EPISODE 3.02: ON THE BRIGHT SIDE
In which our intrepid hero hears the fable of the three brave adventurers, participates in an unlikely prison escape, and receives some percussive maintenance.
-x-
Once upon a time, three brave adventurers embarked on a voyage to the land of Faerie to find their true selves. The eldest had been there many times before; he knew the Faerie tongue and the source of all magic and the secret paths between worlds. The second had only seen the Fae from afar, but he had long studied the clues to their existence in order to find a piece of magic to save his sister. The youngest had grown up with stories of the Fae and was gifted with the ability to see magic in all things; she had once known more, before a trickster elf stole her memories and hid them deep beneath the ground.
The adventurers travelled in a clever ship designed to navigate the secret paths straight to the doorstep of Faerie itself. Having been in such a craft before, the eldest advised his companions to allow the ship's magic to work as designed. But the second traveller was less trusting of the Fae, being aware of the tricks their people had played on the youngest, and fought for control. The dark energies of their bickering confused the ship and, with a great motion and many loud noises, it careened off the safe path to crash in the dark tunnels of the trolls.
The troll tunnels were the most dangerous of all the lands surrounding Faerie, and the adventurers were all very frightened in their own ways. Armed only with a feeble light-wand, they ventured from the wreck of their ship in search of a way back to the safe paths. After a long and fearful trek, they came upon a great stone bridge - and there, on the other side, was freedom!
But, of course, the stone bridge was guarded by the most fearsome of all the trolls.
The eldest knew the Faerie tongue and the source of all magic and the secret paths between worlds, but he took one look at the troll guarding the bridge and urged the others to turn away. "We must leave," he advised them, "It's safer to go back. Surely one of the faeries will see the wreckage of our ship and come to investigate!"
The second had long studied the Fae from afar, and was aware of the tricks they could play. "Perhaps the faeries crashed our ship," he suggested, "We will receive no help from them. Let us search for another path - this bridge can not be the only way to escape the troll tunnels."
But the youngest had grown up with fairy tales in her head and the ability to see magic in all things, and thus it was she who saw the magic of the troll bridge and understood how the travellers might cross. She explained to them her plan and gave a kiss for luck before setting off on her very own.
Travelling through the dark without her companions was even scarier than before. But the youngest knew that in fairy tales and adventures, one had to be brave. So she followed the path up to the top of the stone bridge where, sure enough, the most fearsome of all the trolls was waiting for her.
The troll was even more frightening up close than she could have imagined, but the youngest stood her ground. "My," she told him, "You must be the king of the trolls."
Confused by her words (for most travellers who attempted to cross the bridge could do nothing but gibber in panic), the troll cocked his head to the side.
"I haven't a chance against you," continued the youngest traveller, "For though I am small and quick, you are immense and powerful and could surely eat me in a single bite. But I promise that if you let me pass, my companions will soon follow - and they are both much larger and tastier than I."
The troll was uninterested in bargains, and decided that it would rather eat all three of the travellers rather than allow one to pass. It lunged for the youngest, who squeaked in alarm and rolled right underneath and out of the way and across the bridge! But though she managed to evade the troll's teeth and tusks, the girl had not escaped entirely unharmed: one claw had run down the length of her leg and stolen the boot right off her foot! Therefore when the youngest traveller attempted to walk down the far side of the bridge, her wounded leg gave out. She fell and tumbled down to the bottom of the rocky ravine whereupon she hit her head and passed out.
It is unknown how long the youngest of the three adventurers lay at the bottom of the troll's tunnel. Indeed, she might never have woken at all but for a kindly magical canary that fended off the advances of the trolls while she slept -
-x-
Hunched in the metal remains of a transport ship deep beneath the ground, body aching and head throbbing, Artemis finally hit breaking point. "A kindly magical canary?" he snapped. "This story makes less sense the longer you talk. You were supposed to explain where we are, who you are, and who I am."
Maybe it was the fact that he felt so sick he could hardly think, but he rather doubted any explanation involving Faerie and trolls and magic could be trusted. (Although, oddly enough, it had been the kindly canary that had truly broken his suspension of disbelief.) Frustrated, Artemis clenched his hand around his whining pen, wishing he could safely turn the irritating sound off and gain some peace to think.
Equally exasperated, the girl crossed her arms. The movement of the light in her hands caused the sparkles on her tulle skirt to glitter. "That's what I'm trying to do."
"Either you're telling me a fairy tale, or you're speaking in a deliberate code and I lack the key."
"It is a fairy tale, but it's also real! You and me and Becquerel - Bec - we're the three adventurers! Our ship crashed and I crossed the bridge and I think - I think you two thought I was dead because you left without me. I'm not mad. I understand. It's hard to think straight when things get scary, and it's okay! But I didn't die thanks to the magical canary, who led me to safety -"
"Magical canary," Artemis repeated, rolling his eyes.
"- and it took me a while to reach the surface and find a phone and internet but then I realized pretty quickly that the fairies must have stolen Bec's memories just the way they'd once taken mine. And that meant if I showed up alive, they'd steal my memories again. And I really don't want anybody messing around in my head! Better to let everyone think I'm dead. It happens all the time in fairy tales: the adventurer has to fake their death and then everyone's surprised in the end when the hero turns up alive after saving the kingdom!"
Artemis buried his face in his hands. "D'arvit," he muttered. "Somehow, the more you talk, the more certain I am that you are telling the truth and this is actually happening."
Demia sighed, pursing her lips in thought. Then she took a seat on the stone beside Artemis. "Our adventure went wrong because we didn't work together. The three of us, we each have our roles to play but it can get confusing if we don't trust in each other. You're the one who knows the Faerie tongue and the paths between worlds; we should have trusted you to get us to Faerie. And Bec shouldn't have fought with you - his job was to use all his research and knowledge to bargain with the fairies."
One eye peered out from behind Artemis's hand. "Bargain for what?"
"My memories! That's all I want. Listen. I've been planning to finish our original journey. The stakes are higher now: I still don't have my memories, you're clearly not well, and now the faeries have Bec. Who knows what they're doing to him? What if they've stolen all his memories again, too? They've already taken mine and yours."
Was that why he couldn't remember anything? Had the fairies wiped his mind as well, and then dumped him in the tunnels for the trolls to finish off? The thought was unsettling, and Artemis's mouth hardened into a line.
"I've already got a plan. Plus, you should know that something else happened a few months ago." The girl bit her lip, her eyes glowing. She tipped her hands towards him. "Artemis, I have magic now!"
And sure enough, now that he was looking directly into her hands it was clear there was no obvious source of light. Instead, a glowing ball hovered over her mittens like a miniature sun, brightening and fading as she moved her hands around it. He looked up at her face again to see that she was beaming, her smile just as bright as her magical light.
"Magic," she repeated, talking quickly. "Light is just energy, and so is magic, and now it listens to me! Which has made it easier to stay hidden, for sure. There was - I think it was some kind of explosion, a few months ago? It affected a lot of us. Everybody who's different. You, Bec, and me? We're totally not the only ones!" She beamed widely. "They're calling us 'Changelings,' which is funny because I think I came up with that term? Anyways, you must have magic too, but I don't know what yours does yet. Clearly, this means our quest has a second chance!"
Artemis realized that his hand had, again, gone to the gold coin strung around his throat. He thought back to the strange lightness he had experienced before losing consciousness - the sensation of his entire being threatening to dissolve into sparks. Even though he felt more solid now, Artemis couldn't shake the feeling that something in his core had shifted. It felt - well, blue.
Perhaps magic was the most reasonable explanation, or maybe there was another plausible chain of events that had led him to regain consciousness alone in a darkened cavern surrounded by trolls. Either way, he desperately needed answers - the headache wasn't getting any better, and he could still feel the sparks tugging every time he closed his eyes. It was nothing like the control Demia seemed to have over the light that danced between her fingertips, and he was sure that the moment he stopped consciously trying to contain the sparks, they would swallow him whole.
If I am now in possession of magic, something has gone very wrong with it. I need help, fast.
Demia was still talking, which Artemis was starting to realize was something she did very well. "I've been rebuilding the ship we crashed before," she said. "You found the bits of scrap that I didn't end up needing, but I'm having some problems repairing the navigational system. I'd gone back here to see if i was missing anything, and found you. Lucky, right? You showed up just in time to fix everything!"
She pulled a tablet from her pocket and passed it over. Reluctantly, he peered down at the screen. After a moment of studying the arrayed symbols, he shrugged. "Well. Of course you're having problems reassembling the code. The programming language itself isn't overly complex, but the screen is displaying the fairy's language in spirals. Interesting. That seems counter-intuitive, but I'll bet anything it's a visual cue to deliberately discourage anybody from doing exactly what we're attempting now."
Demia jumped up, beaming. "See? You can fix it!"
Artemis crossed his arms, not budging. "Naturally. Though I refuse to go anywhere with you until I know more about this plan of yours."
"We need to get Bec free, of course! I've got a - I mean, I know someone who can help - he's already belowground, and he's promised that he'll do what he can to get me closer. With your help, too, it'll be even easier. Look!" Demia lifted her other hand to smooth her skirt, fingers lightly tracing over a knot in the hem. As Artemis watched, the girl's face changed: sharper angles, longer lines. Her complexion gained a faint green tint, and her ears became pointed. Demia grinned once the transformation was complete, revealing sharp teeth.
"My friend gave me this tech - it's just a prototype, but it means I can pass myself off as a fairy. I'm short, so nobody's going to notice me in a crowd. And they won't notice the shuttle, since it was one of theirs to begin with! So we can get in. My friend will tell you more about what's happening from there, since we're going to have to change our plan a little bit now that you're here. And you can help with that, okay? We need to trust each other."
Though the pace of her speech made his exhausted head spin, Artemis realized she was right. He didn't have to be complicit in any prison break, but there was nothing to be lost by playing along up to a point. By completing Demia's shuttle repairs and accepting her help to reach the fairy's city, he could buy himself time to come up with a more concrete plan.
"One last thing," he said idly, finally beginning to tap away at the screen. "While I've forgotten absolutely everything about myself, I'm curious why you were so confident I would still understand Gnommish?"
"Well, you definitely have a bit of an accent? Also you've been swearing in it!"
He opened his mouth, stopped to think, and blinked in perplexment. "Interesting. I don't actually have a direct translation for that particular word in my mind."
"Yeah. Bec wouldn't tell me what it meant, either. But I could guess. Context?" the girl said helpfully. "Maybe you're just used to talking in Gnommish and spend a lot of time with someone who swears a lot?"
Indignantly, Artemis brushed some of the dirt from his wrinkled tie. "Do I look like that's the kind of company I keep? If there's one thing I still know about myself, it's that I limit myself to company of more refined language."
-x-
Now
"D'arvit, Foaly, you cowpóg!"
"Oh, good," the centaur sulked, having finally decided it was safe to unmute his earpiece. "Cowpóg. You've finally calmed down a little."
"Artemis broke Becquerel Jones out of prison on your watch!" Holly spat.
Foaly scuffed a hoof at the tiled floor. "They're not going to get far. I'd bet anything they're still in the building."
"Oh, you would, would you?"
"It's not like they have anywhere to escape to."
Holly grit her teeth. "Other than the recycled shuttle that's been built out of the wreck of the old one. Which funnily enough, Foaly, managed to fly right into Haven's shuttleport without a single blip in the sensors. Mind explaining to me exactly how he pulled that one off?"
Foaly nervously tapped at his keyboard, swishing his tail. He whinnied slightly under his breath.
Holly's voice lowered. "What is it?"
"I may have made a mistake. Except it wasn't so much my mistake, or even a mistake at all, so much as a technical oversight in the automated system."
"What happened?"
Nervously, the centaur cleared his throat. "Well, it turns out that when a shuttle crashes so spectacularly that it doesn't leave behind any retrievable pieces to run through a formal recycling process, it doesn't actually get removed from the system. Administrative error. Which means that if, hypothetically speaking, someone were stupid enough to crawl into a troll den to retrieve enough electronic components to build a new guidance system out of the wreckage of the old one…"
The elf's jaw clenched. "The new one would already be registered in the system. So that's how they got in. This is seriously the first we've heard of this administrative error?"
"It's never been a problem before!" Foaly protested. "That we know of."
"You realize that this isn't even the first time we've dealt with a recycled shuttle, right?"
"I was going to say: We have a bad track record with recycled shuttles so I figure even if they do manage to hop back into it, I'll just send you to intercept them."
"'Intercept them?' Foaly, you were supposed to stall Artemis, not pat him on the head and send him on his way with a fugitive in tow!"
The centaur's tail twitched again. "He walked right through Police Plaza without notice. You said he ran into somebody else in the tunnels. Well, whoever they were, they've been doing a good job of blinding all my cameras; that's why it took so long for the sensors to register anything. I had to load a software patch to compensate for the glare; the cameras in the cell block are just rebooting now."
"You realize they'll be long gone by the time you get that tech up and running again, don't you?"
And, in a way, Holly was right. The prisoner had long since disappeared. But someone else was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the cell, staring into the camera with one raised eyebrow.
Foaly reached for the makeshift bracelet he'd thrown together out of an old wire and a handful of silver nuts and bolts. "Would you look at that. Holly, I've found Artemis. Call you back."
-x-
44 minutes ago
Artemis's head was still spinning by the time he and Demia disembarked from the makeshift shuttle in an unused bay of Haven's main shuttleport. The girl looked him over with concern. "Are you sure you feel okay? Because I can fetch you a barf bag if you think you're going to-"
"I'm fine," he said shortly. He let his eyes trail over the new surroundings, trying to recall if anything felt familiar. Surely, if he'd been here before…
A screech echoed through the hangar, and Artemis nearly jumped out of his skin. "What was-? D'arvit!"
A yellow blur had detached itself from the ceiling beams in order to dive bomb the new arrivals. Automatic reflexes kicked in; Artemis grabbed Demia's arm and yanked her to the ground, curling around her as a shield against the attack. The golden missile shot harmlessly through the space the girl had been occupying only seconds before, then rose dramatically into the air to come around for another attempt.
"Calm down, Artemis," said Demia, wiggling out of his grip. "It's okay! This is the kindly magical canary I told you about!"
Before Artemis could stop her, she'd risen to her feet and lifted an arm into the air. The bird screeched again, the very air seeming to shiver with the horrifying sound. There was a flurry of flapping wings, outstretched claws… and then the bird had settled comfortably on Demia's forearm.
"Ah, the bird found you. Good." A human boy stepped out of the shadows to cross the room with brisk steps. He was small, blonde, and wearing a sweater vest and dress pants combo that could best be described as business-casual.
"Eep!" Demia stiffened. "Gus?"
"In the flesh." He stopped in front of the two of them and clasped his hands behind his back. "Hello, Artemis. It's good to finally meet you."
-x-
The LEPfoul operatives were lined up and waiting to greet everyone by the time Freyne ushered the delegation inside. Gus mingled with the other humans, fairly sure that no one had noticed his earlier departure from the group in order to meet with Demia and Artemis in the shuttle hangar. It had been simple enough to slip back into the crowd as everyone entered the LEPfoul offices to stand in a crooked semi-circle, waiting for the watersprite to give his speech.
"We are s-s-so excited to work - glub - with you," he began, and launched right into describing what an excellent interspecies opportunity the upcoming collaboration would be for everyone. If this were not the LEPfoul offices, he likely would have made an excellent speech.
However, nothing could ever be that easy. Maybe it was merely that Lucia was unhappy to be left out of the introductions. Maybe it was because she thought this gathering was a precursor to another revolutionary event. Or - most likely - Lucia had just been released into the crowd by Gus. Two sentences into Caltrop's welcome talk, the canary let out a fearsome cry that made the hair rise on the back of every single diplomats' neck. Then, in a flash of yellow feathers, she attacked.
The fairies had scattered into their instinctive evasive maneuvers and the humans had been abandoned. It was the perfect opportunity. Gus ducked beneath the nearest unoccupied desk, slipped a small memory disc from his pocket, and jammed it into clustered terminal port pressed up against the wall. For a moment he wondered if the pilfered tech would take; he'd built the disc based on fairy schematics passed on by his hacker friends close to a year ago.
"F-fast reflexes," said a voice right beside him. Gus swivelled and found himself face to face with one of those same hacker friends. Still, couldn't trust him right away.
The human nodded unperturbed, as if ducking for cover was only natural. "My name's Augustus Montgomery, by the way," he said, holding his hand out in a self-assured manner. "I have a feeling we'll be seeing a lot of each other." He paused, before adding, "Well, I know your team has already seen a lot of me. Thank you for the surveillance. I really appreciate it."
The water sprite gulped, stammering.
Gus rolled his eyes, slipping into the mesmer. "Move to that desk over there, I'm feeling crowded."
Caltrop went.
With no further deliberation, Gus retrieved the disc - now glowing a content shade of green - from the wall port and (his movements mostly obscured in the chaos of the room) let himself out of the LEPfoul office.
-x-
Now
When Foaly arrived at the cell, Artemis was still seated in a meditative pose in the midst of Bec's dislodged furniture. The human's own dishevelled appearance only served to strengthen the impression that the room had been subject to an extremely localized hurricane.
Warily, Foaly folded his arms. "So, did your criminal friends leave you behind? Or am I about to get jumped?"
Artemis raised his head. "Actually," he said, "They departed immediately after snapping me out of the mesmer."
"A likely story," retorted Foaly, though a twitch of his tail conveyed his uncertainty. It really was a likely story for why Artemis Fowl would suddenly turn on the LEP. If someone had been waiting to catch him as he fell out of the time vortex, then -
With a start, Foaly remembered the bundle of silver in his hands. "Hold out your arm," he said, trotting forward into the cell. He grabbed Artemis's hand before the human could react and slid the wire-and-silver bracelet onto his wrist. "There. Don't take that off."
"Silver. To anchor me to the present time, I presume?"
"You presume? What else would it-?" He broke off to peer closer at Artemis's face. His hand shot out again, this time to pull open the lid of Artemis's left eye before prodding at the eyeball.
Artemis slapped his hands away. "Ow! Why would you do that?"
"You're not wearing contacts," muttered Foaly, "And you do look like you're Artemis Fowl…"
"Who else would I be?" The human scrambled to his feet. "And that's a serious question, because I have no idea. The first thing I remember is waking up in the troll tunnels with that girl. Since then I've met plenty of people who seem to know me, all of whom seem to want to use and control me - but you were the only one who was actually worried about where I was and relieved that I had returned. Hence why, upon recovering from the mesmer, I hit the alarm. You're welcome, by the way."
"Memory loss?" Foaly perked up. "That sounds more like it. Don't worry, Mud Boy, I wasn't the only one who was worried. Now, back to my Ops Booth. I'm going to run some tests, and if you're telling the truth about the mesmer, you're going to tell me everything that you've been up to since you got back."
-x-
9 minutes ago
Once Gus had successfully shepherded the bewildered human delegates back from their ill-fated visit to the LEPfoul department headquarters, it was a simple matter for Artemis and a disguised Demia to mingle with the group on their way into Police Plaza. Only Freyne paid a moment's attention to the newest addition to the group, blinking uncertainly at Artemis.
"He looks-?" he began, before Gus stepped into his line of vision.
"You do not need to pay attention to him."
"I… I don't need to pay attention to him," Freyne decided, and led everyone through the main doors without further questions.
"See? Simple," Gus whispered to Demia, a smug smile crossing his face. "And I've got the plans, as promised. Now we know exactly where we need to go." He held up his phone, swiping the screen to reveal the floorplan images downloaded from the LEPfoul servers.
She beamed, peering at the screen. "That's perfect! So… that hallway there? Quick! No one's looking!" And before Gus could warn her to be careful, she'd darted away from the group and into the shadow of a doorway across the room.
"Alright, Artemis," sighed Gus, "I guess this is the part where we follow Demia. Just don't be obvious about leaving the group, got it?"
"Don't be obvious," repeated Artemis. "Got it."
The two of them peeled off from the milling herd of humans to join Demia across the room, where she was inspecting a panel on the wall beside the security door. "It should just let you in, I think?" she told Artemis. "If you just put your hand to the scanner?"
Artemis did so. Sure enough, the light above the panel turned green and the door clicked as it unlocked.
"Excellent," said Gus, pulling the door open with a flourish. "After you."
From there, it was simple work to make their way through the halls towards the wing of holding cells where Bec was being held. Demia used her magic to distort any cameras they passed with light glares, while Artemis's security clearance gave the trio easy access through the building. Only occasionally did the trio have to pause at a junction while Gus inspected the downloaded blueprints to figure out which direction they had to turn.
Until, of course, they reached the cell block itself.
"They must not have given Artemis clearance to enter this part of the building," Demia fretted, biting her lip nervously as she watched the blinking red light over the security panel. It was the third time Artemis had tried his hand, and the third time he had been rejected.
Unperturbed, Gus turned to Artemis. "It looks like there's an option to just enter a code. Which means it's up to you, Artemis. You'll have to get the final codes for us. Don't worry, the centaur knows you; he should give them to you without too many questions." He tapped his chin in thought. "Actually, to be safe: You should use your magic. Jump ahead a few minutes to get the codes, then come right back. Got that?"
Artemis's eyes narrowed. "You realize my magic doesn't work like that? I'm fairly certain I can't just jump back and forth as I like."
"Can't you?" Gus repeated his instructions, this time layering his words with the mesmer. No sooner had he finished speaking than Artemis winked out of sight.
Demia bit her lip. "Are you sure he'll be able to come back? He's had a rough day already, and I don't think his magic has really settled properly. What if-?"
But before she could finish her thought, Artemis had reappeared. He seemed mildly dazed but otherwise unaffected by his trip through the time vortex.
"Excellent!" said Gus, clapping his hands. "You got the codes."
"I-" Artemis paused, closing his eyes to put his thoughts in order. "Yes, I got the codes."
-x-
Now
"You have no idea," said Artemis, interrupting his own story, "how irritating it is to know that your magic apparently works perfectly fine when someone else is controlling your mind."
-x-
6 minutes ago
Becquerel Jones was in time out. Or, if you chose to get technical about it, "solitary confinement."
Extremely solitary, and reasonably confined. He had no idea what he'd done to deserve such treatment. After all, he'd have assumed fairy prisons would be a little bit better-equipped to handle surly, telekinetically gifted inmates. Really, he was pretty sure he should be the one who was disappointed in them, not the other way around.
He was currently laying on his back in the centre of his cell, juggling prison furniture with his mind. The furniture HAD been attached to the floor in the recent past with some kind of fairy-engineered polymer resin, but a moderate amount of trial and error had taught him the exact shear point of the material and how to exploit that flaw in order to cause a catastrophic cellular deformation.
Or, simply put, he'd wiggled the chair back and forth with his mind until it ripped apart from the base. Then he'd moved on and done the same to his table, and then the bed.
So the moment Becquerel heard the lock on his cell door disengage, it was an easy matter to change the direction of his chair to take a quick and easy potshot at the sudden target.
The target winked out of existence with an alarmed, "Wha-?"
The chair passed harmlessly through the air to clatter against the far wall. Bec blinked. That was new. For a moment there, he could have sworn he'd seen -
A young girl poked her head around the door frame to scan the room for any more dangers. "That was rude," she told him. "It isn't nice to throw things at your rescuers."
The table and bed landed on the floor with successive clangs. Bec gaped. "Demia!?"
She hopped forward into the cell, waving cheerfully. Behind her, Artemis flickered back into view. "-at was that for?"
This time, Bec didn't bother throwing anything. He took two steps forward, paused to gently move Demia out of the way, and punched Artemis Fowl square in the face with as much force as he could muster.
"Ow," said Artemis, raising a hand to his nose in disbelief. "That - actually didn't really hurt at all. Now, I could still be in shock, but I'm getting the impression that you're just really bad at throwing a punch."
"Practice makes perfect. I'll break your nose next time," Bec growled.
Demia slipped in between the two of them before Bec could follow through on his threat. "Punching later," she promised. "For now, it's time to go before the evil trickster elf shows up!"
She skipped out into the hall before either of her companions could argue. The two remaining Changelings watched each other warily for a moment longer.
"First off, if I did deserve that, I formally apologize," said Artemis at last with a glare. "Second, from what I've heard, you deserved worse. Shall we go, or would you rather-?"
Bec pushed past him, savoring the freedom that came from stepping out of his cell. Then he blinked, looking from Demia to the boy at her side. "Oh I see. You faked your death and then found someone to replace me. Awesome."
"What? No, Bec, this is Gus. He's helping me rescue you!"
Augustus held out his hand with a self-satisfied grin. "Good to meet you, Becquerel."
In that moment, Bec decided this new kid was probably going to be even more arrogant and annoying than Fowl. "Helping?" he asked Demia. "How?"
Gus shrugged, unconcerned. "I've been gifted with the mesmer. It comes in handy for an infiltration. Especially when you need to convince someone already in the security system to escort you through various locked doors." His smug look towards Artemis told Bec all he needed to know.
Mind control? Okay, there was no question: Bec definitely already hated this kid more than Fowl. He'd been under the mesmer a number of times while in the custody of the LEP; the feeling of losing control of his own actions horrified Bec just as much now as it had the first time. At least I was given control of myself while sitting in my solitary confinement cell.
He turned to Demia again. "And you're okay with this?"
Her shrug was slightly forced, her smile slightly wavering. "Can we talk about this later? We need to go."
"Fine," Bec sighed. "But no more mind control. If we don't draw a line somewhere, we're no better than they are." And to make his point, he used his telekinesis to heft his cell's chair into the air and hurl it at the back of Artemis Fowl's head.
Upon impact, Artemis blinked out of existence again.
They waited a whole thirty seconds and, when he did not come back, decided the schedule was tight enough that they'd simply have to proceed without him.
-x-
They were almost out of the building when Bec happened to glance through a one-sided window into an occupied conference room. The table was surrounded by a number of professionals, both fairy and human, all following along with a powerpoint describing the potential psychological dangers humans might face when exposed to magic.
"Oh good," said Gus. "Freyne managed to herd everyone into one place. I was beginning to wonder if I was the only person able to control that rabble."
"And you were cheating, too," Bec muttered.
"That's a terrible picture of you," said Demia, nudging Bec with a giggle. Sure enough, the images projected onto a side wall of the room featured a number of human children, including Demia and Bec.
He scowled. "That's not a picture, that's a mugshot."
"Technically still a picture. Wow, Arty looks kinda scary!"
Bec wasn't paying attention. He had pressed his nose against the glass in an attempt to see everything on the wall. "They're not counting my doctorate! I still remember working hard on that," he protested. "It's totally real on paper."
Demia patted his arm consolingly. "It's alright, they still think I'm dead. Isn't that the picture all the news stations were showing when I was a missing person? You'd think they would have figured out I'm still alive ages ago. I mean, when was the last time anyone ever actually died from a troll attack?"
Gus pulled away from the window. "Well, this would be farewell. You should have no problems in making your way out of the building from here, although I would encourage you to continue to be careful and keep your heads down." He looked Bec over critically. "Especially you."
Bec crossed his arms. "What, you're leaving? Just like that?"
"Just like that," Gus affirmed. He paused to adjust the cuffs of his sleeves, took the handle of the door, and slid into the room with such ease and confidence that no one even looked up.
Ease, confidence, and probably his continued use of the mesmer, Bec thought scornfully. With barely a hesitation, he caught the door before it could swing closed.
"Oh no," gasped Demia, lunging. She was too late; Bec had already stepped into the conference room.
It took a minute for the psychologists to even notice that he had entered. Then, before they could do anything more than gape bug-eyed, Bec waved cheerfully and used his telekinesis to send papers flying everywhere.
Half a second later, a gnome rose from his chair and lifted both hands to shield his face. "Becquerel Jones. What a coincidence!"
Bec rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Tweedir."
Demia grabbed the back of Bec's shirt and tried in vain to yank him out into the hall again before he could do too much damage. The door slammed shut behind him. And then the alarms began to blare.
-x-
4 minutes and 44 seconds ago
Artemis lifted his hand from the alarm he'd just pulled, gritting his teeth as the piercing sounds burrowed into his already aching head. Moving carefully, he reentered the cell and took a seat in the center of the floor, raising his head to watch the camera. Demia had been using her light to trick the cameras but, now that she was gone from the room and the alarms had been activated, he'd be willing to bet someone would think to check what was happening in the cell.
At this point, all he could really do was hope they were friendly.
-x-
Now
By the time Holly arrived at Police Plaza, the psychologists had finally managed to pry the telekinetically-sealed door open. They still had not retrieved Tweedir from the ceiling, where the gnome bobbed like a half-inflated balloon.
"The world's best and brightest," cracked Holly, peering around the room. "Aha. Chix, you deal with this. I have a Changeling to speak with."
Chix gave her a sour look. "You're asking the sprite with the former wing injury to retrieve a gnome from the ceiling?"
"Yup."
"A gnome that no one likes?"
"That would be correct."
"Ah," he sighed. "Just checking. ...So, you're really not that into me, are you?"
"Nope."
"Ah."
Deflated, Chix moved towards the knot of psychologists. Holly, meanwhile, took the opportunity to collar her Changeling quarry.
"Excuse me," he protested, struggling against her grip in vain. Unconcerned, Holly pinned him to the wall and placed her neutrino under his chin. "You try the mesmer on me, I'll shoot. Got it?"
"Fine," he scowled.
Despite herself, Holly was slightly impressed. The last time she had threatened a Changeling with her neutrino, the culprit had peed himself. Gus just looked slightly put out by the whole ordeal. "Hey Chix," she called over her shoulder. "Change of plans. Forget Tweedir, I need you to deal with this problem first. Don't make eye contact with it."
-x-
As she rounded the doorway of the Ops Booth, Holly tapped her fingers against the hilt of her Neutrino in a complicated pattern. Sitting on the edge of Foaly's swivel chair with a shock blanket draped over his shoulders, Artemis absently and automatically drummed his fingers against the fabric in an exact mimicry of the rhythm.
The elf sagged in relief, though she was struck by how tired her friend looked. "So it is him, then. Good. I'd been half-worried Ray was going to turn up in disguise again - I don't think Maslov can keep track of that kid any better than the rest of us."
"You're familiar," Artemis said, not looking up.
"Maybe you should give me a moment with him?" Holly asked, gesturing to Foaly as she stepped into the room. "If he's starting to put himself back together, I'll see what I can do to help. Go get a coffee or something. See if you can intercept Trouble before he finds out about this the hard way."
Foaly swished his tail, but reluctantly backed from the room. "Fine, whatever. Your human, your problem," he declared, letting the door slide shut behind him.
Artemis lifted his head finally, staring her down. "Your problem?" he echoed, eyebrow lifting.
"Yes. We've got a long and colorful history, and I've been running myself ragged for the last three months trying to track you down."
He self-consciously adjusted the blanket. "As far as I can tell, I'm suffering from some form of magical whiplash. All attempts at jogging my memory up to this point have involved either lecturing me like a disappointed parent, or telling me fairy tales. I'm not sure which would be worse from you, but whatever you have planned, you may as well get it over with sooner rather than later."
"Was that a challenge, Fowl?" she asked, grinning in a kind of way that suddenly made Artemis feel very nervous indeed even though he was not entirely sure why.
Following the Arctic Incident, Foaly had embarked upon a quest of his own. It had been a long and drawn-out fight with his superiors (and anybody else who happened to be unfortunate enough to wander into earshot), but the final verdict was thus: given the centaur's control over so many of the LEP's critical functions, self-monitoring equipment, and the need to maintain control even in a crisis, Foaly's Ops Booth was the only spot within Police Place that was not under twenty-four-seven video surveillance.
Holly knew this, and so she knew it was safe to step forward, grab at Artemis's tie, and pull him into a kiss.
It was not the most elegant of kisses; all the same, their lips met and it felt right. For once in his short second life, he did not think before he acted - instead, Artemis simply closed his eyes, tilted his head, and kissed her back. His hands hovered in the air at his sides, as though he were uncertain where he was allowed to put them; she slipped the fingers of her free hand between his own, giving his palm a light squeeze.
Almost there, but not quite, Holly realized. She sent a magic pulse echoing into Artemis's system, a spark skipping between them, and felt it collide with the magic that now sat crookedly inside him. That's the problem, she realized as it dissolved into a rush. The tangles in his magic smoothed. It was not quite a healing, something with his magic still felt wrong, but when combined with the kiss it was enough. Mental floodgates opened, and she felt the moment that synapses kickstarted back to life and his memories came rushing back.
Artemis gasped for air as it hit him. Holly took the hint and drew back immediately, releasing his hand and mangled tie as his eyes flew open. His face was flushed as he straightened, and he seemed to be looking right through her. "Stay seated, Arty," she warned, breathless. "Let your head adjust. Last thing we need is you passing out."
"I suppose I would never live that down," he responded automatically, blinking hard and reaching to touch his lips. His gaze came back into focus slowly, and he met her eyes when he was ready.
Holly smirked at him somewhat self-consciously, her voice oddly tender. "Welcome back, Mud Boy. Status report?"
"Holly," he breathed in a rush of recognition, pressing his mouth together as he straightened his posture and tried to regain coherency. His hand moved to the shock blanket on his shoulder, lifting it with a dazed frown. "I - I think I'm myself. My head hurts, but I don't seem to be seriously harmed." He shook the blanket with a frown. "Who gave me this one, then?"
"Foaly, I think," the elf said. "Might have thought he was helping. We can add it to Dodo's nest later, she's growing a collection of them back at the office. Your eyes - one of them's hazel again. When did that happen?"
He raised an eyebrow, still watching her through a flustered fog as he untangled himself from the blanket and set it aside. It was something of a minor miracle that his voice came out smoothly. "Depends on how you're counting. Three year's worth of room for argument either way, and it was a lifetime ago. Hard to say."
She sagged in relief, leaning back against Foaly's desk and crossing her arms. "That was maybe the most annoying possible way to answer that question. Thank the gods, you're back."
"Well. I would assume my eye changed during the time jump that displaced me. In absence of memory, my cells must have simply reassembled themselves into a more familiar form upon materialization." He prodded at his stomach, still obviously discombobulated. "The extra toe's gone, and I think I've got a belly button again, too. You have no idea how disconcerting it is to go through life with no belly button."
"Beats the alternative," she quipped, and then thought about the situation for a moment. "That explanation -"
He raised an arm to gesture at the whole of his person, cutting off a protest. "I'm a time traveller who used to be dead. A literal quantum zombie, Holly. There isn't exactly a precedent for it." He paused, pensive. "This may be an odd question, but when you realized that you needed to trigger a full memory recall, did you -"
She grabbed at his arm, turning his wrist to examine the makeshift silver bracelet. "Hmm. Did I what?"
He chickened out, turning even redder and choking on his words. "...trigger a full memory recall?"
"Yes," Holly said, cupping his hand against her own. She felt oddly pleased with herself on all counts as his fingers laced effortlessly between hers, and nearly ecstatic to realize that - in a truly rare turn of events - she'd rendered him entirely speechless.
-x-
Two minutes and forty-three seconds later, upon having accepted that Trouble Kelp was nowhere to be found and returned with a mug of sub-par instant coffee to his Ops Booth, Foaly was having kittens. This was not actually a literal anatomical feat, but more a general state of mind. "What do you mean you knocked some sense into him?! Holly, percussive maintenance isn't something that actually works on living - gods, don't you know what he's been through! Fowl, how many fingers am I holding up?"
Artemis sighed, ignoring both the question and the hand shoved in his face. "I should apologize for earlier, but honestly, I was not in my right mind. You should have verified my mental condition before giving me access to such classified information. Shame on you, centaur."
"Yay," said Foaly with a flat huff, curling his hand back into a loose fist. "You're back. I rescind the hug."
Holly snickered. "Frond, you hugged him? And here I thought you'd said you didn't miss him. If we're not careful, he'll start to think we actually like having him around."
"You said what?" Artemis cut in. "I'm wounded, Foaly. Here I was legitimately happy to see you -"
"You didn't even remember me!"
"Semantics." He winked a hazel eye at Holly, who snorted.
Foaly, sensing a losing argument, changed the subject. "Enough of the touchy-feely reunion, already. Or did we all forget we've got two Changelings loose in Haven City?"
An awkward silence followed his choice of words. Artemis cleared his throat. "I didn't mind the reunion."
Foaly choked on his carrot. "Wait, did you two - oh, of course you did. I should be concerned that you two - in my booth, no less! - but. Well. I'm not even surprised. Percussive maintenance, my fake inflatable rubber ass." He turned to wink at his favourite party accessory, which still hung on the wall in memory of the late Commander Root. It did not wink back, thank the gods; he'd already experienced enough metaphorical anatomical feats for one afternoon.
Holly's lip twitched. "Be nice."
"Fine. Fine! Changelings. Lower Elements. Running amok. Solution?" the centaur said firmly, trying desperately to keep any semblance of control over the conversation.
Artemis closed his eyes, checking his internal clock. An alarmingly accurate internal clock. "At this point, they will have left the Lower Elements, Foaly. Out of your jurisdiction, sorry."
"What? Why didn't you stop them?"
There were so many potential sarcastic responses to choose from that Artemis actually found he had difficulty picking the most cutting. In the end, he settled for a particularly scathing look. It got the point across just fine.
Foaly swallowed. "Sorry. Yeah. You've had a rough day, from your perspective. I mean, wow. From your point of view, this morning you were meeting Vedette de Costa in Italy and the world was totally normal, huh? How's your head feeling - any better?"
"Like a squadron of gnomes are playing crunchball inside it," he replied sourly. "But give me some time to rest and some quiet to meditate, and I should recover."
Unfortunately, he was not about to get that quiet time at any point in the near future. Echoing down the hallway came a stream of language so filthy that it sounded as though someone had let a swear toad loose in the building. Thankfully, it was not an amphibious creature who rounded the corner into the Ops Booth, but rather the Commander of the LEP.
"Ah yes," said Artemis, leaning back in his chair, "This would be the swearing I have been surrounded by."
Holly snickered. "You make it sound as though your own language is always so dignified. You realize you swear whenever you're tinkering and you think no one else can hear you, right?"
"I do not," said Artemis, affronted.
"Yes, you do. Don't worry, it's almost endearing."
Foaly groaned. "Would you two stop flirting in my Ops Booth? It's making me feel icky again."
Trouble huffed. "Would someone please just tell me what has been going on? The alarms have been blaring, a prisoner has escaped, and our consultant has returned from the time vortex to flirt in Foaly's Ops Booth with my ex?"
"It's been one of those days," Artemis muttered.
Trouble raised an eyebrow. "And you are about to explain this day to me right now."
"Yeah, Mister Consultant," said Holly cheerfully, slugging Artemis in the arm. Clearly she'd taken the 'ex' comment personally. "How about you be the one to explain all this to the Commander."
It turned out that Mister Consultant did not actually have to tell Trouble about his day's events after all. By chance - or so he later claimed - the way his arm was jostled by Holly's friendly punch caused the bracelet of silver pieces to slide off his wrist and fall to the floor. Just as he opened his mouth, Artemis flickered out of sight.
"Surprise," said Holly unhappily, rummaging in her pack for more silver. "Mud Boy's got magic now. You might want to ask Foaly about the technical details."
The Commander stared, equally unhappily, at the spot where Artemis had been standing only a moment before. "He's… coming back this time, right?"
Holly shrugged. "I hope?"
Artemis poked his head into the office. "I'm gone, right? Oh, good." He stepped through the door. "I got back two minutes and seventeen seconds ago, managed to steer myself into the hallway instead of reappearing in the same room. That would have been awkward," he added, in a tone of mild understatement. "It turns out jumping backwards in time is much more logistically difficult to work around than skipping forward, but fortunately it appears to happen less frequently of its own volition. I would do more experimentation into the matter, but I don't appear to have full control over -"
"No experiments," said Holly quickly, reaching for his hand and pressing a silver coin against his palm. She glanced over at Trouble. "All due respect, I should probably just get him home. He's had a long day. Or three months. Same thing. With any luck, rest will stabilize him a bit more."
"You do that," agreed Trouble, inwardly praying that resting would not turn out to be synonymous with actually experimenting after all. Given the look on Holly's face, he decided it was worth the risk. "I'll have Foaly debrief me."
-x-
The quiet of the apartment was paradise after the chaos of a three-month-long day. Artemis paused on the threshold, closing his eyes in relief.
"How about we don't fall asleep in the doorway," said Holly gently, reaching a hand around his back to guide Artemis inside. She helped him to the couch, told him to sit still, and vanished into the kitchen. By the time she returned a minute later with a cup of water, Artemis had already passed out.
-x-
It had been a long and trying day attempting to herd human diplomats around the fairy city, and Freyne was happy to be home. That is, until he walked into the living room.
"Short, I don't want to alarm you but there's a fugitive on your couch." He leaned forward to inspect the suspect further before adding, "Don't move. Stay where you are. I'll call the police."
"I am the police," said Holly, ignoring his instructions to enter the living room with her neutrino drawn. "Oh. You mean him." She lowered her weapon. "For a moment there, I almost thought we had a problem."
Freyne visibly wilted like a sad head of lettuce. "You… knew he was here?"
"No, he just walked right in and made himself at home." A pause. "About a year ago. Would you believe he actually knows all the security codes? And added some?"
"I… see…" Freyne was still struggling to make sense of something. For nearly a minute he looked as though he were trying to count the legs on a centipede. And then it clicked with an almost audible clunk. "LEPfoul... isn't actually a department created to bring him to justice, is it?"
"What? No." If Freyne were counting the legs on the centipede, Holly had just discovered that the creature was made out of plastic and picked it up to dangle in front of his face. "It's a department made because we couldn't get rid of him. We asked him to consult on one case and he never went home. Now he lives here. Frond, have you been spelling LEPfoul wrong this entire time?"
"It's Freyne, not Frond," said the agent sulkily.
"I should hope not," mumbled Artemis from the couch, not opening his eyes. "Holly, how did Interpol get into your apartment? I thought I put up security to stop that."
Holly crossed her arms. "For some reason, no landlord in the city wanted anything to do with housing a human. Can't imagine whose fault that was."
Now his eyes flickered open, sizing the agent up. "I can rectify that and have him gone by morning." It was almost a threat.
Freyne spluttered. "Hey, I'm still standing right here! Fowl, why are you on the couch?"
"Yeah, that's a good question," echoed Holly, "Why are you on the couch? You know it smells like dwarf. Just go to bed."
"You were the one who told me to sit down here. I haven't slept in three months; you should have known I'd-"
Holly rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you're cranky, I get it. Bed. Now."
With a grumble, he rolled off the couch and out into the hall. Frustrated, Freyne flounced after him. "Is she saying what I think she's saying? Do you have an actual bed?"
"I earned it, too," said Artemis, sounding more proud of himself than he really had any right to. "Oh, hello, MoriarTEA."
The dishwasher happily extended an arm in greeting.
Freyne, misinterpreting the situation yet again, leaped forward to tackle Artemis out of the way. "Noooo, it's a menace!"
-x-
Holly had just returned to the kitchen and lifted her mug of tea back to her mouth when she heard the series of catastrophic thuds in her hallway.
"Frond," she muttered, setting the cup down firmly on the saucer. "I can't even leave those two humans alone for fifteen seconds."
-x-
Picking himself up off the floor, Freyne straightened his jacket and huffed. "The dishwasher is a hazard to life and limb. I can't get near the thing without it attacking me. Forgive me for trying to stop bloodshed in this apartment."
"Show MoriarTEA some respect. It's a technological marvel," Artemis muttered. He hadn't attempted to move yet. "Plus, it makes the perfect cup of Earl Grey."
"I wouldn't know," grumbled Freyne. "I can't get anywhere near it."
"Intriguing. I would hypothesise that that is because you don't live here," said Artemis, finally sitting up. He clicked his fingers; a second later, MoriarTEA rolled happily to his side. Artemis opened a panel in the robot's side to reveal a secondary screen that displayed scrolling code. "It seems to be guarding my bedroom. From you."
"You have a bedroom? Not just a bed, but a whole bedroom?" asked Freyne. "Wait. There's been a spare bedroom here this entire time and Holly put me on the couch that smells like dwarf?"
The elf poked her head around the corner. "Damn right. That's exactly what I did," she announced chipperly.
Artemis glanced up, trying very hard to not look pleased. "Ah, Holly. Have you noticed anything odd about MoriarTEA?"
She wrinkled her nose. "It's a talking dishwasher that shoots lasers and spills pellets of espresso grounds all over the floor if I forget to empty the bin. You need to be more specific, Arty."
Artemis scanned the code quickly. "I mean, have you noticed it developing any kinds of preferences or habits?"
"Hard to say," Holly said. The knot of alarm in her gut, which had just been starting to relax at the comforting prospect of a familiar round of witty banter, tensed up again. "What would that mean?"
"Perhaps nothing," said Artemis, having seen the look on her face and decided to play this one cautiously. "I require more information before I propose a hypothesis?"
"That's a bad sign. Right." She began counting on her fingers. "It serves me tea just fine? All the time, actually. Stupid thing is obsessed with my stress levels. Also keeps telling me I need more sleep. Seems to hate Freyne. Come to think of it, sometimes it drops coffee grounds on the floor just at the sight of him. And it did seem sad when it found out you were gone. Moped for weeks."
Artemis blinked. "Holly, that's perfect. I didn't tell it to do any of that. I'll have to run more tests, but I think this means that it's developed an intelligence beyond its base coding." He beamed. "I made sentient life!"
"Oh god," muttered Freyne, who had been following this conversation with wide eyes and a morbid fascination.
"D'arvit," muttered Holly, pulling out her phone to text Mulch. "I think I just lost a bet."
-x-
Author's Note:
So Arty's back just in time to learn that his sentient dishwasher spite-poops. Congrats, Mud Boy - you're a dad.
Sorry for the late episode, guys. If it's any consolation, at least we resisted the urge to make a cheesy joke about somebody's elf-kissing days not being over just yet?
(...d'arvit. Does that one count?)
Anyways. We were gonna post this sooner but then time travel happened and suddenly it was 3 months later. You know how it goes.
Thanks for sticking with us! The follows and reviews on this fic really do make our day, even if we remain horrible at properly responding to them. As always, you can catch us on our Tumblr or Twitters for more behind-the-scenes freudwithwings fun! - Winged and Freud