“This is not what we are about, people,” he thundered. “We did not travel all this way for some petty verbal sparring.
This
is what the Extinctionists are about.” Kronski pointed a rigid finger at Holly. “Ridding our planet of creatures like this.”
Kronski shot a sideways glance at Pasteur, who was leaning chin on hands, a bemused look on his face. Standard opposition behavior.
“We have a new species here, friends. A
dangerous
species. It can make itself invisible, it can hypnotize through speech. It was
armed
.”
And to much oohing from the crowd, Kronski drew forth Holly’s Neutrino handgun from his pocket.
“Do any of us wish to face a future where this could be pointed in our faces? Do we? The answer, I think, is clearly no. Now, I’m not going to pretend that this is the last one of its kind. I feel certain that there are thousands of these fairies, or aliens, or whatever, all around us. But does that mean we should grovel and release this little creature? I say no. I say we send a message. Execute one, and the rest will know we mean business. The governments of the world despise us now, but tomorrow they will come banging down our door for guidance.”
Time for the big finish
. “We are Extinctionists, and our time is now!”
It was a good speech and drew wave after wave of applause, which Pasteur rode out with the same bemused expression.
Kronski accepted the applause with a boxer’s rolling of the shoulders, then nodded toward the opposite podium.
“The floor is yours, boy.”
Pasteur straightened and cleared his throat . . .
. . . Artemis straightened and cleared his throat. The fake beard glued to his chin itched like crazy, but he resisted the impulse to scratch it. In a fair arena he would destroy Kronski’s arguments in about five seconds, but this was not a fair arena, or even a sane one. These people were bloodthirsty, jaded billionaires, using their money to buy illicit excitement. Murder was just another service that could be purchased. He needed to handle this crowd carefully. Push the right buttons. First of all he had to establish himself as one of them.
“When I was young, and the family wintered in South Africa, my grandfather would tell me stories of a time when people had the right attitude toward animals. ‘We kill ’em when it suits us,’ he said to me. ‘When it serves our purposes.’ This is what the Extinctionists used to be about. A species was not
protected
unless we humans benefited from its survival. We kill when it
benefits
us. If an animal is using the planet’s resources and not directly contributing to our health, safety, and comfort, we wipe it out. Simple as that. This was an ideal worth fighting for. Worth killing for. But this . . .” Artemis pointed at the pit below him and Holly in her cage. “This is a circus. This is an insult to the memory of our ancestors who gave their time and gold to the Extinctionists’ cause.”
Artemis worked hard on his eye contact, connecting with as many people as possible in the audience, lingering for a moment with each one.
“We have an opportunity to learn from this creature. We owe it to our predecessors to find out if she can contribute to our coffers. If this is, in reality, a fairy, then who knows what magic it possesses? Magic that could be yours. If we kill this
fairy
, we will never know what unimaginable wealth dies with it.”
Artemis bowed. He had made his point. It would not be enough to sway the bloodthirsty Extinctionists, he knew, but it might be enough to make Kronski feel a little less cocky.
The doctor was waving his hands before the echo of Artemis’s voice had faded.
“How many times must we listen to this argument?” he wondered. “Master Pasteur accuses me of repeating myself, while he repeats the tired argument of every defense counsel we have ever listened to.” Kronski tapped his lips in horror. “Ooh, let us not kill the creature, for it is potentially the source of all our power and wealth. I remember spending a fortune on a sea slug that was supposed to cure arthritis. All we got was very expensive goo. This is all supposition.”
“But this creature is magical,” objected Artemis, banging the podium with his fist. “We have all heard how she can turn invisible. Even now her mouth is taped so she cannot hypnotize us. Imagine the power we could wield if we were to unlock the secrets of these gifts. If nothing else, they would better prepare us to deal with the rest of her kind.”
Kronski’s main problem was that he agreed with much of his opposition’s argument. It made perfect sense to save the creature and tease her secrets from her, but he could not afford to lose this argument. If he did, he might as well hand over the leadership.
“We have tried to interrogate her. Our best men tried, and she told us nothing.”
“It is difficult to talk with a taped mouth,” Artemis noted drily.
Kronski drew himself to his full height, lowering the timbre of his voice for effect. “The human race faces its most deadly enemy, and you want to cozy up to it. That is not how we Extinctionists do things. If there is a threat, we wipe it out. That is how it has always been.”
This brought a roar of approval from the crowd; bloodlust trumps logic every time. Several members were on their feet, hollering. They’d had enough of the argument and wanted some action.
Kronski’s face was flushed with victory.
He thinks it’s over, thought Artemis. Poor man. And then:
This beard really itches
.
He waited calmly until the furor had trailed away, then came out from behind the podium. “I was hoping to spare you this, Doctor,” he said. “Because I respect you so much.”
Kronski flapped his lips. “Spare me what, Master Pasteur?”
“You know what. I think you have pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes long enough.”
Kronski was not in the least worried. The boy was beaten and everything else was was just irritating chatter. Still, why not let Pasteur dig a hole for himself?
“And what wool would that be?”
“Are you certain you want me to continue?”
Kronski’s teeth glittered when he smiled. “Oh, absolutely certain.”
“As you wish,” said Artemis, approaching the dock. “This creature was not our original defendant. Up until yesterday we had a lemur. Not quite a monkey, Mr. Coontz-Meyers, but close enough. I say we had a lemur, but in truth we
almost
had a lemur. It went missing at the pickup. Then, and this is important, then we were sold this creature by the
same
boy who sold us the lemur, undoubtedly paid for from Extinctionists’ funds. Does anyone else think this is a little off? I do. This boy keeps his lemur and sells us a supposed fairy.”
Kronski was not so cocky now. This Pasteur fellow had a lot of information.
“
Supposed
fairy?”
“That’s right. Supposed. We have only your word for it, and of course that of Mr. Kirkenhazard, who apparently is your worst enemy. Nobody is falling for that ruse, I assure you.”
“Examine the thing yourself,” blurted Kronski, glossing over the Kirkenhazard accusation. “This is an easy argument to win.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” said Artemis. “I believe I shall.”
Artemis approached the cage. This was the tricky part, as it required sleight of hand and coordination, which were the elements in every plan that he usually left to Butler.
His pocket bulged slightly with a couple of adhesive nu-skin bandages taken from Mulch’s medi-kit. He had told the security guard that they were nicotine patches and so had been allowed to bring them through to the banquet. The bandage adhesive was activated by skin contact, and it molded itself to the contours it was applied to, assuming the color and texture of the surrounding skin.
Artemis’s fingers hovered over his pocket, but it was not yet time to touch a bandage. It would simply stick to his own hand. Instead he reached into his other pocket for the phone he had stolen from the Bentley, back at Rathdown Park.
“This phone is invaluable to me,” he told the Extinctionists. “It’s a little bulkier than other phones, but that is because I have been installing add-ons for years. This phone is an amazing thing, really. I can stream television, watch movies, check my stocks, all the standard stuff. But I also have an X-ray camera and display. Just give me a second.” Artemis pressed a few buttons, linking the phone by Bluetooth to the laptops, and from there to the large view screen.
“Ah, here we are,” Artemis said, passing the phone in front of his hand. On screen an arrangement of phalanges, metacarpals, and carpals stood out darkly inside a pale foam of flesh. “You see the bones of my hand quite clearly. This is a very good projection system you have, Dr. Kronski. I congratulate you.”
Kronski’s smile was as fake as the congratulations had been.
“Do you have a point, Pasteur, or are you just showing us how clever you are?”
“Oh, I have a point, Doctor. And that point is, that were it not for the width of the brow and the pointed ears, this creature seems remarkably like a little girl.”
Kronski snorted. “A pity about the ears and brow. But for them you would have an argument.”
“Precisely,” said Artemis, and passed the phone before Holly’s face. On screen, he played a short movie file he had constructed back in the shuttle. It showed Holly’s skull with dark, dense shapes on her temples and ears.
“Implants,” crowed Artemis. “Clearly the result of surgery. This
fairy
is a clever fake. You have tried to dupe us, Kronski.”
Kronski’s denials were lost in the roar of the crowd. The Extinctionists surged to their feet, decrying this despicable con job.
“You lied to me, Damon!”shouted Tommy Kirkenhazard, with something like anguish. “To
me
.”
“Put
him
in the pit,” called Contessa Irina Kostovich, her face as feral as that of the Honshu wolf on her shoulder. “Make
Kronski
extinct. He deserves it for dragging us here.”
Kronski upped the volume on his podium mike. “This is ridiculous. If you have been tricked, then so have I. No! I will not believe it. This boy, this Pasteur, is lying. My fairy is real. Just give me a chance to prove it.”
“I have not finished, Doctor,” cried Artemis, stepping boldly to the dock. In both hands he held a Nu-skin patch, slipped into his palms during the confusion. He could feel pinpricks of heat on his flesh as the adhesive was activated. He had to act quickly or his plans would be reduced to two flesh-colored pads on his own hands.
“These ears do not seem right to me. And your friend Mr. Kirkenhazard was most gentle with them.”
Artemis scrunched one Nu-skin patch into a rough cone, sealing the adhesive on itself. He thrust the other hand through the bars and made a great show of tugging on the tip, while in reality spreading the second bandage over Holly’s ear, covering the entire tip and most of the auricle.
“It’s coming away,” he grunted, making sure to mask the cage’s camera with his forearm. “I have it.”
Seconds later the bandage was dry, and one of Holly’s ears was totally obscured. Artemis looked her in the eye and winked.
Play along
, the wink said.
I will get you out of this.
At least Artemis hoped this was what his wink communicated and not something like
Any chance of another kiss later?
Back to business.
“It’s a fake,” called Artemis, holding high the crumpled flesh-colored bandage. “It came off in my hand.”
Holly obligingly presented her profile to the Webcam. No more pointed ear.
Outrage was the dominant reaction from the Extinctionists.
Kronski had tricked them all, or worse, he had been bamboozled by a boy.
Artemis held the supposed fake ear aloft, squeezing it as though he were strangling a poisonous snake.
“Is this the man we want to lead us? Has Dr. Kronski displayed sound judgment in this case?”
Artemis threw the “ear” into the watery pit. “And
supposedly
this creature can hypnotize us all. I rather think her mouth is covered so she cannot speak.”
With one sharp movement he ripped the tape from Holly’s mouth. She winced and shot Artemis a dour glare, but then quickly dissolved into tears, playing the part of human victim to perfection.
“I didn’t want to do it,” she sobbed.
“Do what?” Artemis prompted.
“Dr. Kronski took me from the orphanage.”
Artemis raised an eyebrow.
The orphanage?
Holly was ad-libbing.
“He told me if I had the implants, then I could live in America. After the operation I changed my mind, but the doctor wouldn’t let me go.”
“An orphanage,” said Artemis. “Why, that’s bordering on the unbelievable.”
Holly’s chin dropped. “He said he’d kill me if I told.”
Artemis was outraged. “He said he’d kill you. And this is the man steering our organization. A man who hunts humans as well as animals.” He pointed an accusing finger at a bewildered Kronski. “You, sir, are worse than the creatures we all despise, and I demand you release this poor girl.”
Kronski was finished, and he knew it. But something could still be salvaged from this mess. He still had the group’s account numbers, and he was the only one with the combination to the compound safe. He could be out of this place in two hours with enough riches to last a few years. All he had to do was somehow stop this Pasteur boy hamming it up.
And then he remembered.
Ham!
“And what about this?” he shouted, brandishing Holly’s gun. “I suppose this is fake too.”
The Extinctionists drew back, cowering behind their seats.
“Absolutely,” sneered Artemis. “A child’s toy. Nothing more.”
“Would you stake your life on it?”
Artemis appeared to hesitate.“N ...no need for dramatics, Doctor. Your cause is lost. Accept it.”
“No,” snapped Kronski. “If the gun is real, then the creature is real. And if she is not real, as you insist, then you have nothing to fear.”
Artemis summoned his courage. “Very well, do your worst.” He stood squarely before the tiny needle barrel, offering his chest.
“You are about to die, Pasteur,” said Kronski, without much sympathy.