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- Mulch stepped on to a parquet corridor. The whole place smelled of
- money. He could make a fortune here, if only he had the time.
- There were cameras just below the architrave. Tastefully done,
- nestling in the natural shadows. But vigilant nonetheless. Mulch stood for
- a moment, calculating the system’s blind spot. Three cameras on the
- corridor. Ninety-second sweep. No way through.
- “You could ask for help,” said a voice in his ear.
- “Foaly?” Mulch pointed his wired eyeball at the nearest camera. “Can
- you do anything about those?” he whispered.
- …
- He shuffled along the corridor, skipping through the first doorway he
- encountered.
- More cameras. Quite a lot of them, in fact. Mulch studied the lenses’
- sweep. Four were surveying the general floorspace, but another three were
- fixed.
- - Artemis Fowl, Chapter 7
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