The Arctic Incident

Root shook his head. “I wish it were that simple, and in a few minutes so will you.”


Mulch’s beard hairs curled in apprehension. And as his grandmother always said, Trust the hair, Mulch, trust the hair.





CHAPTER 12





THE BOYS ARE BACK


Operations Booth


Foaly was thinking. Always thinking. His mind popped off ideas like corn in a microwave. But he couldn’t do anything with them. He couldn’t even call up Julius and pester him with his harebrained schemes. Fowl’s laptop seemed to be the centaur’s only weapon. It was like trying to fight a troll with a toothpick.

Not that the human computer was without some merit, in an ancient-history kind of a way. The e-mail had already proved useful. Provided there was anybody alive to answer it. There was also a small camera mounted on the lid, for video conferencing. Something the Mud Men had only come up with recently. Until then, humans had communicated purely through text or sound waves. Foaly tutted.

Barbarians. But this camera was pretty high quality, with several filter options. If the centaur didn’t know better, he’d swear someone had been leaking fairy technology.

Foaly swiveled the laptop with his hoof, pointing the camera toward the screens. Come on Cudgeon, he thought. Smile for the birdie.

He didn’t have long to wait. Within minutes a com screen flickered into life, and Cudgeon appeared, waving a white flag.

“Nice touch,” commented Foaly sarcastically.

“I thought so,” smiled the elf, waving the pennant theatrically. “I’m going to need this later.”

Cudgeon pressed a button on the remote control.

“Why don’t I show you what’s going on outside?”

The windows cleared to reveal several squads of technicians feverishly trying to break the booth’s defenses. Most were aiming computer sensors at the booth’s various interfaces, but some were doing it the old-fashioned way, whacking the sensors with big hammers. None were having any luck.

Foaly swallowed. He was a rat in a trap.

“Why don’t you fill me in on your plan, Briar? Isn’t that what the power-crazed villain usually does?”

Cudgeon settled back into his swivel chair.

“Certainly, Foaly. Because this isn’t one of your precious human movies. There will be no hero rushing in at the last moment. Short and Root are already dead. As are their human partners. No reprieve, no rescue. Just certain death.”

Foaly knew he should be feeling sadness, but hatred was all he could find.

“Just when things are at their most desperate, I shall instruct Opal to return weapons control to the LEP. The B’wa Kell will be rendered unconscious, and you will be blamed for the entire affair, providing you survive, which I doubt.”

“When the B’wa Kell recover, they will name you.”

Cudgeon wagged a finger. “Only a handful know I am involved, and I shall take care of them personally. They have already been summoned to Koboi Labs. I shall join them shortly. The DNA cannons are being calibrated to reject goblin strands. When the time comes, I shall activate them, and the entire squadron will be out for the count.”

“And then, Opal Koboi becomes your empress, I suppose?”

“Of course,” said Cudgeon aloud. But then he manipulated the remote’s keyboard, making certain they were on a secure channel.

“Empress?” he breathed. “Really, Foaly. Do you think I’d go to all this trouble to share power? Oh no, as soon as this charade is over Miss Koboi will have a tragic accident. Perhaps several tragic accidents.”

Foaly bristled. “At the risk of sounding clichéd, Briar, you’ll never get away with this.”

Cudgeon’s finger hovered over the terminate button.

“Well, if I don’t,” he said pleasantly, “you won’t be alive to gloat this time.”

And he was gone, leaving the centaur to sweat it out in the booth. Or so Cudgeon thought.

Foaly reached below the desk to the laptop.

“And cut,” he murmured, pausing the camera. “Take five, people, that’s a wrap.”





Chute E116


Holly clamped the shuttle on the wall of a disused chute.

“We’ve got about thirty minutes. Internal sensors says there’s a flare coming up here in half an hour, and no shuttle is built to withstand that kind of heat.”

They gathered in the pressurized lounge to put together a plan. All eyes naturally turned to Artemis. “As I said, we need to break into Koboi Labs and regain control of the LEP weaponry.”

Mulch was out of his chair and heading for the door.

“No way, Julius. That place has been upgraded since I was there. I heard they’ve got DNA-coded cannons.”

Root grabbed the dwarf by the scruff of his neck.

“One: don’t call me Julius. And two: you’re acting as if you have a choice, convict.”

Mulch glared at him. “I do have a choice, Julius. I can just serve out my sentence in a nice little cell. Putting me in the line of fire is a violation of my civil rights.”