Unstoppable
Chapter 1: The Past
Extract From the Diary of Artemis Fowl, Encrypted Disk One:
My parents have once again left for a two-week holiday, after winning a competition that I rigged. This gives me time to perfect my latest project, the virus Sobig Mark II, and fully reap the rewards.
My father giving up crime is becoming more and more of a hindrance. I can no longer keep my profit in the family account, and so the Fowls as a family no longer benefit from my work. I am lucky that neither of my parents can bear staying in the U.K. for long.
Butler and I are still exploring into the contact lenses we found a year ago. Butler traced them back to the manufacturers and asked what make they were, only to be told that they were custom made to his specifications. This, and other things, led me to believe that both Butler and I have had our minds tampered with, and had memories removed. For a year I have studied in psychology and, disgusted as I am to admit it, hypnotism, to create a way to regain my memory. I know that I am nearly there now.
Artemis Fowl's PC beeped, and deleted all his writing in order to show him an e-mail it had just received. Even supercomputers suffer from the same basic faults. When he'd finished his silicon study course then he'd create his own computer. Bug free. Just to show it could be done.
Artemis opened the e-mail and read. Then he rang for Butler.
"Sir?"
"What do you make of this?" Butler obediently read the message.
Artemis,
Got a present for you. Meet at your place on Friday 6th.
An erstwhile acquaintance.
"Shall I track it?"
"I already have," snapped Artemis impatiently. "What do you think of the message?"
"If it's a trap, it's done very clumsily."
"Indeed. Whoever it is must be quite inept. But I'm not sure. Bring me a list of all our old contacts. In the meantime, it is the third. That gives me three days to arrange for my parents absence. I need space to continue this investigation. How goes your research?"
The bodyguard shook his head slowly. "Our names are showing up in unexpected places. People remember us from situations we weren't in." Butler pulled out his mobile phone and brought up a list of names, hoping his employer would make more of it than he could.
Artemis skimmed down the tiny screen. The names included several people from the Russian Mafia, and other shady organisations such as Spiro Industries. The boy felt a twinge reading the name 'Spiro'. He was an American businessman who was arrested two years ago- Artemis had never met him but had always disliked the name.
"Most of these men are considered insane, and nearly all of them are in prison." he stated. Butler nodded. "Whoever is behind this has, or is still using us to commit all sorts of crimes," the boy continued, more to himself than to Butler. "This is serious. We don't know who we're dealing with. Check to see if any of those names have common enemies. In the meantime, I will resume my experiments." Artemis received the entire idea of hypnotism and all that came with it with scorn, but he was forced to admit that on this occasion it might yield some answers. He had to swallow his pride. He didn't know how much depended on it yet.
Artemis headed down to one of the rooms he or the Butlers sometimes used for meditation. Self-hypnosis was his best chance to improve his recall, he'd concluded after a long discussion with several leading psychologists online. He folded himself cross-legged on the floor and tried to clear his mind.
His concentration clattered away as he heard his parents pass outside the door. He'd let them believe this was a new hobby of his, which they eagerly hoped would replace his urgent need for cash. They still did not trust him after discovering that incident with Exxon. They'd tried to 'ground' him for that; like he'd been a normal teenager. Artemis snorted in quiet contempt.
All the same, he hadn't pulled off any schemes at all, bar that one, for two years. His parents had been far too vigilant and he'd been taken up with investigating the mysterious contact lenses. He missed the comfortable feeling of knowing he had enough gold to feed several third-world countries. What was the point of being an evil genius without gold? He'd briefly considered world domination, and written it off as too melodramatic.
He sighed, concentrated and pushed everything from his mind, giving his lost memories space to surface. They didn't come, but it was only a matter of time.
Chapter 1: The Past
Extract From the Diary of Artemis Fowl, Encrypted Disk One:
My parents have once again left for a two-week holiday, after winning a competition that I rigged. This gives me time to perfect my latest project, the virus Sobig Mark II, and fully reap the rewards.
My father giving up crime is becoming more and more of a hindrance. I can no longer keep my profit in the family account, and so the Fowls as a family no longer benefit from my work. I am lucky that neither of my parents can bear staying in the U.K. for long.
Butler and I are still exploring into the contact lenses we found a year ago. Butler traced them back to the manufacturers and asked what make they were, only to be told that they were custom made to his specifications. This, and other things, led me to believe that both Butler and I have had our minds tampered with, and had memories removed. For a year I have studied in psychology and, disgusted as I am to admit it, hypnotism, to create a way to regain my memory. I know that I am nearly there now.
Artemis Fowl's PC beeped, and deleted all his writing in order to show him an e-mail it had just received. Even supercomputers suffer from the same basic faults. When he'd finished his silicon study course then he'd create his own computer. Bug free. Just to show it could be done.
Artemis opened the e-mail and read. Then he rang for Butler.
"Sir?"
"What do you make of this?" Butler obediently read the message.
Artemis,
Got a present for you. Meet at your place on Friday 6th.
An erstwhile acquaintance.
"Shall I track it?"
"I already have," snapped Artemis impatiently. "What do you think of the message?"
"If it's a trap, it's done very clumsily."
"Indeed. Whoever it is must be quite inept. But I'm not sure. Bring me a list of all our old contacts. In the meantime, it is the third. That gives me three days to arrange for my parents absence. I need space to continue this investigation. How goes your research?"
The bodyguard shook his head slowly. "Our names are showing up in unexpected places. People remember us from situations we weren't in." Butler pulled out his mobile phone and brought up a list of names, hoping his employer would make more of it than he could.
Artemis skimmed down the tiny screen. The names included several people from the Russian Mafia, and other shady organisations such as Spiro Industries. The boy felt a twinge reading the name 'Spiro'. He was an American businessman who was arrested two years ago- Artemis had never met him but had always disliked the name.
"Most of these men are considered insane, and nearly all of them are in prison." he stated. Butler nodded. "Whoever is behind this has, or is still using us to commit all sorts of crimes," the boy continued, more to himself than to Butler. "This is serious. We don't know who we're dealing with. Check to see if any of those names have common enemies. In the meantime, I will resume my experiments." Artemis received the entire idea of hypnotism and all that came with it with scorn, but he was forced to admit that on this occasion it might yield some answers. He had to swallow his pride. He didn't know how much depended on it yet.
Artemis headed down to one of the rooms he or the Butlers sometimes used for meditation. Self-hypnosis was his best chance to improve his recall, he'd concluded after a long discussion with several leading psychologists online. He folded himself cross-legged on the floor and tried to clear his mind.
His concentration clattered away as he heard his parents pass outside the door. He'd let them believe this was a new hobby of his, which they eagerly hoped would replace his urgent need for cash. They still did not trust him after discovering that incident with Exxon. They'd tried to 'ground' him for that; like he'd been a normal teenager. Artemis snorted in quiet contempt.
All the same, he hadn't pulled off any schemes at all, bar that one, for two years. His parents had been far too vigilant and he'd been taken up with investigating the mysterious contact lenses. He missed the comfortable feeling of knowing he had enough gold to feed several third-world countries. What was the point of being an evil genius without gold? He'd briefly considered world domination, and written it off as too melodramatic.
He sighed, concentrated and pushed everything from his mind, giving his lost memories space to surface. They didn't come, but it was only a matter of time.