As soon as Artemis looked inside the pod it became immediately apparent what that problem was. The manservant’s newly grown hair was heavily streaked with grey: Butler had gone into the cryo chamber forty years of age; the man before Artemis now was at least fifty. Possibly older. In the space of just over three hours Butler had grown old.
Holly appeared at Artemis ’s shoulder.
‘He’s alive at least,’ said the fairy.
Artemis nodded. ‘When will he wake up?’
‘A couple of days. Maybe.’
‘How did this happen?’ asked the boy, brushing a lock of hair from Butler’s brow.
Holly shrugged. ‘I’m not exactly sure. That’s Foaly’s area.’
Artemis took the spare com set from his pocket, hooking the speaker wire over his ear.
‘Any theories, Foaly?’
‘I can’t be sure,’ the centaur replied. ‘But I’m guessing that Holly’s magic wasn’t enough. Some of Butler’s own life force was needed for the healing. About fifteen years’ worth by the looks of it.’
‘Can anything be done?’
‘Afraid not. A healing can’t be undone. If it’s any consolation, he’ll probably live longer than he would have done naturally. But there’s no reclaiming his youth and, what’s more, we can’t be sure about the state of his mind. The healing could have wiped his brain cleaner than a magnetized disk.’
Artemis sighed deeply. ‘What have I done to you, old friend?’
‘No time for that,’ said Holly briskly. ‘You should both get out of here. I’m sure all the commotion will have attracted attention. Do you have transport?’
‘No. We flew over on a public flight. Then took a taxi from Heathrow.’
Holly shrugged. ‘I’d like to help, Artemis, but I’ve already given up enough time here. I’m on a mission. An extremely important mission and I have to get back to it.’
Artemis stepped away from the cryo unit.
‘Holly, about your mission…’
Captain Short turned slowly.
‘Artemis…’
‘You were probed, weren’t you? Something got past Foaly’s defences?’
Holly pulled a large sheet of camouflage foil from her surveillance backpack.
‘We need to go somewhere to talk. Somewhere private.’
The following forty-five minutes were something of a blur for Artemis. Holly wrapped both humans in the camouflage foil and clipped them on to her Moonbelt. The belt effectively reduced their weight to one fifth of the Earth’s norm.
Even then it was a struggle for her mechanical wings to hoist the three of them into the night sky. Holly had to open the throttle wide just to bring them five hundred feet above sea level.
‘I’m going to shield now,’ she said into her mike. ‘Try not to thrash about too much. I don’t want to have to cut one of you loose.’
Then she was gone, and in her place hovered a slightly shimmering, Holly-shaped patch of stars. The vibrations rattled through the belt links, shaking Artemis’s teeth in his head. He felt like a bug in a cocoon, trussed up in foil, with only his face exposed to the night air. Initially, the experience was almost enjoyable, riding high above the city, watching the cars flicker along the motorways. Then Holly picked up a westerly wind and threw them into the air currents over the sea.
Suddenly Artemis’s universe was a maelstrom of cutting winds, buffeting passengers and startled birds. Beside him, Butler hung limply in his makeshift foil truss. The foil absorbed the local colours, reflecting the dominant hues. It was by no means a perfect recreation of the surroundings, but certainly good enough for a night flight over the sea to Ireland.
‘Is this foil invisible to radar?’ said Artemis into the headset. ‘I don’t want to be mistaken for a UFO by some eager Harrier jump-jet pilot.’
Holly considered it. ‘You’re right. Maybe I should take us down a bit, just in case.’
Two seconds later, Artemis deeply regretted breaking radio silence: Holly tilted her wing rig into a steep dive, sending the three of them hurtling towards the midnight waves below. She pulled up at the last moment, when Artemis could have sworn the skin was about to peel away from his face.
‘Low enough for you?’ asked Holly, with the barest hint of humour in her voice.
They skimmed the wave tops, spray sparking against the camouflage foil. The ocean was rough that night, and Holly followed the water patterns, dipping and climbing to match the swell’s curve. A school of humpbacked whales sensed their presence and broke through the storm foam, leaping fully thirty metres across a trough before disappearing beneath the black water. There were no dolphins. The small mammals were taking shelter from the elements in the inlets and coves along the Irish coast.
Holly skirted the hull of a passenger ferry, flying close enough to feel the engine’s pulse. On deck, scores of passengers vomited over the railings, narrowly missing the invisible travellers below.
‘Charming,’ muttered Artemis.