LOS ANGELES, USA
MULCH Diggums was, in fact, outside the apartment of an Oscar-winning actress.
Of course, she didn't know he was there.
And, naturally, he was up to no good. Once a thief, always a thief.
Not that Mulch needed the money. He'd done very well out of the Artemis Fowl1 Affair. Well enough to take out a lease on a penthouse apartment in Beverly Hills. He'd stocked the apartment with a Pioneer entertainment system, a full DVD library and enough beef jerky to last a lifetime. Time for a decade of rest and relaxation2.
But life is not like that. It refuses to curl up and sit quietly in a corner. The habits of several centuries would not go away. Halfway3 through the James Bond Collection, Mulch realized that he missed the bad old days. Soon the penthouse suite's reclusive occupant was taking midnight strolls. These strolls generally ended up inside other people's homes.
Initially4 Mulch just visited, savouring the thrill of defeating sophisticated Mud Man security systems. Then he began to take trophies5. Small things — a crystal goblet6, an ashtray7, or a cat if he was peckish. But soon Mulch Diggums began to crave8 the old notoriety and his pilferings grew larger. Gold bars, goose egg diamonds, or pit bull terriers if he was really famished9.
The Oscar thing began quite by accident. He nabbed one as a curiosity on a midweek break to New York. Best original screenplay. The following morning he was front page news coast to coast. You'd think he'd ripped off a medical convoy10 instead of a gilded11 statuette. Mulch, of course, was delighted. He'd found his new nocturnal pastime.
In the next fortnight, Mulch filched12 best soundtrack and best special effects Academy Awards. The tabloids13 went crazy. They even gave him a nickname: the Grouch14, after another well-known Oscar. When Mulch read that one, his toes wriggled15 for joy. And dwarf16 toes wriggling17 are quite a sight. They are as nimble as fingers, double-jointed and the less said about the smell the better. Mulch's mission became clear. He had to assemble an entire set.
Over the next six months, the Grouch struck all across the United States. He even made a trip to Italy to collect a best foreign-language film award. He had a special cabinet made, with tinted18 glass that could be blacked out at the touch of a button. Mulch Diggums felt alive again.
Of course, every Oscar winner on the planet trebled their security, which was just the way Mulch liked it. There was no challenge in breaking into a shack19 on the beach. High rise and high-tech20. That's what the public wanted. So that's what the Grouch gave them. The papers ate it up. He was a hero. During the daylight hours, when he couldn't venture outside, Mulch busied himself writing the screenplay of his own exploits.
Tonight was a big night. The last statuette. He was going for a best actress award. And not just any old best actress. Tonight's target was the tempestuous21 Jamaican beauty, Maggie V. This year's winner for her portrayal22 of Precious, a tempestuous Jamaican beauty. Maggie V had stated publicly that if the Grouch tried anything in her apartment, he would get a lot more than he had bargained for. How could Mulch resist a challenge like that?
The building itself was easy to locate, a ten-storey block of glass and steel just off Sunset Boulevard, a midnight stroll south of Mulch's own home. So one cloudy night, the intrepid23 dwarf packed his tools, preparing to burglarize his way into the history books.
Maggie V was on the top floor. There was no question of going up the stairs, lift or shaft24. It would have to be an outside job.
In preparation for the climb, Mulch had not had anything to drink in two days. Dwarf pores are not just for sweating, they can take in moisture too. Very handy when you are trapped in a cave-in for days on end. Even if you can't get your mouth to a drink, every centimetre of skin can leech25 water from the surrounding earth. When a dwarf was thirsty, as Mulch was now, his pores opened to the size of pinholes and began to suck like crazy. This could be extremely useful if, say, you had to climb up the side of a tall building.
Mulch took off his shoes and gloves, donned a stolen LEP helmet and began to climb.
CHUTE E93
Holly26 could feel the commander's glare crisping the hairs on the back of her neck. She tried to ignore it, concentrating on not dashing the Atlantean ambassador's shuttle against the walls of the Arctic chute.
'So, all this time, you knew Mulch Diggums was alive?'
Holly nudged the starboard thruster to avoid a missile of half-melted rock. 'Not for sure. Foaly just had this theory.'
The commander wrung27 an imaginary neck. 'Foaly! Why am I not surprised?'
Artemis smirked28 from his seat in the passenger area.
'Now, you two, we need to work together as a team.'
'So tell me about Foaly's theory, Captain,' ordered Root, belting himself into the co-pilot's seat.
Holly activated30 a static wash on the shuttle's external cameras. Positive and negative charges dislodged the sheets of dust from the lenses.
'Foaly thought Mulch's death a bit suspicious, given that he was the best tunnel fairy in the business.'
'So why didn't he come to me?'
'It was just a hunch31. With respect, you know what you're like with hunches32, Commander.'
Root nodded grudgingly33. It was true, he didn't have time for hunches. It was hard evidence, or get out of my office until you've got some.
'The centaur34 did a bit of investigating in his own time. The first thing he realized was that the gold recovered was a bit light. I negotiated for the return of half the ransom35 and, by Foaly's reckoning, the cart was about two dozen bars short.'
The commander lit one of his trademark36 fungus37 cigars. He had to admit it sounded promising38: gold missing, Mulch Diggums within a hundred miles. Two and two make four.
'As you know, it's standard procedure to spray any LEP property with solinium-based tracker, including the ransom gold. So, Foaly runs a scan for solinium, and he picks up hot spots all over Los Angeles. Particularly at the Crowley Hotel in Beverly Hills. When he hacks39 into the building computer, he finds the penthouse resident is listed as one Lance Digger.'
Root's pointy ears quivered. 'Digger?'
'Exactly,' said Holly, nodding. 'A bit more than coincidence. Foaly came to me at that point, and I advised him to get some satellite photos before taking the file to you. Except ...'
'Except Mister Digger is proving very elusive40. Am I right?'
'Dead on.'
Root's colouring went from rose to tomato. 'Mulch, that rascal41. How did he do it?'
Holly shrugged42. 'We're guessing he transferred his iris-cam to some local wildlife, maybe a rabbit.Then collapsed43 the tunnel.'
'So the life signs we were reading belonged to some rabbit.'
'Exactly. In theory.'
'I'll kill him,' exclaimed Root, pounding the control panel. 'Can't this bucket go any faster?'
LOS ANGELES
Mulch scaled the building without much difficulty. There were external closed-circuit cameras, but the helmet's ion filter showed exactly where these cameras were pointed45. It was a simple matter to crawl along the blind spots.
Within an hour, the dwarf was suckered outside Maggie V's apartment on the tenth floor. The windows were triple glazed46 with a bulletproof coating. Movie stars. Paranoid, every one of them.
Naturally, there was an alarm point sitting on top of the pane44 and a motion sensor47 crouching48 on a wall like a frozen cricket. Only to be expected.
Mulch melted a hole in the glass with a bottle of dwarf rock polish, used to clean up diamonds in the mines. Humans actually cut diamonds to shine them. Imagine. Half the stone down the drain.
Next, the Grouch used the helmet's ion filter to sweep the room for the motion sensor's range. The red ion-stream revealed that the sensor was focused on the floor. No matter. Mulch intended going along the wall.
Pores still crying out for water, the dwarf crept along the partition, making maximum use of a stainless-steel shelving system that almost completely surrounded the main sitting room.
The next step was to find the actual Oscar. It could be hidden anywhere, including under Maggie V's pillow, but this room was as good a place to start as any. You never knew, he might get lucky.
Mulch activated the helmet's X-ray filter, scanning the walls for a safe. Nothing. He tried the floor; humans were getting smarter these days. There, under a fake zebra rug, a metal cuboid. Easy.
The Grouch approached the motion sensor from above, very gently twisting the neck until the gadget49 was surveying the ceiling. The floor was now safe.
Mulch dropped to the rug, testing the surface with his tactile50 toes. No pressure pads sewn into the rug's lining51. He rolled back the fake skin, revealing a hatch in the wooden floor. The joins were barely visible to the naked eye. But Mulch was an expert and his eyes weren't naked, they were aided by LEP zoom52 lenses.
He wormed a nail into the crack, flipping54 the hatch. The safe itself was a bit of a disappointment. Not even lead-lined; he could see right into the mechanism55 with the X-ray filter. A simple combination lock. Only three digits56.
Mulch turned the filter off. What was the point in breaking a see-through lock? Instead he put his ear to the door, jiggling the dial. In fifteen seconds the door was open at his feet.
The Oscar's gold plating winked57 at him. Mulch made a big mistake at that moment. He relaxed. In the Grouch's mind he was already back in his own apartment, swigging from a two-litre bottle of ice-cold water. And relaxed thieves are destined58 for prison.
Mulch neglected to check the statuette for traps, plucking it straight from the safe. If he had checked he would have realized that there was a wire attached magnetically to the base. When the Oscar was moved, a circuit was broken allowing all hell to break loose.
CHUTE E93
Holly set the auto-pilot to hover59 at three thousand metres below the surface. She slapped herself on the chest, releasing the harness, and joined the others in the rear of the shuttle.
'Two problems. Firstly, if we go any lower, we'll be picked up on the scanners, presuming they're still operating.'
'Why am I not looking forward to number two?' asked Butler.
'Secondly60, this part of the chute was retired61 when we pulled out of the Arctic.'
'Which means?'
'Which means the supply tunnels were collapsed. We have no way into the chute system without supply tunnels.'
'No problem,' declared Root. 'We blast the wall.'
Holly sighed. 'With what, Commander? This is a diplomatic craft. We don't have any cannons62.'
Butler plucked two concussor eggs from a pouch63 on his Moonbelt. 'Will these do? Foaly thought they might come in handy.'
Artemis groaned64. If he didn't know better, he'd swear the manservant was enjoying this.
LOS ANGELES
'Uh oh,' breathed Mulch.
In a matter of moments, things had gone from rosy65 to extremely dangerous. Once the security circuit was broken, a side door slid open admitting two very large German shepherds. The ultimate watchdogs. They were followed by their handler, a huge man covered in protective clothing. It looked as though he were dressed in doormats. Obviously the dogs were unstable66.
'Nice doggies,' said Mulch, slowly unbuttoning his bum-flap.
CHUTE E93
Holly nudged the flight controls, inching the shuttle closer to the chute wall.
'That's as near as we get,' she said into her helmet mike. 'Any closer and the thermals67 could flip53 us against the rock face.'
Thermals?' growled68 Root. 'You never said anything about thermals before I climbed out here.'
The commander was spread-eagled on the port wing, a concussor egg jammed down each boot.
'Sorry, Commander, someone has to fly this bird.' Root muttered under his breath, dragging himself closer to the wing-tip. While the turbulence69 was nowhere as severe as it would have been on a moving aircraft, the buffeting70 thermals were quite enough to shake the commander like dice71 in a cup. All that kept him going was the thought of his fingers tightening72 around Mulch Diggums's throat.
'Another metre,' he gasped74 into the mike. At least they had communications, the shuttle had its own local intercom. 'One more metre and I can make it.'
'No go, Commander. That's your lot.'
Root risked a peek75 into the abyss. The chute stretched on forever, winding76 down to the orange magma glow at the Earth's core. This was madness. Crazy. There must be another way. At this point, the commander would even be willing to risk an over-ground flight.
Then Julius Root had a vision. It could have been the sulphur fumes77, stress or even lack of food. But the commander could have sworn Mulch Diggums's features appeared before him, etched into the rock face. The face was sucking on a cigar and smirking78.
His determination returned in a surge. Bested by a criminal. Not likely.
Root clambered to his feet, drying sweaty palms on his jumpsuit. The thermals plucked at his limbs like mischievous79 ghosts.
'Ready to put some distance between us and this soon-to-be hole?' he shouted into the mike.
'Bet on it, Commander,' responded Holly. 'Soon as we have you back in the hold, we're out of here.'
'OK. Standby.'
Root fired the piton dart80 from his belt. The titanium head sank easily into the rock. The commander knew that tiny charges inside the dart would blow out two flanges81 securing it inside the face. Five metres. Not a great distance to swing on a piton cord. But it wasn't the swing really. It was the bone-crushing drop and the lack of handholds on the chute wall.
Come on, Julius, sniggered the Mulch edifice82. Let's see what you look like splattered against a wall.
'You shut your mouth, convict,' roared the commander. And he jumped, swinging into the void.
The rock face rushed out to meet him, knocking the breath from his lungs. Root ground his back teeth against the pain. He hoped nothing was broken, because after the Russian trip, he didn't even have enough magic left to make a daisy bloom, never mind heal a fractured rib83.
The shuttle's forward lights picked out the laser burns where the LEP tunnel dwarfs84 had sealed the supply chute. That weld line would be the weak spot. Root slotted the concussor eggs along two indents85.
'I'm coming for you, Diggums,' he muttered, crushing the capsule detonators embedded86 in each one. Thirty seconds now.
Root aimed a second piton dart at the shuttle wing. An easy shot, he made this kind of thing in his sleep in the sim-range. Unfortunately, the simulators didn't have thermals fouling87 things up at the last moment.
Just as the commander fired his dart, the edge of a particularly strong whirlpool of gas caught the shuttle's rear, spinning it forty degrees anti-clockwise. The dart missed by a metre. It spun88 into the abyss, trailing the commander's lifeline behind it. Root had two options: he could rewind the cord using his belt winch, or he could jettison89 the piton and try again with his spare. Julius unhooked the cord; it would be faster to try again. A good plan, had he not already used his spare to get them out from under the ice. The commander remembered this half a second after he'd cut loose his last piton.
'D'Arvit,' he swore, patting his belt for a dart which he knew wouldn't be there.
'Trouble, Commander?' asked Holly, her voice strained from wrestling with the controls.
'No pitons left, and the charges are set.'
There followed a brief silence. Very brief. No time for lengthy90 think-tanks. Root glanced at his moonomenter. Twenty-five seconds and counting.
When Holly's voice came over the headset, it was not bursting with enthusiasm or confidence.
'Er ... Commander. You wearing any metal?'
'Yes,' replied Root, puzzled. 'My breastplate, buckle91, insignia, blaster. Why?'
Holly nudged the shuttle a shade closer. Any nearer was suicide.
'Put it like this. How fond are you of your ribs92?'
'Why?'
'I think I know how to get you out of there.'
'How?'
'I could tell you, but you're not going to like it.'
'Tell me, Captain. That's a direct order.'
Holly told him. He didn't like it.
LOS ANGELES
Dwarf gas. Not the most tasteful of subjects; even dwarfs don't like to talk about it. Many a dwarf wife is known to scold her husband for venting93 gas at home and not leaving it in the tunnels. The fact is that, genetically94, dwarfs are prone95 to gas attacks, especially if they've been eating clay in the mine. A dwarf can take in several kilos of dirt a second through his unhinged jaws98. That's a lot of clay, with a lot of air in it. All this waste has to go somewhere. So it goes south. To put it politely, the tunnels are self-sealing.
Mulch hadn't eaten clay in months, but he still had a few bubbles of gas at his disposal when he needed them.
The dogs were poised99 to attack. Slobber hung in ribbons from their gaping100 jaws. He would be torn to pieces. Mulch concentrated. The familiar bubbling began in his stomach, pulling it out of shape. It felt as though a couple of gnome101 garbage wrestlers were going a few rounds in there. The dwarf gritted102 his teeth, this was going to be a big one.
The handler blew a football whistle. The dogs lunged forward like torpedoes103 with teeth. Mulch let go with a stream of gas, blowing a hole in the rug and propelling himself to the ceiling, where his thirsty pores anchored him. Safe. For the moment.
The German shepherds were particularly surprised. In their time they had chewed their way through most creatures in the food chain. This was something new. And not altogether pleasant.You have to remember that a dog's nose is far more sensitive than a human one.
The handler blew his whistle a few more times, but any control he might have had disappeared the moment Mulch flew through the air on a jet of recycled wind. As soon as the dogs' nasal passages cleared, they began to leap, teeth gnashing at the apex104.
Mulch swallowed. Dogs are smarter than the average goblin. It was only a matter of time before they thought to scale the furniture and make a jump from there.
Mulch made for the window, but the handler was there before him, blocking the hole with his padded body. Mulch noticed him fumbling105 with a weapon at his belt. This was getting serious. Dwarfs are many things, but bulletproof is not one of them.
To make matters worse, Maggie V appeared at the bedroom door, brandishing106 a chrome baseball bat. This was not the Maggie V the public was used to. Her face was covered with a green mask, and there appeared to be a tea bag taped under each eye.
'Now we have you, Mister Grouch,' she gloated. 'And suction pads aren't going to save you.'
Mulch realized that his career as the Grouch was over. Whether he escaped or not, the LAPD would be visiting every dwarf in the city come sunrise.
Mulch only had one card left to play. The gift of tongues. Every fairy has a natural grasp of languages, as all tongues are based on Gnommish, if you trace them back far enough. Including American Dog.
'Arf' grunted107 Mulch. 'Arf, rrruff rruff.'
The dogs froze. One attempted to freeze in mid-leap, landing on his partner. They chewed each other's tails for a moment, then remembered that there was a creature on the ceiling barking at them. His accent was terrible, something mid-European. But it was Dog nevertheless.
'Aroof?' enquired108 dog number one. 'Whaddya sayin'?'
Mulch pointed at the handler. ' Woof arfy arrooof! That human has a big bone inside his shirt,' he grunted. (Obviously, that's been translated.)
The German shepherds pounced109 on their handler, Mulch scampered110 through the hole in the window, and Maggie V howled so much that her mask cracked and her tea bags fell off. And even though the Grouch knew that this particular chapter in his career was closed, the weight of Maggie V's Academy Award inside his shirt gave him no little satisfaction.
CHUTE E93
Twenty seconds left before the concussors blew, and the commander was still flattened111 against the chute wall. They had no wing sets, and no time to get one outside even if they had. If they couldn't pull Root out of there right now, then he'd be blown off the wall and into the abyss. And.magic didn't work on melted slop. There was only one option. Holly would have to use the gripper clamps.
All shuttles are equipped with secondary landing gear. If the docking nodes fail, then four magnetic gripper clamps could be blasted from recessed112 grooves113. These clamps will latch114 on to the metal underside of the landing-bay dock, reeling the shuttle into the airlock. The grippers also came in handy in unfamiliar115 environments, where the magnets would seek out trace elements and latch on like sucker slugs.
'OK, Julius,' said Holly. 'Don't move a muscle.'
Root paled. Julius. Holly had called him Julius. That was not good.
Ten seconds.
Holly flicked116 down a small view screen. 'Release forward port docking clamp.'
A grating hum signalled the clamp's release.
The commander's image appeared in the view screen. Even from here he looked worried. Holly centred a cross hair on his chest.
'Captain Short. Are you absolutely sure about this?'
Holly ignored her superior. 'Range fifteen metres. Magnets only.'
'Holly, maybe I could jump. I could make it. I'm sure I could make it.'
Five seconds ...
'Fire port clamp.'
Six tiny charges ignited around the clamp's base, sending the metal disc rocketing from its socket117, trailed by a length of retractable118 polymer cable.
Root opened his mouth to swear, then the clamp crashed into his chest, driving every gasp73 of air from his body. Several somethings cracked.
'Reel it in,' spat119 Holly into the computer mike, simultaneously120 peeling across the chute. The commander was dragged behind like an extreme surfer.
Zero seconds. The concussors blew, sending two thousand kilograms of rubble121 careering into the void. A drop in an ocean of magma.
A minute later, the commander was strapped122 on a gurney in the Atlantean ambassador's sick bay. It hurt to breathe, but that wasn't going to stop him talking.
'Captain Short!' he rasped. 'What the hell were you thinking? I could have been killed.'
Butler ripped open Root's tunic123 to survey the damage. 'You could have been. Five more seconds and you were pulp124. It's thanks to Holly that you are still alive.'
Holly set the auto-pilot to hover and grabbed a medi-pac from the first-aid box. She crumpled125 it between her fingers to activate29 the crystals. Another of Foaly's inventions. Ice packs infused with healing crystals. No substitute for magic, but better than a hug and a kiss.
'Where does it hurt?'
Root coughed. A bloody126 string splattered his uniform. 'The general bodily area. Coupla ribs gone.'
Holly chewed her lip. She was no doctor and healing was by no means an automatic business. Things could go wrong. Holly knew a vice-captain once who had broken a leg and passed out. He woke up with one foot pointing backwards127. Not that Holly hadn't performed some tricky128 operations before. When Artemis wanted his mother's depression cured, she was in a different time zone. Holly had sent out a strong positive signal, with enough sparks in it to hang around for a few days. A sort of general pick-me-up. Anyone who even visited Fowl Manor129 for the following week should have gone away whistling.
'Holly,' groaned Root.
'O-OK,' she stammered130. 'OK.'
She laid her hands on Root's chest, sending the magic scurrying131 down her fingers. 'Heal,' she breathed.
The commander's eyes rolled back in his head. The magic was shutting him down for recuperation. Holly laid a medi-pac on the unconscious LEP officer's chest.
'Hold that,' she instructed Artemis. 'Ten minutes only. Otherwise there'll be tissue damage.'
Artemis applied132 pressure to the pack. His fingers were quickly submerged in a pool of blood. Suddenly the desire to pass a smart remark utterly133 deserted134 him. First physical exercise, then actual bodily harm. And now this. These past few days were turning out to be quite educational. He'd almost prefer to be back in St Bartleby's.
Holly returned quickly to the cockpit, panning the external cameras towards the supply tunnel.
Butler squeezed into the co-pilot's chair. 'Well,' he asked. 'What've we got?'
Holly grinned. And for a second her expression reminded the manservant of Artemis Fowl. 'We've got a big hole.'
'Good. Then let's go visit an old friend.'
Holly's thumbs hovered135 over the thrusters. 'Yes,' she said. 'Let's.'
The Atlantean shuttle disappeared into the supply tunnel faster than a carrot down Foaly's gullet. And for those who don't know, that's pretty fast.
THE CROWLEY HOTEL, BEVERLY HILLS, LOS ANGELES
Mulch made it back to his hotel undetected. Of course, this time he didn't have to scale the walls. It would have been more of a challenge than Maggie V's building. The walls here were brick, very porous136. His fingers would have leeched137 the moisture from the stone and lost their suction.
No, this time Mulch used the main foyer. And why wouldn't he? As far as the doorman was concerned, he was Lance Digger, reclusive millionaire. Short, maybe. But short and rich.
'Evening, Art,' said Mulch, saluting138 the doorman on his way to the lift.
Art peered over the marble-topped desk.
'Ah, Mister Digger, it's you,' he said, slightly puzzled. 'I thought I heard you passing below my sightline only moments ago.'
'Nope,' said Mulch, grinning. 'First time tonight.'
'Hmm. The night wind perhaps.'
'Maybe. You'd think they'd block up the holes in this building. All the rent I'm paying.'
'You would indeed,' agreed Art. Always agree with the tenants139, company policy.
Inside the mirrored lift, Mulch used a telescopic pointer to push P for penthouse. For the first few months, he had jumped to reach the button, but that was undignified behaviour for a millionaire. And besides, he was certain that Art could hear the thumping140 from the security desk.
The mirrored box rose silently, flickering141 past the floors towards the penthouse. Mulch resisted the urge to take the Academy Award out of his bag. Someone could board the lift. He contented142 himself with a long drink from a bottle of Irish spring water, the closest to fairy pure it was possible to get. As soon as he had stowed the Oscar he would run a cold bath and give his pores a drink. Otherwise he could wake up in the morning glued to the bed.
Mulch's door was key-coded. A fourteen-number sequence. Nothing like a bit of paranoia143 to keep you out of prison. Even though the LEP believed that he was dead, Mulch could never quite shake the feeling that one day Julius Root would figure it all out and come looking for him.
The apartment's decor was quite unusual, for a human dwelling144. A lot of clay, crumbling145 rock and water features. More like the inside of a cave than an exclusive Beverly Hills residence.
The northern wall appeared to be a single slab146 of black marble. Appeared to be. Closer inspection147 revealed a forty-inch flat-screen television, a DVD slot and a tinted glass pane. Mulch hefted a remote control bigger than his leg, popping the hidden cabinet with another complicated key code. Inside were three rows of Oscars. Mulch placed Maggie V's on a waiting velvet148 pad.
He wiped an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye. 'I'd like to thank the Academy,' giggled149 the dwarf.
'Very touching150,' said a voice behind him.
Mulch slammed the cabinet door shut, cracking the glass pane.
There was a human youth beside the rockery. In his apartment! The boy's appearance was strange, even by Mud Man standards. He was abnormally pale, raven-haired, slender and dressed in a school uniform that looked as though it had been dragged across two continents.
The hairs on Mulch's chin stiffened151. This boy was trouble. Dwarf hair is never wrong.
'Your alarm was amusing,' continued the boy. 'It took me several seconds to bypass it.'
Mulch knew he was in trouble then. Human police don't break into people's apartments.
'Who are you, hu ... boy?'
'I think the question here is, who are you? Are you reclusive millionaire Lance Digger? Are you the notorious Grouch? Or perhaps, as Foaly suspects, you are escaped convict Mulch Diggums?'
Mulch ran, the last vestiges152 of gas providing him with an extra burst of speed. He had no idea who this Mud Boy was, but if Foaly sent him, then he was a bounty153 hunter of one kind or another.
The dwarf raced across the sunken lounge, making for his escape route. It was the reason he'd chosen this building. In the early nineteen hundreds a wide-bore chimney had run the length of the multi- storey building. When a central-heating system had been installed in the fifties, the building contractor154 had simply packed the chute with dirt, topping it off with a seal of concrete. Mulch had smelled the vein155 of soil the second his estate agent had opened the front door. It had been a simple matter to uncover the old fireplace and chip away the concrete. Voila. Instant tunnel.
Mulch unbuttoned his bum-flap on the run. The strange youth made no attempt to follow him. Why would he? There was nowhere to go.
The dwarf spared a second for a parting shot. 'You'll never take me alive, human. Tell Foaly not to send a Mud Man to do a fairy's job.'
Oh dear, thought Artemis, rubbing his brow. Hollywood had a lot to answer for.
Mulch tore a basket of dried flowers from the fireplace and dived right in. He unhinged his jaw97 and was quickly submerged in the century-old clay. It was not really to his taste. The minerals and nutrients156 had long since dried up. Instead, the soil was infused with a hundred years of burnt refuse and tobacco ash. But it was clay nevertheless, and this was what dwarfs were born to do. Mulch felt his anxiety melt away. There wasn't a creature alive that could catch him now. This was his domain157.
The dwarf descended158 rapidly, chewing his way through the storeys. More than one wall collapsed on his way past. Mulch had a feeling that he wouldn't be getting his deposit back, even if he had been around to collect it.
In a little over a minute, Mulch had reached the basement car park. He rehinged, gave his rear-end a shake to dislodge any bubbles of gas, then tumbled through the grate. His specially96 adapted four-wheel drive was waiting for him. Fuelled up, blacked out and ready to go.
'Suckers,' gloated the dwarf, fishing the keys from a chain around his neck.
Then Captain Holly Short materialized not a metre away. 'Suckers?' she said, powering up her buzz baton159.
Mulch considered his options. The basement floor was asphalt. Asphalt was death to dwarfs, sealed up their insides like glue. There appeared to be a man mountain blocking the basement ramp160. Mulch had seen that one before in Fowl Manor. That meant the human upstairs must be the infamous161 Artemis Fowl. Captain Short was dead ahead looking none too merciful. Only one way to go. Back into the flue. Up a couple of storeys, and hide out in another apartment.
Holly grinned. 'Go on, Mulch. I dare you.' And Mulch did, he turned, launching himself back into the chimney, expecting a sharp shock in the rear-end. He was not disappointed. How could Holly miss a target like that?
CHUTE EII6, BELOW LOS ANGELES
The Los Angeles shuttle port was sixteen miles south of the city, hidden beneath the holographic projection162 of a sand dune163. Root was waiting for them in the shuttle. He had recovered just enough to crack a grin.
'Well, well,' he grunted, hauling himself off the gurney, a fresh medi-pac strapped across his ribs. 'If it isn't my favourite reprobate164, back from the dead.'
Mulch helped himself to a jar of squid pate165 from the Atlantean ambassador's personal cooler.
'Why is it, Julius, that you never pay me a social visit? After all, I did save your career back in Ireland. If it hadn't been for me, you never would have known about Fowl's copy of the Book.'
When Root was fuming166, as he was now, you could have toasted marshmallows on his cheeks.
'We had a deal, convict. You broke it. And now I'm bringing you in.'
Mulch scooped167 dollops of pate from the jar with his stubby fingers.
'Could use a little beetle168 juice,' he commented.
'Enjoy it while you can, Diggums. Because your next meal is going to be pushed through a slot in a door.'
The dwarf settled back in a padded chair. 'Comfortable.'
'I thought so,' agreed Artemis. 'Some form of liquid suspension. Expensive, I shouldn't wonder.'
'Sure beats prison shuttles,' agreed Mulch. 'I remember this one time they caught me selling a Van Gogh to aTexan. I was transported in a shuttle the size of a mouse hole. They had a troll in the next cubicle169. Stank170 something awful.'
Holly grinned. 'That's what the troll said.'
Root knew he was being goaded171, but he blew his top anyway. 'Listen to me, convict. I have not travelled all this way to listen to your war stories. So shut your trap before I shut it for you.'
Mulch was unimpressed by the outburst. 'Just out of interest, Julius, why have you travelled all this way? The great Commander Root commandeering an ambassador's shuttle just to apprehend172 little old me? I don't think so. So, what's going on? And what's with the Mud Men?' He nodded at Butler. 'Especially that one.'
The manservant grinned. 'Remember me, little man? Seems to me I owe you something.'
Mulch swallowed. He had crossed swords with Butler before. It hadn't ended well for the human. Mulch had vented173 a bowel174 full of dwarf gas directly at the manservant. Very embarrassing for a bodyguard175 of his status, not to mention painful.
For the first time Root chortled, even though it stretched his ribs. 'OK, Mulch.You're right. Something is going on. Something important.'
'I thought so. And, as usual, you need me to do your dirty work.' Mulch rubbed his rump. 'Well, assaulting me isn't going to help. You didn't have to buzz me so hard, Captain. That's going to leave a mark.'
Holly cupped a hand around one pointed ear. 'Hey, Mulch, if you listen really hard you can just about make out the sound of nobody giving a hoot176. From what I saw, you were living pretty well on LEP gold.'
'That apartment cost me a fortune, you know. The deposit alone was four years of your salary. Did you see the view? Used to belong to some movie director.'
Holly raised an eyebrow177. 'Glad to see the money was put to good use. Heaven forbid you should squander178 it.'
Mulch shrugged. 'Hey, I'm a thief. What did you expect — I'd start a shelter?'
'No, Mulch, funnily enough I didn't expect that for one second.'
Artemis cleared his throat. 'This reunion is all very touching. But while you're exchanging witticisms179, my father is freezing in the Arctic.'
The dwarf zipped up his suit. 'His father? You want me to rescue Artemis Fowl's father? In the Arctic?'There was real fear in his voice. Dwarfs hated ice almost as much as fire.
Root shook his head. 'I wish it were that simple, and in a few minutes so will you.'
Mulch's beard hairs curled in apprehension180. And as his grandmother always said, trust the hair, Mulch, trust the hair.
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fowl
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| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
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relaxation
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| n.松弛，放松；休息；消遣；娱乐 | |
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halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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initially
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| adv.最初，开始 | |
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trophies
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| n.（为竞赛获胜者颁发的）奖品( trophy的名词复数 )；奖杯；（尤指狩猎或战争中获得的）纪念品；（用于比赛或赛跑名称）奖 | |
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goblet
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| n.高脚酒杯 | |
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ashtray
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| n.烟灰缸 | |
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crave
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| vt.渴望得到，迫切需要，恳求，请求 | |
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famished
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| adj.饥饿的 | |
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convoy
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| vt.护送，护卫，护航；n.护送；护送队 | |
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gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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filched
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| v.偷（尤指小的或不贵重的物品）( filch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tabloids
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| n.小报，通俗小报（版面通常比大报小一半，文章短，图片多，经常报道名人佚事）( tabloid的名词复数 )；药片 | |
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grouch
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| n.牢骚，不满；v.抱怨 | |
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wriggled
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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dwarf
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| n.矮子，侏儒，矮小的动植物；vt.使…矮小 | |
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wriggling
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的现在分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等）；蠕蠕 | |
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18
tinted
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| adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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19
shack
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| adj.简陋的小屋，窝棚 | |
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high-tech
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| adj.高科技的 | |
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tempestuous
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| adj.狂暴的 | |
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portrayal
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| n.饰演；描画 | |
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intrepid
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| adj.无畏的，刚毅的 | |
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shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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25
leech
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| n.水蛭，吸血鬼，榨取他人利益的人；vt.以水蛭吸血；vi.依附于别人 | |
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holly
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| n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
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wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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smirked
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| v.傻笑( smirk的过去分词 ) | |
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29
activate
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| vt.使活动起来，使开始起作用 | |
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activated
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| adj. 激活的 动词activate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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hunch
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| n.预感，直觉 | |
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hunches
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| 预感，直觉( hunch的名词复数 ) | |
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33
grudgingly
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centaur
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| n.人首马身的怪物 | |
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ransom
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| n.赎金，赎身；v.赎回，解救 | |
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36
trademark
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| n.商标；特征；vt.注册的…商标 | |
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37
fungus
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| n.真菌，真菌类植物 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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39
hacks
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| 黑客 | |
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elusive
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| adj.难以表达(捉摸)的；令人困惑的；逃避的 | |
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rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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42
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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pane
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| n.窗格玻璃，长方块 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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46
glazed
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| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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sensor
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| n.传感器，探测设备，感觉器（官） | |
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48
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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49
gadget
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| n.小巧的机械，精巧的装置，小玩意儿 | |
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50
tactile
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| adj.触觉的，有触觉的，能触知的 | |
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51
lining
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| n.衬里，衬料 | |
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52
zoom
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| n.急速上升；v.突然扩大，急速上升 | |
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53
flip
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| vt.快速翻动；轻抛；轻拍；n.轻抛；adj.轻浮的 | |
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54
flipping
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| 讨厌之极的 | |
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55
mechanism
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| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
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56
digits
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| n.数字( digit的名词复数 )；手指，足趾 | |
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57
winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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58
destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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59
hover
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| vi.翱翔，盘旋；徘徊；彷徨，犹豫 | |
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60
secondly
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| adv.第二，其次 | |
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61
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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62
cannons
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| n.加农炮，大炮，火炮( cannon的名词复数 ) | |
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63
pouch
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| n.小袋，小包，囊状袋；vt.装...入袋中，用袋运输；vi.用袋送信件 | |
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64
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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65
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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66
unstable
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| adj.不稳定的，易变的 | |
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67
thermals
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| 热裂法炭黑； 上升的热气流，温暖内衣裤( thermal的名词复数 ) | |
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68
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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69
turbulence
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| n.喧嚣，狂暴，骚乱，湍流 | |
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70
buffeting
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| 振动 | |
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71
dice
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| n.骰子；vt.把（食物）切成小方块，冒险 | |
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72
tightening
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| 上紧，固定，紧密 | |
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73
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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74
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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75
peek
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| vi.偷看，窥视；n.偷偷的一看，一瞥 | |
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76
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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77
fumes
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| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
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78
smirking
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| v.傻笑( smirk的现在分词 ) | |
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79
mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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80
dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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81
flanges
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| n.（机械等的）凸缘，（火车的）轮缘( flange的名词复数 ) | |
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82
edifice
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| n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿，教室) | |
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83
rib
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| n.肋骨，肋状物 | |
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84
dwarfs
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| n.侏儒，矮子（dwarf的复数形式）vt.（使）显得矮小（dwarf的第三人称单数形式） | |
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85
indents
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| v.切割…使呈锯齿状( indent的第三人称单数 )；缩进排版 | |
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86
embedded
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| a.扎牢的 | |
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87
fouling
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| n.（水管、枪筒等中的）污垢v.使污秽( foul的现在分词 )；弄脏；击球出界；（通常用废物）弄脏 | |
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88
spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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89
jettison
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| n.投弃，投弃货物 | |
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90
lengthy
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| adj.漫长的，冗长的 | |
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91
buckle
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| n.扣子，带扣；v.把...扣住，由于压力而弯曲 | |
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92
ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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93
venting
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| 消除； 泄去； 排去； 通风 | |
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94
genetically
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| adv.遗传上 | |
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95
prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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97
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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98
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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99
poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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100
gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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101
gnome
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| n.土地神；侏儒，地精 | |
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102
gritted
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| v.以沙砾覆盖（某物），撒沙砾于( grit的过去式和过去分词 )；咬紧牙关 | |
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103
torpedoes
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| 鱼雷( torpedo的名词复数 )； 油井爆破筒； 刺客； 掼炮 | |
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104
apex
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| n.顶点，最高点 | |
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105
fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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106
brandishing
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| v.挥舞( brandish的现在分词 )；炫耀 | |
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107
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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108
enquired
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| 打听( enquire的过去式和过去分词 )； 询问； 问问题； 查问 | |
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109
pounced
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的过去式和过去分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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110
scampered
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| v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑，惊惶奔跑( scamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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111
flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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112
recessed
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| v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的过去式和过去分词 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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113
grooves
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| n.沟( groove的名词复数 )；槽；老一套；（某种）音乐节奏v.沟( groove的第三人称单数 )；槽；老一套；（某种）音乐节奏 | |
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114
latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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115
unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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116
flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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117
socket
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| n.窝，穴，孔，插座，插口 | |
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118
retractable
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| adj.可收回的；可撤消的；可缩回的；可缩进的 | |
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119
spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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120
simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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121
rubble
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| n.（一堆）碎石，瓦砾 | |
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122
strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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123
tunic
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| n.束腰外衣 | |
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124
pulp
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| n.果肉，纸浆；v.化成纸浆，除去...果肉，制成纸浆 | |
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125
crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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126
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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127
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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128
tricky
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| adj.狡猾的，奸诈的；(工作等)棘手的，微妙的 | |
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129
manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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130
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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131
scurrying
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| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的现在分词 ) | |
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132
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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133
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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134
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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135
hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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136
porous
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| adj.可渗透的，多孔的 | |
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137
leeched
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| v.用水蛭吸血（leech的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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138
saluting
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的现在分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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139
tenants
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| n.房客( tenant的名词复数 )；佃户；占用者；占有者 | |
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140
thumping
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| adj.重大的，巨大的；重击的；尺码大的；极好的adv.极端地；非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词)；狠打；怦怦地跳；全力支持 | |
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141
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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142
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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143
paranoia
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| n.妄想狂，偏执狂；多疑症 | |
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144
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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145
crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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146
slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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147
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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148
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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149
giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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150
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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151
stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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152
vestiges
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| 残余部分( vestige的名词复数 )； 遗迹； 痕迹； 毫不 | |
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153
bounty
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| n.慷慨的赠予物，奖金；慷慨，大方；施与 | |
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154
contractor
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| n.订约人，承包人，收缩肌 | |
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155
vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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156
nutrients
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| n.（食品或化学品）营养物，营养品( nutrient的名词复数 ) | |
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157
domain
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| n.(活动等)领域，范围；领地，势力范围 | |
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158
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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159
baton
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| n.乐队用指挥杖 | |
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160
ramp
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| n.暴怒，斜坡，坡道；vi.作恐吓姿势，暴怒，加速；vt.加速 | |
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161
infamous
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| adj.声名狼藉的，臭名昭著的，邪恶的 | |
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162
projection
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| n.发射，计划，突出部分 | |
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163
dune
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| n.(由风吹积而成的)沙丘 | |
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164
reprobate
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| n.无赖汉；堕落的人 | |
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165
pate
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| n.头顶；光顶 | |
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166
fuming
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| 愤怒( fume的现在分词 )； 大怒； 发怒； 冒烟 | |
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167
scooped
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| v.抢先报道( scoop的过去式和过去分词 )；（敏捷地）抱起；抢先获得；用铲[勺]等挖（洞等） | |
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168
beetle
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| n.甲虫，近视眼的人 | |
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169
cubicle
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| n.大房间中隔出的小室 | |
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170
stank
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| n. (英)坝，堰，池塘 动词stink的过去式 | |
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171
goaded
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| v.刺激( goad的过去式和过去分词 )；激励；（用尖棒）驱赶；驱使（或怂恿、刺激）某人 | |
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172
apprehend
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| vt.理解，领悟，逮捕，拘捕，忧虑 | |
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173
vented
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| 表达，发泄（感情，尤指愤怒）( vent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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174
bowel
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| n.肠(尤指人肠)；内部，深处 | |
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175
bodyguard
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| n.护卫，保镖 | |
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176
hoot
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| n.鸟叫声，汽车的喇叭声； v.使汽车鸣喇叭 | |
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177
eyebrow
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| n.眉毛，眉 | |
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178
squander
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| v.浪费，挥霍 | |
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179
witticisms
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| n.妙语，俏皮话( witticism的名词复数 ) | |
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180
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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