Memories

Artemis walked into the media room and slid the door shut behind him quietly. The room was silent and a rich ocean blue bathed every object in it. There was no sound except for the gentle hum of the powerful engines of the Lear. Artemis breathed in deeply. For the first time in many months, he felt relaxed. The place had an aura of peace.

He slowly walked over to the couch and opened his mouth to speak. But then his hand brushed against something soft, and he looked down. Reddler was asleep, her hair fanned out on the cushion. Her white skin was bathed in the ocean blue, and she almost seemed to glow. Artemis dropped a breath. He had never seen anything so beautiful. Almost unconsciously, his hand reached out and gently put a strand of hair away from her face. Her hair seemed as soft as her skin. In that unearthly light, it seemed to have a strange luminescence, a fluid quality to it. He smiled absently, relishing the touch that still lingered in his fingers.

"What's so funny?"

Artemis started, he hadn't noticed her stirring. He shook his head.

"You look lovely when you sleep," he said softly. Reddler was astonished.

"Excuse me?"

Artemis smiled again. At that moment, every movement, every feature of hers seemed to be heightened. He hadn't noticed the two small dimples on her cheek that winked even when she wasn't smiling. Or her eyes, large and liquid. God, those eyes….

Or her fragrance. She smelled of vanilla and the softest hint of jasmine. It was so heavenly; he couldn't believe he'd ignored it before…

"Uh…Fowl?" called out Reddler.

"Shh," gestured Artemis. He didn't want to break the moment, lose her fragrance, lose the look on her eyes…

Reddler was puzzled. Why was Artemis in such a good mood? She didn't like the way he was staring at her. His gaze was so intense, it made her uncomfortable. And his eyes seemed to draw her into him, deep into their yawning blue. Reddler looked away, secretly knowing that she might not be able to stop once he got her started. It was just the way he made her feel. Ignoring the goose bumps on her skin, she flicked on the lights.

Artemis blinked in the harsh light. He was sitting on the arm of the couch, shading his eyes with his hand. Reddler noticed that he had changed into a fresh shirt and a light jacket. She looked down at her own jeans, which had an enormous rip on the thigh, and suddenly felt messy in front of him. She had been so tired and angry that she'd forgotten to change, flopping down wearily on the couch instead.

"You can find some clothes in the closet," said Artemis, reading her mind.

"Uh-huh," said Reddler. "Is that why you woke me?"

"Actually," he replied, folding his arms against his chest. "I came here…to…to apologize."

He looked so edgy that Reddler wanted to laugh out right in his face, but she kept a straight face and nodded him on.

"You must be finding my plans a little wild. I know you do. In fact, Butler is of the same opinion, even though he does not show it much. But you have to understand that I never disclose my plans entirely at a time," he drawled on in a professional monotone.

Reddler let out a bored breath.

"Ahem…but I do admit that the Sicily business was pretty close. And I should have told you, or at least warned you, of the dangers that we would be facing. And I should have listened to your opinion. For which I am sorry," he said.

Reddler looked him in the eye.

"That's what you're sorry for?"

"I suppose so."

Reddler said nothing, but just treated him to her best skeptical stare.

Stretching herself, Reddler had to admit that she felt a little better. She always did, after a hot shower. She had changed into a crisp lemon-green shirt and cargo pants, and felt comfortable. She went to the galley and fixed herself a sandwich and a hot drink. The room was deserted. She could faintly hear voices from somewhere up front. Finishing her meal, she made her way into the cramped lounge near the cockpit. Foaly was engaged in a game of chess with Artemis, and seemed to be losing. He let out a delighted whinny when she came in.

"Much fresher, kid," he said.

Reddler nodded, sitting down next to him. She watched the game somewhat distractedly, cupping her cheek in her hand.

"Reddler?" there was a swish, and Holly appeared from behind the newspaper she was holding.

"Yeah?"

"I've been meaning to ask you something for a long time. It's about..."

The cockpit door opened, and Butler came in with a cordless phone in his hand.

"Artemis? It's for you."

Artemis stood up and took the call in the galley. Reddler turned to Holly.

"You were saying…"

"Oh yes. It's a bit personal, so I don't really think I should bother."

Reddler gave a small laugh. "I doubt if I've got anything personal left, what with Fowl sifting through my records like a trawler. So go ahead, Holly."

"Um, after your friend Eric died…" she instantly became aware of the change in Reddler's eyes. "What of his family? His parents, are they…"

Reddler was silent for a while. "I don't know how to put this."

"You don't have to, kid," said Foaly gently.

"No, no it's nothing like that. It's just that…"

Flashback

Liége, Belgium: two years back

Daniel Blandish, thirteen, tall and darkly tanned, bit into his M&M and chewed it slowly as he took in the landscape around him. Thick green broadleaf forests waned into the distant mist, the cicadas clicking impatiently into the rapidly fading late afternoon light. It was an oddly serene place, the silent, grim forest yawning away for miles on both sides of the muddy road.

He frowned.

They were in the middle of nowhere. And night was fast approaching.

He got out of the car and turned to burgundy-haired girl sitting on the mud-streaked hood of Land Rover.

"Any luck?" he asked.

"Nope. I keep losing the uplink," she said.

Dan tapped the hood thoughtfully. "Must be all the forest cover," he said.

"Must be," came the reply. "Shit, shit…batteries are losing juice…come on!" she thumped the laptop in frustration, and in two seconds it turned blank and shut down.

"Damn!"

"Told you we should carry a map," chuckled Dan.

"We're not Neanderthals, for Pete's sake! This is the twenty-first century, and GPS shows us round." She took a deep breath, righting the strands of hair that fell over her face. "And maps give me a headache," she said, smiling.

Her friend laughed, stretching himself. "That admitted," he said. "I suppose we're on our own."

"Yeah."

The two of them were silent for a while, studying the towering greenery disappearing into the distance.

"Should they keep her this isolated? It's not like she's infectious or anything," said Reddler after a while.

"She could be dangerous."

"Yeah, but…"

"Or violent. We just don't know."

"It's just not right," said Reddler, her eyes on the muddy track.

Dan looked at her. It had almost been a year. Her voice was strong, but her eyes were still sad.

"Maybe we should just turn back," he said softly. "I think I remember the way."

"No way, Dan," she said firmly. "We can make it, I'm sure."

Dan peered into the distant stretches of the muddy blackness. He motioned Reddler to get down from the hood, and got into the car.

"All right, but let me drive for a bit. Maybe I'll get lucky," he said.

"You think?" said Reddler slyly. "You ended up in Liechtenstein on your own. I had to send a chopper to get you to Brussels."

"Oh, ha ha. You're cracking me up, Croft," he replied sulkily. "Now shut up. I need my mind on the road."

Reddler frowned at the specks of mud on her brand-new Fendi jacket. The muddy countryside was starting to get on her nerves. Eight hours of continuous driving made her eyes ache. And to top it off, the GPS had shorted out.

Great. Just great, she thought, closing her eyes.

Dan shook her awake half an hour later. She opened her eyes to meet a looming iron grille covered with Virginia creeper.

Dan drove round to the front gate, a horrendous black barricade in iron. Perched on it, in grotesque twists of metal was spelled Asile Winderhurst. Winderhurst asylum. Reddler shivered. Belgian architecture gone awry.

Dan pointed to a small sign tacked to the wall. Heures de visite, it said, in a neat print.

"I think we're late," said Dan, reading it. "Visiting hours end at noon." But he reached out and rang the buzzer anyway.

Two burly personnel, who looked as if they had no intention of letting even a flea in, came to the entrance gate. One them was about to say something, but he suddenly noticed the bumper sticker bearing the Symbiosis logo. He spoke to his partner in rapid French, and then the two of them proceeded to pull open the gate, which creaked as though it had been bolted into place.

Inside, they were shown into a large, heavily furnished office. Dan spoke to the director, showing him his ID. The man nodded, and stood up. He was polite and pleasant, but Reddler somehow felt that they weren't made very welcome. He led them downstairs through a series of heavy, three-inch thick steel doors and into a maze of corridors. Finally he stopped at a low wooden door, with a narrow pane of glass near the top.

"Ah, this must be the one," said the man, stepping aside for them to enter.

Reddler and Dan stepped into a small cubical cell, heavily padded from all sides. Reddler felt strangely claustrophobic in it.

But her attention darted to a small, shivering mass at the very corner of the room.

She paused for a minute before speaking.

"Mrs. Shaw?" she said softly.

The woman whirled around like a wild animal, her ragged hair falling all over her pale face.

"Gosh," breathed Dan, taking a step backwards.

Reddler didn't budge. She looked at the woman calmly. Her behavior affected the gaunt, tormented figure instantly.

"Hello, Reddler," she said, as if she had answered the door.

"Hello," said Reddler. "How are you feeling?"

"Cramped. I thought Europe was going to be luxurious. Boy, was I wrong," she said good-naturedly. Dan could hardly believe his ears. This was a top security asylum! He was uncomfortable, and showed it.

"Uh, hi, Mrs. Shaw," he said.

"Hello, Daniel. I thought you'd be taller."

"Oh?"

"Place really gets to you, I guess," she said, giggling like a schoolgirl. Reddler noted that her face had wrinkles. And she could see the hysteria in her eyes. It reminded her of Easton.

She smiled to herself for a long time, cocking her head side to side, making soft crooning noises. After a while, she suddenly spoke loudly and made them jump.

"Eric! Look at you, all muddy…for heaven's sake, don't ruin my carpet!" she said, glaring fiercely at Dan.

Dan gulped. "I-I'm Daniel, Mrs. Shaw…"

"…And that school of yours, sending you to god knows where! They'll be the end of you, my boy."

Reddler glanced at Dan uneasily. Dan knew that she was holding back her tears. He was about to lead her out of the room, when the cell was rocked by insanely raucous laughter. Reddler turned.

"I got you, yeah," said Mrs. Shaw, wiping her eyes. "Scared you out of your skin, huh? You're not my Eric. You can never be. Because my Eric is right here. He's safe with his momma."

"Huh?" said Reddler, puzzled.

"See? Here he is!" she screamed, brandishing a tattered baseball cap in her hands. It had been Eric's favorite cap; the one he always wore lopsided to amuse his best friend.

Reddler walked out of the cell, a lone tear falling down her cheeks. She felt sick to her stomach at that moment.

"She went mad," Reddler was saying. "She wouldn't recognize anyone at times…and then she set it on fire."

"Set what on fire?" asked Holly.

"The house. His dad. His sisters—Karen, Nicolette…burned them to death."

"Oh gods," breathed Holly.

Reddler wasn't aware of it, but behind her back stood Butler, guilt and doubt weighing him down more than ever.