The Empire of Glass - Andy Lane [79]
"Quickly," the Doctor called, "we must get to Braxiatel before those other ships arrive." He scuttled over the side of the boat, and Galileo heard the splash seconds later as he hit the water.
Shakespeare was standing uncertainly in the bows. Abandoning the tiller, Galileo ran to the side and dived over without a moment's thought. He caught a confused glimpse of a stretch of smooth sand and a knot of etiolated figures who were already hauling the Doctor out of the water before the surface rose up to embrace him.
For a few confused moments everything was grey and bubbly, and there was a rushing noise in his ears, and then what felt like twigs fastened on his arms and tugged him out of the water.
The Doctor was standing, bedraggled, on the sand. Two thin, horned figures were holding him, and a third was pointing its horn at his chest. They were identical to the creature that had overturned the Doctor's boat when he and Galileo had gone to fetch the Doctor's telescope. Two more of the creatures were hauling Galileo up the beach to join the Doctor.
"Take me to your leader," the Doctor said imperiously, drawing himself up and brushing sand from his lapels. "I have to see Braxiatel."
One of the stick-creatures leaned close to Galileo's ear. "I promised we'd meet later," it hissed.
For some reason, the first thought to cross his mind was the hope that Steven Taylor was having better luck as Galileo than he was.
"What do you mean, an explosion?" Vicki said. "Take me back to the island, Albrellian. This is going too far." She leaned forward to the controls, but Albrellian reached across with a claw and nipped her gently on the back of her hand. Blood welled up in the crescent-shaped cut, and she jerked her hand away. A tingling feeling spread up her arm and through her chest and she fell backward into the chair. Waves of tiredness lapped at the edges of her mind, and she had to use all her force of will to keep her eyes open and not slip into sleep.
"Sorry about that am I," Albrellian said. "A genetically engineered toxin, afraid am I - the only thing past Braxiatel's scanners could get I. Afford to have interfere with plans my you cannot I." His eyestalks dipped slightly, as if even he was confused by his tortured syntax.
Vicki's thoughts had to force their way through a thick, treacly miasma. "What... Are... You... Doing?" she said, articulating the words separately and forcing them past her uncooperative lips.
Albrellian's foreclaws moved across the skiff's controls. One set of eyestalks was directed at the darkening viewscreen while the other was pointed at Vicki. "Afraid guilty of a little deceit have been I," he said. "Of you, of Braxiatel and of the envoys."
Vicki opened her mouth to ask what sort of deception, but Albrellian raised a claw to her mouth.
"Speak try not to," he said. "The effects of the toxin for a while will last. An explanation for all the things put you through have I owe you I." His eyestalks dipped slightly, as if he was ashamed of himself. "Explain that my race - the Greld - are represented at the Armageddon Convention not because at war with anyone are we, and not because ever likely to be are we, but because supply weapons to races that are do we, should I. Arms dealers are we, and much of economy towards research and development of bigger and better devices of destruction is dedicated our.
Speciality that is our. If plans to fruition of Braxiatel's come, and agreements about what can and can't be used there are, then redundant will become we. Best weapons, most expensive technologies, will not be required our. Cannot happen let that, can we?"
"Sab... otage," Vicki stammered.
"Exactly," Albrellian said. "Intelligent as well as beautiful - knew the right choice had made did I." His eyestalks perked up. "The biggest obstacle security precautions was Braxiatel's - the sensor systems that from the legendary lost Aaev race purchased did he any weapon, no matter how small, can detect, and whatever ship