"Artemis Fowl 02 - The Arctic Incident" - читать интересную книгу автора (Colfer Eoin)

Doctor Po jotted in his pad for a full minute. 'We do have a problem, Artemis. But that's not it,' he said eventually.
Artemis almost smiled. No doubt the doctor would treat him to another predictable theory. Which disorder would he have today? Multiple personality perhaps, or maybe he'd be a pathological liar?
'The problem is that you don't respect anyone enough to treat them as an equal.'
Artemis was thrown by the statement. This doctor was smarter than the rest. 'That's ridiculous. I hold several people in the highest esteem.'
Po did not glance up from his notebook. 'Really? Who, for example?'
Artemis thought for a moment. 'Albert Einstein. His theories were usually correct. And Archimedes, the Greek mathematician.'
'What about someone that you actually know?'
Artemis thought hard. No one came to mind.
'What? No examples?'
Artemis shrugged. 'You seem to have all the answers, Doctor Po. Why don't you tell me?'
Po opened a window on his laptop. 'Extraordinary. Every time I read this
'My biography, I presume?'
'Yes, it explains a lot.'
'Such as?' asked Artemis, interested in spite of himself.
Doctor Po printed off a page.
'Firstly there's your associate, Butler. A bodyguard, I understand. Hardly a suitable companion for an impressionable boy. Then there's your mother. A wonderful woman in my opinion, but with absolutely no control over your behaviour. Finally, there's your father. According to this, he wasn't much of a role model even when he was alive.'
The remark stung, but Artemis wasn't about to let the doctor realize how much. 'Your file is mistaken, Doctor,' he said. 'My father is alive. Missing perhaps, but alive.'
Po checked the sheet. 'Really? I was under the impression that he has been missing for almost two years. Why, the courts have declared him legally dead.'
Artemis's voice was devoid of emotion, though his heart was pounding. 'I don't care what the courts say, or the Red Cross. He is alive, and I will find him.'
Po scratched another note.
'But even if your father were to return, what then?' he asked. 'Will you follow in his footsteps? Will you be a criminal like him? Perhaps you already are?'
'My father is no criminal,' Artemis pointed out testily. 'He was moving all our assets into legitimate enterprises. The Murmansk venture was completely above board.'
'You're avoiding the question, Artemis,' said Po.
But Artemis had had enough of this line of questioning. Time to play a little game. 'Why, Doctor?' said Artemis, shocked. 'This is a sensitive area. For all you know, I could be suffering from depression.'
'I suppose you could,' said Po, sensing a breakthrough. 'Is that the case?'
Artemis dropped his face into his hands. 'It's my mother, Doctor.'
'Your mother?' prompted Po, trying to keep the excitement from his voice. Artemis had retired half a dozen counsellors from St Bartleby's already this year. Truth be told, Po was on the point of packing his own bags. But now . . .
'My mother, she .. .'
Po leaned forward on his fake Victorian chair. 'Your mother, yes?'
'She forces me to endure this ridiculous therapy when the school's so-called counsellors are little better than misguided do-gooders with degrees.'
Po sighed. 'Very well, Artemis. Have it your way, but you are never going to find peace if you continue to run away from your problems.'
Artemis was spared further analysis by the vibration of his mobile phone. It was on a coded secure line. Only one person had the number. The boy retrieved it from his pocket, flipping open the tiny communicator. 'Yes?'
Butler's voice came through the speaker. 'Artemis. It's me.'
'Obviously. I'm in the middle of something here.'
'We've had a message.'
'Yes. From where?'
'I don't know exactly. But it concerns the Fowl Star.'
A jolt flew along Artemis 's spine. 'Where are you?'
'The main gate.'
'Good man. I'm on my way.'
Doctor Po whipped off his spectacles. 'This session is not over, young man. We made some progress today, even if you won't admit it. Leave now and I will be forced to inform the Dean.'
The warning was lost on Artemis. He was already somewhere else. A familiar electric buzz was crackling over his skin. This was the beginning of something. He could feel it.



CHAPTER 2: CRUSIN' FOR CHIX

WEST BANK, HAVEN CITY, THE LOWER ELEMENTS

THE traditional image of a leprechaun is one of a small, green-suited imp. Of course, this is the human image. Fairies have their own stereotypes. The People generally imagine officers of the Lower Elements Police Reconnaissance squad to be truculent gnomes or bulked-up elves, recruited straight from their college crunchball squads.