Eoin Colfer - Artemis Fowl - the time paradox

Malachy Pasteur made a noise somewhere between a cough and a chuckle. ‘Really, Doctor Kronski, I have read several variations on this speech. Every year, it seems, you trot out the same simplistic arguments. Can we please focus on the creature before us tonight?’

A tittering ripple spread among the banquet guests, and Kronski had to struggle to contain his temper. It seemed he had a battle on his hands. Very well, then.

‘Most amusing, boy. I was going to take it easy on you, but now the gloves are off.’

‘We are delighted to hear it.’

We? We? Pasteur was swinging the Extinctionists his way without them even knowing it.

Kronski summoned every last drop of charisma from inside himself, flashing back to his youth, to those long summer days spent watching his evangelist daddy whip up the crowds inside a canvas tent.

He raised his arms high, each finger bent back until the tendons strained.

‘This is not what we are about, people,’ he thundered. ‘We did not travel all this way for some petty verbal sparring. This is what the Extinctionists are about.’ Kronski pointed a rigid finger at Holly. ‘Ridding our planet of creatures like this.’

Kronski shot a sideways glance at Pasteur, who was leaning, chin on hands, a bemused look on his face. Standard opposition behaviour.

‘We have a new species here, friends. A dangerous species. It can make itself invisible, it can hypnotize through speech. It was armed. ’

And, to much oohing from the crowd, Kronski drew forth Holly’s Neutrino handgun from his pocket.

‘Do any of us wish to face a future where this could be pointed in our faces? Do we? The answer, I think, is clearly no. Now, I’m not going to pretend that this is the last one of its kind. I feel certain that there are thousands of these fairies, or aliens, or whatever, all around us. But does that mean we should grovel and release this little creature? I say no. I say we send a message. Execute one and the rest will know we mean business. The governments of the world despise us now, but tomorrow they will come banging down our door for guidance.’ Time for the big finish. ‘We are Extinctionists, and our time is now!’

It was a good speech and drew wave after wave of applause, which Pasteur rode out with the same bemused expression.

Kronski accepted the applause with a boxer’s rolling of the shoulders, then nodded towards the opposite podium.

‘The floor is yours, boy.’

Pasteur straightened and cleared his throat …

… Artemis straightened and cleared his throat. The fake beard glued to his chin itched like crazy, but he resisted the impulse to scratch it. In a fair arena, he would destroy Kronski’s arguments in about five seconds, but this was not a fair arena, or even a sane one. These people were bloodthirsty, jaded billionaires, using their money to buy illicit excitement. Murder was just another service that could be purchased. He needed to handle this crowd carefully. Push the right buttons. First of all he had to establish himself as one of them.

‘When I was young, and the family wintered in South Africa, my grandfather would tell me stories of a time when people had the right attitude towards animals. We kill ’em when it suits us, he said to me. When it serves our purposes. This is what the Extinctionists used to be about. A species was not protected unless we humans benefited from its survival. We kill when it benefits us. If an animal is using the planet’s resources and not directly contributing to our health, safety and comfort, we wipe it out. Simple as that. This was an ideal worth fighting for. Worth killing for. But this …’ Artemis pointed at the pit below him and Holly in her cage. ‘This is a circus. This is an insult to the memory of our ancestors, who gave their time and gold to the Extinctionists’ cause.’

Artemis worked hard on his eye contact, connecting with as many people as possible in the audience. Lingering for a moment with everyone.

‘We have an opportunity to learn from this creature. We owe it to our predecessors to find out if she can contribute to our coffers. If this is in reality a fairy, then who knows what magic it possesses. Magic that could be yours. If we kill this fairy, we will never know what unimaginable wealth dies with it.’

Artemis bowed. He had made his point. It would not be enough to sway the bloodthirsty Extinctionists, he knew, but it might be enough to make Kronski feel a little less cocky.

The doctor was waving his hands before the echo of Artemis’s voice faded.

‘How many times must we listen to this argument?’ he wondered. ‘Master Pasteur accuses me of repeating myself while he repeats the tired argument of every defence counsel we have ever listened to.’ Kronski tapped his lips in horror. ‘Ooh, let us not kill the creature for it is potentially the source of all our power and wealth. I remember spending a fortune on a sea slug that was supposed to cure arthritis. All we got was very expensive goo. This is all supposition.’

‘But this creature is magical,’ objected Artemis, banging the podium with a fist. ‘We have all heard how she can turn invisible. Even now her mouth is taped so she cannot hypnotize us. Imagine the power we could wield if we were to unlock the secrets of these gifts. If nothing else, they would better prepare us to deal with the rest of her kind.’

Kronski’s main problem was that he agreed with much of his opposition’s argument. It made perfect sense to save the creature and tease her secrets from her, but he could not afford to lose this argument. If he did, he might as well hand over the leadership.

‘We have tried to interrogate her. Our best men tried and she told us nothing.’

‘It is difficult to talk with a taped mouth,’ Artemis noted drily.

Kronski drew himself to his full height, lowering the timbre of his voice for effect. ‘The human race faces its most deadly enemy and you want to cosy up to it. That is not how we Extinctionists do things. If there is a threat, we wipe it out. That is how it has always been.’

This brought a roar of approval from the crowd, bloodlust trumping logic every time. Several members were on their feet, hollering. They had had enough of argument and wanted some action.

Kronski’s face was flushed with victory.

He thinks it’s over, thought Artemis. Poor man, and then, This beard really itches.

He waited calmly until the furore had trailed away, then came out from behind the podium.

‘I was hoping to spare you this, Doctor,’ he said. ‘Because I respect you so much.’

Kronski flapped his lips. ‘Spare me what, Master Pasteur?’

‘You know what. I think you have pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes long enough.’

Kronski was not in the least worried. The boy was beaten and everything else was was just irritating chatter. Still, why not let Pasteur dig a hole for himself?

‘And what wool would that be?’

‘Are you certain you want me to continue?’

Kronski’s teeth glittered when he smiled. ‘Oh, absolutely certain.’

‘As you wish,’ said Artemis, approaching the dock. ‘This creature was not our original defendant. Up until yesterday we had a lemur. Not quite a monkey, Mister Kirkenhazard, but close enough. I say we had a lemur, but in truth we almost had a lemur. It went missing at the pick-up. Then, and this is important, then we were sold this creature by the same boy who almost sold us the lemur, undoubtedly paid for from Extinctionists’ funds. Does anyone else think this is a little off? I do. This boy keeps his lemur and sells us a supposed fairy.’

Kronski was not so cocky now. This Pasteur fellow had a lot of information.