Butler studied the plans.
‘It’s possible. I know someone in Limerick. The best man in the country for this kind of specialized work.’
‘Excellent,’ said Artemis. ‘After that, you need to put everything we have on the People on a disk. All documents, videos, schematics. Everything. And don’t forget my diary. The whole story is there.’
‘And where do we hide this disk?’ asked Butler.
Artemis untied the fairy pendant from around his neck.
‘I’d say this was about the same size as the disk. Wouldn’t you?’
Butler tucked the gold medallion into his jacket pocket.
‘It soon will be,’ he said.
Butler prepared them a meal. Nothing fancy. Vegetarian spring rolls, followed by mushroom risotto with crème caramel to finish. Mulch opted for a bucket of diced worms and beetles, sautéed in a rainwater and moss vinaigrette.
‘Has everybody studied their files?’ Artemis asked, when the group had adjourned to the library.
‘Yes,’ said Holly. ‘But I seem to be missing a few key pieces.’
‘Nobody has the entire plan. Just the parts concerning them. I think it’s safer that way. Do we have the equipment I specified?’
Holly dumped the contents of her pack on the rug.
‘A complete LEP surveillance kit, including camouflage foil, mikes, video clips and a first aid box.’
‘Plus we still have two intact LEP helmets and three laser handguns left over from the siege,’ added Butler. ‘And, of course, one of the prototype Cubes from the lab.’
Artemis passed the cordless phone to Mulch.
‘Very well then. We may as well get started.’
THE SPIRO NEEDLE
Jon Spiro sat in his opulent office, staring glumly at the C Cube on his desk. People thought it was easy being him. How little they knew. The more money you had, the more pressure you were under. He had eight hundred employees in this building alone, all relying on him for a pay cheque. They wanted yearly salary reviews, medical plans, baby-care centres, regular coffee breaks, double pay for overtime and even stock options, for heaven’s sake. Sometimes Spiro missed the times when a troublesome worker was thrown out of a high window and that was the end of him. These days, if you threw someone out of a window, they’d phone their lawyer on the way down.
But this Cube could be the answer to his prayers. A once-in-a-lifetime deal, the brass ring. If he could get this weird little gizmo working, the sky was the limit. Literally. The world’s satellites would be his to command. He would have complete control over spy satellites, military lasers, communications networks and, most important of all, television stations. He could feasibly rule the world.
His secretary buzzed from reception.
‘Mister Blunt to see you, sir.’
Spiro jabbed the intercom button.
‘OK, Marlene, send him in. And tell him he better look sorry.’
Blunt did indeed look sorry when he pushed through the double doors. The doors themselves were imposing enough. Spiro had them stolen from the ballroom of the sunken Titanic. They were a perfect example of power gone mad.
Arno Blunt was not quite so cocky as he had been in London. Then again, it is difficult to look arrogant when your forehead is a mass of bruises and your mouth is full of gums and nothing else.
Spiro winced at the sight of his sunken cheeks.
‘How many teeth did you lose?’
Blunt touched his jaw gingerly.
‘All ob ’em. Dendish shaid de roods are shaddered.’
‘It serves you right,’ said Spiro matter-of-factly. ‘What do I gotta do, Arno? I hand you Artemis Fowl on a platter and you mess it up. Tell me what happened. And I don’t want to hear about any earthquakes. I want the truth.’
Blunt wiped a blob of drool from the corner of his mouth.
‘I doh undershtan ih. Shomeshin explohduh. I dunno wha’. Shome kinna shoun grenay. Buh I dell you shomeshin. Budlah ish dead. I shod him in de heart. No way he’sh geddin uh affer da.’
‘Oh, shut up!’ snapped Spiro. ‘You’re giving me a headache. The sooner you get those new teeth, the better.’
‘My gumsh wi be healed suffishendly by hish afernoo.’
‘I thought I told you to shut up!’
‘Shorry, bosh.’
‘You’ve put me in a very difficult situation, Arno. Because of your incompetence I had to hire a team from the Antonellis. Carla is a smart girl; she could decide that they deserve a percentage. It would cost me billions.’
Arno tried his best to look remorseful.
‘And don’t bother with the puppy dog look, Blunt. It doesn’t cut any ice with me. If this deal goes south, you’ll be losing a lot more than a couple of teeth.’
Arno decided to change the subject.
‘Sho, di’ your shiendishds geh de Gube worging?’
‘No,’ said Spiro, twisting his gold identity bracelet. ‘Fowl has it sealed up tight. An Eternity Code, or some such thing. That idiot, Pearson, couldn’t get a peep out of it.’