Artemis- Sap Concentrate

The bodyguard drew his dart pistol, but Artemis recognized the sound of a gun sliding from a holster and waved his index finger.

“That’s our last option. I don’t want our little friend breaking his neck on the way down. First we try gentle persuasion.”

From his pocket, Artemis tugged a small ziplock bag containing an amber gel flecked with black and green.

“My own concoction,” he explained. “The sifakas are from the Indriidae family of primates, which, as you know, is a strictly vegetarian family.”

“Who wouldn’t know that?” wondered Butler, who had not exactly put away his pistol.

Artemis unzipped the bag, releasing a sweet thick aroma that wound its way upward, toward the lemur. “Sap concentrate, with a potpourri of African vegetation. No lemur could resist this. But if this particular primate’s brain is stronger than his stomach, fire away. One shot, if you please, and avoid the head. The needle alone would probably be enough to crack that tiny skull.”

Butler would have snorted, but the lemur was moving. It crawled along the branch, dipping its pointed nose to catch the odor, touching the smell with a darting pink tongue.

“Hmm,” said the bodyguard. “That concoction won’t work on humans, I suppose.”

“Ask me again in six months,” said Artemis. “I am doing some pheromone experiments.”

The lemur scampered forward now, hypnotized by the glorious aroma. When the branch ran out, it dropped to the ground and hopped forward on two legs, fingers outstretched toward the bag.
...

The lemur reached out and tweaked Artemis’s nose, much as Beckett might have done, then turned and trotted along the cable toward Butler, nose sniffing the air, nostrils flaring as they located the sweet scent of Artemis’s goody bag.

In a matter of seconds it sat curled in the crook of young Artemis’s elbow, contentedly dipping its long fingers into the sap. The young boy’s face glowed with victory.