Author Notes

If all goes according to plan, there should be one more chapter after this. Again, thank you all for the unexpectedly positive reviews! They've kept me motivated to go on writing.

Without further ado, Chapter 5:


Haven City, three weeks later

Holly stormed into Trouble Kelp's office with a bone to pick. "Why haven't you cleared my visa? Artemis is landing, tonight."

Kelp saluted sarcastically. "Good morning to you too, Commodore."

Holly shook her head. "I don't have time for this, Commander. What gives?"

Kelp shrugged. "We're short-handed at the moment. I can't afford to let you take a vacation with the turf wars flaring up again, and with the fallout of the Fowl Twins ordeal. My hands are tied."

Holly paced furiously, then wheeled on him. "Look, Trouble. The turf wars are always flaring up. Either you let me go for 24 hours, and be down one fairy for that duration, or I go without your permission, and you're down an entire Retrieval squad for however long it takes to catch me."

Trouble's violet eyes flickered with annoyance. "I wonder if perhaps the Council promoting you was the right choice. You're not making it easy to work with you, Short."

"Then it should be no great loss for you to not have to work with me for the next 24 hours. Clear my visa." Her mismatched eyes bore into his soul, daring him to refuse.

No one said a word for a long moment. Their little staring match was interrupted, however, by Foaly on the intercom. "Hey Commander, did I leave my pink stylus in there? I borrowed it from Caballine and she'd be heartbroken if I were to lose it."

The two elves found middle ground in their shared annoyance at Foaly's constant whinnying. They both reached for the button at the same time, their hands touching. Holly drew her hand back, uncomfortable at the contact.

Trouble looked at her curiously as he answered Foaly. "No stylus in here, Foaly. Call Howler's Peak. We've just started rolling out the literacy program for the goblin prisoners and it might've been mixed up with the LeapToad tablets."

Foaly cursed. "I'll check with them, thanks. Oh, by the way! Wouldn't you know it, Commander. Word has just come down from the Council that they want Commodore Short to be on-site in Ireland to debrief Artemis Fowl on his astronomical discoveries. And to ensure his safe landing, him being an ally and all that. Who knew?" And then he was gone.

Kelp frowned. "Well, that settles that. Take one of those newfangled Neutrinos on your way out of the city."

Holly scoffed. "Is that really necessary?"

"It's Fowl," he offered, feeling that to be explanation enough.

"My point exactly."

He looked suspiciously between his hand and hers, where they had touched when reaching for the intercom. After a moment, he sighed, and dismissed her. Crazy girly commodore.


Earth orbit, that evening

"Prepare for descent, Butler."

"Does that mean I am to stay in my chair, strapped in like I have been all day?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm prepared."


Villa Éco

Holly stood with Myles and Beckett on the porch of the Fowl residence, squinting at the sky for any sign of Artemis. Artemis Senior and Angeline were out of town, as Artemis Junior had decided to keep his return a surprise. That, and he didn't want to deal with his mother's worrying over his re-entry.

Holly marveled at the twins' almost two-foot height advantage, wondering where the time had gone. Just yesterday, they were toddlers possessed by ancient fairy warriors.

"Look!" cried Beckett. "Phoenix!"

Holly glanced in the direction the boy was pointing, to see a fiery object streaking through the sky. It reminded her a little too much of Koboi, reborn with nuclear fire and descending upon the world. The fiery streak got closer as the minutes ticked by, and no one dared to look away, lest something catastrophic happen and they miss it.

"Should it still be on fire like that?" asked Holly.

Myles cleared his throat. "There are an enormous amount of variables involved. It could be completely normal, or they could be dead inside."

Beckett cried in anguish at the thought, and Holly kicked Myles' shin. "Not helpful," she growled.

"Look! He's okay!" called Beckett, pointing up at the rocket ship that was no longer on fire from re-entry.

"He could still be dead, just not on fire," pointed out Myles, massaging his shin. Holly was about to kick the other shin, but then she heard faint radio chatter coming from Myles' glasses. The boy cleared his throat, and replied. "Artemis Fowl, this is Myles Fowl broadcasting from Villa Éco, do you copy?" broadcast Myles.

"Arty?" added Beckett.

"…coming in… still on target, should be… stay back, though."

Holly smiled at the thought of seeing Artemis again. Yes, she had to have a long and possibly painful conversation with him, but seeing him in the flesh would give her great relief. After some of Number One's stories about his own moon mission, she had been worried about the mud man more than she would have admitted.

A few minutes later, the Interstellar's gold sheen was clearly visible as the craft manoeuvred to land on the beach. Holly guessed that a good amount of that flying was thanks to the auto-pilot, knowing Artemis to not be so graceful at the stick. He had crashed at least two planes on their adventures, after all. The fact that she had crashed a similar amount of shuttles was beside the point.

Without incident, the rocket oriented itself upright, and slowly touched down on the beach about three hundred metres away. The revolutionary craft emitted no traditional fumes (bad for the environment and also unsafe, he had said), but there was still a good deal of wind and sand flurrying around the ship as it touched down with a mushing sound on the wet beach. Holly had not even attempted to understand how the thing worked.

The Interstellar's gold-plated solar panels (which still no one had given Artemis a medal, or even a certificate for) caught the evening sun fantastically. The rocket was unscathed after re-entry, looking quite picturesque as it sat on the beach, and Holly couldn't help but stare at the gold on the ship a little longer than necessary.

The hatch opened, and out stepped Artemis. He looked exhausted, even from this distance. He took one step away from the rocket, and immediately fell flat on his face.

Holly laughed, and ran all the way across the beach to help him up. "Gravity" he explained, as Holly got him into a sitting position.

"Let me help. We get this problem sometimes when we use moon belts. Number One developed a technique to treat it magically. Conveniently, this gave Foaly an excuse to make an even more efficient, nauseating moonbelt."

Artemis nodded, struggling to breathe. He felt like he was being crushed by the planet. Holly placed her hands on his temples, and breathed some word in Gnommish that he didn't have the mental capacity to translate at the moment.

Slowly but surely, it was if she was restoring equilibrium to the balance fluid in his skull, and adjusting his paltry muscles to normal gravity at the same time, with blue sparks dancing around the contact.

Artemis smiled at her when she pulled away. "It is as if the weight of the world has been lifted from my shoulders," he quipped.

No sooner had he made the joke than Butler dragged himself out of the rocket in a heap. He too, could not stand to stand.

Myles and Beckett approached the rocket's crew at their own paces. Beckett sprinted, and leapt into his big brother's arms, laughing and smiling. Holly got out of the way, and moved on to Butler, magically easing his transition into life with gravity. "That's another one I owe you, Captain… Commodore," groaned Butler, massaging his muscles.

"Who's counting?" Holly shrugged.

Myles strolled to the landing site as dignified as he possibly could on the sand, and shook hands with his older brother. "Welcome back to Earth, Doctor Fowl. Much has taken place since your departure. And your flight suit is covered is sand."

"I did hear that a lot had happened," said Artemis, trying vainly to brush the sand off his clothes. "I am glad you two are safe. And I have much to discuss with all of you in turn." He glanced meaningfully at Holly, who nodded. "But for now, how about shared dinner? We haven't eaten real food in seven months."

Myles scoffed. "Beckett hasn't eaten real food in all his life."


Inside

As Holly, Butler, and Beckett made their way to the dining room, Myles pulled Artemis aside, in the hallway, to have a word. "Brother," he began. "I have an important question."

Artemis smiled curiously. "Yes?" Maybe it was a question about a discovery he had made in space. Maybe Myles was curious as to his experience.

"Do you think you have returned for the right reasons?" asked the younger Fowl.

Artemis was taken aback. So much for admiration. "What are you talking about?"

"Beckett informs me that there is potential attraction between you and Commodore Short. Ordinarily, I do not take Beckett's word for anything, but it is consistent with the facts. You rushed back to the planet only after learning about a potential lifespan extension method. Elves generally live longer than humans."

Artemis could not help but beam. His little brother was as sharp as a tack. However… "Myles, I don't see the problem. Help me out here."

Myles registered surprise. "You don't see the problem? You are letting your emotions get in the way of scientific pursuits. You are here now to assist in studying the troll attributes, but at the great expense of potential other gains on Mars. Even in your first week in space, you discovered Luna Minor, whose qualities measurably affect global tides and therefore countless lives."

Artemis spared a moment to gloat, leaning against the hall wall smugly. "Oh, now you admit my discovery while in lunar orbit is significant. Better late than never, I suppose."

Myles tut-tutted. "Brother, that is beside the point once again. Your choice to pursue longer life has been decided based on very unscientific reasoning."

Artemis sighed, and peered into the kitchen, where Holly and Beckett were making the most glorious of messes while putting together a fruit salad. They giggled and laughed together at every new fruit juice stain. Butler sat at the buffet, smiling contently. Artemis caught his eye, and the larger man winked.

Artemis pulled himself back into the hallway to place his hands on Myles' shoulders, and stare intently into his eyes. "Myles, listen well," he began. "When one makes a hard decision based on emotion, it is not a sign of weakness. It is a sign of strength. To wall up your emotions, to try to live as man of logic and science only? This is, conversely, not strength. It is weakness. I sincerely apologise that Father and I have not been around as much as we should have been, to teach you these things that we ourselves both learned only after years of hardship. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to make a mess of our kitchen, and enjoy the company of my dearest companions. You are free to join us." And with that, Artemis strode into the kitchen.

It was quite a scene.

"I can't tell, is this art class, or culinary class?" joked Artemis, examining a sculpture made of mashed fruit by Beckett.

"Interstellar," beamed the boy.

Artemis' eyes widened. "Wow, that's very good, Beck. A tasteful piece."

Holly groaned. "If you start to make puns like that every day, well, let me tell you…" she began. But Artemis' gentle expression as he took in Holly and Beckett disarmed her. "I'd cherry-ish every single one of them," she finished.

Butler snorted at Holly's joke. Myles, having collected himself, strode in then, and took a seat at the buffet next to Butler. He nodded. "An appropriate reaction," he stated, snorting as well.

Artemis eyed his genius brother meaningfully, and wondered as to his disposition. Would Myles ever soften up? Would it take years of molding by close friends and allies?

Myles returned Artemis' look. The other inhabitants of the room could sense that there was something going unsaid. Finally, Myles relaxed his vampirish cheekbones. "I apologise. Artemis' puns are just so tedious to endurian. Or, to employ Beckett's vernacular, they stink."

Artemis smiled smugly. "A well-laid wordplay, brother, with many layers."

Beckett brightened up. "Like an onion!"