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.
“Perhaps I would be, if you could squeeze your chubby finger into the trigger guard,” said Artemis, almost as if he were goading the doctor into action.
“To hell with you then!” barked Kronski, and pulled the trigger.
Nothing much happened. A spark and a slight hum from the inner workings.
“It’s broken,” gasped the doctor.
“You don’t say,” said Artemis, who had remote-destructed the Neutrino’s charge pack from the shuttle.
Kronski raised his palms. “Okay, boy. Okay. Give me a moment to think.”
“Just let the girl go, Doctor. Save a shred of dignity. We don’t execute humans.”
“I am in charge here. I just need a second to gather myself. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This is not how she said it would go. . . .”
The doctor rested his elbows on the lectern, rubbing his eyes beneath the round, tinted spectacles.
How she said it would go? thought Artemis. Were there unseen forces at work here?
While Artemis was puzzling and Kronski’s world collapsed around his ample shoulders, cell phones began to ring in the banquet hall. A lot of people were receiving messages all of a sudden. In moments the room rang with a discordant symphony of beeps, brrr’s, and polyphonic tunes.
Kronski ignored this strange development, but Artemis was anxious. He had things under control now and did not need anything to redress the scales, or for that matter, tip Kronski over the edge.
The reactions to the incoming messages were a mixture of shock and glee.
Oh my God. Is this true? Is it real?
Play it again. Turn up the volume.
I don’t believe this. Kronski, you fool.
That’s the last straw. We are a joke. The Extinctionists are finished.
Artemis realized that all these messages were in fact the same message. Someone had an Extinctionists database and was sending them all a video.
Artemis’s own phone trilled gently. Of course it would; he had put his fake identity on every Extinctionist database he could find. And as his phone was still linked to the giant screen, the video mail began to play automatically.
Artemis recognized the scene immediately. The leather souk. And the main player was Kronski, standing on one leg, squealing with a high-pitched ruptured-balloon intensity. Comical was not the word for it. Ridiculous, farcical, and pathetic were words that came close. One thing was certain, having seen this video, no one in their right mind could respect this man ever again, much les
s follow his lead.
While the video played, a short message scrolled below the picture.
Here we see Dr. Damon Kronski, president of the Extinctionists, displaying surprising balance for a man his size. This reporter has learned that Kronski turned against animals when he was mauled by an escaped koala at one of his politician father’s rallies in Cleveland. Witnesses to the mauling say that young Damon “squealed so sharp he coulda cut glass.” A talent the good doctor does not seem to have lost. Squeal, baby, squeal!
Artemis sighed. I did this, he realized. It’s just the kind of thing I would do. At another time he would have appreciated this touch, but not now. Not when he was so close to freeing Holly. Speaking of Holly . . . “Artemis, get me out of here,” she hissed. “Yes, of course. Time to go.” Artemis rifled through his pockets for a handy wipe.