“That narrows it down to a quarter of the planet,” said Foaly caustically.
The hubbub in the room rose as, onscreen, one of the two bulky gnomes standing behind Opal drew a human automatic handgun, the chrome weapon looking like a cannon in his fairy fingers.
It seemed as though the temperature had suddenly dropped in the Situation room.
“I need quiet,” said Artemis. “Get these people out of here.”
On most days Trouble Kelp would argue that Artemis had no authority to clear a room, and would possibly invite more people into the cramped office just to prove his point—but this was not most days.
“Everybody out,” he barked at the assembled officers. “Holly, Foaly, and the Mud Boy, stay where you are.”
“I think perhaps I’ll stay too,” said Butler, shielding the top of his head from lamp burn with one hand.
Nobody objected.
Usually the LEP officers would shuffle with macho reluctance when ordered to move, but in this instance they rushed to the nearest monitor, eager not to miss a single frame of unfolding events.
Foaly shut the door behind them with a swing of his hoof, then darkened the window glass so there would be no distraction from outside. The remaining four stood in a ragged semicircle before the wall screen, watching what would appear to be the last minutes of Opal Koboi’s life. One of the Opal Kobois, at any rate.
There were two gnomes onscreen, both wearing full-face anti-UV party masks that could be programmed to resemble anyone. These had been modeled on Pip and Kip, two popular kitty-cat cartoon characters on TV, but the figures were still recognizable as gnomes because of their stocky barrel torsos and bloated forearms. They stood before a nondescript gray wall, looming over the tiny pixie who knelt in the mud tracks of some wheeled vehicle, waterline creeping along the legs of her designer tracksuit. Opal’s wrists were bound and her mouth taped, and she seemed genuinely terrified.
The gnome with the pistol spoke through a vox-box in the mask, disguising his voice as Pip the kitty-cat.
“I can’t make it any plainer,” he squeaked, and somehow the cartoon voice made him seem more dangerous. “We got one Opal, you got the other. You let your Opal go, and we don’t kill this one. You had twenty minutes; now you have fifteen.”
Pip the kitty-cat cocked his weapon.
Butler tapped Holly’s shoulder.
“Did he just say–?”
“Yeah. Fifteen minutes, or Opal’s dead.”
Butler popped a translator bud into his ear. This was too important to trust to his dubious grasp of Gnommish.
Trouble Kelp was incredulous. “What kind of deal is that? Give us a terrorist, or we kill a terrorist?”
“We can’t just let someone be murdered before our eyes,” said Holly.
“Absolutely not,” agreed Foaly. “We are not humans.”
Artemis cleared his throat.
“Sorry, Artemis,” said the centaur. “But you humans are a bloodthirsty bunch. Sure, we may produce the occasional power-crazed pixie, but by and large the People are peace-loving folk. Which is probably why we live down here in the first place.”
Trouble Kelp actually snarled, one of his leadership devices—which not many people could carry off, especially when they stood barely more than three feet high in what Artemis was sure were stacked boots. But Trouble’s snarl was convincing enough to stifle the bickering.
“Focus, people,” he said. “I need solutions here. Under no circumstances can we release Opal Koboi, but we can’t just stand by and allow her to be murdered either.”
The computer had picked up the references to Koboi onscreen and had elected to run her file on a side screen, in case anyone needed their memory refreshed.
Opal Koboi. Certified genius pixie industrialist and inventor. Orchestrated the goblin coup and insurrection. Cloned herself to escape prison and attempted to lead the humans to Haven. Responsible for the murder of Commander Julius Root. Had human pituitary gland implanted to manufacture growth hormone (subsequently removed). Younger version of Opal followed Captain Short from the past and is currently at large in present time line. It is assumed she will attempt to free her incarcerated self and return to her own time stream. Opal is in the unprecedented position of occupying places one and two on the LEP Most Dangerous list. Categorized as highly intelligent, motivated, and psychotic.
This is a bold move, Opal, thought Artemis. And with potentially catastrophic repercussions.
He felt rather than saw Holly at his elbow.
“What do you think, Artemis?”
Artemis frowned. “My first impression is to call it a bluff. But Opal’s plans always take into account first impressions.”
“It could be a ruse. Perhaps those goblins would simply shoot her with a blank?”