The Arctic Incident

They descended from the shuttle on a folding stairway.

Artemis stepped onto the surface, picking his way through the jagged stones and construction debris abandoned by Mulch and his cousin a century earlier. The cavern was lit by the starlike twinkle of rock phosphorescence.

“This place is a geological marvel,” he exclaimed. “The pressure at this depth should be crushing us, but it isn’t.”

He knelt to examine a fungus sprouting from a rusting paint tin.

“There’s even life.”

Mulch wrenched the remains of a hammer from between two rocks.

“So that’s where this got to. We overdid it a bit on the explosives, blasting the shaft for these columns. Some of our waste must have . . . fallen down here.”

Holly was appalled. Pollution is an abomination to the People.

“You’ve broken so many laws here, Mulch, I don’t even have the fingers to count them. When you get that two-day head start, you’d better move fast, because I’m going to be the one chasing you.”

“Here we are,” said Mulch, ignoring the threat. When you’d heard as many as he had, they just rolled right off.

There was a hole bored into one of the columns. Mulch rubbed the edges fondly.

“Diamond laser cutter. Little nuclear battery. That baby could cut through anything.”

“I remember that cutter too,” said Root. “You nearly decapitated me with it once.”

Mulch sighed. “Happy days, eh, Julius?”

Root’s reply was a swift kick in the behind.

“Less talk, more eating dirt, convict.”

Holly placed her hand into the hole.

“Air currents. The pressure field from the city must have equalized this cave over the years. That’s why we’re not flat as manta rays right now.”

“I see,” said Butler and Root simultaneously. Another lie for the list.

Mulch undid his back flap.

“I’ll tunnel up to the top and wait for you there. Clear as much of the debris as you can. I’ll spread the recycled mud around, to avoid closing up the shaft.”

Artemis groaned. The idea of crawling through Mulch’s recyclings was almost intolerable. Only the thought of his father kept him going.

Mulch stepped into the shaft. “Stand back,” he warned, unhinging his jaw.

Butler moved quickly, he was not about to get nailed by dwarf gas again.

Mulch disappeared up to his waist in the titanium column. In moments he had disappeared entirely. The pipe began to shudder with strange, unappetizing sounds. Chunks of clay clattered against the metal walls. A constant stream of condensed air and debris spiraled from the hole.

“Amazing,” breathed Artemis. “What I could do with ten like him. Fort Knox would be a pushover.”

“Don’t even think about it,” warned Root. He turned to Butler. “What have we got?”

The manservant drew his pistol.

“This is it. I’ll take the gun, since I’m the only one who can lift it. You two pick up whatever you can on the run.”

“And what about me?” asked Artemis, even though he knew what was coming.

Butler looked his master straight in the eye.

“I want you to stay here. This is a military operation. All you can do is get yourself killed.”

“But ...”

“My job is to protect you, Artemis, and this is quite possibly the safest spot on the planet.”

Artemis didn’t argue. In truth, these facts had already occurred to him. Sometimes being a genius was a burden.

“Very well, Butler. I shall remain here. Unless . . .”

Butler’s eyes narrowed. “Unless what?”

Artemis smiled his dangerous smile. “Unless I have an idea.”





Police Plaza


In Police Plaza the situation was desperate. Captain Kelp had pulled the remaining forces into a circle behind overturned workstations. The goblins were taking potshots through the doorway, and none of the warlocks had a drop of magic left in them. Anyone who got injured from now on would stay injured.

The Council were huddled behind a wall of troops, all except Wing Commander Vinyáya, who had demanded to be given one of the electronic rifles. She hadn’t missed yet.

The techs were crouched behind their desks, trying every code combination in the book to gain access to the Operations Booth. Trouble didn’t hold out much hope on that front. If Foaly locked a door, then it stayed locked.

Meanwhile, inside the booth all the centaur could do was pound his fists in frustration. It was a sign of Cudgeon’s cruelty that he allowed Foaly to view the battle beyond the blast windows.

It seemed hopeless. Even if Julius and Holly had received his message, it was too late now to do anything. Foaly’s lips and throat were dry. Everything had deserted him. His computer, his intellect, his glib sarcasm. Everything.





Below Koboi Labs


Something wet slapped Butler in the head.

“What was that?” he hissed at Holly, who was bringing up the rear.