ASN: Not ours....
AN: Wish it was....
My plan to capture a fairy and hold it for ransom does not seem quite so clear out here in the field. It's been over four months since we've started our stakeouts, and there have been no signs of unusual activity. I can't show any indecision in front of Butler, who already believes this a fool's errand.
And I'm finding it harder and harder to concentrate. My mother's fantasies have gotten worse. At first, her dementia was helpful in that I no longer had to worry about her discovery or interference in my plans. But now, she no longer remembers who I am from day to day.
I'm not sure what to do.
And that disturbs me almost as much as Mother's problems. I always know what to do.
I must ruthlessly clear the thoughts from my head and turn my attention back to the task at hand. I stare through my scope, waiting for a fairy.
Butler moves behind me, a soft, somehow nervous sound. "Artemis, I know it's not my place, but I know there's something wrong. And if there's anything I can do..."
Brief indecision. I don't want Butler's trust in me to waver, but I need to talk to someone I can trust. And if I can't trust Butler, who can I trust?
I sigh. "It's my mother, Butler. I'm beginning to wonder if she'll ever—"
The alarm flashes red. A fairy has finally arrived.
Butler pulls the radar monitor to him, and nods at me. I pull my sunglasses on and nod at Butler to continue.
We creep out of my blind and towards the figure. It's clearly too small to be an adult human, but it is too delicately proportioned to be a child.
Delicate?
I must focus. This is probably the most important moment of my life. I nod at Butler, and he takes careful aim and fires the dart...just as the figure bends over.
Butler missed!
He missed?!
The figure pulls a weapon, and Butler immediately confronts it, wrenching the gun from it's grip with an amused comment I do not hear.
"I don't suppose you would consider peaceful surrender?" I ask as I step out of the shadows. The figure turns to me in fighting stance, defensive anger written all over her face.
"No, I suppose not." I sigh dramatically, but my thoughts race.
Her? It was clearly female.
I'll think about this later.
The fairy snaps something brave and threatening at me. I coolly remind her that since she has yet to complete the Ritual, she's not a large danger.
The elf is clearly shocked and dismayed that I know her race's secrets, but hides it well.
And then, her voice changes. It becomes deeper, and practically resonates with bass tones. "Human, your will is mine."
Ah. She's attempting to mesmer us. The sunglasses fulfill their role marvelously. I grin at her. "I think not," I say, and wave at Butler, who fires again.
The dart strikes the fairy squarely this time, and she winces in undeniable pain before she falls to the grass.
Funny, I hadn't really expected the fairies to be so humanlike. And I really hadn't expected a girl.
I am bored. It is a cold night in late January, and I find myself with nothing to do. My recent encounter with the People has returned our bank accounts to their former level, and there has been no pressing need for another criminal enterprise. Also, with the reemergence of my mother from her fantasies, my life has become abruptly more structured and controlled.
I shudder slightly, although the room is heated almost to the point of being balmy. Mother plans on sending me to boarding school for the remainder of the spring semester, to some place called St. Bartleby's.
I glower at my computer without really seeing it. My criminal acts will be distinctively curtailed in a supervised institution.
Perhaps that is the reason for my exile. My mother is not a fool, and she does not approve of my activities. She may have given way before my father, but apparently, she will not for me. Having my father gone has made her more independent and decisive, as well as stubborn. Although, maybe that was Captain Short's influence on my mother when the elf healed her...
I scowl slightly. There was no logical reason for the captain to meddle with my mother's mind. More probably, the elf just allowed those characteristics to advance to the front of my mother's persona rather than being repressed, as they were before my father's disappearance.
In any case, Mother has definitely been more active since her healing. In the whirlwind of activity following her recovery, I have had no time to continue my plots, and there are none that I can successfully initiate and conclude before I leave.
I glower at the computer monitor. Undoubtedly, I will have an ample amount of time to plan a series of complex schemes during my so-called 'advanced' classes. However, I will not have access to a secure Internet line, or the other, more unusual resources needed to carry them out my plans. Thusly, they will have to wait until I can return here to Fowl Manor.
I am not looking forward to this new school.
My hands flex on the keyboard. I will make use of what time I have remaining. Perhaps there is something simple that does not require weeks of preparation that will add a few hundred thousand Euros to our accounts.
My rapid typing slows a little. One of the small, but successful, trading companies on the New York Stock exchange has left their systems blindingly open. At least, open to a hacker with any amount of finesse. I lean toward the screen in rapt concentration.
It is quite easy to access their server and view their client's accounts. I pull my newly redesigned skimming program from a drawer and load it. My computer hums peacefully as it prepares to upload the program into the company's server and cause the company to 'misplace' some of its funds.
As I wait for the program to load, I scan through the company's records. They had not been doing as well as their public reports had boasted. In fact, the company is struggling to operate. If I proceed with my plan and take my planned amount of money from the accounts, the trading company will most likely go bankrupt.
I can feel a frown furrowing my brow. This should not concern me.
But it does. The company is not carrying enough insurance for their client's accounts. Many people will lose their money. Money that they are depending on for the future. Money that will suddenly evaporate into nothingness.
I sigh and change a few numbers on my program. The program obediently skims off only a fraction of what I had it originally programmed to do.
I lean back in my chair, slightly disgusted with myself.
The company will take a hit, but the insurance will cover it. The company will survive and will definitely address its security, or rather, the lack thereof, preventing a less scrupulous hacker from doing what I could not.
I believe I am getting soft. My encounter with the elves of the LEP has definitely changed me, made me more aware of the effects of my actions on other people.
I am not sure I appreciate it.
After all, Gold is Power. Aurum Est Potestas.
And yet...I had gold. I had a literal ton of gold. Nevertheless, it did not satisfy my desires. It did not make me...happy, for the lack of a better word. It did not have the power to heal my mother's mind and give me back the woman who loved me as I am.
In fact, only giving back the gold gave me that power.
And so, I find myself thinking that the clichéd notion that 'money is not everything' may actually be true.
However, money is definitely something, and I would personally much rather have it than not.
I decisively return my skimming program to the drawer and lock it up for a more opportune time.
I think I will move my enterprises into exploiting more shady or distasteful companies. Not victimless crimes, but the only victims will be the ones who deserve it. Or who can afford it.
Perhaps that will appease my newly developing sense of conscience.
I sigh and start up the Internet to search for a deserving opponent for my next plot.
Crime was so much easier before I met Holly.