EN FIN1, KNIGHTSBRIDGE, LONDON
ARTEMIS Fowl2 was almost content. His father would be discharged from Helsinki’s University Hospital any day now. He himself was looking forward to a delicious late lunch at En Fin, a London seafood3 restaurant, and his business contact should arrive any moment. All according to plan.
His bodyguard4, Butler, was not quite so relaxed. But then again he was never truly at ease — one did not become one of the world’s deadliest men by dropping one’s guard. The giant Eurasian flitted between tables in the Knightsbridge bistro, positioning the usual security items and clearing exit routes.
‘Are you wearing the earplugs?’ he asked his employer.
Artemis sighed deeply. ‘Yes, Butler. Though I hardly think we are in danger here. It’s a perfectly5 legal business meeting in broad daylight, for heaven’s sake.’
The earplugs were actually sonic filter sponges, cannibalized from fairy Lower Elements Police helmets. Butler had obtained the helmets, along with a treasure trove6 of fairy technology, over a year previously7 when one of Artemis’s schemes pitted him against a fairy SWAT team. The sponges were grown in LEP labs, and had tiny porous8 membranes9 that sealed automatically when decibel10 levels surpassed safety standards.
‘Maybe so, Artemis, but the thing about assassins is that they like to catch you unawares.’
‘Perhaps,’ replied Artemis, perusing12 the menu’s entree13 section. ‘But who could possibly have a motive14 to kill us?’
Butler shot one of the half-dozen diners a fierce glare, just in case she was planning something. The woman must have been at least eighty.
‘They might not be after us. Remember, Jon Spiro is a powerful man. He put a lot of companies out of business. We could be caught in a crossfire15.
Artemis nodded. As usual, Butler was right, which explained why they were both still alive. Jon Spiro, the American he was meeting, was just the kind of man to attract assassins’ bullets. A successful IT billionaire, with a shady past and alleged16 mob connections. Rumour17 had it that his company, Fission18 Chips, had made it to the top on the back of stolen research. Of course, nothing was ever proved — not that Chicago’s district attorney hadn’t tried. Several times.
A waitress wandered over, giving them a dazzling smile.
‘Hello there, young man. Would you like to see the children’s menu?’
A vein19 pulsed in Artemis’s temple.
‘No, mademoiselle, I would not like to see the children’s menu. I have no doubt the children’s menu itself tastes better than the meals on it. I would like to order a la carte. Or don’t you serve fish to minors20?’
The waitress’s smile shrank by a couple of molars. Artemis’s vocabulary had that effect on most people.
Butler rolled his eyes. And Artemis wondered who would want to kill him. Most of the waiters and tailors in Europe, for a start.
‘Yes, sir,’ stammered21 the unfortunate waitress. ‘Whatever you like.’
‘What I would like is a medley22 of shark and swordfish, pan-seared, on a bed of vegetables and new potatoes.’
‘And to drink?’
‘Spring water. Irish, if you have it. And no ice, please, as your ice is no doubt made from tap water, which rather defeats the purpose of spring water.’
The waitress scurried23 to the kitchen, relieved to escape from the pale youth at table six. She’d seen a vampire24 movie once. The undead creature had the very same hypnotic stare. Maybe the kid spoke25 like a grown-up because he was actually five hundred years old.
Artemis smiled in anticipation26 of his meal, unaware11 of the consternation27 he’d caused.
‘You’re going to be a big hit at the school dances,’ Butler commented.
‘Pardon?’
‘That poor girl was almost in tears. It wouldn’t hurt you to be nice occasionally.’
Artemis was surprised. Butler rarely offered opinions on personal matters.
‘I don’t see myself at school dances, Butler.’
‘Dancing isn’t the point. It’s all about communication.’
‘Communication?’ scoffed28 young Master Fowl. ‘I doubt there is a teenager alive with a vocabulary equal to mine.’
Butler was about to point out the difference between talking and communicating when the restaurant door opened. A small tanned man entered, flanked by a veritable giant. Jon Spiro and his security.
Butler bent29 low to whisper in his charge’s ear. ‘Be careful, Artemis. I know the big one by reputation.’
Spiro wound through the tables, arms outstretched. He was a middle-aged30 American, thin as a javelin31, and barely taller than Artemis himself. In the eighties, shipping32 had been his thing; in the nineties he made a killing33 in stocks and shares. Now, it was communications.
He wore his trademark34 white linen35 suit, and there was enough jewellery hanging from his wrists and fingers to gold leaf the Taj Mahal.
Artemis rose to greet his associate. ‘Mister Spiro, welcome.’
‘Hey, little Artemis Fowl. How the hell are you?’
Artemis shook the man’s hand. His jewellery jangled like a rattlesnake’s tail.
‘I am well. Glad you could come.’
Spiro took a chair. ‘Artemis Fowl calls with a proposition: I would’ve walked across broken glass to be here.’
The bodyguards36 appraised37 each other openly. Apart from their bulk, the two were polar opposites. Butler was the epitome38 of understated efficiency. Black suit, shaven head, as inconspicuous as it was possible to be at almost seven feet tall. The newcomer had bleached39 blond hair, a cut-off T-shirt and silver pirate rings in both ears. This was not a man who wanted to be forgotten, or ignored.
‘Arno Blunt,’ said Butler. ‘I’ve heard about you.’
Blunt took up his position at Jon Spiro’s shoulder.
‘Butler. One of the Butlers,’ he said, in a New Zealand drawl. ‘I hear you guys are the best. That’s what I hear. Let’s hope we don’t have to find out.’
Spiro laughed. It sounded like a box of crickets.
‘Arno, please. We are among friends here. This is not a day for threats.’
Butler was not so sure. His soldier’s sense was buzzing like a nest of hornets at the base of his skull40. There was danger here.
‘So, my friend. To business,’ said Spiro, fixing Artemis with his close-set dark eyes. ‘I’ve been salivating all the way across the Atlantic. What have you got for me?’
Artemis frowned. He’d hoped business could wait until after lunch.
‘Wouldn’t you like to see a menu?’
‘No. I don’t eat much any more. Pills and liquids mostly. Gut41 problems.’
‘Very well,’ said Artemis, laying an aluminium42 briefcase43 on the table. ‘To business then.’
He flipped44 the case’s lid, revealing a red cube the size of a minidisc player, nestling in blue foam45.
Spiro cleaned his spectacles with the tail end of his tie.
‘What am I seeing here, kid?’
Artemis placed the shining box on the table.
‘The future, Mister Spiro. Ahead of schedule.’
Jon Spiro leaned in, taking a good look.
‘Looks like a paperweight to me.’
Arno Blunt sniggered, his eyes taunting46 Butler.
‘A demonstration47 then,’ said Artemis, picking up the metal box. He pressed a button and the gadget48 purred into life. Sections slid back to reveal speakers and a screen.
‘Cute,’ muttered Spiro. ‘I flew three thousand miles for a micro-TV?’
Artemis nodded. ‘A micro-TV. But also a verbally controlled computer, a mobile phone, a diagnostic aid. This little box can read any information on absolutely any platform, electrical or organic. It can play videos, laserdiscs, DVDs; go online, retrieve49 e-mail, hack50 any computer. It can even scan your chest to see how fast your heart’s beating. Its battery is good for two years and, of course, it’s completely wireless51.’
Artemis paused, to let it sink in.
Spiro’s eyes seemed huge behind his spectacles.
‘You mean, this box . . .?’
‘Will render all other technology obsolete52. Your computer plants will be worthless.’
The American took several deep breaths.
‘But how . . . how?’
Artemis flipped the box over. An infrared53 sensor54 pulsed gently on the back.
‘This is the secret. An omni-sensor. It can read anything you ask it to. And if the source is programmed in, it can piggyback any satellite you choose.’
Spiro wagged a finger. ‘But that’s illegal, isn’t it?’
‘No, no,’ said Artemis, smiling. ‘There are no laws against something like this. And there won’t be for at least two years after it comes out. Look how long it took to shut down Napster.’
The American rested his face in his hands. It was too much.
‘I don’t understand. This is years, no, decades ahead of anything we have now. You’re nothing but a thirteen-year-old kid. How did you do it?’
Artemis thought for a second. What was he going to say? Sixteen months ago Butler took on a Lower Elements Police Retrieval squad55 and confiscated56 their fairy technology? Then he, Artemis, had taken the components57 and built this wonderful box? Hardly.
‘Let’s just say I’m a very smart boy, Mister Spiro.’
Spiro’s eyes narrowed. ‘Maybe not as smart as you’d like us to think. I want a demonstration.’
‘Fair enough.’ Artemis nodded. ‘Do you have a mobile phone?’
‘Naturally.’ Spiro placed his mobile phone on the table. It was the latest Fission Chips model.
‘Secure, I take it?’
Spiro nodded arrogantly58. ‘Five hundred bit encryption. Best in its class. You’re not getting into the Fission 400 without a code.’
‘We shall see.’
Artemis pointed59 the sensor at the handset. The screen instantly displayed an image of the mobile phone’s workings.
‘Download?’ enquired60 a metallic61 voice from the speaker.
‘Confirm.’
In less than a second, the job was done. ‘Download complete,’ said the box, with a hint of smugness.
Spiro was aghast. ‘I don’t believe it. That system cost twenty million dollars.’
‘Worthless,’ said Artemis, showing him the screen. ‘Would you like to call home? Or maybe move some funds around? You really shouldn’t keep your bank account numbers on a sim card.’
The American thought for several moments.
‘It’s a trick,’ he pronounced finally. ‘You must’ve known about my phone. Somehow, don’t ask me how, you got access to it earlier.’
‘That is logical,’ admitted Artemis. ‘It’s what I would suspect. Name your test.’
Spiro cast his eyes around the restaurant, fingers drumming the tabletop.
‘Over there,’ he said, pointing to a video shelf above the bar. ‘Play one of those tapes.’
‘That’s it?’
‘It’ll do, for a start.’
Arno Blunt made a huge show of flicking62 through the tapes, eventually selecting one without a label. He slapped it down on the table, bouncing the engraved63 silver cutlery into the air.
Artemis resisted the urge to roll his eyes and placed the red box directly on to the tape’s surface.
An image of the cassette’s innards appeared on the tiny plasma64 screen.
‘Download?’ asked the box.
Artemis nodded. ‘Download, compensate65 and play.’
Again, the operation was completed in under a second. An old episode of an English soap crackled into life.
‘DVD quality,’ commented Artemis. ‘Regardless of the input66, the C Cube will compensate.’
‘The what?’
‘C Cube,’ repeated Artemis. ‘The name I have given my little box. A tad obvious, I admit. But appropriate. The cube that sees everything.’
Spiro snatched the video cassette. ‘Check it,’ he ordered, tossing the tape to Arno Blunt.
The bleached-blond bodyguard activated67 the bar’s TV, sliding the video into its slot. Coronation Street flickered68 across the screen. The same show. Nowhere near the same quality.
‘Convinced?’ asked Artemis.
The American tinkered with one of his many bracelets70.
‘Almost. One last test. I have a feeling that the government is monitoring me. Could you check it out?’
Artemis thought for a moment, then addressed the red box again.
‘Cube, do you read any surveillance beams concentrated on this building?’
The machine whirred for a moment. ‘The strongest ion beam is eighty kilometres due west, emanating from US satellite code number ST1132P. Registered to the Central Intelligence Agency. Estimated time of arrival, eight minutes. There are also several LEP probes connected to . . .’
Artemis hit the mute button before the Cube could continue. Obviously the computer’s fairy components could pick up Lower Elements technology too. He would have to remedy that. In the wrong hands that information would be devastating71 to fairy security.
‘What’s the matter, kid? The box was still talking. Who are the LEP?’
Artemis shrugged72. ‘No pay, no play, as you Americans say. One example is enough. The CIA no less.’
‘The CIA,’ breathed Spiro. ‘They suspect me of selling military secrets. They’ve pulled one of their birds out of orbit, just to track me.’
‘Or perhaps me,’ noted73 Artemis.
‘Perhaps you,’ agreed Spiro. ‘You’re looking more dangerous by the second.’
Arno Blunt chuckled74 derisively75.
Butler ignored it. One of them had to be professional.
Spiro cracked his knuckles76, a habit Artemis detested77.
‘We’ve got eight minutes, so let’s get down to the nitty gritty, kid. How much for the box?’
Artemis was not paying attention, distracted by the LEP information that the Cube had almost revealed. In a careless moment, he had nearly exposed his subterranean78 friends to exactly the kind of man who would exploit them.
‘I’m sorry, what did you say?’
‘I said, how much for the box?’
‘Firstly, it’s a Cube,’ corrected Artemis. ‘And secondly79, it’s not for sale.’
Jon Spiro took a deep, shuddering80 breath. ‘Not for sale? You brought me across the Atlantic to show me something you’re not going to sell me? What’s going on here?’
Butler wrapped his fingers around the handle of a pistol in his waistband. Arno Blunt’s hand disappeared behind his back. The tension cranked up another notch81.
Artemis steepled his fingers. ‘Mister Spiro. Jon. I am not a complete idiot. I realize the value of my Cube. There is not enough money in the world to pay for this particular item. Whatever you could give me, it would be worth a thousand per cent more in a week.’
‘So what’s the deal, Fowl?’ asked Spiro, through gritted82 teeth. ‘What are you offering?’
‘I’m offering you twelve months. For the right price, I’m prepared to keep my Cube off the market for a year.’
Jon Spiro toyed with his ID bracelet69. A birthday present to himself.
‘You’ll suppress the technology for a year?’
‘Correct. That should give you ample time to sell your stocks before they crash, and to use the profits to buy into Fowl Industries.’
‘There is no Fowl Industries.’
Artemis smirked83. ‘There will be.’
Butler squeezed his employer’s shoulder. It was not a good idea to bait a man like Jon Spiro.
But Spiro hadn’t even noticed the jibe84. He was too busy calculating, twisting his bracelet like a string of worry beads85.
‘Your price?’ he asked eventually.
‘Gold. One metric ton,’ replied the heir to the Fowl estate.
‘That’s a lot of gold.’
Artemis shrugged. ‘I like gold. It holds its value. And anyway, it’s a pittance86 compared to what this deal will save you.’
Spiro thought about it. At his shoulder, Arno Blunt continued staring at Butler. The Fowl bodyguard blinked freely: in the event of confrontation87, dry eyeballs would only lessen88 his advantage. Staring matches were for amateurs.
‘Let’s say I don’t like your terms,’ said Jon Spiro. ‘Let’s say I decide to take your little gadget with me right now.’
Arno Blunt’s chest puffed89 out another centimetre.
‘Even if you could take the Cube,’ said Artemis, smiling, ‘it would be of little use to you. The technology is beyond anything your engineers have ever seen.’
Spiro gave a thin, mirthless smile. ‘Oh, I’m sure they could figure it out. Even if it took a couple of years, it won’t matter to you. Not where you’re going.’
‘If I go anywhere, then the C Cube’s secrets go with me. Its every function is coded to my voice patterns. It’s quite a clever code.’
Butler bent his knees slightly, ready to spring.
‘I bet we could break that code. I got one helluva team assembled in Fission Chips.’
‘Pardon me if I am unimpressed by your “one helluva team”,’ said Artemis. ‘Thus far you have been trailing several years behind Phonetix.’
Spiro jumped to his feet. He did not like the P word. Phonetix was the only communications company whose stock was higher than Fission Chips’s.
‘OK, kid, you’ve had your fun. Now it’s my turn. I have to go now, before the satellite beam gets here. But I’m leaving Mister Blunt behind.’ He patted his bodyguard on the shoulder. ‘You know what you have to do.’
Blunt nodded. He knew. He was looking forward to it.
For the first time since the meeting began, Artemis forgot about his lunch and concentrated completely on the situation at hand. This was not going according to plan.
‘Mister Spiro. You cannot be serious. We are in a public place, surrounded by civilians90. Your man cannot hope to compete with Butler. If you persist with these ludicrous threats, I will be forced to withdraw my offer, and will release the C Cube immediately.’
Spiro placed his palms on the table. ‘Listen, kid,’ he whispered. ‘I like you. In a couple of years, you could have been just like me. But did you ever put a gun to somebody’s head and pull the trigger?’
Artemis didn’t reply.
‘No?’ grunted91 Spiro. ‘I didn’t think so. Sometimes that’s all it takes. Guts92. And you don’t have them.’
Artemis was at a loss for words. Something that had only happened twice since his fifth birthday. Butler stepped in to fill the silence. Unveiled threats were more his area.
‘Mister Spiro. Don’t try to bluff93 us. Blunt may be big, but I can snap him like a twig94. Then there’s nobody between me and you. And, take my word for it, you don’t want that.’
Spiro’s smile spread across his nicotine-stained teeth like a smear95 of treacle96.
‘Oh, I wouldn’t say there’s nobody between us.’
Butler got that sinking feeling. The one you get when there are a dozen laser sights playing across your chest. They had been set up. Somehow Spiro had outmanoeuvred Artemis.
‘Hey, Fowl?’ said the American. ‘I wonder how come your lunch is taking so long.’
It was at that moment Artemis realized just how much trouble they were in.
It all happened in a heartbeat. Spiro clicked his fingers and every single customer in En Fin drew a weapon from inside his or her coat. The eighty-year-old lady suddenly looked a lot more threatening with a revolver in her bony fist. Two armed waiters emerged from the kitchen wielding97 folding-stock machine guns. Butler never even had time to draw breath.
Spiro tipped over the salt cellar. ‘Check and mate. My game, kid.’
Artemis tried to concentrate. There must be a way out. There was always a way out. But it wouldn’t come. He had been hoodwinked. Perhaps fatally. No human had ever outsmarted Artemis Fowl. Then again, it only had to happen once.
‘I’m going now,’ continued Spiro, pocketing the C Cube, ‘before that satellite beam shows up, and those other ones. The LEP, I’ve never heard of that particular agency. And as soon as I get this gizmo working they’re going to wish they never heard of me. It’s been fun doing business with you.’
On his way to the door, Spiro winked98 at his bodyguard.
‘You got six minutes, Arno. A dream come true, eh? You get to be the guy who took out the great Butler.’ He turned back to Artemis, unable to resist a final jibe.
‘Oh, and by the way — Artemis, isn’t that a girl’s name?’ And he was gone, into the multicultural99 throngs100 of tourists on the high street.
The old lady locked the door behind him. The click echoed around the restaurant.
Artemis decided101 to take the initiative. ‘Now, ladies and gentlemen,’ he said, trying to avoid staring down the black-eyed gun barrels. ‘I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.’
‘Quiet, Artemis!’
It took a moment for Artemis’s brain to process the fact that Butler had ordered him to be silent. Most impertinently in fact.
‘I beg your pardon . . .”
Butler clamped a hand over his employer’s mouth.
‘Quiet, Artemis. These people are professionals, not to be bargained with.’
Blunt rotated his skull, cracking the tendons in his neck.
‘You got that right, Butler. We’re here to kill you. As soon as Mister Spiro got the call we started sending people in. I can’t believe you fell for it, man. You must be getting old.’
Butler couldn’t believe it either. There was a time when he would have staked out any rendezvous102 site for a week before giving it the thumbs-up. Maybe he was petting old, but there was an excellent chance he wouldn’t be getting any older.
‘OK, Blunt,’ said Butler, stretching out his empty palms before him. ‘You and me. One on one.’
‘Very noble,’ said Blunt. ‘That’s your Asian code of honour, I suppose. Me, I don’t have a code. If you think I’m going to risk you somehow getting out of here, you’re crazy. This is an uncomplicated deal. I shoot you. You die. No face-off, no duel103.’
Blunt reached lazily into his waistband. Why hurry? One move from Butler and a dozen bullets would find their mark.
Artemis’s brain seemed to have shut down. The usual stream of ideas had dried up. I’m going to die, he thought. I don’t believe it.
Butler was saying something. Artemis decided he should listen.
‘Richard of York gave battle in vain,’ said the bodyguard, enunciating clearly.
Blunt was screwing a silencer on to the muzzle104 of his ceramic105 pistol.
‘What are you saying? What kind of gibberish is that? Don’t say the great Butler is cracking up! Wait till I tell the guys.’
But the old woman looked thoughtful.
‘Richard of York . . . I know that.’
Artemis knew it too. It was virtually the entire verbal detonation106 code for the fairy sonix grenade magnetized to the underside of the table. One of Butler’s little security devices. All they needed was one more word and the grenade would explode, sending a solid wall of sound charging through the building, blowing out every window and eardrum. There would be no smoke or flames, but anyone within a ten-metre radius107 not wearing earplugs had about five seconds before severe pain set in. One more word.
The old lady scratched her head with the revolver’s barrel.
‘Richard of York? I remember now, the nuns108 taught us that in school. Richard of York gave battle in vain. It’s one of those memory tricks. The colours of the rainbow.’
Rainbow. The final word. Artemis remembered — just in time — to slacken his jaw109. If his teeth were clenched110, the sonic waves would shatter them like sugar glass.
The grenade detonated in a blast of compressed sound, instantaneously hurling111 eleven people to the furthest extremities112 of the room, until they came into contact with various walls. The lucky ones hit partitions and went straight through. The unlucky ones collided with cavity block walls. Things broke. Not the blocks.
Artemis was safe in Butler’s bear-hug. The bodyguard had anchored himself against a solid door frame, folding the flying boy into his arms. And they had several other advantages over Spiro’s assassins: their teeth were intact, they did not suffer from any compound fractures and the sonic filter sponges had sealed, saving their eardrums from perforation.
Butler surveyed the room. The assassins were all down, clutching their ears. They wouldn’t be uncrossing their eyes for several days. The manservant drew his Sig Sauer pistol from a shoulder holster.
‘Stay here,’ he commanded. ‘I’m going to check the kitchen.’
Artemis settled back into his chair, drawing several shaky breaths. All around was a chaos113 of dust and moans. But once again, Butler had saved them. All was not lost. It was even possible that they could catch Spiro before he left the country. Butler had a contact in Heathrow Security: Sid Commons, an ex-Green Beret he’d served with on bodyguard duty in Monte Carlo.
A large figure came into view, blocking out the sunlight. It was Butler, returned from his reconnoitre. Artemis breathed deeply, feelingly uncharacteristically emotional.
‘Butler,’ he began. ‘We really must talk regarding your salary . . .’
But it wasn’t Butler. It was Arno Blunt. He had something in each hand. On his left palm, two tiny cones114 of yellow foam.
‘Ear plugs,’ he spat115 through broken teeth. ‘I always wear ‘em before a fire fight. Good thing too, eh?’
In his right hand, Blunt held a silenced pistol.
‘You first,’ he said. ‘Then the ape.’
Arno Blunt cocked the gun, took aim briefly116 and fired.
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fin
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fowl
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seafood
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| n.海产食品，海味，海鲜 | |
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bodyguard
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perfectly
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trove
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previously
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porous
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| adj.可渗透的，多孔的 | |
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membranes
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| n.（动物或植物体内的）薄膜( membrane的名词复数 )；隔膜；（可起防水、防风等作用的）膜状物 | |
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decibel
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unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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perusing
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| v.读（某篇文字）( peruse的现在分词 )；（尤指）细阅；审阅；匆匆读或心不在焉地浏览（某篇文字） | |
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entree
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motive
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crossfire
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alleged
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| a.被指控的，嫌疑的 | |
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rumour
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fission
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vein
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minors
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| n.未成年人( minor的名词复数 )；副修科目；小公司；[逻辑学]小前提v.[主美国英语]副修，选修，兼修( minor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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stammered
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medley
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scurried
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vampire
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spoke
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anticipation
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consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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28
scoffed
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| 嘲笑，嘲弄( scoff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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29
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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30
middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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31
javelin
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| n.标枪，投枪 | |
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32
shipping
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| n.船运（发货，运输，乘船） | |
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33
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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34
trademark
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| n.商标；特征；vt.注册的…商标 | |
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35
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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36
bodyguards
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| n.保镖，卫士，警卫员( bodyguard的名词复数 ) | |
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37
appraised
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| v.估价( appraise的过去式和过去分词 )；估计；估量；评价 | |
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38
epitome
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| n.典型，梗概 | |
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39
bleached
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| 漂白的，晒白的，颜色变浅的 | |
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40
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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41
gut
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| n.[pl.]胆量；内脏；adj.本能的；vt.取出内脏 | |
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42
aluminium
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| n.铝 (=aluminum) | |
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43
briefcase
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| n.手提箱，公事皮包 | |
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44
flipped
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| 轻弹( flip的过去式和过去分词 )； 按（开关）； 快速翻转； 急挥 | |
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45
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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46
taunting
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| 嘲讽( taunt的现在分词 )； 嘲弄； 辱骂； 奚落 | |
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47
demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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48
gadget
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| n.小巧的机械，精巧的装置，小玩意儿 | |
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49
retrieve
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| vt.重新得到，收回；挽回，补救；检索 | |
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50
hack
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| n.劈，砍，出租马车；v.劈，砍，干咳 | |
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51
wireless
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| adj.无线的；n.无线电 | |
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52
obsolete
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| adj.已废弃的，过时的 | |
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53
infrared
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| adj./n.红外线(的) | |
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54
sensor
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| n.传感器，探测设备，感觉器（官） | |
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55
squad
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| n.班，小队，小团体；vt.把…编成班或小组 | |
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56
confiscated
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| 没收，充公( confiscate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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57
components
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| （机器、设备等的）构成要素，零件，成分； 成分( component的名词复数 )； [物理化学]组分； [数学]分量； （混合物的）组成部分 | |
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58
arrogantly
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| adv.傲慢地 | |
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59
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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60
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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61
metallic
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| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
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62
flicking
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的现在分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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63
engraved
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| v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的过去式和过去分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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64
plasma
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| n.血浆，细胞质，乳清 | |
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65
compensate
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| vt.补偿，赔偿；酬报 vi.弥补；补偿；抵消 | |
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66
input
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| n.输入(物)；投入；vt.把(数据等)输入计算机 | |
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67
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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68
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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69
bracelet
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| n.手镯，臂镯 | |
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70
bracelets
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| n.手镯，臂镯( bracelet的名词复数 ) | |
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71
devastating
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| adj.毁灭性的，令人震惊的，强有力的 | |
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72
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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73
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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74
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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75
derisively
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| adv. 嘲笑地，嘲弄地 | |
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76
knuckles
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| n.（指人）指关节( knuckle的名词复数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝v.（指人）指关节( knuckle的第三人称单数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝 | |
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77
detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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78
subterranean
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| adj.地下的，地表下的 | |
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79
secondly
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| adv.第二，其次 | |
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80
shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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81
notch
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| n.(V字形)槽口，缺口，等级 | |
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82
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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83
smirked
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| v.傻笑( smirk的过去分词 ) | |
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84
jibe
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| v.嘲笑，与...一致，使转向；n.嘲笑，嘲弄 | |
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85
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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86
pittance
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| n.微薄的薪水，少量 | |
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87
confrontation
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| n.对抗，对峙，冲突 | |
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88
lessen
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| vt.减少，减轻；缩小 | |
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89
puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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90
civilians
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| 平民，百姓( civilian的名词复数 )； 老百姓 | |
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91
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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92
guts
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| v.狼吞虎咽，贪婪地吃，飞碟游戏（比赛双方每组5人，相距15码，互相掷接飞碟）；毁坏（建筑物等）的内部( gut的第三人称单数 )；取出…的内脏n.勇气( gut的名词复数 )；内脏；消化道的下段；肠 | |
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93
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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94
twig
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| n.小树枝，嫩枝；v.理解 | |
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95
smear
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| v.涂抹；诽谤，玷污；n.污点；诽谤，污蔑 | |
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96
treacle
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| n.糖蜜 | |
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97
wielding
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| 手持着使用（武器、工具等）( wield的现在分词 )； 具有； 运用（权力）； 施加（影响） | |
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98
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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99
multicultural
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| adj.融合多种文化的，多种文化的 | |
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100
throngs
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| n.人群( throng的名词复数 )v.成群，挤满( throng的第三人称单数 ) | |
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101
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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102
rendezvous
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| n.约会，约会地点，汇合点；vi.汇合，集合；vt.使汇合，使在汇合地点相遇 | |
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103
duel
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| n./v.决斗；(双方的)斗争 | |
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104
muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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105
ceramic
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| n.制陶业，陶器，陶瓷工艺 | |
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106
detonation
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| n.爆炸；巨响 | |
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107
radius
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| n.半径，半径范围；有效航程，范围，界限 | |
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108
nuns
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| n.（通常指基督教的）修女， （佛教的）尼姑( nun的名词复数 ) | |
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109
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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110
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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111
hurling
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| n.爱尔兰式曲棍球v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的现在分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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112
extremities
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| n.端点( extremity的名词复数 )；尽头；手和足；极窘迫的境地 | |
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113
chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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114
cones
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| n.（人眼）圆锥细胞；圆锥体( cone的名词复数 )；球果；圆锥形东西；（盛冰淇淋的）锥形蛋卷筒 | |
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115
spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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116
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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