Artemis Fowl 7 - The Atlantis Complex by Eoin Colfer

Author:Eoin Colfer
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Fiction - Young Adult
Publisher: Disney Hyperion
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“It’s just not possible,” said Foaly, adding an equine harrumph to lend weight to a statement that

even he did not believe.

“Possible or not, we’ll have to talk about it later,” said Holly, leveling the craft to just off

horizontal. “We’re at the crash site.”

Everyone was relieved that the stolen ship had made it down in one piece. The mercenaries had

probably stripped out much of what they didn’t need, to save weight, and, more than likely, they had

been a little reckless with the crowbars as they’d gone about it. One loose rivet or cracked weld line

would have been enough to allow a few atmospheres to squirt out, and the ship would have been

crushed like a soda can in the hand of a giant who was immensely strong and didn’t like soda cans.

But the ship held its integrity in spite of an ominous rippling along the fuselage, which appeared

suddenly.

“Who cares?” said Mulch, as usual failing to see the big picture. “It’s not even our ship. What are

those mercenaries going to do, sue?” But even as he spoke, Mulch’s humor was tinged with loss.

I can never go back to The Sozzled Parrot again, he realized. And they served great curry. Real

meat too.

Outside and below, Atlantis rescue ships buzzed around the distressed shuttles, working hard to

build a pressure dome so the crews could get some magic to the injured. Sea workers in pressure exo-

armor hammered through rocks and debris on the seabed to lay a foam seal to build the dome upon.

Nobody was too concerned about the crash site itself, for the time being. The living came first.

“I should call in this Turnball Root theory,” said Holly. “Commander Kelp will act on it.”

“We have to act first,” said Artemis. “Haven won’t have its ships here for at least an hour. By then

it will be too late. We need to find evidence so that Trouble can make a case to the Council.”

Holly’s fingers hesitated over Foaly’s phone. There wasn’t time to get into a strategy discussion

with the commander. She knew Trouble’s mind well: it didn’t take that long to get to know. If she

called him now, he would suggest a strategy that involved them waiting until he arrived, and possibly

some form of bivouac.

So instead of making a vid-call, she sent a brief text highlighting Turnball Root’s name on the

passenger list they weren’t supposed to have, and switched off the phone.

“He’s bound to call back,” she explained. “I’ll switch it on again when we have something to tell

him.”

Foaly glowered at her. “I’m going to miss my crunchball league updates,” he said; then, “I know

that sounds petty, but I pay a subscription.”

Artemis was concentrating on a problem to take his mind off the wall of sparkling fours that had

followed him from his mind-screen and seemed to be hovering all around.

Not there, he told himself. Focus on the Houdini act.

“How did Turnball get out of the ship alive?” he wondered aloud. “Foaly, can we access local

CCTV?”

“Not with this ship. This was once a beautiful emergency vehicle. I helped design the model.

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