Artemis Fowl_ The Opal Deception - Eoin Colfer [84]
The first place to check was the video footage from E37. If one began with the assumption that Koboi was indeed alive, then a number of details could be explained. Firstly, the strange haze that had appeared on all the tapes was not simply interference, but manufactured to hide something. The loss of audio signal, too, could have been orchestrated by Koboi to cover whatever had passed between Holly and Julius in the tunnel. And the calamitous explosion could have been Koboi’s doing and not Holly’s. The possibility brought tremendous peace to Foaly, but he contained it. He hadn’t proven anything yet.
Foaly ran the tape through a few filters without result. The strange blurred section refused to be sharpened, cloned, or shifted. That in itself was unusual. If the blurred spot was just computer glitchery, Foaly should have been able to do something about it. But the indistinct patch stood its ground, repelling everything Foaly threw at it.
You may have the hi-tech ground covered, thought the centaur, but what about good old lo-tech?
Foaly zoomed the footage to moments before the explosion. The blurred patch had transferred itself to Julius’s chest, and indeed at times, the commander appeared to be looking at it. Was there an explosive device under there? If so, then it must have been remotely detonated. The jammer signal was probably sent from the same remote. The detonation command would override all other signals, including the jammer. This meant that for perhaps a thousandth of a second before detonation, whatever was on Julius’s chest would become visible. Not long enough for the fairy eye to capture, but a camera would see it just fine.
Foaly fast-forwarded to the explosion and then began to work his way backward, frame by frame. It was agonizing work, watching his friend being reassembled by the reversed film. The centaur tried to ignore it and concentrate on the work. The flames shrank from orange plumes to white shards, eventually containing themselves inside an orange minisun. Then, for a single frame, something appeared. Foaly flicked past it, then returned. There! On Julius’s chest, right where the blur used to be. A device of some kind.
Foaly’s fingers jabbed the enlarge tool. There was a square foot metal panel secured to Julius’s chest with octo-bonds. It had been picked up by the camera for a single frame. Less than one thousandth of a second, which was why it had been missed by the investigators. On the face of the panel was a plasma screen. Someone had been communicating with the commander before he died. That someone had not wanted to be overheard, hence the audio jammer. Unfortunately, the screen was now blank, as the detonation signal which disrupted the jammer would also have disrupted the video.
But I know who it is, thought Foaly. It’s Opal Koboi, back from limbo.
But he needed proof. The centaur’s word was worth about as much to Ark Sool as a dwarf’s denial that he had passed wind.
Foaly glared at the live feed from the Argon Institute. There she was. Opal Koboi, still deep in her coma. Apparently.
How did you do it? Foaly wondered. How could you swap places with another fairy?
Plastic surgery wouldn’t do it. Surgery couldn’t change DNA. Foaly opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a piece of equipment that resembled two miniature kitchen plungers.
There was only one way to find out what was going on here. He would have to ask Opal directly.
When Foaly arrived at the institute, Dr. Argon was reluctant to allow him into Opal’s room.
“Miss Koboi is in a deep state of catatonia,” said the gnome peevishly. “Who knows what effect your devices will have on her psyche. It’s difficult, nigh impossible, to explain to a layfairy what damage intrusive stimuli may have on the recovering mind.”
Foaly whinnied. “You had no trouble letting the TV networks in. I suppose they pay better than the LEP. I do hope you are not beginning to view Opal as your personal possession, Doctor. She is a