Artemis- Orion Arrives

Artemis shifted on the ice, trying to blink under a faceful of sloppy
nano-wafers.
“Unhhh,” he moaned. “Ayyy ga breee.”
“Wait,” said Holly, scooping handfuls of gunk away from his
nostrils and mouth. “Let me help.”
Artemis’s own inventions dribbled from the corners of his mouth.
There was something different about his eyes. They were the same
colors as usual, but softer somehow.
You’re dreaming.
“Artemis?” she said, half expecting a typical snappy retort, as in, Of
course it’s Artemis. Who were you expecting? But instead he simply
said:
“Hello.”
Which was fine, and Holly was happy enough, until he followed it
with:
“And who might you be?”
Ooooh, D’Arvit.
Holly tugged off her helmet. “It’s me, Holly.”
Artemis smiled in delight. “Of course, yes. Artemis thinks about you
all the time. It’s embarrassing that I didn’t recognize you. First time up
close.”
“Uh . . . Artemis thinks about me. But you don’t?”
“Oh yes, I do constantly, and may I say you look even more
bewitching in the flesh.”
Holly felt a feeling of foreboding creep over her like the shadow of
a summer storm cloud.
“So, we haven’t met before?”
“Not met, per se,” replied the human youth. “I have of course been
aware of you. Seen you from afar, submerged as I was by Artemis’s
personality. Thank you for releasing me, by the way. I had been
making inroads in the host consciousness for some time now, since
Artemis developed his little number obsession, but that jolt from your
weapon was just the thing to give me the boost I needed. It was your
weapon, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was,” said Holly absently. “And you’re welcome.
I think.” A sudden idea cut through her confusion. “How many
fingers am I holding up?”
The boy did a quick digit check. “Four.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
“No. To me a number is a number. Four is no more a harbinger of
death than any other whole number. Fractions, though, they’re
freakish.”
The youth smiled at his own joke. A smile of such simple saintly
goodness that it would have made Artemis retch.
Holly was drawn into the psychosis and had to ask, “So if you’re not
Artemis Fowl, then who are you?”
The boy extended a dripping hand straight up. “My name is Orion. I
am so pleased to meet you at last. I am, of course, your servant.”
Holly shook the proffered hand, thinking that manners were lovely,
but she really needed someone cunning and ruthless right now, and this
kid didn’t appear to be very cunning.
“That’s great, em . . . Orion. Really. We’re in a bind here, and I can
use all the help I can get.”
“Excellent,” said the boy. “I have been taking stock of the situation
from the rear seat, as it were, and I suggest that we retire to a safe
distance and construct some form of bivouac.”
Holly groaned. Of all the times for Artemis to go AWOL inside his
own head.

- The Atlantis Complex, Chapter 3