Artemis Fowl_ The Opal Deception - Eoin Colfer [12]
Artemis glared back. “Yes, Colonel, but we’re not in the army here, are we?”
Kurt slipped Artemis’s pack from his back and rifled through the contents.
“What’s this?” he asked, pulling out a toughened plastic frame.
Artemis took the frame, unfolding it with three deft movements. “It’s a scooter, dude. You may have heard of them. Transportation that doesn’t pollute the air we breathe.”
Kurt snatched back the scooter, spinning the wheels and checking the joints.
Artemis smirked. “Of course, it’s also a laser cutter, so I can break into your boxes.”
“You’re a real smart aleck, boy,” snarled Kurt, stuffing the scooter back in the bag. “And what’s this?”
Artemis turned on the video game. “It’s a game box. They were invented so teenagers wouldn’t have to talk to grown-ups.”
Kurt glanced at Butler. “He’s a gem, sir. I wish I had one just like him.” He rattled a ring of keys on Artemis’s belt. “And what are these?”
Artemis scratched his head. “Uh . . . keys?”
Kurt ground his teeth audibly. “I know they’re keys, boy. What do they open?”
Artemis shrugged. “Stuff. My locker. My scooter lock. A couple of diaries. Stuff.”
The security guard examined the keys. They were everyday keys, and wouldn’t open a complicated lock. But the bank had a no-key rule. Only safe-deposit box keys were allowed through the metal detector.
“Sorry. The keys stay here.” Kurt unclipped the ring and placed the keys in a flat tray. “You can pick them up on your way out.”
“Can I go now?”
“Yes,” said Kurt. “Please do, but pass the bag through to your father first.”
Artemis handed the bag around the metal detector arch to Butler. He passed through himself, setting off the buzzer.
Kurt followed him impatiently. “Do you have anything else metallic on you? A belt buckle? Some coins?”
“Money?” scoffed Artemis. “I wish.”
“What’s setting off the detector, then?” said Kurt, puzzled.
“I think I know,” said Artemis. He hooked a finger inside his top lip, pulling it up. Two metal bands ran across his teeth.
“Braces. That would do it,” said Kurt. “The detector is extremely sensitive.”
Artemis removed his finger from his mouth. “Should I take these out too? Rip them from my teeth?”
Kurt took the suggestion at face value. “No. I think we’re safe enough. Just go on through. But behave yourself in there. It’s a vault, not a playground.” Kurt paused, pointing to a camera above their heads. “Remember, I’ll be watching.”
“Watch all you like,” said Artemis brazenly.
“Oh, I will, boy. You so much as spit on one of those doors, and I’ll eject you from the premises. Forcibly.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Kurt,” said Bertholt. “Don’t be so theatrical. Those are not network television cameras, you know.”
Bertholt ushered them through to the vault door. “I apologize for Kurt. He failed the special-forces exam and ended up here. Sometimes I think he would love someone to rob the place, just so he could see some action.”
The door was a circular slab of steel, at least sixteen feet in diameter. In spite of its size, the door swung easily at Bertholt’s touch.
“Perfectly balanced,” explained the bank official. “A child could open it, until five thirty when it shuts for the night. Naturally the vault is time locked. Nobody can open the door until eight thirty A.M. Not even the bank president.”
Inside the vault were rows and rows of steel deposit boxes of all shapes and sizes. Each box had a single rectangular keyhole on its face, surrounded by a fiber-optic light. At the moment all the lights glowed red.
Bertholt took a key from his pocket; it was attached to his belt by a woven steel cable. “Of course the key’s shape is not the only important thing,” he said, inserting the key into a master keyhole. “The locks are also operated by microchip.”
Butler took a similar key from his wallet. “Are we ready?”
“Whenever you are, sir.”
Butler ran his fingers over several boxes until he reached number seven hundred. He inserted his key in the keyhole. “Ready.”
“Very