Ok, I'd just like to say that adapting 'sorting grains for Aphrodite's pigeons in a temple' into a task for the People's Council was a real pain in the neck. But I'm having a lot of fun with the hunt for the golden fleece. Ha, anyway, on a total side note, I'm going to be blatantly partisan and say, belatedly: THANK YOU to everyone and anyone who voted for Obama in the US election. I wish we had managed to elect someone that useful too (Ew, Stephen Harper).

Chapter Seven: Ants in His Pants

No1 is waiting for him in the shuttle terminal. Leaving his bulked up bodyguards behind, the little demon skips up to the man, wrapping his arms around his waist, unable to reach higher. Artemis returns the hug earnestly, though unavoidably awkwardly, considering the height difference. He doesn't comment when he feels something small and flat being slid into his pants' back pocket.

'It's been ages!' says No1 gleefully, thrilled by the use of an idiom.

'It has,' Artemis agrees, crouching down to be at the demon's eye level. He finds that he is sincerely happy to see the verbose little warlock again.

'Well, actually, it's been exactly a decade,' No1 amends, 'but that feels like ages, doesn't it? Isn't that strange? And boy, have you grown. That must be so uncomfortable.'

Artemis swallows a chuckle. 'You get used to it,' he assures with gravity.

'Still,' says No1, 'it just seems so superfluous. Excessive.'

'Well, we are a race that loves living in excess,' Artemis acknowledges.

'Very true,' the demon shakes his head sadly.

'No1, what are you doing down here?' Wing Commander Vinyáya appears in the doorway.

'Visiting my friend,' No1 replies calmly, ignoring his bodyguards' uneasy shifting. No1 is perfectly aware that, no matter how the rest of the People feel about Artemis, no one will attempt to keep him from visiting the man, for fear of the apocalypse. No1 discovered early on that he was entirely comfortable with occasionally exploiting this fear for attending to important things. Like, say, future happiness of his two favourite people.

Vinyáya looks sceptical but doesn't comment, only gestures for Artemis to follow her. Mock-dutifully, he follows behind her, giving No1 a jaunty wave as they turn a corner.

Artemis and Vinyáya walk a ways in silence. It's not until they pass through a door and into what looks like catacombs that either speaks.

'No1 gave you what he calls an 'ant'. I'm not sure exactly what it is, some kind of No1 magic/Foaly technology hybrid. But it'll help you with the filing. Just tell it how you want things done and it'll organize that whole mess in no time,' Vinyáya speaks to the floor, not looking at him.

'And exactly how do I want things done?'

'It's nothing too bad. I've got a full list of instructions on a chip for you, but cross referenced by date, time, place, perpetrator and officers involved, that sort of thing. Plus, creating a search engine so that it's all easily accessible.'

'I must admit I'm surprised they're letting me anywhere near LEP files.'

Vinyáya laughs, 'It's a closed system. Every couple centuries Foaly has someone go down and dump any case files over five thousand years old into it manually. You won't even be seeing anything so recent as the birth of that man of yours, eh...' she snaps her fingers trying to remember, '... Christ. That's the one. I always confuse him with Confucius. Anyway, the databank is old, it's a mess, and it's absolutely huge. Truthfully, this whole system is just of those things that keeps getting pushed aside because there are so many more important, more interesting, things to do in the present.'

Artemis fingers the ant in his pocket. Search engines were easy enough, but that many files would take days to sort through. He smiles, beginning to understand their ploy. But honestly, trying to trap him with technology? Well, then they're nearly begging to be outwitted. 'Thank you,' he smiles at her.

She doesn't smile back, 'I'm doing it for her, not for you.'

'I know,' Artemis finds he really doesn't mind that the only thing these people like about him is Holly. He is fully willing to agree that she's far and away the best part of him. 'How is she?'

'Fine, unless you mess this up. In which case the surveillance footage will be leaked and she'll be more fried than a dwarf at midday.'

'Please, let's not be too subtle with our threats now.'

Vinyáya does smile then. 'Very, very rarely, Fowl, I can sometimes almost see why she likes you.'

Artemis laughs, and tries his luck, 'Will you tell her I'm here?'

She shakes her head. 'Not until you've finished. I don't want to get her hopes up.'

Fair enough.

'Aren't you worried that they'll know you're collaborating with the terrorist?' Artemis changes the subject.

'No. I mean, there're security cameras down here, but there's no sound and I've been speaking with my head down, you'll notice, so no lip reading. Though I doubt they'd even think of it. They're good at scheming, bullying, and throwing their weight around, but paranoia's not their forte, that's why they hired Foaly. Besides, they don't have the balls to accuse me. Not after what happened to Chairman Jood,' she smiles nastily.

Artemis decides not to comment, skipping forward instead to his next question, 'Are you telling me then that a centaur who wore a tin foil hat for the better part of his adult life has no sound on even one of his security cameras?'

Vinyáya shrugs, 'This whole basement is surrounded on all sides, and above, by active LEP and government offices. Foaly has every entrance and then some to this place smothered in security gadgetry. You're ID'd and cross-referenced fifty times before you even step into the hall, even if you were to step through one of the walls.

However, if, somehow, you were to tunnel underneath here, and by the way, the pressure in the earth below us would crush titanium like so many toothpicks, you'd still have to get through this maze and out through into the mainframe, so no one ever bothered to update the cameras back in the day.

Though, since no one really comes down here, everybody coming out is treated with utmost suspicion. We've had some really dreadful situations where poor junior techies come back up from dropping files of some sort and get whacked by the system. Trauma everywhere, let me tell you. They've even gone so far as to name the databank 'The Minotaur'.'

'I see.' Artemis frowns suddenly, 'What I don't understand is why Foaly didn't simply erase Holly from the footage at Minerva's.'

Vinyáya laughs humourlessly, 'He probably would have done, it's astonishing the things he'll let her get away with, but a couple of Councillors had come down to ask him if he knew where you'd disappeared to. They were hoping he'd, er, understand the gravity of the situation better if they came in person. Too bad you didn't wait ten minutes with those curtains, I doubt anyone would ever have known then. You've got some serious karmatic issues, Fowl.'

'Yes,' sighs Artemis, 'so I've been told.'

Vinyáya leaves Artemis in a windowless room occupied almost entirely by a massive plasma screen and a whirring computer. Slipping into the scruffy hover chair, he pulls out the ant and slides into the computer.

The screen comes alive and information flickers past him at an incredible pace. A video clip of No1 opens automatically and begins to play.

'Hello Artemis. Don't be apprehensive,' No1 takes obvious pleasure pronouncing 'apprehensive', 'the spell I've placed inside Foaly's gadget,' he chuckles, 'isn't that a wonderful word? Gadget. Mmm... ah, anyway, part of the spell identifies chemical makeup so I know it's you who's watching this recording. If you weren't you you'd have great big puss-filled boils popping up all over your face right now.' There's a noise in the background, a barely audible Foaly saying: 'hurry up!', No1 huffs, 'As I was saying, just type in your instructions and my spell will do everything else. Isn't that neat? I came up with it in less than an hour too. Good luck Artemis!' the demon waves and the screen closes.

Chuckling appreciatively, Artemis turns to the task at hand. Taking a minute to orientate himself on the Gnommish keyboard, he smiles to himself: here was something he could do in his sleep.