Artemis Fowl and the Atlantis Complex Read Free

auburn fringe, which Holly had grown out from her usual crew cut.
    “Fifteen years old today,” muttered Artemis. “Three fives. That’s a good thing.”
    Holly blinked.
    Artemis Fowl muttering? And no mention of her new hairstyle— usually Artemis picked up on physical changes straight away.
    “I . . . ah . . . I suppose so. Where’s Butler? Scouting the perimeter?”
    “No. No, I sent him away. Juliet needed him.”
    “Nothing too serious?”
    “Not serious but necessary. Family business. He trusts you to look after me.”
    Holly’s lips tightened as though she had tasted something sour.
    “He trusts somebody else to shepherd his principal? Are you sure this is Butler we’re talking about?”
    “Of course. And anyway, it’s better that he’s not here. Whenever my plans go awry, he’s close at hand. It’s vital, imperative , that this meeting go ahead and that nothing goes wrong.”
    Holly’s jaw actually dropped in shock. It was almost comical to see. If she understood Artemis correctly, he was blaming Butler for the failure of previous schemes. Butler? His staunchest ally?
    “Good idea. Let’s go ahead, then. The four of us should get this show on the road.”
    This from Foaly, who had spoken the dreaded number with no thought for the consequences.
    Four. Very bad number. The absolute worst. Chinese people hate the number four because it sounds like their word for death.
    Almost worse than saying the number four was the fact that there were only four people in the room. Commander Trouble Kelp had apparently not been able to make it. In spite of their historic dislike for each other, Artemis wished the commander were here now.
    “Where is Commander Kelp, Holly? I thought he was attending today. We could use the protection.”
    Holly stood at the table, ramrod straight in her blue jumpsuit, acorn cluster glittering on her chest.
    “Trouble . . . Commander Kelp has enough to deal with in Police Plaza, but don’t worry. There’s an entire squadron of LEPtactical hovering overhead in a shielded shuttle. Not even a snow fox could make it in here without a singed tail.”
    Artemis shucked off his snow jacket and gloves. “Thank you, Captain. I am encouraged by your thoroughness. As a matter of interest, how many fairies are there in an LEP squadron? Exactly?”
    “Fourteen,” replied Holly, one jagged eyebrow raised.
    “Fourteen. Hmm. That is not so . . .” Then a lightbulb moment. “And a pilot, I presume?”
    “Fourteen including the pilot. That’s enough to take on any human squadron you care to throw at them.”
    For a moment it seemed as though Artemis Fowl would turn around and flee the meeting that he himself had requested. A tendon tugged at his neck, and one forefinger tapped the chair’s wooden headrest. Then Artemis swallowed and nodded with a nervousness that escaped from him like a canary from a cat’s mouth before being swallowed back down.
    “Very well. Fourteen will have to do. Please, Holly, sit. Let me tell you about the project.”
    Holly backed up slowly, searching Artemis’s face for the cockiness that usually dwelled in his smirk lines. It was not there.
    Whatever this project is, she thought, it’s big .
    Artemis placed his case on the table, popped it open, and spun the lid to reveal a screen inside. For a moment his delight in gadgetry surfaced, and he even managed a faint grin in Foaly’s direction. The grin stretched his lips no more than an inch.
    “Look. You’ll like this little box.”
    Foaly snickered. “Oh my stars! Is that . . . could that possibly be . . . a laptop? You have shamed us all with your brilliance, Arty.”
    The centaur’s sarcasm drew groans from everyone.
    “What?” he protested. “It’s a laptop. Even humans can’t expect anyone to be impressed by a laptop.”
    “If I know Artemis,” said Holly, “something impressive is about to happen. Am I right?”
    “You may judge for yourself,” said Artemis, pressing his thumb against a