A/N: This chapter is not in the diary format, mainly because the diary format is too tiresome to maintain with a plot, and I have things to do, man. I thought I would let you know now that it will appear occasionally, but will not be the primary format of this story. Just thought you should know that now.
I will stop talking now and let you read.
"Artemis." The intercom buzzed a little, despite Artemis II's efforts to make it sound as clear as possible. It is most probably a fact that intercoms will always buzz until the end of time. "Artemis, please come down to the drawing room. There is an urgent matter to which you must attend."
Artemis Fowl III, lying on the bed with headphones on and journal in hand, groaned. It wasn't that she minded her father taking such an impersonal approach as to install an intercom throughout the house. No, she was fine with that. The further she distanced herself from her father, the better. It was bad enough she shared a name with him.
People often asked why she, a girl, was named after her father. She liked to say that she had been born a boy, but had a sex change when she was twelve and never wanted to change the name. She said this mostly to alienate her largely wealthy and conservative neighborhood.
The truth was that her mother refused to bear more than one child. She, influenced by her mother-in-law, was convinced there were far too many human beings for this earth to sustain and that every possible measure should be taken to ensure the human population declines, hopefully without the employment of genocide. What else was there to do but refrain from bearing children? Better to adopt and reduce the number of parent-less children while reducing the human population a little at a time. It was killing two birds with one stone.
But Artemis II wanted a child; specifically, a child that had his blood running through its veins – figuratively speaking, of course. And, even more specifically, he wanted this child to have his name, plus one Roman numeral. So their first and only biological child was to be named Artemis Fowl III, and it was only chance misfortune that it was born with ovaries.
But she was definitely his child. If one looked past the dark mascara and eyeliner, one would see that she had fairly attractive blue eyes. Her long hair was black and her skin was quite ghostly. It was only the mannerisms that made the two seem entirely unrelated.
The sex change story was a lot more fun.
"Artemis," the intercom buzzed. "Now, please."
The newest heir to the Fowl inheritance dragged herself from the bed. "Fucking bullshit, man."
"I will not have that language in the house."
"Apologies, mother," Artemis said, sending a rude, one-fingered gesture in the general direction of the intercom. "I am on my way with haste."
The drawing room was a large room, with woven yellow curtains that hung from wrought iron rods above the tall windows. They were marvelous windows, reaching almost all the way up to the high ceiling, from which hung a dazzling diamond chandelier. It was real diamond too. Artemis's grandmother Angeline had made sure of that.
But the size of the two strangers in the room somewhat lessened the grandeur. One was a man, broad shoulders, well-kept hair six and a half feet from the woven (locally made, not by Pakistani children) carpet. The other was a woman, nearly as tall, nearly as broad. They both wore dark suits and with a pair of dark sunglasses in the jacket pocket.
Artemis almost didn't see her parents in the shadow of these giants when she walked in.
"Artemis," her father said. "I would like you to meet Davy and Butler. They are your new bodyguards."
"I have bodyguards?"
"You do now," Minerva said, her arms crossed and eyes narrowed at her husband.
"You have always had bodyguards," Artemis II said. "You were merely unaware because your mother had it in her head that young girls were immune to dangers and therefore did not need them."
"No," Minerva said. "I said constant surveillance was no way for a young girl to live. You're putting words in my mouth."
"I am doing no such thing."
Artemis III put her hands up. "Whatever. Why do I need them now?"
Her mother left the room.
"Something has arisen," her father said, hands behind his back, "from which it is necessary that you receive increased protection. It is nothing serious. I am only trying to ensure your safety. It will soon pass over."
Artemis nodded. She looked at Davy. With a little effort, she could see his muscles under his suit jacket. She nodded again. I'd tap that, she thought.
"Well?"
"Oh, yeah, cool," Artemis said. "Fine. I don't mind being followed everywhere like a stray dog. Better yet, a little kid who has to be put on a toddler leash."
"Now, Artemis," her father said, "this is for your own good."
"Everything is for my own good," Artemis said. "Hell, dad. With all this stuff that's 'for my own good', you'd think be pretty damn-well good by now."
The older Fowl frowned and crossed his arms, looking quite bored.
If she were anyone else, Artemis would have screamed. But she was her father's daughter; that is, she had lived with him for the past sixteen years, almost seventeen now. So she left.
It was not that she minded having bodyguards. It was that having them around all the time worried her.
A/N: Short chapter, I know.
If you liked it, please review. If not, review anyway with suggestions on how to make it better. That makes EVERYONE happy! :D
-Cookies