Chapter Eight
Fowl Manor
Artemis was almost worried. Almost in the sense that actually admitting to being worried would be a devastating blow to his pride. Never in his carrier as a genius and criminal mastermind had he been this close to worrying. Needless to say, the strange outburst of memory had completely ruined the tone of the trip. His consultation with Butler had only unsettled him further, While he did not react violently to lollipops, as Artemis had, he was also certain that the name Holly meant or had previously meant something to him.
Anyway, Eric was also determined not to ruin the delicate balance that sanity had over Artemis. An insane patron would certainly get his amnesty revoked in a hurry. If Artemis reacted badly when offered a lollipop, who was he to say anything, he reasoned. He sat quietly during the car trip back to the manor.
Now that they had arrived, however, he had plans of his own to put into operation. He had no idea that these plans would destabilize the entire Irish nation, anger thousands of fairies, and present him with countless near-death experiences. If he had, he probably would have made his way back to the US and asked to be locked up as fast as possible, just to avoid that.
Unfortunately for himself and others, he didn't.
Eric whistled to himself as he entered the large library where Artemis' computers were. Just in case, he had one of his own sequencing programs with him on a floppy. He would need that, since Artemis did not seem to be the type to use such an obvious password as the NSA supervisor. As soon as he sat down, however, he was faced with a problem. Artemis' computers were not configured to access floppy discs.
This did not worry Eric. Years of experience (and a father who worked for various computer companies) had gotten him past worst. Eric pried open the floppy casing, after carefully sweeping the area for magnetic devices. He then took out a multi-tipped screwdriver and opened the face of one of the CPUs. Within minutes he had excavated the hard drive. This was removed. The magnetic reader was altered to read the floppy, and he carefully placed it in the holding tray. As soon as the drive began whirring, he turned on the monitor. As expected, the browser did not come up. Instead, the code from the program on the disc was displayed. He recorded the contents with one of Artemis' own web cameras, and input it into a different machine. It could then be accessed without the floppy.
Faced with all of this work, the average adult would have given up and tried each combination by hand. Speed, however, was of the essence. As soon as he had finished, Eric removed the disc, hid the remains of the CPU, and left the room. There was no reason to risk being caught trying to do it all at once. That was for amateurs, and if there was one word that could describe all of Eric Champlain's habits, eccentricities, and intelligence, it certainly wasn't amateur.
Artemis was, if at all possible, more unsettled now than he had been before. His father was at home again, and he had remarked that Artemis seemed to have changed in the past week or so. Artemis was certain that he had followed the same routine that he always had. The only possibility was if there were more hidden memories to be uncovered. It chilled him to think that the memories he had of life a few weeks ago might be false. He was determined to find the truth, no matter where it led him.
It was two hours later. After suffering through what Artemis insisted was a steak marinated in Old Vine Zinfandel, but tasted like a burnt log doused with gasoline.
"This chicken's kind of burnt, Artemis," Butler said.
Artemis sighed. "It's steak, Butler."
Butler cleared his throat. "Mpph. Ah. I see." Which was, of course, like all the other times he said it, a lie.
After the meal had passed, Eric passed through the computer room under the pretense of looking up an old school friend. Artemis was not fooled; Eric had not been in school long enough to have 'old' friends. However, if he wanted to make a fool of himself, that was his own business.
As soon as he was sure Artemis had gone upstairs, Eric locked himself in the room. Doubtless Artemis had seen through his flimsy cover story, but the point was to gain access to the room. Eric knew that the last thing Artemis would expect would be to have to fight his own security. The door was six inches of reinforced steel and surrounded by an ironclad doorframe. That unusual feature was what had caught Eric's eye. You don't install something like that on a whim, and only on one room in the house. Something had occurred in this room, and he was determined to find out what.
Eric accessed his sequencer program and started it as soon as the program asked him for a password. His program would use every word in Webster's collegiate dictionary, all words of Celtic, Russian, Swedish, and Romanian origin, the entire script of every Star Trek movie, and all of the Lord of the Rings Books. If that did not work, it would switch to the more powerful but less refined random alphanumerical combination program. However, he did not need to go that far. The program found a hit on Legolas, the elf from the Lord of the Rings. He was surprised; Artemis had seemed like the type to memorize some twenty-character long random password. Well, all the easier for him. He cracked his knuckles and began working.
Fowl Manor
Artemis was almost worried. Almost in the sense that actually admitting to being worried would be a devastating blow to his pride. Never in his carrier as a genius and criminal mastermind had he been this close to worrying. Needless to say, the strange outburst of memory had completely ruined the tone of the trip. His consultation with Butler had only unsettled him further, While he did not react violently to lollipops, as Artemis had, he was also certain that the name Holly meant or had previously meant something to him.
Anyway, Eric was also determined not to ruin the delicate balance that sanity had over Artemis. An insane patron would certainly get his amnesty revoked in a hurry. If Artemis reacted badly when offered a lollipop, who was he to say anything, he reasoned. He sat quietly during the car trip back to the manor.
Now that they had arrived, however, he had plans of his own to put into operation. He had no idea that these plans would destabilize the entire Irish nation, anger thousands of fairies, and present him with countless near-death experiences. If he had, he probably would have made his way back to the US and asked to be locked up as fast as possible, just to avoid that.
Unfortunately for himself and others, he didn't.
Eric whistled to himself as he entered the large library where Artemis' computers were. Just in case, he had one of his own sequencing programs with him on a floppy. He would need that, since Artemis did not seem to be the type to use such an obvious password as the NSA supervisor. As soon as he sat down, however, he was faced with a problem. Artemis' computers were not configured to access floppy discs.
This did not worry Eric. Years of experience (and a father who worked for various computer companies) had gotten him past worst. Eric pried open the floppy casing, after carefully sweeping the area for magnetic devices. He then took out a multi-tipped screwdriver and opened the face of one of the CPUs. Within minutes he had excavated the hard drive. This was removed. The magnetic reader was altered to read the floppy, and he carefully placed it in the holding tray. As soon as the drive began whirring, he turned on the monitor. As expected, the browser did not come up. Instead, the code from the program on the disc was displayed. He recorded the contents with one of Artemis' own web cameras, and input it into a different machine. It could then be accessed without the floppy.
Faced with all of this work, the average adult would have given up and tried each combination by hand. Speed, however, was of the essence. As soon as he had finished, Eric removed the disc, hid the remains of the CPU, and left the room. There was no reason to risk being caught trying to do it all at once. That was for amateurs, and if there was one word that could describe all of Eric Champlain's habits, eccentricities, and intelligence, it certainly wasn't amateur.
Artemis was, if at all possible, more unsettled now than he had been before. His father was at home again, and he had remarked that Artemis seemed to have changed in the past week or so. Artemis was certain that he had followed the same routine that he always had. The only possibility was if there were more hidden memories to be uncovered. It chilled him to think that the memories he had of life a few weeks ago might be false. He was determined to find the truth, no matter where it led him.
It was two hours later. After suffering through what Artemis insisted was a steak marinated in Old Vine Zinfandel, but tasted like a burnt log doused with gasoline.
"This chicken's kind of burnt, Artemis," Butler said.
Artemis sighed. "It's steak, Butler."
Butler cleared his throat. "Mpph. Ah. I see." Which was, of course, like all the other times he said it, a lie.
After the meal had passed, Eric passed through the computer room under the pretense of looking up an old school friend. Artemis was not fooled; Eric had not been in school long enough to have 'old' friends. However, if he wanted to make a fool of himself, that was his own business.
As soon as he was sure Artemis had gone upstairs, Eric locked himself in the room. Doubtless Artemis had seen through his flimsy cover story, but the point was to gain access to the room. Eric knew that the last thing Artemis would expect would be to have to fight his own security. The door was six inches of reinforced steel and surrounded by an ironclad doorframe. That unusual feature was what had caught Eric's eye. You don't install something like that on a whim, and only on one room in the house. Something had occurred in this room, and he was determined to find out what.
Eric accessed his sequencer program and started it as soon as the program asked him for a password. His program would use every word in Webster's collegiate dictionary, all words of Celtic, Russian, Swedish, and Romanian origin, the entire script of every Star Trek movie, and all of the Lord of the Rings Books. If that did not work, it would switch to the more powerful but less refined random alphanumerical combination program. However, he did not need to go that far. The program found a hit on Legolas, the elf from the Lord of the Rings. He was surprised; Artemis had seemed like the type to memorize some twenty-character long random password. Well, all the easier for him. He cracked his knuckles and began working.