EPISODE 1.04: CHANGELINGS
In which there is maple syrup and plot twists.
"I don't see any snow," was the first thing Mulch said upon stepping from the jet. He had his arms folded as though he'd expected it to be colder, while there was really nothing beyond a slight evening chill.
"It's Canada, not the Arctic," Butler responded. He was already down on the pavement, checking over the rented SUV that he'd arranged to have brought to the runway for their use.
"Aren't they the same thing?" Mulch stiffened. "Wait! Is that a beaver?"
The wild dog paused to regard the plane with baleful eyes before slinking around the wheel and out of sight.
-x-
There were sounds coming from the boiler room as Holly approached. More accurately, sounds beyond the usual clatter of the boiler itself - somehow, she'd managed to actually get used to that one.
"What are you doing in there?" she called through the door, uncertain if it were a good idea to open it. The decision was soon made for her, as the sounds stopped and - a moment later - the door flew open. The elf skipped backwards and the gnome in the doorway glowered up at her, his arms stretched around a plastic cube of office supplies.
"I'm leaving."
"You're going home early?"
"No. I'm leaving."
The words sunk in. "Oh." And then, "Oh. Do you need me to - is there a transfer form I need to sign or - "
"No."
The former intern gave her one last dour look before pushing past her. Holly turned to watch him go. "Good luck," she remembered to add. "Stay away from rogue coffee pots?"
It was only when the gnome was halfway down the hall that she realized half of the office supplies in the cube didn't belong to him. He'd disappeared around the corner before she decided she didn't care enough to bother chasing him down to get them back.
-x-
INBOX:
Arty;
Intern problem solved. He quit. Lasted five hours.
-H
OUTBOX:
Holly;
Five whole hours? He lasted longer than I expected. Well done!
-Artemis
INBOX:
Arty;
Did I mention that he stole your pen? The one you built a laser pointer into? Oops. You didn't need that for anything, did you?
-H
-x-
Artemis had just opened up the latest email when he heard a pointed cough from the seat in front of him. He skimmed over the text and allowed himself an annoyed frown at its contents before closing the phone. "Yes, Butler?"
"We need to talk."
Artemis set the phone aside, even as it lit up with another incoming message. "You have my full attention."
"Why didn't you tell me our objective was to retrieve that coin?"
The boy slipped his hand to his pocket, closing his fingers around the smooth metal. The hole in the middle of the coin had always felt warmer than the surrounding air, as though the substance remembered the pulse that had shaped it. Always, it was steadying. "Because the LEP would have destroyed it upon their own retrieval of Jones' laptop. We had to act first."
"That doesn't answer my question, Artemis. I didn't ask why we went after the coin - I asked why you chose not tell me about it."
"Because a coin is small enough that it could have been kept in any number of places within the house - even within the study. We already knew where the laptop was and therefore it made more sense as a target for planning the retrieval."
"You've been keeping me in the dark about a lot of your plans, lately," the bodyguard noted, his eyes narrowing on the road. In the pause that followed, his hands tightened on the wheel. "If you were unsure about the location of the coin, it would have made sense to have another pair of eyes to look for it. You didn't want me in the house."
Artemis stared out the window at the flat green landscape as it rolled past. Behind him, Mulch let out a snore as he rolled over - claiming jet lag, the dwarf had fallen asleep the moment the car began to move. "That's a rather drastic conclusion."
"Yet I don't hear you denying it."
"I'm not entirely sure what sort of response you want from me, Butler." Artemis frowned.
"The truth would be a nice start."
"That's a little harsh," said Artemis. Beside him, his phone lit up once more, and he wrenched his gaze away from the window to peer down at the incoming message.
"Ignore it," warned the bodyguard, catching his charge's distraction in the rear view mirror. "I'm trying to sort out what is going on with you, Artemis. First, you snuck out of the house. Fine. I acknowledge that you're young, and your judgement may not always be sound. Then, you insisted on travelling to Haven alone. Perhaps you wished to spend time with Holly - after the past year, I would understand that. But then, in Denver, you lied to me and deliberately planted me far enough away from Jones' house that if something were to happen to you, I would be unable to reach you in time. I can't justify that. Tell me, Artemis: are you angry with me? Because I simply don't understand."
"No." Artemis exhaled, but did not watch the air condense against the windowpane. Instead, he flipped his phone over so the lit screen faced downwards. Gathered his thoughts. "Old friend, I could never be angry with you. You know that."
"Then what is it?"
"Do you really want to hear the truth?" asked the young genius, his brow furrowed.
"No, I'd much prefer you continue to lie to me," muttered Butler under his breath. His grip was tight enough against the steering wheel that they would later lose the damage deposit on the rented vehicle, due to him having warped the entire wheel out of shape. "Of course I want the truth."
"Fine." Again, Artemis released his breath slowly. This time he watched his breath turn to fog against the glass, obscuring his view of the New Brunswick countryside as it slowly dissipated. Now Butler was silent, allowing his charge the moment to think. When Artemis finally spoke, his voice was heavy, tense. "If you must know, I accessed your medical records."
"Artemis -"
"Hear me out, please. Upon my return I noticed that, in the time I was gone, Juliet had taken a more active role in ensuring the security of the manor. I would not have been concerned about that - after all, we both know she is very capable - yet about a month ago I watched you two spar. I may not be a fighter myself, yet I do know enough about martial arts to be able to tell that she was allowing you the upper hand. And so I pulled up the records." Artemis paused. "You, old friend, were the one who lied to me. You should have told me about your heart."
Despite himself, Butler snarled. "It's not relevant, Artemis. I would have told you if it was."
"You had a heart attack!" Artemis caught his voice breaking, and swallowed hard. "While I was gone, you experienced a myocardial infarction. So yes, as soon as I became aware of the situation, I took steps to minimize the stress placed upon you. Old friend, I did not tell you what I was doing because you did not tell me that it needed to be done. I 'snuck out,' as you say, because I did not anticipate problems in Denver and so did not see the need to concern you over it. At the time, it seemed to be a minor affair."
"Artemis -"
The boy did not stop. "As for Haven? The sudden altitudinal change of a shuttle journey places strain on even the healthiest cardiovascular systems, and I knew I would be perfectly safe belowground with Holly by my side. Finally, after Becquerel Jones tranquilized me, I did not feel confident enough in my knowledge of my altered immune system to be entirely certain that my reaction was not due to a truly nasty compound within that sedative. I was not willing to risk exposing you to it." Now his voice was hard, his eyes cold. "Argue with me, then. Tell me I did not have just cause to act as I did."
For a moment, Butler was not entirely sure how to respond. In the rear view mirror, Artemis' pale face was earnest, his eyes set. He sighed. "Artemis, you know that I am getting older. That said, the day I become unable to carry out my duties as your bodyguard, I will let you know. Until then, I would expect you to -"
"To what?" Now it was Artemis' turn to soften his tone, lifting one hand to trace a line across the fog on the windowpane. "Butler, there are some risks I simply refuse to take. I have no choice but to ask you to humor me in this."
"Artemis, you were dead, and then you weren't. Your memories were gone, and then they weren't. You were weak, and you slowly regained your strength. Tell me: at what point was I supposed to have brought this up?"
"I found out all the same," he responded. Again, his phone lit up, and once more he ignored it. For several minutes they drove onwards, stray gravel and the last remnants of winter slush crunching together beneath the tires of the SUV. Nobody spoke until, finally, a voice piped up from the back of the vehicle.
"Are we there yet?" Somewhere along the last few miles, Mulch had stopped snoring. Now he sat upright, his hands folded almost demurely in his lap. "It's impossible to sleep with all this angst in the air."
-x-
OUTBOX:
Holly;
My apologies for the delay in reply, but you may want to find that intern. It wasn't merely a laser pointer, and I refuse to accept responsibility for whatever havoc he wreaks with it.
-Artemis
-x-
Sackville was the sort of town that belonged on postcards. It had a hardware store, several windmills, two convenience stores, multiple souvenir shops, and a lake. Two years ago there had been talk of opening up a Starbucks along Main Street, but eventually the plans had been scrapped to avoid the corporate presence in the idyllic town. After all, provincial government paid heavily for the right to feature it in their annual tourist brochures and television spots.
It was, reflected Demia Carter, a perfect example of what a town should be. Neighbors greeted one another in the streets, children sang Christmas carols in the town square each December, and it was nearly impossible to keep a secret for very long.
Her pink rain boots squelched the mud beneath her feet, and she inhaled deeply. The air smelled of springtime, the last remnants of ice lingering only at the most recessed areas of the shoreline. It was already being broken by the new reeds that sprung up each year, as though by magic, while the rest of the landscape was still frozen. At her hip, her cell phone vibrated; she frowned and spoke.
"Answer call."
The phone beeped once in confirmation, and began to broadcast a voice. "Yo, uh, Demi?"
"Yes, Bec?"
"Hey, man, listen. You may wanna be on your guard. My place just got broken into a few hours back, and they did something to the security grid you sent me. Not sure what it was, and I dunno if they can trace it back to you, but I figured I'd pass on the message anyways."
"Goodness." She bit her lower lip for a moment, considering. Gusts blew over the melting lake to ruffle her dark hair. "You're not hurt, are you?"
"Me? Nah, I'm solid here." Back in Denver, Becquerel Jones wrinkled his nose. "My front hall rug is a different story, though. If company shows up, you might want to watch out for the short one. Packs a real wallop. I won't tell you how."
"I understand," Demia said, slipping her hands into the pockets of her skirt. "Thank you for the warning, Bec. You're a fantastic friend."
"Wasn't anything," the other teenager insisted. "I'll let you go now. Be careful out there, Demia. I know we're good, but these guys - they know about the magic, and they don't seem to care who gets in their way. You know? Watch yourself."
"I will. You take care." She tapped her painted fingernails twice against the casing of her phone, and the device took the cue to turn itself off. Tapping her toes inside her size six rain boots, the teenager looked up once more and spoke to herself, allowing the wind to carry her words out across the ruffled water. "I'll be just fine."
-x-
"I managed to track down the GPS coordinates," Foaly explained. "More difficult than I'd expect for a human. Not only was the signal bounced off various sites around the world but it was also set up to go through several different servers in Sackville. Clinic, local college, internet cafe, library. Looks like it's even being routed through several different homes."
He bit off the end of a carrot, forgetting again that the sound of his chewing would carry across the line. "Clever or stupid, depending on your reasoning. On the one hand, it makes it more obvious that the signal is originating in Sackville. However, it's also much more difficult to trace down the exact location of the signal's origin. It's a defence mechanism to ensure that the sender has advance warning if anyone is trying to trace back the signal - and to ensure that if someone comes looking for them, that someone will be footing it all about town first." He paused, waiting.
It was Holly who gave in first, sighing behind him from where she'd been keeping an eye on the proceedings ever since Artemis sent word that the plane had landed. "And you were brilliant enough to get past all that."
Foaly beamed. "Child's play. I simply had to -"
"As much as I enjoy analyzing your technique," Artemis cut in, "We're just driving into the town now. Coordinates?"
The centaur rattled off the numbers and continued, "The house belongs to a Harold Carter, a professor at the local college. Something to do with arts - oh."
Holly leaned forward. "Oh?"
"Oh?" echoed Butler and Mulch.
"Folklore," answered Artemis. He was looking at the college's website through his phone's browser - the same page that Foaly had opened on his own computers in the Operations Booth. "Professor Carter specializes in folklore and oral literature."
"Fairy tales," Foaly clarified unnecessarily.
Artemis was still reading through the page. "What is more, the professor took the previous term off on sabbatical, which he spent with his family in Europe. Norway, to be precise."
"D'arvit," swore Holly under her breath. "There's someone I need to talk to."
-x-
The Carter residence was distinct from others in the cul-de-sac, with ivy crawling up the walls and the roof in want of fresh shingles. A large tree cast a shadow over the front yard, which was partially protected from view by a waist-high hedge that was a mess of twigs and newly budding leaves. A novelty gate stood over the cracked cement path, with a girl perched on the metal bars to swing back and forth. Behind her was an overgrown lawn peppered with garden gnomes and dandelions.
Artemis looked beyond the girl and the yard, peering at the eaves of the house for any sign of a security system. There was nothing he could see but, given the trouble Foaly had with following the signal, Artemis would be surprised if Professor Carter did not have something in place.
"I need a closer look," he told Butler, and slipped from the vehicle before the bodyguard could protest.
Mulch had taken up position to the rear of the house and was getting impatient. "Wait, are you changing the plan?"
"A mere tweak," Artemis responded. "Stay where you are. I need a closer look to confirm a hunch. And Butler, I'm doing nothing more than walking past the house - you can pick me up down the road in a few minutes."
By this time, he was close enough to the property to see what he wanted. "The garden gnomes," he said, rubbing at his cheek to mask the movement of his lips should anyone be watching. "Those are the cameras. I'll trust you to get past those easily enough, Mulch."
"Is that a go?"
"That is a - "
Artemis gave the girl another look. She was dressed in a frilly skirt with bright pink rain boots and a mess of brown curls framing her face, and was playing with the hem of her sweater as she swung back and forth on the gate. She glanced in his direction and their eyes caught, briefly, before she looked away again. She hopped from the gate, and glanced up once more to offer a quick smile before turning and running - no, more like skipping up the front path to her door.
Artemis watched, and knew. "Nevermind," he said softly.
"Pardon?" asked Mulch, who had been just about to take his first bite of earth.
"Step back and regroup," Artemis ordered. His pace had already sped up, and rather than pass by the house, he turned up the path to follow the girl to the door.
She had already skipped inside and was waiting for him, the space between door and frame blocked by her body, rocking back and forth on her heels.
"It's you," he said.
From his vantage point in the car, Butler tensed.
The girl gave a bright grin. "Hello, Artemis," she said with ease, "I would love to invite you in but, see, my mother says I'm not allowed to talk to strangers."
"You already know my name," Artemis responded.
"And here I thought you were going to question my desire to follow Mother's advice." She tipped back on her heels. "But I really do not want to talk to you today, Artemis. Goodbye."
And without a single word more, she closed the door in his face.
"This is not good. This is the definition of not good. Beside the phrase "not good" in the dictionary is a picture of this entire situation!" said a panicked Foaly, turning back to his screen. In his ear, Artemis heard the tapping of keys.
"I'm aware of this," muttered Artemis through clenched teeth. He frowned at the door before turning away abruptly to regroup at the SUV.
"Not good," Holly groaned in agreement. The other shoe had officially dropped.
"Uh oh," said Mulch into his earpiece, preoccupied with his lost meal. "Our 'not good' threshold is pretty high. Did I miss something?"
"Mulch, you're supposed to be helping!"
"This is how I help - either I eat things, or I uneat things, and either way I've just been told to stand down!" The dwarf stuck out his tongue.
"Uneat?" repeated Foaly, distracted by his keyboard.
"Well, you see, usually when I eat something, it -"
"That's enough, Mulch," said Artemis with a grimace.
Nobody else asked for further clarification.
-x-
At one point in his life, Caltrop Chlorella had assumed that the only good thing about prison would be the separation from his housepet. Adopting the canary had been a mistake; apparently caging it had only served to make the bird even angrier. He'd often bemoaned his rotten luck in choice of domesticated companion, and grumbled to himself that at least in prison, he'd be safe from her reign of terror.
Unfortunately, he hadn't even been that lucky.
A bolt of canary-yellow lightning shot down the hallway, screeching out bloody murder. The water sprite shrank back against the wall of his holding cell, quivering. He hadn't yet been transferred out of Police Plaza - instead, the force had opted to hold him in the containment cells beneath the station until the true depth of his crimes had been determined. After all, he didn't particularly strike either of his arresting officers as an especially violent individual, and his fairly lackluster criminal record spoke for itself.
"I'm dead," he glubbed, reaching to his jawline to adjust the tanks over his gills. "That's it. I'm dead."
His cellmate, a rather despondent gnome with hair that looked as though it hadn't seen water in months, grunted in response. "Funny, you haven't stopped talking yet."
"You don't think this is serious!?" Caltrop was aghast, turning to the gnome. He took a quivering step forward. "I'm dead!"
"And you haven't shut up! You sound plenty alive to me!"
Outside, Lucia screeched once more. Cal grasped the front of the gnome's prison uniform. "I'm dead, man, I'm dead!"
"Hey, get off me!" The gnome lashed out with an elbow, striking the sprite across the chin. Caltrop went flying, his slender frame offering no resistance against the blow. His gill tanks crumpled upon impact, and he choked.
"H-H-Help!"
"You in there! Behave!" A rather burly elf rapped on the cell door, though his speech was cut off as he ducked beneath the freed canary as she made another pass down the hallway. "We're evacuating," he said as he swung the clear door open wide. "No funny business, now. Single-file, and let's keep this - Oh!" He swore, ducking down as the rogue bird doubled back for a second attack.
"Begone, feathered - feathered hellspawn!" sputtered Caltrop, throwing himself flat against the ground of his cell to avoid the furious beating of wings. The bird screeched and wheeled, and the water sprite scrambled back, pressing himself against the wall. "Lucia, stop!"
"Oi, you brainless maniac!" shouted the gnome, lifting the pillow from his cot and throwing it. He missed by a mile, but the diving bird felt the disturbance in the air and crowed her disapproval, wheeling an inch from Caltrop's neck. The sprite took the moment's relief to fix his tank, though bubbles still rose frantically in time with his rapid breaths.
"Her name is Lucia," gasped Caltrop as he finally picked himself off the floor. His cellmate grunted once more, his arms raised to protect his head.
"I wasn't referring to the bird. Hey, watch it!"
The elf had decided to join the fray, drawing his gun from its holster and firing off a single shot. It ricocheted around the small cell, the polished tile serving as a perfect conduit for the reflection of energy. The gnome yelped, and then hit the floor.
Caltrop took the distraction and ran for the door.
Holly Short heard the chaos several hallways away, and did not need to think twice about her response.
Instinct kicked in, and when she turned the corner to view the unfolding commotion, she barely thought once. At the sight of the yellow blur screeching after the fleeing sprite, she drew her Neutrino, took careful aim, and fired off a single pulse.
The bird dropped like a stone, landing spread-eagled on the cold tile floor. The hallway fell silent, and the elf took advantage of the sudden hush. She pointed a finger at the trembling water sprite, and raised her voice. "Chlorella, you're with me. Everybody else -" She paused for a moment, surveying the damage before shaking her head in disgust. "Back to business as usual."
Caltrop dropped to his knees in relief. "Thank you - thank you!" He peered anxiously around Holly, brow furrowed. "The human's not - not with you, is he?"
"No. I have some questions for you, Chlorella."
"Phew, good. As long as the human's not around." Now that the immediate threat had been dispelled, Caltrop rose slowly, leaning in to speak in a conspiratorial whisper. "Between you and me, Captain Short, the human's a bit of a menace."
Holly winced. "I'd noticed."
"Almost as wantonly destructive as my canary!" His gills fluttered, and Holly snorted as she grasped the sprite by the scruff of the neck.
"I doubt it. Now please come quietly. I'd rather not stun anybody else today."
-x-
Artemis had called for a full retreat to a cafe in the middle of the town. From his position, he could look through the window to view most of the street, and what he saw was quite interesting.
"You see, there," he told Butler with a nod towards the bank. "Surprisingly advanced security system for a small town. The streetlights are all energy efficient."
The bodyguard nodded thoughtfully, comfortable in the act of pretending he knew what Artemis was leading up to. Mulch, on the other hand, had no qualms about interrupting. "So the humans had a break-in at the bank. Bet I could still get in there."
"So, even the banks of big cities have been struggling to repair their security since the Techno Crash," Artemis retorted. "The world is still piecing itself together. Most small towns are still surviving on near-primitive technology."
"So our culprit is here because of the technology," Mulch said around a mouthful of maple donut. According to him, they were a Canadian delicacy.
"No. I would assume the technology is here because of our culprit." Artemis frowned and turned on the ear bud. "Foaly, have you found her yet?"
"Demia Carter," was the prompt response. "And besides the information on her father, the professor, there is nothing to be found. Sound familiar?"
"Unfortunately," was Artemis's response. "Excuse me, I have a call to make."
-x-
The call was answered on the first ring. "Hello and thank you for calling Paradizo Psychiatric Consulting. This is Sharon speaking. How may I assist you today?"
Mulch shot a dark look at Artemis before saying into the phone, "I'd like to speak to Min - uh - Ms. Paradizo about some symptoms I've been having. Obsessive counting, tapping. And an irrational fear of squids. Ouch - hey, was that supposed to hurt?"
"Would you like me to book an appointment for you, sir? I'll need your name and contact information, and - "
"Just over the phone," Mulch insisted. "It's urgent. I'm also hearing voices. Again. The evil ones."
To her credit, the secretary barely missed a beat. "I'll transfer you over in just a minute, sir. If I might have your name?"
"Mo," replied the dwarf easily. He waited until the strains of Mozart sounded over the line and then passed the phone to Artemis, who was resisting the urge to complain. Comfortable as his custom loafers were, they did not provide adequate toe protection in the event of kicking a dwarf. Mulch huffed. "I still don't understand why you can't make the call yourself."
"Because the receptionist recognizes my voice and no longer puts my call through," Artemis answered. Mulch blinked and might have asked more, except the human's expression changed just then as another voice came on the line.
"Hello, Mo. Sharon tells me you've been hearing voices?"
Artemis wasted no time. "Minerva, I need a favour."
The sigh carried through the line. "When don't you need a favour, Artemis?"
"I would assume, given our history, that you would find a way to spare a minute?" Artemis furrowed his brow. Minerva never did make this sort of interaction easy.
"Very well. What is it you need?"
"Information. I've crossed paths with a girl, Demia Carter, and I need -"
"No."
"Pardon?"
"If you are implying what I think you are implying, the answer is no. Sort out your own love life, Fowl. I won't -"
"Minerva, no. Listen. I have reason to believe that Miss Carter is aware of our mutual friends." His voice dropped. "The situation could potentially become quite dangerous, as I am sure you know well. The problem is that I am currently affiliated with the LEP, and so I am constrained by their methods."
"And you need somebody on the outside, to make sure our friends haven't missed any pieces of the larger picture?"
"Precisely. I'm sending the relevant information to you now."
"And I've received it. Well." Minerva pretended to stifle a yawn, though her eyes were already scanning the text, "I suppose I've got nothing else going on. I'll have to see what I can turn up. Though I'm not entirely certain what you need me for, if you've already involved yourself in the situation."
"Miss Carter was smart enough to find our friends, and I don't believe she's working alone. I'd rather waste an hour or two of your time than discover in a few hours that I could have used your help."
Minerva considered for a moment. "You owe me, Artemis."
"Thank you." Artemis hung up without further discussion.
-x-
INBOX:
Artemis,
Your request for direct access to the Haven Library Archives has been denied. As I am sure you are aware, several of our more important texts have been enchanted to disintegrate at a human touch. With that knowledge, we simply can not allow you unsupervised access to the physical volumes. However, you have been granted permission to work with Professor H. D. Tweedir, who has generously volunteered to act as your research liaison for the extent of your time with the LEP. Please set up an appointment by contacting a librarian during office hours.
Thank you,
Maple Plumtree, Head Librarian
Haven Library Archives
INBOX:
Artemis,
Friendly warning for my favourite Mud Boy, DON'T WORK WITH TWEEDIR. He's absolutely insufferable.
Or, on second thought, you two should get along wonderfully.
Third thought: did you really believe anybody would let you browse the archives? They tried to be polite about it, too - wow, that IS precious.
Foaly
-x-
OUTBOX:
Foaly,
I'm sure the warning is appreciated. Of course I did not expect my request to be approved; it was merely worth a try.
Artemis
-x-
Upon her arrival at the surface, Holly decided she was already tired of this particular adventure. Caltrop had not withstood the shuttle journey well - it was only after several nerve wracking moments of negotiating through the bathroom door that he was eventually coaxed into leaving the shuttleport. Really, he was no worse for wear. A little shaky, perhaps, and he had gone a rather off-putting shade of gray.
The elf made no secret of her disdain. Even Artemis had handled his first shuttle trip with a little more grace.
By the time they arrived in Sackville, the sprite's complaints had worn her nerves entirely thin. Artemis and company were waiting inside a rented SUV.
"Oh, fantastic," groaned Caltrop when Artemis exited the vehicle. "I think I'd rather take my chances with the canary."
"That could be arranged," threatened Holly through clenched teeth.
The human made a show of checking his watch. "What took you so long?"
Holly grimaced. "Ask the convict."
"Wait, what did I do now?" Mulch Diggums had rolled down a tinted window to poke his head out of the vehicle, inhaling the sweet night air. It tasted like springtime in the country, fragrant and clean. The sort of air that one only came across in a small town. The dwarf belched.
"Nothing, Mulch." Artemis did not look up, instead studying Caltrop closely. "Chlorella and I need to have a talk."
-x-
The discussion took place on an old, winding bridge that ran along the waterfront. Holly had perched on the wooden railing, her neutrino laying across her lap should Chlorella try to run. Butler and Mulch had taken up positions on either side of the walkway, leaving Artemis facing the miserable watersprite in the middle.
"As Holly and myself have already explained numerous times," Artemis was saying tiredly, "no one is recording this conversation. You were brought up here for a face-to-face meeting because this is strictly off the record."
"Why should I say anything?" Caltrop asked, arms folded petulantly.
Artemis gritted his teeth. "We're your arresting officers. I should think that even you would realize aiding us will only help your case."
"Off the record? You're not recording anything?"
Artemis reached into his pocket to pull out a thin, black device no bigger than his thumb. "A frequency jammer," he said. "I put it together while you were on your way to the surface."
Caltrop was impressed. "You must be serious."
Mulch rolled his eyes. "He didn't build it just for you, fishboy."
The watersprite blushed and said nothing. Holly groaned. "Don't act impressed, or he'll never stop showing off - it probably only took him twenty minutes."
"Sixteen," replied Artemis, returning the device to his pocket. "The point is, this is off the record. It's in your best interests to be honest, as with no proof that this conversation took place, nothing you say here can be used to incriminate you later. We simply need the truth."
"And then you're going to arrest me!" Caltrop folded his arms and glowered. "I - I know how this works! You'll arrest me -"
"You are already under arrest." Holly shot a look at Artemis that said quite clearly how little she thought of this particular escapade. The human sighed.
"As mentioned, we already did arrest you, which gives us some sway over your case."
"I - yeah, okay." Caltrop seemed to wither, his shoulders slumping. When he made a dash for the bridge railing, Artemis was almost able to move quickly enough to stop him.
Almost.
The water sprite hit the water with a sound splash. Holly took a moment to swear before she hopped the railing herself and dove after him.
-x-
"You knew that would happen!" hissed a waterlogged Holly twenty minutes later, once more standing in the middle of the bridge. One hand held Caltrop by the collar of his shirt; the other drummed a pattern on the barrel of her gun. Artemis tapped along.
"I have no idea what you mean."
"Why are you doing that with your hands? Am I supposed to start singing along? Did this suddenly turn into a musical?" Now that escape was proven impossible, Caltrop had seemed to gain a bizarre sort of courage.
In fairness, he almost might even have been successful in his escape had one of his breathing tubes not dislodged upon impact with the water's surface. As it was, the air he had gasped in as he went over the railing had flooded his gills. He had coughed, sputtered, and choked long enough for Holly to easily wrangle him back to shore.
Artemis looked down at his hand and grimaced, curling his fingers into a fist as the elf gave a smirk that would not be out of place on her human friend's face. Nonetheless, she stopped tapping, and so did he.
"Now that you've gotten that escape attempt out of your system," began Artemis. He was trying desperately to get the consultation back on track as, even though he had expected that small distraction, they were still behind schedule. "Can we discuss, in more detail, your involvement with the Norwegian hacktivists? I need to know exactly what information you sent them."
"Well, they didn't know about the People, if that's what you're asking about? The humans thought they were, um, playing some sort of game. Didn't take it seriously, at all, most of 'em."
"One of them must have taken it seriously, though," insisted Artemis. The water sprite shrugged.
"Yeah, I guess. There was one girl who seemed a bit too into the whole thing? Contacted me, wanted some more info, and said she didn't wanna do anything with it, just get an edge over the other players? Yeah, I thought it was funny, you humans and your games, so I sent it along. Some blueprints."
"The security system," said Holly. Artemis nodded.
"If Becquerel Jones was also looking for the People, it's not implausible that he and Demia may have crossed paths and pooled information. Jones did not share the satellite records with her, but she gave him the security system blueprints. Interesting."
"Humans and your games," repeated Caltrop, folding his arms.
"Which means LEPfoul is authorized to intervene here, as we were already involved in the Jones case," noted Holly.
"Jones kept his findings to himself. That's good - that means it's unlikely we'll find this particular security breach to have wider consequences, as long as she has only sent the blueprints to him. This can be contained. They're both working in relative isolation, and there's unlikely to be much trust between them. Somebody of Carter's intelligence must have known that Jones was holding information back."
"So, we shut this down here and it goes away?" asked Holly, her arm starting to ache from keeping Caltrop restrained.
"Essentially."
-x-
"What do you mean, shut this down here and make it go away?" Holly spluttered, barely a quarter hour later.
Commander Kelp glared at her from her helmet's screen. "I mean exactly that. I set up this department to contain problems - not to create new ones. I don't want to know what you hope to uncover in Sackville. I don't want to know why there was an explosion in Jones's residence yesterday. And I certainly do not want to know why the water sprite you arrested is currently on the surface instead of the holding cells. Jones has gone missing. Mind-wipe the girl before she disappears as well, retrieve the information, and get the convict back belowground."
"Which one?" she asked sourly.
"All of them!"
Holly glanced past the image of her commanding officer to the convicts in question. Caltrop was listening skeptically to Mulch, who had taken it upon himself to advise the water sprite on prison life. "Sir, shouldn't we interview her first to find out what the information was for?"
Kelp was unimpressed. "It won't matter after the mind-wipe. I am serious when I say I want you - and the convicts - back belowground as soon as possible, if not before. Understood?"
Holly tried not to scowl. "Understood, sir."
He hesitated for an instant before his expression softened. "D'arvit - Holly, you're making me sound like Root!" And then, before she could reply, Kelp ended the call.
"A pity he hung up before you could remind him that there are worse people to sound like," remarked Artemis, who had - naturally - been eavesdropping on the call. And then, "Wait. Do you think he considers me to be a convict, as well?"
-x-
"Does she really think that's what gnomes look like?"
"I'm fairly certain that's what most humans imagine gnomes to look like," replied Artemis, turning the lawn ornament over in his hands. It had already been disabled by the signal jammer that still sat nestled in his pocket, but he wanted to take a look at the security system all the same. "Interesting."
"I wish you'd stop saying that." Holly had not taken their new orders well - shielded, she hovered two feet away and grumbled into her helmet. "Haven't you learned yet that it never ends well when you say that?"
"No, look. She had the same security blueprints as Jones, yet unlike him, she never implemented them. So while she is technically proficient enough to improve the town's systems within human standards after the Technocrash, yet fairy technology is beyond her. If she could have used it, she would have. That's a good sign." Artemis looked up. "It means Jones is the only one who was actively building fairy technology, and since we know he was not inclined to share his findings with others, it is confirmation that this situation really can be contained."
"Then let's contain it," Holly sighed.
Artemis responded by replacing the garden gnome and brushing off his hands. "Her room will be around back, and I doubt she'll be asleep."
Holly didn't answer. Artemis looked up, wondering if she'd already started toward the house. A beat of four taps on the grip of an invisible neutrino assured him otherwise. Someone else is close enough to hear, he realized, and turned on his heel.
"Is the talking to yourself supposed to be an eccentric genius sort of thing? Because it's not the sort of thing I do, but I don't think I'm that eccentric, not really?" said Demia from beneath the tree. "And you were right - I'm not asleep. Thanks for the concern - insomnia is so terrible, isn't it?"
All of this was said with a single breath. The pauses in her speech were for emphasis only, and her hands fluttered as she spoke. Artemis took a moment to be grateful that she hadn't wanted to speak to him earlier - apparently talking was something she did quite well.
"Yes, I'd imagine it would be," he said. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the faintest shimmer as Holly moved slowly into position. Slowly, so as to not disturb the air and warn Demia.
"I noticed you were looking at my garden gnomes. So clever, aren't they? My idea, of course. I think it's spectacularly fitting." She looked at him sharply. "You're here because you're a changeling too, aren't you?"
Artemis was at a loss for words. "Am I supposed to understand this terminology?"
"You know, changelings. Fairy mythology. My dad's a professor of the stuff, that's how I figured it out. Obviously I'm much too clever to be a true human."
By now, Artemis had lost sight of Holly. He sighed, and Demia bounced on her heels.
"What, you don't believe me? You've gotta know what changelings are - I mean, you're here, so you must know! Wouldn't it explain so much, if kids like me were actually magic? My dad told me all kinds of stories about how fairy babies got swapped for normal ones, and then the fairy kids grew up feeling like they didn't actually belong anywhere, and maybe there's some truth to it!" Her eyes were afire, and her chin jutted out in a posture of defiance. "Go on, tell me I'm wrong!"
"I understand the concept of changelings," Artemis replied mildly.
"Then you agree!" She skipped forward across the lawn, nearly running over Holly. "Bec said I couldn't trust you but I think you feel out of place, too. Don't you?"
Artemis looked at her in bewilderment and had no idea what to say. He opened his mouth - and then Demia crumpled to the ground.
"It's okay, Mud Boy," said Holly as she replaced her neutrino in its holster, unshielding with a smirk. "We can all be outcasts together."
-x-
The first rays of dawn were beginning to bleed over the horizon as the rented SUV finally found the highway. The actual mind wipe had gone quickly enough - they would have left Sackville hours ago, had it not been for Mulch's insistence upon leaving a parting gift.
It had turned out that Sackville had just one 24-hour convenience store, located on the opposite side of town, that carried maple syrup. It was only once the jar was left in a place of honor upon Demia's bedside table that the dwarf agreed it was time to go.
"Oh, relax, Holly! Her brain will come up with some perfectly reasonable reason for it to be there!" reassured Mulch, for the eighth time. "Besides, everybody knows syrup is a Canadian delicacy! We're only being polite! Which is also a Canadian thing!" Everybody present knew that, by this point, he was actively trying to be annoying. It was working.
"She won't know that we were there. We were supposed to not leave any traces behind. And you are not Canadian," hissed the elf in response. Again.
Thrilling as that conversation was, Artemis was relieved when his phone rang and gave him an excuse to properly ignore them. "Hello?"
"Artemis. I ran the numbers you gave me and I do have some insights on this girl. Remarkably intelligent for her age - knows the internet well enough to have erased nearly every trace. If you wouldn't mind, I have some ideas about how to approach her -"
Artemis coughed awkwardly. "Yes, thank you, Minerva. We've actually dealt with her already."
The silence on the other end was not encouraging. Then, her voice as cold as the Canadian night, "You've already dealt with her?"
"That is correct."
"You specifically contacted me for consultation and then dealt with the situation before I could give you my insights - and did not even bother to tell me about it?"
Artemis sighed. "I apologize, Minerva. It's been a long day."
"A long day, has it? Longer than mine as I analyzed your problem?"
"Minerva -"
"Incidentally, I came to a sobering conclusion during this analysis. This girl, Demia. And her friend in the States whom I assume you are already aware of -?"
"Yes."
"Artemis, I've believed for a long time that kids are getting smarter, but this is just impossible. Statistically speaking, even controlling for population growth, there should be no more than one or two living human individuals with IQs as high as ours. Furthermore, the fact that we both became interested in the People was remarkable, and even more unlikely. And then there's your brother Myles - his intelligence is excusable only because he's been tainted by association with you. But now Demia, and this friend of hers, Becquerel? It's statistically impossible. There must be some underlying factor."
Artemis nodded, even though she couldn't see it. "I was afraid you would mention that."
"Oh?" And then, fiercely, "Artemis Fowl, if you contacted me just to receive confirmation that this correlation is alarming, I'll -"
"Stop right there. I guarantee whatever you were about to threaten me with, I've heard worse."
She conceded the point. "True. Knowing you, you have. And objectively, I can understand that you needed me to reach this conclusion independently to validate your own theory. All the same -" She huffed a sigh and didn't finish her thought. "Just keep me aware of the situation, please? I would appreciate staying in the loop on this one."
"Understandable," Artemis replied. "Although I can't guarantee I can tell you everything due to restrictions of my own position."
"Because you always follow rules and regulations to the letter," she retorted.
-x-
They parted ways at the airstrip, Holly still holding Caltrop firmly by the collar. Like every other facet of this particular escapade, it did not go exactly as planned.
"I'm not returning to Ireland," announced Artemis. "At least, not right away."
"You're supposed to be grounded," reminded Butler.
"The situation changed. Becquerel Jones has disappeared."
"And I don't think you understand how 'grounded' works."
"It's not relevant. Jones is missing, and Minerva brought up a point that I had also been concerned about. I need to run some numbers and it will go much more quickly - with a much greater degree of accuracy - if I have access to fairy databases to do it. I'm returning belowground with Holly and the others."
"Is this about what you mentioned earlier, when you were on the phone, about other smart kids?" glubbed Caltrop. He struggled once, weakly, against Holly's grip. The elf held firm.
"Fantastic," said Mulch, fixating on that concept. "That's exactly the thing we need, more human kids running around convinced they're changelings. Well...I guess it could be worse. At least this latest one didn't try to kidnap anybody. Maybe Changelings is an improvement?"
"Changelings," repeated Artemis, under his breath. "You realize Demia's father lied to her? Changeling folklore is not very nice at all."
"I know. Neither are you humans, so maybe she got that one right after all," grumbled Mulch.
"What about me?" asked Caltrop, quaking at the thought of returning to the cells where Lucia presumably continued her reign of terror. "Did you all forget about me?"
"Back to jail, Chlorella." Holly failed to be sympathetic. In fairness to her, she still had not recovered entirely from the last time Artemis had been belowground.
"Perhaps not - I heard that LEPfoul is in need of a new intern? Our old one only lasted five hours," said Artemis. "Maybe some kind of agreement can be reached."
Holly glared at him, and Artemis pointedly tapped his index finger twice against his leg. The sprite is honest, adapts well to chaos, and seems to annoy Holly. Also, if we are able to prevent him from facing legal recourse for his actions, he will be in our debt. A perfect addition to the team.
And then, wait. Since when did I think in terms of being part of a team? His hand drifted to the coin in his pocket, nestled snugly beside his LEP badge. Apparently, there's a first time for everything.
-x-
Next Time:
EPISODE 1.05: RIPOSTE - Artemis and Holly bicker while taking down an arrogant Korean fencer. The Changeling problem gets worse.
-x-
Author's Notes:
Sorry for the wait in getting this episode up, and sorry for all the exposition! We needed to set up the situation for the rest of the series, and that took a lot longer than we thought it would. If you feel like this episode needs a TL;DR, here it is:
Butler has heart problems, Holly has intern problems, Artemis and Minerva have a serious case of passive-aggression, Caltrop has gill tank problems, LEPfoul has Changeling problems, and Mulch has problems understanding what "Canadian" means.
Everybody has Lucia problems, and our spell-checker doesn't think "Canadian" is a real word. Some of these problems are more relevant than others. Thank you, as always, for bearing with us! And thanks for reading and reviewing - as Winged says, you make our world go 'round! -Freud
As Freud mentioned, this was an exposition-heavy episode. Sorry about that. The next one will be more of an action-y adventure, I promise.
And thank you all once again for your responses to previous chapters! We both love talking to you all about thoughts and characters and the like. (You may have noticed, we're both a bit wordy!) Cheers! - Winged