Artemis Fowl and the Atlantis Complex Read Online Free PDF

ground.
    “You might as well do the crate while you are about it, Captain Short,” said Artemis, wishing he could sneak in an extra word to bolster the sentence.
    Immediately, Holly mounted the crate and apparently punched it into sections.
    “Wow,” exhaled Foaly. “That seemed excessively violent, even for you.”
    Holly descended to earth, barely making a footprint in the snow. “Nope. It’s more of a science. Cos tapa . The quick foot . An ancient martial art based on the movements of predatory animals.”
    “Look!” said Foaly, pointing with some urgency into the vast steel-gray gloom. “Someone who cares!”
    Artemis was glad of the banter, as it distracted from his loosening grasp on the logical world. While the fairies enjoyed their customary back-and-forth, he allowed his spine to curve for a moment, let his shoulders dip, but someone noticed.
    “Artemis?”
    Holly, of course.
    “Yes, Captain Short.”
    “‘Captain’? Are we strangers, Artemis?”
    Artemis coughed into his hand. She was probing. He needed to ward off her attentions. Nothing to do but say the number aloud.
    “Strangers? No. We’ve known each other for more than five years.”
    Holly took a step toward him, her eyes wide with concern behind the orange curve of visor.
    “This five thing, Arty. I’m worried about that. You’re not yourself.”
    Artemis swept past her to the container that rested on the floor of the crate.
    “Who else would I be?” he said brusquely, cutting short any possible discussion on the state of his mental health. He waved impatiently at the ice haze as though it were deliberately obstructing him, then pointed his mobile phone at the container, zapping the computerized locks. The container looked and sounded like a regular household refrigerator, squat, pearlescent, and humming.
    “Just what they need in Iceland,” muttered Foaly. “More ice makers.”
    “Ah, but a very special ice maker,” said Artemis, opening the fridge door. “One that can save the glaciers.”
    “Does it make Popsicles too?” asked the centaur innocently, wishing his old buddy Mulch Diggums was there so they could high-five, a practice so puerile and outmoded that it would be sure to drive Artemis crazy, if he weren’t already crazy.
    “You said this was a demonstration,” snapped Vinyáya. “So demonstrate.”
    Artemis shot Foaly a poisonous look. “With great pleasure, Commander. Observe.”
    Inside the container sat a squat chrome contraption, which resembled a cross between a top-loader washing machine and a stubby cannon, apart from the jumble of wires and chips nestled under the bowl.
    “The Ice Cube is not pretty, I grant you,” said Artemis, priming the equipment with an infrared signal shot from the sensor on his phone. “But I thought better to get production moving along than spend another month tidying the chassis.” They formed a ragged ring around the device, and Artemis could not help thinking that had a satellite been observing the group, they would have looked like children playing a game.
    Vinyáya’s face was pale and her teeth chattered, though the temperature was barely below freezing. Chilly in human terms, a lot more uncomfortable for a fairy.
    “Come on, human. Switch this Ice Cube thing on. Let’s get the dwarf on the mudslide.”
    A fairy expression that Artemis was not familiar with, but he could guess what it meant. He glanced at his phone.
    “Surely, Commander. I will certainly launch the first pouch of nano-wafers just as soon as whatever unidentified craft is passing through the airspace moves on.”
    Holly consulted her visor readout communicator. “Nothing in the airspace, Mud Boy. Nothing but a shielded shuttle full of hurt for you, if you’re trying to pull some kind of trick.”
    Artemis could not stifle a groan. “No need for the rhetoric. I assure you, Captain, there is a ship descending through the atmosphere. My sensors are picking it up quite clearly.”
    Holly thrust her