TARA, IRELAND, DAWN
The fairy shuttle port in Tara was the biggest in Europe. More than eight thousand tourists a year passed through its X-ray arches. Eight hundred and fifty cubic metres of terminal concealed beneath an overgrown hillock in the middle of the McGraney farm. It was a marvel of subterranean architecture.
Mulch Diggums, fugitive kleptomaniac dwarf, was pretty marvellous himself in the subterranean area. Butler drove the Fowl Bentley north from the manor, and on Mulchs instructions slowed the luxury car down, five hundred metres from the shuttle ports camouflaged entrance. This allowed Mulch to dive through the rear door straight into the earth. He quickly disappeared, submerged below a layer of rich Irish soil. The best in the world.
Mulch knew the shuttle port layout well. He had once broken his cousin Nord out of police custody here, when the LEP had arrested him on industrial pollution charges. A vein of clay ran right up to the shuttle port wall and, if you knew where to look, there was a sheet of metal casing that had been worn thin by years of Irish damp. But on this particular occasion, Mulch was not interested in evading the LEP; quite the opposite.
He surfaced inside the holographic bush that hid the shuttle ports service entrance. He climbed out of his tunnel, shook the clay from his behind, got all the tunnel wind out of his system a bit more noisily than was absolutely necessary, and waited.
Five seconds later, the entrance hatch slid across and four grabbing hands reached out, yanking Mulch into the shuttle ports interior. Mulch did not resist, allowing himself to be bundled along a dark corridor and into an interview room. He was plonked down on an uncomfortable chair, handcuffed and left on his own to stew.
Mulch did not have time to stew. Every second he spent sitting here picking insects from his beard hair was another second that Artemis and Holly had to spend running from trolls.
The dwarf rose from the chair, slapping his palms against the two-way mirror inset in the interview room wall.
Chix Verbil, he shouted, I know youre watching me. We need to talk. Its about Holly Short.
Mulch kept right on banging on the glass until the cell door swung open and Chix Verbil entered the room. Chix was the LEPs fairy on the surface. Chix had been the first LEP casualty in the Bwa Kell goblin revolution, a year previously, and, had it not been for Holly Short, he would have been its first fatality. As it turned out, he got a medal from the Committee, a series of high-profile interviews on network television and a cushy surface job in El.
Chix entered suspiciously, his sprite wings folded behind him. The strap was off his Neutrino holster.
Mulch Diggums, isnt it? Are you surrendering?
Mulch snorted. What do you think? I go to all the trouble of breaking out, just to surrender to a sprite. I think not, lame brain.
Chix bristled, his wings fanning out behind him. Hey, listen, dwarf. Youre in no position to be making cracks. Youre in my custody, in case you hadnt noticed. There are six security fairies surrounding this room.
Security fairies. Dont make me laugh. They couldnt secure an apple in an orchard. I escaped from a sub-shuttle under a couple of miles of water. I can see at least six ways out of here without breaking a sweat.
Chix hovered nervously. Id like to see you try. Id have two charges in your behind before you could unhinge that jaw of yours.
Mulch winced. Dwarfs dont like behind jokes.
OK, easy there, Mister Gung-ho. Lets talk about your wing. Hows it healing up?
How do you know about that?
It was big news. You were all over the TV for a while, even on pirate satellite. I was watching your ugly face in Chicago not so long ago.
Chix preened. Chicago?
Thats right. You were saying, if I remember rightly, how Holly Short saved your life, and how sprites never forget a debt, and whenever she needed you, you were there, whatever it took.
Chix coughed nervously. A lot of that was scripted. And, anyway, that was before
Before one of the most decorated officers in the LEP suddenly decided to go crazy and shoot her own commander?
Yes. Before that.
Mulch looked Verbil straight in his green face. You dont believe that, do you?
Chix hovered even higher for a long moment, his wings whipping the air into currents. Then he settled back down to earth, sitting in the rooms second chair. No. I dont believe it. Not for a second. Julius Root was like a father to Holly, to all of us.
Chix covered his face with his hands, afraid to hear the answer to his next question.
So, Diggums. Why are you here?
Mulch leaned in close. Is this being recorded?
Of course. Standard operating procedure.
Can you switch off the mike?
I suppose. Why should I?
Because Im going to tell you something important to the Peoples survival. But Ill only tell you if the mikes are off.
Chixs wings began to flap once more. This better be really good. I better really like this, dwarf.