's- or even conceive of them himself without any influence from the malicious mastermind- but that hardly explained what had happened here."But, Foaly-"
"But it still doesn't make any sense!" Foaly continued, though, now, it sounded more as if he were talking to himself than his companions. He near galloped up the stairs, leaving the others struggling to even keep up, still talking. "Enough magic to create a time tunnel- that's more than elves can handle. Only demons can take that much! He never could've handled it- it's impossible! That Mud Boy- what was he thinking?!"
Exactly, Holly thought grimly, and together the four hurried out onto the first floor, away from the underground lab and towards the front door. Artemis... what were you thinking?
Finally in the home stretch, now, Foaly led the way up to the door of the mansion, muttering inaudibly to himself while No1 did the same, until he reached the entryway where he wrenched the door open.
He ran outside, then skidded to a stop so fast Holly and Butler both stumbled into him.
Holly barely managed to stop herself from crashing into Foaly by hanging onto the door frame, and her mouth was already open to swear at him before she caught sight of what had frozen Foaly in his tracks.
A shimmering, azure cloud hovered over the manor, casting the great expanse of pale, rolling fields in an eerie blue light. The surface was solid, opaque, glowing with the power of magic and veins of sparkling energy shifting over the force field like virulent, dangerous wires of electricity.
The blue extended out to the city of Dublin and beyond, continuing beyond what they could see.
They were in a massive time stop.
December 05, 1998, Fowl Manor
Artemis landed in a heap on the floor, gasping for breath and coughing up what felt like time particles as he trembled and wheezed past gritted teeth. The disorientation of every limb, every muscle, every nerve, every molecule disassembling and then coming back together again as if he were some kind of machine was powerful, and he was left numb and still with the shock of it. He felt like his leg was on fire and his vision was a blur of red and blue, and Artemis knew that this wasn't a side-affect of time travel, because he'd gone to the past before, and it didn't feel like this.
But physicalities were not important here- there was something far more dire at hand than that.
His mind felt different… empty… lonely.
The voice was gone.
I was right, then.
I'm not insane- they are real.
The expected conclusion only led to a sense of determination, and he let his head droop slightly in a firm nod, course of action already set and clear. This was no surprise, and now that the voice's identity had been confirmed, he was left with no doubt of what he had to do.
I'll make this right. For all of you, and me. I swear it.
Still gasping between clenched teeth, Artemis slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, blinking. He let his gaze roam hesitantly around the room and finally released a tense sigh when he found that he was, in fact, in his laboratory. He was in the right location- and, clearly, not that far off of the right time. Had they done it? Was he in the right time period?
Artemis pulled his phone out of his pocket and shook it slightly, watching as the display trembled, phone searching for networks that wouldn't exist for ten years yet (hopefully). This would be the true test of his programming- a phone that could work in any time period.
Finally receiving a signal from what Artemis guessed to be a military base, all his programs came to life- including the calendar. He eagerly tapped it to at last find the date he had been waiting for flashing right back at him.
December 05 1998
Artemis smiled grimly.
Perfect.
He just sat there for a moment, drinking in the knowledge that this was finally it, his plan was in action and it was all up to him, now, before he pocketed his phone and flexed still shaky fingers. There would be time enough for euphoric celebrations later. Now, there was work to be done.
He had to get to his study and change the records so that, when Butler looked back on them later, he would see no sign of a mysterious time traveler. Then, get out of here as fast as possible- his plan had to start in two days, and he wasn't even in the right country.
That was when Artemis tried to stand.
Hot white pain whiplashed up his leg and he promptly collapsed, barely catching himself before he hit the floor. He bit back a scream, sucking in a gasp and holding it until he was dizzy with pain and breathlessness, the harsh aching of his limb only escalating with each breath he took. He let out a strangled cry and forced himself to turn his head, shift so he could see the source of the pain even when moving merely a centimeter made it feel like someone had taken a saw to his leg.
And what he saw was so gruesome he nearly passed out.
Now, Artemis had seen a lot of truly grotesque things. Being mixed up in fights with trolls, goblins, and gorillas practically guaranteed that. But what he saw as his leg nearly made him give a horrified yell, and he almost fainted for the first time in his life.
His calf was no longer skin and bones. It was cloth and bones. Cloth. His black pants leg had actually melded into his skin below the knee. It was hard to see the distinction, but it was impossible to just not notice the point where his skin just stopped, and his calf was instead covered by skin tight black cloth- cloth that was rapidly becoming soaked through with blood.
He felt light-headed and physically ill. Artemis moaned in both pain and shock, and his bile rose.
That's... not... right.
In his stunned, agonized haze, Artemis remembered the warning he'd received when he'd first traveled back in time.
I hope you like what color you're wearing, because there's a good chance you'll be seeing it for a long time afterwards.
"Oh my god… oh, my god…" he gasped, and just kept staring, transfixed, at his deformed leg. "Oh… oh, my god. This isn't… oh, no… this isn't right. That's not right at all."
The pain increased dramatically and Artemis swayed, the dizziness once again taking hold and almost sending him straight into unconsciousness. No- stop, stop! Focus! He was on a very strict schedule here, and if he fell unconscious and anyone at all came and found him, things would end very, very badly. He had to stay awake.
"Focus, focus, focus, focus, focus," he panted, five times, for good luck, voice a frantic, panicked little mumble. The voice had told him No1's previous warning had been just a precaution, that there was no real danger- how had this happened?!
Well, maybe you shouldn't listen so much to the voices inside your head, the snide part of him snarked back, and he couldn't help but roll his eyes. Now was not the time to think like that. He was on a very tight schedule and didn't have time to think about how this had happened. Maybe the voice had just been wrong; time travel wasn't exactly tested and proven. Did it matter? No- all that mattered was that he take care of this properly- if there was even a proper way to fix something like this.
"Surgery," he muttered aloud, because speaking was helping him focus and keep calm, something he desperately needed right now. "I can just- just cut it off. It should be me underneath and not cloth. Right. My past self will have the tools I need right here in his lab. Anesthetic, gauze, and surgical knife. Five five five five five." He let out a low gasp again as he stood, this time carefully putting no weight on his bad leg. He recalled memories of almost ten years ago, struggling to remember just how he had had his lab organized through the blinding pain. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and searched in a panic, grabbing materials as he saw them, all the while running through the calculations in his pounding head.
"Five five five five five," he whispered again, his voice edging on a plaintive cry as he limped through his lab, searching for what he needed. This was the lab of an ten year old- one supervised by a father skeptical of the merits of his experiments and research, no less; it was far less cluttered and advanced than what he was used to, and almost easy to find what he was searching for. When he finally had all the supplies gathered in his hands, he made his way to a stainless steel table and, gritting his teeth, maneuvered himself so he was sitting up on it. It would make the mess easier to clean up, which was vital, since he didn't exactly have the time to hire a cleaning service.
Artemis injected his own leg with the anesthetic, still moaning and whimpering from the agony, and could barely force himself to wait into the medication began to take affect when he set about doing his own work. He held still through the anguish, the syringe in his hand gripped so tight his knuckles were white, and held his breath, hands actually shaking from the pain, as he waited for the drugs to take affect.
Come on... come on... come on...
Please! Please, come on, please!
...And, there it is.
Artemis slumped with relief when the pain was finally blanketed by a smooth cloud of numbness. He let his head drop in a brief moment of relaxation, tension unfurling, the syringe actually falling from his limp hand to the floor as a cocktail of relief and exhaustion assailed him like a physical blow.
So much work to do, and yet, so easily taken down by just the simple easing of pain.
No wonder you were hearing voices. You clearly needed SOMETHING to self-discipline you.
Well, the voice wasn't here now, and that meant that force was going to have to be himself. Firmly shaking himself out of it, Artemis raised the knife to his leg, tapped it against his skin five times for good luck- and then sliced into his flesh.
He may not have been able to feel anything, but watching himself carve out a piece of his own flesh was not at all comforting. He almost gagged as he slid the knife underneath where his pants had become skin. "Oh good lord," he muttered under his breath. "That's not… that's not right at all. Five five five five five. That's not right at all."
He didn't have enough time to do a perfect job, but when Artemis had finally cut off all the cloth that had managed to become melded to his skin on his trip through time- revealing red, raw flesh underneath- Artemis dropped the knife with shaking hands and grabbed the gauze. He didn't have too long before the anesthetic wore off and was quite sure, when it did, he would be in a world of hurt- and he couldn't afford to be here when that happened.
At long last, his left leg had been half obscured by a bloody bandage, and the painkillers were still holding strong. Artemis took a moment to observe his shoddy workmanship, then just shook his head at himself and struggled to stand. He was wasting time. He could work more on that later; now, he had to get the hell out of this house.
Artemis hurriedly returned all of the materials back to where he'd found them, then continued to eradicate all signs of his presence here- namely, the blood. He'd wasted too much time already, but he already had the feeling that, when he returned three days from now, he would not have any spare time to spend on cleaning duties then. This mission had already gone awry, and he'd only been here ten minutes.
A ten year old Artemis Fowl's lab did indeed have the materials to clean up blood- and he wasn't sure whether or not to be disturbed by that or not- and he himself had had plenty of experience in the matter- again, not sure if he should be disturbed or not- so he made quick work of the situation.
Finally, Artemis stood back to survey his work.
The lab had been returned to its ideal condition once again. There was not a drop of blood to be seen, not a single tool was misplaced, and the entire room looked as if it had never once seen an intruder- certainly not a time-traveling one hellbent on changing the past.
No- the only sign of anything out of place was the remaining time tunnel.
Artemis's eyes lingered on the glowing spiral of purple and blue, the sparkling particles and the glowing path into the future, and then he turned staunchly away to leave the lab. If he was right, no one would enter this place until these three days were up, and the tunnel had disappeared.
If I'm not, well... I'll have more to deal with in the future than tying up loose ends.
With one firm nod, Artemis stashed the anesthetic in his pocket for when he knew the pain would return, then finally turned and got to what should have been his first priority when he arrived- his mission.
It took Artemis much, much longer than he had previously theorized it would to erase his presence from the security tapes, steal a tuxedo from his father's closet, and escape the mansion with a sterile knife tucked away in his pocket. There were only servants to avoid- Butler, his younger self, and his parents being in London- but it remained imperative he not be seen. By the time he had stumbled far enough away from Fowl Manor to be considered safe, his illness had only grown worse, and his pain had only escalated. He was now limping heavily, his dark suit soaked in sweat, and he had to fight the urge to use the few sparks of magic remaining in him to heal his injury; it was crucial those remain for the success of his plan.
Finally, though, finally, he was past the beginning stages of transition into the past. Injured and ill he may be, but Artemis was still finally ready to begin a plan three months in the making.
Artemis left Fowl Manor determined, stepping out into the cold winter air with barely a shiver and taking a moment to gaze around the past. He tipped his head back to look at the overcast sky of the eight years ago, heavy clouds the color of ash surrounding the manor and surrounding fields, leaving the barren winter landscape cold and dark.
This was his world before fairies. And this was how he was going to make it- permanently.
Artemis smiled grimly.
"Goodbye, Holly, and all you other fairy conspirators. It'll be just like we never met."