Chapter Twelve
Switzerland
Once again, our heroes were jetting off to a new locale. Butler, who had visited Switzerland before for reasons still secret, had decided to come along. So had Juliet. Artemis hardly put up more than a token objection. After all, they were Butlers. There was no changing their minds.
"So why exactly are we going to Switzerland?" Eric asked. This time he had made a point of asking Juliet for a sandwich instead of Artemis. Far better looking and much more edible. (The sandwich, not Juliet.)
"Well," Artemis said, "I mentioned that Butler had conducted an audit of the estate recently. One item caught my mind: a safe-deposit box in a Swiss bank. I called, and they verified that the account existed." He smiled his vampire smile. He really must think of patenting it. "So now, we're going to see what's so important that it needed to be locked away in another country."
After arriving at the bank, though, they immediately hit a roadblock. "Artemis," Juliet said, twisting her hair in the fashion that she had. "You do have the key to this safe deposit box, don't you?"
Artemis' face fell quickly. Only for a moment, however; he recovered quickly. For all of his planning he had slipped up on this one innocuous detail. He patted Eric on the shoulder. "Right here," he replied. "Here's our key."
Butler was not as easily reassured, however. He took Artemis aside as they entered the lobby of the bank.
"Artemis, the Swiss have the best security in the world. How is this child going to beat it?"
Artemis tried to appear unconcerned. "I am a child as well, Butler. And I have beaten far better security than this." He grinned a normal smile, which was somehow even more disturbing than his vampire one. "Trust me."
While Butler and Artemis were having their conference, Eric was scanning the building for weaknesses—and in the process, noticing Butler's younger and attractive sister. He decided a little innocent small talk shouldn't be a problem.
"So, Juliet," he asked. "How long have you been with the Fowls now?"
Juliet looked incredibly bored with the circumstances that had placed her here, talking to a foreign boy at least two years younger than her. But seeing as putting him in a headlock to shut him up would somewhat draw attention in this bank, she decided to answer him.
"About fifteen or so years now. Ever since Artemis was born. Why?"
"Just curious," he shrugged. "If even half the stuff I hear about Artemis is true, it must certainly be an exciting job."
"Exciting's not the word I would use," she replied idly. Her mind was quite obviously elsewhere. "Why just last year, we—" She stopped abruptly, and a perplexed look crept across her face. "I can't remember. It's right on the tip of my tongue."
Well, well, well, Eric mused. The entire Fowl group had been subjected to some sort of brainwashing. Based on what he had gathered, however, the process was too selective. It left gaps, gaps that could be exploited—which was exactly what Eric intended.
Arnaud Chamberlain, the manager of the bank, was not in a good mood that day. His coffee had been inexcusably cold—four degrees below room temperature. His lunch was barely passable, too. The caviar was almost three days old—unacceptable. And now, he, the manager, was expected to cater to some pampered foreigner. The whole situation was intolerable. He stormed past his wispy secretary out to the lobby. Whoever was out there had better have a damn good excuse.
Butler was the first to notice the large man moving towards them. His bulk was almost enough to rival Butler's—but where Butler was solid, highly toned muscle, Chamberlain was fat and flab.
Artemis stepped forward. "I wish to see the contents of my safe," he said in fluent, unaccented Swiss.
Chamberlain was perspiring, and his breathing was heavy from storming to the front desk, but he could tell that this young boy was a customer. He resisted the urge to salute. "Of course, sir. Right away." He paused. "What is the name
"Fowl," Artemis answered. "Artemis Fowl the Second."
Chamberlain's eyes gleamed. "Ah, Master Fowl! Now I recall you." He looked distastefully at Eric, still in his polo shirt and khakis, and Juliet, wearing a tee shirt and low rise jeans. "You were, uh, not accompanied last time." He turned to the entrance to the vaults. "If you would follow me, please?"
They reached an ornate sitting room, with two plush armchairs and a couch in front of a roaring fireplace. A silver-chrome drink bar stood off to the right, next to a notebook PC and, oddly, a machine that looked like an ATM.
After Arnaud left, Artemis turned to Eric. "All right, Eric. I've gotten us in. Now how does this system work, and how do we beat it?"
"All right," Eric said. "See the thing that looks like an ATM? It's a machine that will retrieve the box from the vault when you enter the correct password. Unfortunately, it only allows three tries. So we need to be positive on the password before we enter it."
"I can't remember what I would have used," Artemis said. "After all, it was two years ago, and I don't even remember doing this in the first place."
"Okay," Eric said. "Sit down. I'm going to ask you a series of questions. Relax, try put yourself in the mindset you would have been in when you did this. Ideally, I would have someone hypnotize you, but we don't have that kind of time. Just say whatever comes to mind."
Butler and Juliet watched intently as Eric began the interrogation. Even the widely traveled Butler had never seen anything like this before.
"Name?"
"Artemis Fowl the Second."
"Place?"
"Fowl Manor."
"Room?"
"Library."
"Enemy?"
"Er...Spiro. That's all I know is that name."
Eric made a note on a piece of paper. "That's good. Friend?"
"Domovoi."
The last word triggered a start from Butler. "How did you hear that?" he asked.
"I don't know," Artemis said. "At least, not anymore."
"People?"
"Fairies," he blurted out. He blinked. "It's on the tip of my tongue. It is incredibly frustrating as well."
"I'm going to focus on that topic then," Eric said. "Maybe it means something to you. Magic?"
"Shielding."
"Powers?"
"Mesmer."
"Elf?"
"Short."
"Leprechaun?"
"LEPRetrevial."
"Goal?"
"Gold. One metric ton, unmarked ingots."
"Now I'll try some questions. Stay relaxed, and don't think about it too hard. What is the gold for?"
"It's from...the hostage fund."
"Who is the fund for?"
"Fairies...in the LEP."
"What else do they call them?"
"Fairies, sprites, leprechauns, the People."
"Hmm...what rules do they live by?"
Artemis' eyes popped open. "The Book," he said. "Don't ask me what's in it, because I still can't remember. But that is what is in this vault."
Eric rubbed his hands together. "Well, you've cetainly given fantasy authors everywhere a run for their money. I've never seen someone react to this many magic-based keywords. Honestly, you could WRITE a book with this material.
"How does that system work?" Butler asked.
"Well, you start out using very general words or questions. Whatever frame of mind the subject is in will provide the answers unconsciously. Like I said, ideally you would have been hypnotized." He spread his hands in confusion. "What's really intriguing is the layer and selectiveness of whatever brainwashing you've been under. This type of false memory replacement usually takes years of drugs and conditioning. But like I mentioned before, they were too selective. Your subconscious mind still remembers, even if your conscious mind doesn't."
Artemis took this all in silently. Butler took this rare oppertunity to interject a comment.
"Have me and Juliet been applied to the same amount of conditioning as well?" he asked.
"Offhand, I would say less," Eric said, "you, know, because you follow Artemis' orders most of the time. But like I said, it's flawed." He looked at the drink cooler. "Anyone besides me thirsty?"
"I'll just have some spring water," Artemis said. "No ice." Eric grabbed the water and a can of Coca-Cola.
"Great to know this has such a wide consumer base," he said. "When we get back, I'm buying stock in that company." He turned the can to show Japanese characters on the back. "Wonder what this means?"
"It means, don't buy that stock," Juliet said.
A/N: Whoever can tell me where that line came from...uh...gets mentioned in this story! Yeah, that's good!
A/N2: Hint: It's a Michael Crighton book.
Suddenly, Artemis' cell phone rang. He answered it and heard...
A/N3: I'm not updating until I get 20 reviews!
insert evil laugh here
Switzerland
Once again, our heroes were jetting off to a new locale. Butler, who had visited Switzerland before for reasons still secret, had decided to come along. So had Juliet. Artemis hardly put up more than a token objection. After all, they were Butlers. There was no changing their minds.
"So why exactly are we going to Switzerland?" Eric asked. This time he had made a point of asking Juliet for a sandwich instead of Artemis. Far better looking and much more edible. (The sandwich, not Juliet.)
"Well," Artemis said, "I mentioned that Butler had conducted an audit of the estate recently. One item caught my mind: a safe-deposit box in a Swiss bank. I called, and they verified that the account existed." He smiled his vampire smile. He really must think of patenting it. "So now, we're going to see what's so important that it needed to be locked away in another country."
After arriving at the bank, though, they immediately hit a roadblock. "Artemis," Juliet said, twisting her hair in the fashion that she had. "You do have the key to this safe deposit box, don't you?"
Artemis' face fell quickly. Only for a moment, however; he recovered quickly. For all of his planning he had slipped up on this one innocuous detail. He patted Eric on the shoulder. "Right here," he replied. "Here's our key."
Butler was not as easily reassured, however. He took Artemis aside as they entered the lobby of the bank.
"Artemis, the Swiss have the best security in the world. How is this child going to beat it?"
Artemis tried to appear unconcerned. "I am a child as well, Butler. And I have beaten far better security than this." He grinned a normal smile, which was somehow even more disturbing than his vampire one. "Trust me."
While Butler and Artemis were having their conference, Eric was scanning the building for weaknesses—and in the process, noticing Butler's younger and attractive sister. He decided a little innocent small talk shouldn't be a problem.
"So, Juliet," he asked. "How long have you been with the Fowls now?"
Juliet looked incredibly bored with the circumstances that had placed her here, talking to a foreign boy at least two years younger than her. But seeing as putting him in a headlock to shut him up would somewhat draw attention in this bank, she decided to answer him.
"About fifteen or so years now. Ever since Artemis was born. Why?"
"Just curious," he shrugged. "If even half the stuff I hear about Artemis is true, it must certainly be an exciting job."
"Exciting's not the word I would use," she replied idly. Her mind was quite obviously elsewhere. "Why just last year, we—" She stopped abruptly, and a perplexed look crept across her face. "I can't remember. It's right on the tip of my tongue."
Well, well, well, Eric mused. The entire Fowl group had been subjected to some sort of brainwashing. Based on what he had gathered, however, the process was too selective. It left gaps, gaps that could be exploited—which was exactly what Eric intended.
Arnaud Chamberlain, the manager of the bank, was not in a good mood that day. His coffee had been inexcusably cold—four degrees below room temperature. His lunch was barely passable, too. The caviar was almost three days old—unacceptable. And now, he, the manager, was expected to cater to some pampered foreigner. The whole situation was intolerable. He stormed past his wispy secretary out to the lobby. Whoever was out there had better have a damn good excuse.
Butler was the first to notice the large man moving towards them. His bulk was almost enough to rival Butler's—but where Butler was solid, highly toned muscle, Chamberlain was fat and flab.
Artemis stepped forward. "I wish to see the contents of my safe," he said in fluent, unaccented Swiss.
Chamberlain was perspiring, and his breathing was heavy from storming to the front desk, but he could tell that this young boy was a customer. He resisted the urge to salute. "Of course, sir. Right away." He paused. "What is the name
"Fowl," Artemis answered. "Artemis Fowl the Second."
Chamberlain's eyes gleamed. "Ah, Master Fowl! Now I recall you." He looked distastefully at Eric, still in his polo shirt and khakis, and Juliet, wearing a tee shirt and low rise jeans. "You were, uh, not accompanied last time." He turned to the entrance to the vaults. "If you would follow me, please?"
They reached an ornate sitting room, with two plush armchairs and a couch in front of a roaring fireplace. A silver-chrome drink bar stood off to the right, next to a notebook PC and, oddly, a machine that looked like an ATM.
After Arnaud left, Artemis turned to Eric. "All right, Eric. I've gotten us in. Now how does this system work, and how do we beat it?"
"All right," Eric said. "See the thing that looks like an ATM? It's a machine that will retrieve the box from the vault when you enter the correct password. Unfortunately, it only allows three tries. So we need to be positive on the password before we enter it."
"I can't remember what I would have used," Artemis said. "After all, it was two years ago, and I don't even remember doing this in the first place."
"Okay," Eric said. "Sit down. I'm going to ask you a series of questions. Relax, try put yourself in the mindset you would have been in when you did this. Ideally, I would have someone hypnotize you, but we don't have that kind of time. Just say whatever comes to mind."
Butler and Juliet watched intently as Eric began the interrogation. Even the widely traveled Butler had never seen anything like this before.
"Name?"
"Artemis Fowl the Second."
"Place?"
"Fowl Manor."
"Room?"
"Library."
"Enemy?"
"Er...Spiro. That's all I know is that name."
Eric made a note on a piece of paper. "That's good. Friend?"
"Domovoi."
The last word triggered a start from Butler. "How did you hear that?" he asked.
"I don't know," Artemis said. "At least, not anymore."
"People?"
"Fairies," he blurted out. He blinked. "It's on the tip of my tongue. It is incredibly frustrating as well."
"I'm going to focus on that topic then," Eric said. "Maybe it means something to you. Magic?"
"Shielding."
"Powers?"
"Mesmer."
"Elf?"
"Short."
"Leprechaun?"
"LEPRetrevial."
"Goal?"
"Gold. One metric ton, unmarked ingots."
"Now I'll try some questions. Stay relaxed, and don't think about it too hard. What is the gold for?"
"It's from...the hostage fund."
"Who is the fund for?"
"Fairies...in the LEP."
"What else do they call them?"
"Fairies, sprites, leprechauns, the People."
"Hmm...what rules do they live by?"
Artemis' eyes popped open. "The Book," he said. "Don't ask me what's in it, because I still can't remember. But that is what is in this vault."
Eric rubbed his hands together. "Well, you've cetainly given fantasy authors everywhere a run for their money. I've never seen someone react to this many magic-based keywords. Honestly, you could WRITE a book with this material.
"How does that system work?" Butler asked.
"Well, you start out using very general words or questions. Whatever frame of mind the subject is in will provide the answers unconsciously. Like I said, ideally you would have been hypnotized." He spread his hands in confusion. "What's really intriguing is the layer and selectiveness of whatever brainwashing you've been under. This type of false memory replacement usually takes years of drugs and conditioning. But like I mentioned before, they were too selective. Your subconscious mind still remembers, even if your conscious mind doesn't."
Artemis took this all in silently. Butler took this rare oppertunity to interject a comment.
"Have me and Juliet been applied to the same amount of conditioning as well?" he asked.
"Offhand, I would say less," Eric said, "you, know, because you follow Artemis' orders most of the time. But like I said, it's flawed." He looked at the drink cooler. "Anyone besides me thirsty?"
"I'll just have some spring water," Artemis said. "No ice." Eric grabbed the water and a can of Coca-Cola.
"Great to know this has such a wide consumer base," he said. "When we get back, I'm buying stock in that company." He turned the can to show Japanese characters on the back. "Wonder what this means?"
"It means, don't buy that stock," Juliet said.
A/N: Whoever can tell me where that line came from...uh...gets mentioned in this story! Yeah, that's good!
A/N2: Hint: It's a Michael Crighton book.
Suddenly, Artemis' cell phone rang. He answered it and heard...
A/N3: I'm not updating until I get 20 reviews!
insert evil laugh here