The boy analysed the chess board, expression kept carefully blank. He was in a tight situation; his remaining pieces being his king, five pawns and a rook. His far older opponent slumped back against his chair, fingers interlaced behind his head.

"It's all right to give up boy," the older man drawled in a patronizing tone. "After all, you're only a child and I am a chess champion." The boy ignored the comment. You never let your opponent's taunts and goads get to you. The blue gaze swept coolly over the board once more, and the boy allowed himself a little smile. He moved an unnoticed pawn forward, blocking the opposing bishop's check. The older man stared at the boy cynically.

"Are you sure you want to do that boy?" he asked disbelievingly. The boy nodded and the man shrugged. "Ah well, just prolonging the inevitable."

Five moves later, the roles were reversed. The boy smugly exchanged his pawn for a queen and smiled triumphantly at his opponent.

"Checkmate," he said softly. He leaned back and steepled his fingers while his opponent frowned incredulously at the board. As every seasoned chess player does when they've lost, his opponent desperately sought a way out of defeat.

Artemis leaned against the wall, eyes closed, his mind deep in concentration. How long had he been in this damned room, two months? He remembered the first few days of his imprisonment; they were spent vainly trying to find a means of escape. Then came the time of meditation. He tried to think of ways to get a message to Butler, to Minerva, to Holly, to anyone, but to no avail. Finally, there was the despair. He was ready to tell his captors anything; the problem was he didn't know what it was they wanted.

He opened his eyes slowly and looked around the cramped, whitewashed room. There were no windows, no vents, nothing but a mattress to sleep on, the white fluorescent lights and the iron door. The floor however, was made in the perfect imitation of an oversized chessboard. Lethargically, he stood up and walked around the room, his legs stiff from lack of exercise. Butler had told him once of such incarceration methods. A person would be locked into a cell with no daylight, little room and for an indefinite period of time. Only the basest of sanitary facilities were provided and human contact was kept to a minimum. It not only tested physical endurance, but mental as well. Many took their lives and never saw the outside world again. An involuntary shiver ran down Artemis' spine and he sat back down once more.

Stimulate your mind he thought to himself. He replayed the chess game between himself and Kasparov, a match that took place almost eight years previously. Just as he was contemplating another possible ending, the iron door opened and a girl in her mid teens appeared in the doorway. Both hands were in the pockets of her crimson coat and she leaned against the doorframe.

"Out," she muttered brusquely, jerking her head towards the corridor.

Artemis stood and sauntered slowly over to her. "What? No food through the dog flap?"

The girl raised an eyebrow and withdrew her hand from her pocket. She was holding a gun. Artemis tried to identify the model, but the girl shoved him into the hallway. "If you want to try your luck, you keep pushing it. Go straight down the corridor and keep your mouth shut. I don't think I need to remind you of what will happen if you try anything."

Artemis squared his shoulders and walked down the corridor, painfully aware of the cold metallic cylinder pressing against his back. He took note of his surrounding environment. The place seemed incredibly plain, the white lights were the same as in his cell, the walls were bare and the floor was polished so he could see his reflection if he glanced down. He turned slightly to see if the tedious hallway continued the other way, but the girl applied more pressure to the gun.

"Don't dally," she hissed. Artemis increased his pace until finally, he began to discern an end to the corridor. It was a metal door with a blue gel finger pad beside it. Easy to unlock, if he had the right equipment with him. Artemis glanced at the girl as she gently placed a manicured finger on the pad. The gel moulded to her print and the door clicked open.

For the first time in fifty eight days, Artemis was able to tell what time it was. Night. He was in what appeared to be a strange greenhouse; there was a carpet of grass beneath his feet, vines twisted their way around wild plants and grew along the glass. Trees towered over him and Artemis would've sworn he saw a squirrel peep out from behind the tree trunk.

"Move it," the girl said, steering Artemis towards the shade of the large oak where a figure sat at a table. As he approached, Artemis noticed that the figure was male, had mud brown eyes, chestnut hair, and did not appear to be human.

"Ah, we finally meet Master Fowl," the elf said. Artemis was positive that if his host decided to stand, he would be little more than a metre in height. "Or is it Mister Fowl? That whole business with the time tunnel has certainly caused a lot of confusion about your age. "

"I didn't think it would be so hard to add three to eighteen," Artemis replied.

A poisonous smile plastered itself on the elf's face and he chuckled. "Ivy, find our guest a seat. I believe I've been quite inhospitable these last few weeks. Do forgive my neglect of you Mister Fowl."

The girl seemingly produced a seat out of nowhere and Artemis cautiously sat down. "It would be easier to forgive the negligence if I knew who you were and why I am here."

"Oh yes," the elf said. "My manners are in sore need of improvement. I am Axiom Marsh. The lovely lady who accompanied you here is Ivy Eglatere and my two assistants behind me are Gnat and Vend Gripe."

Axiom Marsh, the name was familiar. Holly had mentioned him as the new LEPrecon commander, a commander she respected almost as much as Julius Root. Artemis squinted in the darkness. He had not noticed the two bulky men standing in the shadows; the two human men. His mind was rapidly working to figure out what sort of situation he was in, when Marsh continued speaking.

"You ask why you're here? Well I have a bit of a dilemma I need help with," Marsh leaned forward. "You are a genius so, I thought to myself: Who better to ask than Artemis Fowl himself?"

Artemis raised his brow, but said nothing. Marsh took it as a signal to go on. "You see Mister Fowl, I have a plan. A plan that, let's say, if it were revealed would not appeal to the higher officials. Now, this plan was perfect, everything was progressing as well as could be until this person stumbled across it quite, I'm sure, by accident. Then he decided to meddle. We ended up setting his abduction in such a way that no one would be suspicious for a year at least, but now we've caught him, I just don't know what to do with him anymore."

Artemis remained silent. There was no doubt as to who Marsh was referring to, but Artemis hardly knew anything about the so called plan. He'd only found out about a bio bomb scheme, not of anything about who was going to detonate it or why. If only he hadn't insisted Butler remain at the manor with the twins. Artemis tried calculating the distance between the table and the side of the greenhouse. About nine metres or so. Not that escaping that way would help a great deal. He turned to face his host. He'd have to outwit the elf.

"I'd let him go," Artemis offered. "He would be looking over his shoulder at every turn, too busy to try exposing the plan."

Marsh smiled. "Ah. I might've done that before, but this young man is clever. I wouldn't trust him to keep quiet anyway. No. It'd either be permanent residence in our guest room for him, or death. But that would seem such a waste."

"Getting rid of me won't prevent your exposure," Artemis said, dropping all pretences. "Someone has access to my files and they will go through them if any harm should befall me."

"I've plenty of time to make sure that those files are destroyed," Marsh countered. Artemis was sceptic, but he refrained from further comment. Marsh relaxed back into his seat and snapped his fingers. Lights hummed into action, dimly illuminating the greenhouse.

"No other suggestions?" he queried. "You surprise me Mister Fowl. I would've believed you could conjure up plenty. In fact, you've barely said anything all night. No questions for me?"

"I believe that in due course, you will relish in gloating to me about your master plan," Artemis remarked slyly. This earned a laugh from the elf.

"Ivy, fetch the chessboard, I think we're in need of a little more entertainment," Marsh ordered. Ivy nodded and left the room. A few minutes later, she laid the board on the table, setting the amethyst and diamond pieces in their places on the glass board.

"Chess is a popular game among mud men, is it not?" Marsh began conversationally. "I've heard you're quite the chess champion. Select your side."

Artemis examined a diamond piece. "Seventeen carat pieces. Quite expensive. I didn't think that an LEP commander would have time for such games."

"Ah, so you know my station," Marsh moved an amethyst pawn forward. "A certain Major Holly Short must've told you that. I suppose this is the part where I tell my entire evil plan?"

"Certainly," Artemis murmured. "After which it will fall to pieces and you shall just be another evil villain who was reduced to ruin."

Marsh rapped his knuckles on the table and Vend stepped forward, proffering a crystal cup containing water. "Very well. As you know, Artemis, we have detained you because you know too much. Perhaps, not all of the plan but enough to put us at serious risk. We have several bio bombs programmed to detonate at various locations; Haven, London, New York, Sydney and Ontario to name a few. I'll try not to bore you with the details. Each bomb is set to destroy a specific area. We don't want to go overkill."

Artemis took out the opposing knight. "For someone who doesn't want to go into detail, you've revealed far more information than you intended to."

"Oh do enlighten me," Marsh said, sipping from his water.

Artemis smiled wolfishly. "Well, the bombs are programmed to target specific zones means that probably years of planning has gone into this scheme. Your main goal is to eliminate perhaps a devastating amount of the human and fairy population, since I presume all the bombs are set to go off in cities; the fact that you're bombing the centre of fairy civilisation tells me you bear a grudge against the fairies, despite being an elf yourself-"

The moment those last five words had been spoken, Artemis was aware that he'd touched a nerve. Marsh's face turned bright red and he jumped out of his chair, grabbing the glass of water. As he was bringing the cup down to strike Artemis, Ivy grabbed Marsh's arm. Inhaling deeply, he shook her off then shattered the glass on her hand. Artemis was surprised that Ivy didn't even blink once while this happened, but he was even more astonished to see blue sparks dance around the welts appearing on her palm.

"You've assessed my plan correctly," Marsh said in a low voice, his face returning to its usual hue. "But you didn't guess at our motive. Perhaps my little tantrum has explained it. You wonder at Ivy's ability to heal and are obviously a little more than unsettled at my outburst. To me, it is the greatest insult being called an elf. I am not part of that disgusting prejudiced species. I am what you'd call-"

"A mud fairy," Artemis supplied unsteadily. "A hybrid."

Marsh sat back down. "Yes, although the human and fairy allying occurred perhaps generations ago, the human genetics are recessive in me, they do not have any impact on my appearance. The same goes for the Gripe brothers, in their case vice versa. We have no talents or features that would mark us out as 'mud fairies' as you call us. However, there are those like Ivy who were a little more blessed, or cursed depending how you look at it. Apart from a lack in height and a point about the ears, you wouldn't be able to tell she wasn't entirely human. But her fairy genes have made her capable of minor shielding and given her very strong ability to heal. They've also slowed down her physical aging. Tell me, how old did you think she was Artemis?"

Artemis glanced at the girl again. "Fifteen or sixteen."

"Our dear Ivy is actually twenty Artemis," Marsh corrected. His amiable tone had returned and they resumed the chess game. "A year younger than yourself. So now, you can probably guess our intent. You may think that we're being a little extreme in wanting to wipe out the fairies and mud men, but we've got our reasons. Yes, mud fairies such as myself or the Gripes haven't as much trouble making our way in the world. But there are many more like Ivy, who are in the middle. We're shunned by the fairies for our human blood, and although the mud men have a little more interest in what we are, they do not treat us as intelligent creatures. To them, we are only things to be studied and kept in observation centres."

As Marsh concluded this passionate speech, Gnat stepped forward and spoke for the first time. "Sir, there's someone at the main entrance."

"Ah. No one would willingly come out to this isolated place. We must be polite and attend to whatever it is they need. I'm afraid I must leave you now," Marsh remarked politely, standing. "Ivy, escort our guest back to his room. We'll be meeting again tomorrow morning Mister Fowl."

Marsh departed the room with his bodyguards, while Artemis was propelled back to his cell. He stared up at the ceiling, his mind too busy for sleep. Marsh and his team were planning to eliminate two entire races. It was ludicrous, but he had no doubt that they would pull it off. Artemis moved into a cross legged position and decided to meditate. As cliché as it sounded, Marsh had to be stopped. Artemis inhaled deeply. Supposing he did get a message across to Holly, she wouldn't be able to do anything. From what he'd heard of Marsh, the mud fairy was a much respected LEP Commander. And with his history with the LEP, Artemis was doubtful that they trusted him. If he managed to contact Butler, that might make a little more difference, except they'd be up against fairy technology. How did one disarm a bio bomb? As Artemis made plan after plan, discarding each almost as soon as he thought them up, he came to a frightening realisation.

He was alone on this one.

--

It seemed only a few minutes later when Ivy came into the cell and ordered Artemis to get up. He yawned delicately and stood up, stretching as he approached the door.

"For someone who doesn't want to be treated like an animal under observation, you certainly treated me like one," Artemis commented. Ivy tensed, then in one fluid movement, she reached into her coat pocket and took out the gun. Artemis barely had time to register shock at the barrel peering into his face, when something whistled past his ear and embedded itself into the wall behind him. Ivy waved the gun in the direction of the hallway.

"Like I said, keep trying your luck and next time I won't miss," she said dangerously. Artemis stepped into the corridor and Ivy steered him down the other way. This end of the corridor had more doors lining the walls. They reached one with a red finger pad beside it. Ivy unlocked the door and pushed Artemis unceremoniously through.

It was another whitewashed room, quite large and filled with various machines. Standing by the top of a staircase was Marsh, again flanked by his two bodyguards. Ivy guided Artemis towards the Commander, and with a quick 'Don't touch anything' and a shove, she went and stood by the door.

"Good morning Mister Fowl," Marsh greeted. "This is the manufacturing and testing facility for the bombs. Seeing as using LEP bio bombs would draw suspicion to our activities, we've fashioned bio bombs in a human style." He carefully picked up one of the bombs. It had four seconds left on its countdown.

"Only a gun shot from our specially made Neutrinos can activate them," Marsh explained. "I presume you've seen how our Neutrinos operate, seeing as Ivy nearly shot you this morning."

Marsh then gave Artemis a detailed tour of the room, as though it were a museum, and explained much more of how the plan would operate. Artemis was filled with a disgusted sort of admiration. They would indeed succeed if he couldn't think of anything to stop them. As they left to go to the greenhouse, Artemis examined the room and committed its design to memory.

"I had expected you to brag about your diabolical plan to me, but don't you think it dangerous to let me know everything?" Artemis asked.

Marsh shrugged. "Last night, I came up with a solution to my dilemma concerning you. As you know, I'm fond of games. I've equipped you with a thorough knowledge of this establishment. I'm going to give you half an hour to try and get out of here. It will be a test of your genius and the strength of my plan. After that half an hour, I'm letting Ivy loose. She has my permission to kill you."

Artemis stared at Marsh in shock.

"Think of it as a chess game," Marsh smiled, leaning back. "Best not to tarry, you've got twenty nine minutes left."

Artemis turned on his heel and sprinted down the corridor. A thorough knowledge of the building wasn't going to be much help since all doors were finger print activated. He could dismantle the lock on the main door and escape if he had the right equipment. An idea occurred to him and he back tracked his steps back to the weapons room. Marsh had deliberately left it open.

That was a mistake.

Walking in, Artemis looked around for pliers, a thin strip of metal, anything that could be used to prise apart the digital input box for the door's lock. On his way out, he grabbed a soldering iron. Just in case he needed to melt the thing down. As he grabbed the tool, he accidentally brought a bio bomb with it.

He headed back to the main door and tried, without luck, to get it open. As he began to panic for one of the few times in his life, he heard footsteps loudly approaching. Swinging round, he could see Ivy at the opposite end of the corridor, coming towards him. He muttered something rude and unintelligible as gun shots flew past him. Abandoning the door, he ran back into the weapons room.

As soon as he'd entered the room, the shower of bullets ceased. Artemis could hear Ivy's high heels clicking on the floor. She wasn't about to go shooting blindly, she might let off a bio bomb. Artemis crouched still under the table and tried to control his breathing.

Think of it as a chess game. The sentence repeated itself in Artemis' mind. If you eliminate the Queen, you have a better chance of winning. Suddenly, an idea occurred to Artemis. Looking down at the tools he'd nabbed, he worked out the probability of success. There was a seventy four percent chance that it would work with a very low death rate. It was probably the only way of stopping the bomb attacks. While Ivy's footsteps receded, Artemis quickly assembled the device. When he stood up, he found a gun aimed at his chest.

"Checkmate," Ivy smiled, pulling the trigger.

As the bullet impacted on his chest, he revealed the bio bomb strapped to his body, its last four seconds counting down. "No, stalemate."