Chapter Twelve

"Well," Steven muttered to himself as he stood in a small niche on the stairs that led up to the Doge's chambers, "here goes nothing." His voice was lost amid the muted roar of conversation from the crowd bustling up and down the great marble steps and along the wooden corridors. The huge portraits around the wall gazed down on him with unreadable expressions. His palms were moist, his stomach was fluttering, and his muscles felt so weak that he kept expecting the telescope tucked beneath his arm to fall and smash on the steps. He hadn't felt this nervous since he had ridden his ship down in flames, surrounded by Krayt fighters, watching the indicator lights on the control board explode one by one, hearing the grinding noise as the rocket engines tore loose from their mountings.

Glancing around to ensure that none of the courtiers, petitioners and general hangers-on were paying him any attention, he casually slid his fingers down his tunic to his belt. For a moment he couldn't locate the small metal device that the Doctor had given him. His fingers scrabbled around the leather strap, frantically searching for the damned thing. If it had fallen off he might just as well find a nice little set of rooms overlooking a canal and settle down, because the Doctor would never let him back on the TARDIS again. Not if he screwed up Galileo's big presentation.

His little finger touched cold metal. Sighing with relief, he closed his hand over the device, feeling the raised stud beneath his palm. The thing must have slid around the belt when he brushed against someone in the crowd.

Well, he'd have to go through with it now.

Before he could change his mind, he closed his eyes and pressed the stud. When he opened them again, nothing had changed. The corridor still looked the same. The people still looked the same.

He raised his right hand and looked at it. Well, that didn't look the same. It was thicker, the fingers longer, and the veins that snaked across its back were more knotted and purple. It was Galileo's hand, projected from the image that the Doctor had scanned into the device earlier on. Steven raised his left hand and touched his right hand with his left forefinger. It felt the same as it always had, but then, he supposed that it would. After all, it was just a hologram. His hand was still underneath the image, like a face beneath a mask. The only giveaway was the fact that the image of his forefinger disappeared into the image of his right hand by a few millimetres before he could actually feel them touch, because his fingers were shorter than Galileo's.

He was wasting time. Taking a deep breath, Steven tucked the telescope tighter under his arm and walked firmly up the stairs. The quicker he did this, the sooner he'd be out.

The vibrant green of the island stood out against the blue sea like an emerald against velvet. Vicki watched its approach wide-eyed, her breath held.

"This is a beautiful place," she whispered.

"I know," Braxiatel murmured, glancing up from the controls. "I can see why the Doctor prefers Earth to anywhere else."

It had never occurred to Vicki before, but Braxiatel was right. The Doctor did seem to spend an awful lot of time on or near Earth. "I suppose you're right, but with all of time and all of space to wander through, why choose Earth?"

Braxiatel shrugged. "There are lots of reasons why your race are of interest to our race. Your curiosity, your ability to apply yourself to any problem or situation, your sheer persistence and adaptability, your -" He paused, and smiled slightly. "Well, there are things that I'm afraid I can't actually tell you about your past, and your future. Suffice it to say that we feel for humanity as a father might feel towards a rather wayward daughter."

Vicki felt her heart thud slightly harder in her chest. No matter how often she thought she would get used to it, the pain attached to the memories surprised her. She watched the approaching landing pad, trying to wipe her mind clean of the grief, but the prickle of approaching tears in her eyes made her turn her head away from Braxiatel.

"I've hurt your feelings," Braxiatel said softly. "I'm sorry." He removed his half-moon glasses and began to polish them with a small cloth that he took from his pocket. "Please accept my apologies," he said, not looking at her. "I have an unfortunate habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time."

"No," Vicki protested, and stifled a sob, "please - it's not your fault. It's just..." She took a deep breath and tried to calm her churning stomach. "My father died. He was killed in an explosion on the planet Dido. That's where the Doctor found me. I still dream about him sometimes, but you weren't to know."

As the skiff settled gently upon the landing pad, Braxiatel reached out to pat her hand. "I apologize anyway," he said. "Now, let's try and find the Doctor and tell him you're all right, shall we?"

Vicki nodded. "Can you - do you mind if I follow on in a moment? I want to collect my thoughts."

Braxiatel nodded. "Of course," he said quietly. I'll be in the main hall when you're ready, and we can go and find the Doctor."

"Your explanation is as subtle and as illuminating as ever, Signor Galileo," the Doge said in his dry, quiet voice.

Behind him loomed a vast painting of scantily dressed ladies and plump lions. "To think, that such a simple device, so cheap and so easy to construct, could do all that you claim. It is truly a marvel."

Around him, the Doge's advisers nodded wisely. They were wearing black and, in the shadows of the Hall of the Ante-College, their heads seemed to float in mid-air. The nods of agreement rippled outward to the Council of Ten, then to the Sages of the Order who commanded the great Venetian navy. At least, that was who Steven thought they were. Galileo had been a little the worse for wear when he explained the set-up to Steven, and some of the details had been a little confused.

One of the men that surrounded the Doge - a tall man with a thin face and a great beak of a nose - glared down at Steven. Beneath the hologram, Steven felt patches of sweat-sodden cloth shift clammily against his skin. Had the man penetrated the disguise?

"Your... your Serenity is most gracious," Steven said, bowing so low that the telescope under his arm poked up above his head. Although the Doge's tone had been calm and measured, there was something about his words that Steven didn't like. What had he said? "So cheap and so easy to make." Galileo had warned Steven not to underestimate the Doge's business acumen. He was implying that Galileo's telescope was hardly a discovery at all - just a tool like a screwdriver that could be built by anybody at all. And if he continued along that route, Galileo wouldn't get any money at all. "This spyglass is, as you say, simple and easy to construct from materials which are easily available," Steven blurted, "but so are the works of... of any writer of antiquity that you care to name. Words are available to anyone, and paper is common, but it takes genius to create a work of literature. In the same way, it takes genius to think of a spyglass, even though a fool may buy all the parts."

The Doge nodded, and another ripple of agreement spread through the crowd around his throne. "Of course," he continued, "you will be aware from your friend, Friar Sarpi, that a Flemish gentleman has lately been importuning this Senate to buy an instrument similar to the one that you possess. He has asked one thousand florins for it. We are intrigued by the idea, but with the device itself I was barely able to make out the details of the paintings at the far end of this room."

One of his advisers immediately pointed over Steven's shoulder. Turning, Steven could make out a large canvas that seemed to consist of blue sky, white clouds and pink cherubs with trumpets. Another trap. The Doge was simultaneously warning Steven that Galileo was not the only man with a telescope, that he wasn't terribly impressed with the telescope that he had seen and that price was a definite issue. Galileo had warned Steven about this.

"Your Serene Highness," Steven began, "this adventurer-" which was the description that Galileo had spat out earlier"- possesses an inferior model which can make objects appear to be only one third of their actual distance away, and as such is little more than a toy. My spyglass, by contrast, makes things appear to be one tenth of their actual distance away, and is fit for a range of... er ... military applications, for instance."

"Military applications?" The Doge leaned forward, suddenly interested. His advisers, the Council of Ten and the Sages of the Order all leaned forward as well.

"Indeed." Steven's mouth was dry, and he had to suck hard on his cheeks to provide enough saliva to continue. "With this spyglass, a watcher in the tower in the square outside -" whatever it was called, he thought desperately "- could see an invading fleet as it came over the horizon, rather than when it was almost on top of you."

The Doge nodded. "Indeed, an invention to rival the military compass that you designed. I would see this spyglass demonstrated on ships rather than paintings. Let us remove ourselves to -" he smiled slightly "- the tower in the square outside, which we Venetians refer to as the bell-tower of St Mark's. There we will test your claims against the fishing boats as they return for the night."

Steven breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed to be working.

And then he caught sight of the hawk-nosed Councillor glaring down at him, and his mouth went dry again.

The mist had closed in around them like the gauze backcloths of the Globe Theatre, and Shakespeare found himself thinking that he would have to have words with Burbage about the way he portrayed stormy seas on stage. Those billowing sheets, streaked with green and blue, that Burbage thought looked like waves were too dramatic. Far too dramatic. The waves here in the lagoon were more like the gently rolling hills of Stratford-upon-Avon, but the way they made the tiny boat pitch and toss was almost beyond credibility. Waves the size of Burbage's would have overturned the boat before they'd even got out of sight of land.

He glanced along the deck of the boat, and was annoyed to see the Doctor standing by the mast, his white hair billowing in the wind like a miniature of the billowing sail above his head, looking for all the world as if he were enjoying himself. Shakespeare was sick to his stomach. After all, he'd only just stepped off the boat from England, and he had been looking forward to a few days standing on dry land. Venice wasn't exactly dry land, of course, but it was an acceptable substitute.

A gull flew close overhead, and Shakespeare cursed at it.

"What was that?" Galileo shouted from his position by the tiller.

"Nothing of import," Shakespeare shouted back.

"Coming into port? But we've barely been out half an hour." Galileo's beard bristled angrily. "If that's a slur on my navigation, I'll have your liver and lights Master Shake-Shaft!"

"What I said was -" Shakespeare sighed. "Oh, never mind. It's not worth going to war over."

"Having a bit of trouble making yourself understood?" the Doctor asked, glancing over his shoulder with a superior smile on his face.

"I confess, Doctor, that I do not understand why I am here." Shakespeare scowled as best he could, but it turned into a clownish grimace as a spray of sea water hit him in the face.

"I thought I had made it all perfectly clear," the Doctor said. "We are seeking the island of Laputa, where I believe my companion to be held."

"That's all very well," Shakespeare snapped, "but it doesn't explain what I am doing here, especially while Kit Marlowe is wandering around Venice. I have a mission to fulfil for my Monarch."

The Doctor ran his thumbs under his lapels and cocked his head to one side. "If, as you explained, you have been instructed to seek the representatives of some foreign empire and do business with them, then I suspect that you may find them on Laputa. Although -" and he chuckled "- you may discover that they are from an empire that does not lie on any of the standard trade routes."

Shakespeare was about to reply when something loomed up out of the mist ahead: a sketchy shape, a darker shadow against the grey veils, like a piece of scenery forgotten and unlit behind a backcloth. "What is that?" he cried as it became clearer - a fabulous, fantastic city of cloud-capped towers, gorgeous palaces, solemn temples, great globes and slender spires, paths that hung in mid-air and stairways that moved by themselves, like Jacob's ladder. "Is it... is it heaven?"

"No, it's Laputa," the Doctor said with satisfaction. "Mister Galileo, prepare to make land."

"Aye, Doctor," Galileo shouted from the stern of the boat. "But I warn you, we have company."

Shakespeare and the Doctor both turned to face Galileo. The bearded Venetian was pointing off to one side, to where a patch of mist had been cleaved by the bows of another boat. And beside it, another. And beyond that, a third. Figures moved on their decks, clad in stark black cloth. Shakespeare strained his eyes. Perhaps it was the mist, but they looked like corpses, freshly animated, staring blindly ahead. The wind whipped the sea-spray into their faces, but they didn't blink, or wipe their eyes. And as the wind carried their boats closer, Shakespeare was unsurprised to see the weeping sores that covered their exposed skin.

The bell tower was set on the edge of the crowded market-place that was St Mark's Square, a few hundred yards from the edge of the lagoon. Stalls selling foods, sweets, trinkets and pets were gathered around its base like ducklings around their mother. As he emerged from the Doge's palace, Steven breathed in the scented air, and the mingled scents of wood smoke, incense, cooked meat made him dizzy for a moment. Past the edge of the quay, the surface of the water was bright with momentary flickers of light as the sun caught the tops of the waves. The ornate prows of the gondolas that were tied to the wooden piers nodded one by one as the waves lifted them, like a row of penitent priests.

Steven sighed as he remembered arriving at one of those piers. How long ago had it been? One day? Two? It seemed that when you were a time traveller, time lost all meaning to you. Events seemed to crowd together until your life was a succession of freeze-frames: run, hide, fight, run, hide, fight. He was tired. He wanted to stop, just for a while. Just for a rest.

The Doge's guards pushed past him and began clearing a path through the crowds of Venetians and foreign travellers. Two of them appeared to have acquired a horse from somewhere, and were leading it over. Steven gazed up the crumbling red brick of the bell tower. This was it. Make or break.

"Please, lead the way," the Doge's dry voice murmured behind him. Steven took a deep breath, and walked across the flagstones towards the portico. He could feel the eyes of the crowd on him as he walked. No doubt they were wondering what he was doing there. He was beginning to wonder the same thing himself.

At the portico he turned to see the Doge and his advisers following like a row of chicks. The black-clad advisers were bent over as they walked, and their little nodding heads reminded him of the gondolas. He sniggered, and the Doge shot him a dark glance.

"My apologies," Steven muttered, coughing into his handkerchief.

"The belfry is small," the Doge said. "You will demonstrate your spyglass to us one at a time." He gestured to one of the guards. "Starting with me."

After an uncomfortable moment while Steven waited for someone to go first, he realized that he should be leading the way. The shadowed portico led immediately onto a narrow ramp that spiralled around the inside of the tower. Bell ropes hung down its centre. Steven began to climb. Within ten steps his calf muscles were beginning to ache and within twenty his breath was hissing in his ears. By the time he got to thirty steps he could feel the thudding of his pulse in his ears and he had lost track of how many revolutions around the tower he had made.

By the time he got to the top of the bell tower, sweat was running down his face. He stood in the cold breeze for a moment, his eyes closed, the sound of the crowd far below just a murmur in his ears. When he opened his eyes, he found himself on a square wooden platform surrounded by stone pillars and topped with a pointed roof in which bells gleamed. Through the pillars Steven could see all the way across Venice. Gilded domes and roofs glowed in the sunlight while whitewashed walls were tinted a rosy pink. Flocks of pigeons wheeled and swooped in a pattern too large to appreciate from any aspect except above. Beyond the city, beyond the island, the view reached to the distant white-capped mountains in one direction and the mist that hid the far reaches of the lagoon in the other.

Steven's heart was still thudding in his ears, and he took a deep breath to calm it down. It didn't help: the pounding just got louder. For a moment he started to panic, until he realized that the wooden platform of the bell tower was vibrating in time to the thudding. He turned towards the source of the noise when, from the dark hole in the floor that led to the ramp, the Doge appeared. On a horse, led by one of his guards.

"Have you been up here before?" he murmured, not making any effort to dismount.

"Er... no, your most Serene Highness," Steven stammered.

The Doge raised his eyes and gazed upward, into the pointed roof. "But you must have heard these bells ring out across Venice, tolling sunrise, noon and sundown, calling councillors to Council and senators to Senate?"

"Of course, your most Sere-"

"That one, over there," he continued, cutting across Steven's words and indicating the smallest bell, "is called the Maleficent. It's the one we use to signal executions." He smiled. "Please - your demonstration."

Steven's hands shook as he took the telescope from inside his jacket. "If you place the spyglass against your eye, your most Serene Excellency, and look out across the lagoon..."

The Doge took the telescope from Steven's outstretched hand and raised it to his eye. For a moment he gazed out of the bell tower and across the water. Steven turned to follow the line of the telescope. Far, far away, mere specks against the background of the sea mist, he could just make out the sail of a small ship. With Galileo's telescope, the Doge should have been able to recognize the faces of the crew, and Steven's heart missed a beat as he suddenly realized that the ship might be the one that the Doctor was sailing on, and the Doge might be staring straight into the unmistakable features of Galileo Galilei. That would sink his plans for good.

The Doge lowered the spyglass from his eye. His face was thunderous.

Steven prepared to sprint down the ramp as fast as he could, and hoped to God that he could outpace the Doge's guard.

"This device is worse than the one demonstrated to us by the Flemish merchant," the Doge said. "It is a toy fit only for children. Friar Sarpi has misled us, and both you, and he, will pay for wasting my time."

The guard rested a hand on his sword. Through his helmet, Steven could see a smile of anticipation on his face. "Ah - your most Serene and... and Munificent Highness . .." he stammered, dredging up all of the flattery and flannel that he had ever heard, "I beg you to-"

Something about the telescope that the Doge was holding caught his eye. Something about its shape. Surely... surely when Galileo had demonstrated it to Steven, he had held the narrower lens against his eye and pointed the wider lens at the sky. The Doge appeared to have been holding it the other way around.

"Perhaps," he said hesitantly, "we could try it one more time...?"

When Braxiatel had gone, and Vicki could see him on the viewscreen, walking across the white surface of the Laputan landing pad towards the nearest tower, Vicki wiped a hand across her eyes. It came away wet, and her cheeks were suddenly cool as the thin film of tears began to evaporate. Memories were like minefields, she decided - you had to pick your way carefully across them, and sometimes you stepped on something unexpected and it exploded beneath you. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

And opened them again as something scrabbled in the hatchway. She twisted in her seat. The headrest was in the way, and she had to slide sideways before she could see round it.

Into a pair of eyes on stalks.

"Albrellian!" she squealed. "You startled me!"

"Vicki." Albrellian"s voice was neutral. "Better your safety belt fasten had you: for a bumpy ride in are we."

"What do you mean?"

Instead of answering, Albrellian swung bis crab-like body into the seat that Braxiatel had vacated only a few moments before. The seat automatically adjusted itself to the odd contours of his body and wing-casings, and he ran his multiple claws across the controls.

"Albrellian, what's going on?" Anger sharpened Vicki's voice. "If this is another attempt at kidnapping me, Braxiatel won't be pleased."

The skiff shot straight up into the air, so fast that the ripple of turbulence was replaced within moments by a sudden explosive bang! as they broke the sound barrier. Vicki watched the screen disbelievingly as Laputa dwindled and vanished beneath them.

"Even less pleased will be Braxiatel," Albrellian announced grimly, "when precious little island sanctuary in one great explosion disappears his!"

"An explosion?" Vicki couldn't assimilate the word. "What do you - I mean - an explosion? When?"

One of Albrellian's eyestalks rotated to glance at her. "In a few minutes" time," he said. "That's why leaving we are."

Steven gazed out across the roofs of Venice, watching pigeons wheel against the deep blue of the sky. The breeze off the sea was cool, and the crowds far below were just multi-coloured dots that surged randomly to and fro, like bacteria under a microscope.

He leaned against one of the columns and relished the cold stone against his forehead. The last little knots of tension were finally untangling inside his stomach. The Doge had finally accepted that the telescope worked. More than that, he had instantly grasped the military applications and had promised Galileo an increase in salary, a bonus and an extension of his tenure at the University of Padua. Hopefully it would be enough to satisfy both the Doctor and the real Galileo.

It was all plain sailing from here. All Steven had to do was to demonstrate the telescope to the Doge's advisers and the Council and Senate members, one by one, until either they were all satisfied or darkness had fallen. He had talked five of them through it so far, and he could hear the horse that was bearing the sixth heading up the spiral ramp now.

Steven turned as the horse placidly entered the belfry, being led by the guard. As the man on it dismounted, Steven held out the telescope to him.

"This, esteemed Sir, is my -"

"I care not about your baubles," the man snapped. For the first time Steven actually looked at his face, and he felt his heart give two quick beats. It was the hawk-nosed man who had been glaring at him in the Hall of the Ante-College.

"I - Sir, I do not -"

"Save your stammering apologies," the man said, sneering. He stepped towards Steven, who backed away until he could feel the stone balustrade against the back of his thighs. The guard and the horse looked on from across the belfry without showing any signs of wanting to interfere.

"I am Tomasso Nicolotti," the man said. "You killed my son by poison. I am persuaded that you have the trappings of a gentleman, even though you are scum in the pay of the Castellanis, and so I challenge you to a duel. Be at the Church of St Trovaso when the bells in this tower strike the end of the day." He smiled. "Or I shall hunt you down and kill you like the dog that you are."