Ace of Spades

[Orion Fowl]

Artemis closed his laptop and set it to the side.

Everything is in place.

He stood up from his desk, and proceed to the plan.

He walked to the front door, and allowed himself to calm. He need show no fear. This was just business. It wasn't rocket science. (Then again, even that didn't stress him.)

He grabbed for the door handle, turned, and opened the door.

"Hello."

"May I come in," the male standing at the doorstep asked.

"That depends. Who are you and what do you want?" Artemis showed no sign that the question was a joke.

"My name is Nathaniel D. Banks, and I am here in accordance to a business meeting with Artemis Fowl, which I would highly doubt is yourself. Now, is Mr. Fow--"

He didn't get a chance to finish before the boy interrupted, "My name is most certainly Artemis. I am not one to joke around about my age, Mr. Banks."

"I apologize. You didn't seem like the person I was expecting."

"And what should we expect with today's technology? Please come in."

The two head inside, locking the door behind. They didn't have to walk far to reach the dining hall of the Fowl Manor. A short trip through the living room, and a small turn through a puny hallway led them to a fantastically furnished room. A large oval table lay on a humongous rug in the very center, with eight chairs lined around it. Portraits of past fathers stare straight only fifteen feet off the ground. A semi-large clock that seemed to be made of gold, hung on the opposite wall to the kitchen, which was to the left. The wall directly across their current position remain completely bare.

"Please have a seat. Anywhere you wish," Artemis insisted.

"Thank you," the man replied. He chose the third seat on the left, close between the bare wall and the kitchen doorway.

Artemis sat in the opposite chair and placed both hands on the table. He look toward the kitchen. Butler was standing in the room, completely unnoticeable to Banks if he so turned around to look.

"Now. To business, shall we?"

"Would you not like a drink, Mr. Banks? Please, I insist. I cannot simply invite a guest into my house without proper treatment."

"I'd rather not, thank--"

Before he could finish, Juliet walked into the hall, dressed in a maid's outfit. (It was not Artemis' intentions to let Banks know exactly who and what she was to him.) She was carrying a seemingly golden tray, with two pristine clear champagne glasses. Both were filled half-way with a carbonated substance. She placed one in front of Artemis, and the other in front of Banks, then walked back into the kitchen, saying not a word.

"Ah. What do we have here," Banks asked with a hint of sarcasm. He didn't plan on drinking something already prepared out of his vision. He wasn't a simpleton.

"A simple glass of carbonated water. Nothing more," Artemis replied, and took a sip of his own cup.

"And I can trust you how exactly?"

"Mr. Banks, if it were my intentions to kill you, I'd have had many opportunities to do so already."---A summarized flashback of the two's walk into and through the house flickered in Artemis' mind---"And we are both here for one thing."

"Yes," Banks started, taking a very small sip of his drink. It tasted completely natural, as if it had come from a fresh water stream, though no such thing was possible. Nothing was out of the ordinary, though if something had been in his drink, why would Artemis allow him to notice? "Now. I've had my drink. Is there anything else you must stall with?"

"I was not stalling. I was simply setting the mood."

"In all technical terms, stalling," Banks added.

"If you'd like to put it that way, then so be it. Though, right now, I'm not the one stalling." Artemis' expression stay the same.

Banks' face grew straight. "You're right. Please continue."

Artemis rose from his chair, and walked toward the hallway connected to the living room.

"Where are you going?"

"I must go fetch what we are here for. You do trust me, yes?"

"Trust one that leaves his 'guest' in a room alone?"

"Fair enough. If you so wish, you may come with. Though we will only be a minute, and will return to this room as soon as I've collected our item."

"That's okay. I will stay here."

"You're sure," Artemis reassured Banks.

"Yes. Please be quick. I am not one to be left alone, waiting."

Artemis left the room to head to the staircase in the living room leading to his upstairs computer room.

Banks looked around at everything in the dining hall, though, admittedly, there was barely anything at all.

He could swear one of the eyes of a portrait had moved, but it was only normal to see things. Or was it? He stood up and walked over for a closer inspection. His suspicion was correct. A camera lens was slightly bulging out of the painting.

Banks heard footsteps heading back downstairs, and headed back toward his seat.

Artemis returned with a shining-gray suitcase. A larger than normal case, at that. He sat down across from Banks, and placed the case standing up on the table.

"That was indeed quick."

"I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment." Artemis' lips show a very frail smile, which just as quickly fades.

"So do you spy on all of the guests you invite into your home," Banks asked. He couldn't keep the question from exiting his mouth.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Master Fowl, I am not a simpleton. There is a camera in that painting"---he pointed to said painting---"watching over the entire table."

"Oh. That," Artemis confessed. "I'm sure you understand a simple burglary security, yes?"

"For a place like this, I can only imagine." Banks was on a role with the jokes, though Artemis did not seem to care for any of them, and he concluded he should stop.

"You can never be too careful with today's technology." That was the second time Artemis used that as an excuse. No doubt Banks would point it out as well.

But Artemis was wrong. Banks seemed to pay no attention. "So this is our little gadget?" He gestured toward the case.

Artemis gave a slight nod. "Yes it is."

The two sit at the table, silent.

"May I see this gadget?" Banks wasn't going to wait all day, he had other plans to attend to.

"Yes you may, though I do require something from you first."

"Ah, yes. That's right."

Banks reached into his inside coat pocket and pulled out what seemed to be a playing card. An Ace of Spades. The Spade was created by a intricately rendered pattern, and the A was shaped with a slight curve on the right. Each was embossed in gold. The bottom of the card was a rich black, no doubt with finger prints left all over its surface.
He set it in the middle of the table.

Artemis did not reach for the card. He flipped the case to its side and entered his 3-digit code on each side (each being a different number). The latch clicked, and Artemis proceeded to open it, only to close it again and have it lock.

Butler, who had been in the kitchen, was now standing behind Banks, tranquilizer gun in hand.

"Master Fowl? What is it this--" A slight shock ran through his body before he began to lose consciousness.

"Don't worry, Mr. Banks. I was only stalling," Artemis mocked with a straight face.

Banks slumped in his chair. Butler grabbed hold of one shoulder before he fell out of it.

"Thank you, Butler. He work here is done."

Artemis reached forward and picked up the card.

"You placed the serum in the tranquilizing concoction, yes?"

"Yes, Artemis," the bodyguard replied.

"Good. In fifteen minutes time, he will remember nothing, and will, by then, be on his way back to where he came from."

Butler nodded, and heaved Banks over his shoulder and headed for the living room.

Artemis placed the card in his right jacket pocket, grabbed his suitcase, and headed for the stairwell.

"Oh. And Butler," Artemis said, stopping a few steps up.

The bodyguard turned to the boy.

"Make sure he has everything with him."

Butler paused, then grabbed a replica of the card out of his pants pocket, and jammed it into the unconscious male's jacket pocket. He continued out the door, heading for the Hummer parked in the drive.

[Orion Fowl]

Artemis walked into his computer room, and shut and locked the door behind him. He wanted to be completely alone when he unveiled the secret behind the card he now held in his hand.

He turned off all the computers he had, even the one connected to the projector in the back of the room, displaying BBC's website.

He brought the card to a semi-small table where he placed the suitcase down at as well. He entered the numbers into the correct positions, and the lock clicked open.

Inside, a small cube lay on a neat foam platform. It was polished with a brilliant blue finish, and contained absolutely no fingerprints.

He brought it out of the case.

To a normal person, it would have seemed like an expensively worthless cube; but in all fairness, it wasn't.

Artemis had purchased the device from a Russian man a few weeks prior, and found out that it's contents lay secret without the proper key, which he now had.

A single slot three times the size of an SD card slot was the only indentation of the cube.

Artemis had been waiting for this moment since the first time he had heard about the cube a few months ago.

What exactly it contained was a mystery, as no one person had ever had both components at the same time (besides the creator, who shipped them in different directions across the globe, only to die during an interrogation). But now that part was about to change. He had single-handedly obtained both, and it was relatively easy. Nothing would hinder Artemis now; at least not in his plans, that is.

He inserted the card into the slot, with the top of the "A" pointing inwards.

The box vibrated and emitted a faint buzzing sound.

The lights in the room flickered for a brief moment, then dimmed. A small electrical field enveloped the cube.

Suddenly, the top side of the cube split into two sections, and unfolded like a book. The buzzing stopped, the field dissipated, and the vibrating ceased.

The cube lay perfectly still. Artemis left it untouched. He simply peered inside it. But to his utmost surprise, there was nothing in it.

All that work for nothing, he thought.