The Empire of Glass - Andy Lane [67]
"Can we cut the reminiscences?" Steven snarled. "I know you two guys have got a lot to catch up on, but we need to find the Doctor.
He has to know what you've both told me."
"And what is that, hmm?" a voice said from behind them all.
Steven blinked, surprised, as the Doctor swept into the room.
Reaching the centre of the room he turned to face the group. His face was imperious, and the light from the window back-lit his head, turning his long white hair into a glowing halo. "Now, before you say anything, I have something to tell you all, and it concerns -
" He paused, and glanced from Marlowe to Shakespeare and back again. "Steven, who are these companions of yours? I hope you haven't been wasting time while Vicki is undergoing heaven knows what ordeals in drinking and carousing with disreputable companions?"
"Sorry?" Steven asked.
"I asked you -" He stopped and glanced to Steven's side. "Surely you are William Shakespeare, are you not?" he enquired.
Shakespeare bowed low. "Honoured to make your acquaintance, sir," he murmured. "And doubly honoured that you know my face, when I do not recall ever having met you. Although -"
"Yes?" the Doctor said.
Shakespeare frowned slightly. "You do not have a younger brother, do you? Tall, with curled brown hair and as strange a taste in clothes as your own?"
"I do not," the Doctor replied. "Why do you ask?"
"You put me in mind of him. I never knew his name, but he gave me some small assistance with writing out Hamlet when my wrist was sprained. I thought perchance he had described me to you."
"No, no," the Doctor said. "I saw your face on the Space-Time Vis -
ah -" he caught himself "- drawn in a pamphlet which came my way describing the great playwrights of London." As Shakespeare bowed again, the Doctor quickly turned to Steven's other companion. "And you, sir? Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"
"This is Giovanni Zarattino -" Steven closed his eyes and sighed.
"No, it isn't. This is actually Christopher Marlowe, who apparently should be dead but isn't, and used to write plays but is now a spy."
"Well," the Doctor said, clapping his hands together, "thank you for making it all perfectly clear. I am the Doctor, of course, and this,"
he gestured towards the door, "is Galileo Galilei."
Steven turned again towards the door, and couldn't help smiling as he saw Galileo standing there, a half-empty bottle of wine in his hand. Galileo waved it at Shakespeare and Marlowe, and nodded at Steven.
"Now, Steven," the Doctor snapped before anybody could interrupt, "Galileo and I have traced the spacecraft from the moon to a point out in the lagoon. We intend rowing out there tonight to determine precisely what is at that point. I anticipate that we will find this Laputa of which Albrellian spoke, and I believe that Vicki will be held prisoner there. We fully intend to rescue her."
"Wait, Doctor," Galileo cried, and took another swig of wine. Tiny rills of red-hued liquid ran down either side of his mouth. Judging by the matted state of his beard, a lot of what he had already drunk had gone the same way. "I have an appointment with the Doge. I have a ... a spyglass to demonstrate. Can't afford to miss it.
Doesn't do to make the Doge angry, you know."
"I need you with me, Mr Galileo," the Doctor said in a tone that brooked no argument. "Your incisive mind could prove to be invaluable. Steven can use the hologuise generator and pretend to be you while we are -"
"Doctor," Steven interrupted, "Marlowe and I saw a space shuttle come out of a house here