Read Artemis Fowl 08 - The Last Guardian for Free Online

accessed the clone’s file on Argon’s Web site, navigating with blurred speed to the patient details.
    “No. I think we should be okay there. Opal harvested her own DNA before the time line split.”
    Artemis was angry with himself all the same for momentarily forgetting the clone.
    “We were minutes into this crisis before the clone’s relevance occurred to me,” he said. “If Nopal had been created at a later date, my slow thinking could have cost lives.”
    “There are still plenty of lives at stake,” said Foaly. “We need to save as many as we can.”
    The centaur popped a Plexiglas cover on the wall and pressed the red button underneath. Instantly a series of Evac sirens began to wail throughout the city. The eerie sound spread like the keening of mothers receiving the bad news of their nightmares.
    Foaly chewed a nail. “There’s no time to wait for Council approval,” he said to Trouble Kelp. “Most should make it to the shuttle bays. But we need to ready the emergency resuscitation teams.”
    Butler was less than happy with the idea of losing Artemis. “Nobody’s death is impending.”
    His principal didn’t seem overly concerned. “Well, technically, everybody’s death is impending.”
    “Shut up, Artemis!” snapped Butler, which was a major breach of his own professional ethics. “I promised your mother that I would look after you, and yet again you have put me in a position where my brawn and skills count for nothing.”
    “That is hardly fair,” said Artemis. “I hardly think that I can be blamed for Opal’s latest stunt.”
    Butler’s face blazed a few shades redder than Artemis could remember having seen it. “I do think you can be blamed, and I do blame you. We’re barely clear of the consequences of your last misadventure, and here we are neck deep in another one.”
    Artemis seemed more shocked by this outburst than by the impending death situation.
    “Butler, I had no idea you were harboring such frustration.”
    The bodyguard rubbed his cropped head.
    “Neither had I,” he admitted. “But for the past few years it’s been one thing after another. Goblins, time travel, demons. Now this place where everything is so…so…small.” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “Okay. I said it, it’s out there. And I am fine now. So let’s move on, shall we? What’s the plan?”
    “Keep evacuating,” said Artemis. “No more empowering those hostage-taking nitwits; they have their instructions. Drop the blast doors, which should help absorb some of the shock waves.”
    “We have our strategies in place, human,” said Trouble Kelp. “The entire population can be at their assembly points in five minutes.”
    Artemis paced, thinking. “Tell your people to dump their weapons into the magma chutes. Leave anything that might have Koboi technology behind. Phones, games, everything.”
    “All Koboi weaponry has been retired,” said Holly. “But some of the older Neutrinos might have a chip or two.”
    Trouble Kelp had the grace to look guilty. “ Some of the Koboi weaponry has been retired,” he said. “Budget cuts—you know how it is.”
    Pip interrupted their preparations by actually rapping on the camera lens.
    “Hey, LEP people. I’m getting old here. Somebody say something, anything. Tell us more lies—we don’t care.”
    Artemis’s eyebrows furrowed and joined. He did not appreciate such flippant posturing when many lives were at stake. He pointed at the microphone.
    “May I?”
    Trouble barely looked up from his emergency calls and made a vague gesture that was open to interpretation. Artemis chose to interpret it as an affirmative.
    He approached the screen. “Listen to me, you lowlife. This is Artemis Fowl. You may have heard of me.”
    Pip grinned, and his mask echoed the expression.
    “Oooh, Artemis Fowl. Wonder boy. We’ve heard of you alright, haven’t we, Kip?”
    Kip nodded, dancing a little jig. “Artemis Fowl, the Oirish boy who chased leprechauns.