Note to the unknown flamer: I trust you haven't even read the fic before you passed judgement. I don't think I'm a sick-minded sicko, because Arty and Holly never had sex (I suppose you called me a sick-minded sicko because you read in the summary that A/H had a son.) Let me give you some advice: never pass judgement before you know what you're judging. There's one thing you're right about: this wouldn't happen in the books. But let me remind you that this is a fanfiction. And fanfiction is about writing things the original author would never write.
El Shabang: as you'll see in this chapter, the eyeball gem was there to enable Holly and Trouble to play Poirot ;) Nope, Opal isn't working with her brother.
knonoka: Juliet is about the same height as Arty. And you'll be getting Butler in this chapter :)
C-chan1: I thought the same: I envy Patrick because he already knows how the HP series ends. You have already introduced Piece O'Crap to me. I believe you introduced him to me in June when I was still posting Fates ;)
The OddBird: I'm not in college, I finished college over half a year ago and I'm currently doing a two-year long university course to get a second diploma. At the college I really had lots of freetime, but here at the university I don't. I've never been busier and more tired :((
Marfbag: I had no idea that some Tatooine scenes were filmed at San Diego. I thought they were filmed at Tunesia. About hot water being expensive... -shrugs- no particular reason for that. Here in Hungary, for example, hot water is more expensive than cold because you need to use either gas or electricity to warm it, and both gas and electricity are expensive. I know that in the bowels of Earth water is always warm (Colfer writes so in book one, as far as I remember). So let's just say that Holly only told Arty that warm water was expensive to make sure that he wouldn't spend too much time in the bathroom (Holly's like me in this respect: mum and I always 'fight' over the bathroom, LOL).
BeatlesLover: even Patrick used to be a small child, and a small child could like tales. So he liked (and still likes) Harry Potter. (certainly it's only because I like HP. In all my fics I project some of my own personality/interests into the characters. For example in The Greatest Shame Dennis Creevey was a diehard Star Wars fan, and you'll see that there's a diehard SW fan in this fic too ;)
Cyberspace: yes, writing A/H was my intention. However I decided to write less of sapiness and look at their relationship from a more interesting perspective. Glad you like it :)
DarkFlower2113: sorry if I haven't answered your question, must have avoided my attention. I'm answering it now. No, there will not be rivalry between father and son, because the plot will not give them a chance to 'compete'. However, in this chapter you'll see what both of them think of the other.
Indigo Ziona: Arty can't complain about having to sleep in Patrick's bed. I could complain more - we've had one of our rooms repainted and every single piece of furniture got removed from that room and I had to sleep on the floor (on a mattress) for a whole week. Do you really 'fall asleep' in biochemistry? ;)
TrunkZy: I wasn't aiming to create a character cooler than Arty, because no one's cooler than him (perhaps only Holly;) Yup, Arty will be snooping in Patrick's things right in this chapter.
tania15: you'll get the A/H romance, and the 'bitching at each other' too. Loooots of it, so don't worry :D I love writing 'bitching at each other' scenes ;)
Mistri, Tonks' Admirer: when you'll be finished reading the books, you'll see why Arty's sarcastic. What's Acetaldehyde dehydrogenase? No idea, ask Indigo Ziona (Helen in the green flame torch group), she gave me such funny biochemistry expressions (she's a biochemist). When I was small we also had the toilet in the back garden in our weekend house. But I don't remember it, because we sold that one and bought another weekend house with toilet in the house when I was three. I only know it because my parents told me stories about it. Yup, Arty never had time/interest for girls. Yes, fairies read Mud Man books and watch Mud Man movies.
neutralgal: thanks for recommending the fic. By the way, do you know how this 'strongly recommend' function of ffnet works? When you check that box in the review, what happens? Will the fic appear on some list of recommended fics or what? I haven't seen such a list...
Holly Rox: there will be some romance-like-thingies in the bridge chapters, but not much. Real romance only comes in the more exciting chapters.
Keiko: I deliberately wrote that Arty's memory recall didn't entail emotions, because I wanted to make sure that he wouldn't be too friendly with Holly all of a sudden. He needs to be a bit cold to her for a while.
Epsilon2Delta: I don't think that the Holly/Root conversation was superfluous. I wanted to show how Julius convinced her to go to Arty - and I wanted to show that it wasn't Holly's idea and that she didn't like the idea of visiting Artemis at all. Also, I wanted to show how Holly realised why Patrick had been kidnapped (Julius was needed to help her realise it).
LittleGreenPerson: yup, Quartz is stupid. He isn't unintelligent, but still stupid :)
Also thanks to: BrownPyrde, Crescent Fresh, septempopuli, Milette Tails Prower, TinkerBell394587, Miss Piratess, thisal625, blue-flames, sophianwin, leafs-gurl999, luckyducky7too, WackedOutPet13, leonsalanna
Not mu(l)ch of an interlude
Holly awoke in a good mood. Trouble had found a clue; and if everything went all right, they'd have Patrick back soon. Every cloud had a silver lining.
Humming the horrible pizza song, she made her bed and headed for the bathroom. She decided that after a nice shower she'd shout at Mud Boy to wake up. At six a.m., human time. She couldn't help feeling a malicious grin spread across her face.
Spoiled Mr. Fowl would surely be scandalised by being woken up so early in the morning!
Still humming the pizza song (she had no idea why she couldn't stop humming it – she truly detested it), she entered the bathroom.
Feeling her jaw drop, she wished she'd kept out.
There he was, taking a shower. The rippling glass of the shower-cubicle slightly distorted his figure, not allowing her to catch a proper glimpse of 'details', but still… she felt she couldn't move. She was rooted to the spot.
Several thoughts crossed her mind: How come he's up so early? How has he become this gorgeous? Isn't a spoiled Fowl supposed to lie in till ten o' clock? He isn't supposed to look this good! Hasn't he noticed my presence? I hope he hasn't! No, he seems to be enjoying the warm water, his eyes closed… Hey, he's using too much of the warm water, although I very clearly told him not to!
Artemis started to lather himself; completely oblivious to one Holly Short staring at him wide-eyed.
Not many times had Holly felt that she couldn't move even if she wanted, but this definitely belonged to one of those few times. Foam covered him everywhere – well, almost everywhere; bubbles danced gracefully in the air… Unconsciously Holly licked her lips.
And then – bang.
Holly shuddered and realised where she was and what she was doing. This was Mud Boy here, for heaven's sake! And Mud Boy had just dropped the flask of shampoo.
Before he could even bend and pick it up, she was out of the bathroom.
In her own room, she dropped herself into an armchair, practically hyperventilating. Had Artemis noticed her? If yes, what could he be thinking of her now? That she was a voyeur? She seriously hoped he didn't think anything of the sort.
Minutes later there was a knock on the door. "Commander? Are you in there?"
"Y-yes. I am. What do you want?"
"May I come in?"
"Er…" Holly hastily wiped her beading forehead (why on earth am I sweating? – she wondered). "Yeah, do come in."
A second later she wished she hadn't said so.
There he was in the doorframe, wearing a teensy bit of towel wound around his waist, his hair still dripping wet. "I hope you don't mind me using one of your towels. I found this one in the upper drawer, I thought you weren't using it right now, so…"
Holly nodded. Then shook her head. However, no sound came out of her mouth.
"Are you all right? Something wrong with your jaw?"
She again shook her head and closed her mouth, cursing to herself. Finally she found her voice. "You could have put some clothes on."
"I wanted to… but I never dress before shaving. You know, it is highly uncomfortable when tiny pieces of hair fall on your shirt and tickle you all day," he replied casually.
"Ow. Artemis Fowl is ticklish." She smirked. "And, why don't you shave and dress, then?"
"Because I haven't brought my shaving kit. Your Commandership made it clear for me that we had to leave as soon as possible, and I sort of forgot to pack my Gillette Mach3… So I was wondering whether I might borrow yours?"
"Mine? My what?" She gave him a politely confused look.
"Your shaver, razor or whatever you use on your legs."
"My legs?" She gasped. "Excuse me, but I'm a fairy! And fairies don't need to shave their legs!"
"Really?" He raised his eyebrows, leaning on the doorframe.
Holly rolled her eyes. "Fifth drawer."
A shadow of a smile appeared on Artemis's face. "Thanks." He turned around to leave, then doubled back. "By the way, was I just imagining things, or were you inside the bathroom while I was taking a shower? I heard the door creak…"
Holly felt warmth creeping up her cheeks. Don't blush, don't blush, d'Arvit, don't blush!
"Er, not really. I barely opened the door when I heard the water running and I immediately knew you must be in there, so I closed the door right away without entering. Why," she said with an angelic-innocent expression, "what could have I seen that I would have found interesting?"
"That depends on what you consider interesting."
"Well, naked Mud Men don't fall into that category. And just so that you know: I've seen you naked before, Mud Boy, and didn't find you exactly… interesting."
Seeing the confusion on Artemis's face, her lips tucked into a grin. She got her revenge. Artemis Fowl couldn't make her blush unpunished!
"What are you talking about? How could you have seen me…?"
"Remember the Spiro Needle, Mister Fowl?" She stretched out in her armchair, enjoying the situation tremendously. "You were wearing my iris cam. And you forgot to remove it while you were taking a shower. To tell you the truth, there wasn't much to behold..."
"Charmingly honest as always, Commander." Artemis said without a trace of annoyance. "I was indeed a scrawny little boy. Small, in every respect. But, as you perceived yesterday, I've grown." With that he turned around and left.
Yeah, you've grown. In every respect, she thought, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples. Mud Boy was giving her a headache early in the morning.
Mulch was sitting at the very back of a dirty little restaurant, wondering what he'd pay for his sandwich with. He'd escaped from prison only three days before and he hadn't yet eaten anything but dirt and that one single sandwich. He was weighing his chances of vanishing from the bar without settling the bill, but the waiter – a rather burly elf – kept a suspicious eye on him. He presented the elf with a wide smile until the poor fellow felt forced to look away. Mulch had that effect on people.
Now what to do… what could he offer the waiter as a payment? Go and wash the dishes? A dwarf? That's unheard of!
Although he was sure he didn't have anything of any value with him, Mulch checked his pockets. A dirty handkerchief… one of his teeth that a goblin had knocked out at Howler's Peak… and a coin, hanging from a thin string.
A coin!
Mulch's eyes widened with glee, but only for a second. No use, the coin was punctured. He could as well have thrown it away; it was completely worthless. He didn't even understand why he'd kept it. He must have had it in his pocket for several years without giving it a proper glance.
He was just about to slip it back into his pocket when something caught his eyes. That coin wasn't merely punctured – it was somehow… weird. As though it weren't even a real coin. Apparently someone had tried to disguise this tiny object as a coin.
Mulch held it close to his eyes. After a thorough examination the object seemed slightly too flat for a coin – it rather looked like some sort of a disk.
A disk, painted to look like a fairy coin. An artistic masterpiece - whoever made it, must have had a great talent for forgery.
"Excuse me," Mulch called the waiter.
"Would you like to settle your bill, sir?"
"No, not yet." Mulch shook his head. "I was wondering if I could use your computer for a couple of minutes."
"Obviously, we are an Internet Café after all," replied the elf. "I trust you can pay for the computer-use as well?"
An Internet Café, of cooourse, Mulch thought, looking at the single, shabby computer. Aloud he only said: "Naturally I can pay for it."
He sat down in front of the computer and inserted the tiny disk, hoping against hope that it would play despite the gold leaf layer, and that the mysterious disk wasn't virus-infected. Not being able to pay for a sandwich was one thing, but ruining the operating system was another. No doubt that this burly elf would beat him into pulp if he destroyed their only computer.
Much to his delight, the disk wasn't infected. However, it took the computer quite a while to open the files on it, because it needed a lot of converting and decoding – Mud Men technology, obviously, and a rather old one at that.
Finally the file opened. Originally it must have been written in some Mud Man language, but the computer had converted it to
Gnommish. The title said: Artemis Fowl's diary, disk 2.
"Artemis Fowl," Mulch whispered. "Artemis…" His mind was suddenly assaulted by memories. Memories that Foaly had fine-tune wiped after that semen-stealing incident. The centaur had been downright gracious, robbing the dwarf of only certain memories – all memories concerning Artemis Fowl.
Mulch couldn't help but smirk. Perhaps that centaur wasn't even that clever – he'd obviously forgotten to take this coin from him, although both he and Root had seen the Arty kid give him the medallion. "Morons," he muttered, rubbing his hands together. Now he clearly remembered the message young Fowl had slipped into his palm when they'd shaken hands thirteen years earlier.
Bring the medallion to me. Together we will be unstoppable.
Well, Mulch decided, it was time for him to become unstoppable. And he couldn't have thought of a better partner in crime than Artemis Fowl II.
Butler was getting worried. He had just returned from a two-day visit at his aunt's, only to find Fowl Manor completely empty. He had walked along all the corridors, peeked into all the rooms, but found no one. Artemis had disappeared.
Butler had found a piece of half-eaten toast on his young master's desk and an untouched one lying on a plate. There were some flecks of marmalade on the table and a crumpled handkerchief also smudged with marmalade. It suggested that Artemis had had a visitor and they had wanted to eat breakfast (or dinner) together. What had happened that stopped them from finishing their toast was something Butler couldn't even imagine.
Whatever happened, he tried to calm himself by reminding himself that Juliet had disappeared too, and it very likely meant that she was with Artemis, protecting him. The boy – correction: young man (Butler still considered his one-time Principal a 'boy') – couldn't be in danger with Juliet as his bodyguard. Could he?
Well, one way to find out.
Butler entered the study that was, as ever, full of computers. All he had to do was replay the recordings of the security cameras and he'd have the answer to his questions. Hopefully.
He flopped down into a chair and was just about to replay the events recorded by the camera hidden in Artemis's workroom when a small figure appeared on one of the screens. A small, but slightly familiar figure. It first pushed the doorbell then started making rude gestures into the front door camera.
"What the…?" muttered Butler. This small bloke was really, really familiar to him… where had he seen him?
Sig Sauer in hand, Domovoi headed for the front door. The visitor seemed tiny enough not to mean any harm, but a onetime bodyguard couldn't take chances with anyone.
"At last!" groaned the small bloke when Butler opened the front door. "I thought I'd have to break in again if no one answered the door. Good to see you, Big Man."
"Mulch." Butler's eyes narrowed as he sized up the dwarf. Mulch could almost see the cogwheels whirring inside the manservant's head, putting memories into their rightful places. "You are Mulch Diggums."
"I know who I am." The dwarf rolled his eyes. "You look good, Big Man. Quite youthful… I could say your face looks as smooth as a dwarf's bottom…"
For some reason Butler's hands clenched into fists, but even if he was mad, he managed to hide it well. "My face might look good, but what happened to yours?"
"Got beaten up a bit." Mulch waved, walking past Butler into the house. "Had a small problem convincing a barman that I'd return to them and settle the bill later… that big oaf just wouldn't trust me!"
"Wonder why," grunted the manservant. "So, what brings you here, Diggums? And what is this smell?"
"Sunscreen. Had to steal some from a shop. What brings me here? Well, I've got a little deal to settle with the Mud Whelp."
"You mean Artemis?"
"Who else?"
"A bit more respect, fairy dwarf. Artemis Fowl the Second is an honourable gentleman, and winner of three Nobel Prizes."
"Honourable?" Mulch stopped in his tracks. "Then I might have come here in vain."
"What do you mean, Diggums? Not some dirty business again?"
"Dirty? Nooooo." The dwarf gave Butler a huge smile, displaying all his slab-like teeth. "I'm merely returning to Artemis something that is rightfully his."
"The coin, I suppose," said Butler, remembering The Plan – Artemis had done everything possible to regain his memories of the People after the mind-wipe; and giving Diggums the 'coin' was part of The Plan.
"The disk, you mean," Mulch corrected him. "I know it's a disk, and it is supposed to trigger Artemis's memories of the People."
Domovoi nodded. "You can give it to me, I'll hand it over to him." If he returns, he added in thought.
"No-no." Mulch shook his head. "This is something I've got to give him in person. He wanted me to deliver it in person."
"Then you'll have to come back later, little fellow, because Artemis isn't here."
"Where is he then?"
For a minute Butler seemed to weigh the pros and cons of telling Mulch the truth, but finally he decided that it wouldn't do any harm to admit that not even he knew where young Fowl was. Who knows, Diggums might even help find Artemis, especially if he wanted to give Artemis something so badly.
"I don't know," he said.
"Excuse me?" The dwarf blinked.
"I said it quite clearly, didn't I? I don't know where Artemis is. I was just about to find out what happened here yesterday when you arrived. You may accompany me to the study."
Shrugging, Mulch followed the manservant.
"Why, isn't that the charming Commander Short?" The dwarf pointed at the screen. It showed a small figure approaching Artemis's worktable.
"Commander? Isn't she a captain?"
"Used to be, yeah, but got promoted after old Julius retired," explained Mulch. "But ssshhh!" He pressed his index finger to his mouth. Butler nodded. He felt they needed to hear every single word of Artemis and Holly Short's conversation to get a clear picture of what had taken place here the day before.
Ten minutes later Butler caught himself staring at the screen, completely dumbfounded. "So Artemis's got his memories back. And he has a son… by a fairy! And you," he turned to the dwarf with an accusing expression, "you helped the fairies with their dirty little scheme!"
"Hey, hey, I was forced, okay?" Mulch held up a placating hand. "Julius offered me a hundred years off my punishment! Then again… he and that stupid centaur mind-wiped me and I completely forgot about those hundred years… I'll get back at them for that, I swear I will! Making me do the dirty work and then making me forget about my rightful reward!"
"I doubt that a dwarf on the run could get revenge on Julius Root and the LEP's genius," remarked Butler coldly. "However, Artemis might be willing to help you out… he too has been used by those two. And Artemis isn't the type of person who lets himself be used by anyone and lets the person go unpunished."
"What are you hinting at?" Mulch arched a bushy eyebrow at the manservant.
"Find Artemis and Juliet and help them if they need it."
The dwarf folded his arms, looking downright smug. "Oh, so the Big Man finally admits that without good old Mulch Artemis Fowl is bound to fail."
"I'm not saying he's bound to fail, Diggums, I'm just-"
"…worried about the whelp," Mulch finished the sentence.
Butler nodded. "I wish I could go with you, but there's no way I could get underground unnoticed."
"Not to mention that the old ticker isn't working as it should," added the dwarf knowingly. "I'll see what I can do, Big Man.
Do you have any messages for Stinker if I see her?"
"Stinker?"
'Stinker', that is to say, Juliet Butler, had insisted on spending the day with Artemis in Holly's flat, so Julius Root took it on himself to drive the camouflaged Mud Woman to the Commander's quarters.
Upon arriving at their destination, Juliet immediately checked the whole flat, assessing the security measures.
"Keep your hair on, Juliet, your precious Principal is perfectly safe here," said Holly, dropping a bag full of food on the table. "I hope these will be to Mister Fowl's taste. If not, then sorry, but I can't get anything better. These were the only things in the supermarket that vaguely resembled Mud Man food."
Juliet picked up a suspicious-looking package. There was some text written on it, but she couldn't decipher Gnommish.
"What's this? And what does the text say?"
"This is cheese, made of centaur-milk. Damn expensive, so Artemis had better like it," grunted Holly.
"Where is he, by the way?" enquired Juliet.
"In Patrick's lab, getting acquainted with the equipment, I trust." The young Commander shrugged. "It might take him a bit of time, given that fairy technology is way more advanced than human, even in the biochemistry area."
"No need to boast, Commander." Artemis stuck his head out of Patrick's room. "The fairy lab isn't much more complicated than ours, I've already figured it out. No problem at all."
"Certainly. Why would Artemis Fowl have a problem with anything?" replied Holly heavily.
"Why do I have the feeling that you're trying to be sarcastic?" The young man raised a cocky eyebrow at her.
"Absolutely no idea, Mister Fowl." Holly forced a smile. "I've got to go now. Wonder whether Foaly has identified the culprit with the help of that eyeball gem…"
It turned out that Foaly had. Actually, when Holly questioned him, he gave the Commander a hurt look. How could anyone assume that he hadn't managed to identify the culprit?
"Apparently our little friend is a gnome by the name of Furunculus Fungi," he explained. "His address is 77 Algae Avenue. At least that's his latest address. The bloke seems to be changing his addresses weekly. He isn't registered with any employer, seems to be some freelancer to me."
"A bounty hunter?"
The centaur nodded. "Something of the sort."
"So he must have been hired by someone," Holly concluded.
"Exactly. This means that the person we are looking for isn't Fungi himself…"
"…but his employer," the Commander finished the sentence.
"Bingo."
"And can you find out who his employer is?"
"'fraid not, Commander," the centaur admitted. "Bounty hunters have a different employer for almost every job. It would be rather hard to find out who his latest employer was… These 'employers' never care to register their 'employees'."
"Wonder why," Holly sighed. The case wasn't looking good. "It seems our only chance is to round up this Fungi person…"
"Yeah, that seems to be the only option, Holls."
"Don't call me Holls!" she snapped irritably. She had never been a grouchy person, but the current situation was really taking its toll on her. Whenever a tiny ray of hope appeared on the horizon, it vanished as quickly as it had appeared. She had been so happy about the eyeball gem Trouble had found, and now it seemed to be almost useless. Not to mention that having Artemis Fowl as her 'guest' had a worse effect on her than she'd expected. She was getting frustrated – both by the helplessness and by his presence. She tried to suppress her frustration, but suppressing it only made her irritable.
"Oooooh, not you too!" Foaly groaned.
"Not me too what?" Holly knitted her eyebrows.
"Start this 'don't call me this and that'," replied Foaly. "Julius drove me mad with his constant 'don't call me Julius' rubbish."
"You mean you drove him mad by calling him Julius all the time," Holly corrected him.
Foaly shrugged. "You're going to find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our point of view, Holls. Sorry, Commander."
She shook her head in disbelief. "Mud Men movies have got on your nerves, Foaly. Well," she turned to the Kelp brothers standing silently in the background, "you've got the address. Try to round up this Fungi person."
"Do. Or do not. There is no try," Foaly added dramatically.
Next day
The gnome was sweating profusely. No wonder, since a Neutrino 2005 was pointed at his head. At the other end of the blaster stood Trouble Kelp with an expression as menacing as he could muster. Next to him stood Grub Kelp, trying to look just as menacing as his brother – but failing miserably.
However, Trouble and his Neutrino were enough to make the gnome break out in a sweat. His tiny eyes were nervously shifting across the room, eager to find a way to escape, but there was none. The door had been locked by that LEP chick, he'd clearly seen it.
Now that certain 'LEP chick' stepped to him, a grim look on her otherwise pretty face. "Some say you are a professional, Fungi," she said with a derisive edge in her voice. "But you must have lost your touch… first losing your precious eyeball gem, then living under one address for more than a week… no wonder the Kelps managed to catch you."
"Well, it wasn't that easy, Holly… Commander," commented Trouble. "The bloke put up resistance. He even shot me, look."
He pointed at his left ear whose tip was bandaged.
"Poor Trouble." Holly smiled. "You did a wonderful job rounding him up."
The older Kelp brother beamed at her. For a second Holly half-wished Artemis were here. Why? She couldn't have properly explained it to herself. Perhaps because Trouble had just given her another enamoured look? She quickly reminded herself that it wasn't proper to play with anyone's feelings; then it occurred to her that she didn't even know why she wished for Mud Boy to be here and see Trouble pining for her. Three days earlier Artemis had ever so nonchalantly remarked that she'd been trying to make him jealous. The idea still scandalised her. Jealous? Why would she want him to be jealous? This whole kidnapping must have gone to her nerves, she decided, and forced herself to focus on the trouble at hand. She hid a smile. That was a line with a double meaning. Trouble at hand.
Snap out of it! her mind shouted at her. You're a commander, for heaven's sake! And your son's life is at stake! This is no time for thinking of worthless Mud Boys and equivocal sentences!
Holly straightened her back and turned to their prisoner. "Mr Fungi, we are going to have a little chat now."
In the meantime the 'worthless Mud Boy' was deeply immersed in preparing for a highly complicated biochemistry project. It was not only complicated but very important as well. As Holly had put it: in case Patrick's kidnapper was about to use the boy's invention to evil ends, they had to be prepared with an anti-serum.
Artemis had already established that he was facing the greatest challenge of his life. Inventing a substance that slowed down the aging of human cells was one thing, but creating something that should reverse the effect of a possible chemical turning fairies into human-replicas was a completely different matter. For one thing, Artemis had come underground completely oblivious to the way the fairy organisms worked. He had been familiar with the fact that fairies occasionally needed to do the Ritual in order to replenish their magic, that the People on average had greater problems coping with cold than humans, and that dwarves could suck moisture through their pores (not to mention their unusual intestinal activities), but that was all he'd known. So first, he needed to get a clear picture of fairy anatomy. By now he had waded through all of his son's biology books and had a much clearer idea of how the elfin, dwarf, gnome and even goblin organisms functioned.
It had taken him two whole days to read through all the biology books, and now it was time for Artemis to start reading Patrick's notes on the progress of his project. Holly had told him that her son had kept the notes on disks, to make sure that no one could just hack into his computer and retrieve the data for personal use. For some reason Artemis found this amusing. The boy seemed to have the same way of thinking he had had as a teenager. Actually Artemis still kept his most important files on disks, naturally encrypted. Thus he wasn't in the least surprised when he inserted one of Patrick's disks at random into the A: drive (or its fairy equivalent – Artemis wasn't sure what fairies called the various drives) and upon opening a file, he was encountered with tons of unfamiliar symbols cascading down the screen like drops of a waterfall. The kid must have seen Matrix, Artemis thought.
Being the most ingenious code-breaker, the only human ever to break Gnommish and to invent a completely new language for the C cube, he decided to give it a try and interpret the symbols. Holly had never mentioned to him whether Patrick's notes on the Project had been encrypted, so perhaps they weren't – but that must have meant that this disk wasn't the one he'd been looking for.
After ten minutes of working on the code, Artemis had a feeling that he must have been trying to break into something more personal than the Council's famous project. Then again, none of Patrick's disks had been labelled in any way, so the only way he could find out which disk to read, was to open all the files on all the disks.
After half an hour of futility, trying to break the code, Artemis started to believe that either Foaly's paranoia had rubbed off on Patrick or he had inherited Artemis's natural precaution.
After almost three hours of arduous work the code finally gave. At once the young man got so flooded with different emotions that he didn't even note what the headline on the screen said. First, he felt slightly nauseated (failure always made him sick) – it shouldn't have taken him three hours to break a bloody code set up by a twelve-year-old! Not even if that twelve-year-old was some sort of Fowl-clone! Secondly he felt pride. He was proud of his son for creating an almost unbreakable code, and he was proud of himself too, for breaking it. He leant back into the swivel chair, deep in thought. He had never been the emotional type, and had someone accused him of ever going mushy, he would have immediately advised the person to go visit his psychiatrist; however, in these past three days more feelings had been awoken in him than in the past twelve years put together. First he had gained his fairy-related memories back, which was exhilarating and slightly frightening at the same time. Then he'd learned from Holly that he had unknowingly 'fathered' a child as clever, if not more clever than he was (more clever? – he quickly banished the thought). Holly had told him that this son of his was in danger, and he had tried to use his poker face, but after watching that short video recording on the boy, he could no longer properly hide his feelings behind a mask of impassivity. The most frightening of all was that he couldn't even have defined the feelings that the knowledge of being a father had induced. All he knew was that they were wholly new and unfamiliar. It wasn't love, for Artemis had never loved anyone but his parents and Butler; still, it was something. And something rather complex at that. Not only pride, not only anxiety, not only jealousy… but a mixture of all.
Certainly he had been playing with the thought of having children before, and he had expected that he'd love them, worry for them and be proud of their achievements, but it had never occurred to him that one day he might be jealous of them.
From an early age Artemis had regarded it as natural that he was the wittiest creature in the whole of Europe and he was easily one of the three wittiest in the world, but it never even came to his mind that one day an heir of his might outdo him. It was a highly disconcerting feeling.
Deep down he knew that he should be proud and ONLY proud of Patrick with no jealousy poisoning his heart; but knowing what you should feel and actually being able to feel it, are two different things. Why should he take unconditional pride in the boy? Who was the boy, after all? Someone he had never wanted, never planned and never even seen. Someone he'd never held in his arms or told stories to. Someone who had never called him father. Why have pangs of remorse, then?
He directed his eyes back to the screen and was slightly surprised to see that he was viewing some sort of a diary. For a second a little voice inside his head reminded him that reading other people's diaries wasn't exactly a nice thing to do, but he quickly quieted that little voice. After all, what else could help him get to know and understand his son better than the boy's personal journal?
He looked around, as though fearing that someone might catch him in the act. Then he shook his head in disbelief. No one was likely to catch him reading Patrick's diary, for Holly was at Police Plaza and Juliet was in the kitchen, preparing lunch. The younger Butler had been transported to Holly's flat every morning by Root and the onetime commander came to pick her up every night around ten o'clock. Juliet hadn't yet given up on convincing Holly to let her stay here for the nights as well, but Holly – no matter how fond of Juliet she was – kept turning her down, saying that one Mud Person was enough in the household, she couldn't deal with two. Juliet looked slightly hurt whenever the Commander refused to let her stay, but Artemis always reminded her that as long as no one in Haven knew about their presence, no one was likely to try and attack him.
Artemis focused his attention on the screen again. The diary started at 2008. Remarkable, given that Patrick had only been four years old back then. Well, Artemis reminded himself, he had been able to read and write at four too, so why shouldn't his son be capable of the same thing at the same age? However, young Fowl had to admit that it hadn't occurred to him at the age of four to keep a diary. He had only started one after his father had disappeared and he began to plan the abduction of a fairy.
Patrick's first journal entries seemed quite childish, telling how much he despised being in kindergarten and having to play hide-and-seek while he could as well have spent his time at home, taking a hard drive apart and putting it back together.
As Artemis scrolled down, the entries grew more and more serious, reporting mostly about Patrick's years at school (Holy Frond, who will rid me of horrible teachers like Miss Math? She expects me to add and subtract when I'm already familiar with matrixes and logarithm! I hate being an unappreciated genius!). This particular line made Artemis grin. He was delighted to note that he wasn't feeling pangs of remorse over reading the boy's diary. After all, Patrick hadn't written anything really personal so far. His thoughts could have been Artemis's thoughts at the same age; they were so similar. There were moments when Artemis almost forgot that he was reading another person's journal, not his own teenage one. He wondered what Doctor Po would have 'diagnosed', had he had a chance to meet Patrick. Surely his diagnosis would have been the same: "You don't respect anyone! You don't consider anyone as your equal!"
Scrolling further down, Artemis soon reached the latest entries. There was some mention of the Project Patrick had been given by the Council, but the boy hadn't elaborated on it – clearly because his findings had been stored on another disk.
25th March, 2016 – said the final entry. It was probably the longest one so far, and the first one that actually displayed more than self-consciousness.
Recently I've become suspicious that I've been lied to. I've been lied to – about everything. My conception, my parents, my whole existence. And what does a genius do when in doubt? Research, obviously. Now I half wish I hadn't delved into the matter of my origin, for what I found out is beyond anything I could ever imagine – in the wrong sense of the word.
My real parents aren't Jerry Frost and Sally Short Frost as my mother had always told me. No, actually my real mother is Holly Short, whom I've always believed to be my foster mother. She had claimed to have taken on raising me after my so-called parents, the Frosts (her second-cousin and her second-cousin's husband) had died in a magma flare. Rubbish. My mother is indeed my mother, but she's been lying to me all along. Why? That's easy. Because she didn't want me to ask about my biological father. Artemis Fowl. A Mud Man. A bloody Mud Man!
In front of the screen, Artemis felt beads of sweat form on his forehead. He had never had a vivid imagination, but this time he could almost see the boy's disgusted face as he spat the word 'Mud Man'. A shiver ran down his spine.
Not that I have anything again Mud Men – the journal continued. I have never met any and never cared about them. However, the others in the school have always referred to Mud Men as though they were something horrible, as though Mud People had been carrying some infectious disease… I don't know what to think. Up till now I didn't think anything of Mud People. Why should I have? Their world and our world are as different as chalk and cheese. At least that's how I've been viewing this matter so far. But now I feel as though the world had collapsed around me. Not only do I have to accept the fact that I've been BRED for reasons so far unknown to me; but I also have to accept the truth that they bred me using sperm from a human. A human - a boy almost as young as myself. My so-called father was barely fourteen when he'd unknowingly contributed to my conception. I don't know whether I should feel sorry for him, or sorry for myself. I think we both deserve sympathy. We both have been lied to and used.
Foaly's secret files that I managed to hack into, say that this Artemis Fowl (isn't Artemis a girl's name, by the way?) used to be a criminal. He kidnapped my mother and rid the fairies of a huge amount of gold. For some reason I don't feel sorry for the fairies.
This is too bad… I'm already thinking of the People as 'the fairies', as though I wasn't one of them. Am I accepting the truth that I only partly belong to them? I wish I knew. No matter how much I know about psychology, I don't understand my own feelings. One thing is sure: I'd rather NOT consider myself part of the Mud Men folk. Not even if I have some Mud Man blood flowing in my veins. I'm not a pureblood fairy, that's true, but I would never call myself one of them.
Artemis felt as though some invisible fist had compressed his gullet, trying to stifle him. He gulped to swallow the imaginary lump that had formed in his throat.
So that was what his son thought of him. A bloody Mud Man. A Mud Man who deserves some sympathy for having been used, but a bloody Mud Man, nevertheless.
Closing his eyes, he rubbed his temples. That little voice inside his head said with a derisive edge: see, you shouldn't have peeked into his personal journal! Artemis could almost see a fairy-like form wagging its finger at him in a disapproving way. The form had a face slightly resembling Julius Root's.
Artemis groaned. He was beginning to have a vivid imagination. That was a bad sign. Geniuses were supposed to be pragmatic with useful ideas, but not driven by their boundless imagination. The latter was for dreamers and lunatics, not geniuses.
Then again, what would he have felt, had he one day realised that his father wasn't who he had always believed him to be? It crossed his mind that if he'd found out his father was an alien from Alpha Centauri; he would also have had problems accepting the cruel truth that he was half-alien.
He shuddered. Half-alien? What sort of rubbish was that again? Artemis started to fear for his sanity.
With the intention of closing the file, he glanced at the computer's screen again, but before he could have clicked on the tiny X in the upper right-hand corner, a few words caught his eyes: mum likes him.
Forcing himself to clear his mind, he read the sentence from the beginning to understand it in its entirety. It was in the middle of the following – and final – paragraph.
I will ask mum about this whole Fowl affair, though. I want to hear it from her mouth. I want to know why exactly they had bred me. I'm also wondering how mum feels about my father. I've read all the files concerning Fowl and it seems to me that despite having been kidnapped by him, mum likes him. At least that's what Foaly's personal journal said. I know, I know, I shouldn't have read it, but I needed to know everything on my ancestry. Foaly wrote that at first he believed mum to be under the Stockholm syndrome, but later on he began to think that this wasn't the case. Apparently she had befriended Fowl and after Fowl's mind-wipe she wasn't herself. What could have affected her this much about a Mud Boy? Honestly.
Artemis felt a smile spread on his face. Not a grin, not a smirk, but a genuine smile. A rare thing for Artemis Fowl!
So, after all, the 'annoyed by your presence, Fowl' behaviour was merely a mask Holly used to hide behind. She still regarded him as her friend. Or perhaps more? Artemis touched his fingertips to each other, his mind replaying scenes: Holly approaching him at his workroom, her eyes wide with surprise; Holly insisting that she liked Trouble Kelp a lot; Holly forgetting to close her mouth when he'd asked for her shaving kit…
A new smile spread on his face at the thought of Patrick reading into Foaly's journal. So, after all, he shouldn't feel that guilty, for he wasn't the only one to peek into other's private thoughts. Like father, like son…
Amused, Artemis closed Patrick's diary and inserted another disk into the computer. This one wasn't encrypted, and, as it turned out, it contained files on the Project.
For some reason Artemis had a difficult time concentrating on the descriptions on HeLa cells and Phosphate buffered saline…
That evening Holly came home in an unusually good mood.
"Has someone painted that smile on your face?" asked Artemis over dinner.
"No." She shook her head. "But I do have a good reason to smile. We've captured the owner of the blue eyeball gem and interrogated him a bit."
"Has he given information of importance?" wondered Juliet.
"Definitely. All it took was pointing a gun at his head and he squealed on his last employer. Apparently the bloke who had kidnapped Patrick is called Quench. And you know what? This Quench is said to be a millionaire. Quite a famous person, though barely anyone has seen him yet. He seems to be a shy person…"
"…or he's hiding something," added Artemis.
"Very likely." Holly nodded. "Now the next step is to round up this Quench person and we'll have Patrick back."
"Sounds way too simple to me," remarked Juliet.
"Yeah, indeed it does sound too simple," admitted the commander. "But certainly it isn't. Quench doesn't seem to have a registered address at all. Foaly reckons he must live under another name or at some hidden place unknown to the rest of the world, like a deserted mine…"
"So he could be possibly anywhere. Even in the flat right above yours," Artemis said matter-of-factly.
Reluctantly, Holly nodded.
"Then I don't understand your good mood, Commander," the young man continued. "You don't really have a reason to feel happy, for our goal still seems unachievable."
"True, but we have taken a step, and an important one at that, so don't go ruining my good mood, Fowl!" Holly scowled.
Juliet rolled her eyes. Every evening the same: Artemis and Holly bickering at the dinner table – Artemis making remarks on the LEP's incompetence, Holly making remarks on Artemis's slow progress with the Project. The very air seemed to vibrate between these two, and Juliet thought that if looks could kill, then these two would have long ago died.
It had been three days since Patrick had last consumed any meal. He knew that one could live without food for seven days, but without drink only three-four days. He was thirsting; he was hungry, tired and cold. It crossed his mind that even Howler's Peak must be a more comfortable place. Not that he wasn't given any food – after two days of starving him, Quench had sent him a plate of what looked like moss salad, but he hadn't touched it. He had a suspicion that the salad had been soaked in Obedience Serum before it was served.
He just couldn't risk tasting it, or he'd find himself forced to carry out the deformed fairy's vile orders. No way would a Short succumb to anyone! His mother had once borne captivity with tremendous courage, and Patrick didn't intend to be any weaker than she had been.
In the past three days he'd caught himself thinking of his mother a lot. More than he had thought of her in his entire life. He couldn't help but admire her bravery and willingness to help everyone. No doubt she was already planning a rescue mission… Patrick took heart from convincing himself that help was on the way. That was the only thing that kept him from reaching out and grabbing that plate of salad.
"Do I really have to go?" Juliet pouted when Julius arrived in his shuttle to transport her back to his flat.
"Do you have to ask each evening?" Holly sighed.
"I know, I know, you don't have place for one more Mud Person." Juliet waved. "I was just hoping that one day you'd change your mind…" She sent Artemis a resigned look, and donning the camouflage foil, she followed Root out onto the street.
"She seems a bit too attached to you," the commander remarked, closing the front door.
"Yeah, she does." Artemis replied from the couch. He was holding a remote control in his hand, his eyes fixed upon the TV. "I can't believe you're getting twenty-year-old Mexican soap operas!"
"Is there something between you two?" asked Holly out of the blue.
"Yeah. Working relationship," he replied. "Does Esmeralda always have to lust after this Jose Armando?"
Ignoring his evasive question, she carried on. "Working relationship… does that mean you haven't been shagging her?"
"I never said that."
Holly arched an eyebrow at him.
"As I said, working relationship," he answered, directing his attention back to Esmeralda, who was making huge eyes at Jose Armando. "It helps her to keep fit, for it's some sort of gymnastic exercise. It helps me too to clear my mind…"
Holly's eyes narrowed. "To clear your mind?"
"Yeah," Artemis said, switching to another channel that happened to be showing Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. "You know, humans on average use less than 30 of their brain-capacity. I can usually use 70, but after a good shag even 90. My gosh, I can't believe the bloke doesn't know the answer to that!" He pointed at the screen, on which a sweating man was contemplating whether to phone his mummy or ask the audience about the following question: Who was Villon? A: an actor B: a poet C: a football player D: winner of Big Brother.
"So, that's why she keeps pleading with me to let her stay here?" Holly concluded. "She wants to do some 'gymnastic exercises' with you."
"Could be." Artemis shrugged, then let out a huge groan when the man selected C: football player. Idiot. Failing the ? 200 question!
In a much worse mood, Holly decided to go to bed. Artemis watched her receding figure, hiding a smile. Commander Short indeed was gullible… But if she was asking such indiscreet questions, then that was what she deserved. Not jealous, eh? With a satisfied grin on his face, Artemis directed his attention back to the game show, only occasionally rolling his eyes at the players' stupidity.
Patrick was sizing up the glass of slightly murky water he'd been given during the day. He licked his lips – correction: he tried to lick them, but there wasn't enough liquid left in him to salivate. His mouth had completely dried out; his stomach had compressed so small that he was sure he'd throw up if he tried to eat anything; and he was hovering on the edge of fainting.
He had never thought he'd ever find a glass of dirty water so enticing. He could almost hear it calling out to him, pressing him to drink it…
I'm having hallucinations, he thought, which was quite remarkable, since the boy was barely awake enough to form coherent thoughts.
The glass started to sing like a siren from the Greek legends. Drink me, drink me, Patrick!
"No!" he shouted, and with the last bit of his strength, he kicked the glass that fell over, the drink spilling onto the stone floor. Patrick no longer saw it trickle into the floor's crevices, for he'd lost consciousness.
The last player seemed quite clever to Artemis, too bad he'd failed to answer the ?1.000.000 question on converting parsecs into light-years. Too easy for a final question, Artemis thought, switching off the TV. One parsec equals 3.26 light-years. Every idiot was supposed to know that.
Before turning in, he decided to visit 'number four'. Opening the back door, he looked around carefully to make sure no fairies were around. He just didn't feel like wrapping himself in camouflage foil for a quick pee.
The coast was clear. He crept out and carefully closed the back door behind himself.
After a laughably easy victory over the computer in fairy chess, he made his way towards the building. Someone must have switched off the lights in the neighbouring garden, as the back yard was completely dark now. Hoping that he'd somehow manage to type in the entrance code even at such darkness, Artemis kept walking across the grass. Suddenly the grass disappeared from under his feet.
Before he could even have yelped, a hand clasped over his mouth, another one holding him firmly in place.
A/N: the 'Villon as a football player' wasn't my idea. A stupid woman in a Hungarian reality show said she thought Villon was a football player, discrediting herself before the whole country. She was even miffed when she read in the tabloids that everyone was laughing at her. I found this incident so hilarious that I just had to write it into the fic ;)
Review, please!
