Artemis was still intrigued with the physical changes to Nopal's body. The musculature that she had suddenly grown as a result of Holly's magical healing, if anything, undersold the impressive amount of strength the pixie had gained. Artemis suspected that Nopal's muscles and bones were unnaturally dense, affecting her strength and weight. However, short of strapping her to a medical table and cutting her open, he had no way of knowing exactly what modifications Opal had engineered into her clone body. She had likely done it on a whim too, or else it would be likely that Nopal would also be able to shoot lightning bolts from her eyes or something similarly absurd.
Luckily for the both of them, Nopal was "only" absurdly athletic. After ensuring that she was probably no harm to him, Artemis entrusted the migraine-ridden Holly to Butler while he worked on the next step of the plan to get to space. He wasn't looking forward to it.
Before him, in the deep, forgotten depths of his workshop, sat a block of metal, wire, and chrome. It was a ham radio, and it was old. How old exactly, Artemis wasn't entirely sure, but when he had first unearthed it, he found a bullet with rifling that was consistent with firearms manufactured during the Great War.
While Artemis was grimacing at the metal monstrosity, Nopal was flexing her fingers. It was fascinating that she could do that! She had the inkling that maybe she could do a cartwheel next. The pixie glanced around briefly at her surroundings and decided against it. Crashing into a pile of rusty screwdrivers and bolts seemed like an unfun way to spend her time.
Then she saw Artemis wrap his arms around the metal monstrosity in a clear attempt to lift the thing. He succeeded in budging it several inches, but not very much beyond that. After a while, Artemis conceded his defeat and was about to call Butler. Nopal smiled. She could help!
"Arty, let me try," she chirped. Her tiny stature bumped past the despondent human and gripped the radio. She was having a difficult time reaching the device, as the table was built for taller folk in mind, but slowly and surely, she managed to lug the hunk of metal off of the table. For a brief second, Artemis had the horrible image in his mind that Nopal was going to carry the thing above her head and have it crash down on her with less than pretty results. Thankfully, that didn't happen.
Arms slightly wobbling, Nopal managed to press the device above her head. She had a triumphant smile on her face that Artemis couldn't help but return. Her enthusiasm really was infectious. Then she took a step forward and dangerously tottered. Artemis managed to rush in and stabilize it at the last second, but even ensuring it stayed where it was pushing him to his physical limits.
Butler, I swear that I will do all the exercise that you ask of me after this, Artemis told himself for perhaps the seventh time in so many hours. Out loud all he did was grunt rather uncouthly and hope that it conveyed his sense of dismay with the current predicament.
"This is fun," giggled Nopal, from somewhere below the radio.
"Are you certain that we shouldn't call Butler over to assist?" Artemis managed to gasp out in response.
"Nope. Big man is scary. Besides, Nopal is very strong. Just keep the funny metal block steady."
"We have to go up several flights of stairs."
"Yay!" Nopal cheered, beginning to move towards the door. The radio lurched and Artemis cursed himself and whatever cro-magnons were developing 1920's radio technology that doubled as bludgeoning weapons.
"Yay," he echoed with markedly less enthusiasm.
—
Gasping and panting, the pair finally made it to the top floor of the manor. That is to say, the top not including the attic, but Artemis had no desire to spend even more time finding the ladder and humping the decrepit piece of metal further still. Even Nopal was winded after the trek.
"Arty," she moaned. "My arms are jelly."
Artemis had to agree, and he hadn't even done any of the hard work. Furthermore, he was deeply concerned about dropping the metal brick on some antique chestnut table top. Luckily, among the venerable halls of Fowl Manor, there were some pockets of modernity where he could dent a plastic table with little guilt. This cozy little office space, for instance. It had a stone porch overlooking the grounds outside, but otherwise was the very picture of a clerical space one would do their taxes in. The intrepid duo had set their ancient radio on a very modern off-white plastic table that even had little wheels, a feature that Artemis had nearly broken down and wept upon seeing.
"Alright, Nopal, I'll wheel this out onto the balcony," Artemis said, making sure the device was still in working condition. By some miracle it was.
"Wait," Nopal panted, lying on the carpet, "I'll come with. Just—just give me breathing time."
Artemis nodded in response, checking his wristwatch. Well they had several minutes before their window of time opened up anyways. Once Nopal had finished gasping, they briskly wheeled the contraption outside, opening up the delicate glass windows. Artemis nearly slipped to death on the smooth stone outside, but Nopal caught him before he could gain a matching welt on his forehead.
Someone should really fix that.
Whether he was talking about the worn down masonry or his own miserable coordination was anyone's guess.
Once Nopal had ensured that Artemis was capable of standing on his two feet, she finally glanced at her surroundings.
And abruptly stopped.
Her mouth hung open as the pixie stared off into the distance. Following her gaze, Artemis found the Irish night sky blinking playfully at him, crowded with as many celestial bodies he had ever seen it. Since light pollution had all but stopped for the past day or so, the night sky was once again lit only by a full moon and a splattering of Milky Way stars.
Nopal's eyes twinkled, the chocolate scleras filled to the brim with all the sparkling jewels of the night sky. To the pixie, the dome of heaven was the most beautiful sight that she had ever seen. Artemis, despite himself, couldn't help but smile at the display of naked wonder.
"Do you like the view, Nopal?" he asked, breaking her enchantment for a second.
"Yes. When I saw the stars the other day, they were fading into the day. But now…" she trailed off, gesturing at it all. "Look at them!"
Look at them, indeed. Artemis took the pixie's advice and found himself relaxing. He hadn't seriously looked at the stars in quite some time, not outside of strictly astronomical endeavours anyways. But now that he was absorbed by it all, he could forget for a second that the world had nearly been in grave peril as a result of the pixie next to him.
"I want them all."
And sometimes he couldn't help but remember. Artemis looked at Nopal, an eyebrow quirked. The pixie met his questioning gaze and smiled.
"I want them all," Nopal repeated, as if that explained everything.
"Why would you want that?" Artemis asked, a hint of apprehension entering his voice.
In response, Nopal returned her eyes to the motes of light in the night sky and spread her arms wide, as if to hug all of it fiercely to her chest.
"Because I thought they were beautiful when I first saw them. And now that I can touch them, maybe I can take them."
She turned back to Artemis, her smile somewhere between gentle and savage. The look of a fairy with a singular goal and only love in her heart. Artemis took a step back.
"Then I can give them to you and Holly!" she finished sweetly.
For a while, neither of them spoke. Artemis found the box of truffles in his coat pocket, and pushed it further in. He could let Holly give the chocolates to Nopal for him.
Artemis didn't know if he could give them to Opal.
—
After some minutes had passed, it was time. Artemis spotted a bright white dot appear on the horizon, zipping through the sky. However, instead of blinking like a plane, it was quite steady.
"Arty?"
"Yes, Nopal?"
"What is this old metal box? And what are you going to do with it?"
"It's a ham radio," Artemis explained, a touch conflicted about how much he really wanted to explain to Nopal. "I will be using it to contact the astronauts aboard the International Space Station. Their frequency is public knowledge, so I simply have to hope that they are monitoring their radios and that they are working."
Nopal nodded seriously. Then she frowned, peering at the metallic box sitting on the table. Was this really even technology? She poked at it, examined it from every angle, and even gave it a cursory lick. It tasted like rust and oil. Licking it wasn't strictly necessary to tell how the machine worked, but she wanted to give it a try anyways. A bemused Artemis stood beside her, fiddling with the controls.
"Arty?" she asked, more than a little skeptical. "Are you sure this can transmit into space?"
In response, Artemis turned on several dials and flipped some switches. The ancient thing roared to life, crackling and buzzing as it scanned through frequencies. Nopal jumped back, wary of the whining machine. There was the ghost of a smug smile on Artemis's lips.
"There's quite a lot to be said about human ingenuity, Nopal. For example, even though this device is nearing a century old, it's still quite functional. It may well be the sole device that we can use to communicate with the astronauts."
Nopal nodded, considering this. That made sense. Useful things do a thing that nobody else can. The pixie cautiously reached out and pet the radio.
"Good ham," she praised.
Artemis snorted, shaking his head. Finally, he found the correct frequency. The radio blared to life, treating the two to the harsh sounds of klaxons and a high-pitched distress signal.
"—on revolving frequencies," came a deep voice with a distinctly southern twang. "I repeat, the International Space Station is reporting multiple module failures, full extent of damage unknown. We have three crewmen remaining on board with limited oxygen, food, and water. Requesting extraction."
Artemis stared at the radio grimly, before bringing a rather old mic to his mouth.
"International Space Station, this is Ireland acknowledging your distress call."
The voice on the other end paused, as if in disbelief. Artemis and Nopal heard multiple voices start overlapping before the radioman finally responded.
"Good god, Ireland? Is that the ESA? We had just about given up hope up here."
"I'm afraid not," Artemis answered, grimacing. "I am a private citizen and not representing any space agency."
"Oh." Artemis could feel the hope curling up and dying in that one word. Nevertheless, there was already precious little time to be wasted, so he had to press on.
"However—and I wish to stress that this is no certain thing—I am an individual of considerable resources and there is a potential we may be able to launch a rescue operation for you and your crew."
"Are you pulling some kind of prank on me?" Despite the disbelieving words, Artemis could feel a spark of desperation leak into the man's tone.
"I'm afraid I am deadly serious, Mr. Cavanaugh."
"How do—alright, that's not important, it's public knowledge anyways. But do you know what happened? All the communications are down and half the satellites up here are falling out of orbit."
"Some kind of mass microprocessor failure," Artemis lied. "The reason is unknown at the moment. Perhaps an EMP. Nevertheless, there is little time to speculate. Your radio is using energy that should be conserved and there is only a small window for us to continue talking anyways. I need to know how long your supplies will last you and whether or not the Soyuz escape craft is operational or not."
There was silence over the end as the astronauts silently took stock of their supplies. Nopal watched Artemis fingers twitch unconsciously, playing a piano concerto that only he could see. What the pixie saw was a rhythm game, and she tried matching. She was close, but she felt like she was just a note or two behind. Man, where had Arty been hiding these rhythm games?
Nopal eventually gave up and put her hands directly over Artemis' in an effort to match them closer. This broke his concentration, and he had hardly given Nopal a peeved glare before the radio crackled to life again.
"Alright. If you're not crazy and can actually do something about this fine mess we're stuck in, then don't take more than two weeks. Two-and-a-half if we're real lucky. As for the Soyuz capsule, she's working, but all her navigational equipment is fried. I think the propulsion is kaput too."
"Excellent. If an emergency occurs I will be monitoring this frequency but I advise that you shut off all non-essential electronics. I wish you luck."
The astronaut coughed.
"Look, mister," he said seriously, "I don't know who or what I'm putting my faith in, but if it means you gotta risk your neck for us up here, don't. I don't want you to get killed on our accounts. We knew the risks coming up here."
"I believe that we're capable of a rescue."
"You sound damn certain."
"That's because he's Arty," Nopal chimed in. Artemis gave her an aggrieved look.
"Is that a little girl? Well, whatever, we're almost out of range," the radio began to crackle, breaking up. "Godspeed. ISS out."
The sound of radio static rushed from the radio one last time before it gave out. Then it was silent. Artemis took a deep breath, the night air cool in his lungs. Two weeks to get into space, dock with the ISS, and rescue the astronauts. Simple.
"Arty," asked Nopal, breaking into his thoughts, "are we going into space?"
"Yes, we are."
"Can I take some stars while we're there?"
Artemis, at first somewhat annoyed with Nopal's antics throughout the conversation, felt a twinge of amusement. He had mistaken it for Opal's megalomania at first, that desire for dominion over the impossible. But the child-like amazement in that tone wasn't quite that. Hadn't he wanted the stars when he was a child, but only given up when he found out that it was impossible? But then again, fairies were impossible. Hesitantly, Artemis reached out and put a hand on Nopal's shoulder.
Were Holly here, she would have guffawed at Artemis's weak attempt at physical affection. A hypothetical Artemis would have simply pointed out that it was much more sanitary and professional than a hug or ruffling of one's hair, but hypothetical Artemis also knew that it was a flimsy argument and desisted.
"If you find any while we're working, you are free to take them."
Nopal smiled and pumped her fists into the air. If any of the stars had heard this exchange, they would likely be quite worried.