The Empire of Glass - Andy Lane [23]
Eventually she threw the blanket to the floor and stood up. She felt amazingly awake and happy: better than she had for weeks. There was something about sleeping in the TARDIS that she hated: perhaps it was the dryness of the air, or the ever-present background hum, but she always woke up tired. For a while she had thought that she was ill, but all she had needed was a good night's sleep.
Pulling her clothes into some semblance of order, she wandered across to the window. The square outside was bustling with activity: people shopping, talking, drinking, walking or just standing around, singly or in groups. The costumes were gaudy: the faces full of character. This place was more alive than anywhere she had ever seen. Everybody looked like they were living the most important moment of their lives right in front of her.
She rested her hands on the window sill, ready to lean out and look to either side, but something stopped her. There were ridges beneath her fingers: rough, splintery ruts in the wood. She moved her hands and looked down at the sill. The wood had been crushed in two places, one on either side. The splintered areas were about the size of her hands, but they didn't look like they'd been caused by hands.
They looked like they'd been caused by claws.
"Good morning, my dear," the Doctor said from the doorway. "Did you sleep well?"
"Doctor!" She turned, smiling at the familiar elderly face. "I had a wonderful night!"
The Doctor beamed at her. He looked no different from the last time she had seen him: just as distinguished and just as sprightly.
"Good, my child. This place seems to agree with us all. I spent a very instructive night in the Doge's library, and Steven seems to have "hit the town", as Chetter - Chesterton used to say."
"Doctor, come and look at this." Vicki gestured him over to the window. "I had the oddest dream last night. I dreamed that there was something sitting on the windowsill, talking to me. It wasn't human, and when I woke up this morning, I found these marks."
The Doctor examined them closely. "Hmm. Are you sure that they weren't there last night?"
"Well... " She thought for a moment. "I don't remember them."
"No, and more to the point, neither do I." He ran a hand across his chin. "I cannot explain it, not yet, but when added to the mysterious invitation, it begins to fit a pattern of sorts, doesn't it, hmm?"
"Does it?" Vicki frowned.
"However, my dear, we have a far more pressing problem on our hands."
"Do we?"
He nodded. "Apparently the Doge wishes to see us this morning.
Now, I don't know whether he has ever met Cardinal Bellarmine or not. If he hasn't, then I have to try and pretend to be a confidant of the Pope. If he has, then I'm afraid all of our geese are cooked."
Vicki was about to say something when the door opened again and a haggard, unshaven figure entered. "Steven!" she cried. He looked terrible, and he was wearing different clothes to the ones he had left in - velvet trousers and a brown velvet jacket, embroidered with a maze-like pattern and with a laced shirt beneath.
"Where have you been?" the Doctor snapped. "We've been worried sick."
Vicki glanced over at him. The Doctor hadn't seemed worried when he entered the room. Catching her questioning glance, he winked at her. Obviously he wanted to teach Steven a lesson.
"I've been... " Steven hesitated for a moment. "... researching the parts we're supposed to be playing."
"And how precisely have you been doing that, hmm?"
Steven winced at the harshness of the Doctor's voice. Even from where she stood by the window, Vicki could smell the alcohol on Steven's breath. "I've been out drinking with Galileo Galilei," he said finally.
The Doctor had the good grace to look abashed. "Well, that's different," he said. "You appear to have made more progress than we have. What sort of person is he, by the way?"
Steven shrugged. "He can drink like a fish and he thinks he's God's gift to science," he said. "But why not find out for yourself?
He's invited