Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer [37]
Root’s face took on that familiar purple hue.
“The best thing you can do right now is stay out of my way, or else I may be forced to ram that blue rinse straight into that morass you call a brain.”
Cudgeon was unperturbed. “Insulting me doesn’t change the facts, Julius. You know what the Book says. We cannot under any circumstances allow the Lower Elements to be compromised. One time-stop is all you get, after that . . .”
The lieutenant didn’t finish his statement. He didn’t have to.
“I know what the Book says,” snapped Root. “I just wish you weren’t so gung ho about it. If I didn’t know you better, I’d say there was some human blood in you.”
“There’s no call for that,” pouted Cudgeon. “I’m only doing my job.”
“Point taken,” conceded the commander. “I’m sorry.”
You didn’t often hear Root apologizing, but then it had been a deeply offensive insult.
Butler was on monitors.
“Anything?” asked Artemis.
Butler started; he hadn’t heard the young master come in.
“No. Nothing. Once or twice I thought I saw a flicker, but it turned out to be nothing.”
“Nothing is nothing,” commented Artemis cryptically. “Use the new camera.”
Butler nodded. Only last month, Master Fowl had purchased a cinecamera over the Internet. Two thousand frames a second, recently developed by Industrial Light and Magic for specialized nature shoots, hummingbird wings, and such. It processed images faster than the human eye could. Artemis had had it installed behind a cherub over the main entrance.
Butler activated the joypad.
“Where?”
“Try the avenue. I have a feeling visitors are on the way.”
The manservant manipulated the toothpick-sized stick with his massive fingers. A live image sprang into life on the digital monitor.
“Nothing,” muttered Butler. “Quiet as the grave.”
Artemis pointed to the control desk.
“Freeze it.”
Butler nearly questioned the order. Nearly. Instead he held his tongue and pressed the pad. On screen, the cherry trees froze, blossoms trapped in midair. More important, a dozen or so black-clad figures suddenly appeared on the avenue.
“What!” exclaimed Butler. “Where did they spring from?”
“They’re shielded,” explained Artemis. “Vibrating at high speed. Too fast for the human eye to follow . . .”
“But not for the camera,” nodded Butler. Master Artemis. Always two steps ahead. “If only I could carry it around with me.”
“If only. But we do have the next best thing. . . .”
Artemis lifted a headset gingerly from the workbench. It was the remains of Holly’s helmet. Obviously, trying to cram Butler’s head into the original helmet would be like trying to fit a potato into a thimble. Only the visor and control buttons were intact. Straps from a hard hat had been rigged to fit the manservant’s cranium.
“This thing is equipped with several filters. It stands to reason that one of them is anti-shield. Let’s try it out, shall we?”
Artemis placed the set over Butler’s ears.
“Obviously, with your eye span, there are going to be blind spots, but that shouldn’t hamper you unduly. Now, run the camera.”
Butler set the camera rolling again, while Artemis slotted down one filter after another.
“Now?”
“No.”
“Now ...”
“Everything’s gone red. Ultraviolet. No fairies.”
“Now?”
“No. Polaroid, I think.”
“Last one.”
Butler smiled. A shark that’s spotted a bare behind.
,
“Got em.”
Butler was seeing the world as it was, complete with LEPretrieval team sweeping the avenue.
“Hmm,” said Artemis. “Strobe variation, I would guess. Very high frequency.”
“I see,” fibbed Butler.
“Metaphorically or literally?” His employer smiled.
“Exactly.”
Artemis shook himself. More jokes. Next thing he’d be wearing clown shoes and turning cartwheels in the main hall.
“Very well, Butler. Time for you to do what you do best. We appear to have intruders in the grounds. . . .”
Butler stood. No further instructions were necessary. He tightened the hard-hat straps, striding brusquely to the door.
“Oh, and, Butler . . .”
“Yes, Artemis?”
“I prefer scared to dead. If possible.”