The Arctic Incident

The centaur was lying on the Operations Booth floor, tangled in the remains of his office chair.

“Cudgeon,” he growled, and what followed was about two minutes’ worth of unprintable obscenity.

When he had finally vented his anger the centaur’s brain kicked in, and he hauled himself from the plasma tiles. His rump was singed. He was going to have a couple of bald spots on his hindquarters. Very unattractive on a centaur. It was the first thing a prospective mate looked for in the nightclubs. Not that Foaly had ever been much of a dancer. Four left hooves.

The booth was sealed. Tighter than a gnome’s wallet, as the saying went. Foaly typed in his exit code.

“Foaly. Doors.”

The computer remained silent. He tried verbal.

“Foaly. One-twenty-one override. Doors.”

Not a peep. He was trapped. A prisoner of his own security devices. Even the windows were set to blackout, blocking his view of the Operations room. Completely locked out, and locked in. Nothing worked.

Well, that wasn’t completely accurate. Everything worked, but his precious computers wouldn’t respond to his touch. And Foaly was only too well aware that there was no way out of the booth without access to the mainframe.

Foaly plucked the tinfoil hat from his head, crunching it into a ball.

“A lot of good you did me!” he said, tossing it into the waste recycler. The recycler would analyze the chemical makeup of the item, then divert it to the appropriate tank.

A plasma monitor crackled into life on the wall. Opal Koboi’s magnified face appeared, grinning the widest grin the centaur had ever seen.

“Hello, Foaly. Long time no see.”

Foaly returned the grin, but his wasn’t quite as wide.

“Opal. How nice to see you. How are the folks?”

Everyone knew how Opal had bankrupted her father. It was a legend in the corporate world.

“Very well, thanks. Cumulus House is a lovely asylum.”

Foaly decided he would try sincerity. It was a tool he didn’t use very often. But there was a first time for everything.

“Opal. Think about what you’re doing. Cudgeon is insane, for pity’s sake. Once he has what he wants, he will dispose of you in a heartbeat!”

The pixie shook a perfectly manicured finger.

“No, Foaly, you’re wrong. Briar needs me. He really does. He’d be nothing without me and my gold.”

The centaur looked deep into Opal’s eyes. The pixie actually believed what she was saying. How could someone so brilliant be so deluded?

“I know what this is all about, Opal.”

“Oh, you do?”

“Yes. You’re still sore because I won the science medal back in university.”

For a second Koboi’s composure slipped, and her features didn’t seem quite so perfect.

“That medal was mine, you stupid centaur. My wing design was far superior to your ridiculous iris-cam. You won because you were a male. And that’s the only reason.”

Foaly grinned satisfied. Even with the odds so hugely against him, he hadn’t lost the ability to be the most annoying creature under the world when he wanted to be.

“So what do you want, Opal? Or did you just call to chat about our school days?”

Opal took a long drink from a crystal glass.

“I just called, Foaly, to let you know I’m watching, so don’t try anything. I also wanted to show you something from the security cameras downtown. This is live footage by the way, and Briar is with the Council right now, blaming you for it. Happy viewing.”

Opal’s face disappeared to be replaced by a high-angle view of downtown Haven. A tourist district, outside Spud’s Spud Emporium. Generally, this area would be thronged with Atlantean couples taking photos of each other in front of the fountain. But not today, because today the square was a battleground. The B’wa Kell were waging open war with the LEP, and by the looks of things, it was a one-sided battle. The goblins were firing their softnose weapons, but the police were not shooting back. They just huddled behind whatever shelter they could find. Completely helpless.

Foaly’s jaw dropped. This was disastrous. And he was being blamed for everything. Of course, the thing about stool pigeons was, they could not be left alive to protest their innocence. He had to get a message to Holly, and fast, or they were all dead fairies.





CHAPTER 10





TROUBLE AND STRIFE


Downtown Haven


Spud’s Spud Emporium was not a place you wanted to be on the best of days. The fries were greasy, the meat was mysterious, and the milk shakes had gristly lumps. Nevertheless, the emporium did a roaring trade, especially during the solstice.

At this precise moment, Captain Trouble Kelp would almost have preferred to be inside the fast-food joint choking down a rubbery burger than outside it dodging lasers. Almost.