Artemis Fowl: The Opal Deception

Not bad, replied Root. Light as a feather, and you wouldnt even know you were wearing wings. Dont tell Foaly I said that, his head is swelled enough as it is.

 

No need to tell me, Commander, said Foalys voice in his earpiece. The speakers were a new, gel-vibration variety, and it sounded as though the centaur were in the helmet with him. Im with you every step of the way, from the safety of the shuttle, of course.

 

Of course, said Root dourly.

 

The pair advanced cautiously past a line of checkin booths. Foaly had assured them that there was no possible danger in this area of the terminal, but the centaur had been wrong before. And mistakes in the field cost lives.

 

The film company had decided that the actual dirt in the terminal was not authentic enough, so they had sprayed piles of grey foam in various corners. They had even added a dolls head to one mound. A poignant touch, or so they thought. The walls and escalator were blackened with fake laser burns.

 

Quite a shooting match, said Root, grinning.

 

Slightly exaggerated. I doubt if half a dozen shots were fired.

 

They proceeded through the embarkation area into the docking zone. The original shuttle used by the goblins in their smuggling runs had been resurrected, and it lay in the docking bay. The shuttle had been painted gloss black to make it seem more menacing, and a goblinesque decorated prow had been added to its nose.

 

How far? said Root, into his mike.

 

Im transferring the thermal signature to your helmets, replied Foaly.

 

Seconds later, a schematic appeared in their visors. The plan was slightly confusing as, in effect, they were looking down on themselves. There were three heat sources in the building. Two were close together, moving slowly towards the chute itself. Holly and the commander. The third figure was stationary in the access tunnel. Metres past the third figure, the thermo scan was whited out by the ambient heat from E37.

 

They reached the blast doors, two metres of solid steel that separated the access tunnel from the rest of the terminal. Shuttles and titanium eggs would glide in on a magnetized rail, to be dropped into the chute itself. The doors were sealed.

 

Can you open these remotely, Foaly?

 

But of course, Commander. I have managed, quite ingeniously, to marry my operating system with the terminals old computers. That wasnt as easy as it sounds

 

Ill take your word for it, said the commander, cutting Foaly off. Just push the button, before I come out there and push it with your face.

 

Some things never change, muttered Foaly, pushing the button.

 

The access tunnel smelled like a blast furnace. Ancient swirls of melted ore hung from the roof and the ground underfoot was cracked and treacherous. Each footfall punctured a crust of soot, leaving a trail of deep footprints. There was another set of footprints leading to the shadowy figure huddled on the ground, a short distance from the chute itself.

 

There, said Root.

 

Got him, said Holly, resting the bullseye of her laser sight on the figures trunk.

 

Keep him covered, ordered the commander. Im going down.

 

Root advanced along the tunnel, keeping well out of Hollys line of fire. If Scalene did make a move, Holly would need a clear shot. But the general, if it were him, squatted immobile, his spine curled along the tunnel wall. His frame was covered by a full-length hooded cape.

 

The commander turned on his helmet PA so he could be heard above the howl of core wind.

 

You there. Stand facing the wall. Place your hands on your head.

 

The figure did not move. Holly had not expected it to. Root stepped closer, always cautious, knees bent, ready to dive to one side. He poked the figures shoulder with his Neutrino 3000.

 

On your feet, Scalene.

 

The poke was sufficient to knock the figure sideways. The goblin keeled over, landing face up on the tunnel floor. Soot flakes fluttered around him like disturbed bats. The hood flopped to one side, revealing the figures face, most importantly the eyes.

 

Its him, said Root. Hes been mesmerized.

 

The generals slitted eyes were bloodshot and vacant. This was a serious development, as it confirmed that somebody else had planned the escape, and Holly and Root had walked into a trap.

 

I recommend we leave, said Holly. Immediately.

 

No, said Root, leaning over the goblin. Now that were here, we might as well take Scalene back with us.

 

He placed his free hand on the goblins collar, preparing to haul him to his feet. Later, Holly would record in her report that it was at this precise moment that things began to go terribly wrong. What had been a routine albeit strange assignment suddenly became an altogether more sinister affair.

 

Do not touch me, elf, said a voice. A hissing, goblin voice. Scalenes voice. But how could that be? The generals lips had not moved.

 

Root reared back, then steadied himself. Whats going on here?

 

Hollys soldiers sense was buzzing at the base of her neck. Whatever it is, we wont like it. We should go, Commander, right now.

 

Roots features were thoughtful. That voice came from his chest.

 

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