The worst kind of genius is definitely a miserable genius; the technical wizard Foaly was currently a miserable genius. – In fact, as he recalled the last year's events, it would not be unreasonable to go as far as to say Foaly was probably the most miserable genius under the world. (Well, in the top two, anyway.)
In the last few months his two best friends had been imprisoned, he had become totally out of favour in his occupation and the society of justice, prosperity, tolerance and relative peace, to which he belonged and had contributed so much towards was being ruined, by the totalitarian regime of Ark Sool, who was unjustly in control of everything and anything.
The rise to power of this merciless man had taken only twelve short months and had been reminiscent of some of the worst dictators in fairy history. Almost a year ago Sool, somewhat dubiously, inherited control of LEPrecon (Lower Elements Police Reconnaissance) from the great Julius Root, he immediately stamped his authority, preaching the message of keeping Haven "safe" from "outside influences" i.e. keeping mud men, like Artemis Fowl, away… for ever. This message proved popular with Haven's corruptible citizens and, when the LEP's commander-in-chief was killed in very suspicious circumstances (a freak accident where Rupert Lambert - somehow managed to burn to death in Foaly's supposedly fire-proof blazer – Foaly lost a large clothing budget for this, not to mention a lot of credibility,) Sool was the only, politically correct, man for the job and so naturally he got it. From this, illustrious, position, he was able to spread his isolationist propaganda; there were numerous unsubstantiated claims of Mud men infiltrating, and living among, the fairy people and exaggerated stories of close scrapes with intelligence agencies such as the NSA and MI6. When, a further two months on, the council elections came up Sool stood as a surprise candidate winning the hearts and minds of fairies who lapped up his paranoia and, thus, ensured him a landslide victory. Within days, he reformed the LEP into his own witch hunting force, within a week he was using the media to invent mud man related stories, within two he declared a state of Marshall-Law, and within a month, his private force he was persecuting and ultimately imprisoning anyone thought to be sympathetic toward the Mud Men, or anyone he pleased – the first being the, horrified, Holly Short and Mulch Diggums. In Foaly's eyes, Haven had gone crazy; there were reports of random beatings anywhere and everywhere with the excuse, "He looked at me like a Mud Man would," now being deemed acceptable. Haven was in directed anarchy; Haven was a dictatorship.
Foaly's position was untenable. It was relatively common knowledge that Foaly, whilst being a little reclusive from the outside world himself, was very sceptical of Sool, in fact, he despised him; He hated him - with a passion, unbecoming of the cynical centaur. He had been delivering secret messages to the likes of Holly and organising sabotages for the small resistance cell that had been formed in the hope of causing an uprising against Sool. In truth though, the group lacked any true direction, inspiration or leadership that someone like Holly Short could provide. All the people likely to get heavily involved were either already imprisoned or worse. As a result, the rebellion was being crushed quicker than it had begun; its twenty or so members had all been rounded up with nonchalant ease - like sheep, encountering the most competent of Border Colliers. With Sool granting the LEP (now nicknamed the LEB – Lower Elements Bullies) "emergency powers" to root out the " despicable terrorists that are such a plague upon society." It was only a matter of time before a naïve, young, idealist gave into the highest setting on the buzz baton, and then it would not be long before a hard nosed retrieval officer would come knocking on Foaly's and, after that, he was as good as dog meat. (Not that fairies have dogs.)
No, I will have to get out, and soon.
Foaly had made a conscious decision: today would be his last day in service for the LEP; he would go into hiding. He was not planning to give any notice, technically he was a civilian, after all and he had no goodbyes to make – there was no one still in the LEP who he had any respect left for, except maybe Trouble Kelp.
He did feel a little singe of guilt at deserting the sinking ship; he imagined the quip that Julius would have undoubtedly made were he there.
"That's it, old donkey, go find some synthetic, grassy, field to graze in for the next 50 years; don't worry about us, you go have some hay."
Foaly's imagination was so real he almost began his own retort.
Something blipped on his sensors, an anomaly in one of the estuaries. There were hundreds of these so called feeder tunnels; they were built for easy access to some key, but obscure, locations above ground (when shielded flight to other aboveground detinations from the big terminals, like Tara, wasn't possible.) This particular estuary ran alongside and in-between a few of the upper forts until finally feeding into the huge H19 chute. Foaly looked up at the 3D projected diagram of the tunnel network that was floating above his desk; he noted two things about the estuary. Firstly, as well as being narrow (as is the nature of the estuaries) it was one of the straightest tunnels around, barely a kink in the whole thing, secondly it originated along the south coast of Portugal. Foaly sighed; one more job wouldn't hurt. He activated one of the high-resolution cameras in the chute - every tunnelwas now equipped with at least four of Foaly's high-tech looking windows. - He couldn't help but smile proudly at this particular thought. What he could make out from the first camera was just two specks, unidentifiable at the current angle. Foaly changed the camera. Voila! He had a much better view now. There were two individuals, falling through the wide shot of the device's lens, both assuming the correct, professional, diving position to minimise their velocity. It was two males. Humans! One adult and one child. Foaly was definitely interested now. He zoomed in to complete the picture. And there, rather paled, but with the same intense brilliance radiating from his bones was Artemis Fowl and, next to him, the massive bulk of muscle that is, the admittedly a little aged, Butler. Foaly's pulse was racing but, almost instantaneously, the imminent death of his past counterparts occurred to him. What could he do? He quickly looked skimmed his tunnel schematic, looking at the positions of the reds dots representing LEP shuttles. All but one were grouped together at the LEP port. The one belonged to none other than Trouble Kelp, and he was reasonably near H19, as well. Some hope built up in Foaly. He opened a priority line to Kelp.
"Kelp, we have a situation." His voice sounded urgent, but Trouble didn't seem to pick up on it.
"What, Foaly? Some angry demonstrators spill tea on Sool's new jacket or something?" Foaly was not amused.
"No. It's a serious situation; note that I haven't made and smart aleck quips myself. Does that not tell you something?"
"Well, what is it?"
"Are we on a secure line?"
"You designed it." The military man replied
"I meant is anyone we can't trust listening." Snapped Foaly.
"No, but if its rebellion business then you know I'm not interested. I like being neutral, more importantly, I like my neck the way it is."
"Right, whatever." Foaly was talking very quickly now; "Get over to H16 and then to the bottom of the Portuguese estuary."
"Why in Cupid's name would I do that?"
"Just do it; you need to catch something" Foaly was irritated.
"Foaly, you're not helping your case." Kelp retorted, rather smugly.
"Its Artemis Fowl and Butler, they are falling. You've got to catch them!"
"You have got to be kidding me! D'arvit, Foaly, D'arvit! I'll be there in fifty." Foaly hoped with all his might that he meant seconds because they had little more than thirty until Artemis and Butler came crashing into the sides of H16.
"One thing, Foaly what do I do when I get there?"
"You open your upper hatch and then, you earn your money … fly-boy."
"I'm not worried about the fancy flying Foaly; I'm worried about the combination of gravity, and the steel decking that I'm standing on." Foaly thought for a moment, it was a good point.
"Energy absorbers." Foaly announced triumphantly, all to aware that they had around 22 seconds to go.
"What under the earth are you talking about?"
"You should have them in your aft storage lockers, they are like gooey sheets, they were designed as an energy saving measure. As yet, we've only tested them on thermal and electrical energy but they should work on gravitational potential energy." Explained Foaly in a rambled speech. "We have them in both blue and pink." He added - pedantic even in the face of crisis.
"Baines, you heard the horse, get one." The captain barked at a junior officer, "All set Foaly, how long we got?" Foaly ignored the horse comment because of time constraints
"Eleven seconds."
"Right." Kelp acknowledged. Amidst the panic Foaly felt an uncharacteristic urge to be excited. Artemis Fowl was coming, who knows what he could accomplish for the people… " Oh, and Kelp, If you miss … I will killyou. I don't know how, but I will." And, at that moment in time, he meant it.