EPISODE 2.03: TWEEDIOUS TIDINGS
In which Christmas is ruined, the worst-case scenario game is played, and Tweedir finally makes a friend.
—X—
An excerpt from The Self-Published Memoirs of Professor Honkard D. Tweedir
By this stage in my career, I was already an accomplished professor. I held prestigious degrees in several magical disciplines and had twice been presented awards for my studies into the Serinus canaria. Other fairies tend to retreat into their studies upon reaching such a high standing in the academic community; I, on the other hand, viewed it as my solemn duty to impart my wisdom upon the younger generation. Thus it was that, despite the fact that I had been awarded a sabbatical to concentrate upon my research, I did not entirely relinquish my role as a tenured instructor at Haven University.
The class was small for the large lecture hall, the students scattered amongst the chairs like sand pipers upon a prairie field. On this particular day in question, I was concluding a lecture on magical resonance when a most intriguing visitor stepped into my classroom. Roughly twice the height of the average fairy, with hair like a raven and the eyes of a white ibis, this was the infamous Artemis Fowl the Second. I had been given the untold pleasure of working with this human as library liaison since his appointment as LEPfoul consultant several months before, but this marked the first occasion I had seen him outside the confines of his offices.
I swelled with pride the instant he walked into my classroom yet, always the professional, I did not stop my lecture. As well — yes, I will admit — I was curious to learn what Artemis Fowl would make of my lecture material.
"And this is why you're not allowed to have birds in Haven," Fowl cut in at last. "Proximity to magic dampens their self-preservation instincts. As I'm sure your professor was going to eventually tell you, nobody knows why."
I was astonished. After listening to only a few minutes of my lecture, he had correctly interpreted the ultimate goal of it. "Well, I've already discussed many common theories and I was going to go over them once more to ensure maximum student retention. In addition, I had planned to fully explicate the interesting Canary Islands thought experiment — I'm sure we all know the one."
Fowl waved a hand airily, feigning disinterest. "It's not an interesting thought experiment. It's a simplistic thought experiment. And I believe your lecture was supposed to have concluded ten minutes ago."
He waited as my students hastily gathered together their belongings and departed from the hall. The buzz of young life absorbing knowledge has always spoken to me, endearing me to my students; I smiled hearteningly at each one as they passed. They were all too intimidated by my academic prowess to meet my eyes. Alas, one must try!
"I came in person because you were ignoring my emails," Fowl began once the door had swung shut behind the last student.
I clutched at my chest, insulted. My usual verbosity failed me. "Never!"
Fowl hastily backtracked. I could see the guilt in his eyes for even making such a suggestion. "And yet you continue to send me long emails even after I've told you that for the next week, I will not have access to technology."
Ah yes — I recalled to mind that barbarous human holiday that had been stolen and warped from its original fairy origins. "I would have assumed you would be above such things."
"Turns out I'm not," the human deftly replied. "Stop emailing me."
My dear friend, Doctor J. Argon, had once written a book about this particular Mud Man and often took great pleasure in bragging about this fact. Now, as Artemis Fowl the Second strode purposefully from the lecture hall, I had to use all my restraint to not send a message to Argon this very minute. Artemis Fowl had been in my classroom — had listened to my lecture — and had comprehended the lecture objective faster than any of my ordinary students. What a fast learner! What a fascinating character! Argon would be so very jealous.
—X—
INBOX:
Mud Boy,
Hey, remember when I told you not to do a thing and then you did it anyways and now there are consequences for your actions?
… Because word on the street is that you had to physically go and find Tweedir to tell him to actually stop emailing you for a week. And yet, I distinctly recall shooting you a couple of emails warning you against working with him. Funny coincidence, isn't it?
Cheerfully gloating,
Foaly
OUTBOX:
Foaly;
And here I thought we'd moved past getting excited over every single coincidence.
- A
INBOX:
Even better, you actually DO have access to your phone over Christmas! Ha! Call me when you need to take out a restraining order!
Foaly
—X—
Artemis rolled his eyes and slid his phone back into his pocket. "What was that, Beckett?"
His younger brother huffed impatiently. "I said, you seem to make that face a lot when you're working."
"And what makes you presume I am working? There are a number of other people with whom I correspond."
Beckett raised his eyebrow skeptically. Myles, standing on a chair to better peer over Artemis's shoulder, explained, "Because you were using that other alphabet again. And muttering in your code-language about centaurs. You know if you're a spy, you can just tell us, right? I mean, we've figured most of it out already anyway. It explains everything! For instance, it's why you're not around a lot, and why you always wear suits, because that's what spies do. And it -"
"What does centaur actually mean?" interrupted Beckett, fidgeting a little in his determination to cut right to the truth. "The code word, I mean. We know what centaurs are, and that they're not real so you can't actually be talking to one."
That was the moment Artemis realized that at some point, his brothers had actually succeeded in translating Gnommish to the point that they could understand which word meant "centaur." They hadn't just determined the contextual gist of the word; they'd actually decoded the roots of the symbol to which the word corresponded. The fact that they assumed he was using the Gnommish alphabet to communicate in a second layer of code was both reassuring and frightening. On one hand, they still remained in the dark about the existence of the People; on the other, he could no longer rely on the confidentiality of his communications belowground. "Fine. You caught me. Centaur means that it's your turn to make the rounds."
He reached to propel Beckett towards the door, but the boy slipped out of reach just as Myles threw his weight against Artemis's shoulder. Artemis staggered and Myles hung on, arms wrapped around his brother's neck. His phone buzzed once more in his pocket. Artemis threw out a hand against the wall to catch himself. As though for good measure, the phone vibrated again.
"Enough, Foaly," he hissed, attempting to twist and deposit his brother back on the ground.
In his ear, Myles asked, "Is Foaly another code name?"
Artemis felt another hand against his side and realized that Beckett was making a grab for the phone in his pocket. "No —" he gasped, and attempted to swat the arm away. In doing so, he finally lost his balance. All three brothers landed in a heap.
Artemis sprang back to his feet faster than either twin had thought possible. After touching his pocket lightly to ensure his phone remained safe, he glared. It was the kind of look that sent interns scurrying for cover on an almost daily basis; Beckett and Myles just groaned in unison, knowing the game was up. "We'll both make the rounds," Myles volunteered sheepishly, taking Beckett's arm and turning to scurry from the room. After digging in his heels for a brief instant, Beckett gave in and followed.
Artemis breathed a sigh of relief as the glass door clicked shut behind them.
"You did several things wrong in that encounter," said an amused voice near the open window. "It shouldn't have taken you that long to shake them. Do you want to see the video playback? I can put it in slow motion, if you need. And loop it."
So much for relief. Artemis clenched his jaw. "Hello, Holly. The Ritual went well?"
"You know, I used to be able to go a decade at a shot without refilling my tank. Now it's every six months." The elf paused thoughtfully. "And somehow, this entire trip feels like it's been worth it."
"I'm sure it was the highlight of your night."
"Don't flatter yourself, Mud Boy. I got to go stargazing earlier. Anyways, just thought I'd check in before heading back belowground. Make sure you hadn't started any potentially world-ending crises in the last twelve hours."
Artemis made a point of checking the clock on his phone. "Eleven hours."
Holly winced. "Still an hour to go? Shall I just wait here until I hear the sirens?"
Artemis turned back towards the glass pane that looked out on the ballroom. "It's my mother's annual Christmas charity function. Whatever disaster is waiting to swoop down upon us, I'm sure it knows better than to interrupt." He stepped aside to allow Holly a full view of the room beyond the door. Guests in formal wear mingled together as waiters wove amongst them with trays of appetizers and champagne. The strains of classical music floated over the conversations, provided by a live string quartet in an alcove just off the main room.
"Angeline does know how to throw a party," admitted Holly, even though the lavishness of the entire affair left a faintly sour taste in her mouth.
"The twins are not fond of formality," Artemis admitted. "Myles came up with a rotation system to prevent them from both having to be inside the ballroom at all times, and I agreed to help them test it."
"You, not fond of mingling?" Her voice was thick with sarcasm. "I wouldn't have suspected."
"If you're implying that the inevitable gossip over my conduct for the past decade is something I'd prefer to avoid, you would be correct," said Artemis dryly, touching his phone once more. "People do tend to talk, and I'd rather —"
"Who are you talking to?" interrupted a small voice by the door. Artemis shut his mouth abruptly, turning away from Holly to address Myles, who had managed to slip away from Beckett's side in an attempt to talk to his older brother alone.
"My invisible friend," he replied immediately.
"But you don't look like you're wearing an earpiece."
"Of course I don't. A good spy never looks like they're wearing an earpiece."
Myles beamed. "But seriously, who were you talking to? Because I know you're not actually a spy. Well, Beckett thinks you're a spy, but he's seen too many movies. I think he just likes to imagine you trying to run away from explosions."
From the window came the sound of a muffled snort. On second thought, Artemis thought it might have been a sob. Either way, it was not appreciated.
The youngest Fowl pressed on. "This has something to do with the buried pipe, right? Well, not with the pipe itself, but with the weird energy readings around it. Although the fact that you buried a pipe in the first place does say a lot about exactly how little you think of my ability to reason things out, it doesn't actually explain the readings. You've never lied to me about anything before, and encouraged me in every other experiment I've run. What makes this one different?"
Artemis's thought process in the ensuing silence was rapid and impossible to fully transcribe, yet the moments after Myles' calculated guilt trip could accurately be summed up as follows:
1) D'arvit.
2) I have not encouraged him in every experiment. I shut down the blowtorch incident last week, and put my foot down regarding his unfortunate scorpion obsession the week before that.
3) Myles has no way of knowing how much he's been lied to. That's the entire point of lying.
4) Neither of these would be helpful to point out right now.
5) D'arvit!
Then he realized that the profanities were not his own thoughts. Rather, Holly was swearing in the earpiece that he really was wearing. Due to the fact that her helmet had been sealed the entire time to prevent anyone else at the function from hearing her, it really was like he had a second voice in his head.
6) I would make an excellent spy.
7) That's also not very helpful right now.
8) D'ARVIT! Artemis, DO something about your brother! He's a younger version of you and MAYBE not evil yet, so fix this NOW before it escalates!
Artemis studied his younger brother closely, deliberating.
9) Holly is correct. This cannot escalate. Yet if I give my brother another story, it will only be a matter of time before he disproves it. And next time, he won't come to me for the truth. Lying is only effective if the other party believes you are honest. Again, that's the entire point of lying.
10) D'arvit.
Artemis opened his mouth to speak, and then hesitated. Frowning, he made a show of tapping the side of his leg four times. On the other end of the line came a heavy sigh, one last swear, and then two reluctant taps in return.
—X—
It was not often that I made the arduous trek from the University of Haven campus grounds to the Foul Team offices across the city. On this particular day, however, I felt it necessary. After all, Artemis Fowl the Second had taken the time to visit me personally in order to explain that he would be absent from his duties as the head of LEPfoul for the week. While he had made the journey under pretence of explaining his lack of technology, I read between the lines — so to speak — to understand the unspoken request for me to keep an eye on his interns while he was away.
From the instant I stepped across the threshold, it was clear to me that the office had fallen to shambles the instant the interns lost their leader. The employees were milling about without aim while various alert sounds went more or less unheeded. Barely had I entered the room when the projector on the far wall went up in a cloud of smoke. The entire room ducked low save for the female centaur with crimson hair who reared upon her hind legs. "Mine!" she declared boldly, and lobbed a small capsule into the heart of the flames. A geyser sprayed out across the office, drenching anything within range.
"Sass!" whined a nasal voice. I turned in search of the source. There, in the corner of the office, I spotted him: a young watersprite out of place in the land of the air-breathers. A literal fish out of water, the poor soul was encumbered by a set of bulky, bubbling gill tubes that hung about his neck like an odd sort of pipe-organ. Being a considerate gnome, I was careful not to allow my gaze to rest long on the suffering watersprite's obvious affliction. "Why'd you use one of those ones? Dodo ordered in the foamy fireshells last week, and now the neighbours - glub! - are going to be mad at us for raining on them again."
"They'll get over it," said the centaur with a proud toss of her mane. "Besides, I bet they'd be even angrier if we didn't put the fire out."
The entire room stilled for a moment, lost in contemplation over the consequences of allowing such a blaze to go untamed.
"New rule," suggested a timid dwarfess as she finally rose from behind a counter, "Whoever uses the water fireshells cleans up the mess?"
I decided that this would be an appropriate time to make my presence known. "An excellent suggestion," I said approvingly, "Although it raises the question of whether or not this would slow emergency response time. I presume these explosions are a common occurrence in this office?"
As one, the interns turned towards me. "Who's that?" asked the dwarfess.
The moment they became aware of my presence, both the centaur and the watersprite groaned in relief.
—X—
"Artemis isn't here," Sass said immediately. "So you can leave now."
"Yeah," added Caltrop. "Y-you can definitely leave."
Dodo looked between the two of them in surprise. "Please tell me he's not another intern." She secretly doubted her ability to make the pompous-looking gnome quit.
"Worse," muttered Caltrop. "He's another consultant. Where's — glub — Lucia when we need her?"
Tweedir appeared oblivious to their irritation. "It has come to my attention that you are without a leader in this office for the next week and have come to offer my services so that you might —"
"Hey now," interrupted Sass. "Holly's just gone for the day. She'll be back tomorrow."
Tweedir straightened his tie. "Artemis Fowl the Second came to me directly," he said, puffing with his own self-importance. "Now, tell me: What is it you do around here again?"
The interns collectively rolled their eyes, made the simultaneous decision to ignore him, and turned back to their tasks without another word.
—X—
Holly paused on the windowsill, looking over her shoulder once more at the Fowl brothers. Artemis had his back to her so she could not read his expression, but the tension in his posture was clear enough. Myles waited patiently, probably recognizing that his older brother had resigned himself to an explanation.
"You have to understand, Myles —" began Artemis, and Holly finally took her cue to leave.
She didn't go far, though. Activating her wings, Holly rose along the side of the building to find a perch on the roof. The sky was still bright with stars and she tipped her head back to admire them even as her mind was racing. She'd turned off her comm the instant she left the room — whatever Artemis intended to say to his brother, it was clear that she would be much better-off avoiding liability for it.
And then the sound of sirens brought her back to Earth. Holly straightened as, in her ear, the line crackled back to life.
"There's no chance that's an ambulance I hear outside, is there?" said Artemis. It wasn't actually a question.
Holly rose to her feet and pulled the switch on her wings, rising above the roof to see the approaching vehicles. "Definitely police. What did you do?"
There was a pause as Artemis considered the possibilities. Holly was not reassured. Finally, he said, "Nothing comes to mind. …No, Myles, something more important just came up. Can you wait, please? We'll finish this conversation later."
From Holly's viewpoint, she could see the officers striding towards the house. "Your family does associate with a lot of criminals. Could they be here for one of your guests?"
"Considering my luck?" responded Artemis. "Unless proven otherwise, we'll have to presume that —" He cut off then, and Holly heard him apologize to someone nearby as he moved past them. As the officers had disappeared into the manor by this point, there was nothing else for Holly to watch from above. She lowered the throttle on her wings and dropped down once again. At the same time, she was putting a call out on a second line.
Foaly picked up so quickly, his hand must have been hovering over the button. "I know where you are and I was just about to call. What happened and how long do we have until the world explodes?"
"Relax, it's probably a misunderstanding," Holly said, even though she barely believed this herself.
The screen on her visor flicked on to show a copy of the arrest warrant.
"Oh," sighed Holly. "Oh no."
—X—
"What do you mean he's been arrested?" Dodo asked in confusion.
On the other end of the video call, Foaly threw his hands up in dismay. "I mean I am staring at a police car video feed right now. He's been put in the back of the car and everything. What has your department done recently that might have been viewed as illegal? I'm not judging you, per say, but any excuse to pull him in for questioning would have done it."
"No, you don't g-get it," glubbed Caltrop, folding his arms indignantly across his chest. "We're very, very careful to not be traced." If LEPfoul had been in full communication with the main body of the LEP, Caltrop would likely have pointed out that if they were able to evade the detection of the Changelings with whom they crossed paths, there was no way a local precinct would have caught any of their trails. Instead, he just scowled.
"Yeah, dude. I seriously can't see anything from our end that woulda caused this one. Whatever's going down is so not on us!"
"Wait," said Foaly, growing still. "In the background - am I hearing me?"
Into the view of the frame slid Icky. His radio-shaped console box had been mounted on a series of rails that ran around the office's ceiling, allowing him free movement between workstations. "Hey dude! I've missed seeing you around, bro!"
"Why are you there?" Foaly asked in horror. Then something else sank in. "Wait - they gave you a track?" His eyes flickered, landing on Dodo. "You gave him a track!?"
"He asked politely, and we're going to load his box up with firefighting foam caps so -" Dodo began, before Foaly cut her off.
"I've said no to a track for years! When did this happen! Did you just move over there today? Sass!"
"Dude, of course not!" Icky protested, insulted. "I've been here for ages. This is my home. My second home. I copied myself onto a new harddrive, dude, so I could still hang out with you back at your place. Never know what you might need a babysitter on short notice, right? Let me tell you, they need a babysitter over here all right. Have you met some of these interns? Duuuuuude. Oh - and by the way, I totally chose my own name! You can call me Icarus!"
"You chose a -!? Sass!"
"You said Uncle Foaly gave you permission to come over here!" protested Sass, turning to Icky with a stomp of her foot. "You lied!"
"My AI is capable of lying?" said Foaly, flabbergasted. A moment later, the implications of this sank in and he slumped in his chair, wiping a tear of pride from his eye. "I built an AI that's chosen a name, and is capable of lying."
"They grow up so fast," muttered Sass, casting Icarus a dirty look.
—X—
Interpol agent Warren Freyne had, admittedly, not been assigned to the Fowl case for very long. It was a file with a reputation that preceded it; despite recent years of inactivity, it was notorious for causing a high burn-out rate amongst the hapless agents set in charge of it. Some even whispered that it was cursed. Either way, association with the case generally did not bode well for a young, tenacious agent's future career prospects.
Of course, as he determinedly chewed through a piece of the stringiest turkey he had ever had the misfortune of crossing paths with, the distant future was the farthest thing possible from Warren's mind. All he cared about was getting through this holiday meal - and the accompanying social interaction - intact.
All that changed the moment his phone went off. Freyne glanced down at the screen, praying for anything that would help him avoid another story regarding his mother-in-law's bunions. Yet, even in his desperation, it took a moment for the contents of the alert to sink in. Fingers trembling, he slid his phone back into his pocket and adjusted his tie. He looked around the table with wide eyes before a wild smile spread across his face.
"Warren?" asked his mother-in-law. "What are you smiling about over there?"
"Definitely not your corns," he proclaimed. He slammed both hands against the table, his thumb catching the rim of his plate to send an avalanche of gravy and mashed potatoes cascading into his mother-in-law's lap. "You are a horrible shrew of a woman, and I am leaving! Hold. My. Calls!"
"Warren!" exclaimed his horrified wife.
"I'm going to Ireland!" he shouted, already halfway to the door. "Somebody FINALLY brought in the Fowl kid. Petty theft, if you'd believe it! There is a god! Merry Christmas to me!"
—X—
When Holly finally caught up to Artemis, he was waiting in one of the local jail's intake cells. His peaceful manner was at odds with the rest of the inmates, who had worked themselves up into a frenzy. The guards in the hall were nervously clutching their weapons, prepared to react should the situation result in a riot.
Holly dropped down on the bench beside him and tapped his arm four times to let him know she was there. Artemis slid his hand to the right to tap twice in response.
"Every now and then, I remember why people keep trying to kill you," Holly said, regarding the scene unfolding before them. "At least there aren't any goblins spitting fire yet."
"Yet?"
"It's my job to think of the worst case scenarios. Not to mention, worst case scenarios are an occupational hazard since I met you."
Artemis's mouth twitched and he nodded toward an air conditioning unit on the far wall. "If the goblins were smart, they would aim there."
"But they're not. They're goblins."
"Which means there is still a high chance of a fireball hitting an air vent by accident. The holding cell has been fireproofed but the air ducts lead towards parts of the building that are not. It'd take an unlucky ricochet, but we are talking worst-case scenarios, so let us assume the fireball makes it through the vent. The fire alarm would go off, prompting an evacuation. By that time, the south-west hallway would already be impassible, forcing a detour through the west courtyard of the building."
Holly winced. "Harder to keep order in an open space."
"Especially with goblins around. It'd be chaos."
She paused to consider the implications. "It sounds like you're planning a breakout," said Holly suspiciously.
"I have no need to plan one," Artemis responded seriously, raising an eyebrow as though insulted that she would even imply that he would need to put more than thirty seconds of forethought into the matter. "But the evidence against me is all circumstantial. As it stands, I can't be formally charged. So long as I play by the book, they cannot hold me for anything."
Holly studied his face before concluding that he was not actually planning anything else. "So why the riot?"
"I thought we might want to talk without notice. Clearly I was correct."
"So you started a riot?"
"I only said three words the entire time I've been here," he protested.
Holly narrowed her eyes. "Which words?"
He told her. Holly was less than impressed. "Think about what you've done," she sighed.
"Oh, believe me, I have. I've also considered what I have not done, which brings me back to the reason I'm here. I assume your presence here means you have found some new lead into why someone would choose to frame me for something as petty as -" His face twisted scornfully, "Home robbery."
Rather than respond, Holly grabbed Artemis's shoulder and threw him to the ground — a motion that would have looked suspicious had anyone been watching. Luckily, everyone was busy paying attention to the fact that the air conditioning unit had just been pried from the wall by a team of three particularly determined inmates. Artemis looked back over his shoulder at the section of the bench where he had been sitting a moment before. The spot was now occupied with the smashed remains of the unit.
"A home without anything worth stealing, that is," he added after a moment's thought as guards finally began to involve themselves in the situation inside the holding cell. "Otherwise the motivations might be more clear."
Holly made a sound of agreement. "We think someone's trying to get you out of the way — who or why, we don't know yet. The Butlers are back at the manor keeping an eye on the systems should anyone attempt to hack in through the security. The interns are attempting to trace the origin of the evidence against you."
A loud whistle pierced the air. Both Holly and Artemis winced.
"And you came here," observed Artemis. "Thank you."
Holly brushed it off. "Of course, even that is not the worst case scenario. Guess what would be waiting in the west courtyard of the police station?"
"Giant squid? Trolls? Crickets?"
"Worse. Lucia."
—X—
The hapless interns were huddled in a knot, confiding with each other in hushed tones when I reentered the room. I caught strains of the vicious gossip the instant I drew near — accusations of illegal activities and scandal. What could possibly be of such importance that these employees should deem it necessary to deviate from their regular work routines? Very little, I believed. Doubtless, I told myself, these interns were merely wasting time under the excuse that their supervisor was still aboveground under pretence of completing the Ritual even as Artemis Fowl the Second was out of the office.
"What are we discussing?" I inquired helpfully as I drew near to the group. The interns looked up, craning their necks towards me in unison like a flamboyance of startled flamingoes.
"Nothing," proclaimed the water-sprite, visibly struggling to make his voice heard amidst the monstrous tubes that encircled his face.
"Absolutely nothing," agreed the dwarfess, nervously looking about the room as though frightened of the repercussions that might befall her were she to admit to a wrongdoing.
Overhead, there came the sound of whirring rotors and mechanical machinery. When I raised my head, it was to see a miniature silver box slide towards me along a track that had been set in the ceiling. Green lights flickered in a show of excitement. A thrill of my own tickled my spine for this - this was the artificial intelligence I had heard so much about. "Dudes," exclaimed a voice that I recognized as the particular strains associated with the Lower Elements Police's well-known centaur technologist, yet with a hint of artificiality. "I've been crunching the numbers and running double checks through all our stuff. Like, when we were talking to Foaly earlier we were totally winging it and covering each other's backs and that was great — but there's actually no way Fowl was arrested because of something we did. So we're totally in the clear! …Also totally in the dark on this one."
The water-sprite heaved a dejected sigh, as though this latest misfortune was too much for his already traumatic existence to bear. "Well, you tried. Thanks, Icky!"
I bristled with indignation for the insulting name the intern had bestowed upon this brilliant machine. Yet the artificial intelligence merely carried on along its track, oblivious to the great injustice that had befallen it — ah, to bear an artificial heart impervious to the whims and slanders of the cruel world and those that inhabit it!
Yet, more momentous matters cried piteously for my attention. "Artemis Fowl the Second has been arrested?" Oh, horror beyond all previously known horrors! What trouble had befallen Foul Team's courageous and brilliant leader to lead him to enemy ground?
It was at that time that another centaur trotted boldly into the room. "It's raining on our ceiling," he declared loudly. "Again." This must have been the much-reviled head of the advertising agency that continued to reside in the office suite one floor below our very feet.
The Foul Team's own centaur placed her hands upon her hips. "Well, we're in the middle of something that's actually important. Sorry for your ceiling. Dude." Yet something told me she felt nothing akin to remorse.
"Oh yes," responded the stranger angrily. "I heard something about that. Artemis Fowl in jail? About time."
And then the fiery equine addressed the head of the advertising company, declaring in a strong voice, "I bet you he's innocent." A hush fell upon the room, my own breath arrested by the shock of this development. "I bet you a canary he's innocent."
She glared about the room as though daring any one of us to disagree. The silence hung heavy. Then, with a deep breath, the head of advertisement threw his fist down upon the table. He said, in a voice hard and cold as ice, "Centaur, one of our pixies brought a hamster to work this morning. You're on."
Within minutes, a friendly rivalry had been turned into a harsh and divisive war. Sass, suddenly our brave and defiant leader against all the odds, flipped her hair in a carefully dismissive motion. "Come on," she told us briefly eyes scanning the advertising agency's office with scorn. "Let's roll." And though we had nowhere to go, we turned as one away from the intruder and returned to the task at hand.
"Sass," said the dwarfess with an anxious glance over her shoulder, "You just bet our canary. That's a terrible idea. That's the worst idea I've ever heard!"
The poor dear must have suffered from a weakness of the constitution, for the current drama seemed to be tearing her apart. I reached out and pressed my hand upon her shoulder in comfort. "My dear, all will be well. I promise you now that I shall remain on these premises until this matter is resolved. You will not endure this trial alone."
"Actually, I've got to go," said the dwarf, sidestepping my outstretched arm. With no further ceremony she scurried from the room, like a mother hen attempting to find a more secluded place in which to mourn her fallen kin.
—X—
Artemis raised an eyebrow when he saw who walked into the interrogation room. "And here I was hoping my Interpol file had gone dormant."
The agent paused, still in the process of pulling his badge from his jacket pocket. "Well, it did for six months. We're kind of curious about that." He frowned. "Wait, did someone tell you I was coming? Because I didn't even know I was coming here until about three hours ago."
Artemis merely folded his hands upon the table. "No, nobody told me. Welcome, Agent Freyne."
The man blinked, obviously reassessing the pale young man on the other side of the table. Even though Artemis clearly already knew both his name and credentials, he slid the badge across the table for inspection anyways. Fowl ignored it.
Freyne finally took a seat, leaning forward in an attempt at friendly conversation. "This is a first for me. Our organization is usually a little more careful with our identities."
"Well, you know a lot about me. I thought we should be on equal footing."
"I've been on this case less than a year!"
Artemis smirked. "Don't exaggerate. You've been on this case for three and a half months, though I suppose some slight congratulations are in order as you've already outlasted your predecessor by seventeen days. Do you have the time?"
"Pardon?"
Just like that, his grin disappeared. "The time."
"Oh." Freyne raised his wrist reluctantly to examine his watch. "Eighteen minutes past midnight."
"Accounting for time zones, you have now outlasted your predecessor by seventeen days, five hours, and thirty-two minutes." He tilted his head to the side, judging. "Well, I suppose you must be giving it your best effort." Artemis raised his eyebrow and gave Freyne a pointed look, as though suggesting Freyne had been slacking on the case.
The agent bristled. "I was hoping this didn't have to be hostile and we could just talk. You and I both know you haven't been charged with anything. This isn't an interrogation, just a chat."
Artemis looked pointedly about the interrogation room of the police station and then spread his hands wide. "Chat away."
Despite all that he had been warned, the Interpol agent was still taken a little off-guard. "Just like that?"
"Agent Freyne, I am sure you have been over every element of my files with the finest-toothed comb you can muster. As a result, you must have concluded by now that I have nothing to hide," said Artemis, the smirk returning once more to his face. "Unless you think you failed to do a thorough enough job?"
"Fine. Let's start with something easy. How did you restore your family's fortune?"
"I kidnapped a leprechaun."
"Er - where did you go when you disappeared for three years?"
"I decided to step outside the timestream for a bit."
"Um. What about those six months right after the Techno-Crash. Where were you then?"
"Oh. I died, decided I didn't like it, and came back again."
Warren Freyne set both hands down upon the table, palms open and fingers spread. He slowly slid his chair back across the tiled floor, stood stiffly, and turned away. He paced the room once to compose himself, took a deep breath, and then sat down at the table once more.
Artemis was still smirking. "Going to try this again, are we? Take all the time you need. Seventeen days, five hours, and thirty-five minutes. I'm sure you're proud of yourself."
—X—
I noticed the water-sprite had returned to his desk, anxiously inputting variables into the system as his unfortunate breathing apparatus clunked away. I approached him immediately to offer what empathy I could. "Brave sprite, I applaud your efforts."
The water-sprite twisted about in his chair, frowning. Perhaps he was unused to such sympathy. "S-sorry?"
"No, my boy — don't apologize for your affliction! Your courage in the face of such crippling adversity is truly inspiring. I cannot imagine what toll it would take upon my psyche to live each day one clogged tube away from suffocation."
"Thanks for reminding me that I could — glub — die at any minute," he responded, failing to make eye contact. "Y'know, I'm, uh, gonna see where Dodo got to." And without another word, the poor soul was gone.
—X—
Freyne had been on the Fowl case for seventeen days, eight hours, and fifty-five minutes when he finally left the room to fetch a coffee. Funnily enough, he did not offer Artemis anything.
No sooner had he left the room than Artemis let his head drop, massaging his forehead with his fingertips in order to shield his face from the cameras. "Freyne is more determined than I expected," he whispered. "Since I'm not going to be allowed to leave until he decides he's done, it might be time for Plan B."
"Tired?" Holly smirked from her vantage point in the room behind the one-way mirror. "I thought you said you had nothing to hide. But really, you played by the book for longer than I expected."
"Plan B, Holly," he repeated tiredly.
"Fine," she said, already in the progress of calling in reinforcements. "By the way, I'm starting to see why you've forced so many psychiatrists into retirement. Freyne might not recover from this one."
Artemis sighed. "If I were trying to break him, believe me: you'd know."
—X—
No sooner had Freyne set his coffee upon the table than the door to the room opened to reveal a young woman dressed in evening wear and clutching a clipboard. Heels clicking as she entered the room without invitation, she strode straight towards the table, picked up the coffee, and threw it into the trash.
"Hey," protested Freyne. "I just got that."
"So get another. I need to speak to my client." She flicked out a business card. "Minerva Paradizo. I'm his legal council."
The agent examined the words on the card in confusion. "You're too young to be licensed."
"Oh? Tell that to my law degree." She tapped one toe impatiently and made a dismissive hand wave. Freyne made a motion towards the trash as though hoping to retrieve his coffee before he reluctantly allowed himself to be shooed from the room.
The door clicked shut and Minerva lowered herself into the chair opposite Artemis. "You look awful."
"Law degree?" he asked in response.
"After the situation in Denver, I decided to set aside a weekend." She set the clipboard down before her. "You're welcome for that, by the way."
Artemis shrugged. "I meant to thank you at the charity function. Then I was arrested."
"Really. Because I thought you were using your brothers as an excuse to hide in an alcove."
"Well, it would be a shame to be stood up," he said pointedly.
"Are we getting into that now? Because technically, you stood me up for three years."
"That doesn't count," he said immediately. "It was a busy day for me."
"Yes, sometimes people have those. In any case, there are three steps to get you out of here. First, say this." She jabbed at the paper on the clipboard between them.
Artemis held up a hand. "Hold on. I don't actually need legal counsel. I just need it to appear as though I have some."
Minerva stared at him steadily for a minute and then jabbed the paper again. "Second, cite this section of the criminal code."
"Minerva."
A third jab at the paper. From between clenched teeth, she continued, "Third. Shut up and give your most angelic smile."
Artemis almost succumbed to the temptation to roll his eyes. "Thanks for the advice. I assure you, I can handle it from here."
—X—
There before me stood a strange sight: a small yet fearsome beast barring his teeth from within a metal-framed cage. It was ferocious, with eyes that glittered intelligently and fur that shone golden in the fluorescent light of the office.
"But what creature is that?" I asked, and though I regarded this beast in horror, I could not hide the awe in my voice.
"Huh?" the centaur turned her gaze upon me and shrugged effortlessly. "Oh, the hamster? Fowl's out, he was innocent. We won the bet."
—X—
"They're harmless," Sass repeated, sighing loudly. "Come down from that desk."
Tweedir refused to budge.
"No, seriously, dude," said a passing Icarus. "There's only one feral creature that's gonna attack you in this office - well, two if you count dear cousin Sass - and in either case, you'll wanna be cowering under the desk, not on top of it."
Sass rolled her eyes, already trotting to the door. Ten minutes earlier Caltrop had texted her with the name of the coffee shop where he and Dodo had spent the past few hours, and - now that the office's newest pet was secure in his cage on her desk - decided it was past time to join them.
—X—
Holly was watching the stars again when Artemis joined her on the pavement outside the precinct. The light of the sun was just beginning to brighten the horizon, the stars above fading from sight.
"That bright one is actually a planet," he said quietly.
"I know," the elf replied, turning to him. "I took a course. And you look exhausted."
He gave a tired smile. "I know you did. And Minerva said so, too."
"At this point, I actually have to ask: I'm never going to find out what happened between you two, am I? Given the hostility in that room, I wouldn't have expected her to show up to bail you out."
Artemis nearly shrugged. "Probably not, no. And it's in the past. We've just talked about it and agreed that a good grudge is too entertaining to completely let go."
—X—
The office was devoid of any presence despite my own, and I was just beginning to suspect that it would soon be time for my departure when a timid young elf poked her head into the room. Her face creased with uncertainty as she peered through the dim shadows of the unoccupied space. When her eyes alighted upon me, relief flooded her expression and she tread forward with a renewed spring to her step.
"Hello," she greeted me, attempting to juggle a bundle of what I presumed to be personalized office supplies. "This is LEPfoul, right?"
"You are correct," I told her magnanimously. "Salutations and welcome to the Foul Team."
She blushed demurely and hesitated. "Should I just - put my stuff down anywhere? Or is there a special desk for new interns?"
It had only taken me a single day to assimilate entirely into the Foul Team to the point where they trusted me implicitly to run their office. I instructed the dear elf to take possession of the desk nearest to the door. After all, with the edition of the young elf, Ms. Feldspar would no longer be the newest intern on the team and therefore, would be able to upgrade to a new desk.
She had barely placed the bundle of possessions upon the surface of the desk when a glorious trill filled the air. Just as every cup of coffee holds its own aroma, so does every bird carry its own song. This one was powerful yet distinct with a bold finish and a hint of spice. No fading or warbling here. This call belonged to a bird who knew full well the noble spirit that soared within her heart.
I raised my arm in anticipation and whistled in response. When the yellow bird wheeled about the corner, the elf flinched. I held steady and whistled once more.
"Is that safe?" the elf whimpered, ducking behind her newly acquired desk. There was no time for a response. The canary was circling above me, her joyous cries echoing through the office. I whistled a third time in response and, at last, she alighted upon my arm.
"Wow," whispered the elf. "I'd heard horror stories about that bird. I guess she isn't as bad as everyone says."
I stroked the canary's feathers, admiring their pure colour. "My dear, I have spent several decades studying the Serinus canaria. They are a gorgeous species more in tune with the natural world and their own instincts than any other bird on the planet. One merely needs to understand them in order to properly communicate."
"I heard that bird shut down Police Plaza for three days, and she wasn't even there. I heard that bird took on a troll — and lived!"
I scratched the bird's plumage lovingly. "I believe the records say it was an entire colony of trolls."
—X—
Holly was exhausted by the time she arrived back in her apartment, as the only sleep she'd gotten in the past twenty-four hours had been the brief doze she'd caught while waiting in the shuttle port before returning belowground. Walking into the empty apartment felt strange, and she tensed for a moment before realizing that she simply was unused to returning from the shuttleport alone. Artemis, unsurprisingly, had elected to remain aboveground for the remainder of the holidays in an attempt to set the rest of his family at ease. As they had expected, somebody had attempted to access his databases while he was in the precinct — yet with the interns having fled the office, nobody had caught the alert in time to properly trace it to a source. That particular mystery, for now, would have to go unsolved.
She dropped her bag heavily on one of the kitchen chairs, and paused. There on the table, closest to the chair where she always set her bag, was a small golden gift box. Having just returned from a situation with so many loose ends, Holly was instantly suspicious. Her hand had fallen to her neutrino before she saw the note with her name written in Artemis's hand beside the box; even so, she hesitated before peering closer.
Holly, read the note, Given the last twenty-four hours, I understand that your first instinct will be to shoot this box. Please don't. Regards, Artemis.
She flicked the safety back on and used the tip of the gun to prod the lid open.
And then the room filled with stars.
Holly's jaw dropped. She whirled about, catching sight of familiar constellations and — there, the bright planet that Artemis had pointed out just that morning. The stars were suspended in the air around her, painted across the ceiling, and draped over all four walls. The elf even thought she could see the occasional cloud drifting across the room, propelled by an imaginary atmosphere. Holly extended an arm through the nearest nebula, watching as the stars danced across her skin. Finally it occurred to her to peer back down; inside the gift box, a tiny metal device hummed happily away. It should have been physically impossible for it to emit enough light to fill the entire kitchen from its recessed vantage point — yet somehow, it did. Curious, she held a hand over the box. The kitchen immediately dimmed, though the occasional star still slipped through the cracks between her fingers.
The moment she withdrew her hand once more, the room again burst into light.
—X—
Artemis answered on the first ring. "Back home?"
"I have questions," Holly began immediately. "First off: Who did you get to break into my apartment?"
He grinned. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Why do you always assume I am planning to either break in or out of my current location?"
"Because usually you are. Do I have to worry about Mulch walking in at odd hours now?"
"No more than he did before," Artemis assured her. "How do you like the stars?"
Holly raised her head. "Technically, I'm looking at a planet right now."
From his room in Ireland, Artemis looked out the window at the evening sky. "Excellent. So am I."
—X—
Author's Note:
The Christmas episode has been in the Foul Team plan from the very start — a lot of television shows have holiday-themed episodes so we thought it would be fun to include one here. We didn't exactly plan for it to land at the beginning of July, though! Not to mention, Christmas is totally the anniversary of Artemis and Holly's first meeting. We'll leave it up to you whether the box at the end was a Christmas present, another apology, or both. - Winged
If you were at all curious, "powerful yet distinct with a bold finish and a hint of spice" is almost word-for-word the description that Starbucks uses for its holiday roast of coffee. Happy Christmas-in-July, everyone! -Freud
Oh, also: We thought it would be hilarious to showcase the interns from Tweedir's point of view. I have since discovered that I have a love-hate relationship with his voice. NEVER AGAIN, Freud. NEVER. AGAIN. - Winged
Agreed, if only for the sake of your own sanity. Winged, you still have a twitch. - Freud