The Empire of Glass - Andy Lane [105]
You cannot understand the damage that will be done if you keep the knowledge that you have stolen. Wisdom must be earned.
Advances in science must be worked for."
"There is no darkness but ignorance!" Shakespeare hissed.
Flicking his hand towards the Doctor, he shouted, "Out, damned spot, I say!" Vicki flinched, waiting for the impact, but none came.
"Hell is murky! What need we fear who knows it, when one can call our power to account?"
The Doctor interrupted in a low tone. "I must warn you that if you do not cooperate, I may be forced to employ violence!"
"Who'd have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?" Shakespeare shouted, and Vicki wasn"t sure whether he was talking to the audience or warning the Doctor.
Clenching his fists, Steven forced himself to calm down. How could he jam the door open? What could he use? Slowly, painstakingly, he gazed around the cabin again. Everything was fixed down, or moulded into place. Everything was seamless. Except...
Except Marlowe's body. Steven leaped across to him and quickly ran his hands across Marlowe's bloody clothing. It only took moments to locate the stiletto that Marlowe had mentioned, strapped to his ankle in a sheath. With a constant countdown running in his mind, Steven leaped back to the control console and jammed the stiletto blade into the thin crack between the hatch control button and the rest of the console. Sparks fountained and, caught by the air rushing through the open hatch, whirled madly around the cabin.
It would have to do. The skiff was starting to slow down, ready to settle on the landing pad. Without thinking, Steven rushed for the open hatch and jumped. The world outside was a confused blur of green vegetation, grey stone and blue sky. His legs were already scissoring in mid-air, and he hit the ground running. Two of the thin aliens tried to intercept him but, head down, he charged them and knocked them out of the way like skittles. His legs pumped away at the hard ground.
Air whipped at his face and brought tears to his eyes. Marlowe's finely chiselled features and mane of grey hair seemed to float before him as he ran, one eye closed in a knowing wink. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the group of humans appeared before him. Their faces were burned raw and each one had smoke rising from a glowing mass in his or her chest. They weren't concerned with Steven: he just pushed them out of the way and turned, panting with exertion, to watch as they stumbled towards the skiff.
Steven wiped the tears from his streaming eyes and tried to focus on what was going on. The Jamarians had crowded themselves into the skiff, and had presumably regained control from the autopilot. He saw that the hatch was still open; that was a blessing, at least. One of the Jamarians was tugging vainly at the door when it saw the oncoming humans. It yelled something to its colleagues inside, but too late. The humans reached the skiff. Some of them tried to force their way in through the hatch, and Steven saw the Jamarians' horns plunging into the mass of flesh to discourage them, but the majority were clambering up the skiff's sides and congregating on its gently sloping top.
A glint of red light in the sky caught Steven's attention. The arthropod was hovering a few hundred feet above the ground, its slowly beating wings illuminated from below by the light of the device it was holding. The device was glowing red as the rest of the pieces of the meta-cobalt device approached.
The skiff began to rise unsteadily from the ground, its hatch still open and the humans all somehow crammed inside and on top.
The Jamarians must have made a decision to evacuate the island and worry about the humans later. Perhaps they didn't know about the bomb.
The skiff began to accelerate. Within moments it would be out of sight, heading for the moon perhaps, or a waiting ship.
The arthropod folded its wings and