Eoin Colfer - Artemis Fowl - the time paradox

Young Artemis stood stock still, ignoring the flying dye, his gaze fixed on Damon Kronski and the lemur in his fist.

Watch the animal. They want the animal.

Kronski squealed with each explosion, balancing on a single leg like a scared ballet dancer.

Priceless, thought Artemis, and shot a few seconds of video on his phone. Something else was about to happen; he felt sure of it.

And he was right. Artemis had a vague impression that the earth exploded in front of Kronski’s feet. Mud mushroomed upwards, something moved in the curtain of earth and then the lemur was gone.

Doctor Kronski was left holding a blob of slime, which glowed slightly in the evening shadows.

The last drops of dye fell, and slowly the chaos retreated. The leather workers shook their heads in wonder, then began to curse their luck. A day’s profit gone.

Kronski squealed for several seconds after the dust had cleared, holding the note like an opera singer.

Artemis grinned nastily. ‘It isn’t over until the fat lady sings, so I suppose it’s over.’

The doctor was snapped out of it by Artemis’s tones. He composed himself, standing on two feet and breathing deeply as the red spots retreated from his cheeks. It was not until he tried to wipe the gunk from his hand that he realized the lemur was no longer in his grasp.

As he stared in disbelief at his fingers, Kronski felt the stuff coating his fingers harden into a glowing gauntlet.

‘What have you done, Artemis?’

Ah, thought Artemis. Suddenly you can pronounce my name.

‘I have done nothing, Damon. I delivered the lemur; you lost him. The problems here are all yours.’

Kronski was livid. He tore off his glasses to reveal red-rimmed eyes. ‘You have tricked me, Fowl. Somehow, you are a participant in this. I cannot host an Extinctionist conference without a strong opening. The execution of that lemur was my big hello, everyone.’

Artemis’s phone beeped and he glanced at the screen. A brief text from Butler.

Mission accomplished.

He pocketed the mobile phone and smiled broadly at Kronski.

‘A strong opening. I may be able to help you with that. For a price, naturally.’

Artemis the elder sat in the cham pod, watching events unfurling below. Everything went exactly to plan, with the exception of the dye vats, which actually exceeded Artemis’s expectations.

Butler’s view is completely blocked, he thought. And then he froze suddenly. Of course! I wouldn’t have placed Butler in that window at all. I would have put a decoy there, as it is one of the five logical places for a sniper to set up. In fact, I would have put a decoy in all five spots and then have Butler hide himself somewhere on the souqfloor, ready to step in if those pesky lemur-nappers showed up again, which they very well could, as they seem to know my every move. I, Artemis Fowl, have been bamboozled by myself.

Suddenly, a horrifying thought struck him.

‘Holly!’ he shouted into the microphone pad adhered to his thumb. ‘Abort! Abort!’

‘What …’ came the crackly response. ‘The noise… I think… damaged.’

Then a few seconds of white noise, sharp snaps and silence.

It was too late. Artemis could only press his face against the screen and watch helplessly as one of the leather workers shrugged off his shoulder blanket and straightened, revealing himself to be far taller than he had previously appeared. It was, of course, Butler, with a hand-held infra-red scanner extended before him.

Butler. Don’t do it, old friend. I know you were never comfortable with my schemes.

In three quick strides, the bodyguard moved to Holly’s vat and netted the elf in his blanket. She struggled and fought, but never had a chance against Butler’s formidable strength. In ten seconds, Holly was hog-tied and hoisted over the bodyguard’s shoulder. In five more seconds Butler was out of the gate and lost in the gathering crowds of the medina.

It all happened so quickly that Artemis’s jaw did not have time to drop. One moment he was in control, enjoying the smugness that comes with being the smartest person in the metaphorical room. The next, he was crashing back to earth, having sacrificed his queen for a rook, realizing he was up against somebody just as smart as he was, only twice as ruthless.

He felt the pallor of desperation creep across his forehead, leaving pins and needles in its wake.

They have Holly. The Extinctionists will put her on trial on charges of breathing human air.

A thought occurred to him. Every defendant is entitled to a good lawyer.

ARTEMISthe younger agreed to accompany Doctor Kronski to his gated compound near the medina. Kronski’s Land Rover was considerably more luxurious than Artemis’s rented model, complete with powerful air-conditioning, water cooler and white-tiger upholstery.

Artemis ran a finger through the fur and was not surprised to find that it was real.

‘Nice seats,’ he commented drily.

Kronski did not answer. He hadn’t spoken much since losing the lemur, except to mutter to himself, cursing the unfairness of it all. It didn’t seem to bother him that his suit was covered in dye, which was transferring itself to his expensive upholstery.

Though it took barely five minutes to reach the compound, Artemis was glad of the thinking space. By the time the Land Rover was cleared through the reinforced gates, he had any wrinkles in his strategy straightened out and he’d used the spare two minutes to plot one of the romance novels he occasionally wrote under the pseudonym Violet Tsirblou.

A guard with bulk to match Butler’s waved them through underneath a walkway arch in the four-metre-high wall. Artemis kept his eyes open on the way in, noting the armed guards patrolling the ten-acre compound, and the position of the generator hut and the staff quarters.

Information is power.

The residential chalets were built in the style of Californian beachouses, flat roofs and plenty of glass, clustered around a man-made beach, complete with wave machine and lifeguard. There was a large conference centre in the middle of the compound, with a scaffold-clad spire jutting from its roof. Two men were perched on the scaffolding, putting the finishing touches to a brass icon on the spire’s tip. And even though most of the icon was wrapped in canvas, Artemis could see enough to know what it was. A human arm with the world in its fist. The symbol of the Extinctionists.

Kronski’s driver parked in front of the compound’s grandest chalet and the doctor led the way inside wordlessly. He flapped a hand towards a hide-covered sofa, and disappeared into his bedroom.

Artemis was hoping for a shower and a change of clothes, but apparently Kronski was too upset for courtesy, so Artemis was forced to tug at the collar of his itchy shirt and wait for his host’s return.

Kronki’s reception lounge was a macabre space. One wall was covered with certificates of extinction, complete with photographs of the unfortunate animals and the dates on which the Extinctionists managed to murder the last one of the particular species.

Artemis browsed the photo wall. Here was a Japanese sea lion, and a Yangtze river dolphin. A Guam flying fox and a Bali tiger.

All gone forever.

The only way to see these creatures was to somehow build up enough momentum to travel faster than the speed of light and go back in time.