Disclaimer: Artemis Fowl, Butler and all the AF canon characters don't belong to me although they are allowing me a temporary loan just so long as I don't hurt them too bad and I don't make money. But all these other creations are mine! ALL MINE!!!! Muah HA ha AHHHAHHAAAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Author's Note: I'm actually back on a roll with this story with all the chapters planned out, my plot holes darned and I should be able to write and write and write so I should get back on track. Should. For all those that can't remember: Liam's dad works in Belgium and his little sister is named Jacaranda because of their mother's insanity and nicknamed 'Jac'.
Thanks: To Wierdo (I'm not Indian although I did go there for a holiday.); Ivycreeper (I'm done with the jumping backwards and forwards… for now.); Darth gryph (I'm glad you appreciate my attempt at having a serious plotline it's hard enough to write.); Da-xia Nariko (It's pretty much all Liam and Arty and Root and Holly from now on in.); blacknight (I don't think I could ever write a romance novel length. But I wrote You Can't Jump Over Yourself , in part, because of your review.); ozzy (Sorry, it used to be chapter 3 and it's a pun of the old saying 'different as cheese and chalk – said in a genius-y manner.); Bite Me (No, I'm not petty like Big Friendly Walrus and I'm sure he'll appreciate being called a demented freak. Although, could you please tell me where you get the impression that he's my best friend, I've been curious.); Li Kayun (this could turn into a war of the flattery couldn't it. Can I at least be jealous of you being able to spell jealous properly?)
Chapter Five
Mistletoe and Blackmail
"Inside every small problem is a larger one struggling to get out."
- Anonymous
After Dr McGrath handed out the numerous sheets of code the school went through a number of clearly marked stages that separated different people of the school from the others. For the first 4 hours coded pages were carried everywhere, by everyone. Most soon dropped off and refocussed their lives on more tangible things such as football and hormones. Another group stopped within 24 hours; the boys who only had a limited amount of patience even if it would have been possible for them to persevere a bit longer. Within 48, another class of people had fallen. Those who had been absolutely determined but nature and logic had overruled them. And in the next day some of the last few despaired. They were the ones who were bright, knew they were bright, but failed to bring the goods home on this occasion. But that was alright because there was quite a bit of entertainment to be made by betting on who would last the longest.
By the fifth day, any of the bets laid on boys other than Artemis Fowl and Liam Brambling had been proven false. Dark and ominous circles ringed both pairs of eyes and neither was ever seen without a stack of paper and a red pen in front of him - in classes, meals, or after lights out. But their suspended education was not of great importance because it seemed as if the rest of the school - students, prefects and faculty alike - were all holding their breaths as well. An observer, (of which there were many) could see the different ways that both were approaching the problem laid in front of him. Fowl was staying calm, working out one symbol before moving onto the next, never stressing or becoming agitated over his progress. The most important feature though was his complete confidence in his abilities; he wasn't feeling the need to rush because he knew that he would soon understand it. Brambling on the other hand was loosing more sleep. He was acting irrationally and many attributed this to a desire to beat Artemis on his home turf. Codes were his speciality and it would be the highest insult for Artemis to succeed before him.
Liam was being so compulsive that he was only seeing the small things of the individual characters that made up the code that occupied his entire time. He didn't see the bigger mystery: why was the code being given out in the first place?
* * * * *
Artemis had been troubling over this aspect almost more than he had been pondering the cryptic code. It was also an advantage to him that he had the curiosity over the Gnommish and not such an irrational approach to winning. (He thought that it might actually be very educational to loose at one point - know how the underdog feels so it is better to manipulate him.)
One thing among many was certain - if he was the one to first break the code he wasn't going to hand the result into the government.
There were many reasons why he thought that the government might be handing out a code to school boys. They wanted to test the system. They had 'acquired' the code from an intercepted transmission and thought that it might be relating to the IRA or a terrorist group. Maybe it was really the CIA behind it and they thought - like all paranoid Americans - that it must be someone out to get them. But none of the explanations made complete sense. The government or any other organisation would be reaching the end of their resources if they were handing out copies to anyone. Being this open about a code would mean that the sender (assuming it was intercepted) would know and instantly change it.
To an outsider this might look like an overly paranoid state of mind but Artemis was really only exercising a healthy scepticism. It was almost like it was a game. Most messages that were important enough to be coded were not coded so obviously. The proper way to code a message is to create a normal message with the message inside of it not this business of creating an alphabet to hide it. The people who created an alphabet were amateurs.
To say the least, the code was twisting Artemis' mind in ways that the human mind should not be twisted. Some of Artemis' peers and teachers noticed this and decided that since this wasn't the normal and proper behaviour for a pre-teen something must be wrong. And so was the reason for the now infamous psychiatrist's appointment that became the start of Artemis' notorious adventures with the Goblin upsurgeance and his involvement in the Russian Mafiya.
* * * * *
(AN: This now jumps to after the Artic Incidence. When Artemis has just admitted to respecting some rare people.)
Artemis walked slowly out of Doctor Po's office. He hadn't really been concentrating on much lately with the possible excuse of the layers and layers of exhaustion from the last 4 days. He wasn't paying attention to the hallways before him as he made his way back to his shared dormitory in the MacDougal wing, just reflecting on the slightly mysterious, slightly witty and slightly… accurate conversation with the Doctor.
He made his way into the room and flopped (only as much as a Fowl ever flops) onto his bed in the right-hand corner. The desk beside had papers covered in red pen strewn all over it. The obsession with the code seemed such a long, long time ago now. Figuring out a message and the reasons why it exists in the first place seemed so… petty. Artemis is quite used to thinking of the actions of others as petty - from classmates to politicians - but it usually did not relate to himself.
He pulled himself upright, picking up the most completed copy of the code and pulling it onto his lap. He examined what he had. Most of the various codes that made up the grand total had been cracked quite easily although about 3 had resisted. The Mayan dialect for one - it was quite extinct and only to be found in the most obscure of published journals with no proper translations. There were only two codes left. One was actually modern Greek. But the sounds of the characters appeared to be muddled so what it appeared to be was actually something else. Some headway was being made in the margins of a sheet. And lastly there was the numbers. Fractions, random letters, negatives, positives… The hardest part was not knowing whether or not they were representing letters or words or maybe even ideas. It was almost impossible.
This wasn't petty, when you thought about it. He was doing it as a personal challenge and vocation. He wanted to discover who it might possibly relate to and why it was even in existence.
He tried another possible variation for a Greek character.
* * * * *
About an hour later, a sweaty and stinking Arton Smyth barged into the room backwards while continuing a yelled conversation with his mates who were already further down the hall. He turned, shaking his head, and started when he spotted the previously bent head of his roommate who had mysteriously disappeared for the last 4 days.
"Fowl? Where have you been? Sorry for sounding rude but… "
"I was required in Switzerland."
"Right. If you say so." Arton moved closer and Artemis' nose visibly wrinkled at the smell from the boy standing behind him. He pretended it wasn't there and brought the pen tip to hover over the page once again.
"What are you still doing that code for, Fowl? It's been cracked. Brambling had it 3 days back. Got some cool prize for it--"
Artemis felt the same strange feeling that had accompanied his exhaustion. The code was already done. Admittedly, Brambling had probably only finished it first because Artemis' own mind was distracted by more important things over the last few days but…
It wasn't what he felt that was important; it was what others thought he was feeling. Reputation is one of the most unstable things in the world, as it often brings down those it once held up. Artemis wasn't one to brag - rather he just acted completely self-assured so that everyone knew without being told. It was the principle.
When someone who has never lost goes down, it's the right time for the thugs to have a go. Because it is well known that the loser will be soon on their feet again and then it would be impossible.
Here it came…
"Fowl, you looked stunned. You must have been beaten before. And… it can't be that bad. Now you know what it's like to be one of us mere mortals who have to study on occasion." He grinned but Artemis was still looking down, turning things over in his head. "Brambling was ecstatic to have bettered you at your own game for once - all that genius biz and all." He felt as though this was some how the wrong thing to have said. In the far reaches of a jock's mind lies a small slither of self-preservation. He tried to cover his tracks but had only opened his mouth when he was cut off.
Artemis spoke calmly and unemotionally - and it wasn't a trick. "I never cared about finishing first or anything. I was along for the ride. It's an exercise for my brain in this closeted world of simple assessments and simpleminded teachers."
"But you and Brambling are always competing against each other in everything. And this was worse than most of the previous ones. We can all see it. You can't lie your way out of it, Fowl."
"No. Brambling is competing against me in an effort to prove himself. Perhaps with this half-victory he'll start acting his IQ. I was never competing because I've never needed to beat him in order to feel better about myself. I already know what I am."
Arton just opened and closed his mouth a few times and moved back to his own corner and didn't say another word.
* * * * *
The last day of the school term came only a few days later. It hadn't been really worth it to return in the first place but … it was expected. In the grounds you got the half-bustle of rich families trying not to appear as if hurrying. Artemis waited in his room with his laptop open and the papers of the code on the top of his trunk. He glanced out the window occasionally while looking for Butler and lazily observed the boys leaving. He had just spotted a man about Butler's gigantic build with the same deep brown hair and had half closed the laptop when the man turned and Artemis could see his glasses and scared nose. He continued watching him for a moment until the man approached Brambling who was obviously waiting for him on the topiary lawns.
"What are you doing, Fowl?"
Artemis nearly jumped out his skin at the voice of Joshua from behind him. He turned and his gaze left the figures of the Butler-like man and his classmate. Joshua was grinning in the way that all geeky losers do and was wearing the expression of a 7-year-old regardless of his prominent Adam's apple and stubble. "So… who's mum were you watching?"
Artemis didn't even grace that with a comment or reaction, turning back to the window overlooking the drive. People like Joshua were unimportant and would talk regardless of whether or not you were listening.
Surprisingly enough there was silence for almost a minute before it was broken.
"You know… You and Brambling--"
"--Are alike? So you keep telling me."
"No. You… You're… Like a freedom fighter and a terrorist."
"Now that's a real piece of genius."
"You both are seen as the good guys or bad guys just depending on your point of view. You both believe the other is wrong. You both…"
Artemis decided to help him out in this unfamiliar mental territory. "We both have the same theme to our goals, in the way that both a freedom fighter and a terrorist want freedom from the whoever the oppressors are. But then we go about completely differently ways in order to achieve them; demonstrations versus … violet demonstrations."
"See, you both do the same things and so you should get along and do brainiac things together."
"You switched arguments, Joshua… And freedom fighters and terrorists never get along." Joshua took this as a hint and moved towards the door. "And by the way, which one of us is which?"
* * * * *
Liam Brambling heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief as the sheer stupidity of the school was left behind as he drove away. The Brambling manservant – named Marcus – was driving and although he and Liam usually got on quite well together they were sitting in silence.
Marcus decided to take the initiative and break the silence that was beginning to become painful in the way it was one of those oppressive silences that suck in noise from the background or radio. "Liam, are you looking forward to Christmas?"
"Are Mother and Father going to be home?"
"No, they're still in Liege. But by Christmas day they'll be at the townhouse in Brussels and they want you and Jac to fly out as soon as possible. Christmas is only 6 days away."
"It's not right to have Christmas away from home. Jac's only 9, they should try and make things stable for her sake at least."
"Think of it as… Don't think about it, Liam. You only ever start fretting when you do that." The silence returned.
"I heard you won that competition for code-cracking. Your picture was in the paper under some sappy heading about youth of today and forward to the technological future. That was a big deal, wasn't it? Although it must have been simple for you, eh Liam?"
"It was a bit of a hollow victory. Fowl had left the school for a few days and so there wasn't any competition. And he didn't even care that it'd beaten him"
"Fowl?"
"Do you know the name?" Marcus nodded without twisting his head from looking at the road. "Well, Artemis Fowl. Brandishes his IQ about like you wouldn't believe."
"Hummmm… Sounds like someone else I know?"
"Marcus, I don't do that … and if I do it's by accident. But Fowl introduces himself as highest IQ in Europe and the next DaVinci. It's egotistical."
"It must be good to have someone on your level at school. That's a real coincidence. You always used to complain about a lack of challenge. Is it—"
"No."
Marcus just took the hint and didn't say anything more. Turning on the radio at one point, but then that became repetitive and boring with the same pop culture song playing thrice in an hour. By the time they had reached the Brambling home in Kildare, it was the darker end of twilight. They left the car; Liam taking his smaller bags while Marcus took his trunk into the house.
As soon as they entered Cathy Olson, the cook, housekeeper and Jacaranda's Nanny, came bustling out of the laundry with her arms filled with folded linen. She saw them at the door and gave a half-wave with her elbow before moving down a corridor. She came back in moments with her arms freed, pulling Liam into a huge hug and smacked a kiss on each cheek.
"Why don't you go up and see your sister? She's getting ready for her school pageant – she's playing one of the angels. She's got on one of your mother's nightgowns and a gorgeous halo and wings. She was hoping you'd be home in time to go to watch her. I promised her I'd go as well."
Liam smiled. "When's it on? I want to have a shower before we have to leave."
"You've got half an hour, dear. I'd better go and hurry up Jac though, she's pushing it." And she started up the stairs yelling out "Jac! Jacaranda!"
Marcus and Liam looked at each other and grinned. Then they made their way down a side corridor to Liam's bedroom, taking the luggage with them.
They had deposited the baggage in the corner and were making their way back down the corridor when they heard running footsteps and sobbing. Cathy was running down the stairs looking around her frantically.
"Liam! Your sister … I don't know … it's something strange … she's …"
* * * * *
At Fowl Manor Artemis was in an… unstable mood. His father had been officially found and identified and his mother had left for Helsinki yesterday. She had assumed that he would come - he had assumed that he would go - but at the last moment he remembered the blank look in his father's eyes on the occasion he had regained consciousness while Holly had been healing him. And whenever he even thought about what could have happened with his half-plan in Russia…
In any case he didn't think he was up to days waiting by a bedside with his Mother being anxious and silent, Butler acting in a state of continuous approval that couldn't possibly be real, and Juliet … painfully ditzy, bouncy, and with a mean punch.
The silence of the manor was much more to his taste.
He had been decoding the last of the code - finishing the Greek in a matter of hours but every time he thought he was making headway with the numbers he ran into another wall of complication. The problem with this section was that it wasn't based on anything that he could find on the Internet or in history or in texts. It was completely random; whenever he thought he found a place where a meaning might fit, when placed in another spot it was somehow wrong.
Service to say it wasn't a very relaxing first day of the holidays.
A… breakthrough came when he was separating the numbers from the rest of the data in order to be able to process it properly through the computer. He removed each translated section one by one and put it in a separate file. When he moved the last of the Mayan dialect he realised something. It was so simple that a 9-year-old making up clues for friends would have thought of it.
Each of the languages helped make up the big clue (which was still hopelessly patchy in places) but in itself it also had a meaning.
The real message in the Mayan was: 'Trust in my workmanship. It fits the genetic specifications. It can not be broken and will not fail.'
* * * * *
There were a few problems when it came to translating the individual sections of text. The main one being that whoever had transcribed, written or constructed the code in the first place had missed sections. When these breaks were looked at in what Artemis had termed the "grand code" it still made sense and didn't ruin the garbled message all that much. But when these breaks were looked at in the smaller sections of each language it meant that there could be three gaps within one sentence.
He only had 3 basic individual translations left to do - the Greek, the Gnommish, and the still incomprehensible number system. They were the shortest snippets with the most sections missing of the lot. Some of the languages held no extra message and were simply filling for the Grand Code, but the translated rest were of various and sometimes unrelated topics. But from what Artemis could understand it was pertaining to power or blackmail and also some … biological weaponry.
It was a clue in itself as to who was sending the message and who was listening in.
There were rumours about both sides of the half-war between Pakistan and India constructing their own arsenals and it would be lax of the world to think that biological, chemical and atomic weaponry wouldn't be part. It was one of those moments of extreme tension in World History where everyone was looking over their shoulder for the enemy to start firing. It seemed that the two countries would soon be at each other's metaphorical throats and not even Cricket was holding them together. Especially since the bombing in Hyderabad, Pakistan where many civilians and only 3 militia were killed.
Artemis was jolted out of his thoughts by the ringing telephone, which was probably his Mother once again – checking up on him.
"Fowl."
"Listen, it's Brambling."
"Why on Earth..?"
"I need… You are going to help me with something. It's an illness. I don't think it's natural."
Artemis felt a tiny sense of premonition and his eyes flickered back to the computer screen and the sectioned translations. But his cynicism cut in.
"And why should I be helping you, Brambling?"
"Because you plagiarised on your English Essay last term."
Artemis was genuinely confused when he said, "What?"
The voice on the other end of the line sounded smug, knowing that he was about to get what he wanted. "Your essay about the possible political future for Middle Eastern countries. Half of that was copied from the Internet; written by a Doctor F. Roy Dean Schlippe. A response to one of Taliesin's writings. Now, if you don't come and help me with this I'll let that out to the school and you'll lose your precious reputation."
"It's not plagiarism if you repeat your own words, is it?"
"What? Fowl, I'm telling you--"
"I'm telling you that I wrote both essays."
"But… I looked up the Doctor. It's a pseudonym for a 47 year old who lives in Vienna. He's published!"
"No. It's a pseudonym for a 13 year old who lives in Ireland. And I wrote the English essay before I wrote the Internet reply. Don't tell me that you haven't done something similar."
"Well… I…""Goodbye, Brambling."
"Please. I don't—"
And Artemis hung up.
He leaned forward on his chair, pulled up the Greek on screen and put the fragmented parts together. Artemis would have given some big money in order to see Liam's face when his blackmail plan failed. Of course it was going to fail right from the start. Imagine … trying to blackmail over the phone, spilling your cards too early and not being cold in voice and manner. It was a truly pathetic attempt.
The last of the Greek translation slid into place and Artemis glanced over at it expecting some more of the same, which gave him nothing but more questions. It was not.
Plan one in place … Subject, leprechaun Captain Mistletoe, is unaware and the … ready for … You'll have your freedom in no time … meer.
And everyone knows that one famous type of Mistletoe is Holly.