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“And thank you, Dr. Fowl, for the enlightening lecture,” added the professor.
The man bowed slightly to the auditorium’s polite applause, his smile not quite so vampiric anymore. “Thank you for having me. It is always a pleasure to visit my alma mater.”
The room began to bustle with activity as students shifted and stood, some leaving while others mingled about in groups, discussing the controversial lecture over Einstein-Rosen Bridges that the well-known alumni had delivered. Artemis got to work rolling up his charts--he had used a projected powerpoint, of course, but recently he had discovered that he could not quite resist the dramatic effect of a few hard copy graphs and diagrams--and answered a few questions from students brave enough to approach him. With his new, slightly less formal business casual style, Artemis could’ve been mistaken for an abnormally young, extremely well dressed professor. However, everyone knew of his reputation. Two doctorates, one more in progress, countless published papers overhauling the many fields he was proficient in, a family famous for environmentalism, and rumors circling of a Time magazine Man of the Year award made Artemis Fowl the Second an intimidating man, despite the fact that he was younger than nearly everyone in the lecture hall. Perhaps his youth made him all the more unnerving to the academics.
The hall had mostly cleared when Artemis ducked into the hallway, his loafers squeaking slightly on the linoleum’s finish. A few fluorescent lights buzzed lazily, providing dim lighting. Artemis almost dropped his briefcase when his phone rang loudly, and did drop one of the charts rolled up under his arm as he struggled to retrieve the device from his pocket. Finally, he pulled it out.
“Answer,” he gave the voice command, and the phone automatically scanned his face, eyes, and the vibrations of his voice to determine that he was, indeed, its owner. All of this took less than a split second, so the call was taken immediately.
“Artemis, where--”
“Yes, yes, I’m on my way out,” Artemis assured his bodyguard, squatting to retrieve the chart. “I’m in the hallway, and I do not see any immediate threats. I’ll be out in one hundred and thirty four seconds. If I do not appear then, then by all means, storm the building.”
Two minutes and fourteen seconds later, Artemis emerged from the wooden doors and jogged--or rather, hobbled--down the stone steps to the awaiting Bentley. The drivers’ door swung open and his overprotective bodyguard emerged.
“I was about to go in,” Butler grumbled as he opened the back door for the young man. “Does it really take that long to come outside?”
“I kept dropping the modified Schwarzschild diagram,” Artemis admitted, blushing in the dark as he tossed the charts into the car and slid in behind them.
“Mhm,” the large man hummed, shutting the door firmly behind him. He ducked back into the drivers’ seat, his graceful movement at juxtaposition with his large frame. “I don’t feel comfortable with this arrangement, Artemis. I think I’ll attend your next lecture.”
Artemis opened his mouth to protest--he was a grown man, he could handle a simple theoretical physics lecture without a giant bodyguard to further intimidate the reclusive graduate students--but Butler cut him off. “I’ll stand in the back. Just to be sure.”
Artemis closed his mouth and nodded after a moment. “I suppose that would be fine. If you can stay awake through my lectures.”
Butler chuckled and Artemis smiled slightly at his own joke. He knew that his bodyguard, his beloved old friend, felt a certain degree of anxiety ever since Artemis’s six month death and subsequent cloning. It had been years ago now, but some overprotectiveness was warranted. Artemis could sacrifice some independence to set Butler’s mind at ease. And besides, it would be quite amusing to subject his friend to a bit of “theoretical” physics. Artemis’s theories were, of course, not theoretical at all. He had traveled an Einstein-Rosen Bridge himself multiple times with the help of a few terajoules of concentrated magic, but one could hardly explain that to a scientific journal or a room of academics. Also, this was hardly fair to the poor bodyguard, who already endured more physics monologues than most people could probably bear. If Butler had not been trained to withstand even the most inhumane forms of torture, he would have likely cracked by now.
Rather than retrieve his laptop from the briefcase and continue working on his latest project, Artemis propped his elbow on the handle’s armrest and rested his chin in his palm, watching the city lights flash past and the glowing full moon remain still. The pair remained comfortably silent for the remainder of the car ride home.
The lights became less frequent as they left the city behind and drove through rural outskirts of Dublin, until finally the well-lit gates to the estate appeared through the trees. The rocky driveway crunched noisily under the Bentley’s tires as they passed through the gate, which closed swiftly behind them. The drive twisted through the woods before opening up to reveal Fowl Manor, an imposing late medieval castle that was dark save for a few lit windows. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like a haunted house.
Butler swung the Bentley around the circular drive and parked it in front of the house.
“Are you hungry? I could make a croque monsieur and reheat some green onion soup from lunch,” the bodyguard offered. Croque monsieur was, of course, a fancy way of saying grilled ham and cheese sandwich. It was late, nearly ten o’ clock, and Artemis had been working all day. A simple but hearty, warm dinner would do the skinny young man some good.
Artemis pushed his own door open before Butler could get to it and smiled up at his friend as he clambered out. “That sounds delicious.” He turned to retrieve his briefcase and materials but paused. “Could you take my things in? I think…” he glanced up at the night sky. “I think I’m going to take a short walk.”
Butler eyed him suspiciously, and Artemis quickly added, “Only down to the lake.”
The bodyguard sighed. “Try not to fall in.”
“I’ll try,” Artemis promised, stepping away from the car. He skirted around the back of the castle, towards the open meadows. The well manicured grass eventually gave away to the tall, scruffy heath. The nighttime cold had set in quickly, and Artemis found himself chilly and very grateful for the merino wool sweater and thick cashmere topcoat he wore over his white dress shirt. He gazed up at the stars as he walked, occasionally stumbling over clumps of grass--loafers were not exactly the most practical shoe for a trek through the heath, but that had never stopped Artemis from wearing them on the high meadow. He had considered hiking up there this evening, perhaps spending some time with his shuttle prototype in the barn, but he felt an odd melancholy that was sure to be exacerbated by the sight of his own grave. Though the headstone had been removed, his old body still lay below the ground, with his switched fingers and hazel eye.
Instead he headed towards the lower meadow by the lake. The sky was surprisingly clear for late October, and the stars reflected off the water’s surface like a silvery mirror. He wandered about the shore until he found an acceptable patch of tall grass to settle down on. The grass was dewey with condensation, which was already staining his tailored slacks, but damp trousers were preferable to muddy trousers.
Artemis leaned back, contemplating the constellations. How distant and cold they appeared on this dark night… though, didn’t they always appear so? Artemis huffed in amusement at these ridiculous thoughts as he tilted his head back, eyes closed. What has come over me? I’m not usually so brooding. The lecture wasn’t that bad.
“Something funny?” a voice to his left asked, and Artemis sat straight up, head whipping towards the source.
“Holly?”
There was a light shimmering in the darkness, not unlike the reflective lake, and the elf materialized next to him in the grass, grinning at his surprise. “And here I thought I couldn’t sneak up on you anymore,” she teased, helmet tucked under her arm.
Artemis blinked, an easy smile slipping across his face. “I thought you might come, for the hunter’s moon,” he gestured at the full moon, which seemed closer to the Earth than ever, suspended as it was above the lake. “But I didn't dare hope.”
“Hunter’s moon?” she asked. “How appropriate. Your lecture was good, by the way. Well, the parts I understood.”
Artemis blinked again. Surprised twice in one evening by the Captain. That was new.
“You were there?” he asked.
“I sure was,” Holly confirmed. “I almost couldn’t tell that those were classified Section Eight secrets you were spilling.”
Artemis raised an eyebrow. “I did not steal any LEP data, if that’s what you’re suggesting. I procured all of my findings from my own research. And besides, why didn’t you let me know?” He glanced back towards the manor, a dark mass in the distance. “And why did you wait so long to deshield?”
Holly’s grin turned sheepish. “I snagged a last minute surface pass. I was going to tell you earlier, but you seemed distracted, and I was curious. I did say hello to Butler after you hiked off to stargaze. What are you doing?”
The young man shrugged, looking back at the sky. “Just… Thinking. Admiring the stars. I’m not sure, really,” he admitted. The elf watched him carefully.
“Are you… okay? You seem down,” she stated gently. She knew him too well. Sometimes Artemis thought a little too much. Sometimes he needed someone to pull him from his own head, to ground him in reality.
His gaze returned to Holly. His best friend. Elves were made for moonlight, he decided. Its soft, silvery glow illuminated her warm skin and highlighted her angular features. She was beautiful, made for these meadows and lakes and skies.
She watched him silently, waiting for his answer.
Finally, Artemis spoke. “I didn’t like my lecture.”
Holly snorted, taken aback. “You’re gloomy because you didn’t like the lecture? I thought it was great. I only yawned once.”
He smiled wryly at her. “The lecture was technically fine. Probably better than fine--” Holly rolled her eyes at his simple arrogance. “--but I’m not satisfied... I enjoyed speaking and answering the questions, but as soon as I stepped outside…” He trailed off and studied the lake's surface.
The elf softened at the sight of her friend so lost in his thoughts. She placed an encouraging hand on his arm.
“All the proofs and figures… They don’t really do it justice,” he said quietly. “All this,” he gestured broadly with one hand. “The meadow. The lake. The stars. The reality of the Einstein-Rosen--the time tunnel. None of it can be expressed with theoretical physics and charts. My whole lecture was an offensive caricature of the complexity of nature. It’s just,” Artemis paused and looked at her, taking a moment to breathe, his shoulders dropping in defeat, or acceptance. “It’s just magic.”
Holly understood, but she smiled softly and squeezed his arm. “Oh, come on. Don’t say that. You love your physics and charts. Picking them up every time you dropped them, all the way out to the car.”
Artemis could see in her mismatched eyes that she had understood his point, however convoluted, and he was relieved. He was not the only one who could see, so to speak. In fact, he had likely learned this appreciation for the natural world from the elf who sat by his side, admiring the stars and moon.
He settled back, smiling slightly. “I suppose so.”
They sat like that for a moment in perfect silence.
Then Artemis sat up, gaping at her. “You didn’t help me with the charts. You could have carried one, and you didn’t!”
Holly laughed in delight. “It looked to me like you had it. You wouldn’t want floating charts in the security footage. But don’t worry. It’s all recorded on the helmet cam.” She rapped her knuckles on the helmet in the grass.
Artemis groaned, rubbing his face. “You… you are terrible.”
“I learned it from the master,” the elf said smugly.
“You learned it from the centaur,” he corrected.
Holly waved the point away. “We should get back, you know. I reckon Butler’s marching out here now to make sure I haven’t pushed you in.”
Artemis grumbled but relented, hoisting himself out of the grass and offering a hand to the elf, tugging her to her feet.
“Your butt is damp,” she pointed out.
“I am aware, thank you very much,” Artemis confirmed. They turned from the lake, picking their way carefully through the heath. “I will have to ask Butler to make a third sandwich,” he added as an afterthought.
“Don’t worry, I already did,” Holly assured him. “You know, you’re very poetic when you aren’t using so many science words.”
“Thank you, I suppose.”
Together they hiked up the meadow, towards the looming house and warm sandwiches, looking up, from time to time, at the stars.