Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer [49]
They crossed the Retrieval perimeter to the avenue.
“Do you see that manor?”
“What manor?”
Root rounded on him. “I don’t have time for this, convict. Nearly half my time-stop has elapsed. Another few hours and one of my best officers will be blue-rinsed!”
Mulch shrugged. “None of my concern. I’m just a criminal, remember. And by the way, I know what you want me to do, and the answer is no.”
“I haven’t even asked you yet.”
“It’s obvious. I’m a house-breaker. That’s a house. You can’t go in because you’ll lose your magic, but my magic is already gone. Two and two.”
Root spat out the cigar. “Don’t you have any civic pride? Our entire way of life is on the line here.”
“Not my way of life. Fairy prison, human prison. It’s all the same to me.”
The commander thought about it.
“Okay, you slime. Fifty years off your sentence.”
“I want amnesty.” “In your dreams, Mulch.” “Take it or leave it.” “Seventy-five years in minimum security. You take it or leave it.” Mulch pretended to think. It was all academic, seeing
as he intended to escape anyway. “Single cell?” “Yes, yes. Single cell. Now, will you do it?” “Very well, Julius. Only because it’s you.”
Foaly was searching for a matching iris-cam. “Hazel, I think. Or perhaps tawny. You really do have stunning eyes, Mister Mulch.” “Thank you, Foaly. My mother always said they were my most attractive feature.” Root was pacing the shuttle floor. “You two do realize we’re on a deadline here, don’t you?
Never mind matching the color. Just give him a camera.” Foaly plucked a lens from its solution with tweezers. “This is not just vanity, Commander. The closer the match, the less interference from the actual eye.” “Whatever, whatever, just get on with it.” Foaly grabbed Mulch’s chin, holding him still. “There you are. We’re with you all the way.” Foaly twisted a tiny cylinder into the thick tufts of hair growing from Mulch’s ear.
“Wired for sound now, too. In case you need to call for assistance.”
The dwarf smiled wryly. “Forgive me for not swelling with confidence. I find I’ve always done better on my own.”
“If you can call seventeen convictions doing better,” chuckled Root.
“Oh, we have time for jokes now, do we?”
Root grabbed him by the shoulder. “You’re right. We don’t. Let’s go.”
He dragged Mulch across a grassy verge to a cluster of cherry trees.
“I want you to tunnel in there and find out how this Fowl person knows so much about us. Probably some surveillance device. Whatever it is, destroy it. Find Captain Short if possible and see what you can do for her. If she is dead, at least it will clear the way for a bio-bomb.”
Mulch squinted across the landscape. “I don’t like it.”
“What don’t you like?”
“The lie of the land. I smell limestone. Solid-rock foundation. There might not be a way in.”
Foaly trotted across. “I’ve done a scan. The original structure is based totally on rock, but some of the later extensions stray on to clay. The wine cellar in the south wing appears to have a wooden floor. It should be no problem for someone with a mouth like yours.”
Mulch decided to take that as a statement of fact rather than an insult. He opened the back flap on his tunneling pants. “Right. Stand back.”
Root and the surrounding LEP officers rushed for cover, but Foaly, who had never actually seen a dwarf tunneling, decided to stay for a peek.
“Good luck, Mulch.”
The dwarf unhinged his jaw.
“Ank oo,” he mumbled, bending over for launch.
The centaur looked around.
“Where’s everyone—”
He never finished that statement, because a blob of recently swallowed and even more recently recycled limestone whacked him in the face. By the time he’d cleared his eyes, Mulch had disappeared down a vibrating hole, and there was the sound of hearty laughter shaking the cherry trees.
Mulch followed a loamy vein through a volcanic fold in the rock. Nice consistency, not too many loose stones. Plenty of insect life too. Vital for strong healthy teeth, a dwarf’s most important attribute—the first thing a prospective mate looked at. Mulch went low to the