Artemis Fowl_ The Arctic Incident - Eoin Colfer [67]
He caught Opal’s eye. She knew what he was thinking. Her tiny teeth showed in anticipation. What a delightfully vicious creature. Which was, of course, why she had to be disposed of. Opal Koboi could never be happy as second in command.
He dropped her a wink.
‘Soon,’ he mouthed silently. ‘Soon.’
CHAPTER 13: INTO THE BREACH
BELOW KOBOI LABORATORIES
AN LEP shuttle is shaped like a teardrop, bottom heavy with thrusters and a nose that could cut through steel. Of course our heroes weren’t in an LEP shuttle, they were in the ambassador’s luxury cruiser. Comfort was definitely favoured over speed. It had a nose like a gnome’s behind. Bulky and expensive-looking, with a grill you could use to barbecue buffalo.
‘So, you’re saying this fissure is going to open up for a couple of minutes and I have to fly through. And that’s the entire plan?’ said Holly.
‘It’s the best we’ve got,’ said Root glumly.
‘Well, at least we’ll be in padded seats when we get squashed. This thing handles like a three-legged rhinoceros.’
‘How was I to know?’ grumbled Root. ‘This was supposed to be a routine run. This shuttle has an excellent stereo.’
Butler raised his hand. ‘Listen. What’s that sound?’
They listened. The noise came from below them, like a giant clearing its throat.
Holly consulted the keel cams.
‘Flare,’ she announced. ‘Big sucker. It’ll be roasting our tail feathers any minute.’
The rock face before them cracked and groaned in constant expansion and retraction. Fissures heaved like grinning mouths lined with black teeth.
‘That’s it. Let’s go,’ urged Mulch. ‘That fissure is going to seal up faster than a stink worm’s –’
‘Not enough room yet,’ snapped Holly. ‘This is a shuttle, not one fat dwarf riding stolen wings.’
Mulch was too scared to be insulted. ‘Just move it. It’ll widen as we go.’
Generally Holly would have waited for Root to give the green light. But this was her area. No one was going to argue with Captain Holly Short at the controls of a shuttle.
The chasm shuddered open another metre.
Holly gritted her teeth. ‘Hold on to your ears,’ she said, ramming the thrusters to maximum.
The craft’s occupants clutched their armrests, and more than one of them closed their eyes. But not Artemis.
He couldn’t. There was something morbidly fascinating about flying into an uncharted tunnel at a reckless speed, with only a kleptomaniac dwarf’s word for what lay at the other end.
Holly concentrated on her instruments. Hull cameras and sensors fed information to various screens and speakers. Sonar was going crazy, beeping so fast it was almost a continuous whine. Fixed halogen headlights fed frightening images to the monitors, and laser radar drew a green 3D line picture on a dark screen. Then, of course, there was the quartz windscreen. But with sheets of rock dust and larger debris, the naked eye was next to useless.
‘Temperature increasing,’ she muttered, glancing at the rear-view monitor. An orange magma column blasted past the fissure mouth, spilling over into the tunnel.
They were in a desperate race. The fissure was closing behind them and expanding before the craft’s prow. The noise was terrific. Thunder in a bubble.
Mulch covered his ears. ‘Next time, I’ll take Howler’s Peak.’
‘Quiet, convict,’ growled Root. ‘This was all your idea.’
Their arguing was interrupted by a tremendous grating, sending sparks dancing across the windscreen.
‘Sorry,’ apologized Captain Short. ‘There goes our communications array.’
She flipped the craft sideways, scraping between two shifting plates. The magma’s heat coated the rock face, dragging the plates together. A jagged edge clipped the shuttle’s rear as the plates crashed behind them. A giant’s handclap. Butler held his Sig Sauer. It was a comfort thing.
Then they were through, spiralling into a cavern towards three enormous titanium rods.
‘There,’ gasped Mulch. ‘The foundation rods.’
Holly rolled her eyes. ‘You don’t say,’ she groaned, firing the docking clamps.
Mulch had drawn another diagram. This one looked