The centaur shrugged. ‘What choice do we have? Orders are orders.’
Holly placed the mask over Artemis’s eyes and pushed the button. Seconds later, the teenager slumped in his chair. Immediately, lines of Gnommish text began to flash across the screen behind him. In the days of Frond, Gnommish had been written in spirals. But reading in spirals gave most fairies a migraine.
‘Commence deleting,’ ordered Foaly. ‘But keep a copy. Some time when I have a few weeks off I’m going to find out what makes this guy tick.’
Holly watched Artemis’s life being written in green symbols on the screen.
‘This doesn’t feel right,’ she commented. ‘If he found us once, he could find us again. Especially if he becomes the monster he used to be.’
Foaly tapped commands into an ergonomic keyboard. ‘Maybe. But next time we’ll be ready.’
Holly sighed. ‘It’s a pity, because now we were almost friends.’
The centaur snorted. ‘Sure. Like you can be friends with a viper.’
Holly suddenly shut her helmet visor, hiding her eyes.
‘You’re right, of course. We could never have been friends. It was circumstance that pushed us together, nothing more.’
Foaly patted her shoulder. ‘That’s the girl. Keep your ears up. Where are you going?’
‘Tara,’ replied Holly. ‘I’m going to fly. I need the fresh air.’
‘You don’t have clearance for a flight,’ objected Foaly. ‘Root will have your badge.’
‘For what?’ said Holly, firing up her wings. ‘I’m not supposed to be here, remember?’
And she was gone, flying in a lazy loop through the entrance hall. She cleared the main door with centimetres to spare, climbing quickly into the night sky. For a second, her slim frame was backlit by the full moon, and then she disappeared, vibrating out of the visible spectrum.
Foaly watched her go. Emotional creatures, elves. In some respects they made the worst Recon operatives. All decisions were taken by the heart. But Root would never fire Holly, because policing was what she was born to do. And anyway, who else would save the People if Artemis Fowl ever found them again?
Mulch sat in the shuttle’s holding booth feeling extremely sorry for himself. He tried to sit on the bench without actually touching it with his tender behind. Not an easy task.
Things did not look good, it had to be said. Even after all he’d done for the LEP they were going to lock him up for at least a decade. Just for stealing a few measly bars of gold. And it didn’t seem likely that he’d get an opportunity to escape. He was surrounded by steel and laser bars, and would remain so until the shuttle docked in Haven. After that it was a quick jaunt to Police Plaza, a summary hearing and off to a secure facility until his beard turned grey. Which it would, if he was forced to spend more than five years out of the tunnels.
But there was hope. A tiny glimmer. Mulch forced himself to wait until all the technical staff had cleared their equipment from the shuttle. Then he casually opened his right hand, rubbing his temples with thumb and forefinger. What he was actually doing was reading the tiny note concealed in his palm – the one slipped to him by Artemis Fowl when they shook hands.
I have not finished with you yet, Mulch Diggums –
the note read.
On your return, tell your lawyer to check the date on the original search warrant for your cave. When you are released keep your nose clean for a couple of years. The bring the medallion to me. Together we will be unstoppable.
Your friend and benefactor,
Artemis Fowl the Second
Mulch crumpled the note. He made a cylinder of his fingers and sucked the paper into his mouth. His dwarf molars quickly destroyed the evidence.
Mulch breathed deeply through his nose. It wasn’t time to pop the Skaylian Rock Worm Wine cork just yet. A review of his case could take months, possibly years. But there was hope.
The dwarf wrapped his fingers round Artemis’s medallion. Together they would be unstoppable.
EPILOGUE
ARTEMIS FOWL’S JOURNAL. DISK 1. ENCRYPTED.
I have decided to keep a diary. In fact, I am surprised that the idea has never occurred to me before. An intellect such as mine should be documented so that future generations of Fowls can take advantage of my brilliant ideas.
Of course, I must be careful with such a document. As valuable as it would be to my descendants, it would be more valuable to the law enforcement agents who are forever trying to gather evidence against me.