Hi people it's me again. Yes yes I hear all your sighs of annoyance and exasperation. Oh well. Please review this and tell me all the stupid stuff I'm doing and possibly how I can fix it too...or flame me or whatever. I don't mind.

Disclaimer: Guess what?! ::drumroll:: I don't own Arty or anyone you recognise from the books or anywhere else! Surprise of the century! But the Browns are mine.

"Arty, dearest, please agree with me for once. I know you'll love them, they're delightful people. And it's only for two and a half months. Hardly any time at all. Please, won't you go?" Angeline Fowl pleaded with her son, but to no avail.

"Mother, as much as it pains me to decline your request, I must insist that you drop the matter. Under no circumstances shall I stay with these people for any length of time. As pleasant as I am sure they are, they cannot hope to have the facilities I require to finish my PhD in microelectronics, and I do not wish for my degree to trail on for months. You must understand that my education is more important to me than a petty experience of life with an ordinary family. I am not an ordinary person, nor do I ever hope to be one. Therefore, such experiences can only prove unnecessary and time that could be spent more productively would be wasted on acquiring them."

Always well-mannered, even when giving a flat 'no' as an answer, Artemis looked at his mother, eyes flashing but every other feature of his face displaying the calm impassiveness he was so well known for. As he said, under no circumstances would he stay with an ordinary family for two and a half months. He had been working on this PhD for six weeks now, and was almost finished it, with only one major project to finish. Indeed, it would be hard to come across an ordinary family with the technology and laboratory facilities he would need to complete it. Even his mother had to acknowledge he had a point.

Surely she would. Any second now...

"Artemis I really don't think that's a very good excuse. A PhD is supposed to take several years, and I'm sure it was only just over a month ago you told me you were starting it. Whether you're almost finished or not, I really don't think the examiners will accept it this early anyway. So, I suggest you take a break from your studies and visit the Browns. They are, after all, a very nice family. Why don't you email them and find out a bit about them?"

Artemis thought it would be imprudent to tell his mother that the only people he was interested in finding out about were those he could find by hacking into a major intelligence network such as the CIA. He also thought it imprudent to tell his mother where to go if she thought he would be putting his PhD on hold. And, being in a thinking mood, he thought about the microchip he was designing and how it would be radically better than anything IBM had ever come up with. He smiled.

"Are you even listening to me young man?" Artemis realized that his smile had given him away, and quickly rearranged his features to the indifferent look that he showed so much.

"Why yes, mother, of course. I was simply expressing my amusement at the idea that I would put my degree on hold." Angeline rolled her eyes and frantically looked down the hallway for her husband. He did not appear and she was left to deal with the situation on her own.

"Artemis I am adamant that you spend time with these people. It will be good for...developing communication skills with people different to yourself. Surely that cannot be a bad thing? Surely such diplomacy would be a highly useful skill for your future?" She knew she was clutching at straws here, and waited for her son to calmly rebut her argument as he always did. She was not disappointed.

"Indeed, mother, I hope never to be negotiating with such people myself. I expect that my business transactions in the future will be primarily with members of the wealthy upper class; generally civilized members of society, I find, although exceptions are present in any group. And I can deal with them better than most businessmen can in the prime of their careers. As I have said before, mother, and as I am certain I will say again, I have powers of communication equal to those of the best diplomats of our time."

Well. Obviously not one of his mother's strongest arguments of those she had put forward in this discussion. She was evidently clutching at straws, and Artemis knew that he had won the argument. He suppressed a self-satisfied smirk and excused himself to his laboratory to work on his project. The clever young man had, of course, realized that his mother was about to protest, and so was brisk about his departure. Angeline was left staring helplessly at the door until her husband entered, half a minute later, and demanded to hear how the discussion had gone. It is said that the screech of anguish continues to echo around some of the lesser-known and lesser-used rooms of Fowl Manor.

Artemis trotted down the stairs quickly, finally allowing his grin to appear in the privacy of his laboratory. It was, as has been established, difficult to find a better lab in Europe, apart from the really specialized ones which Artemis would take occasion to use several times during his life, although rarely for what they were intended. The boy composed himself and concentrated fully on the project at hand.

He had an odd feeling about how he should be arranging the microprocessors in the chip. Almost like deja-vu, but not quite. He imagined he must have been dreaming about the marvelous technology that would soon be his to patent (before sending it to a university of course) and hoped that he would have another subconscious flash of brilliance the next time he slept. One he remembered when he woke up, too. As they say, the subconscious is vastly better at problem-solving than the conscious mind, and Artemis had gotten himself into the habit of meditating regularly in order to develop more brilliant plans than even he would come up with. He knew his project would be truly great. He just wasn't sure why, or how. Yet. A Fowl was never without the answers for long. Artemis settled himself in a comfortable, cross-legged position and began to contemplate his Armani loafers. They were always a good start for meditation.

::::::Meanwhile, in Chester::::::

Jenny Brown was, similarly, meditating. However, several small but fundamental differences applied. She was meditating on the problem of her imminent music theory exam rather than on how to revolutionize the world of computers. She contemplated neither Armani loafers nor any other form of footwear to begin her meditation session, but said 'Maranatha' at one-minute intervals, having been taught to do so in her religion class. (Incidentally, 'maranatha' means 'come, Jesus, come', hence she learnt it during religion.) And, Jenny had nowhere near the confidence in her own mental capabilities as young Master Fowl had in his. Indeed, she considered herself quite stupid, mainly because she hadn't started studying for the theory exam yet.

Jenny, who had been meditating for the last one and a half hours, slowly arose from her cushion on the floor. She stood up and stretched, feeling somewhat re-energized as she always did after meditation. The problem of her theory exam remained, but she had some idea of how to deal with it. All was well in her world.

Yeah, right. Jenny was a very imaginative girl, and she regularly envisioned this situation occurring as she returned to consciousness. Reality was far, far from that delightful fantasy. The girl almost inevitably woke up with a headache after meditating, she would usually have fallen asleep about ten minutes into the proceedings, and it struck her that she had wantonly wasted an hour and a half in which she could potentially have been studying theory.

Damn everything. She didn't know why she persisted with this meditation thing still. She'd been trying for six months now, and never managed to do it properly. And, she'd managed to waste countless hours in this pointless venture, all of which she could have been spending productively. Such as studying theory. Or doing her theory homework. Or preparing for the theory exam. Hang on... oh well. Insanity was rife among the musos at her school. Wonder why.

The girl got a quick drink of juice from the kitchen and then sat down to work on her theory. Try as she might, she couldn't get into the right frame of mind to write harmonies and she shook her head, defeated. Hoping desperately that she would find herself able to write the thing some time before the exam came, she gave up and went to practise the piano. There was still another week before the test, and her piano lesson was growing frighteningly imminent (3 hours left) and she'd done even less for that than she had for the theory.

Well there is the first actual chapter. And I know I excused you from reviewing the prologue if you didn't want to, but you'd better give me some feedback for this. Otherwise I may never post any more of the story. Hang on...well lets just pretend that that would be a bad thing, for these purposes. Come on. Review the story. Don't make me use my Sig Sauer. Muhahaha