A/N: Hey! I knew if I was going to get stuck on a chapter in this fanfiction, this would be it. But I made it through somehow.
So, part of the reason I took so long this time is that I was well aware that many of you may hate this chapter. One, because it's another way-too-long intermediary chapter, two, there's some convoluted stuff that still doesn't make sense in spite of three years of grueling, headache-inducing rewrites, and three...well, there's this one character I understand isn't very popular.
Go easy on me, this has been the hardest chapter of this entire fanfiction. (With perhaps the exception of chapter 13, but...we'll get to that later.)
Chapter 10: Unwarranted Hostility
Holly's eyes flickered once again to the reading inside her visor. She would be reaching the manor soon, though she didn't need the the sophisticated maps beamed from various orbiting satellites to tell her that. She had been here so many times and traversed the familiar flight paths so often that she knew this route well.
Of course, neither she nor Artemis had seen much of the manor the past six months. Artemis had returned only twice, once barely a week after he was first admitted to Argon's clinic, much to the doctor's dismay, and the other time over Christmas. The last visit had gone relatively well, except for one freak accident in Dublin's shopping district, where the Complex flared up at an inconvenient moment, leaving Artemis and Butler separated amidst a thick crowd of last-minute Christmas shoppers. It took nearly an hour to track down the disoriented invalid. Understandably, Butler had wanted to put Artemis on a leash after that.
Now he's back at the manor again, Holly thought. Was he ready for it this time? Argon's reasoning about self-esteem had made sense to her, but both times Artemis had returned to the manor, Holly had worried, and those worries hadn't exactly turned out unjustified.
Holly shook her head, forcing her thoughts to return to the present.
Her eyes fell on the enormous estate that stretched out below her. With the manor's formidable high walls, leering stone gargoyles, and imposing guard towers, once she would have found a night fly over it creepy. But on the contrary, seeing the place now she felt reassured.
As in many previous visits, Holly automatically aimed for the upper window leading to the double-height entrance hall, and with a deft flick of her omnitool, slipped through. Her eyes quickly scanned the room, and she was a little surprised to find Artemis right away, standing in front of the broad oak staircase with his mother. His mother, and one other guest.
Holly frowned.
"I really am sorry I have to go so soon. But there is a biochemical engineering conference at the university back near the Chateau and I have been invited to speak."
"I quite understand," Artemis replied. "I am just glad you were able to come at all, Minerva."
Minerva Paradizo. Child prodigy, mastermind behind the kidnapping of Nº1, and, at least recently, the one person in the world Holly found more annoying than Artemis.
Minerva let a frustrated breath pass her lips. "I had a much easier time when my talents were still unknown," she admitted ruefully. Her brown eyes flickered to the ground, and Holly noticed she was wearing contacts for the occasion.
Artemis only smiled. "But you are able to do so much more with your impressive abilities this way," he noted. "You may yet have the Nobel Prize after all."
In response, Minerva smiled and said something in French.
Holly, thanks to her gift of tongues, understood what Minerva had said, and her frown deepened. But despite how blatantly sugary the compliment was, Artemis did not look inclined to gag.
"Merci, Mademoiselle," he responded, his accent flawless. "And fortunately, if you are feeling overtaxed at the moment, I have it on good authority that your father is working madly to clear out your calendar book for a month or two. It seems he's quite concerned about your health, and he thinks you might be able to unwind a little with the opportunity to get away to your favorite ski lodge."
"Dear Papa," Minerva said fondly. "He knows how much I simply adore skiing." The pair of them shared a crafty smile, like they were both in on a private joke. Holly's suspicions as a police officer were immediately aroused, and she wondered what new sinister plot they might be conjointly conspiring now.
Minerva leaned in and, in true French fashion, kissed Artemis on both cheeks. Then she turned to respectfully incline her head in the direction of Artemis's mother. "Thank you very much for having me, Mrs. Fowl. I appreciate your generosity."
Angeline beamed. "Thank you so much for coming, dear. We enjoyed having you."
Minerva turned and walked to the ornate entrance door, and met a pair of bodyguards waiting outside to escort her to her rented limousine. The instant the door swung closed, Angeline spun on her heel to face her son.
"What a nice girl," she gushed. "And so intelligent. You two have so much in common, Arty."
"Yes, thank you, Mother," he said, smiling wanly. "Believe it or not, your subtle, or should I say, not-so-subtle hints are not lost on me."
Angeline reached forward to straighten Artemis's tie, though it didn't particularly need straightening. "If only you got along with all the girls as well as you seem to get along with Miss Paradizo, you would be so popular. You know, Arty, most boys your age would be thinking a little more about girls and less about saving the world."
Artemis nodded, with just a hint of exasperation. "You have said all this before, Mother. I quite understand."
Angeline sighed. "I keep saying it because you haven't listened, Arty."
For the first time she noticed what she was doing and stopped.
"A suit and tie again!" she exclaimed with dismay. "So formal, even at your own welcome home party. Why don't you go put on something more casual?" Her eyes suddenly lit up. "I know, why not the shirt and trousers we got you for your birthday?"
Holly could have sworn Artemis paled. "Please, Mother. You wouldn't torture me so soon after I've finally returned home." He hesitated. "Mum."
"Buttering me up now won't save you forever, son," she said, though she couldn't help smiling. She sighed once, then patted his arm affectionately. "Well, I suppose we had better get back before your father starts to wonder where we wandered off to. Shall we go, Arty?"
"You go ahead," Artemis replied. "There is something I must check."
Angeline's smile flickered. "Something?"
Artemis waved a hand vaguely. "Yes. I will be along momentarily...Mum. You have my word as a Fowl."
Angeline regarded him with suspicion a moment longer before her mouth spread into a broad smile and she laughed.
"Word as a Fowl! You and your jokes, you're getting almost as bad as your father lately." She laughed again and shook her head. "Okay, Arty. I'll go finish whipping up some more snacks for Beckett, and meet you in the east drawing room. That boy, I've never seen such an appetite."
Artemis smiled. "Then I will see you there."
As Angeline left the room, it occurred to Holly that she could have unshielded when she had first entered the hall. Both Minerva and Angeline already knew the secret of the People. However, Holly still couldn't get used to the idea of Angeline Fowl being in the know, and things were a little awkward. Not to mention, she couldn't help but feel that just about anything was worth avoiding another conversation with Minerva Paradizo.
In any case, perhaps it was just as well she stayed concealed, as it gave Artemis the opportunity to show off.
"So, you were able to get away after all," he said. "It's good to see you so soon, Holly. I thought it might be a few weeks at the very least. How many regulations were you forced to disregard this time?"
Holly let down her shield, feeling distinctly that there was probably no use asking him how he did that.
"Don't underestimate me," she said nonchalantly. "If I have a place I want to be, I'm there. Besides, if I didn't make it out now, who knew when I'd get my next chance to be bombarded with a load of unintelligible science-geek jargon and sarcastic remarks."
Artemis's lips curled with amusement. "I see." He paused, then continued, "Well, I'm afraid you find us a small party tonight. The servants have all been sent home for a short holiday, and only Father, Mother, the twins, Butler, and Juliet are here. Juliet will certainly be happy to see you. From what I understand, she wanted to invite just about every fairy we've had any interaction with over the years, but Butler unilaterally vetoed the notion."
Holly smiled. She could well picture it.
Artemis went on, "At the moment, everyone is in one of the side drawing rooms, but I'm sure Butler and Juliet might easily slip away for a time. And Mother has been anxious to meet you."
Holly coughed and made a noncommittal sound at the back of her throat. "Maybe another time. Actually—the thing is, Artemis, I'm here on LEP business, and I'll need to be getting back before long."
A flicker of emotion passed across Artemis's face, but then it was gone. "Ah, I see," he said, smiling a little. "Business."
Holly hesitated, irresolute as her conscience pricked her. However, she couldn't think of anything to say, so she plowed on, "The LEP is completely swamped right now. But the fairy in charge of taking care of the goblin-and-demon problem is hoping you'll have an idea about what to do. Strictly off the record, of course."
Artemis really did smile then, chuckling a little. "I take it your direct superior in this case is not Commander Kelp."
"Definitely not."
Artemis nodded. "I have indeed been putting some thought into the matter."
"I don't know if you're aware of this," Holly added. "But there's some new information that's come to light recently that I should probably tell you about."
"I would appreciate that. As you know, even the greatest intellect can only go so far in compensating for a deficit in information."
This comment with all its annoyingly unnecessary sophisticated vocabulary and usual implied egotism was probably meant to elicit an irritated smile from Holly, but by then her mind had slipped away, trying to organize what she knew she ought to say as guilt needled her. They were both silent a minute.
Artemis glanced at the door behind him. "Would you mind terribly if you had to wait here a few minutes? I should probably retrieve my laptop, where Juliet has hidden it in the conference center. I've been using it to track the LEP's progress, and I think we can find something to help your commanding officer. But before that, Mother is expecting me, and I imagine if I keep her waiting too long she will come back and scold me for my poor manners."
Holly stirred from her thoughts. "Don't you mean 'Mum'?" she said, smirking.
Artemis sighed, rubbing his temples. "Yes...I find it amazing one simple word can be the source of such stress."
"You'll get used to it," Holly said, still grinning. Then she added curiously, "Juliet hid your laptop?"
Artemis smiled. "Yes. She attempted to conceal everything to do with my work the moment I stepped over the threshold. But I always know where my things are." He tapped the ostentatious ruby ring on his finger, where he hid his fairy communicator and virtual diary, and Holly supposed he must have added some kind of tracker in there.
Holly shook her head. "Poor Juliet. She tries so hard." She shrugged. "Well then, I guess I have no choice. You're the person everyone wants to talk to tonight, so I'll wait my turn."
Artemis dipped his head in mock formality and gestured at an oxblood leather sofa and assortment of armchairs nearby, his lips curling in an ironic smile. "I'll be back with you shortly, Captain. In the meantime, please feel free to make yourself comfortable."
"Artemis Fowl, ever the hospitable host," Holly said dryly as she started for the couch. She pulled off her helmet and situated herself on the nearest end. However, she found she was too small to lean against the back without her calves sticking out at an uncomfortable angle, so she put her boots up and turned so her back was against the armrest.
Holly heard the creak of floorboards as Artemis turned away behind her. She tensed. In an uncertain, almost faltering voice, she said, "Artemis?"
His retreating footsteps paused. Holly hesitated. She knew she had to say something, but didn't yet have any idea how to say it.
The circumstances under which she had made this trip felt wrong somehow. It couldn't be right for her to come zipping down here less than a day after her friend got out of the hospital only to say, 'Hope you're getting better—oh by the way, fix this problem for us.' She should say something encouraging and heartfelt now, something that would show him she was more interested in his wellbeing than in using his genius to solve their every difficulty.
But of course, only the generic, useless phrases from the Atlantis Complex book ran through her head. "Always remember that you're important to all of us." "We're all here to support you." "Don't worry, everything will turn out all right in the end."
"Yes, Holly?" Artemis prodded gently.
Holly held her helmet between her knees, staring down at its surface. She could just make out a warped, distorted view of her own face reflected back at her, broad and overstretched in some places, cramped and crushed in others.
"I'm sorry," she said, tone almost offhanded. "I didn't mean for it to be like this. I know it's stupid to come to something like this and ask for favors."
Artemis chuckled. "Before I went to stay belowground for longterm treatment, we rarely met other than when in the midst of some dire strait which I was needed to correct. To have had it otherwise now would mark a serious break in tradition."
His glib attitude stung. "I was planning to come anyway if I could," Holly said before she had time to think about it. Her eyes stayed fixed on her helmet.
A heartbeat of silence followed. When Artemis spoke, he sounded almost puzzled. "...I know."
Again they were both quiet, until it was broken by the sound of a voice wafting back from the other room.
"Arty, where are you? How much longer will you be?"
"Coming, Mother," Artemis called back, then said to Holly, "I really must go now. I will see you in a moment."
Holly listened to the sound of his footfalls fade, until she was left alone in the dim lamplight of the entrance hall.
When he was gone, Holly's face twisted into a frown. She tapped a fist against her forehead, frustrated with herself.
She gazed down at her reflection again, and found her mismatched eyes staring back at her. They appeared oddly skewed now, misaligned by the shape of the helmet, as though they didn't belong together.
Holly glared, then lifted her gaze to the collection of potted plants sitting in the corner. One of the plants sat atop a deep oak grandfather clock, its creepers tumbling over the edge, twisting back and forth like light green curls of hair.
Holly's scowl slowly softened into a look of contemplative melancholy. She wondered if Minerva would have known what to say if she had been here, in Holly's place.
Holly closed her eyes again. Irresistibly her mind drifted back to a few months ago, to that conversation she'd had with the Mud Girl in the waiting room of Dr. Argon's clinic. The conversation that had continuously repeated itself in her mind all these months, even as she tried to forget it.
Dr. Argon's Clinic, Almost Three Months Earlier
Holly heard a dull clank and she bent to retrieve the energy drink from the vending machine. The metallic surface was cool against her fingers and she pressed it to her cheek, feeling the condensation on the outside cling to her skin.
Holly was now standing in front of the beverage dispenser in the primary waiting room of Dr. Argon's clinic. The usual desk secretary was currently out to lunch—apparently the little pixie's general state of existence—and the place was completely deserted except for Holly. Well, Holly and one other person. Unfortunately.
Holly tapped the side of her drink in agitation, keeping her eyes resolutely trained on the green bull troll stamped on the side.
"Captain Short?" said a tentative voice, breaking the silence.
Holly's back stiffened. She stared doggedly at the drink a moment longer, then at last reluctantly turned her head to make eye contact.
"...Yes?" Holly said guardedly.
Through one eye, Holly studied the sixteen-year-old human girl. When Minerva Paradizo was twelve years old, she had been moderately pretty. Now as a teenager she was almost painfully attractive, not unlike a young lawyer or skilled lab technician in a crime drama. She was a few inches taller now, her previously round and childlike facial features having taken on the slightly more angular look of an adult. She had grown out her blond hair so that it fell in waves down her back, and the bookish-looking glasses had been replaced with more sophisticated semi-frameless ones. The change wrought by just three years was a little unnerving.
"When Artemis finishes his afternoon drug therapy and he is allowed visitors, perhaps you would like to see him first," Minerva suggested. "As a police officer, I'm sure your time is somewhat limited. And the shuttle that is to return me to the surface is not leaving until tomorrow morning regardless."
Holly continued to gaze at Minerva evenly, trying to figure out what she was thinking. Holly had arrived at the clinic after Minerva, so etiquette would generally dictate that Minerva would go before her. The offer was quite considerate. However, the last thing Holly wanted was to feel indebted to this girl, and she couldn't help but suspect some ulterior motive anyway.
Holly's eyes drifted down. "You go ahead," she said. "I have just as much time today as you do."
Minerva was quiet for a moment. "...Very well," she said at last, her tone subdued. "I don't think I will be long."
Holly cracked the lid on her drink. She didn't know all the details, but apparently when Minerva had heard what happened to Artemis, she had begged Butler to find a way to let her see him. It seemed Butler and Minerva had become quite good friends while Holly and Artemis were gone in Limbo, and he simply couldn't refuse, so eventually Butler had pulled some strings as he had for Angeline. Of course, Holly had had no idea of this scheme, and with her usual luck happened to come down to the clinic for her normal weekly visit on the same day as Minerva.
Holly couldn't help herself, and turned her head to sneak another glance at the Mud Girl seated behind her. Minerva was acting quite a bit different from what Holly remembered. In the short time Holly had spent in Minerva's vicinity while trying to rescue Nº1, she had come to view her as the archetypal spoiled rich girl: precocious, conceited, and never happy unless she got her way. In other words, it was easy to see why Artemis had taken such an interest in her; the pair could practically have been twins in another life. But so far Minerva had been nothing but polite and hadn't dropped so much as one snide remark. In fact, as Holly gazed at the girl sitting in her too-small chair, her shoulders hunched, her head bowed and her face pale and drawn, Holly thought she looked like she was about to be sick.
Ever since Artemis had gone out of his way to save Minerva's life from the manic Billy Kong, Minerva had idolized him as a kind of great heroic figure. So Holly supposed hearing that Artemis had fallen ill from a mental illness of all things must have come as a shock.
Holly probably should have been sympathetic, but she couldn't help but think Minerva was being just a bit melodramatic. For Frond's sake, from the look on her face, one would think Artemis was on his deathbed.
"Captain?" Minerva said again quietly.
Holly rolled her eyes. "What?" she muttered.
Minerva didn't answer. At last Holly's curiosity got the better of her, and she turned to look at Minerva over her shoulder again.
Minerva was staring at her hands clasped in her lap, her shoulders trembling slightly, her eyes gleaming with what might be tears.
Oh please, Holly thought. Guess I need to be more gentle with the poor, delicate princess.
Minerva closed her eyes and took a deep breath to steady herself. "I..." she began at last. "I think I owe you an apology."
Whatever Holly had been expecting, that wasn't it. "What?"
Minerva's voice shook slightly, but she forced herself to continue. "I know it was all my fault. My childishness concerning Mr. Kong forced you into going to the demon world too soon. If Artemis had been allowed time to make the correct preparations, you could have located the temporal coordinates with greater accuracy upon your return. You wouldn't have jumped ahead three years, and so Artemis would never have needed to mesmerize his own parents. And if not for the guilt of such a thing, he probably never would have ended up in this place."
Holly gaped at her, stunned. Holly would have as soon expected an apology from Leon Abbot or Billy Kong. And if Holly was hearing this right, Minerva wasn't just apologizing for the Hybras affair and the missed three years, but for Artemis's Atlantis Complex itself.
Holly didn't know what to say. "What happened to, 'Harboring feelings of guilt can have a negative effect on mental health'?" she asked at last.
Minerva's eyes flickered up to meet Holly's for a moment, then dropped back down to her lap. "I know I said that once," she said in a low voice. "I once considered dwelling on past mistakes a pointless inconvenience, harmful to the self. But over these three years I've come to discover there are some things you simply can't forgive yourself for."
For the first time, Minerva's lips turned up in an almost-smile, but it was hard with irony. "You see, Captain Short, if what caused your trouble was related to my ambition to win the Nobel Prize, or my ignorance of the intelligence of demons, I'm sure I could have easily rationalized it all. But the mistake I made that was the starting point of all that followed was absolutely pointless. I didn't act on my intellect, but indulged a infantile vindictiveness toward Kong. I could easily forgive myself for misguided ideals, even if it meant the entire race of demons was wrongfully locked away in zoos or slaughtered—but I cannot forgive myself for pure idiocy. Oh, how much you must despise me. I cannot even think how much I would despise myself were I in your place."
Inappropriate as it was, Holly suddenly had to fight the urge to laugh. It was all starting to make sense. Minerva didn't hate herself for what had happened to Holly and Artemis or for putting the world at risk, but for being stupid. That was just the logic of geniuses, she supposed.
Still, Holly thought it was a bit of a stretch for Minerva to take all the blame for the entire Hybras fiasco on herself. The whole thing had just been a string of chaos and confusion, and who knew how things would have turned out even if she hadn't gone over to taunt Kong. And Artemis's Atlantis Complex, where did she get off taking responsibility for that?
Holly felt an unusual knot of irritation form in her stomach. Clearly Minerva just wanted to take all the blame on herself and play out some kind of personal drama of despair at Artemis's illness. Maybe she even thought that letting herself be consumed by guilt would somehow put her on the same wavelength as Artemis, as though her sense of remorse for her past could compare to his.
Holly knew she should probably say something to try to alleviate Minerva's conscience and make her feel better. Hey, look, Mud Girl. I appreciate you've been thinking about this. But to be honest, I never really thought about you where Hybras was concerned. It had to happen, and it did. We saved the demons, we came back. As for taunting Kong like you did—yeah, it was a stupid thing to do. Totally stupid. But that happens to everyone. Look at Artemis, once he got outsmarted by some sleazy American industrialist, and Butler got shot and now he'll never be a hundred percent again. Even geniuses do dumb things. The important thing is to get over it and move on with your life.
However, Holly said nothing. She doesn't want to hear it, Holly thought. She wants to blame herself. For Hybras, for the Complex, for everything.
Minerva gazed back at Holly briefly, before her gaze dropped again. "I understand," she said in a low, quiet voice. "Don't worry, I...understand."
Holly continued to gaze at her steadily, and her irritation didn't abate. That's right, she thought coldly. Just keep being the victim. The rest of us will focus on Artemis.
Neither said anything more, and the silence was only interrupted when one of the many sprite nurses who worked for Dr. Argon emerged from one of the side hallways.
"You may see Mr. Fowl now," she said.
Minerva looked sick and shaky. She climbed unsteadily to her feet and without a word followed the nurse back down the hall toward Artemis's room.
Holly stared after them a minute. When Minerva was gone from sight, Holly pressed the drink to her face again, hard. Shivers shot down her spine and she grimaced at the cold, but she didn't pull away, feeling like she deserved it.
"What are you doing?" she muttered. "You're being a jerk."
Holly strode over to the main waiting area and fell heavily into a seat. She dropped her drink with a hard clunk on a nearby coffee table and, letting out a sharp, angry breath, rubbed at the sleepless bags beneath her eyes.
A mixture of feelings clouded Holly's thoughts. She was beginning to feel guilty. And feeling guilty about Minerva put her in an uncommonly bad mood.
It was true, some people did take delight in feeling miserable, blaming themselves for everything and wallowing in self-pity. But even if that was the case, Minerva had apologized openly and honestly. And if Holly was irritated with Minerva for acting so subdued, showing her feelings of pain and guilt instead of concealing them, then what was to stop Holly from condemning Artemis in the same way, get impatient and irritated with his new tendency to dwell on his guilt, to be consumed by the dark emotions no doubt churning in his mind?
Unsettled by this train of thought, Holly climbed back to her feet and wandered back to the drink dispenser. She gazed at the thin sheet of plexiglass and her reflection staring back at her.
I'm not myself, she thought, looking back into the hard, unrelenting eyes. I don't know who this person is.
Holly didn't know how long she waited. She sipped at her drink and restlessly paced back and forth. At last she heard shoes clicking on linoleum, and Holly turned to see Minerva re-enter the waiting room. A little of the color had returned to her face, and she seemed to have regained her usual aura of cool authority.
"Went well?" Holly asked.
Minerva glanced back at her, perhaps surprised at Holly's sudden civility. "I suppose so," she said. "Well enough. In fact, he was so generous that I was a little disappointed."
Holly raised an eyebrow. "What, were you hoping he would yell and make you feel like the scum of the earth?"
Minerva almost smiled. "Perhaps. I told you, guilt has a negative effect on mental health."
"No kidding."
Minerva strode across the waiting room toward the exit. Holly blinked, a little startled. She had expected Minerva to be here all day, until they took her back to the surface. It seemed like a lot of effort for such a relatively short visit.
Holly started to turn back to her drink, but froze as an unpleasant thought struck her. She didn't particularly like Minerva, but the girl was a prodigy, and one stricken by a guilty conscience at that. Holly couldn't see through the murky fog that was the Atlantis Complex, or understand what Artemis was thinking, but maybe Minerva could.
"Hey," Holly said suddenly. "What do you think?"
Minerva paused, and turned her head partway around. "What do I think about what?"
Holly fidgeted. "I mean, how did he seem to be doing to you?"
Minerva looked back at Holly for a moment. "Can't you go see that for yourself?" she asked. She started to turn back.
Holly gritted her teeth. "You're supposed to be a genius. Three steps ahead of everyone else and all that. Are you going to tell me you didn't analyze every little sigh and gesture while you were in there, and come up with some kind of theory?"
Minerva paused, and her lips flickered in a smile. "Perhaps one or two," she relented.
"So spit them out."
Minerva turned fully around, and Holly could definitely see amusement glittering in her eyes.
"Is that how you always ask someone for a favor?"
"What favor?" Holly answered, coloring. "I just asked you a question."
"You asked me 'how I think Artemis is doing.' Which, unless I'm very much mistaken, will lead to whether I think he is making any progress, from there what I think his friends should be doing to help, from there what you might do—what you're looking for, Captain Short, is advice. And giving advice in a delicate situation like this one is taxing, even for a genius. I think I would call that a favor."
Holly tapped her finger against the side of her drink impatiently. "Well, don't you owe us a favor?"
Minerva gave a real laugh for the first time. "Playing on my sense of guilt now, I see. Very good manipulative tactic; I've underestimated you, Captain Short."
Holly's annoyance flared, and she was about to tell Minerva to forget it then, but to her surprise, the Mud Girl strode back across the waiting room and situated herself on the same beige armchair as before.
"Very well," said Minerva. "I can spare a few minutes. If only to pay my debt, and to amuse myself."
Minerva leaned back in her chair, folding her hands in her lap. "Let's start from the beginning. What do we know about Artemis's illness?"
Holly hesitated. "It's caused by guilt and stress," she offered at last. "It's made him obsessed with the number five, and suspicious of all of us. It also got him interested in global warming." Holly grimaced, adding, "And it created Orion."
Minerva nodded. "Compulsions, paranoia, an obsessive drive for acts of grand altruism. And in stage two, multiple personalities. Those are all the common symptoms."
When Minerva didn't continue immediately, Holly tapped her finger against her drink again. "So? We know that. But what can we do about it? What does Artemis want us to do about it?"
Minerva raised a thin pale eyebrow. "Have you tried asking him?"
Holly scowled. "Yeah, well. He isn't exactly the kind of person to ask for help when he needs it, is he? If he'd talked to Butler or someone else about whatever he was going through months ago, we wouldn't be in this mess."
Minerva's brown eyes seemed to sharpen. She leaned forward, studying Holly with a cool, analytical gaze, resting her chin on a delicate hand in thought.
"Captain Short," Minerva said suddenly. "Let's speak frankly, why don't we?"
Holly blinked, taken aback. Nightmarish visions of a conversation she didn't want to have with anyone, let alone Minerva Paradizo, sprung to her mind. "What do you mean?" she asked carefully.
Minerva's eyelids sank to a deadpan. "As you said, I am a genius. And I think it's fairly obvious that you wouldn't be here asking for my advice if you didn't believe there to be the possibility of an approaching calamity. That something terrible may come of all this if we fail to act."
"Oh." Holly's shoulders sank slightly with relief. She stared at her drink for a long moment, and at last she sighed. "You're right," she admitted. "I don't know what it is, but—I keep having this feeling like things aren't what they seem. Like Artemis is worse off than he lets on."
"So you are convinced that Artemis is not telling you the truth," Minerva supplied. "That beneath the implacable facade of improvement he is falling into despair, and if we're not careful, he may pass a point beyond which there is no return."
Holly fidgeted. "Something like that."
Minerva studied Holly carefully for a long minute. At last she said, "Have you ever heard of the Freudian principle of psychological projection?"
Holly shook her head. "Not that I remember."
Minerva leaned back slowly in her chair. "Never mind, then. For now." She paused, then continued, "I did study Artemis when I went to see him. He's a difficult person to read, but—to be perfectly honest, Captain Short, I rather suspect there is more basis for your fears than any of the others would guess."
Holly felt her heartbeat speed up. Minerva agreed with her. She wasn't just imagining things.
Minerva went on, "We know the Complex was caused by feelings of intense guilt, so no matter how he appears on the surface, I think it's safe to assume that he is in a perpetual state of emotional turmoil. That turmoil—depression, anxiety, fear—may fade to the back of his mind much of the time, but it is still in the background, ready to flare up during times of weakness, leaving Artemis in a generally oppressed state of mind. Artemis is stable at the moment; that's not an illusion. But I think it's a fragile stability. A single setback could easily send him spiraling back to the state he was, and deeper."
Holly jumped on this. "So, he does need our help, even if he won't admit it. He has things he needs to open up and talk about, but can't. So that's our job. To get him to talk."
Minerva sighed. "Is that your solution to everything? Talking?"
"What's wrong with that?"
Minerva's lips flickered in a brief smile. "Well," she said, "maybe talking is something that would help. But perhaps it isn't Artemis who needs to do the talking."
Holly's frown deepened. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Minerva tapped a finger on her armrest. "I asked you a moment ago if you knew what the Freudian principle of projection is. Well, Freud believed that humans have a tendency to reject negative qualities in themselves, and in so doing, project them onto others. Of course, there are many flaws in Freud's theories—I've published several papers on the subject—but I've always thought there may be a grain of truth in that one. Although maybe it would be more accurate to say we have a tendency to see most clearly those flaws in others which also reside in great measure in the self."
Holly was silent.
"Captain Short," said Minerva. "You think Artemis would improve if he opened up and talked about his problems. His fears, his insecurities. All this time, you've had the instinctual sense that Artemis is lying to you, that he's putting up a mask of being perfectly fine when really below the surface his mind is in a state of disarray, of despair. What you can't admit is that perhaps the reason you are able to see that is that your own mind is in precisely the same state. Plagued by turmoil at its edges, sitting on a precarious stability."
Holly said nothing. She felt something cold in her stomach. A bead of sweat broke out on her temple, and she felt like something heavy was pressing against her chest.
Holly shook her head and got her bearings. "This isn't about me. It's about Artemis. I'm worried about him, that's all. The only thing I have to be in turmoil about is the fact that I see a friend suffering in front of me, and I can't seem to do anything about it."
Minerva shrugged. "Perhaps that is all I'm seeing in you. I may be a genius, but I can't read your mind." She paused, then added softly, "But perhaps there's something else. Something you yourself feel guilty about."
Holly made a sharp noise of irritation in the back of her throat and looked away.
They were both silent for a long moment, and at last Minerva sighed again. "But, maybe I'm mistaken," she said. "Perhaps I'm overreaching. But it would certainly make things easier. It would give us an avenue of attack."
Holly stared at her, wondering if this might be her strange genius sense of humor talking. "An avenue of—what?"
Minerva shook her head, smiling slightly. But instead of explaining herself, she said abruptly, "Tell me, Captain Short, have you ever read The Art of War?"
First Freud, now this, Holly thought crossly. This is why I hate talking to geniuses.
"No," she said testily. "And would it be too much to ask what that has to do with Artemis?"
Minerva removed her glasses and calmly cleaned them on the hem of her silk shirt. "What we're trying to do here is very much like a battle, Captain Short. Artemis is a born tactician, and now he is fighting a war against the Atlantis Complex, the guilt of his past, and the fears lurking in his own mind. Because he always thinks several moves ahead, he has set up multiple lines of defense. In the past, Artemis may have opened himself up a little, made mention of his own personal feelings on something sensitive. But now he fears his army is too weak, and so he won't let anyone inside his camp. He knows an enemy could easily destroy him."
"But we aren't his enemies," Holly argued. "We're trying to help him."
Minerva shook her head slowly, then gazed at Holly with sharp, knowing eyes. "Artemis is weak right now, and so even a well-meaning friend could turn into an enemy in a moment, who, from the moment of stepping within the camp boundaries, may inadvertently burn it to the ground. His sense as a general won't allow him to take such a risk."
Holly shook her head. "Okay. But how does thinking of it that way help Artemis?"
Minerva smiled. "Once you understand Artemis's silence as a defensive strategy, it's possible to come up with a counterstrategy. One to slip through those defenses, defeat him so to speak, then form an alliance against the Atlantis Complex."
Holly was still dubious, but she had to admit she was just a little intrigued. "So what is your strategy, then?"
Minerva laughed. "My strategy now, is it? This isn't my battle. It's yours. And that of all of Artemis's closest friends. I'm just giving you some advice."
Holly rolled her eyes. "Considering I can't even figure out what that advice is, I'd say it's pretty lousy."
Minerva idly twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "Didn't you say you thought talking was the key? Talking things out, getting Artemis to open up. I'd say it's fairly straight forward."
Holly tapped her fingers against the side of her drink again in a steady rhythm. "Let me get this straight. Presuming that I did have some kind of—of little thing going on. Turmoil, precarious stability, whatever. Are you saying I should just walk into Artemis's room right now and start spilling my guts about all my own problems, and hope that somehow makes him want to talk about his?"
Minerva laughed again. "Heavens, no. You really haven't read The Art of War. You can't just march into battle at any moment; impatience has doomed many a well-planned campaign. Timing is everything."
Holly rubbed her temples. "So I'm supposed to think of something magically poignant to say, and trot it out at the right moment."
"You could put it that way."
Holly nodded. "Artemis's sanity is doomed. I better stick to putting up my pension for part of the medical expenses and leave my contribution at that."
Minerva eyed Holly for a long moment. At last she shook her head. "You are a very stubborn person, Captain Short."
"Thanks."
Minerva climbed to her feet.
Holly blinked, startled. "Are you going?"
Minerva nodded. "I think I've given all the advice I can. You can do with it whatever you would like."
"But—" Holly started to protest, but paused, not sure how to finish.
Minerva turned back a moment. "Perhaps I can give you one more thing. Though a police officer such as yourself may find it a bit pessimistic and, even worse, philosophical."
Holly toyed with the opener on the top of the can. "What is it?"
Minerva didn't look at Holly, but stared straight ahead, as though seeing something Holly couldn't. "You intend to talk. You want him to open up, and let his friends in. But you might want to be careful. The reasons Artemis doesn't want to tell anyone what's in his mind may be more than simply an aversion to weakness, or a fear of injury to himself. You have been raised to always seek out the truth, and to believe that all will be well when you find it. But the reality is that often the truth turns out to be hiding something hideous. Artemis, in his paranoid, weakened state, may well fear betrayal by those closest to him. But if his severe sense of guilt is any indication, he fears his own betrayal of his friends far more."
Silence filled the empty waiting room. Holly gazed down into her drink, the turgid green liquid swirling quietly, like a stormy sea on a dark night.
At last Holly lifted her eyes. "And is that everything you have to say?"
Minerva nodded. "That is everything."
"Right. Well...thanks, I guess. Though I feel like I don't know any more than when we started."
Minerva's lips flickered in a hint of a smile again. "Nothing in this world is certain, Captain Short. You'll learn that eventually. Understanding that is the first step to finding truth, whatever it is."
Holly drained the rest of her drink and tossed the can in a nearby recycler. "Thanks for the lecture. See, this is why you and I can't get along, Mud Girl. You're too much like Artemis."
Minerva smiled at this, and her eyes glinted a little mischievously behind her glasses. "Oh, I know. That's why I wanted to get to know him better back before he went to Hybras, even though I'd never had much of an interest in boys before. And I find your rather unwarranted hostility a tremendous source of hope, by the way."
Holly decided not to reply to that.
Minerva turned and headed toward the exit. "Well, it has been nice talking to you, Captain Short," she said, "in spite of your somewhat disagreeable attitude. I will be dearly hoping that Artemis may make a swift recovery."
Minerva ducked her head slightly as she made to pass through the doors. But she hesitated there a moment. Her long blond curls hung about her face as she turned her head back to look at Holly over her shoulder.
"You should cheer up," she said, smiling. "I told you, this is all just like a battle. And I hear no one knows their way around a battlefield better than the two of you. Isn't that right, Captain?"
Holly blinked, then sighed as she leaned forward until her forehead rested against the top of her helmet.
Slip through his defenses. Form an alliance.
That still doesn't mean I know what I need to do.
Holly was jolted from her thoughts by the tinkling of breaking glass in a distant room. She lifted her head, automatically directing her elfin hearing in the direction of the sound, and a moment later she could hear the unmistakable tones of Artemis Fowl Senior, laced with anger and fear.
"What is that?"
Holly was instantly jamming her helmet back on and buzzing up her shield, platinum Neutrino handgun out of its holster and at the ready. It was probably nothing to get excited about. Perhaps Beckett had brought in a poisonous snake or decided to show off his personally fertilized worm farm. She'd heard of the little Fowl causing more trouble than that.
However, Holly found herself moving, out of the entrance hall and down a long corridor lined with nineteenth century oil paintings. Her soldier's instincts were buzzing.
If one of the Mud People see me, my badge will probably be on a one-way ticket to Trub's desk by tomorrow, she thought with dismay. But she supposed that was just part of the job.
Holly came to a stop just outside an ornate door. She had never been in this particular room before, but elfin hearing was highly acute and she was certain this was the source of the commotion.
Holly stood perfectly still, listening hard. All was oddly silent, but for the beating of thundering hearts. One, two, three, four, five—
Holly paused. The sound of a fairy's heartbeat compared to that of a Mud Man was very distinctive. Most of the hearts were definitely Mud Men, but in the mix she heard a lighter, more familiar rhythm. A fairy.
Holly let down her shield for an instant to gingerly turn the brass knob. She could hear her own heart beating in her ears. A fairy wasn't supposed to be here. And certainly not in the same room with Artemis Fowl Senior.
Holly twisted her neck and drew her shield back up again. Gun at the ready, she shouldered open the door.
The room was one of the manor's many drawing rooms, probably used to entertain guests back in the days of Lord Hugo Fowl. A cheerful hearth glowed warmly in the corner, and tapestries detailing the Fowl family history hung from the walls. A modern snack bar had been added to the back, and an enormous flat screen television sat nestled in a mahogany stand, at the moment hooked up to a game box with several controllers.
In front of the television stood Juliet, Beckett, and apparently a reluctant Butler, while Myles sat off to the side with an elaborate Popsicle-stick model building. Mr. and Mrs. Fowl stood at the back entrance to the room next to the snack bar, a pair of crystalline champagne glasses laying in shards at their feet. However, all eyes were fixed on the hearth in the corner.
Beckett was the first to speak. He pointed a pudgy finger and announced, "Dinosaur."
Holly stared numbly. That's not possible, said the logical side of her brain. The chances of an encounter like this had to be astronomical. Yet here things were, defying rationality yet again.
Holly pressed a button on her suit, requesting emergency backup. Not that they'd be here soon enough to do any good.
Here we go again, Holly thought, then stepped into the room.
A/N: If it's possible for an electronic text document on an eight-by-eleven laptop to commit first degree murder, I'm pretty sure this one nearly did. (On the bright side, at least now I have an exciting survival story I can tell at social events.)
Well, the editing on this chapter has definitely been an experience. I originally wrote the first draft of this chapter back in late 2011, and it went through so many complete overhauls and rewrites I've lost track. Pinning down the core concepts to what I wanted them to be (and not spending 14000 words+ developing them) was an interesting (if often migraine-inducing) challenge.
On a random note. Page 275 of TLC (US edition), the 'harboring feelings of guilt can have a negative affect on mental health' quote. I noticed that, in the version I was using at least, the word 'affect' was used. But I always learned that it should be 'effect' in that situation. That is, I don't think 'affect' can be a noun, just a verb. (Even though I think 'effect' can be both a verb and a noun, the verb has a slightly different meaning than 'affect.' If you 'effect change' you are putting a change into effect, but if you 'affect change,' then you are simply having some kind of influence on the change that's happening.) Although, I suppose sometimes they change the official meaning of words to accommodate how people use the language, so the two might have been made to be interchangeable now, who knows. (I'm going to change it and use the word 'effect' anyway, whenever this quote comes up.)
Well then, next chapter...dun dun dun! Finally, the actions starts. I like working on the slower, more internal, day-by-day/what's-been-happening-the-last-six-months kind of stuff, character exploration and emotional tension (I so wish in The Last Guardian [SPOILER WARNING] that Colfer had gone off on a lot more tangents and made them longer, such as in Foaly's relationship with Caballine, and Holly's experience as a kid with her father, and more about the lives of the fairies and humans in the distant past [SPOILER END]), but at the same time, I feel great at this point when the framework has all been set up and things actually start happening. (Of course, action may not be my forte, so when you start reading it, ironically you might be thinking, 'Okay, take us back to the long internal monologues and what-Holly-had-for-breakfast stuff, please.')
Anyway, thanks so much for reading and staying with me this long! (You don't need to read the author's notes.) If you get a chance, please comment and let me know what you think. Things you liked? Didn't like? Could be better written? I'm always curious what your response is. :J
Posted 5/25/15