Artemis Fowl_ The Arctic Incident - Eoin Colfer [46]
Foaly thought. Who could it be? Who could beat him at his own game? Not Cudgeon, that was for sure. A techno fool if ever there was one. No, there was only one person with the ability to crack the Centaurian code and deactivate the booth’s safety measures.
‘Opal Koboi,’ he breathed.
Cudgeon patted Foaly’s head. ‘That’s right. Opal planted a few spy cams during the upgrading work. Once you were kind enough to translate a few documents for the camera, it was a simple matter to crack your code and do a little reprogramming. And the funny thing is, the Council footed the bill. She even charged for the spy cameras. Even now, the B’ wa Kell is preparing to launch its attack on the city. LEP weapons and communications are down, and the best thing is that you, my horsy friend, will be held responsible. After all, you have locked yourself in the Operations’ booth in the middle of a crisis.’
‘Nobody will believe it!’ protested Foaly.
‘Oh yes they will, especially when you disengage the LEP security, including the DNA cannons.’
‘Which I won’t be doing anytime soon.’
Cudgeon twirled a matt-black remote between his fingers. ‘I’m afraid it’s not up to you any more. Opal took your little operation apart and wired the whole lot into this little beauty.’
Foaly swallowed. ‘You mean…?’
‘That’s right,’ said Cudgeon. ‘Nothing works unless I press the button.’
He pressed the button. And even if Foaly had had the reactions of a sprite, he would never have had time to draw up all his hooves before the plasma shock blasted him right out of his specially modified swivel chair.
ARCTIC CIRCLE
Butler instructed everyone to attach themselves to the Moonbelt, one per link. Floating slightly in the buffeting wind, the group manoeuvred itself to the carriage doorway like a drunken crab.
It’s simple physics, Artemis told himself. Reduced gravity will prevent us being dashed against the Arctic ice. In spite of all his logic, when Root launched the group into the night, Artemis couldn’t hold back a single gasp. Later, when he replayed the incident in his mind’s eye, Artemis would edit out the breath.
The slipstream spun them beyond the railway sleepers, into a drift. Butler turned off the anti-gravity belt a second before impact, otherwise they could have bounced away, like men on the moon.
Root was first to detach, scooping handfuls of snow from the surface until his fingers reached the compacted ice below.
‘It’s no use,’ he said. ‘I can’t break through the ice.’
He heard a click behind his shoulder.
‘Stand back,’ advised Butler, taking aim with his handgun.
Root obliged, shielding his eyes with a forearm. Ice slivers could blind you just as efficiently as six-inch nails. Butler put a full clip into a narrow spread, blasting a shallow hollow in the frozen surface. Instant sleet drenched the already sodden group.
Root was checking the results before the smoke cleared. He brought Butler up to speed – they had seconds left before Holly’s time ran out. They needed to complete the Ritual. After a certain time it mightn’t be wise to attempt a graft. Even if they could.
The commander jumped into the dip, sweeping aside layers of loose ice. There was a disk of brown among the white.
‘Yes!’he crowed.‘Earth!’
Butler lowered Holly’s twitching form into the hole. She seemed like a doll in his powerful hands. Tiny and limp. Root curled Holly’s fingers around the illegal acorn, thrusting her left hand deep into the shattered soil. He pulled a roll of tape from his belt, crudely securing the finger to roughly its original position.
The elf and two humans gathered around and waited.
‘It mightn’t take,’ muttered Root nervously. ‘This sealed acorn thing is new. Never been tested. Foaly and his ideas. But they usually work. They usually do.’
Artemis laid a hand on his shoulder. It was all he could think to do. Giving comfort was not one of his strong points.
Five seconds. Ten. Nothing.
Then…
‘Look!’ cried Artemis. ‘A spark.’
A solitary blue spark travelled lazily along the length of Holly’s arm, winding along the