A/N: Yes, surprise, I'm back again. So, I guess it's been… getting close to three years? I would apologize, but you know, I've been off in limbo doing very important things. (Yes… very important things.)
For anyone who might still actually be out there, I may have forgotten how to write in the meantime, so I hope you'll go easy on me.
Reminder of the T rating on this story, this chapter in particular, for significant bodily injury. If you're concerned and would like slightly more detail, skip ahead to the last paragraph of the author's note at the end.
Thanks so much for reading to anyone who's still around, and anyone new who might come along! Hope you enjoy, and see you all at the end~
Chapter 15: Phase One
"And, that's all we got, Commander."
Trouble Kelp's face was purple, and he was nearing the end of his already short reserve of patience. "That's all you got, centaur? All that money poured into your department, and all you can tell us about this ship is that you can't see it? What weapons? What engine power? What about Captain Short?"
Foaly sighed. "Well, thing looked like a warship, so best guess it's got no shortage of blasters and boosters. The stealth ore is the problem. There's no scanner above or under the world that can get around it, and it's even blocking us getting any signals off Captain Short's suit. Before Artemis tracked Opal's shuttle by scanning for a hole in the sky, but the false signals on atmospheric composition that thing is giving off kind of put the kibosh on that little trick."
Trouble Kelp furiously tapped the tri-barreled blaster at his hip. He'd had things perfectly under control until the goblin had shown up, soon followed by this mysterious stealth ore shuttle. Stealth ore was a rare and expensive substance to produce, only Opal Koboi had ever managed it. Yet Fowl must have more resources than they ever could have guessed—and now he had a hold of Captain Short.
"Options?" Trouble growled. "Can you track that thing some other way? If you're as clever as you think you are, now's the time to prove it, centaur."
Foaly tapped something into his computer. "Hard to say. If the engines were running we could track its location by sound, but it's gone silent for the moment, and our scanners haven't picked up any anomalies in air composition, those false signals are doing their work. It looks about like our enemy's thought of just about everything so far—I can think of a few things we might try, but no guarantees, at least not until I can build some new equipment."
"Fowl's learned off Koboi's mistakes," Trouble noted with a grimace.
Foaly sighed. "Fowl Manor has a lot of airspace. And once the stop breaks up, he could go anywhere. We can track the sound of the engine once he starts it up to get an approximate location, but by then it might be too late."
Trouble ground his teeth. As long as the time-stop was in effect, Fowl couldn't leave the grounds, at least assuming that he wasn't able to escape the way he had on his first confrontation with the People, however that was. However, this particular stop was a short one—this wasn't supposed to be a siege situation, rather the stop had just been a standard precautionary measure while they went in to apprehend the suspect. The lithium batteries it took to cast a time-stop were difficult and expensive to produce, so rather than waste them on an unnecessary full eight-hour stop, they had set one up for barely an hour and a half, just enough time to nab Fowl and prepare for their departure. And already over half of that time had elapsed.
"How much longer do we have?" Trouble demanded at last.
There was a pause as Foaly checked his screen. "Give or take, about half an hour."
Trouble considered this for a moment, fingers still tapping an impatient rhythm against the handle of his blaster. They were short on time—yet perhaps it would work in their favor. It meant that action would happen sooner rather than later, and there was nothing Trouble hated more than standing around waiting.
"That's enough," he said. "I've got a sky-full of fighters parked just outside of E-1 just in case something like this happened, that's enough time for them to get here and set up an ambush just outside the stop. Right now I'm going to take the ships we have and see if we can get lucky and nail him before the stop runs out."
"Could be risky," mused Foaly. "We've got no idea what that black bugger is capable of."
"Better to get shot down than let Fowl think he can just flutter off without a fight," Trouble retorted. He wiggled his fingers for emphasis. "He won't be getting away this time."
Trouble turned away from the screen to regard the team he had brought with him. "Lieutenant, you and a couple of your fairies will return with me to the ship. We're going to try to flush out Fowl the old fashioned way while Foaly's working on getting a fix on him. The rest of you—"
"Hold it."
The entire squad of fairies paused, and turned to see Artemis Fowl's giant bodyguard glaring down at them. A couple shuffled back a step.
"Artemis is as much a victim here as anyone else," the man said in his deep bass tones. "We need to get him back. He was taken by whoever is really behind this."
"You heard him," the female chimed in. "Put all those macho egos aside a second and think about it. Lizard-man said it—Artemis was his target from the start, and the real mastermind behind all this wanted him dead."
"Troll weevils," snapped Trouble. "The goblin was lying, that's what goblins do. He stepped in to save Fowl's sorry neck at the end. But I'm not going to stand here arguing with a pair of Fowl lackeys. Team Two, I want you to secure the premises, and Team Three, hold these two for questioning until we get back. Team One, we're headed for the ship. We're going to make Fowl sweat a little."
The commander disappeared through the door before Juliet could protest, soon followed by his teams. Team Three held up their guns and flexed their muscles, trying to look menacing, and Juliet rolled her eyes.
"Yeah," she said. "We are so scared." She turned to look at the screen, where Foaly was still at work. "You don't believe this, do you Foaly?"
Foaly hesitated. He didn't look her way. "Honestly, Mud Girl," he said in a tired voice, "I don't know what to think."
Juliet made a noise of derision in the back of her throat. "Well, that's just great."
Butler turned his eyes to gaze out through the hole the ship had left. Of course they couldn't see the ship now; it had pulled away and turned the color of the night sky. But he knew it was hovering somewhere in the airspace of Fowl Manor. And on that ship was his charge, the boy he was assigned to protect, who was as close to him as a brother.
They had been in situations worse than this before. But for some reason, Butler couldn't stop the cloud of foreboding that buzzed at the back of his skull. Something told him things were about to take a chronic downturn—and he didn't know if anyone would be able to stop it.
Not for the first time in his life, Artemis wished he possessed in his arsenal the ability to fend off assailants. As he felt the pair of scaly arms locked around him like a vice, bearing him along down the ship's long corridors, he knew he had to get away. However, his slender fingers couldn't seem to even bruise the hide, and the goblin didn't appear to notice his attempts to resist.
The goblin suddenly halted, and Artemis found himself lowered carefully onto a cool, metal floor, his back to a wall.
"You are safe now, master," said the goblin in a low rasp, panting. "The ship has pulled away from the manor."
Master. Artemis was still a little dazed, and he had to blink to focus his eyes. He stared at the goblin. The enemy. He tried to make his mind work, through the dark cloud of superstition and paranoia eating at the edges of his mind.
Had Opal somehow convinced this creature that he was really working for Artemis Fowl? He supposed that would explain why the goblin had not attacked him the previous night. Yet the goblin had also said that he was the one his real master wished to remove.
A ruse within a ruse? The situation was already proving complicated, it would take all his faculties to get a grasp on all the players here, and how the pieces fit together. Unfortunately, though his mind felt strangely clear for the moment, he didn't know how long it would last. The Complex pressed, heavy and inevitable, against the thin, brittle defenses around his thoughts, and at any moment he knew well he might devolve into crazed rambling and hysterics.
Focus, Artemis thought. It is a puzzle that must be solved, a mystery to unravel. Focus on gathering information.
The goblin looked up, down the corridor. "I must go," he said, standing. "I must make sure the crew has employed the proper ship defenses." He turned away, walking with a limp, and Artemis noticed the perforation in his leg from one of the laser strikes. Sparks sputtered around the wound as it healed, though the goblin ignored them.
The moment the goblin had disappeared around a corridor bend, Artemis forced himself jerkily to his feet. The goblin believed they were on the same side, thanks to Opal—an oversight on Opal's part, it would seem. Because, left alone, now he had the chance to escape.
Artemis turned, back in the direction they had come from. Dazed as he had been, he still knew the way back. The exit hatch, no doubt closed now, might be a slight obstacle, but if he was right, there should be a manual emergency release. He just had to—
Artemis had not taken two steps in that direction when something seized him roughly from behind. Both his arms were forcibly yanked behind his back, nearly pulling one of his shoulders from its socket, and something dark was shoved over his head, instantly cutting off his view of the corridor beyond and plunging the world into darkness.
He tried to shout—perhaps if the goblin really believed he was his master, then he might return to offer some protection—but the cloth over his head muffled any sound. The backs of his Gucci loafers dragged along the metal floor as he was hauled backward.
One-two-three-four-five, he counted, knowing he was giving into superstition, but feeling it was worth the trade for a moment more of clear thinking. Two assailants, he guessed, based on the positions of the handgrips on his arms. Just two, if the lack of other footsteps on the floor beyond those on either side of him were any indication. However, two was more than enough—from the heavy echo of their feet and the feel of the stiff gloves through the jacket of his suit, he would also surmise they were soldiers, well equipped, and likely also equally well trained.
The stirrings of panic curled at the back of Artemis's mind—if he was locked up, there was likely to be no escape. However, he closed his eyes, and employed a breathing exercise—five deep breaths. The panic receded. He must be on the lookout for an opportunity, and seize it the moment it came.
The air on his skin altered slightly, the temperature falling by perhaps a degree or two. As expected, they had moved him from the open corridor into a room. The gloved hands shoved him forward roughly, and he struck the floor hard, shoulder first. Ears ringing, he forced himself up, reaching up and yanking off the hood over his head.
His eyes fell on his assailants. As he had thought, there were two of them, both in black combat armor, and helmets with mirrored visors concealing their faces. Though the helmets made it difficult to distinguish one from the other, one had a slighter build, perhaps female. The room was dim and shadowy around them, the only light from an open door standing behind them.
Artemis might have remarked then on their passing resemblance to Star Wars storm troopers, and his indecision whether to be impressed or appalled at his enemy's garish taste for melodrama—but they were not done with him yet.
The two guards descended on him like crows on a rat carcass, and for a moment he thought they had somehow read his mind, and now intended to beat him into submission. But instead one ripped off his dust-covered jacket, while the other began to undo the buttons of his starched collared shirt in record time. His belt and trousers were next, and in a moment he was left shivering in his Armani boxer shorts on the floor. The metal was icy to the touch, stinging wherever skin made contact.
He looked up to see the guards standing over him, one with his clothing over one arm, the other gripping his loafers.
Humiliation tactics? he thought. He supposed Opal was not above such things. Or perhaps it was simply a precaution, in case he had some device or tool hidden up one of his sleeves. Not an unfair concern.
"It's done," said the one with the clothes. Artemis thought he detected a slight Russian accent, but the voice seemed to be going through some filter in the helmet, and came out mechanical and robotic. "Now we wait here."
"How long?" said the other guard. This one was slightly taller, shoulders broader, likely male.
"A minute perhaps. Master Fowl said there was to be no delay."
Master Fowl. Foreboding prickled at his consciousness. For an instant, ghostly images of things not there seemed to flash in front of his eyes, and numbers raced up and down, some good, some bad. Theories he knew should be there seemed to dance just at the edge of his mind, and he couldn't seem to take hold of them.
These two believed, like the goblin, that they were working for him. Yet here he sat before them. Could they be mesmerized? Drugged? But there was not a sign of it in their quick, efficient movements.
Artemis propped himself up on his elbow, ignoring the shock of cold as a new patch of bare skin was exposed to the frigid surface. One of the guards touched the side of their helmet, and it must have been a message, because abruptly the two turned their backs on him, moving in the direction of the open door beyond.
Artemis watched them go. However, when they reached the open doorway, a voice from outside murmured something, and they didn't close the door behind them. Instead they both came to a stop just outside, postures suddenly stiff and at attention as they faced something just down the corridor, cut off from view.
"Yes, sir," said the guard with the clothes. "We have them as you instructed."
"Well done," answered the third voice. "Then give them to me. There is not a second to waste."
Artemis felt his blood freeze in his veins. He heard the voice, but did not believe it. Those cold, sophisticated tones with a slight Irish accent.
"Yes, sir," the guard said again, and stepped forward to hand over the load, as did the other.
"Good," said the voice. "And may I assume you remembered to bring our guest something to wear? We wouldn't want him catching cold."
"Yes, sir. Of course, sir."
The guard stepped back into the room briefly, and tossed a mass of something in Artemis's general direction, then stepped back out, attention back on the individual before them.
"Good," he said again. "Then I would like the two of you to remain here. Make certain our honored guest does not escape."
"Yes, sir."
The third figure stepped forward then, and for the first time, Artemis could make out the sharp profile in the dim light. There was a curve to the thin lips as his eyes flickered to Artemis.
"Please," he said in familiar, deceptively gracious tones. "Feel free to relax and enjoy the performance."
Then he was gone, the heavy metal door clanking firmly into place, leaving Artemis in total darkness.
Artemis crawled forward on hands and knees toward the bundle the guard had left for him. Every time he touched his bare palms to the cold surface, he had to suppress a wracking shiver.
When Artemis reached the pile, he inspected it carefully. It appeared to be a bathrobe, snow white and embroidered with the letters JS in gold on the breast. Artemis spent a moment debating whether it was some kind of trap, but then pulled it on, cinching it off at the waist with the fabric belt. At least it afforded some dignity—if there was still a chance for rescue, however remote, he didn't relish the thought of running about the ship in only a little more than his skin.
Artemis climbed to his feet and turned around, for the first time fully taking in his surroundings. The light was dim, the room around him hard to make out, but it appeared to be entirely empty. Broad stretches of barren steel floor and walls extended out on every side of him, devoid of furniture or decoration.
She wishes me to feel insignificant and alone, he thought. He couldn't entirely deny that, so far, her plan was working.
Now that the immediate danger seemed to be over for the time being, he found his mind circling back over the events. Commander Kelp, convinced of his guilt. Even Foaly, as well. But what about Butler, Juliet? Holly? They still seemed to believe him. And yet—
Artemis pictured again the thing in the corridor, and chills spiked up and down the back of his neck. It had to be a trick—a machine, or plastic surgery, or at most a braindead clone Opal was manipulating remotely. Enough to fool the goblin, but surely nothing that would stand up to close scrutiny by those who really knew him.
But there was a glaring piece of unexplained evidence that stood out among the rest. Ever since he had seen Opal's stealth ore shuttle during the Zito probe affair, he had fantasized about constructing his own craft, with a few little improvements, of course. While it had been an amusing exercise, he had lacked the resources or means to ever hope to construct it, and so had never even bothered to draw up the schematics. Opal might be able to replicate his appearance—but she should not have been able to replicate the craft so exactly to his own tastes and specifications. Could Opal now read his mind from clear across the world? And if so—how could he ever hope to outwit her?
Artemis shook his head, forcing himself to swallow the fear and paranoia back down. He had to believe he could beat her. Or at least, help his friends get him out of here. There was no future in giving into despair.
Artemis scanned the empty room once again. The heavy steel door had no handle or code-lock, and instead seemed to blend in with the walls around it, the seam so tight it was barely discernible. However, as his eyes flickered up to scan the edge of the ceiling above the door, he noticed for the first time four speakers set into the wall in the far corner. Each a shade darker than the wall around them, all squares.
The ceiling was at least ten feet high, too far to reach without a tool of some kind, but he did take note of their number and shape. More of Opal's taunts, he suspected. This room had not been in his original design.
As Artemis moved closer to study the speakers, a light suddenly flickered on behind him. He turned, and was startled to see the entire back wall was suddenly gone—opening up onto another room.
This new room was not empty, and instead was filled with what appeared to be tiered rows of sleek black flight chairs, facing away from him. In front of each flickered computer readout screens, and just beyond them stretched an enormous windshield, revealing the swirling mist of the night sky outside. At the center of the room sat an elevated command seat, empty at the moment, overlooking it all.
This was a room Artemis knew. The command center, from which the ship was operated. He had been careful in his mental schematics to ensure the ship was possible to man with only two pilots—a necessity, given that Artemis anticipated the likely need to be able to pilot it with only himself and Butler as crew. It matched his own mental picture down to the last detail, to the precise material and design of the command chair—the finest black leather upholstery, of course—and number and positioning of operating stations. Even the emergency exit hatch on the far side, operable from the command chair but also a manual lever set into the wall, just in case.
Two armored soldiers, different from the ones who had captured him before, currently sat at the front-most controls, operating the ship. They were facing the windscreen, and had not turned around to see him, standing in a dim empty room in bare feet and a bathrobe.
Artemis had no time to riddle out why Opal had brought him here, or what she hoped to accomplish. The exit hatch must be his objective now—on the off chance it wasn't a trap, if he could only get outside the ship, then if all went well the LEP could pluck him out of the sky and whisk him away to safety. He would certainly rather be in the jail cell of the LEP than a captive of Opal Koboi. Of course if things didn't go well he might just be plunging himself to his death, but he would just have to trust Holly.
Artemis began to edge forward, as quietly as he could, in the direction of the hatch.
One of the two pilots suddenly gave a shout, leaping to his feet. Artemis was sure he had been discovered, but then the pilot spun in the direction of the side entry door, opposite from the exit hatch. The door had slid open, and the pilot reached for a weapon at his belt—before he jerked, collapsing in a heap to the floor. The second pilot had time to draw his weapon, aiming at the door, but he didn't have a chance to get so much as a shot off before he, too, slumped over the controls, a wisp of smoke rising from his exposed neck.
"Artemis?"
Artemis froze. Then, slowly, he turned his eyes toward the entry door, in time to see a diminutive figure step through it. Dressed as always in an official LEP-issue jumpsuit with wings strapped to the back, and Neutrino in hand.
"Artemis?" Holly called again. She stepped cautiously into the room, Neutrino still pointed out ahead of her. Her eyes flickered everywhere, searching out possible enemies, before at last settling on the nearest control display. Perhaps wondering if she might find a bank of security cameras, which she could use to locate him.
"Holly," Artemis sighed, almost shaking with relief. He took a step forward, then another, and before he knew it he was almost running.
Holly was here. They were going to make it. When they were together, nothing could stand in their way. "Holly, I'm here. I'm right—"
Artemis was almost to her, but she had still not turned around. Which, in retrospect, had he been thinking clearly, should have tipped him off.
His head struck something—hard and cold as the walls and floor around him. His own momentum threw him backward, and he felt his back strike the floor once, then twice. For a moment he lay there on the ground, winded, a blinding pain pounding above his eye, the world swimming.
At last with a final groan, Artemis forced himself to sit up.
Holly had not reacted to his voice. She was approaching the controls now, gun still drawn.
Artemis shifted to his knees, and slowly he dragged himself forward. He reached forward with one hand slowly, carefully, until the tips of his fingers pressed against the invisible surface. It was smooth like glass, and when he drew his hand away, he could just discern slight smudges where the damp sweat of his skin had left imprints.
It appeared to be a one-way mirror of some kind, or something similar. Artemis could see the command center, but Holly clearly could not see him.
Enjoy the performance.
Cold crept over his skin, and sunk down into the depths of his bones. Artemis pressed his entire palm to the invisible wall once again, and even though it was cold as ice, he did not draw away. Holly was less than two meters away from him, close enough that if she had been facing his direction he would have been able to see her mismatched eyes clearly, no doubt set with strength and determination.
Images flashed through his mind. Hybras. Opal, standing before him, blocking his way as though a mirror of himself. Holly, lying perfectly still in the ashes.
He knew what Opal's intended revenge was. Maybe he had always known.
Holly stopped, just before she reached the terminal, her eyes sweeping over the place again with suspicion. She wore no helmet—of course, she had been wearing none when she had come to see him in his study. And so he had a clear view of the side of her face as she called, with usual LEP bravado, "You might as well surrender, goblin."
Her voice rang out as clear as if Artemis was hearing it himself, even though he knew now it must be coming through the speakers lining the top of the room at back. The sound quality was perfect, as could be expected from Koboi design, he supposed.
Holly took a step closer to the terminal, but without looking at it. Instead, she kept her eyes mostly on the entry door, though her eyes also quickly scanned the stations nearby, seeking out any possible hiding places. "You'll have to come back here eventually," she continued. "This ship isn't going anywhere until you do."
Go! Artemis wanted to shout. Get away, Holly, save yourself.
Holly could have tried one of the controls, and searched for Artemis and the rogue goblin using ship security cameras. But she must have known there would be no guarantee she could get in, cut off from Foaly's help, and the goblin was still an uncontained element that could take advantage of even a moment of distraction. Perhaps she thought if she caught the goblin, she might be able to force him to grant her access to the computers, or simply tell her where Artemis was being held.
Holly's tactics were sound, as expected of an LEP officer. But Opal knew all the practiced procedures of the LEP as well as any fairy, and Artemis felt his heart thundering in his ears. He had to do something. There had to be something he could do—before the scene could play out as Opal had written it.
Holly backed up a step, eyes still on the entryway. Her gaze darted back to the two unconscious pilots, then to the readouts on the nearest computer. She minutely adjusted the aim of her pistol, still trained on the entrance. Sweat beaded on her brow.
She slowly reached back with one hand, as though to at least touch the console of the nearest station.
Suddenly there was a rustle of movement in the entrance, and Holly instantly ducked behind one of the control chairs for cover, both hands once again steady on her pistol.
"Don't move," Holly ordered. "Or it's a charge between the eyes."
"Holly?" said a voice from the door, hesitantly. "Is that you?"
The barrel of the Neutrino dropped a fraction. "Artemis?"
The figure in the entryway took one tentative step into the room. Slim, with sickly pale skin and dark hair combed back from a wide forehead, the new arrival wore a formal two-piece suit, though thoroughly rumpled and coated in a fine layer of plaster dust and debris.
Artemis could only stare. Not a machine. Not plastic surgery. It was far too perfect for that—a clone then, that Opal must be controlling. But, Holly would surely realize the truth. Opal could perhaps give a passing imitation of him, but nothing that would hold up to any inspection. Before, with Mother, she had been able to use the disease of Spelltropy as a cover for any strangeness or unfamiliar mannerisms. This time, surely—
Artemis's eyes flickered briefly to his own hand, still pressed against the barrier. He took note of his fingers—five of them. And he knew—Opal did have the perfect cover. Of course she did.
Holly stepped forward cautiously, eyes wary. "Artemis," she said. "What's going on? How did you get away from the goblin?"
The boy who looked exactly like Artemis took a shaky breath, and reached up to tap his breast pocket, as though it was all he could do to keep it together.
"He… was taking me down a back passage, but he collapsed. His injury must have been too great."
Holly nodded. "Good," she sighed. "At last, a break." She hesitated, eying Artemis, with speculation mingled with concern. At last she said, "We could stay here, try to disable the ship. This thing looks as dangerous as an Amazon stalker troll, twice as silent and three times as deadly. Do you think you could break into the system? I can cover you in case the goblin comes back."
The false Artemis hesitated, eyes flickering briefly toward the command console, then away. "Possibly," he allowed. "But from what I've seen of the design so far, these systems appear different from anything I've ever seen before." He added as an afterthought, the words slightly halting, "If I—look at the numbers in sets of five. That may—give us the luck we need. To win."
Holly stared back at him for a long moment. Then she stepped forward, taking one of his hands in hers. "Actually, Arty, nevermind about that. I think we should just try to get out of here. Now. We can worry about what Opal's planning later."
The false Artemis's eyes flickered to meet Holly's, and for a moment, they seemed to burn with fear and desperation, and Artemis wondered if he really looked like that, when in the grips of Atlantis madness.
The fake's voice dropped, and he whispered in a rush, "Opal—I think she's here. She's going to frame me. She's going to try to turn you all against me."
"Not very original, is she?" Holly said, in a soothing tone. Her eyes darted quickly toward the unsecured entry again, then back to his. "Okay," she said, "my wings are shot after that fight with the goblin last night. But I think if we can just get outside this ship, I can contact Foaly. He'll send someone for us. I just need you to trust me. Okay, Artemis?"
He seemed to swallow, then nodded once.
Artemis could only watch the scene, trying to make sense of it, but unable to. He had expected Opal to use the Complex as a smokescreen, which she was—yet her imitation of the precise nature of the symptoms, from the paranoia to speaking sentences in multiples of five, seemed uncanny. But then, that must all be documented somewhere in the J. Argon files.
Opal's performance was perfect thus far, and while she was liable to make a mistake if it went on too long, it was beginning to look like it would last as long as it needed.
Holly, her hand still gripping his, turned her back on him, eyes on the manual lever of the exit hatch. She took a step forward, leading him forward.
All emotion disappeared from the false Artemis's expression. He reached slowly into his suit jacket, and when his hand reemerged, in his grip was a gleaming black handgun.
Artemis's stomach plunged. He could only watch as the duplicate's thumb slid the power setting up as far as it would go, until the laser light on the front glowed a deadly red. Carefully the imposter pointed it right between Holly's exposed shoulder blades—point-blank range. Not even the sparking wingpack strapped to her back would serve as any shield.
Artemis climbed to his feet. He was shaking like a leaf. "Oh please," he whispered. "Please."
However, the duplicate paused. "Holly?" he said.
"Yeah?" Holly answered. She didn't turn, her eyes still focused on the manual release lever.
The duplicate smiled slightly, eyes strangely soft. "You came for me. Thank you."
A dim memory sparked in Artemis's mind. The words were familiar—not spoken by him, but by Holly. Back when he had rescued her from the Extinctionists' compound. The imposter spoke the words with a touch of irony, as though fully aware of where they came from. If Opal was indeed able to read his mind now, possessed memories of his that she was now able to sift through at her leisure—how deep did it go? Was there anything left that she could not use against them?
Artemis willed Holly to turn, to see the gun at her back, even though he knew it was useless—Opal would shoot immediately as soon as Holly might sense something. The longer Holly faced away, fully trusting him, the longer Opal would draw this out.
Holly's eyes remained on the lever, but Artemis saw a flicker in her focused expression. A warming in her eyes, a twitch of a smile at the corner of her mouth.
"Of course I came," she said. "I told you we weren't going to let you fight this one alone, didn't I?"
"Yes," said the duplicate quietly. "You've done so much for me, Holly. Thank you for saving me so many times. Thank you, and… I'm sorry."
Holly paused, frowning slightly. Perhaps she noticed something off in his tone, because she stopped walking, for just a moment. Her head started to turn.
"Please," Artemis said again, and it was almost a sob.
The teenage boy who looked exactly like him paused. And, for just an instant, his eyes flickered toward Artemis, where Artemis stood invisible behind the one-way viewing partition.
The thin lips twisted up in the smallest of smiles, a smile that was as cold as his eyes—eyes that, for the first time, Artemis saw were two different colors.
Then he fired.
A beam of deadly red light exploded out of the end of the black gun.
However, at the precise moment his fingers closed around the trigger, inconceivably, the ship rocked slightly, as though struck with a blast from a minor explosive. The movement was so slight it would not have been enough to throw off a real veteran with firearms at this range, but apparently Opal controlling an Artemis clone was as ill-adept as the real one because the shot went wild.
Artemis's heart had stopped a moment before, but now it began again at record speed. What was that? The LEP? Butler?
Whoever it was, they saved Holly's life, as at the buzz of laser fire, she spun, immediately alerted. The duplicate fired the gun again, but this time Holly ducked. Almost as though she had been expecting the attack all along, she swung her leg around, knocking the duplicate's legs out from under him. He landed hard on his back and in a second Holly was on him. She pried the gun from his grasp and tossed it aside, pinning him to the floor.
Artemis let out a breath of relief.
Too soon. There was a shout in the corridor, and a moment later the goblin appeared in the entry door.
"Master," he said urgently in his rasping voice. "When the ship stopped moving, the LEP must have somehow triangulated our location, and they have begun—" He stopped as he took in the scene before him.
Holly had let go of her gun in order to subdue her attacker, and now she made a grab for it, but she was too late.
In a blur of motion, the goblin hurled himself across the command center, long tail whipping behind him. He slammed into Holly full force, knocking her off Artemis and throwing her to the floor. She reached out, scrambling for her gun, but the goblin held her fast.
"No!" Artemis shouted, slamming the glass hard with a balled fist.
Meanwhile, the false Artemis climbed to his feet.
"Restrain her," he ordered, as he stepped forward to retrieve his weapon.
The goblin did as commanded, seizing Holly's arm and wrenching it behind her back. She tried to fight him off, but he was too large, and she couldn't get the leverage. The wound in his flank was gone, already healed.
"Hold her up," said the other Artemis, taking the black gun and turning to face them.
The goblin forced Holly to her feet, holding back her arms. She struggled and tried to kick, but the goblin lifted her an inch off the floor, giving her nothing with which to anchor herself, and she couldn't land any meaningful blows.
The boy who looked like Artemis deftly flicked one of the settings on the side of the gun, and there was a click, as though there were a bullet being slotted into place. The duplicate raised his eyes to Holly, and leveled the gun directly at Holly's chest. The goblin, just behind her, didn't even flinch.
Holly stopped struggling for a moment. She stared at Artemis, looking right into his eyes. "Artemis," she said. "Fight it. Fight her."
The false Artemis's expression softened slightly. "I'm so sorry, Holly."
Then his finger curled around the trigger, and in a deafening blast of noise Artemis had never heard from a Neutrino, the end exploded.
Holly was slammed back against the goblin's thick chest, and the goblin's back hit the invisible barrier hard, making him grunt.
For a moment Holly's eyes were wide, nothing in her expression but dull shock. Then her eyes rolled back and she slumped, her body going limp in the goblin's grip. The creature stumbled back, and she slid to the floor, falling on her side facing the invisible barrier.
The duplicate Artemis's hands shook. He stared down at the gun. "I did it," he whispered. "I… I did it. It seems I… had the guts after all." He drew a handkerchief from his suit pocket and wiped sweat from his brow. He was even paler than usual. He raised his eyes to the goblin, who was leaning against the partition, breathing heavily.
"Savant," he said, in a tone of forced lightness. "You were not injured, I hope? I switched to a physical projectile to avoid over-penetration, and the gun is also designed to compensate for the more unskilled gun hand. So you should have been in no danger—however, perhaps that was not the wisest maneuver on my part. Let us not do that again."
Even as the duplicate spoke, he was still shaking slightly. But he closed his eyes and forced himself to be steady. He replaced the gun in his suit jacket.
The goblin seemed to have recovered from the impact, and he knelt down next to Holly's limp form. "I will make certain she's dead," he said evenly.
At that moment, the ship rocked again, more violently this time, and both the goblin and the other Artemis stumbled off-balance.
"No time for that," he said brusquely. "We must move the ship. Put the shields and cloaks back up, and keep away from LEP weapons fire, otherwise they may shoot us down before the timefield dissolves. We can worry about disposing of Captain Short later."
The goblin gave a sharp nod. "Yes, sir." The creature turned and loped over to the ship's controls, where the two pilots Holly had knocked out still lay unconscious.
Artemis sank to his knees, staring at Holly's still form lying only a few feet away from him. The bright crimson hole in the chest of her suit stood out starkly in the bright command center light. Blood pooled on the hard metal floor next to her, spreading outward like the petals of a flower.
Artemis pressed his forehead against the glass. He felt cold, his shoulders shook. "Holly," he whispered, and his voice broke as he repeated, "Holly."
But as he stared at her face, for a split second he thought he saw movement. A flicker of muscle inside a closed eyelid. Was it possible...?
The false Artemis remained behind a moment longer. He knelt down, gazing at Holly's inert form, before he reached out, and gently took her hand.
"I am so sorry, my friend," he whispered. "Truly. But you would have stopped me. You would have been my weakness, and I could not have that. But I will never forget everything you did for me."
When he pulled his hand away, Artemis saw something gold gleaming in her fingers.
"I don't expect you to ever forgive me," he said quietly. "I'm so sorry, Holly. I'm sorry I didn't live up to your expectations."
The other Artemis rose and followed the goblin to the ship's controls at the front of the command center. He strapped himself in just as the ship was rocked again. Artemis felt the tug of acceleration as they began to move, the goblin in the primary pilot's seat.
Holly's eyes opened. Her gaze flickered down to her hand, and she raised it as high as she could. She stared in disbelief at the small gold coin with the hole through the center.
Artemis automatically reached for his own pocket, but remembered that creature out there had taken his suit. Of course he had gotten the coin, too.
Holly stared at the coin for a moment longer. Then her unevenly colored irises seemed to blacken, and her lips drew back from her teeth in a look of such hatred that Artemis nearly shrank back.
Holly's mouth silently formed one word. Opal.
Artemis stared down at her. A tear stung his eye. The lie was so convincing—more convincing than he ever could have imagined. Yet somehow, Holly still believed in him anyway. It was far more than he deserved.
Yet he could feel his chest constricting all the more. Please, he thought. Don't let her die. Please don't let her die here.
A single thought suddenly cut through the haze of terror. For Opal's revenge to succeed, she would need everyone to know Artemis was a traitor. And for that, she would need someone to tell them. Holly had survived the creature's attack—clearly an oversight that was no oversight.
Hope sparked again in his chest. If Holly lived, he would take whatever came after. If Holly could make it out of this place alive, that was what mattered.
"Are we still in range of LEP artillery?" asked the imposter.
"It does not appear so, master," replied the goblin. "Most of the offensive measures the LEP brought appear to be ground-based, meant for invasion of the manor. They have only two shuttles, and while they are both equipped with weapons, neither match our own."
"Very good," said the false Artemis. "Fire a few warning shots to demonstrate our firepower, then move us around to the back of the manor. From there, all we have to do is wait for the time spell to dissolve. It should not be much longer—I very much doubt they would have set up a very long stop, for such a situation."
"Yes, sir," said the goblin. "Though I am sure once the spell is gone, the LEP will have a squadron to attempt to subdue us."
"Yes," said the imposter. "However, I have a feeling they will be reluctant to fire on us with much enthusiasm—thanks to our extra passenger."
The goblin grunted slightly, though didn't glance back in Holly's direction, eyes focused on the windscreen ahead. "But they will know she is dead," he pointed out evenly.
The other Artemis shook his head. "Under normal circumstances, yes. Her jumpsuit constantly sends out a signal that tells Foaly the current state of her vital functions. However, those signals cannot penetrate the hull of his craft, composed as it is of stealth ore. Foaly will not know what happened to her until she leaves this craft bodily."
The goblin was silent for a long moment. "I see," he said at last, slowly.
The duplicate breathed deeply, then let it out again. "Yes, my friend. Yes… so now all there is for us to do is wait. Once the time-field is gone, I will be counting on you to outmaneuver and outrun those other ships. But given our advantages, I don't think that should pose a problem for us."
"Yes, master."
The goblin gazed at the controls, eyes moving over the system settings, tapping a command here and there.
Artemis's gaze returned to Holly, where she still lay on the floor, in the spreading pool of her own blood. Her normally coffee colored skin was pale as ash, and rivulets of sweat poured down her face, dripping onto the metal. Each labored breath seemed to cost her, as she struggled to keep silent.
She was suddenly wracked with spasming coughs, and she pressed a hand tightly to her mouth to stifle them. When the fit ended, she slumped, letting her glove, now spattered in blood, fall back to the floor. However, she didn't look at it, eyes instead darting up to the controls. But, neither of the pilots had turned. The hum of the ship's engines apparently masked the sound, and the elevated command chair in the center of the room partially blocked her from view.
Holly placed her hand, the hand with the coin, to her chest, trying to staunch the bleeding. She closed her eyes.
Artemis tried to recall every detail of his medical studies on gunshot wounds. Clearly the bullet had not struck her heart, or she would already be dead. It had also seemingly missed her spine, as she still seemed to have control over her lower body, even if she was in too much pain to move much. However, the bullet had likely punctured a lung. Her breathing was ragged, and she was once again seized with another coughing attack, which she desperately tried to muffle. Blood droplets fell on the floor beside her, and a red mist briefly hung in the air around her mouth.
Artemis gripped a hand to his own chest, wanting desperately to look away, sick to his stomach, but forced himself to keep watching, keep analyzing. As bad as it looked, Holly still had two lungs, and even if one of the lungs fully collapsed, it would probably take her hours to die. A shot in the chest wasn't a particularly fail-safe way to kill, not if the goal was instant death.
Holly gritted her teeth, and kept her hand pressed tightly to the wound. She suppressed another cough. Likely there was blood in her lung, and until it was drained, her body would keep trying to expel it. Fortunately she had fallen laying on her side, the side with the wound, and that ought to make it easier for her good lung to provide the oxygen she needed. Perhaps Holly knew that from her field training, because she had not tried to roll onto her back, though that might have slowed the bleeding. Blood soaked the side of her jumpsuit—she may already be in the first stage of hypovolemic shock.
Artemis's knuckles were white as he pressed his clenched fist against the glass. He could not bear it. She was a meter away from him, and he could do nothing to help her.
Holly opened her eyes, and turned her gaze upon the front of the command center. Then her gaze shifted. Her Neutrino was still on the floor where it had fallen. About two meters away.
She isn't, Artemis thought, incredulous.
Holly's eyes flickered back to the front of the ship. Then, slowly, painfully, she stretched out the arm that she wasn't holding over the wound and used it to pull herself a centimeter across the floor. She quickly brought the hand back up to stifle another bout of coughing.
Don't, he thought desperately. Don't. She'll let you go. You'll survive, but not if you kill yourself.
But that was Holly. She was the kind of officer who never gave in. It was hardwired into her nature.
Her jaw clenched, her dark skin white with pain and effort, as she shifted herself another centimeter toward the weapon. She rested a moment, then moved another centimeter. However, she froze as one of the voices at the front suddenly spoke.
"Well, Savant," said the false Artemis Fowl with a sigh. "It seems I have made the break. Up until now, I have always had the option to put an end to these plans, to let things go on as they always have. But now there is no going back. I will not allow the sacrifice of my friend to be in vain."
The goblin was silent.
"When I first met Holly, I took her captive to extort gold from the People," he continued, with the air of an old soldier reminiscing of the past. "But of course you know that. There are few who don't know the story, I suppose."
The duplicate shook his head slowly. "Fewer know that my plans likely would have failed, had she not taken pity on us. When the Council sent in a troll to force our hand, the creature almost killed Butler. Holly stepped in to heal him, and it was only thanks to that that Butler was able to combat the creature as he did afterward—I'm sure you've seen the tapes. I think that is part of the reason the Council was inclined to hold her partially responsible for the loss of gold. After what I did, she stepped in and saved the life of her enemy.
"Over the years that I knew her, she continued to show me that kindness I did not deserve, risked her life for mine, forgave me at times no one else would have. And slowly, little by little, she helped to change me. She demonstrated for me what it meant to care about others rather than only myself. I have always respected her, admired her, even back when we were still enemies."
The goblin stared straight ahead at the front viewing window. "Now she is dead," he said evenly.
The other Artemis smiled slightly, but his eyes seemed sad. "Yes. Now I have killed her. The one person whose opinion I valued the most."
"Was it necessary?" said the goblin.
The false Artemis stared out the front windshield, and Artemis could imagine the distance in his mismatched eyes. "It is true," he said at last. "We could have knocked her out here, then sent her back to the LEP, or held her prisoner. However, this was a test—a test I had to see if I could pass. I have decided, Savant, that I will change the world, save it from the coming age of strife and misery. But to do that I knew I must be willing to do the unspeakable. I knew I must be willing to make great sacrifices. Now I have made one of the greatest sacrifices of all—so now I know. I am ready to proceed."
The duplicate glanced toward the goblin. "But I am surprised," he said, with a hint of a smile. "That revulsion in your voice—you sound almost as disgusted with me as I am with myself. Yet all this time, I was under the impression you reviled Captain Short. She obtained everything you strove for but were denied."
The goblin continued to stare straight ahead, watching the readings on the panel in front of them carefully. "I do not like elves," he admitted. "Especially LEP elves. But she did her duty, and she boarded this ship with the intention of saving you, whatever the risk to herself."
"That is true," said the imposter.
They were silent for a long moment, and Holly paused in her efforts. Then the goblin said, "She is gone. So now I will be your Captain Short."
The duplicate glanced at him, surprised.
The goblin flicked another command into the controls, and clarified, "Captain Short protected you, and helped you carry out your plans. Now I will take her place."
"You still wish to serve my goals?" said the duplicate. "Even after what I have done?"
The goblin nodded slowly. "I answer to you and only you, master."
The imposter smiled slightly. "You are certainly a strange one, Savant. You reaffirm your allegiance when it is I who owes you an apology."
The goblin didn't answer, and the other Artemis Fowl continued, "I made the mistake of ordering you here to carry out my objective, and because of that, you were captured. I hoped to deflect suspicion from myself by having you attack my own home, and I also hoped to eliminate two of my former allies who could potentially be a great danger to my plans. I didn't anticipate Holly... I didn't anticipate Captain Short would be there. I thought for certain the LEP would keep her away."
"I'm sorry, master," said the goblin in a low voice. "Had I subdued her rather than be captured by her, the LEP would not have read my eyes and found out the truth. I betrayed your secret."
The other Artemis shook his head. "No, my friend. Captain Short is known as one of the most skilled operatives of her division for a reason. I would not have expected you to win out against her, especially in light of the fact that she has considerably more field experience than you do. And in any case, it was inevitable the LEP find out the truth eventually—it may as well be now. Though I admit I was impressed by your little act at the end."
The goblin bowed his head, though Artemis thought the creature seemed just a little pleased.
Again the imposter gazed out the front windshield, silent, contemplating. "Well," he said with a sigh. "It is done. My old life is at an end. I am a fugitive, and I may never now return home again."
He paused, then continued, "However, my closest allies will still not as of yet be aware of what I have done, not right away. For months I have been encouraging the notion that Opal Koboi may be coming after me and attempt to frame me. That is why neither Captain Short nor any of my other friends suspected me for a moment. Opal helped me a great deal in that way, though she was unaware of it. And this ship is in part based off one of her designs, a stealth ore shuttle invisible to any and all fairy scanners. That is why I christened it in her honor. The Black Queen. I thought it especially appropriate, given that this ship is one of my more important playing pieces on the board right now. Though I hope she never discovers it—were she ever to actually escape prison, she would be a great threat to my plans."
The duplicate was silent a moment longer, before he added in a murmur, "But my friends will know the truth soon enough. I will tell them myself—after all they have done for me, they deserve that much at least."
Artemis could only stare through the invisible barrier, a cold numbness seeping through him. It was all so surreal. The things this imposter was saying were so wrong, so out of place. Yet they sounded exactly like him, like he had stepped into another dimension and this creature was actually another version of himself.
This must be a nightmare, he thought. Or a hallucination brought on by the Atlantis Complex. That is the only explanation. Not even Opal could hope to put on this kind of performance.
Holly was still moving. Centimeter by centimeter, she dragged herself forward, toward her gun. Her own blood lubricated the floor, and made it just a bit easier, but even so, her face was white with the strain, and sweat poured down her face. Every minute or so, she had to reach up a hand to stifle another cough. However, he could see in her wide eyes not just the pain of her wound, but horror. Horror and sickness at the words drifting back to her from the front of the command center, which she could not shut out.
Artemis crouched beside the invisible barrier, moving along beside her as she dragged herself painful inch by painful inch. He wondered what she was thinking as she listened to the poisonous words. Did she still believe this was all a game of Opal's? Or, could it be that these lies were starting to take hold, to be too much evidence even for Holly's unbreakable faith?
She was close now. Barely a foot away.
"However," said the imposter. "There is one thing I must make clear. For a time, the Atlantis Complex filled me with guilt and regret over things I have done. And now, I am sorry to have had to harm my former allies, whether physically or otherwise."
Six inches.
"I am sorry that necessity dictated such cruelty on my part, and most of all, I am sorry that Holly, my dear friend, is dead."
Two inches.
"But I do not regret anything I have done. I do not regret anymore."
Holly's fingers at last closed around the handle. With a great effort, she rolled herself onto her back. Instantly her breathing was even more ragged than before, and her face was contorted with the struggle to keep breathing. She closed her eyes, gun clutched to her stomach, the other hand with the coin still pressed against the wound.
Holly's eyes opened, and she shook her head as if trying to fight off a wave of vertigo. By now she was likely close to blacking out. She might be even too disoriented and dizzy to aim the gun.
However, Holly shook her head again, more vigorously this time, then forced her upper body to rotate, so she was facing away from Artemis, toward the front of the ship. She lifted the gun and set the bottom of the handle on the floor to help steady herself, though the tip of the barrel still quivered as she carefully took aim.
Holly's good lung was now against the floor, and her breathing became even worse. Artemis had moved sideways, just far enough he could make out her face. Dried blood stained her skin around her mouth, and she squinted as though trying to focus through blurred vision.
"Ah," said the imposter. "It seems the time-field is breaking up. Be ready, my friend. We will have to dodge around an LEP battalion, no doubt."
"Yes," the goblin answered, "mast—"
And that was when Holly fired.
The beam of light from the Neutrino hit the ceiling, far off target. However, it deflected off, and hit the floor directly between the two pilots.
The goblin spun in his seat, alarmed. "You!" he snarled, and started to stand, but the imposter seized him by the arm.
"No! We must escape the time field as it is disintegrating. Otherwise we will be hemmed in. Forget her, I will take care of it. Clearly I was careless."
Savant gave a sharp nod and instantly turned back to the controls.
The imposter drew his black gun and stuck his head out from behind his pilot's chair.
Holly fired again, closer this time, and the imposter flinched back.
The other Artemis flicked a switch on the gun, then fired, sending a cracking red laser beam back toward Holly. However, his aim was atrocious, and burned a line in the floor meters from where Holly lay.
Half dead and hardly able to see, Holly's aim wasn't particularly good, but it was better than his. Opal's aim may really be that bad, or she may simply be further trying to imitate him for Holly's benefit. After all, it wouldn't be Opal's goal to hit Holly, and his poor reflexes made a good excuse.
Holly fired again, then struggled to pull her finger around the trigger a fourth time.
The imposter, still strapped into his seat, swore softly, jerking belatedly back from the last attack, which had singed the air less than a foot from his head. "Savant!" he barked. "Has the field ended yet?"
"Almost, master," answered the goblin. "We are beginning to see the ships waiting outside. There are many of them."
"Fly around to the other side of the manor," the duplicate ordered. "We will go east. Once the time-field has broken up, it will be dawn, and the rising sun will reduce their visibility."
Holly fired again, and this time the strike grazed a section of the controls, leaving a trail of sparks in its wake.
"And one more thing," said the imposter. "As we pass between the LEP's ships, I want you to turn us to ninety degrees."
The goblin hesitated, probably as confused as Artemis. However, he didn't question, and as he circled the ship back around toward the east, he twisted the controls, and the floor began to tilt.
Artemis dropped, spreading himself out to create as much friction as possible. He felt his stomach tighten as the floor tilted to twenty degrees, then fifty, then seventy. He pressed his hands against the cold metal, trying to hold himself in place, but still his fingers slipped against the surface, dragging him sideways. Holly, not having the strength to hold on, was at the mercy of the ship, and she slid with gravity. Artemis's eyes flickered to the far side wall and, seeing the exit hatch, immediately realized the imposter's intent.
"No!" he shouted. "No, her wings don't work. You can't—"
The imposter hit a button on the control panel, and the exit hatch opened. Instantly the cabin was filled with a violent, sucking wind, and Artemis could hear the howling roar even though he couldn't feel it, and watched it billow the hair and clothes of everyone in the command center. The two untethered unconscious pilots slid a little along the floor, but fortunately for them, they weren't in line with the exit hatch. Holly gasped at the cold of the wind, and tried to grab something to hold onto, but her hands only scrabbled in the pools of her own blood.
Artemis, spread-eagled on the floor, stretched out a hand. Though it was useless, he pressed his fingers to the barrier, as though he could somehow reach her through it. "Holly," he shouted. "Holly!"
The time spell was completely gone now, and they were nearly upon the LEP shuttles. The stealth ore ship was now at nearly ninety degrees, and Holly's form seemed to lift slightly off the floor, her slide turning into a freefall. She still had a hand clutched to her wound, the other holding the gun, but her eyes seemed to have misted over, her mouth slightly parted.
"No," Artemis shouted, "No!"
Then she was gone. Through the exit hatch, down into the early morning mist below.
The goblin turned the controls back and the ship righted itself, and Artemis and the two unconscious pilots settled back onto the floor. The imposter pressed a button and the exit hatch closed, and everyone's hair and clothing settled back into place.
Artemis stared at the hatch, unable to believe it. She was gone. Just like that.
The ship continued forward, and for a few seconds the command center was silent. Then at last the goblin, tone slightly shocked, said, "She has escaped now, master. If she survives, she will go back and tell the others what she has heard."
The imposter paused, eyes still focused back on the hatch. The frown of determination slowly eased, and Artemis saw the thin lips curl slightly into a smile. "Indeed she will," he said softly. "All according to plan."
The goblin said nothing, though his confusion was plain.
"Now," said the duplicate brusquely, "engage main thrusters. Let us show these ships how fast this craft can move."
The goblin hit a few switches on the console. Then, with a roar, the ship took off, shooting toward the rising sun.
Artemis slumped back against the side wall. He closed his eyes. You can do it, Holly. Survive. Survive just one more time, and when I find you again, we will stop this madness together.
That was what he told himself, even as the familiar number took up its usual chant in his head, and after all the strain, his vision at last darkened, as he slipped into unconsciousness.
A/N: Whew, important chapter this time, many things are beginning to come together.
So, lots of new AF stuff has come out since the last update, and even though you probably don't want my many opinions, I'm going to give them to you anyway.
Artemis Fowl movie: Unlike 99.9% of Fowl fans in the world, I did actually enjoy this film. I liked seeing Haven fully realized in live action and some of the reimagined elements I really thought had great potential, like adding focus to Holly's relationship with her father, and making Opal's villainy more about a vendetta against the human race so as to explore that theme of the books through her. The movie fails as an adaptation in my opinion, not because of being so incredibly different from the book, but because it fails to capture the essence of what the selling point of the original books were, in the main character being the villain. I didn't necessarily mind the idea of Artemis being more normal and becoming a villain within the film itself with more sympathetic motivations, but Artemis just wasn't portrayed as a villain at all, in any measure.
But again, I enjoyed the movie and seeing a live action take on something that vaguely resembled Artemis Fowl, and it did inspire me to work more on this project at the time, even if I wasn't able to get anything ready to post then.
The Fowl Twins (Books 2 and 3): From what I've read in terms of reviews, there's been a mixed response, some people love them, others not so much. My impression is that they're aimed at a younger audience from the original series, pushing the humor and whimsy to the max while toning down the sense of danger so they're not quite as dark. My favorite moments of the Fowl series were mostly the more serious ones rather than the whimsical humor, so in the end I may not have quite been the intended audience, but they were hilarious anyway and it was still absolutely amazing to get more stories in this world, and getting to see how the world had changed and where the characters are now.
Okay, this is devolving into a ramble now, and to anyone who hasn't read Book 3, The Fowl Twins Get What They Deserve, skip this if you don't want spoilers, but—wow. Minerva. I was happy when I heard she was going to be in one of the books, and while I was expecting it to be weird since weird is The Fowl Twins' MO, it was levels beyond what I expected. I'm still torn between whether I'm weirded out or lowkey delighted. Also we had confirmation that Artemis and Minerva had an actual relationship for a while, which I was not expecting, and loved the line from Minerva about realizing Artemis's 'real soul mate' and Lazuli responding based on her experience with Myles, 'Himself?' (I don't know about the rest of you, but I definitely took Minerva not actually answering to confirm this as Eoin Colfer being like, '"Himself" is the right answer, but I'm wording it like this so you Hartemis fans can read into it however you like.' Which, I can't say I'm upset by.) Oh, also, short story in space—loved it, so sad it's so hard to come by officially.
Okay, rambling over. (This was very short for three years of content, and with all my Artemis Fowl feelings I forgot coming back with a vengeance.)
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Overall project update/what to expect: Unfortunately I still don't have the work in place to get back to a more predictable update schedule again. Enough time has passed since I planned future content that I have a more objective view on some things that I don't think will work, and I'm not sure how much I want to try to fix with small adjustments, and how much I want to ditch entirely and rebuild from the ground up. But, I have made more progress recently than I have in years, and do hope to keep moving forward little by little. We'll see how it goes.
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Content Advisory for the chapter: This chapter contains fairly drawn out and detailed descriptions of the effects of a gunshot wound, resulting from a character being shot. If you have not read the chapter yet, proceed with caution.
Posted 9/23/22