Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer [42]
It was Foaly’s idea to mechanize the whole procedure. He had the warlocks do their thing into lithium batteries, and then set up a network of receiver dishes around the designated area. Sounds simple? Well, it wasn’t. But there were definite advantages. For one thing, there were no more power surges. Batteries didn’t try to show off to each other. You could calculate exactly how many power cells were needed, and sieges could be extended for up to eight hours.
As it happened, the Fowl estate was the perfect location for a time-stop—isolated with a definite boundary. It even had elevated towers for the dishes, for heaven’s sake. It was almost as if Artemis Fowl wanted it to be time-stopped . . . Foaly’s finger hesitated over the button. Could it be possible? After all, the human youth had been one step ahead throughout this whole affair.
“Commander?”
“Are we on-line yet?”
“Not exactly. There’s something—”
Root’s reaction nearly blew out the woofers in Foaly’s earpiece.
“No, Foaly! There isn’t something! None of your bright ideas, thank you very much. Captain Short’s life is in danger, so push the button before I climb that tower and push it with your face!”
“Touchy,” muttered Foaly, and pushed the button.
Lieutenant Cudgeon checked his moonometer.
“You have eight hours.”
“I know how much time I have,” growled Root. “And stop following me. Don’t you have work to do?”
“Actually, now that you mention it, I have a bio-bomb to arm.”
Root rounded on him. “Don’t annoy me, Lieutenant.
Having you make comments at every turn is not improving my concentration. Just do whatever it is you feel you have to do. But be prepared to back it up at tribunal. If this one goes wrong, heads are going to roll.”
“Indeed,” muttered Cudgeon under his breath. “But mine is not going to be one of them.”
Root checked the sky. A shimmering azure field had descended over the Fowl estate. Good. They were in limbo. Outside the walls, life continued at an exaggerated pace, but if anyone were to somehow gain access to the manor in spite of the fortified walls and high gate, they would find it deserted, all occupants trapped in the past.
So for the next eight hours, it would be twilight on the Fowl estate. After that, Root could not guarantee Holly’s safety. Given the gravity of the situation, it was more than likely that Cudgeon would get the go-ahead to bio-bomb the whole place. Root had seen a blue rinse before. No living thing escaped, not even the rats.
Root caught up with Foaly at the base of the north tower. The centaur had parked a shuttle by the three-foot-thick wall. Already the work area was a mess of tangled wires and pulsating fiber optics.
“Foaly? Are you in here?”
The centaur’s foil-capped head emerged from the belly of a disemboweled hard drive.
“Over here, Commander. You’ve come to push a button with my face, I presume.”
Root almost laughed. “Don’t tell me you’re looking for an apology, Foaly. I’ve already used my quota for today. And that was to a lifelong friend.”
“Cudgeon? Forgive me, Commander, but I wouldn’t waste my apologies on the lieutenant. He won’t be wasting any on you when he stabs you in the back.”
“You’re wrong about him. Cudgeon is a good officer. A bit eager, certainly, but he’ll do the right thing when the time comes.”
“The right thing for himself, maybe. I don’t think Holly is at the top of his priority list.”
Root didn’t answer. He couldn’t.
“And another thing. I have a sneaking suspicion that young Artemis Fowl wanted us to stop time. After all, everything else we’ve tried has played straight into his hands.”
Root rubbed his temples. “That’s impossible. How could a human know about time-stoppage? Anyway, this is no time for theorizing, Foaly. I have less than eight hours to clean up this mess.