‘And what is its name?’
Juliet often used the term ‘duh’. Artemis would not use such colloquialisms himself, but it would be apt at this particular moment.
‘Its name is Cube.’
‘OK, Cube. Are you going to give me attitude?’
‘I will give you whatever is in my processor’s capacity to give.’
Spiro rubbed his palms with childish glee, jewellery flashing like ripples in a sunset sea.
‘OK, let’s try this baby out. Cube, can you tell me – are there any satellites monitoring the building?’
Foaly was silent for a moment. Artemis could imagine him calling up his Sat-track information on a screen.
‘Just one at the moment, though, judging from the ion trails, this building has been hit with more rays than the Millennium Falcon.’
Spiro shot Artemis a glance.
‘His personality chip is faulty,’ explained the boy. ‘That’s why I discontinued him, it. We can fix that at any time.’
Spiro nodded. He didn’t want his very own technological genie growing the personality of a gorilla.
‘What about that group, the LEP, Cube?’ he asked. ‘They were monitoring me in London. Are they watching?’
‘The LEP? That’s a Lebanese satellite TV network,’ said Foaly, following Artemis’s instructions. ‘Game shows mostly. Their footprint doesn’t reach this far.’
‘OK, forget about them, Cube. I need to know that satellite’s serial number.’
Foaly consulted a screen.
‘Ah… Let me see. US, registered to the federal government. Number ST1147P.’
Spiro clenched both fists. ‘Yes! Correct. I happen to already have that information myself. Cube, you have passed my test.’
The billionaire danced around the laboratory, reduced to childish displays by his greed.
‘I’m telling you, Arty, this has taken years off me! I feel like putting on a tuxedo and going to the prom.’
‘Indeed.’
‘I don’t know where to start. Should I make my own money? Or should I rip off somebody else’s?’
Artemis forced a smile. ‘The world is your oyster.’
Spiro patted the Cube gently. ‘Exactly. That’s exactly what it is. And I’m going to take every pearl it has to offer.’
Pex and Chips arrived at the vault door, guns drawn.
‘Mister Spiro!’ stammered Pex. ‘Is this some kind of drill?’
Spiro laughed. ‘Oh, look. Here comes the cavalry. An eternity too late. No, this is not a drill. And I would dearly love to know how little Artemis here got past you two!’
The hired muscle stared at Artemis as though he had just appeared from nowhere. Which, for their mesmerized brains, he had.
‘We don’t know, Mister Spiro. We never saw him. Do you want us to take him outside for a little accident?’
Spiro laughed, a short nasty bark. ‘I gotta new word for you two dumb-bells. Expendable. You are and he isn’t, just yet. Get it? So just stand there and look dangerous, otherwise I may replace you with two shaved gorillas.’
Spiro gazed into the Cube’s screen, as though there were nobody else in the room. ‘I reckon I’ve got twenty years left in me. After that the world can go to hell as far as I’m concerned. I don’t have any family, no heirs. There’s no need to build for the future. I’m going to suck this planet dry, and with this Cube I can do whatever I want to whoever I want.’
‘I know the first thing I’d do,’ said Pex. His eyes seemed surprised that the words were coming out of his mouth.
Spiro froze. He wasn’t used to being interrupted in mid-rant.
‘What would you do, dumb-bell?’ he said. ‘Buy yourself a booth at Merv’s Rib ’n’ Roast?’
‘No,’ said Pex. ‘I’d stick it to those Phonetix guys. They’ve been rubbing Spiro Industries’ nose in it for years.’
It was an electric moment. Not only because Pex had actually had an idea, but because it was actually a good one.
The notion lit a thoughtful spark in Spiro’s eyes.
‘Phonetix. My biggest competitors. I hate those guys. Nothing would give me greater satisfaction than to destroy that bunch of second-rate phone freaks. But how?’
Now it was Chips’ turn. ‘I hear they’re working on a new top-secret communicator. Super-life battery, or something.’
Spiro did a double take. First Pex, now Chips? Next thing you knew they’d be learning to read. Nevertheless…
‘Cube,’ said Spiro, ‘I want you to access the Phonetix database. Copy the schematics for all their projects in development.’
‘No can do, boss man. Phonetix is operating on a closed system. No Internet connection whatsoever in its R & D department. I have to be on-site.’
Spiro’s euphoria disappeared. He rounded on Artemis.