Eight: Aftereffect
It was the look on his face when he saw her that tipped her off. It remained there only a fraction of a second, flashing across his features before he schooled them, allowing a slow smile to spread over his lips, but that momentary slip was enough to let Holly know he was up to something, something he did not want her to find out about.
"Holly," he said, his voice smooth as silk, "it's good to see you." He was never so smooth save when he was lying.
The hotel was on the outskirts of London and she had had to remain shielded until she'd reached the inside of his room. Her omnitool had made quick work of the lock on the sliding balcony door. "They asked me to look in on you," she said, tilting her head slightly to peer around him at his work desk. He stepped closer as if to embrace her – and block her view. She activated her wings and kept just out of his reach. "They get nervous when you travel."
"I was attending a physics lecture at King's College. Don't worry, Minerva wasn't in attendance this time."
Holly's lips thinned to a line. "It's not Minerva Paradizo I'm worried about."
She hovered higher until she could get a glimpse of the desk he'd been working at when she had come in. A tool set too small for his large, human hands was scattered over the surface of the desk along with an object in several pieces. It took her a moment to realize it was a disassembled omnitool.
"Artemis." Ill-suppressed fury tinged her voice, but he met her stare for stare.
"Captain," he said cooly.
"That's an omnitool. You know you're not supposed to be tinkering with fairy technology. Where did you get it?"
He shrugged. "It's nothing the LEP need concern themselves with."
His nonchalance nearly sent her over the edge. "D'Arvit, Artemis! I thought you'd learned your lesson after what had happened to Butler."
"And I believed I had proven myself to be more than just another John Spiro."
"Don't try to manipulate me, Artemis," she spat, quashing the surge of guilt that his retort had inspired in her. She remembered her words well enough.
"Remind you of anyone?"
"I am nothing like John Spiro. He's a cold-blooded killer."
"Give yourself a few years. You'll get there."
At the time she'd been justified in her comparison.
Artemis straightened his jacket. "I am simply experimenting with the device, nothing more. I am not planning to mass produce and distribute it. That said, the device could have many legitimate uses."
"Legitimate uses? Like what? Helping you to break into every gold reserve on the continent?"
He looked pained at the accusation, but that, too, could be feigned, another attempt to win her sympathy, to play on her feelings for him. "Holly, we have so little time together," he said stepping forward and capturing her hand in his. He leaned closer so she that could feel the heat of his breath. "Is this really how you want to spend it?" His lips brushed against hers. She jerked back.
"Just stop it. I'm not in the mood." Displeasure and disappointment mingled in his features. The tingle of her lips only made her angrier. How dare he try to use their relationship to slither out of this?
"Holly–"
"Actions have consequences and I have work to do now. Are you going to tell me where you got your hands on fairy technology?" He did not reply and she huffed in frustration before turning to go. "It had better not have been Mulch," she said over her shoulder.
"It wasn't." And of everything he had said that night, that was the only thing she believed.
She contacted Foaly as she soon as she was out of the hotel and in the air. "Foaly, do you read me?"
"You're still wearing your suit, Holly?" he said with a whinny. "I expected you'd already be shagging Mud Boy by now."
"There's been a slight change of plans," she said and her voice left no doubt about her mood. "I need you to help me track down a fence, someone willing to share fairy technology with a certain Mud Man. Probably operating out of London."
"I'll get right on it," he said. He spared her any further jokes.
ooo
"Have you made any progress on tracking down where that omnitool came from?" Holly asked once Foaly had buzzed her into the ops booth.
"Seems he's already packed up shop," Foaly said. "Looks like it was a tad shady, but nothing out oft he ordinary. Artemis set up his order with false fairy account and funds. The seller would've had no idea he'd just sold something to a Mud Man. Your boyfriend had it all covered." Holly groaned. It was so typical of Artemis. If she hadn't caught him working on it they'd never have know at all. "You're going to visit him in a few weeks, aren't you? Maybe you could get it back then?"
Holly rolled her eyes. "It's supposed to be a vacation, Foaly. I am not going to spend it snooping around Fowl Manor looking for a disassembled omnitool."
Foaly snorted. "Right. Of course. Too busy playing with Fowl's omnitool, I suppose."
She opened her mouth to reply but broke off as her portable computer buzzed. She retrieved it from her hip pocket. A blue message – blue for business – with a video file attachment and "Opal Koboi" as the header. "Can I use one of your consoles? You'll probably need to listen to this too."
He waved her to one of his consoles and in a few moments she had opened the video file. Artemis's features appeared on the screen. He was leaning back into his chair, looking calm and collected. "Hello, Holly," he began, steepling his fingers before him. "Since I've been unable to reach you through normal means, due, I'm sure, to your busy schedule his week, I've oped to send you this recording as I feel it will make it easier to drive home my point."
Holly turned to glance at Foaly as he paused the recording. "Busy schedule?" he said.
"I haven't been answering his messages," Holly said, brow furrowed. "I'm still mad at him."
Foaly raised an eyebrow but said not a word and pressed play. "Recently," Artemis continued, "there has been a notable drop in the population of Blanding's turtles. Environmentalists have, of course, pointed to loss of habitat and pollutants as the chief cause, but the drop seems even more sudden than one would expect if these were the causes. Particularly as there has been no increase in the discovery of dead turtles."
"Get to the point, Artemis," Holly grumbled.
"I believe," Artemis continued, his recording heedless of her impatience, "that the Opal is responsible for the decrease in population and that the Opal from the past has revived the operation she had set up beneath the Extionists' headquarters all those years ago. The key issue here is senescence."
"Senescence?" Holly repeated.
"Yes, senescence," he said with a smug air and it was only then that she realized he had paused a moment earlier, anticipating her response even as he had recorded the message. And he looked so very pleased with himself. He could be infuriating in his smugness when he wanted to be. "The term 'senescence' refers to the changes that take place within an organism as it ages. While Opal's sanity is questionable, the Opal from the past surely realizes her situation. She cannot change her future; in our time, she has given up her fairy gifts and that change is irreversible. For all intents and purposes she is human now and that means she will age – and very quickly by fairy standards." Holly shifted in her seat as Artemis paused and gazed through the screen at her with those blue and hazel eyes. This was not a topic she cared to dwell on. "As far as the Opal from the past is concerned, her lifespan has been shortened by centuries so her first priority must surely be to find a way to extend that lifespan.
"Which brings us to the Blanding's turtles. The process of senescence is not as universal as is commonly held in human society. Modern studies have revealed that several species of invertebrates experience little or no senescence, that is to say, they do not age. Lobsters are a common example. It's more difficult to find examples of vertebrates, but Blanding's turtles are one. They have been documented as living over eighty years and females of that age continue to be able to reproduce. If Opal requires tissue from these creatures in order to inject her future self with their genetic material that it would explain the sudden drop in their numbers."
He paused for a moment to straighten jacket, but before he could continue, Holly stopped the recording and turned to Foaly. He was already working furiously at his keyboard. "What do you think?"
"It's either absolutely right..."
"Or?"
"Or a brilliant strategy designed to get your attention."
Holly's lips thinned to a line but she only reached out and pressed 'play.'
"I would advise that the LEP set up surveillance on key locations throughout the turtle's range. That is, if Foaly is willing to dip into his budget." Over her shoulder, she heard Folay mutter a few less than flattering things about Artemis under his breath. "We know that Opal has always been proud of her appearance. Her looks will fade as she faces the human aging process, and the human lifespan is painfully short by fairy reckoning. Certainly even the present Opal would be willing to cooperate with her past self for such a plan." Once again he stared straight into the screen, his expression blank as he said, "At my back I always hear, time's wingéd chariot hurrying near." He smiled then. "I shall leave you to contemplate the matter. I'll be waiting for your reply."
Foaly snorted. "Was he quoting poetry at the end there?"
Holly was staring at a secondary screen that she had pulled up in order to check something. "That was directed at me," she said.
"Are you sure?"
"Positive," Holly replied. The words came from a human poem, older than her by centuries, called 'To His Coy Mistress.' The name made her want to slap him all the more. But more than that, it was cruel of him to remind her, to explain Opal's motivation and use it as a way of reminding her of his own short lifespan. It was cruel, and brilliant, and so thoroughly Artemis Fowl.
"So," Foaly began, "is it over?"
"Is what over?" Holly said, still focussed on the console and the lines of poetry it displayed.
"You and Artemis."
"Me and Artemis what?"
Foaly whinnied in apparent irritation. "Your affair with Mud Boy. You know that running off every few weeks to shag his bones?"
Holly looked up, blinking. "We had an argument, Foaly. I never said I was leaving him."
"Does he know that?"
And to that she found she did not have an answer.
ooo
Holly had expected a well-tailored and quite thoroughly smug Artemis to answer her call. Instead, when his image appeared on the communicator screen, she found him shirtless and sopping wet, black hair plastered to his temples. "You were in the shower?"
"Yes," he replied.
She rolled her eyes. "I'd have called back."
"Why give you the opportunity to change your mind?"
"For Frond's sake, Artemis, towel off before you drip on the communicator. Then we'll talk."
"All right."
"Artemis," she said as he moved to put down the fairy communicator. He raised it so that she could see his face once more. "I'm not going to change my mind. About you, I mean." His eyes caught hers and even through this electronic medium she could feel the familiar tug of his gaze. Until a drop of water dripped from his hair to trail down the bridge of his nose. "Go dry off," she said with a laugh.
But she could see the relief in his eyes as he did.
