Prologue
How does one describe Artemis Fowl? Various psychiatrists have tried and failed. The main problem is Artemis's own intelligence. He bamboozles every test thrown at him. He has puzzled the greatest medical minds, and sent many of them gibbering to their own hospitals.
There is no doubt that Artemis is a child prodigy. But why does someone of such brilliance dedicate himself to criminal activities? This is a question that can be answered by only one person. And he delights in not talking.
Perhaps the best way to create an accurate picture of Artemis is to tell the by now famous account of his first villainous venture. I have put together this report from firsthand interviews with the victims, and as the tale unfolds, you will realize this was not easy.
the story began several years ago at the dawn of the twenty-first century. Artemis Fowl had devised a plan to restore his family's fortune. A plan that could topple civilizations and plunge the planet into interspecies war.
He was twelve years old at the time...
Chapter One: The Book
Ho Chi Minh City in the summer. Sweltering by anyone's standards. Needless to say, Artemis Fowl would not have been willing to put up with such discomfort if something extremely important had not been at stake. Important to the plan.
Sun did not suit Artemis. He did not look well in it. Long hours indoors spent in front of a computer screen had bleached the glow form his skin. He was white as a vampire and almost as testy in the light of day.
"I hope this isn't another wild-goose chase, Butler," he said, his voice soft and clipped. "Especially after Cairo."
It was a gentle rebuke. They had traveled to Egypt on the word of Butler's informant.
"No, sir. I'm certain this time. Nguyen is a good man."
"Hmm," droned Artemis, unconvinced.
Passersby would have been amazed to hear the large Eurasian man refer to the boy as sir. This was, after all, the third millennium. But this was no ordinary relationship, and these were no ordinary tourists.
They were sitting outside a curbside cafe on Dong Khai Street, watching the local teenagers circle the square on mopeds.
Nguyen was late, and the pathetic patch of shade provided by the umbrella was doing little to improve Artemis's mood. But this was just his daily pessimism. Beneath the sulk was a spark of hope. would they find the book? It was too much to hope for.
A waiter scurried to the table.
"More tea, sirs?" he asked, head bobbing furiously.
Artemis sighed. "Spare me the theatrics, and sit down."
The waiter turned instinctively to Butler, who was after all, the adult.
"But sir, I am the waiter."
Artemis tapped the table for attention.
"You are wearing handmade loafers, a silk shirt, and three gold signet rings. Your English has a tinge of Oxford about it, and your nails have the soft sheen of the recently manicured. You are not a waiter. You are our contact Nguyen Xuan, and you have adopted this pathetic disguise to discreetly check for weaponry."
Nguyen's shoulders sagged. "it is true. Amazing."
"Hardly. A ragged apron does not a waiter make."
Nguyen sat, pouring some tea into a tiny china cup.
"Let me fill you in on our weapons status," continued Artemis. "I am unarmed. But Butler here, my...ah...butler, has a Sig Sauer in his shoulder holster, two shrike-throwing knives in his boots, a derringer two-shot up his sleeve, garrote wire in his watch, and three stun grenades concealed in various pockets. Any thing else, Butler?"
"The cosh, sir."
"Oh, yes. A good old ball bearing cosh stuffed down his shirt."
Nguyen brought the cup trembling to his lips.
