Sleeping Dragons 05 - The Old Terror 07
CHAPTER 07 - VISITATIONS
It was early evening when the teams - sans Sally and her two Privates - came together in The Fox Inn again to evaluate what little they had been able to learn. And it was depressingly little indeed.
“Whatever is going on in the UNIT labs, it’s very hush-hush,” Owen summarised for the ‘Nessie team’. “Not even Captain Price could find out much, and she’s one of the two team leaders. Her team is examining some random cybernetic parts she has no idea where the retrieval teams are getting from. She’s quite sure they’re not part of Cyberman technology, though. She’s seen that up and close at Canary Wharf.”
“I think we can help where the parts came from,” Jenny said grimly. “The Skarasen has been damaged. Something - or somebody - tore pieces from various parts of its body.”
“That would be one possibility,” Sarah Jane agreed, “but I can hardly imagine any weapon that could do that to the Loch Ness monster… to use the popular term.”
“Actually, there’s one that I know of,” Trevor looked at Owen. “I assume you know why Toshiko was sent to prison.”
“Owen nodded. “Yeah. The sonic weapon she built, based on faulty plans; only that her model actually worked.”
“That’s a proper genius for you,” Trevor commented with a shrug. “Anyway, UNIT confiscated the prototype when she was arrested. No-one knows what happened to it… or to the plans she’d modified. Not even Jonesy. I know 'cause I asked.”
“And you think the retrieval teams of Major Blake using it against the… against Nessie?” Jenkins asked doubtfully.
Trevor shrugged again. “Sonic technology is based on vibrations. Cybertech, on the other hand, is vulnerable to vibrations. And since they already had both the plans and the prototype, they could have improved it - or made more weapons. Why, Toshiko built another one for Jack from memory only. Using her plans would make the construction a piece of cake.”
Lloyd nodded. “That makes sense. It would also mean that the DNA samples the other lab is examining might come from the Skarasen, too.” Unlike the others, she refused to call the highly advanced alien cyborg Nessie. She was a scientist and a consummated professional, after all. ”Its organic parts have been damaged, too. And UNIT - at least certain high-ranking officers of UNIT - clearly knew about its existence, from last time Ms Smith and the Doctor had to deal with the Zygons.”
“Those documents underlie the highest security lock,” Jenkins reminded her.
“There’s no absolute safety, just incapable hackers,” Owen said dismissively. “I’m sure that either Tosh or Trevor here could break into UNIT’s secure files; not to mention Jenny and her little sonic gizmo. Besides, if someone is high enough in the UNIT ranks, they can even look into these files legally. What I don’t understand is this sudden interest in Nessie. What do they want from her… it… and why now, decades later?”
“They might to reverse-engineer the technology,” Trevor suggested.
Owen shook his head. “Why would they want more cybernetic dinosaurs roaming the countryside? As tourist attraction? Or are they planning to open a theme park?”
“Hardly,” Trevor snorted. “I doubt that they’d want to copy the form. Organic or even cybernetic technology is still in its early days where Earth knowledge is concerned. If they manage to understand the technology, however, they can build anything on that basis. Anything they want: weapons, cybernetic soldiers… you name it and they’ll be able to build it.”
“Which could take us back to the possibility of raising a cyber-army,” Owen said grimly. “Different technology, the same disastrous results.”
“There’s another thing,” Jenkins added. “Captain Price mentioned some kind of wrecked ship on the bottom of the Loch that the diving teams haven’t been able to enter yet,” he turned to Sarah Jane. “Could it possibly be that Zygon ship you’ve visited with Uncle Harry?”
Sarah Jane shook her head. “No. The Doctor managed to activate the self-destruct device of that ship and it practically fall apart into atoms.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Quite sure. The Brigadier had teams search the Loch afterwards - they wanted to capture Nessie - but all they found was a heap of scrap metal. All organic and cybernetic parts were… ionized, I think, was the word he used. Whatever’s lying on the bottom of the Loch now, it must have landed - or crashed - afterwards.”
“A crash would have drawn more attention,” Jenkins pointed out. “So, unless Sir Archibald has Retconned half the population around here, that ship must have landed secretly and on its own.”
“As far as I know Archie has never used Retcon,” Owen said. “He never had the reason for it. Nothing ever happens in his territory.”
“Apparently, there’s a lot more happening than we thought,” Lloyd replied. “Which raises the question: why hasn’t Sir Archibald built a proper team long ago? Since he clearly cannot even keep the Loch and the Skarasen under proper surveillance on his own.”
Owen grinned. “Archie is a great guy; and he’s very useful 'cause of his contacts especially now that Colonel Oduya seems to be out for our blood. But he’s also a lazy git and easily distracted by his numerous hobbies. That’s why Teaboy assigned Maggie to him: to keep the Archives of Two up to date. More agents are gonna be hired eventually. Two will become a proper outpost, not just an eccentric nobleman in a posh office. That was the plan anyway.”
“Until Prince William came to the glorious idea of re-establishing Torchwood Four without consulting Jonesy first,” Trevor added, insulted for Ianto’s sake.
Owen nodded, still grinning. “And Teaboy will have words with him about it. I’d so love to be a fly on the wall when that happens. Billy the Fish won’t even know what hit him!”
“I don’t think insulting our liaison to the Palace would be such a good idea,” Lloyd commented.
“Oh, he’ll be very polite,” Owen laughed. “Unfailingly polite and dripping with acid, I guess. Or he’ll send Harkness directly to the Queen to complain.”
“And that would help?” Jenkins asked doubtfully.
“Oh, yes. Jack used to bounce Her Royal Majesty on his knee when she was a little girl. And he saved her life at least twice as I know of. Why do you think Three is still standing?”
“Despite the fact that Jack ran away with the Doctor half a year or so ago,” Sarah Jane added,
“Almost a full year by now,” Owen corrected, “as he was gone for months. That was when Her Royal Majesty made Teaboy the boss; he was the one who knew all the codes and passwords. Not just the ones for Cardiff but those for One, too.”
“It must have been awkward to the extreme when Jack returned,” Sarah Jane said.
Owen nodded in agreement. “At first, yeah. Especially as Teaboy had completely reorganized the working of Tree by then, based on One’s directions. But they arranged themselves fairly quickly. Teaboy made Jack the field commander and Tosh the head geek, while he kept the Archives and administration. It’s worked like a charm ever since.”
“But the final decision is still Jonesy’s in all things,” Trevor supplied.
Owen nodded again. “That is right. Which is why he’s gonna visit Torchwood House… just about now: to take a look at the shiny new Torchwood Four team that has been established without his knowledge. And Archie, too, will have to learn what it means no longer being trustworthy in the eyes of his boss.”
“What do you mean?” Sarah Jane asked with a frown.
“Archie did go behind Teaboy’s back in the case of Four,” Owen explained grimly. “That isn’t something he should have done.”
“But he was under orders,” Lloyd reminded him.
Owen shook his head. “Archie answers to Teaboy first and to the Crown only after that. If he believes he can switch his priorities just 'cause he has Sir before his name, he’s got another thing coming. Teaboy’s not impressed by titles and frankly, no-one from the old team is. Well, Tosh might be, just a little; she does have that thing for authority figures. But even she knows whom she owes her loyalty.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
In Torchwood House, meanwhile, the recently minted Torchwood Four team was also having a meeting.
“Have you learned anything?” Dr. Arnold asked her PA.
Miss Chard shook her head apologetically. “I’m sorry, Doctor Arnold. Whatever they were doing in your office, that Miss Jacobs completely erased every trace of it from the system.”
“If they were using our system at all,” Mr. Palmer commented sourly.
Their archivist looked at him in surprise. “Why shouldn’t they? When Director Jones was here last time he used it, too.”
“Yes, but back then he had no reason to mistrust us,” Sergeant Ramsay pointed out. “This Doctor Harper of theirs is a suspicious bastard; and he’s in command of the team right now. I’m sure he instructed Miss Jacobs to keep every piece of new information from us. That’s what I’d have done in his situation.”
“I still can’t understand how they’ve done it,” Dr. Arnold said. “Mobile phones don’t work in Torchwood House; the landline is our only connection to the outside… save for the cable internet, but that’s closely monitored all the time, isn’t it, Janice?”
Miss Chard nodded. “Oh yes, Doctor Arnold. The system automatically saves user protocols.”
“Unless they’ve slipped a Trojan into our system,” Mr. Palmer commented. “It’s no match against the Torchwood Three Mainframe. Nothing on this planet is, now that Headquarters is destroyed.”
“Theoretically, that’s correct,” Dr. Matthews agreed. “However, they had no reason to carry such a virus with them. They didn’t even know about our existence until they came here.”
“How did they do it then?” Dr. Arnold repeated her original question, her frustration obvious.
“Well,” Dr. Matthews shrugged. “Can we be sure that the Torchwood satellite was truly destroyed in the Battle of Canary Wharf?”
“Wouldn’t it have been picked up by planetary surveillance if it still existed?” Sergeant Ramsay frowned.
“Not if it had an in-built camouflage field,” Dr. Matthews replied.
The sergeant shook his head. “Those things are still in the experimental phase.”
“Where UNIT labs are concerned, perhaps,” Dr. Matthews allowed. “Who knows what kind of alien technology Torchwood has harvested since the 19th century, though?”
“Perhaps Mr. Winslet can check his Archives,” Mr. Palmer suggested mildly.
The archivist shook his head. “No, I’m afraid I cannot. The Archives are password-protected. Only Director Jones and Sir Archibald have access to them, since no-one of us is officially registered as Torchwood agents yet.”
“You would be, had anyone bothered to inform me about the reconstruction of Torchwood Four,” a male voice with a slight Welsh lilt said, and in the next moment a tall young man - wearing an impeccable three-piece-suit and leaning on a cane - appeared in the middle of the room.
Graham Winslet was the only one who had met him before, but there could be no real doubt about his identity. Dr. Arnold hurriedly rose from her seat.
“Director Jones,” she said with a polite smile. “We haven’t expected you so soon. Welcome to Torchwood House.”
“Thank you, Doctor Arnold,” the young man - their boss, apparently - hobbled closer and accepted the chair Mr. Winslet hurriedly vacated for him with a grateful nod. “I apologize for the abrupt method of my arrival but, as you can see, I’m still in no shape to take the train… or to drive up by car.”
“How did you get in unnoticed?” Dr. Matthews blurted out excitedly. “Are you wearing a perception filter?”
“As a matter of fact, I am,” Director Jones replied. “Doctor Harper’s hints were somewhat… unsettling, so I decided to take a look at the situation myself,” he looked pointedly at Sergeant Ramsay. “As you put it, Sergeant, he is a suspicious bastard, but he is no fool. I’ve learned to trust his instincts, despite the abrasive manner in which he likes to present his thoughts.”
“Have you spoken to him already?” Dr. Arnold asked.
“Of course. Walking into a potentially dangerous situation without proper intel would be suicidal.”
“Isn’t that what Harkness does all the time?” Mr. Palmer commented snidely. “Of course he can afford it.”
“No, he cannot; and that’s why I’m trying to break him out of the habit,” Director Jones replied, his voice cold like ice. “The times when Torchwood would toss him to the wolves for distraction, just because he can afford it, as you so eloquently put it, Mr. Palmer, are well and truly over. He is invaluable for Torchwood, so I’d appreciate if you could at least fake some respect when speaking of him.”
Mr. Palmer looked as if he were about to give a sharp answer but Dr. Arnold interfered.
“Ross, don’t! We don’t want to start off on the wrong foot, do we?” She turned to their young boss. “Why don’t we relocate to the drawing room and discuss things over a cup of tea like civilized people?”
“He prefers coffee,” Mr. Palmer said smugly.
“What I prefer is if people stay out of my head,” Director Jones returned. “Try it again, and I’ll have you Retconned back to your diapers. It will be interesting to see what a massive memory loss can do to your much-praised psychic abilities.”
“There’s no need to make threats,” Dr. Arnold interfered again.
Director Jones gave her a bland smile. “I do not make threats, Doctor Arnold… unless I’m willing to act on them. Not that Mr. Palmer could go any deeper than the bare surface - I am the last Torchwood One archivist and accordingly trained - but I find it generally unacceptable to poke around in people’s minds uninvited.”
“It was just a stray thought I’ve picked up!” Mr. Palmer said defensively.
“Then you should have kept it to yourself,” came the sharp answer. “If I want people to know about my preferences, I’ll share them myself. That said, while I do indeed prefer coffee, I’ve already had the one coup I’m currently allowed on each day back in Cardiff. Tea, however, would be welcome. This kind of travel leaves one seriously dehydrated.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Thus they relocated to the drawing room, as Dr. Arnold had suggested, and Miss Chard carried in all the tea paraphernalia - including a three-tiered étagère with tea cakes, dainty little sandwiches, custards and the likes - in no time. The first thing Dr. Arnold had done after being established as the custodian of Torchwood House was to hire a really good cook, so that they could have a proper tea-time every day. Not to mention the other, equally important meals.
After his third cup of tea Director Jones visibly relaxed.
“I apologize if I was a little harsh,” he said. “I am still suffering from debilitating headaches, and dehydration only makes them worse. That doesn’t mean I would not be extremely annoyed about a brand new Torchwood team being established without my knowledge, though.”
“You should bring this to Prince William, then,” Dr. Matthews suggested. “It was his idea.”
“Oh, I’ll have a few choice words with him, don’t worry,” Director Jones said darkly. “I haven’t asked for this job; hell, I never wanted this job. It was Her Royal Majesty who made me the Torchwood Director; but if she and Prince William want me to do my job properly, they should not interfere without my knowledge.”
“Sir Archibald was informed, though,” Dr. Arnold said.
“Sir Archibald is not the Torchwood Director; I am,” Director Jones replied. “If I am to integrate all branches successfully, I need to know of everyone who actually belongs to Torchwood.”
“Sir Archibald and Prince William were concerned about the true safety of the so-called safe channels,” Dr. Arnold pointed out.
“And rightly so. I’m quite certain that we’re all watched by Colonel Oduya and his supporters. That’s why we’ve begun to move sensitive stuff to outlying warehouses and have established the secondary Archives. Should Torchwood Three fall and the Hub be destroyed, we can restart somewhere else.”
“A fat lot of good would that do if you’re the only person with access,” Mr. Palmer said.
Director Jones nodded. “That is true. Which is why I’m working on training a successor already. But it’s a long process that will go on for some time yet.”
“Who is it?” Dr. Arnold asked.
“That’s between me and them. Actually, not even that, as they aren’t aware of the fact yet,” Director Jones replied. “It’s better for their own safety.”
“Their?” Dr. Arnold echoed. “You’ve got more than one in training then?”
Director Jones nodded. “I’ve got one in training right now and two other possibilities. It isn’t easy to find the right candidate, though. The demands towards a Torchwood archivist are very high; and unlike One, I don’t have the means to hunt down people with photographic memories. Which would be the ideal condition for an archivist; but we’ll have to make do with what - with whom - we actually have.”
“Believe me, I know the feeling,” Dr. Arnold pulled a face. “I’d trust my team with my life… well, most of them,” she added, with a significant glance in Mr. Palmer’s direction, “but let’s face it, we are a rag-tag band of broken, disgraced people who must be grateful for getting a second chance.”
Director Jones shrugged. “There is nothing wrong with that. It worked well enough for Three. In fact, being underestimated can be a tactical advantage sometimes. I have no problem with who you are; or what you are. I have a problem with the fact that I wasn’t involved in the decision of choosing you for Torchwood and therefore I’m not sure that I can trust you. No offence intended.”
“None taken,” Dr. Arnold found the young man’s brutal honesty refreshing. “We shall endeavour to earn your trust then.”
“And you’ll get the chance right away,” Director Jones said. “My team is here for a specific reason: we need to learn what the recently established secret UNIT lab at Forgill Castle is up to. The plan is to infiltrate the lab with the help of psychic paper,” he turned to Mr. Palmer. “I want you to go there, posing as a UNIT operative, escorting a group of scientist who might be hired for jobs there.”
“What kind of scientists?” Mr. Palmer asked, mildly surprised that the young Torchwood Director would entrust him this highly sensitive task.
“A cyberneticist, a geneticist and Ms Smith, posing as a virologist,” Director Jones explained.
Dr. Arnold frowned. “Isn’t it a risk to send Ms Smith there? She’s quite well-known in certain circles of UNIT.”
“Fortunately, she never had any dealings with either Major Frost or Major Blake,” Director Jones replied. “And she needs to record everything for Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart and Commodore Sullivan.”
“I doubt that they’d allow her to use a camera in there,” Dr. Matthews commented.
“Certainly not; but she has her own equipment that no-one would recognize as a recording device,” Director Jones said. “Having travelled with the Doctor - with several different versions of him - does have its advantage.”
“When do you want us to infiltrate the labs?” Mr. Palmer asked.
Director Jones sighed. “I’d prefer to prepare this task a lot more carefully, but the sad truth is, we don’t have the time. We must find out what they are up to - my people do have their theories, but we can’t act on the foundation of mere guesswork. So you’ll have to go in right tomorrow, I’m afraid.”
“Before Colonel Oduya and his minders realize that we’re on their trail,” Dr. Arnold added grimly.
Director Jones nodded. “Exactly. Ms Smith, Doctor Lloyd and Doctor Howard will fetch Mr. Palmer with a nondescript van bearing a fake registration number. They’ll carry the falsified IDs and orders that will get you into the labs. From that moment on you’ll be on your own. Please don’t take any unnecessary risks; we need information, not martyrs.”
“Don’t worry, Director,” Mr. Palmer said with a condescending smile; the emphasis on the title was worth a medium-weight insult. “I didn’t get so old by being careless.”
Their young boss didn’t take the bait, though.
“Overconfidence comes before the fall, Mr. Palmer,” he said calmly. “Until now, you were always supported by the same people we’re after now. They won’t take your switching sides kindly.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“I wish I could be sure that he really has switched sides,” Dr. Arnold muttered. She was seeing off their boss who did not want to use his mysterious means of transport in front of a larger audience.
Director Jones raised an eyebrow. “You don’t trust your team members?”
“Oh, I do trust them,” she replied grimly. “But Ross Palmer was never actually a member of my team; and he has already deceived us once, which led to the death of two other operatives. I won’t go as far as saying that he caused the death of those people, but had he told us the truth from the beginning, things might have turned out differently.”
“And you accepted him as a co-worker nonetheless?”
“I had no choice, Mr. Jones!” she said angrily. “You can hardly say no when a royal prince pushes somebody on you.”
“Ianto,” her boss corrected. “We aren’t so formal at Three.”
“Call me Sal then,” she replied, relieved that the ice finally seemed to be breaking, at least between the two of them.
“All right, Sal. Do you have any idea why Prince William insisted on ‘pushing Mr. Palmer on you’, as you put it?”
“I believe he hoped that we might profit from the presence of a psychic here,” she said thoughtfully. “And since Mr. Palmer worked with us before - and we even solved the crisis on our hands more or less successfully - His Highness probably thought we’d make a good team.”
“God save us from well-meaning amateurs!” Ianto muttered in exasperation.
Sal nodded in agreement. “I’d vouch for Janice and Graham Winslet without a thought; and I’m reasonably sure that Dan Matthews and Sergeant Ramsay are good, reliable people. I’m doubtful of Ross Palmer, though. He always had very good connections… and not only to the higher ranks of UNIT. I’ll be hones with you, Ianto; I’d sleep a lot better if we could get rid of him.”
“That can be arranged,” he replied. “Not right away, obviously; we’ll need him to infiltrate those labs. But afterwards… I’ll see what we can do. I don’t want him anywhere near our sensitive stuff, either. The man rubs me the worst way.”
“You can really do that?”
“Sure. All we need to do is to make him forget the last couple of months. That’s what Retcon is for.”
“He’d never take it,” Sal warned.
Ianto shrugged. “I’m not going to ask. I doubt that he’d prefer to move into the Torchwood Three Vaults instead, though. Retirement can be quite pleasant, I’m told. Definitely a lot more pleasant than spending the rest of his life in a cell, next to our resident Weevils.”
Sal looked at him warily. She knew what the Weevils were, of course, but…
“You’re more ruthless than I’ve expected you to be,” she said.
“You’re quite new to Torchwood still,” he replied simply. “Given enough time, you’ll learn that being ruthless is the only way to survive. And even so, your chances to grow old and die in your bed peacefully are slim at best.”
It was early evening when the teams - sans Sally and her two Privates - came together in The Fox Inn again to evaluate what little they had been able to learn. And it was depressingly little indeed.
“Whatever is going on in the UNIT labs, it’s very hush-hush,” Owen summarised for the ‘Nessie team’. “Not even Captain Price could find out much, and she’s one of the two team leaders. Her team is examining some random cybernetic parts she has no idea where the retrieval teams are getting from. She’s quite sure they’re not part of Cyberman technology, though. She’s seen that up and close at Canary Wharf.”
“I think we can help where the parts came from,” Jenny said grimly. “The Skarasen has been damaged. Something - or somebody - tore pieces from various parts of its body.”
“That would be one possibility,” Sarah Jane agreed, “but I can hardly imagine any weapon that could do that to the Loch Ness monster… to use the popular term.”
“Actually, there’s one that I know of,” Trevor looked at Owen. “I assume you know why Toshiko was sent to prison.”
“Owen nodded. “Yeah. The sonic weapon she built, based on faulty plans; only that her model actually worked.”
“That’s a proper genius for you,” Trevor commented with a shrug. “Anyway, UNIT confiscated the prototype when she was arrested. No-one knows what happened to it… or to the plans she’d modified. Not even Jonesy. I know 'cause I asked.”
“And you think the retrieval teams of Major Blake using it against the… against Nessie?” Jenkins asked doubtfully.
Trevor shrugged again. “Sonic technology is based on vibrations. Cybertech, on the other hand, is vulnerable to vibrations. And since they already had both the plans and the prototype, they could have improved it - or made more weapons. Why, Toshiko built another one for Jack from memory only. Using her plans would make the construction a piece of cake.”
Lloyd nodded. “That makes sense. It would also mean that the DNA samples the other lab is examining might come from the Skarasen, too.” Unlike the others, she refused to call the highly advanced alien cyborg Nessie. She was a scientist and a consummated professional, after all. ”Its organic parts have been damaged, too. And UNIT - at least certain high-ranking officers of UNIT - clearly knew about its existence, from last time Ms Smith and the Doctor had to deal with the Zygons.”
“Those documents underlie the highest security lock,” Jenkins reminded her.
“There’s no absolute safety, just incapable hackers,” Owen said dismissively. “I’m sure that either Tosh or Trevor here could break into UNIT’s secure files; not to mention Jenny and her little sonic gizmo. Besides, if someone is high enough in the UNIT ranks, they can even look into these files legally. What I don’t understand is this sudden interest in Nessie. What do they want from her… it… and why now, decades later?”
“They might to reverse-engineer the technology,” Trevor suggested.
Owen shook his head. “Why would they want more cybernetic dinosaurs roaming the countryside? As tourist attraction? Or are they planning to open a theme park?”
“Hardly,” Trevor snorted. “I doubt that they’d want to copy the form. Organic or even cybernetic technology is still in its early days where Earth knowledge is concerned. If they manage to understand the technology, however, they can build anything on that basis. Anything they want: weapons, cybernetic soldiers… you name it and they’ll be able to build it.”
“Which could take us back to the possibility of raising a cyber-army,” Owen said grimly. “Different technology, the same disastrous results.”
“There’s another thing,” Jenkins added. “Captain Price mentioned some kind of wrecked ship on the bottom of the Loch that the diving teams haven’t been able to enter yet,” he turned to Sarah Jane. “Could it possibly be that Zygon ship you’ve visited with Uncle Harry?”
Sarah Jane shook her head. “No. The Doctor managed to activate the self-destruct device of that ship and it practically fall apart into atoms.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Quite sure. The Brigadier had teams search the Loch afterwards - they wanted to capture Nessie - but all they found was a heap of scrap metal. All organic and cybernetic parts were… ionized, I think, was the word he used. Whatever’s lying on the bottom of the Loch now, it must have landed - or crashed - afterwards.”
“A crash would have drawn more attention,” Jenkins pointed out. “So, unless Sir Archibald has Retconned half the population around here, that ship must have landed secretly and on its own.”
“As far as I know Archie has never used Retcon,” Owen said. “He never had the reason for it. Nothing ever happens in his territory.”
“Apparently, there’s a lot more happening than we thought,” Lloyd replied. “Which raises the question: why hasn’t Sir Archibald built a proper team long ago? Since he clearly cannot even keep the Loch and the Skarasen under proper surveillance on his own.”
Owen grinned. “Archie is a great guy; and he’s very useful 'cause of his contacts especially now that Colonel Oduya seems to be out for our blood. But he’s also a lazy git and easily distracted by his numerous hobbies. That’s why Teaboy assigned Maggie to him: to keep the Archives of Two up to date. More agents are gonna be hired eventually. Two will become a proper outpost, not just an eccentric nobleman in a posh office. That was the plan anyway.”
“Until Prince William came to the glorious idea of re-establishing Torchwood Four without consulting Jonesy first,” Trevor added, insulted for Ianto’s sake.
Owen nodded, still grinning. “And Teaboy will have words with him about it. I’d so love to be a fly on the wall when that happens. Billy the Fish won’t even know what hit him!”
“I don’t think insulting our liaison to the Palace would be such a good idea,” Lloyd commented.
“Oh, he’ll be very polite,” Owen laughed. “Unfailingly polite and dripping with acid, I guess. Or he’ll send Harkness directly to the Queen to complain.”
“And that would help?” Jenkins asked doubtfully.
“Oh, yes. Jack used to bounce Her Royal Majesty on his knee when she was a little girl. And he saved her life at least twice as I know of. Why do you think Three is still standing?”
“Despite the fact that Jack ran away with the Doctor half a year or so ago,” Sarah Jane added,
“Almost a full year by now,” Owen corrected, “as he was gone for months. That was when Her Royal Majesty made Teaboy the boss; he was the one who knew all the codes and passwords. Not just the ones for Cardiff but those for One, too.”
“It must have been awkward to the extreme when Jack returned,” Sarah Jane said.
Owen nodded in agreement. “At first, yeah. Especially as Teaboy had completely reorganized the working of Tree by then, based on One’s directions. But they arranged themselves fairly quickly. Teaboy made Jack the field commander and Tosh the head geek, while he kept the Archives and administration. It’s worked like a charm ever since.”
“But the final decision is still Jonesy’s in all things,” Trevor supplied.
Owen nodded again. “That is right. Which is why he’s gonna visit Torchwood House… just about now: to take a look at the shiny new Torchwood Four team that has been established without his knowledge. And Archie, too, will have to learn what it means no longer being trustworthy in the eyes of his boss.”
“What do you mean?” Sarah Jane asked with a frown.
“Archie did go behind Teaboy’s back in the case of Four,” Owen explained grimly. “That isn’t something he should have done.”
“But he was under orders,” Lloyd reminded him.
Owen shook his head. “Archie answers to Teaboy first and to the Crown only after that. If he believes he can switch his priorities just 'cause he has Sir before his name, he’s got another thing coming. Teaboy’s not impressed by titles and frankly, no-one from the old team is. Well, Tosh might be, just a little; she does have that thing for authority figures. But even she knows whom she owes her loyalty.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
In Torchwood House, meanwhile, the recently minted Torchwood Four team was also having a meeting.
“Have you learned anything?” Dr. Arnold asked her PA.
Miss Chard shook her head apologetically. “I’m sorry, Doctor Arnold. Whatever they were doing in your office, that Miss Jacobs completely erased every trace of it from the system.”
“If they were using our system at all,” Mr. Palmer commented sourly.
Their archivist looked at him in surprise. “Why shouldn’t they? When Director Jones was here last time he used it, too.”
“Yes, but back then he had no reason to mistrust us,” Sergeant Ramsay pointed out. “This Doctor Harper of theirs is a suspicious bastard; and he’s in command of the team right now. I’m sure he instructed Miss Jacobs to keep every piece of new information from us. That’s what I’d have done in his situation.”
“I still can’t understand how they’ve done it,” Dr. Arnold said. “Mobile phones don’t work in Torchwood House; the landline is our only connection to the outside… save for the cable internet, but that’s closely monitored all the time, isn’t it, Janice?”
Miss Chard nodded. “Oh yes, Doctor Arnold. The system automatically saves user protocols.”
“Unless they’ve slipped a Trojan into our system,” Mr. Palmer commented. “It’s no match against the Torchwood Three Mainframe. Nothing on this planet is, now that Headquarters is destroyed.”
“Theoretically, that’s correct,” Dr. Matthews agreed. “However, they had no reason to carry such a virus with them. They didn’t even know about our existence until they came here.”
“How did they do it then?” Dr. Arnold repeated her original question, her frustration obvious.
“Well,” Dr. Matthews shrugged. “Can we be sure that the Torchwood satellite was truly destroyed in the Battle of Canary Wharf?”
“Wouldn’t it have been picked up by planetary surveillance if it still existed?” Sergeant Ramsay frowned.
“Not if it had an in-built camouflage field,” Dr. Matthews replied.
The sergeant shook his head. “Those things are still in the experimental phase.”
“Where UNIT labs are concerned, perhaps,” Dr. Matthews allowed. “Who knows what kind of alien technology Torchwood has harvested since the 19th century, though?”
“Perhaps Mr. Winslet can check his Archives,” Mr. Palmer suggested mildly.
The archivist shook his head. “No, I’m afraid I cannot. The Archives are password-protected. Only Director Jones and Sir Archibald have access to them, since no-one of us is officially registered as Torchwood agents yet.”
“You would be, had anyone bothered to inform me about the reconstruction of Torchwood Four,” a male voice with a slight Welsh lilt said, and in the next moment a tall young man - wearing an impeccable three-piece-suit and leaning on a cane - appeared in the middle of the room.
Graham Winslet was the only one who had met him before, but there could be no real doubt about his identity. Dr. Arnold hurriedly rose from her seat.
“Director Jones,” she said with a polite smile. “We haven’t expected you so soon. Welcome to Torchwood House.”
“Thank you, Doctor Arnold,” the young man - their boss, apparently - hobbled closer and accepted the chair Mr. Winslet hurriedly vacated for him with a grateful nod. “I apologize for the abrupt method of my arrival but, as you can see, I’m still in no shape to take the train… or to drive up by car.”
“How did you get in unnoticed?” Dr. Matthews blurted out excitedly. “Are you wearing a perception filter?”
“As a matter of fact, I am,” Director Jones replied. “Doctor Harper’s hints were somewhat… unsettling, so I decided to take a look at the situation myself,” he looked pointedly at Sergeant Ramsay. “As you put it, Sergeant, he is a suspicious bastard, but he is no fool. I’ve learned to trust his instincts, despite the abrasive manner in which he likes to present his thoughts.”
“Have you spoken to him already?” Dr. Arnold asked.
“Of course. Walking into a potentially dangerous situation without proper intel would be suicidal.”
“Isn’t that what Harkness does all the time?” Mr. Palmer commented snidely. “Of course he can afford it.”
“No, he cannot; and that’s why I’m trying to break him out of the habit,” Director Jones replied, his voice cold like ice. “The times when Torchwood would toss him to the wolves for distraction, just because he can afford it, as you so eloquently put it, Mr. Palmer, are well and truly over. He is invaluable for Torchwood, so I’d appreciate if you could at least fake some respect when speaking of him.”
Mr. Palmer looked as if he were about to give a sharp answer but Dr. Arnold interfered.
“Ross, don’t! We don’t want to start off on the wrong foot, do we?” She turned to their young boss. “Why don’t we relocate to the drawing room and discuss things over a cup of tea like civilized people?”
“He prefers coffee,” Mr. Palmer said smugly.
“What I prefer is if people stay out of my head,” Director Jones returned. “Try it again, and I’ll have you Retconned back to your diapers. It will be interesting to see what a massive memory loss can do to your much-praised psychic abilities.”
“There’s no need to make threats,” Dr. Arnold interfered again.
Director Jones gave her a bland smile. “I do not make threats, Doctor Arnold… unless I’m willing to act on them. Not that Mr. Palmer could go any deeper than the bare surface - I am the last Torchwood One archivist and accordingly trained - but I find it generally unacceptable to poke around in people’s minds uninvited.”
“It was just a stray thought I’ve picked up!” Mr. Palmer said defensively.
“Then you should have kept it to yourself,” came the sharp answer. “If I want people to know about my preferences, I’ll share them myself. That said, while I do indeed prefer coffee, I’ve already had the one coup I’m currently allowed on each day back in Cardiff. Tea, however, would be welcome. This kind of travel leaves one seriously dehydrated.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Thus they relocated to the drawing room, as Dr. Arnold had suggested, and Miss Chard carried in all the tea paraphernalia - including a three-tiered étagère with tea cakes, dainty little sandwiches, custards and the likes - in no time. The first thing Dr. Arnold had done after being established as the custodian of Torchwood House was to hire a really good cook, so that they could have a proper tea-time every day. Not to mention the other, equally important meals.
After his third cup of tea Director Jones visibly relaxed.
“I apologize if I was a little harsh,” he said. “I am still suffering from debilitating headaches, and dehydration only makes them worse. That doesn’t mean I would not be extremely annoyed about a brand new Torchwood team being established without my knowledge, though.”
“You should bring this to Prince William, then,” Dr. Matthews suggested. “It was his idea.”
“Oh, I’ll have a few choice words with him, don’t worry,” Director Jones said darkly. “I haven’t asked for this job; hell, I never wanted this job. It was Her Royal Majesty who made me the Torchwood Director; but if she and Prince William want me to do my job properly, they should not interfere without my knowledge.”
“Sir Archibald was informed, though,” Dr. Arnold said.
“Sir Archibald is not the Torchwood Director; I am,” Director Jones replied. “If I am to integrate all branches successfully, I need to know of everyone who actually belongs to Torchwood.”
“Sir Archibald and Prince William were concerned about the true safety of the so-called safe channels,” Dr. Arnold pointed out.
“And rightly so. I’m quite certain that we’re all watched by Colonel Oduya and his supporters. That’s why we’ve begun to move sensitive stuff to outlying warehouses and have established the secondary Archives. Should Torchwood Three fall and the Hub be destroyed, we can restart somewhere else.”
“A fat lot of good would that do if you’re the only person with access,” Mr. Palmer said.
Director Jones nodded. “That is true. Which is why I’m working on training a successor already. But it’s a long process that will go on for some time yet.”
“Who is it?” Dr. Arnold asked.
“That’s between me and them. Actually, not even that, as they aren’t aware of the fact yet,” Director Jones replied. “It’s better for their own safety.”
“Their?” Dr. Arnold echoed. “You’ve got more than one in training then?”
Director Jones nodded. “I’ve got one in training right now and two other possibilities. It isn’t easy to find the right candidate, though. The demands towards a Torchwood archivist are very high; and unlike One, I don’t have the means to hunt down people with photographic memories. Which would be the ideal condition for an archivist; but we’ll have to make do with what - with whom - we actually have.”
“Believe me, I know the feeling,” Dr. Arnold pulled a face. “I’d trust my team with my life… well, most of them,” she added, with a significant glance in Mr. Palmer’s direction, “but let’s face it, we are a rag-tag band of broken, disgraced people who must be grateful for getting a second chance.”
Director Jones shrugged. “There is nothing wrong with that. It worked well enough for Three. In fact, being underestimated can be a tactical advantage sometimes. I have no problem with who you are; or what you are. I have a problem with the fact that I wasn’t involved in the decision of choosing you for Torchwood and therefore I’m not sure that I can trust you. No offence intended.”
“None taken,” Dr. Arnold found the young man’s brutal honesty refreshing. “We shall endeavour to earn your trust then.”
“And you’ll get the chance right away,” Director Jones said. “My team is here for a specific reason: we need to learn what the recently established secret UNIT lab at Forgill Castle is up to. The plan is to infiltrate the lab with the help of psychic paper,” he turned to Mr. Palmer. “I want you to go there, posing as a UNIT operative, escorting a group of scientist who might be hired for jobs there.”
“What kind of scientists?” Mr. Palmer asked, mildly surprised that the young Torchwood Director would entrust him this highly sensitive task.
“A cyberneticist, a geneticist and Ms Smith, posing as a virologist,” Director Jones explained.
Dr. Arnold frowned. “Isn’t it a risk to send Ms Smith there? She’s quite well-known in certain circles of UNIT.”
“Fortunately, she never had any dealings with either Major Frost or Major Blake,” Director Jones replied. “And she needs to record everything for Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart and Commodore Sullivan.”
“I doubt that they’d allow her to use a camera in there,” Dr. Matthews commented.
“Certainly not; but she has her own equipment that no-one would recognize as a recording device,” Director Jones said. “Having travelled with the Doctor - with several different versions of him - does have its advantage.”
“When do you want us to infiltrate the labs?” Mr. Palmer asked.
Director Jones sighed. “I’d prefer to prepare this task a lot more carefully, but the sad truth is, we don’t have the time. We must find out what they are up to - my people do have their theories, but we can’t act on the foundation of mere guesswork. So you’ll have to go in right tomorrow, I’m afraid.”
“Before Colonel Oduya and his minders realize that we’re on their trail,” Dr. Arnold added grimly.
Director Jones nodded. “Exactly. Ms Smith, Doctor Lloyd and Doctor Howard will fetch Mr. Palmer with a nondescript van bearing a fake registration number. They’ll carry the falsified IDs and orders that will get you into the labs. From that moment on you’ll be on your own. Please don’t take any unnecessary risks; we need information, not martyrs.”
“Don’t worry, Director,” Mr. Palmer said with a condescending smile; the emphasis on the title was worth a medium-weight insult. “I didn’t get so old by being careless.”
Their young boss didn’t take the bait, though.
“Overconfidence comes before the fall, Mr. Palmer,” he said calmly. “Until now, you were always supported by the same people we’re after now. They won’t take your switching sides kindly.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“I wish I could be sure that he really has switched sides,” Dr. Arnold muttered. She was seeing off their boss who did not want to use his mysterious means of transport in front of a larger audience.
Director Jones raised an eyebrow. “You don’t trust your team members?”
“Oh, I do trust them,” she replied grimly. “But Ross Palmer was never actually a member of my team; and he has already deceived us once, which led to the death of two other operatives. I won’t go as far as saying that he caused the death of those people, but had he told us the truth from the beginning, things might have turned out differently.”
“And you accepted him as a co-worker nonetheless?”
“I had no choice, Mr. Jones!” she said angrily. “You can hardly say no when a royal prince pushes somebody on you.”
“Ianto,” her boss corrected. “We aren’t so formal at Three.”
“Call me Sal then,” she replied, relieved that the ice finally seemed to be breaking, at least between the two of them.
“All right, Sal. Do you have any idea why Prince William insisted on ‘pushing Mr. Palmer on you’, as you put it?”
“I believe he hoped that we might profit from the presence of a psychic here,” she said thoughtfully. “And since Mr. Palmer worked with us before - and we even solved the crisis on our hands more or less successfully - His Highness probably thought we’d make a good team.”
“God save us from well-meaning amateurs!” Ianto muttered in exasperation.
Sal nodded in agreement. “I’d vouch for Janice and Graham Winslet without a thought; and I’m reasonably sure that Dan Matthews and Sergeant Ramsay are good, reliable people. I’m doubtful of Ross Palmer, though. He always had very good connections… and not only to the higher ranks of UNIT. I’ll be hones with you, Ianto; I’d sleep a lot better if we could get rid of him.”
“That can be arranged,” he replied. “Not right away, obviously; we’ll need him to infiltrate those labs. But afterwards… I’ll see what we can do. I don’t want him anywhere near our sensitive stuff, either. The man rubs me the worst way.”
“You can really do that?”
“Sure. All we need to do is to make him forget the last couple of months. That’s what Retcon is for.”
“He’d never take it,” Sal warned.
Ianto shrugged. “I’m not going to ask. I doubt that he’d prefer to move into the Torchwood Three Vaults instead, though. Retirement can be quite pleasant, I’m told. Definitely a lot more pleasant than spending the rest of his life in a cell, next to our resident Weevils.”
Sal looked at him warily. She knew what the Weevils were, of course, but…
“You’re more ruthless than I’ve expected you to be,” she said.
“You’re quite new to Torchwood still,” he replied simply. “Given enough time, you’ll learn that being ruthless is the only way to survive. And even so, your chances to grow old and die in your bed peacefully are slim at best.”