by Eoin Colfer
‘Go down, perhaps. But did you see him die? If I remember the sequence of events correctly, after you shot Butler, he shot you.’
Blunt touched the sutures on his temple. ‘A lucky shot.’
‘Lucky? Butler is a proud marksman. I wouldn’t say that to his face.’
Spiro laughed delightedly. ‘The kid is messing with your mind, Arno. Thirteen years old and he’s playing you like a grand piano in Carnegie Hall. Get yourself a spine, man; you’re supposed to be a professional.’
Blunt tried to pull himself together, but the ghost of Butler haunted his features.
Spiro plucked the C Cube from its cushion. ‘This is fun, Arty. All this tough talk and repartee, but it doesn’t mean anything. I win again; you’ve been outflanked. This has all been a game to me. Amusement. Your little operation has been most educational, if pathetic. But you gotta realize that it’s over now. You’re on your own, and I don’t have time for any more games!’
Artemis sighed, the picture of defeat. ‘All of this has been a lesson, hasn’t it? Just to show me who’s boss.’
‘Exactly. It takes some people a while to learn. I find the smarter the enemy, the bigger the ego. You had to realize that you were no match for me before you would do what I asked.’ Spiro placed a bony hand on the Irish boy’s shoulder. Artemis could feel the weight of his jewellery.
‘Now listen carefully, kid. I want you to unlock this Cube. No more blarney. I never met a computer nerd yet who didn’t leave himself a back door. You open this baby up now, or I’m gonna stop being amused, and, believe me, you don’t want that.’
Artemis took the red Cube in both hands, staring at its flat screen.
This was the delicate phase of his plan. Spiro had to believe that once again he had outmanoeuvred Artemis Fowl.
‘Do it, Arty. Do it now.’
Artemis ran a hand across his dry lips.
‘Very well. I need a minute.’
Spiro patted his shoulder. ‘I’m a generous man. Take two.’ He nodded at Blunt. ‘Stay close, Arno. I don’t want our little friend setting any more booby traps.’
Artemis sat at the stainless-steel table, exposing the Cube’s inner workings. He quickly manipulated a complicated bunch of fibre optics, removing one strand altogether. The LEP blocker. After less than a minute he resealed the Cube.
Spiro’s eyes were wide with anticipation, and dreams of unlimited wealth danced in his brain.
‘Good news, Arty. I want good news only.’
Artemis was more subdued now, as if the reality of his situation had finally eaten through his cockiness.
‘I rebooted it. It’s working. Except. .’
Spiro waved his hands. Bracelets jingled like cat bells. ‘Except! This better be an itty bitty except kinda thing.’
‘It’s nothing. Hardly worth mentioning. I had to revert to version 1.0; version 1.2 was coded strictly to my voice patterns. 1.0 is less secure, if a bit more temperamental.’
‘Temperamental. You’re a box, not my grandmother, Cube.’
‘I am not a box!’ said Foaly, the Cube’s new voice, thanks to the removed blocker. ‘I am a marvel of artificial intelligence. I live therefore I learn.’
‘See what I mean?’ said Artemis weakly. The centaur was going to blow it. Spiro’s suspicions must not be aroused at this stage.
Spiro glared at the Cube, as though it were an underling.
‘Are you gonna give me attitude, mister?’
The Cube did not reply.
‘You have to address it by name,’ explained Artemis. ‘Otherwise it would answer every question within hearing distance of its sensors.’
‘And what is its name?’
Juliet often used the term ‘duh’. Artemis would not use such colloquialisms himself, but it would be apt at this particular moment.
‘Its name is Cube.’
‘OK, Cube. Are you going to give me attitude?’
‘I will give you whatever is in my processor’s capacity to give.’
Spiro rubbed his palms with childish glee, jewellery flashing like ripples in a sunset sea.
‘OK, let’s try this baby out. Cube, can you tell me — are there any satellites monitoring the building?’
Foaly was silent for a moment. Artemis could imagine him calling up his Sat-track information on a screen.
‘Just one at the moment, though, judging from the ion trails, this building has been hit with more rays than the Millennium Falcon.’
Spiro shot Artemis a glance.
‘His personality chip is faulty,’ explained the boy. ‘That’s why I discontinued him, it. We can fix that at any time.’
Spiro nodded. He didn’t want his very own technological genie growing the personality of a gorilla.
‘What about that group, the LEP, Cube?’ he asked. ‘They were monitoring me in London. Are they watching?’
‘The LEP? That’s a Lebanese satellite TV network,’ said Foaly, following Artemis’s instructions. ‘Game shows mostly. Their footprint doesn’t reach this far.’
‘OK, forget about them, Cube. I need to know that satellite’s serial number.’
Foaly consulted a screen.
‘Ah. . Let me see. US, registered to the federal government. Number ST1147P.’
Spiro clenched both fists. ‘Yes! Correct. I happen to already have that information myself. Cube, you have passed my test.’
The billionaire danced around the laboratory, reduced to childish displays by his greed.
‘I’m telling you, Arty, this has taken years off me! I feel like putting on a tuxedo and going to the prom.’
‘Indeed.’
‘I don’t know where to start. Should I make my own money? Or should I rip off somebody else’s?’
Artemis forced a smile. ‘The world is your oyster.’
Spiro patted the Cube gently. ‘Exactly. That’s exactly what it is. And I’m going to take every pearl it has to offer.’
Pex and Chips arrived at the vault door, guns drawn.
‘Mister Spiro!’ stammered Pex. ‘Is this some kind of drill?’
Spiro laughed. ‘Oh, look. Here comes the cavalry. An eternity too late. No, this is not a drill. And I would dearly love to know how little Artemis here got past you two!’
The hired muscle stared at Artemis as though he had just appeared from nowhere. Which, for their mesmerized brains, he had.
‘We don’t know, Mister Spiro. We never saw him. Do you want us to take him outside for a little accident?’
Spiro laughed, a short nasty bark. ‘I gotta new word for you two dumb-bells. Expendable. You are and he isn’t, just yet. Get it? So just stand there and look dangerous, otherwise I may replace you with two shaved gorillas.’
Spiro gazed into the Cube’s screen, as though there were nobody else in the room. ‘I reckon I’ve got twenty years left in me. After that the world can go to hell as far as I’m concerned. I don’t have any family, no heirs. There’s no need to build for the future. I’m going to suck this planet dry, and with this Cube I can do whatever I want to whoever I want.’
‘I know the first thing I’d do,’ said Pex. His eyes seemed surprised that the words were coming out of his mouth.
Spiro froze. He wasn’t used to being interrupted in mid-rant.
‘What would you do, dumb-bell?’ he said. ‘Buy yourself a booth at Merv’s Rib ‘n’ Roast?’
‘No,’ said Pex. ‘I’d stick it to those Phonetix guys. They’ve been rubbing Spiro Industries’ nose in it for years.’
It was an electric moment. Not only because Pex had actually had an idea, but because it was actually a good one.
The notion lit a thoughtful spark in Spiro’s eyes.
‘Phonetix. My biggest competitors. I hate those guys. Nothing would give me greater satisfaction than to destroy that bunch of second-rate phone freaks. But how?’
Now it was Chips’ turn. ‘I hear they’re working on a new top-secret communicator. Super-life battery, or something.’
‘Cube,’ said Spiro, ‘I want you to access the Phonetix database.
Copy the schematics for all their projects in development.’
‘No can do, boss man. Phonetix is operating on a closed system. No Internet connection whatsoever in its R & D department. I have to be on-site.’
Spiro’s euphoria disappeared. He rounded on Artemis.
‘What is he talking about?’
Artemis coughed, clearing his throat. ‘The Cube cannot scan a closed system unless the omni-sensor is actually touching the computer or, at least, close by. Phonetix is so paranoid about hackers that the research and development lab is completely contained, buried under several floors of solid rock. They don’t even have e-mail. I know because
I’ve tried to hack it myself a few times.’
‘But the Cube scanned the satellite, didn’t it?’
‘The satellite is broadcasting. And if it’s broadcasting, the Cube can trace it.’
Spiro toyed with the links of his ID chain. ‘So, I’d have to go to Phonetix.’
‘I wouldn’t recommend it,’ said Artemis. ‘It’s a lot to risk for the sake of a personal vendetta.’
Blunt stepped forward. ‘Let me go, Mister Spiro. I’ll get those plans.’
Spiro chewed on a handful of vitamin supplements from a dispenser on his belt.
‘It’s a nice idea, Arno. Good work. But I am reluctant to hand control of the Cube over to anyone else. Who knows what temptation they might yield to? Cube, can you disable the Phonetix alarm system?’
‘Can a dwarf blow a hole in his pants?’
‘What was that?’
‘Eh. . Nothing. Technical term. You wouldn’t understand it. I have already disabled the Phonetix system.’
‘What about the guards, Cube? Can you disable them?’
‘No problemo. I could remote-activate the internal security measure.’
‘Which is?’
‘Tanks of vapour inside the air vents. Sleeping gas. Illegal, by the way, according to Chicago State Law. But clever, no after-effects, untraceable. The intruder comes to in lock-up two hours later.’
Spiro cackled. ‘Those paranoid Phonetix boys. Go ahead, Cube, knock ‘em out.’
‘Night night,’ said Foaly, with a glee that seemed all too real.
‘Good. Now, Cube, all that stands between us and the Phonetix blueprints is an encrypted computer.’
‘Don’t make me laugh. They haven’t invented a unit of time short enough to measure how long it will take me to crack the Phonetix hard disk.’
Spiro clipped the Cube on to his belt. ‘You know something? I’m starting to like this guy.’
Artemis made one last sincere-sounding attempt to contain the situation. ‘Mister Spiro, I really don’t think that this is a good idea.’
‘Of course you don’t,’ laughed Jon Spiro, jangling towards the door.
‘That’s why I’m bringing you along.’
PHONETIX RESEARCH & DEVELOPMENT LABORATORIES, CHICAGO’S INDUSTRIAL SECTOR
Spiro selected a Lincoln Town Car from his extensive garage. It was a nineties model, with fake registration. He often used it as a getaway vehicle. It was old enough to be unremarkable, and even if the police did get a shot of the plates, it wouldn’t lead them anywhere.
Blunt parked opposite the Phonetix R & D lab’s main entrance. A security guard was visible at his desk behind the glass revolving door.
Arno pulled a pair of fold-up binoculars from the glove compartment. He focused on the guard.
‘Sleeping like a baby,’ he announced.
Spiro clapped him on the shoulder.
‘Good. We have less than two hours. Can we do it?’
‘If this Cube is as good as it says it is, then we can be in and out in fifteen minutes.’
‘It’s a machine,’ said Artemis coldly. ‘Not one of your steroid-munching associates.’
Blunt glanced over his shoulder. Artemis sat in the back seat, squashed between Pex and Chips.
‘You’re very brave all of a sudden.’
Artemis shrugged. ‘What have I got to lose? After all, things can hardly get worse.’
There was a normal door beside the revolving one. The Cube remote-activated the buzzer, admitting the band of intruders to the lobby.
No alarms sounded, and no platoon of security guards came rushing to detain them.
Spiro strode down the corridor, emboldened by his new-found technological friend and the thought of finally putting Phonetix out of business. The security lift put up no more resistance to the Cube than a picket fence would to a tank, and soon Spiro and Co. were riding the eight floors down to the sunken laboratory.
‘We’re going underground,’ chortled Pex. ‘Down where the dinosaur bones are. Did you know that after a million billion years dinosaur dung turns into diamonds?’
Usually a comment like that would have been a shootable offence,
but Spiro was in a good mood.
‘No, I didn’t know that, Pex. Maybe I should pay your wages in dung.’
Pex decided that it would be better for his finances if he just kept his mouth shut from then on.
The lab itself was protected by a thumbprint scanner. Not even gel.
It was a simple matter for the Cube to scan the fingerprint on the plate then project it back on to the sensor. There wasn’t even a key-code back-up.
‘Easy,’ crowed Spiro. ‘I should have done this years ago.’
‘A little credit would be nice,’ said Foaly, unable to hide his pique.
‘After all, I did get us in here and disable the guards.’
Spiro held the box before him. ‘Not crushing you into scrap metal, Cube, is my way of saying thank you.’
‘You’re welcome,’ grumbled Foaly.
Arno Blunt checked the security monitor bank. Throughout the facility, guards lay unconscious, one with half a rye sandwich stuffed in his mouth.
‘I gotta admit it, Mister Spiro. This is beautiful. Phonetix is even gonna have to foot the bill for the sleeping gas.’
Spiro glanced towards the ceiling. Several camera lights winked red in the shadows.
‘Cube, are we gonna have to raid the video room on our way out?’
‘It ain’t gonna happen,’ said Foaly, the method actor. ‘I wiped your patterns from the video.’
Artemis was suspended by the armpits between Pex and Chips.
‘Traitor,’ he muttered. ‘I gave you life, Cube. I am your creator.’
‘Yeah, well, maybe you made me too much like you, Fowl, aurum potestas est. Gold is power. I’m just doing what you taught me.’
Spiro patted the Cube fondly. ‘I love this guy. He’s like the brother I never had.’
‘I thought you had a brother?’ said Chips, puzzled, which was not unusual for him.
‘OK,’ said Spiro. ‘He’s like a brother I actually like.’
The Phonetix server was located in the centre of the lab. A monolithic hard drive, with python-like cables rippling out to various workstations.
Spiro undipped his new best friend from his belt.
‘Where do you need to be, Cube?’
‘Just pop me down on the lid of the server, and my omni-sensor will do the rest.’
Spiro complied and, in seconds, schematics were flickering across the C Cube’s tiny screen.
‘I have them,’ crowed Spiro, his hands two fists of triumph. ‘That’s the last snide e-mail with stock prices I get from these guys.’
‘Download complete,’ said Foaly smugly. ‘We have every Phonetix project for the next decade.’
Spiro cradled the Cube against his chest.
‘Beautiful. I can launch our version of the Phonetix phone before they do, make myself a few extra million before I release the Cube.’
Arno’s attention was focused on the security monitors.
‘Eh, Mister Spi
ro. I think we have a situation here.’
‘A situation?’ growled Spiro. ‘What does that mean? You’re not a soldier any more, Blunt. Speak English.’
The New Zealander tapped a screen as if that would change what he was seeing.
‘I mean, we have a problem. A big problem.’
Spiro grabbed Artemis by the shoulders.
‘What have you done, Fowl? Is this some kind of. .?’
The accusation died before it could be completed. Spiro had noticed something.
‘Your eyes. What’s wrong with your eyes? They don’t match.’
Artemis treated him to his best vampire smile.
‘All the better to see you with, Spiro.’
In the Phonetix lobby, the sleeping security guard suddenly regained her senses. It was Juliet. She peeped out from under the brim of a borrowed cap to make sure Spiro had not left anyone in the corridor.
Following Artemis’s capture in Spiro’s vault, Holly had flown them both to Phonetix to initiate Plan B.
Of course, there had been no sleeping gas. For that matter there had only been two guards. One was taking a restroom break and the other was doing the rounds of the upper floors. Still, Spiro wasn’t to know that. He was busy watching Foaly’s family of sim security snoring all over the building, thanks to a video clip on the Phonetix system.
Juliet lifted the desk phone and dialled three numbers.
9. . 1. . 1
Spiro reached two fingers delicately into Artemis’s eye, plucking out the iris-cam. He studied it closely, noting the microcircuitry on the concave side.
‘This is electronic,’ he whispered. ‘Amazing. What is it?’
Artemis blinked a tear from his eye. ‘It’s nothing. It was never here. Just as I was never here.’
Spiro’s face twisted in sheer hatred. ‘You were here all right, Fowl, and you’ll never leave here.’
Blunt tapped his employer on the shoulder. An act of unforgivable familiarity.
‘Boss, Mister Spiro. You really need to see this.’
***
Juliet stripped off her Phonetix Security jacket. Underneath she wore a Chicago PD SWAT uniform. Things could get hairy in the R&D Lab, and it was her job to make sure that Artemis did not get hurt. She hid behind a pillar in the lobby and waited for the sirens.
