David Llewellyn - Trace Memory

'Harkness…' said Cromwell, but the man did not acknowledge him. Instead, he got to his feet and walked away, past the ruins of the warehouse, past Lucy, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind him.

'Jack?' called Cromwell, but it was too late.

Jack Harkness was gone.

Jack's office was silent but for the whirr of his computer. He hadn't spoken in perhaps a minute. Ianto leaned back against one of Jack's archaic filing cabinets, drumming his fingers on one of the metal drawer fronts, and sighed.

'But Valentine?' he said. 'Why did they wipe all his records?'

'Embarrassment?' said Jack. 'Desperation? I don't know. They were different times. There weren't just aliens and the Rift to think of.'

Jack was quiet now. He wasn't in the mood for questions. As he'd told Ianto about the events at the KVI substation, he'd glanced occasionally at his monitor, and at the image of Michael, sleeping. The whole night had felt like a cruel dream; the kind of dream you have in which a loved one who has died comes back and, halfway through, you recognise it for what it is: a lie.

'But it's worse than a lie,' thought Jack, 'because it's a lie you tell yourself.'

'So where does this leave us?' asked Ianto.

Jack looked at him quizzically. 'What's that supposed to mean?'

'I mean, if he's here now.

Jack shook his head. 'He won't stay,' he said. 'The guy sleeping down in the Boardroom… None of those things have happened to him yet. He's still alive, for one thing.'

'But maybe you could stop it… I mean…'

'No,' said Jack. 'Not in this universe. In this universe, Michael always goes back to 1967. He always dies.'

'So there's nothing we can-'

'No.'

Ianto thought about this for a moment. He'd been thinking of Lisa, ever since he'd told the others about his encounter with Cromwell at Torchwood One. Those days seemed a lifetime ago, now. Lisa seemed so many lifetimes ago.

'You need to go to him, then,' he said. 'Now, I mean. Go and talk to him. Just… just be with him.'

Jack nodded, and smiled. As he walked out of his office, Ianto caught his hand, and held it for a second before letting go.

'So these Vondrax?' said Gwen. 'They look like people?'

Toshiko shrugged. She was examining the Orb, while Gwen sat at her workstation sipping coffee that was still a little too hot.

'Kind of,' she said. 'I can't remember. Or at least I couldn't remember. Until now.'

'And they wear bowler hats?'

Toshiko nodded.

'But why?' said Gwen. 'Why do you think they wear bowler hats?'

'I don't know. To fit in?'

'It's weird. It just reminds me of something Jack said a while ago. He said that in an infinite universe there must be a planet full of civil servants. Maybe that's the planet they're from…'

Toshiko laughed softly. 'I've seen one of them, Gwen,' she said, 'and they were not civil servants.'

Then she looked at Gwen with an expression serious enough to kill Gwen's smile. She looked strangely scared, as if the memory were enough to still terrify her.

Jack stepped out of his office and walked across the Hub.

'Having fun?' he asked. It was the kind of line that would normally be accompanied by a smile, but he said it softly with little trace of emotion.

Toshiko looked up from the Orb. 'This thing,' she said. 'There's no tech. No moving parts. The metal is a new one on me.'

'Have you named it yet?' asked Jack.

Toshiko frowned. 'What do you mean?'

'Well, it's a new metal. Nothing like it on Earth. You should name it. Something like Toshikinum. Or Torchwoodium, if you're not into the whole egocentric naming thing.'

'Torchwoodium it is,' said Toshiko. 'I just can't figure out how it works. Or rather, how it worked.'

'And I don't think you ever will,' said Jack. 'That thing is probably older than this planet. Maybe older than this solar system. The creatures that made it were working with technology as old as the stars themselves. It's Clarke's Third Law, Tosh. Clarke's Third Law.'

'You said that earlier, Jack. What's Clark's Third Law?'

'I'll tell you some other time,' said Jack. 'I have to go see how our visitor's doing.'

As Jack headed down towards the Boardroom, Toshiko left the Orb on the table and followed him.

'Um, Jack,' she said. 'I've been thinking.

Jack turned. 'About what?'

'Well, about the Vondrax. If they follow Michael, and Michael's here… Well… What do we do if they turn up?'

Jack breathed deeply. He could still see the Vondrax in the underground corridor of the KVI substation, and the bullets passing through them as if they were made of smoke. He'd been immune to them, but the others hadn't been so lucky.

'They don't like mirrors,' he said, glancing across the Hub, and Toshiko followed his gaze.

'I wonder,' said Owen, peering through the glass of the holding cell. 'Do you have regrets? Do you sit in there sometimes and think, "How the bloody hell did I end up here? What did I do to deserve living in this little bloody room a hundred feet below Cardiff?'"

In its cell, Janet was hunched over in one corner, breathing quietly but for the occasional grunt. It was hard to know whether the Weevil was listening to him or not and, if it was, whether it might be able to understand a single word he was saying.

'I wonder what you think of us,' said Owen. 'I mean, apart from as food, obviously. I wonder whether you've got a favourite.'

Janet looked at him, its deep sunken eyes peering out of the shadows, recessive glints of light almost lost behind its gnarled, bestial features.

'I bet I'm your favourite,' said Owen. 'The amount of time I spend down here. Our little chats. Well, I do all the chatting, you just seem to sit there and grunt, but that's OK;

Owen tapped his feet on the floor and laughed softly. Sometimes, when he was down in the Vaults, he'd see himself, as if having an out-of-body experience, and find the whole scenario ridiculous. It was, of course, ridiculous, and yet there was still something strangely comforting about it. Some people paid for therapy. Owen had Janet.

Michael was waking as Jack entered the Boardroom. He sat up on the inflatable mattress, yawned and rubbed his eyes.

'I'm still here,' he said, smiling.

'Yep,' said Jack. 'You're still here.'

Michael looked around the room and then at Jack.

'I wonder how much longer,' he said. 'First time I was only there five minutes. Then the next time it was hours. How long have I been here?'

Jack looked at his watch. 'Just over three hours,' he said. 'It's getting late.'

Michael frowned. 'Is it?' he said. 'I didn't know what time it was. You don't have any windows.'

'No,' said Jack, laughing softly. 'We wouldn't.'

There was a long silence between them, a silence that was strangely comfortable, Michael thought, for two strangers.

'So,' said Jack. 'Are you hungry? Thirsty? Is there anything I can get you?'

'No,' said Michael. 'I'm OK. I'm still a little queasy. It's the… the thing.

When it happens. It always leaves me feeling a bit sick.'

Jack nodded. 'Anything you wanted to do?' he said. 'Maybe watch a little twenty-first-century TV? I mean… It's not that great. Mostly repeats and celebrities dancing. And talent shows.'

'No,' said Michael. 'It's OK.' He paused and then looked up, his face illuminated by an idea. 'Actually, I was thinking. Maybe you could take me outside?'

'I don't know…' he said. 'Maybe it would be better if-'

'Oh please,' pleaded Michael. 'You said we were in Cardiff. I'd like to see what it's like. Now, I mean.'

'OK,' said Jack. 'You win. But no running off anywhere. And you'd better prepare yourself for a bit of a shock.'

Ten minutes later, Jack and Michael were standing on the platform at the base of the water tower.