Chapter 1: The Man in Limerick

St Bartleby's School for Young Gentlemen, Algebra Class

Artemis ran into the classroom and sat down at his seat. He was late, again. He had been trying to find some readable books at the library, but the contents were all too limited for Artemis. The Algebra teacher looked Artemis up and down. He doesn't seem to know he is terribly late, thought the teacher, as Artemis placed his Algebra books onto his desk. The teacher cleared his throat loudly. No response.

"Well, well. What do we have here? Fowl, again. I see that you are late," drawled the teacher, walking over to Artemis. Artemis looked up. He stood up, calmly. Couldn't these dull-witted beings give up? Artemis Fowl the Second can never be beaten, thought Artemis. Artemis cleared his throat and straightened his tie.

"You are pointing out the obvious, Sir. It is exactly five minutes and forty-seven seconds since the bell rang, and still counting. I have a good enough reason for my late arrival. I was in the library, searching for books that are good enough to be read, but I did not succeed, of course." Artemis focused his gaze on the fuming teacher's face. A vein was pulsing in his neck. Ah. Warming up. Artemis sighed as the teacher marched back to his seat.

"Remain standing, Fowl," he barked. Artemis looked at the teacher calmly.

"For what reason, Sir? I do not understand why I am forced to stand. According to my calculations, Sir, you are late every single day. By an average of one minute and thirty-three seconds, approximately," said Artemis. The teacher knew Artemis was right. Everyday he would hide behind the toilets and wolf down doughnuts. A good reason for his bulging belly. He gulped and glaring at Artemis, he sat down at his desk.

"Sit down, then," he shot at Artemis. Artemis sat down. "Now, we shall continue with the lesson..." The teacher started droning on about some Algebra rubbish. Just as Artemis was about to sleep, a pager began to beep. The whole class perked up, staring around. Who was so inconsiderate as to page them during a lesson? Artemis was muttering angrily when he realized something. It was HIS pager. Artemis stuck his head under his desk and taking his pager out of his pocket, he glanced at the number. It was Butler's handphone number. Quickly, Artemis stuffed it back into his pocket. Had Butler gotten some information from his contact in Limerick? Suddenly, taking everybody by surprise, the bell rang. Artemis, usually one of the last ones to leave, ran out of the door before anyone else.

Artemis checked his watch. Twenty-five minutes to History class. He ran down a flight of stairs and took refuge in a school garden. Slumping behind a tree, he took out his handphone and dialed Butler's handphone number. Butler answered on the first ring.

"Butler? I beg your pardon, but why did you page me-"

"Artemis, about those lenses. My friend claims that we ordered the lenses from him a few months ago. Though I have no recollection of that, he showed me a copy of a receipt and an order form," Butler said. Artemis raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure, Butler? I myself do not remember anything of that sort. Why else would I send you to check on those lenses?" Artemis murmured. "This is getting weird...'

"I conclude that someone has been toying with my memories, Artemis," Butler said. Artemis could not help nodding.

"But, how?" he muttered out loud. A group of boys walked casually into the garden. Artemis swallowed.

"I have to go now, Butler. I shall call you," Artemis whispered before pocketing his handphone. The boys were now plucking out flowers and twisting them viciously. Artemis had the urge to do the same, to vent his frustration on those flowers. But, no. Artemis Fowl did not do ridiculous things like that. Artemis walked around the tree thoughtfully. If they had ordered those lenses, why couldn't they remember doing so? Artemis sat down at the bottom of the tree trunk, holding his head in his hands. Someone had toyed with his memories. And Artemis was not on the verge of letting them go.

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