VS3:02 -- "Countdown", Part One
What's so special about an unassuming object in the UNIT vaults? No one knows what it does, or even what it's made of, only that it was recovered in the carnage after a Time Lord's visit. Now this object, and the fate of the world, rests in Jack's hands.
Countdown
by: thaddeusfavour, Mr. Thad
UNIT Lab V217, London
Dr. Gajendra Mahabir yawned as he approached his office. Dr. Mahabir - most often called G.M. by his co-workers - had just spent the better part of what could have been a productive day taking tests. UNIT regularly required the battery of examinations, both mental and physical, to prove that their employees were not aliens, or plants, or alien plants, or whatever it was that UNIT thought they might be. Once again, he'd passed with flying colours, been given the UNIT stamp of approval, and allowed to return to work. Now he faced his own sturdy lab door and the protocols that one co-worker had dubbed "Security Twister." Oversized coffee mug to the left hand, right thumb on the fingerprint ID pad as he contorted his body to bring the RFID card in his wallet closer to the scanner. Juggling everything without mishap was one dance he was good at. Occasionally, he wished for the alien prosthetics lab that Torchwood One had been rumored to have. Extra hands would come in useful from time to time. Hah. Handy. The lab door slid open with a beep and he entered, setting the coffee down on his desk before turning to flick on the light switch.
G.M. blinked. A dim glow, flickering and vague, caught his attention an instant before the lights came on. Turning, he looked around his lab, bobbing his head up and down, trying to catch a second glimpse of whatever he'd seen. The most likely source was one of the alien artefacts stored on the shelves towards the back; most of which, he suspected, were actually more "artwork" than "artefact," since they'd never shown any discernible functions. He paced between the shelving, scanning carefully without success. Being a scientist, however, G.M. wasn't inclined to give up so easily. He went back and turned off the lights.
There! A pale, flickering purple light shone on a small patch of wall, second shelf up from the floor. He made his way over to it, squatting to get a better look. It was a device he'd never actually studied, one he'd inherited from the previous doctor who'd held this position. He checked the card dangling from a string attached to what appeared to be the object's handle.
Device: Unknown
Origin: Unknown
Materials: Unknown, not of Earth origin
Function: Unknown
G.M. spared a moment to marvel that UNIT would even bother to write "unknown" four times, and label a device that looked like an upside-down coffee urn covered in chrome as "not of Earth origin". He truly enjoyed his job, but sometimes UNIT seemed like an organisation afflicted with obsessive-compulsive disorder. He shook his head before carefully grasping the handle and turning the device to see where the light was coming from.
On the back, a line of glowing dots ran from top to bottom. All the dots near the top shone a steady purple, while those near the bottom randomly alternated between purple and yellow. As he watched, the lights changed pattern - flick, flick, flick - once per second. The bottom dot flashed back and forth between purple and yellow. The next dot up changed every two seconds - yellow - purple - yellow. The dot above that changed every four seconds-
"Of course! It's counting in binary!"
Examining the pattern with this new knowledge, he felt his heartbeat pick up and a chill sweep down his spine. It was a countdown.
"Let's see, let's see, let's see… 23,040… 20,039… Seconds. Which means we have just under six hours and twenty four minutes before zero."
And counting down to zero on an alien device was never a good thing. Never.
Mouth dry, he gently lifted the object. Turning it hadn't caused any discernible reaction, so he was confident that it wasn't overly sensitive to motion. Still, he kept his eyes glued to the lights as he took step after careful step across his lab. Reaching the exit, his concentration on the object was so profound that when the door activated with its customary beep, he jumped, nearly dropping the alien coffee urn. Freezing in place, he held his breath, staring at the lights. Flick - flick - flick. The countdown continued unperturbed. Closing his eyes, he exhaled a calming breath, before hurrying down the hall to the primary containment area.
He wasn't quite running by the time he got there, but it was a brisk jog. The lieutenant in charge of the room jumped to his feet and turned two shades of pale at G.M.'s swift approach.
"Open the room," G.M. demanded.
"Yes, sir!" the lieutenant responded, immediately entering the security codes. G.M. knew this would alert the command staff of the small research facility to the potential threat. The heavy steel doors opened slowly with a dull, distant vibration. Thirty seconds was a long time when you were holding an alien device counting down to God-only-knew-what. The hallway beyond was made to withstand explosions, resist chemical spills, and vent gas clouds. It was lined with stainless steel and had a hard jog to the right about twenty feet from the entrance. Straight hallways tended to channel explosions, which made escape and survival difficult. UNIT had done a study, and those results didn't fall into the "unknown" category.
The vibration continued as G.M. rounded the corner and approached a second set of steel doors. The first set had to close before the second set could begin to open, so he dodged through as soon as the gap was wide enough. Precious seconds were being wasted and the device was counting them to him. He hurried into the containment room, placing the device on the solid steel table in the center.
"At last!"
His code, entered into the keypad, alerted the guard that he was on the way out. He trotted to the entrance, shifting from foot to foot as if his energy could compel the series of doors to move faster. With a deep sigh of relief, he exited the stainless steel hallway for the regular one, and finally gave in to his need for flight as he ran full speed for the control room.
A team of UNIT scientists and officers was already waiting for him.
"G.M.!" Maxwell called out as he dropped into his seat, panting. Maxwell worked in Alternative Physics, a department G.M. had applied to several times. "What the hell did you do this time?"
"It wasn't me!" G.M. said, shooting a glare at Maxwell. Just his luck the man was assigned to the primary containment control room.
"Then who was it, Doctor?"
G.M. turned to look as Major Everett Hopps, Officer of the Day, strode into the control room, his sturdy bulk filling the crowded space. More precious seconds were lost as G.M. updated the containment room team on the afternoon's events, cursing silently when he realized he'd left his coffee sitting untouched on the desk in his lab. The monitors in the control room continued to show various views of the device, constantly updating readings of both it and the chamber. Temperature, weight, size, and even gravity, plus all known types of radiation were being tracked, alerts programmed to sound with any change. At least the device didn't seem to be emitting anything that would block their sensors. Actually, the device didn't seem to be emitting anything at all. He wished he could believe that was a good thing.
"Thank you, Dr. Mahabir." Major Hopps turned to another of G.M.'s colleagues. "Dr. Prescott? Do we have anything other than 'unknown' in our files?"
"I was just pulling that up, Major," Dr. Prescott said. "It seems that the device was recovered in 1973 amid the wreckage resulting from a visit by the Master. There's a brief description here - that does indeed correspond physically to the current device - and it includes this note: 'After consultation with an expert in extra-terrestrial technology, it is believed that this device is harmless. We are assured that a minimum of four devices are necessary to constitute a threat, and that lacking this number the device cannot activate.'"
"'An expert in extra-terrestrial technology', " Major Hopps repeated with a sigh. Everyone at UNIT knew that was code for the Doctor. "So why's it active now?" Major Hopps turned to look at Dr. Mahabir. "Do you have four of the damned things sitting on a shelf in your lab? Have we collected more of them recently?"
"No! Just the one, and we haven't collected anything in…" G.M. thought for a moment, but it was Dr. Prescott who answered.
"Two months, nineteen days, Major. I keep track of everything new that comes in to this lab."
"Do we have any idea why the device activated now, or what it is?" Major Hopps was clearly frustrated.
The scientific team stared blankly at one another. G.M. shrugged and turned to the Major. "No," he said, simply.
"Can you find out?"
"We can try." G.M. turned back to the monitors with determination.
Two hours later, the only thing that had changed was the countdown timer. They'd exhausted their options to no avail - neither Martha Jones nor Sarah Jane Smith had any useful information, and the Doctor was unreachable. G.M. tapped his fingers on the desk impatiently. They had one more option, but chances were Major Hopps wouldn't like it. He turned his chair around to face the major.
"What about calling Torchwood?" he asked.
Major Hopps looked up from his computer with a grimace. "I'd rather not involve them."
G.M. stood, pacing towards the major, hands gesturing nervously to the various monitors as he made his points. "We have nothing to go on. The device won't respond to anything we do. The readings have remained steady. This implies that either the device is static until it's set off, or that it's doing something that we can't see." Flinging his arms wide, he said, "We just don't know and aren't likely to find out unless something changes, and by then it could be too late."
Major Hopps frowned, leaning forward at his desk. "And what do you know about Torchwood, Dr. Mahabir? Hmm?"
"Well, their leader has been in recent contact with the Doctor."
"Torchwood One nearly destroyed the earth by opening it up to attack by both Daleks and Cybermen. To my mind, it takes a special kind of stupid to manage that. Torchwood Two may have been where the whole damn organization started, but now it's nothing but an old man of questionable sanity sitting in the middle of the Scottish moors. Torchwood Four is missing completely, subject, no doubt, to more of their arrogant machinations, while Torchwood Three has been steadily shrinking for a decade. This year alone, they had a forty percent casualty rate. How on earth do you think they could possibly help us?" The major's voice had remained steady, but he'd leaned towards G.M. intently as he spoke. The other scientists stopped working to watch the confrontation.
"Wasn't their leader an RAF Group Captain during the war?" Dr. Prescott asked. "One would think you'd get along well with him."
The major looked as though he would have choked, had he been drinking anything. "Jack Harkness? A former RAF Group Captain? You are sadly misinformed."
Dr. Prescott shrugged. "Does it really matter? We've got," he checked the current monitor view of the countdown, "a bit less than four hours to find an answer. Regardless, he has had recent contact with the Doctor."
The major looked like he wanted to say no, or at the very least protest further, but his eyes flicked to the view of the device quietly counting down on the monitor.
"Call Torchwood Three and pray we don't live to regret it," he said.
As G.M. grabbed the phone, he could hear Dr. Prescott mumble, "I just pray we live."
Cardiff, Wales
The restaurant wasn't posh, but the food was good and generally required that Jack use a knife and fork to eat, which was really all that Ianto required of a restaurant anymore. Chips were nice, but the way Jack used them to sop up gravy was less than appetising. For some reason, Jack tended to be more conscious of his manners in Italian restaurants, which was why Ianto had chosen one for their date.
Date. Ianto grabbed his glass of water and quickly gulped some down. Being on a date with Jack was new territory. Ianto knew how to make Jack smile at work, how to make him beg in bed, and how to keep the worst of the demons away during the night, but… date?
In some ways, he knew Jack better, more intimately, than anyone would on a first date. In other ways, he didn't know Jack at all. It was enough to make even the stoutest heart a tad nervous.
Jack plopped down into the seat across from Ianto and held out his hands. "Better?"
Ianto examined the hands carefully, turning them over and peering at the nails.
"Yup. No more Zicatrax goo," he said, starting to let go, but Jack just grinned and clasped his hand, lowering his own to the table and giving a little squeeze.
"Sorry," Jack said. "That stuff's invisible in dim lighting." He cocked an eyebrow. "Guess I should put 'change bulb in Jack's bathroom' on your list."
"I'll make a note of it," Ianto said. "And since you brought up work-"
"Sorry!"
"-I noticed the same car hanging around one of our clean-up sites this morning with the same earnest, young man behind the wheel. I think we need to find out what he's up to, since he doesn't seem to be taking in the sights or waiting for friends."
"Better have Gwen run the tags and do a background check. See what we're dealing with. Now, no more shop talk," Jack said firmly, then paused. Ianto wondered if Jack was only now realising that the only thing they ever talked about was work. Jack looked around.
"No food yet?" he asked.
"Should be any minute now," Ianto said, then spied their waiter coming over with plates. "Or sooner."
Jack's phone rang, and he answered automatically. "Lieutenant Erin Mallory, my favorite UNIT liaison!"
As the waiter served their dinner, Ianto eavesdropped on Jack's end of the conversation, trying to determine how serious the interruption was. UNIT had assigned them a liaison, but so far she'd only been trying to sweet-talk Gwen into opening up the Torchwood archives without being willing to reciprocate. Ianto had to give her points for tenacity. Jack had managed to block every attempt at a face-to-face meeting and she was still on the job.
"So, what is it today? More paperwork you need signed? A particularly nasty bit of red tape you're hoping to tangle me up in? If you're still going on about cross-training, the answer is-"
Ianto had just reached for a breadstick when Jack's voice cut off suddenly.
The waiter leaned close to Ianto and asked softly, "Is everything to your satisfaction, sir?"
"Fine," Ianto said. Watching as Jack straightened in his chair, smile gone, Ianto feared it wasn't.
"In binary? That's unusual," Jack said. "No. I can't tell without seeing it for myself. We could-"
Ianto grabbed the waiter's arm before he could leave. "I believe we'll need our check, if you please," he said quietly.
The young man nodded as if this kind of thing happened every day. "Of course, sir. Shall I box your meals for you?"
"How long?" Jack's tense question had Ianto shaking his head and pulling out money to pay for the meal. He spared one last look for his ziti and sausage in cream sauce before grabbing the breadsticks. At least they'd have something for their trouble.
"We're on our way," Jack said before hanging up. He stood reaching for his wallet, but Ianto stopped him.
"I already took care of it. Where are we off to?" he asked.
"London," Jack said. "Best speed."
"Keys," Ianto said firmly holding out his hand. Jack looked at him, startled. "That was the deal," Ianto said. "If you didn't buy me dinner tonight, I got to drive next time out. And clearly, you didn't pay for dinner, so I'm driving."
Jack shook his head, grinning, then tossed Ianto the keys before heading out of the restaurant. "Fine, but step on it. We don't have much time."
Jack slid into the passenger side of the SUV while Ianto started the engine. Grinning, he flipped open his vortex manipulator and began quickly keying in commands. Sure, it was work, but no one said work couldn't be fun.
"What's that for?" Ianto asked as he backed the large vehicle up and headed for the street.
"You get to drive," Jack lifted his arm tapping at his wriststrap, "I get to set the lights. Green all the way!"
"Just don't forget to set the caution light," Ianto warned. "Last time we nearly left some rather spectacular crack-ups in our wake."
"Hey, I said I was sorry! Don't worry about the lights. Besides," Jack said, sliding a sly look towards Ianto as he spoke, "you can't drive faster than I can fix the lights."
Ianto glanced at him, lips twitching upwards at the corners, before turning back to check carefully for traffic in each direction. The only warning Jack had was a very subtle revving of the engine before the SUV shot out onto the street, tires squealing.
"Yes!" Jack gave an internal fist pump as his fingers flew, setting Cardiff traffic patterns on their ear to keep motorists safe while Ianto pushed every last untested limit on the SUV's tolerances. It was a challenge to keep ahead of Ianto's driving all the way through Cardiff, but by the time they'd reached the M4, he'd only missed one light and Ianto had only missed one turn.
"Draw?" Jack asked, taking a moment to enjoy the sight of Ianto's grin and the firm, long fingers that grasped the wheel so confidently. Jack loved Ianto's hands and the way they gripped-
"Yup," Ianto agreed.
Daydreamus Interruptus. With one last admiring look at Ianto's hands - and a mental promise to pursue that thought later - Jack went back to considering the current situation. "I should call Gwen. Make sure she's at the Hub in case we need her. Think she's had supper yet?"
"Most likely," Ianto said. "Are you going to tell us what's going on?"
"As much as I can."
"We can't help if-" Ianto started, but Jack cut him off, exasperated.
"I only meant that I don't know much myself," he explained. "I'll call Gwen and fill both of you in at the same time. All right?"
A strained silence filled the space between them. Jack jerked the phone out of his coat, fingers stabbing the buttons as he began to dial Gwen's number, when Ianto reached over and laid a hand on his arm.
"Don't dial angry," he said, gently offering understanding while he teased Jack out of his bad humour.
Jack looked down at the hand before letting out a deep breath. "Isn't that supposed to be 'Don't drive angry?' Never did like that movie with Bill Murray and the gopher."
"Caddyshack?" Ianto asked, confused.
"No. The time loop with the… beaver?"
"Groundhog," Ianto said. "Groundhog Day."
Jack looked out the window for a moment. "Yeah. That one. Being stuck in a time loop isn't really that funny. Trust me." He could feel Ianto watching him, so he shrugged and smiled. "I'd better call now. Gwen won't be happy if we get all the way to London before she knows we're gone."
Jack dialed Gwen's number. She answered on the second ring. "Jack. What's happened? Never mind. I'm on my way."
Jack winced. Of course she'd assume there was a crisis. There was always a crisis. They needed to do something nice like have dinner together or... yeah. That had worked so well, hadn't it?
"Whoa! Don't hang up! I mean, yes. I need you to go to the Hub, but I need to explain what's going on first," Jack said. There was a pause from the phone.
"What is going on? My first evening home on time this week means this better be important!" Jack could hear a mumbled exchange as Gwen no doubt covered the receiver to speak to Rhys.
"Oh yeah, it's important. Ianto and I are on our way to London." He ignored her startled exclamation and continued. "UNIT found some kind of device that's running a countdown. Since the Doctor seemed to know what it was, and told them it was harmless by the way, seems they think I might know something about it."
"Do you? Is this… how bad is this, Jack?"
"I don't know. I won't know until I see it." There was another long pause, and Jack imagined Gwen leaning back into Rhys, seeking comfort. There was another quiet murmur barely heard over the phone.
"I'll head to the Hub then, yeah? Get everything ready. You can call me when you get there and I can run a search for the item. See if Torchwood has anything in the archives."
"Thanks, Gwen. Before you go…"
"Yeah?"
"Give Rhys a kiss for me, would you?" There was a bark of laughter over the phone; Jack could just hear Rhys' confused baritone in the background as Gwen managed to say good-bye and hang up.
"He's going to punch you again some day. You know that, right?" Ianto asked.
"He's gotta catch me first." Right then Jack's stomach gave a loud gurgle, reminding both of them that dinner had been left miles behind them in Cardiff.
"Pass me a breadstick, would you?" Ianto asked. "And I think there's a bottle of water in the back seat."
Jack grabbed the breadsticks, pulling a pack of biscuits and a candy bar from his coat - Ianto had frequently accused him of having hamster in his genetic tree - and they shared a quick meal as they settled in for the long haul. Traffic was heavy but moving well enough. Without any accidents, they should make it to London in under three hours.
Eighty kilometers down the road, Jack decided to check in with UNIT and make sure there was still a crisis. It wouldn't do to arrive and discover that the problem had already been solved but nobody had bothered to tell Torchwood. He was just hanging up from that call - countdown yet in progress - when his vortex manipulator beeped.
"Damn. Not good," Jack said checking the readings.
"Is he back?" Ianto asked, anger coloring his voice.
Jack looked over, surprised. White knuckles gripping the steering wheel, jaw clenched, Ianto radiated a controlled rage. "Is who back?"
"John Hart. The last time your strap did that-" One hand flexed on the wheel as Ianto changed lanes abruptly.
"Ah," Jack said with understanding. "No. It's picking up a change in temporal energy. A buildup. Centred on - oh, really not good." Jack double-checked the readings, running a quick search for similar events. He kept one eye on Ianto, giving him time to calm down. "Hey," he said finally. "Don't drive angry." Ianto let out a soft huff of amusement and Jack could see him start to relax.
"Let me guess. Centred on London?" Ianto asked.
"Good guess." Jack said. "I'm going to call Gwen again. I think we can use some of the equipment at the Hub to fine-tune the details."
It wasn't easy to scan beyond Cardiff for energy not related to the Rift. Having been built over time, the Hub was a patchwork quilt of brilliant ideas and alien technology, all held together with human ingenuity. What they needed the sensors to do now required re-setting and re-purposing several pieces of equipment scattered throughout the Hub on various levels, most of which hadn't been actively accessed in years. The first time Jack instructed Gwen to climb down to level two and enter coordinates, she went without complaint. The second time, she asked him if he was sure before she went. The third time, he heard a sharp clatter and several words spoken in Welsh that no one thought he knew the meaning of.
"Gwen?"
"That's enough, Jack. I can't keep climbing up and down, running back and forth, and having to stop what I'm doing and find a signal before I can ask you any questions. I need help. I'm calling Rhys."
"What? No. Gwen, we don't need him. He's a civilian and he doesn't know enough about the Hub to be of any help. He'll probably get eaten by Mfyanwy. We do not need him bumbling around in there."
Ianto took his eyes off traffic long enough to catch Jack's attention. "What - who got into the Hub?"
"No one," answered Jack. "Gwen wants to call her buddy-boy to help her with the equipment."
Ianto looked horrified and even let the car swerve slightly as he exclaimed, "She's letting P.C. Andy into our Hub?"
"Huh? P.C. Andy? No, no, worse than that. She wants to call in Rhys!"
"Oh." Ianto seemed mollified. He turned his attention back to the road, and absent-mindedly made a rude gesture to a car that had honked at them a moment earlier. "Rhys isn't so bad."
"Jack! I don't care-" Gwen started to protest.
"Gwen, look. I don't have time to argue about it. We're almost there and traffic is picking up. We should be getting our police escort soon, if UNIT remembered to order it. Just repeat those steps three more times for each of the modules and everything should be fine. Call me when you get it done. Whatever you do, do not call Rhys!"
Jack hung up quickly. He'd learned there really was no way to win an argument with Gwen except for ringing off. His phone rang. He checked the number. Amend that: no way to win an argument with her without hanging up and not picking it up the next couple of times she called back.
Ianto was grinning. "She'll ring him."
"No she won't. She wouldn't dare."
Ianto laughed. "Quid she does."
"You're on."
"You're too stubborn for your own good, you know," Ianto said, shaking his head.
Jack just grinned, relieved to be back on safe conversational ground again. Fast and loose came easy to him; in-depth and meaningful, not so much. Luckily, Ianto wasn't much better at it. If he was, they'd spend less time arguing and more time, well, contemplating each other's hands, and Ianto had some mighty fine hands.
"Jack. You're staring at my hands again."
"Am not. Okay. But they're nice hands." Jack shifted in his seat to get a better view of said hands.
Ianto glanced at him, shaking his head in apparent despair. "That's… I'd like to be supportive, but I think 'creepy' actually suits here."
"I bet you'd let Captain Picard stare at your hands." Ever since Ianto had told him about his boyhood crush on Jean-Luc Picard, Jack hadn't been able to resist teasing Ianto about it privately.
"Two words: James Tiberius Kirk," Ianto said.
"That's three, and I'd take Kirk over Picard anyday."
"Of course, you would."
They spent the rest of their time on the M4 discussing the relative merits of Captains Kirk and Picard, and whether Godzilla could take on the sandworms of Dune and win.
UNIT Lab V217, London
G.M. paused in the doorway to the control room as he caught sight of the prettiest redhead in a… he moved closer, circling slightly, so he could see her rank insignia. Ah. She was certainly the prettiest woman in a lieutenant's uniform that he had ever seen. Running a hand through his own wavy black hair, he approached her as she was talking to Major Hopps.
"Dr. Mahabir," the major said as he came closer. "Torchwood should be here within ten minutes. Lt. Mallory here is our liaison with them. I thought, perhaps, that you would like to collect them with her, since you seemed so anxious to get them here in the first place."
"Certainly!" G.M. said, extending a hand to Lt. Mallory. "Dr. Gajendra Mahabir."
"Lt. Erin Mallory. I'm pleased to meet you, Dr. Mahabir."
"All of my friends call me G.M."
"Of course," Lt. Mallory said politely.
"Best get moving, Lieutenant," Major Hopps said. "Don't want to keep Torchwood waiting. God only knows what trouble they'll cause unattended."
Exchanging a quick salute with the major, Lt. Mallory nodded at G.M. and led the way. G.M. had to hurry to keep up. Like most of the UNIT soldiers he'd met, she tended to walk quickly when assigned to a duty.
"So," he said, "how long have you been assigned as Torchwood liaison?"
"About six months."
"But you're not assigned to Cardiff? You work out of London?"
She turned to look at him, a knowing expression on her face. "Am I single?" she asked, cutting to the chase.
"Ah, yes," he said, grateful that his dark complexion tended to hide blushing fairly well.
"Sorry. My girlfriend and I just moved here from my posting in Greece. We're still getting all the boxes unpacked. So far, only two utterly irreplaceable things were destroyed by the movers."
"Ah," G.M. repeated. Beautiful, taken, and not his type, or rather, he wasn't her type. "Well, if you need any help finding restaurants or dry cleaners, let me know." He winced at how awkward that sounded, but Lt. Mallory didn't seem to mind.
"Thanks. I think we're good, but I'll keep that in mind." She held the door so he could go through first.
G.M. let his eyes wander over her cute freckles before sighing sadly and banishing the thought from his head. Perhaps she had a sister. He exited the building and leaned over the railing to watch the parking lot, Lt. Mallory choosing to stand beside him. The sirens of the approaching police cars wailed into the still night air, getting ever closer, until they suddenly cut off - no need for an escort beyond the gates of the complex. The growl of one powerful engine grew louder as a black SUV roared into sight, tearing across the parking lot to come to a screeching halt in front of them.
"From what I hear," Lt. Mallory said, leaning in confidentially, "we're going to love this next bit."
The man's foot hit the ground while the door was still swinging open. Boot, leg, greatcoat, and an impressive frame unfolding as the man's eyes swept the area and locked on them. He smiled, and GM heard his own breath hitch with Lt. Mallory's. Seems no matter which way you swung, this one would make you reconsider your options. The man pivoted, coat flaring, drawing GM's eye to the driver who'd quietly slipped around to the boot. And now he, too, came forward, leather case slung over his shoulder and an intense, assessing gaze. The two men leaned towards each other, conferring softly, before striding over to greet them.
Lt. Mallory stepped forward, offering them a sharp salute as she introduced herself. "Captain Harkness. Mr. Jones. Lt. Erin Mallory, UNIT liaison to Torchwood."
The man in the coat offered a crisp salute of his own, still smiling, before offering Lt. Mallory his hand. "Captain Jack Harkness, at your service. Believe me, if I'd known how pretty you were, I'd have said yes to that cross-training."
"Once this is resolved, I'll get it scheduled, then."
"I said if. Sorry. You're gorgeous, but UNIT still hasn't put anything we can use on the table."
"Captain Harkness-" Lt. Mallory began to protest.
"Call me Jack."
"Jack." The quiet voice from the Captain's partner carried an urgent tone that caught everyone's attention. "Maybe we should save the posturing, flirting, or whatever else you're doing for later and continue the introductions en route. I believe we're under a time constraint?"
"Right." Captain Harkness checked his watch. "Down to under twenty minutes."
"You're right, of course, Mr. Jones," Lt. Mallory said, opening the door crisply and ushering them all inside.
"Call him Ianto," Captain Harkness instructed. "Easier that way. Now, what can you tell me about the device?"
"Ah," G.M. said, "I found it. In my lab." Once again he was forced to trot in order to keep up with the long strides of the others. There must be something about the military that gave one the ability to walk preternaturally fast. "Doctor Gajendar Mahabir, by the way, but you can call me G.M." He tried a smile of his own and was rewarded by a quick grin from Captain Harkness.
"Only if you call me Jack." G.M. felt like a student again as Captain Harkness's sharp eyes looked him up and down, finally giving him a wink.
"Dear God. It's just a reflex with you, isn't it?" Ianto asked. "G.M., do you have any better idea of what it is than you did when we were first contacted?"
"No. Sadly, all of our tests continue to come back with the same information. Unless this is some elaborate prank, it's totally beyond our current level of technology. I very much hope you'll be able to help us."
"We'll know soon enough," Lt. Mallory said effectively cutting off the conversation. She hurried them straight to the control room, which was now over-flowing with scientists from all of the major departments. G.M. dashed forward to open the door.
"Glad to see they're expecting us," Jack said, pushing into the room with a flick of his coat.
Major Hopps stood as they entered, letting his displeasure show as he fixed the two men from Torchwood with a steely gaze. G.M., fearing more time wasted on argument, hustled them past the major and pointed to the device on the monitors. Jack leaned over the desk, studying the various views on the cameras.
"Fourteen minutes. No change?" G.M. asked hopefully.
"Not a one," Dr. Prescott said, amid a chorus of agreement from the others. G.M. tapped the desk worriedly, then turned to watch Jack, who straightened abruptly and pulled out his cell phone, hitting speed dial and waiting only a moment before someone answered.
"Gwen. I-" Jack said. "Oh. Hello, Rhys. So glad you could join us." Jack turned slightly to glance at Ianto, who seemed to be hiding a smile. "I need to speak to Gwen." Pause. "Yes! Right now." Jack glared, fingers tight on the phone as he waited, longer this time. "Gwen. So nice to know it's Take Your Husband to Work day. Can you- We'll talk about it later. Right now, I really need to know that you finished those adjustments." Jack smiled. "Great! Now, give me the readings, top and bottom." Gradually, the smile slipped, and he brought up one hand to rub his brow, finally shaking his head and, without another word, thrusting the phone to Ianto. He grabbed G.M. by the shoulder and ordered, "Take me to the device."
G.M. nodded, turning towards the door only to find Major Hopps squaring his broad shoulders as he placed himself between them and the exit.
"I'm afraid that's against protocol, Captain," Major Hopps said.
"Screw protocol. I need to get in there."
"Excuse me, Captain," Major Hopps replied, making it clear he felt Jack didn't deserve the title, "I will not 'screw protocol'."
"Look, Major-"
"Can you deactivate it?" G.M. interrupted the confrontation, feeling the seconds passing. Two fierce glares turned on him, making him shiver, but he stood firm. "Look, there's no time to fight! Jack, can you deactivate the device or not?" He could feel the entire room holding its breath, all the attention focused on Jack.
"No. But I can pause it."
G.M.'s heart thudded frantically at the "no," but at the second comment, he turned pleading eyes to the major, whose gaze was locked on Jack. Three more seconds wasted before Hopps made his decision.
"Go," he said to G.M. The major spun on his heel, slapping one sturdy hand against the intercom. As G.M. lunged for the door, motioning Jack and Ianto to come with him, he heard the major speaking to the lieutenant manning the primary containment room. "Let Torchwood into the room."
"Yes, sir," the lieutenant said. "Protocol requires that I-"
"Screw protocol, Lieutenant. Let them in immediately."
G.M., Jack and Ianto rounded the corner at a dead run. The lieutenant sitting behind the grey metal desk - military chic - leapt to his feet at their approach and entered a code on the keypad affixed to the equally grey wall. The massive steel doors began to slide open. Ianto felt the vibration in the floor immediately, the vague thrum of powerful machinery reminding him of the Hub; it was about the only thing that did in this warren of clean, sterile hallways, neat desks and sleek equipment. Everything here screamed 'superiority,' laced with a dash of arrogance. UNIT wasn't Torchwood One - its employees took pains to make that clear - but the familiar slick surfaces and distant thrum of motors made Ianto's spine prickle unpleasantly.
They skidded to a halt, with G.M. shifting nervously from foot to foot while waiting for the gap between the doors to widen.
"Ianto, you should wait out here," Jack said, pointing to the desk.
Ianto turned to him. "Why?"
"I'm not one hundred percent certain what will happen when I go in there. I've read about these things, but I've never seen one."
"Come on," G.M. called, motioning to them as he dodged through the narrow opening.
Jack looked at the size of the opening and barked a laugh. "Damn. He's flexible, and scientists in lab coats are skinnier than Captains in greatcoats."
"I'm coming with you, " Ianto said, ignoring Jack's deflection.
Jack shook his head. "I don't want you in there if I'm wrong."
"And I've brought some of our equipment that might help . Besides, if you really thought you were wrong, you'd have ordered me to stay here." With that, he slipped through the doors and hurried after G.M. There was a not-so-muffled curse from Jack, followed a moment later by the clacking of the buttons on his greatcoat as he squeezed through, then the sound of footsteps following Ianto down the hall.
The solid thump of the outer doors closing again gave the hallway an odd, dead feel as the air fell still and the background noise abruptly cut off. The only sound for was their own panting breaths until the thrum of the inner doors' opening shivered through the floor and hummed in their ears.
"Nice set-up," Jack said to G.M., who was once again jogging in place. Ianto was pretty sure the doctor was chanting "come on, come on, come on" under his breath.
"Yes. Very safe, but very slow," G.M. said. Once again, he squeezed through first, but this time Jack just shrugged. Ianto smiled at the thought that they were being sorted for size like apples or tomatoes. He took quick note of the room: one exit, equipment along the walls, view screens currently showing the room they'd left minutes ago, and a layer of transparent shielding nearer the ceiling. Looked a bit like an operating theater at a hospital. G.M. led Jack straight to the centre of the room, pointing to the device expectantly.
Jack stared at it for a moment before reaching out. Ianto thought it looked like an odd coffee urn, and as Jack's hands hung in the air in front of it, the whole scene reminded him of a cartoon. "G.M.," Jack asked, "your scans show that the top can be turned, don't they?"
"Our scans show that the top is a separate piece of metal, but we don't know the significance of that. Apparently in the late 1970's they tried to open it by unscrewing-"
Jack didn't wait for him to finish. "Yeah, I thought so. The top turns."
Ianto could hear G.M. nervously counting down the seconds as Jack continued to hesitate, arms still stretched out towards the device. Finally, Jack picked it up by the handle, placing his other hand on the top and taking a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he muttered, "Here goes nothing." With that, he twisted the top. It turned with a click, and the row of lights all went yellow. Steady yellow. Steady, unchanging yellow. The countdown had stopped.
A strange, subtle hiss came from the speakers mounted on the walls near each of the view screens. For an instant Ianto was puzzled, until he realized that everyone in the control room had been holding their breath; the sound had been all of them exhaling at once. Then he also realized he was holding his own breath. He too gave a sigh of relief. A moment later, the control room broke out into a celebration of back slaps, handshakes, and cheers.
"Dr. Mahabir." Major Hopps' voice sounded loud even over the control room chatter. "Please verify that the countdown is halted."
"Yes," G.M. reported, grinning like a madman. "The lights are glowing a steady yellow." Gesturing from Jack to the table, he asked, "Can you put the device down so I can inspect it? How long will this last?"
"Ah…" Jack said. "See, that's just it. I can't let go or the countdown starts again. The top is just a simple mechanical device. Twist it one way and hold it, the device is paused; let it go and everything snaps back into place and the countdown resumes. One device, one pause. If I let go, we've got less than ten minutes until this thing goes off."
Damn! Well, there was the other shoe dropped. Ianto set his equipment case down, not sure how he could help yet. Jack shrugged, giving him a reassuring wink.
"Gentlemen, please!" Ianto jumped at the shout, but it was just Major Hopps calling the control room to order. "Thank you. Now, Captain Harkness, am I to understand that you have to remain in actual contact with the device at all times in order to hold the countdown?"
"This was just supposed to be a last minute pause; time enough for your transport to arrive, something like that." Jack held the device up towards the cameras. "They didn't want anyone to be able to stop the countdown with a quick disarm and then walk away."
"I see." A couple of seconds ticked by. "Can you brief us on the item?"
"Anything I can do to help, but I really hate talking through a camera," Jack said. He nodded towards the rest of the room. "Why don't you and your staff join us down here? You can bring the refreshments, and some chairs. This room could do with some chairs."
"Captain," the major said, a note of warning in his voice. "That room serves a purpose, in case you hadn't noticed."
Jack sighed. "Yeah. Look, this isn't a bomb. If I let it go, it won't go off, it'll just continue the countdown. It's safe. You have my word. Hey, I can come up there if you'd rather, but I figured you wouldn't want me to trip on my way over."
Ianto watched Jack and the major take each other's measure, the tension palpable through the monitors. Jack's expression was calm, his body slouched, leaning slightly against the table, as if the item in his hands really was filled with coffee. The major frowned down at him, his stiff posture defining proper angles of shoulder and arm, leaning across one of the desks in the control room as if he could push himself through the camera. Several taut seconds passed. Ianto felt himself relax when Major Hopps gave a sharp nod, ceding the victory to Jack and ending the confrontation.
"Very well," he said. A brief, cool smile crossed his lips. "Shan't need to tell you to stay put then, shall I?"
Ianto turned back to Jack. "You all right?" he asked, not sure how he could help but willing to try. At times like this, he felt he understood Jack best. Needing to help, but instead being helpless: he imagined this was how Jack felt, watching time and lives drift past him without being able to hold on to them.
"Yeah. Fine so far, but I'm going to get awfully tired of this position in a couple of hours."
"You can move around though, yes?" G.M. asked.
"As long as I'm careful," Jack said. "I really can't afford to drop this thing. I'm pretty sure that this device won't go on hold a second time."
"Can we switch off?" Ianto asked, considering how they could make this bearable.
"You mean take turns?" Jack asked. Ianto nodded. "I don't know. Maybe? We probably shouldn't try it unless it's absolutely necessary. The consequences…" Jack shrugged again, shaking his head, before standing up and giving his entire body a shake. G.M.'s breath caught and he stepped back, eyes wide, but Jack just stretched a little before looking around the room.
"It's okay, really," Jack reassured G.M. "Hey, this is a pretty nice containment room. Sturdy. State of the art, right?"
"UNIT utilised the most current data in its design. Normally, we'd be using those to manipulate the alien artifact." G.M. gestured to the rows of mechanical devices against one wall. "R.I.M.s. Robotic Interface Mechanoids."
"Nice. I like the name," Jack said, grinning. Ianto joined him in examining the robots. Long arms with grabber appendages attached to sturdy, fat-wheeled bodies bristling with cameras and sensors. Thankfully, they didn't look the least bit humanoid.
G.M. was giving them a more thorough tour of the room when Ianto felt another vibration and heard the low hum of the doors opening. Catching Jack's eye and sharing a nod, he stepped quickly over to retrieve his equipment case. He didn't actually expect UNIT to betray them, but working for Torchwood had taught him a certain amount of caution. Besides, Jack was paranoid enough for the both of them, and with his hands occupied, it would be up to Ianto to deal with any physical threats. He positioned himself to one side and slightly in front of Jack.
G.M. trotted over to help as UNIT soldiers entered the room. Ianto watched, taking special note when a corporal wheeling a large, black leather office chair approached them.
"Major Hopps suggested this might be best, sir. Said it's more comfortable than those," he said, giving a nod to the half-dozen folding chairs being set up along with a table.
Ianto waited, taking his cues from Jack, who studied the chair a moment, glancing about the room at the other preparations, before grinning at the corporal.
"I won't talk, even if you put me in the comfy chair," Jack quipped.
Ianto rolled his eyes at the reference, but the corporal returned the grin. "I don't know about that, sir. You see, we have three main weapons here at UNIT."
"Fear!" Jack was enjoying himself.
"Surprise!" So was the corporal. Another convert to Torchwood via the dubious mechanism of ensemble comedy. Ianto rolled his eyes at the simultaneous cries of "Uniforms!"
Major Hopps entered, calling the handful of UNIT soldiers and scientists to order and requesting they take their seats quickly. The corporal hastily pushed the chair over the to table as the major took a seat.
"Nice chair. Good lumbar support," Jack said, sitting across from Major Hopps. Ianto stood guard near Jack, keeping a close eye on the others.
"Captain," the major said, motioning towards the device in Jack's hands. "I'm sure that you're as anxious to be rid of that thing as we are. I'd appreciate a thorough briefing with as little sideshow as possible."
"All right. It's a time lock," Jack said without preamble. "Time Lord technology, as I'm sure you've guessed by now. By itself, it's harmless. But with three other devices, it's dangerous as hell. Together, they can take a place, or an event, out of time. In theory, it could lock the entire planet out of time forever unless we can locate the other devices and remove one of the four out of the sequence."
Quiet, followed by a cacophony of voices as the scientists all began asking questions at once.
"Gentlemen!" Major Hopps quelled the disturbance with a glance. "Captain, what exactly does it mean to be locked out of time? Surely, if it's meant to stop all contact with the rest of the galaxy, perhaps the Doctor has enabled them as a means to protect us from something?"
Jack's laugh was harsh, a quick bark of sound followed by a shake of his head. "It depends. Which few seconds of time would you like to be caught in for the rest of eternity? This," Jack raised the device from the table, "isn't a safety lock, it's a prison door."
"Why would the Time Lords have built anything like this?" G.M. asked.
"I can make a guess or two, but it's not something the Doctor ever discussed with me. You'll have to ask him."
"Captain Harkness, we called you in because certain members of our staff thought your connection to the Doctor would give you greater insight into the workings of this device."
One of the UNIT science staff - a Dr. Maxwell, Ianto noted with a quick glance at the security badge - addressed Jack haughtily. He was a thin man with a pinched face and superior expression. G.M. glared at the fellow as he continued speaking.
"If you don't actually have any further information, I suggest you let those of us with scientific training make the evaluations."
"Great. So, I suppose you can work out exactly where the other three devices can be found?" Jack asked. "Because everybody knows they need to be placed at equidistant positions around the globe in order to activate. And of course, you'll already know just what happens when they're activated. Hey, I know! Maybe you can check the user's manual." Jack made a show of lifting the item and twisting it this way and that as if looking for something.
"Why equidistant?" G.M. asked hastily before Dr. Maxwell could respond.
"Because if they're not in that position to within a few feet, they won't activate," Jack said. "But, hey. Dr. Maxwell here could have told you that, right?"
"Look, Captain-" Maxwell started to speak indignantly, but Major Hopps interrupted him.
"Dr. Maxwell, please be quiet. Captain Harkness?"
Jack held still for a long moment before nodding. "Okay. Once activated, they start gathering temporal energy until they reach the necessary threshold to set a permanent time loop, effectively taking their target out of time. The countdown is just an indication of how much time is left until enough energy is stored."
"Do you know how to stop the countdown?" Major Hopps asked.
"Remove, as in physically moving, one of the devices from its current location."
"But, haven't we already moved this one?" G.M. asked. "If the coordinates must be as exact as you claim, then the countdown should have ended."
"The longer the countdown continues, the more temporal energy the device stores, the farther it has to be moved to break the connection and stop the countdown," Jack said. "By now, this device probably has to be moved thousands of miles away from here."
"But," Major Hopps asked, "it could still be moved?"
"As long as I go with," Jack said. "Where it goes, I go, and vice versa. There'd always be some risk of dropping the device during transport, so moving wouldn't be my first choice."
"What about binding the artifact to your hands?" Dr. Maxwell suggested. Ianto frowned, not liking the idea of Jack being bundled off onto a UNIT plane with his hands bound. "After all," the man continued, "we have developed some very successful industrial adhesives that should-"
"I think," Ianto said firmly, fixing the doctor with a glare, "we should concentrate on finding the other devices and moving them, keeping this one in reserve as a last resort."
"I agree," the major said. "We shouldn't risk the hazards of moving this device until we've collected at least one of the others. Unless it's absolutely necessary, of course, in which case I'll have transport standing by."
"But how are we going to locate any of the other devices?" G.M. asked. "Three more, at equidistant points around… what? The Earth? London? We could be searching for the rest of our lives and never find them! I doubt Jack can hold on for that long, even if we're assuming that the device itself doesn't have a time-out and won't restart the countdown again on its own."
Jack leaned in the chair and tilted his head back to look at Ianto. "We'll need to coordinate the search with Gwen. The Hub's sensors are already reconfigured; she'll just need to use my wriststrap to detect the temporal energy."
Ianto considered for a moment, then nodded. "I'll call ahead and tell her to alert the council that we're going to be drawing extra power. How are we going to transport that?" Ianto pointed at the wriststrap.
"You'll take it," Jack said.
Ianto frowned, uneasy at the thought of leaving Jack alone and completely at UNIT's mercy.
"Captain, I'm not sure that's such a good idea," the major said.
Ianto blinked, startled to hear UNIT voice his own objection to the plan.
"Well, I don't see that we have an option," Jack said. "It's not like Gwen's going to let you guys into the Hub without one of us being present."
"You've already said we can't move the device. Fine. I'll take your word for it." Major Hopps leaned forward, brows furrowed, studying Jack. "But as long as we're dependent on that one device to save the Earth, time is of the essence. We don't have three hours to spare for Mr. Jones to drive back to Cardiff. Isn't there some way we can use UNIT technology to interface with your equipment, thus saving time and keeping all of us in one place?"
"Why, Major Hopps," Jack said, his tone thick with insincere friendliness. "I'd almost think that you don't trust me."
"Why, Captain Harkness, I'd almost think that you don't trust us." Major Hopps spoke dryly, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms.
Ianto took in the intent stares of the others. It seemed they were at an impasse, and Jack notoriously hated to give in. "One moment please. Hold on, Jack." Grabbing the chair, Ianto deftly rolled Jack away from the table.
"Hey!" Jack protested.
Ianto knelt beside the chair. "There's nothing wrong with his plan. Besides, if I leave, you'll be unprotected."
"It's not like they could kill me," Jack said. Ianto's eyebrow rose skeptically. "Permanently, anyway."
"The point isn't whether you'd die," Ianto said, exasperated. "The point is whether you need to. Besides, if I stay, I might be able to pry some UNIT secrets out of G.M."
"Who says I couldn't pry them out of him?" Jack asked.
"No hands, you'll have to do it with charm alone."
"I'm charming!" Jack protested.
"Yes, but I'll be working with him to adapt the interface technology. It'll be easier for me."
"Ah, about that, I don't want UNIT to find out more about my wriststrap than they need to."
"Don't worry. I think I can keep them guessing easily enough," Ianto said.
Apparently tired of waiting, the major strode over to Jack and Ianto. "Gentlemen, can I have your decision? I'd like to begin as soon as possible."
"Well," Jack said, "if your equipment is up to our standards, I think we can make it work without moving my wriststrap back to Cardiff."
"You'll have access to everything you need to interface our systems. I'll place some of our staff at your disposal."
Dr. Maxwell, who had moved close enough to hear the major's final statement, hurried over with a frown. "Sir! From all reports, their Hub is a cobbled together mishmash of barely-functioning alien technology. We have perfectly good equipment here. We don't need their help."
"Equipment that was completely unable to detect any readings from this item? Is that the equipment you're referring to, Dr. Maxwell?" Jack asked, waving the item he held towards the doctor.
Maxwell looked like he wanted to protest, but the major turned away from him, speaking to Jack and Ianto.
"I'll alert UNIT bases worldwide in order to coordinate the search teams. If you get me the coordinates, I'll supply the manpower."
Ianto glanced about the room. It seemed that, despite all the shiny toys and cutting-edge technology, UNIT needed Torchwood to save the day. He caught Jack's gaze.
Jack nodded, considering. "We'll need to interface my wriststrap with your tech in order to receive the data from the Hub. It won't be too difficult. Ianto and G.M. should be able to get that working by the time Gwen can run the necessary scans."
Ianto kept his expression bland, knowing how easily, almost eagerly, Jack's wriststrap interfaced with every piece of electronics it encountered. Obviously, something Jack didn't want UNIT to know. Ianto nodded, backing Jack's play. "I'll get Gwen on the phone while you're doing that. She and Rhys can get started."
"It should work. Major, we have a plan," Jack said.
"Excellent. Dr. Mahabir, I'm placing you at their disposal. Whatever it takes to get those coordinates. Lieutenant Mallory!"
"Sir!" The lieutenant stepped forward.
"Your duty is to see to the safety of this room, and that," the major pointed at the odd coffee urn as Jack flexed his fingers against the top, "and the Captain are your top priority. Protect them at all costs. Captain Harkness. Mr. Jones." Major Hopps shifted to them. "Whatever you require will be provided." With that, he turned on his heel and headed for the exit.
Jack called after him. "Coffee would be nice. Maybe a sandwich." As if on cue, a loud gurgle came from Jack's stomach. As the major called one of the soldiers to see to Torchwood's needs, Jack shrugged and looked at G.M. and Lt. Mallory. "What? I missed dinner."
Countdown: Part Two
Countdown
by: thaddeusfavour, Mr. Thad
UNIT Lab V217, London
Dr. Gajendra Mahabir yawned as he approached his office. Dr. Mahabir - most often called G.M. by his co-workers - had just spent the better part of what could have been a productive day taking tests. UNIT regularly required the battery of examinations, both mental and physical, to prove that their employees were not aliens, or plants, or alien plants, or whatever it was that UNIT thought they might be. Once again, he'd passed with flying colours, been given the UNIT stamp of approval, and allowed to return to work. Now he faced his own sturdy lab door and the protocols that one co-worker had dubbed "Security Twister." Oversized coffee mug to the left hand, right thumb on the fingerprint ID pad as he contorted his body to bring the RFID card in his wallet closer to the scanner. Juggling everything without mishap was one dance he was good at. Occasionally, he wished for the alien prosthetics lab that Torchwood One had been rumored to have. Extra hands would come in useful from time to time. Hah. Handy. The lab door slid open with a beep and he entered, setting the coffee down on his desk before turning to flick on the light switch.
G.M. blinked. A dim glow, flickering and vague, caught his attention an instant before the lights came on. Turning, he looked around his lab, bobbing his head up and down, trying to catch a second glimpse of whatever he'd seen. The most likely source was one of the alien artefacts stored on the shelves towards the back; most of which, he suspected, were actually more "artwork" than "artefact," since they'd never shown any discernible functions. He paced between the shelving, scanning carefully without success. Being a scientist, however, G.M. wasn't inclined to give up so easily. He went back and turned off the lights.
There! A pale, flickering purple light shone on a small patch of wall, second shelf up from the floor. He made his way over to it, squatting to get a better look. It was a device he'd never actually studied, one he'd inherited from the previous doctor who'd held this position. He checked the card dangling from a string attached to what appeared to be the object's handle.
Device: Unknown
Origin: Unknown
Materials: Unknown, not of Earth origin
Function: Unknown
G.M. spared a moment to marvel that UNIT would even bother to write "unknown" four times, and label a device that looked like an upside-down coffee urn covered in chrome as "not of Earth origin". He truly enjoyed his job, but sometimes UNIT seemed like an organisation afflicted with obsessive-compulsive disorder. He shook his head before carefully grasping the handle and turning the device to see where the light was coming from.
On the back, a line of glowing dots ran from top to bottom. All the dots near the top shone a steady purple, while those near the bottom randomly alternated between purple and yellow. As he watched, the lights changed pattern - flick, flick, flick - once per second. The bottom dot flashed back and forth between purple and yellow. The next dot up changed every two seconds - yellow - purple - yellow. The dot above that changed every four seconds-
"Of course! It's counting in binary!"
Examining the pattern with this new knowledge, he felt his heartbeat pick up and a chill sweep down his spine. It was a countdown.
"Let's see, let's see, let's see… 23,040… 20,039… Seconds. Which means we have just under six hours and twenty four minutes before zero."
And counting down to zero on an alien device was never a good thing. Never.
Mouth dry, he gently lifted the object. Turning it hadn't caused any discernible reaction, so he was confident that it wasn't overly sensitive to motion. Still, he kept his eyes glued to the lights as he took step after careful step across his lab. Reaching the exit, his concentration on the object was so profound that when the door activated with its customary beep, he jumped, nearly dropping the alien coffee urn. Freezing in place, he held his breath, staring at the lights. Flick - flick - flick. The countdown continued unperturbed. Closing his eyes, he exhaled a calming breath, before hurrying down the hall to the primary containment area.
He wasn't quite running by the time he got there, but it was a brisk jog. The lieutenant in charge of the room jumped to his feet and turned two shades of pale at G.M.'s swift approach.
"Open the room," G.M. demanded.
"Yes, sir!" the lieutenant responded, immediately entering the security codes. G.M. knew this would alert the command staff of the small research facility to the potential threat. The heavy steel doors opened slowly with a dull, distant vibration. Thirty seconds was a long time when you were holding an alien device counting down to God-only-knew-what. The hallway beyond was made to withstand explosions, resist chemical spills, and vent gas clouds. It was lined with stainless steel and had a hard jog to the right about twenty feet from the entrance. Straight hallways tended to channel explosions, which made escape and survival difficult. UNIT had done a study, and those results didn't fall into the "unknown" category.
The vibration continued as G.M. rounded the corner and approached a second set of steel doors. The first set had to close before the second set could begin to open, so he dodged through as soon as the gap was wide enough. Precious seconds were being wasted and the device was counting them to him. He hurried into the containment room, placing the device on the solid steel table in the center.
"At last!"
His code, entered into the keypad, alerted the guard that he was on the way out. He trotted to the entrance, shifting from foot to foot as if his energy could compel the series of doors to move faster. With a deep sigh of relief, he exited the stainless steel hallway for the regular one, and finally gave in to his need for flight as he ran full speed for the control room.
A team of UNIT scientists and officers was already waiting for him.
"G.M.!" Maxwell called out as he dropped into his seat, panting. Maxwell worked in Alternative Physics, a department G.M. had applied to several times. "What the hell did you do this time?"
"It wasn't me!" G.M. said, shooting a glare at Maxwell. Just his luck the man was assigned to the primary containment control room.
"Then who was it, Doctor?"
G.M. turned to look as Major Everett Hopps, Officer of the Day, strode into the control room, his sturdy bulk filling the crowded space. More precious seconds were lost as G.M. updated the containment room team on the afternoon's events, cursing silently when he realized he'd left his coffee sitting untouched on the desk in his lab. The monitors in the control room continued to show various views of the device, constantly updating readings of both it and the chamber. Temperature, weight, size, and even gravity, plus all known types of radiation were being tracked, alerts programmed to sound with any change. At least the device didn't seem to be emitting anything that would block their sensors. Actually, the device didn't seem to be emitting anything at all. He wished he could believe that was a good thing.
"Thank you, Dr. Mahabir." Major Hopps turned to another of G.M.'s colleagues. "Dr. Prescott? Do we have anything other than 'unknown' in our files?"
"I was just pulling that up, Major," Dr. Prescott said. "It seems that the device was recovered in 1973 amid the wreckage resulting from a visit by the Master. There's a brief description here - that does indeed correspond physically to the current device - and it includes this note: 'After consultation with an expert in extra-terrestrial technology, it is believed that this device is harmless. We are assured that a minimum of four devices are necessary to constitute a threat, and that lacking this number the device cannot activate.'"
"'An expert in extra-terrestrial technology', " Major Hopps repeated with a sigh. Everyone at UNIT knew that was code for the Doctor. "So why's it active now?" Major Hopps turned to look at Dr. Mahabir. "Do you have four of the damned things sitting on a shelf in your lab? Have we collected more of them recently?"
"No! Just the one, and we haven't collected anything in…" G.M. thought for a moment, but it was Dr. Prescott who answered.
"Two months, nineteen days, Major. I keep track of everything new that comes in to this lab."
"Do we have any idea why the device activated now, or what it is?" Major Hopps was clearly frustrated.
The scientific team stared blankly at one another. G.M. shrugged and turned to the Major. "No," he said, simply.
"Can you find out?"
"We can try." G.M. turned back to the monitors with determination.
Two hours later, the only thing that had changed was the countdown timer. They'd exhausted their options to no avail - neither Martha Jones nor Sarah Jane Smith had any useful information, and the Doctor was unreachable. G.M. tapped his fingers on the desk impatiently. They had one more option, but chances were Major Hopps wouldn't like it. He turned his chair around to face the major.
"What about calling Torchwood?" he asked.
Major Hopps looked up from his computer with a grimace. "I'd rather not involve them."
G.M. stood, pacing towards the major, hands gesturing nervously to the various monitors as he made his points. "We have nothing to go on. The device won't respond to anything we do. The readings have remained steady. This implies that either the device is static until it's set off, or that it's doing something that we can't see." Flinging his arms wide, he said, "We just don't know and aren't likely to find out unless something changes, and by then it could be too late."
Major Hopps frowned, leaning forward at his desk. "And what do you know about Torchwood, Dr. Mahabir? Hmm?"
"Well, their leader has been in recent contact with the Doctor."
"Torchwood One nearly destroyed the earth by opening it up to attack by both Daleks and Cybermen. To my mind, it takes a special kind of stupid to manage that. Torchwood Two may have been where the whole damn organization started, but now it's nothing but an old man of questionable sanity sitting in the middle of the Scottish moors. Torchwood Four is missing completely, subject, no doubt, to more of their arrogant machinations, while Torchwood Three has been steadily shrinking for a decade. This year alone, they had a forty percent casualty rate. How on earth do you think they could possibly help us?" The major's voice had remained steady, but he'd leaned towards G.M. intently as he spoke. The other scientists stopped working to watch the confrontation.
"Wasn't their leader an RAF Group Captain during the war?" Dr. Prescott asked. "One would think you'd get along well with him."
The major looked as though he would have choked, had he been drinking anything. "Jack Harkness? A former RAF Group Captain? You are sadly misinformed."
Dr. Prescott shrugged. "Does it really matter? We've got," he checked the current monitor view of the countdown, "a bit less than four hours to find an answer. Regardless, he has had recent contact with the Doctor."
The major looked like he wanted to say no, or at the very least protest further, but his eyes flicked to the view of the device quietly counting down on the monitor.
"Call Torchwood Three and pray we don't live to regret it," he said.
As G.M. grabbed the phone, he could hear Dr. Prescott mumble, "I just pray we live."
Cardiff, Wales
The restaurant wasn't posh, but the food was good and generally required that Jack use a knife and fork to eat, which was really all that Ianto required of a restaurant anymore. Chips were nice, but the way Jack used them to sop up gravy was less than appetising. For some reason, Jack tended to be more conscious of his manners in Italian restaurants, which was why Ianto had chosen one for their date.
Date. Ianto grabbed his glass of water and quickly gulped some down. Being on a date with Jack was new territory. Ianto knew how to make Jack smile at work, how to make him beg in bed, and how to keep the worst of the demons away during the night, but… date?
In some ways, he knew Jack better, more intimately, than anyone would on a first date. In other ways, he didn't know Jack at all. It was enough to make even the stoutest heart a tad nervous.
Jack plopped down into the seat across from Ianto and held out his hands. "Better?"
Ianto examined the hands carefully, turning them over and peering at the nails.
"Yup. No more Zicatrax goo," he said, starting to let go, but Jack just grinned and clasped his hand, lowering his own to the table and giving a little squeeze.
"Sorry," Jack said. "That stuff's invisible in dim lighting." He cocked an eyebrow. "Guess I should put 'change bulb in Jack's bathroom' on your list."
"I'll make a note of it," Ianto said. "And since you brought up work-"
"Sorry!"
"-I noticed the same car hanging around one of our clean-up sites this morning with the same earnest, young man behind the wheel. I think we need to find out what he's up to, since he doesn't seem to be taking in the sights or waiting for friends."
"Better have Gwen run the tags and do a background check. See what we're dealing with. Now, no more shop talk," Jack said firmly, then paused. Ianto wondered if Jack was only now realising that the only thing they ever talked about was work. Jack looked around.
"No food yet?" he asked.
"Should be any minute now," Ianto said, then spied their waiter coming over with plates. "Or sooner."
Jack's phone rang, and he answered automatically. "Lieutenant Erin Mallory, my favorite UNIT liaison!"
As the waiter served their dinner, Ianto eavesdropped on Jack's end of the conversation, trying to determine how serious the interruption was. UNIT had assigned them a liaison, but so far she'd only been trying to sweet-talk Gwen into opening up the Torchwood archives without being willing to reciprocate. Ianto had to give her points for tenacity. Jack had managed to block every attempt at a face-to-face meeting and she was still on the job.
"So, what is it today? More paperwork you need signed? A particularly nasty bit of red tape you're hoping to tangle me up in? If you're still going on about cross-training, the answer is-"
Ianto had just reached for a breadstick when Jack's voice cut off suddenly.
The waiter leaned close to Ianto and asked softly, "Is everything to your satisfaction, sir?"
"Fine," Ianto said. Watching as Jack straightened in his chair, smile gone, Ianto feared it wasn't.
"In binary? That's unusual," Jack said. "No. I can't tell without seeing it for myself. We could-"
Ianto grabbed the waiter's arm before he could leave. "I believe we'll need our check, if you please," he said quietly.
The young man nodded as if this kind of thing happened every day. "Of course, sir. Shall I box your meals for you?"
"How long?" Jack's tense question had Ianto shaking his head and pulling out money to pay for the meal. He spared one last look for his ziti and sausage in cream sauce before grabbing the breadsticks. At least they'd have something for their trouble.
"We're on our way," Jack said before hanging up. He stood reaching for his wallet, but Ianto stopped him.
"I already took care of it. Where are we off to?" he asked.
"London," Jack said. "Best speed."
"Keys," Ianto said firmly holding out his hand. Jack looked at him, startled. "That was the deal," Ianto said. "If you didn't buy me dinner tonight, I got to drive next time out. And clearly, you didn't pay for dinner, so I'm driving."
Jack shook his head, grinning, then tossed Ianto the keys before heading out of the restaurant. "Fine, but step on it. We don't have much time."
Jack slid into the passenger side of the SUV while Ianto started the engine. Grinning, he flipped open his vortex manipulator and began quickly keying in commands. Sure, it was work, but no one said work couldn't be fun.
"What's that for?" Ianto asked as he backed the large vehicle up and headed for the street.
"You get to drive," Jack lifted his arm tapping at his wriststrap, "I get to set the lights. Green all the way!"
"Just don't forget to set the caution light," Ianto warned. "Last time we nearly left some rather spectacular crack-ups in our wake."
"Hey, I said I was sorry! Don't worry about the lights. Besides," Jack said, sliding a sly look towards Ianto as he spoke, "you can't drive faster than I can fix the lights."
Ianto glanced at him, lips twitching upwards at the corners, before turning back to check carefully for traffic in each direction. The only warning Jack had was a very subtle revving of the engine before the SUV shot out onto the street, tires squealing.
"Yes!" Jack gave an internal fist pump as his fingers flew, setting Cardiff traffic patterns on their ear to keep motorists safe while Ianto pushed every last untested limit on the SUV's tolerances. It was a challenge to keep ahead of Ianto's driving all the way through Cardiff, but by the time they'd reached the M4, he'd only missed one light and Ianto had only missed one turn.
"Draw?" Jack asked, taking a moment to enjoy the sight of Ianto's grin and the firm, long fingers that grasped the wheel so confidently. Jack loved Ianto's hands and the way they gripped-
"Yup," Ianto agreed.
Daydreamus Interruptus. With one last admiring look at Ianto's hands - and a mental promise to pursue that thought later - Jack went back to considering the current situation. "I should call Gwen. Make sure she's at the Hub in case we need her. Think she's had supper yet?"
"Most likely," Ianto said. "Are you going to tell us what's going on?"
"As much as I can."
"We can't help if-" Ianto started, but Jack cut him off, exasperated.
"I only meant that I don't know much myself," he explained. "I'll call Gwen and fill both of you in at the same time. All right?"
A strained silence filled the space between them. Jack jerked the phone out of his coat, fingers stabbing the buttons as he began to dial Gwen's number, when Ianto reached over and laid a hand on his arm.
"Don't dial angry," he said, gently offering understanding while he teased Jack out of his bad humour.
Jack looked down at the hand before letting out a deep breath. "Isn't that supposed to be 'Don't drive angry?' Never did like that movie with Bill Murray and the gopher."
"Caddyshack?" Ianto asked, confused.
"No. The time loop with the… beaver?"
"Groundhog," Ianto said. "Groundhog Day."
Jack looked out the window for a moment. "Yeah. That one. Being stuck in a time loop isn't really that funny. Trust me." He could feel Ianto watching him, so he shrugged and smiled. "I'd better call now. Gwen won't be happy if we get all the way to London before she knows we're gone."
Jack dialed Gwen's number. She answered on the second ring. "Jack. What's happened? Never mind. I'm on my way."
Jack winced. Of course she'd assume there was a crisis. There was always a crisis. They needed to do something nice like have dinner together or... yeah. That had worked so well, hadn't it?
"Whoa! Don't hang up! I mean, yes. I need you to go to the Hub, but I need to explain what's going on first," Jack said. There was a pause from the phone.
"What is going on? My first evening home on time this week means this better be important!" Jack could hear a mumbled exchange as Gwen no doubt covered the receiver to speak to Rhys.
"Oh yeah, it's important. Ianto and I are on our way to London." He ignored her startled exclamation and continued. "UNIT found some kind of device that's running a countdown. Since the Doctor seemed to know what it was, and told them it was harmless by the way, seems they think I might know something about it."
"Do you? Is this… how bad is this, Jack?"
"I don't know. I won't know until I see it." There was another long pause, and Jack imagined Gwen leaning back into Rhys, seeking comfort. There was another quiet murmur barely heard over the phone.
"I'll head to the Hub then, yeah? Get everything ready. You can call me when you get there and I can run a search for the item. See if Torchwood has anything in the archives."
"Thanks, Gwen. Before you go…"
"Yeah?"
"Give Rhys a kiss for me, would you?" There was a bark of laughter over the phone; Jack could just hear Rhys' confused baritone in the background as Gwen managed to say good-bye and hang up.
"He's going to punch you again some day. You know that, right?" Ianto asked.
"He's gotta catch me first." Right then Jack's stomach gave a loud gurgle, reminding both of them that dinner had been left miles behind them in Cardiff.
"Pass me a breadstick, would you?" Ianto asked. "And I think there's a bottle of water in the back seat."
Jack grabbed the breadsticks, pulling a pack of biscuits and a candy bar from his coat - Ianto had frequently accused him of having hamster in his genetic tree - and they shared a quick meal as they settled in for the long haul. Traffic was heavy but moving well enough. Without any accidents, they should make it to London in under three hours.
Eighty kilometers down the road, Jack decided to check in with UNIT and make sure there was still a crisis. It wouldn't do to arrive and discover that the problem had already been solved but nobody had bothered to tell Torchwood. He was just hanging up from that call - countdown yet in progress - when his vortex manipulator beeped.
"Damn. Not good," Jack said checking the readings.
"Is he back?" Ianto asked, anger coloring his voice.
Jack looked over, surprised. White knuckles gripping the steering wheel, jaw clenched, Ianto radiated a controlled rage. "Is who back?"
"John Hart. The last time your strap did that-" One hand flexed on the wheel as Ianto changed lanes abruptly.
"Ah," Jack said with understanding. "No. It's picking up a change in temporal energy. A buildup. Centred on - oh, really not good." Jack double-checked the readings, running a quick search for similar events. He kept one eye on Ianto, giving him time to calm down. "Hey," he said finally. "Don't drive angry." Ianto let out a soft huff of amusement and Jack could see him start to relax.
"Let me guess. Centred on London?" Ianto asked.
"Good guess." Jack said. "I'm going to call Gwen again. I think we can use some of the equipment at the Hub to fine-tune the details."
It wasn't easy to scan beyond Cardiff for energy not related to the Rift. Having been built over time, the Hub was a patchwork quilt of brilliant ideas and alien technology, all held together with human ingenuity. What they needed the sensors to do now required re-setting and re-purposing several pieces of equipment scattered throughout the Hub on various levels, most of which hadn't been actively accessed in years. The first time Jack instructed Gwen to climb down to level two and enter coordinates, she went without complaint. The second time, she asked him if he was sure before she went. The third time, he heard a sharp clatter and several words spoken in Welsh that no one thought he knew the meaning of.
"Gwen?"
"That's enough, Jack. I can't keep climbing up and down, running back and forth, and having to stop what I'm doing and find a signal before I can ask you any questions. I need help. I'm calling Rhys."
"What? No. Gwen, we don't need him. He's a civilian and he doesn't know enough about the Hub to be of any help. He'll probably get eaten by Mfyanwy. We do not need him bumbling around in there."
Ianto took his eyes off traffic long enough to catch Jack's attention. "What - who got into the Hub?"
"No one," answered Jack. "Gwen wants to call her buddy-boy to help her with the equipment."
Ianto looked horrified and even let the car swerve slightly as he exclaimed, "She's letting P.C. Andy into our Hub?"
"Huh? P.C. Andy? No, no, worse than that. She wants to call in Rhys!"
"Oh." Ianto seemed mollified. He turned his attention back to the road, and absent-mindedly made a rude gesture to a car that had honked at them a moment earlier. "Rhys isn't so bad."
"Jack! I don't care-" Gwen started to protest.
"Gwen, look. I don't have time to argue about it. We're almost there and traffic is picking up. We should be getting our police escort soon, if UNIT remembered to order it. Just repeat those steps three more times for each of the modules and everything should be fine. Call me when you get it done. Whatever you do, do not call Rhys!"
Jack hung up quickly. He'd learned there really was no way to win an argument with Gwen except for ringing off. His phone rang. He checked the number. Amend that: no way to win an argument with her without hanging up and not picking it up the next couple of times she called back.
Ianto was grinning. "She'll ring him."
"No she won't. She wouldn't dare."
Ianto laughed. "Quid she does."
"You're on."
"You're too stubborn for your own good, you know," Ianto said, shaking his head.
Jack just grinned, relieved to be back on safe conversational ground again. Fast and loose came easy to him; in-depth and meaningful, not so much. Luckily, Ianto wasn't much better at it. If he was, they'd spend less time arguing and more time, well, contemplating each other's hands, and Ianto had some mighty fine hands.
"Jack. You're staring at my hands again."
"Am not. Okay. But they're nice hands." Jack shifted in his seat to get a better view of said hands.
Ianto glanced at him, shaking his head in apparent despair. "That's… I'd like to be supportive, but I think 'creepy' actually suits here."
"I bet you'd let Captain Picard stare at your hands." Ever since Ianto had told him about his boyhood crush on Jean-Luc Picard, Jack hadn't been able to resist teasing Ianto about it privately.
"Two words: James Tiberius Kirk," Ianto said.
"That's three, and I'd take Kirk over Picard anyday."
"Of course, you would."
They spent the rest of their time on the M4 discussing the relative merits of Captains Kirk and Picard, and whether Godzilla could take on the sandworms of Dune and win.
UNIT Lab V217, London
G.M. paused in the doorway to the control room as he caught sight of the prettiest redhead in a… he moved closer, circling slightly, so he could see her rank insignia. Ah. She was certainly the prettiest woman in a lieutenant's uniform that he had ever seen. Running a hand through his own wavy black hair, he approached her as she was talking to Major Hopps.
"Dr. Mahabir," the major said as he came closer. "Torchwood should be here within ten minutes. Lt. Mallory here is our liaison with them. I thought, perhaps, that you would like to collect them with her, since you seemed so anxious to get them here in the first place."
"Certainly!" G.M. said, extending a hand to Lt. Mallory. "Dr. Gajendra Mahabir."
"Lt. Erin Mallory. I'm pleased to meet you, Dr. Mahabir."
"All of my friends call me G.M."
"Of course," Lt. Mallory said politely.
"Best get moving, Lieutenant," Major Hopps said. "Don't want to keep Torchwood waiting. God only knows what trouble they'll cause unattended."
Exchanging a quick salute with the major, Lt. Mallory nodded at G.M. and led the way. G.M. had to hurry to keep up. Like most of the UNIT soldiers he'd met, she tended to walk quickly when assigned to a duty.
"So," he said, "how long have you been assigned as Torchwood liaison?"
"About six months."
"But you're not assigned to Cardiff? You work out of London?"
She turned to look at him, a knowing expression on her face. "Am I single?" she asked, cutting to the chase.
"Ah, yes," he said, grateful that his dark complexion tended to hide blushing fairly well.
"Sorry. My girlfriend and I just moved here from my posting in Greece. We're still getting all the boxes unpacked. So far, only two utterly irreplaceable things were destroyed by the movers."
"Ah," G.M. repeated. Beautiful, taken, and not his type, or rather, he wasn't her type. "Well, if you need any help finding restaurants or dry cleaners, let me know." He winced at how awkward that sounded, but Lt. Mallory didn't seem to mind.
"Thanks. I think we're good, but I'll keep that in mind." She held the door so he could go through first.
G.M. let his eyes wander over her cute freckles before sighing sadly and banishing the thought from his head. Perhaps she had a sister. He exited the building and leaned over the railing to watch the parking lot, Lt. Mallory choosing to stand beside him. The sirens of the approaching police cars wailed into the still night air, getting ever closer, until they suddenly cut off - no need for an escort beyond the gates of the complex. The growl of one powerful engine grew louder as a black SUV roared into sight, tearing across the parking lot to come to a screeching halt in front of them.
"From what I hear," Lt. Mallory said, leaning in confidentially, "we're going to love this next bit."
The man's foot hit the ground while the door was still swinging open. Boot, leg, greatcoat, and an impressive frame unfolding as the man's eyes swept the area and locked on them. He smiled, and GM heard his own breath hitch with Lt. Mallory's. Seems no matter which way you swung, this one would make you reconsider your options. The man pivoted, coat flaring, drawing GM's eye to the driver who'd quietly slipped around to the boot. And now he, too, came forward, leather case slung over his shoulder and an intense, assessing gaze. The two men leaned towards each other, conferring softly, before striding over to greet them.
Lt. Mallory stepped forward, offering them a sharp salute as she introduced herself. "Captain Harkness. Mr. Jones. Lt. Erin Mallory, UNIT liaison to Torchwood."
The man in the coat offered a crisp salute of his own, still smiling, before offering Lt. Mallory his hand. "Captain Jack Harkness, at your service. Believe me, if I'd known how pretty you were, I'd have said yes to that cross-training."
"Once this is resolved, I'll get it scheduled, then."
"I said if. Sorry. You're gorgeous, but UNIT still hasn't put anything we can use on the table."
"Captain Harkness-" Lt. Mallory began to protest.
"Call me Jack."
"Jack." The quiet voice from the Captain's partner carried an urgent tone that caught everyone's attention. "Maybe we should save the posturing, flirting, or whatever else you're doing for later and continue the introductions en route. I believe we're under a time constraint?"
"Right." Captain Harkness checked his watch. "Down to under twenty minutes."
"You're right, of course, Mr. Jones," Lt. Mallory said, opening the door crisply and ushering them all inside.
"Call him Ianto," Captain Harkness instructed. "Easier that way. Now, what can you tell me about the device?"
"Ah," G.M. said, "I found it. In my lab." Once again he was forced to trot in order to keep up with the long strides of the others. There must be something about the military that gave one the ability to walk preternaturally fast. "Doctor Gajendar Mahabir, by the way, but you can call me G.M." He tried a smile of his own and was rewarded by a quick grin from Captain Harkness.
"Only if you call me Jack." G.M. felt like a student again as Captain Harkness's sharp eyes looked him up and down, finally giving him a wink.
"Dear God. It's just a reflex with you, isn't it?" Ianto asked. "G.M., do you have any better idea of what it is than you did when we were first contacted?"
"No. Sadly, all of our tests continue to come back with the same information. Unless this is some elaborate prank, it's totally beyond our current level of technology. I very much hope you'll be able to help us."
"We'll know soon enough," Lt. Mallory said effectively cutting off the conversation. She hurried them straight to the control room, which was now over-flowing with scientists from all of the major departments. G.M. dashed forward to open the door.
"Glad to see they're expecting us," Jack said, pushing into the room with a flick of his coat.
Major Hopps stood as they entered, letting his displeasure show as he fixed the two men from Torchwood with a steely gaze. G.M., fearing more time wasted on argument, hustled them past the major and pointed to the device on the monitors. Jack leaned over the desk, studying the various views on the cameras.
"Fourteen minutes. No change?" G.M. asked hopefully.
"Not a one," Dr. Prescott said, amid a chorus of agreement from the others. G.M. tapped the desk worriedly, then turned to watch Jack, who straightened abruptly and pulled out his cell phone, hitting speed dial and waiting only a moment before someone answered.
"Gwen. I-" Jack said. "Oh. Hello, Rhys. So glad you could join us." Jack turned slightly to glance at Ianto, who seemed to be hiding a smile. "I need to speak to Gwen." Pause. "Yes! Right now." Jack glared, fingers tight on the phone as he waited, longer this time. "Gwen. So nice to know it's Take Your Husband to Work day. Can you- We'll talk about it later. Right now, I really need to know that you finished those adjustments." Jack smiled. "Great! Now, give me the readings, top and bottom." Gradually, the smile slipped, and he brought up one hand to rub his brow, finally shaking his head and, without another word, thrusting the phone to Ianto. He grabbed G.M. by the shoulder and ordered, "Take me to the device."
G.M. nodded, turning towards the door only to find Major Hopps squaring his broad shoulders as he placed himself between them and the exit.
"I'm afraid that's against protocol, Captain," Major Hopps said.
"Screw protocol. I need to get in there."
"Excuse me, Captain," Major Hopps replied, making it clear he felt Jack didn't deserve the title, "I will not 'screw protocol'."
"Look, Major-"
"Can you deactivate it?" G.M. interrupted the confrontation, feeling the seconds passing. Two fierce glares turned on him, making him shiver, but he stood firm. "Look, there's no time to fight! Jack, can you deactivate the device or not?" He could feel the entire room holding its breath, all the attention focused on Jack.
"No. But I can pause it."
G.M.'s heart thudded frantically at the "no," but at the second comment, he turned pleading eyes to the major, whose gaze was locked on Jack. Three more seconds wasted before Hopps made his decision.
"Go," he said to G.M. The major spun on his heel, slapping one sturdy hand against the intercom. As G.M. lunged for the door, motioning Jack and Ianto to come with him, he heard the major speaking to the lieutenant manning the primary containment room. "Let Torchwood into the room."
"Yes, sir," the lieutenant said. "Protocol requires that I-"
"Screw protocol, Lieutenant. Let them in immediately."
G.M., Jack and Ianto rounded the corner at a dead run. The lieutenant sitting behind the grey metal desk - military chic - leapt to his feet at their approach and entered a code on the keypad affixed to the equally grey wall. The massive steel doors began to slide open. Ianto felt the vibration in the floor immediately, the vague thrum of powerful machinery reminding him of the Hub; it was about the only thing that did in this warren of clean, sterile hallways, neat desks and sleek equipment. Everything here screamed 'superiority,' laced with a dash of arrogance. UNIT wasn't Torchwood One - its employees took pains to make that clear - but the familiar slick surfaces and distant thrum of motors made Ianto's spine prickle unpleasantly.
They skidded to a halt, with G.M. shifting nervously from foot to foot while waiting for the gap between the doors to widen.
"Ianto, you should wait out here," Jack said, pointing to the desk.
Ianto turned to him. "Why?"
"I'm not one hundred percent certain what will happen when I go in there. I've read about these things, but I've never seen one."
"Come on," G.M. called, motioning to them as he dodged through the narrow opening.
Jack looked at the size of the opening and barked a laugh. "Damn. He's flexible, and scientists in lab coats are skinnier than Captains in greatcoats."
"I'm coming with you, " Ianto said, ignoring Jack's deflection.
Jack shook his head. "I don't want you in there if I'm wrong."
"And I've brought some of our equipment that might help . Besides, if you really thought you were wrong, you'd have ordered me to stay here." With that, he slipped through the doors and hurried after G.M. There was a not-so-muffled curse from Jack, followed a moment later by the clacking of the buttons on his greatcoat as he squeezed through, then the sound of footsteps following Ianto down the hall.
The solid thump of the outer doors closing again gave the hallway an odd, dead feel as the air fell still and the background noise abruptly cut off. The only sound for was their own panting breaths until the thrum of the inner doors' opening shivered through the floor and hummed in their ears.
"Nice set-up," Jack said to G.M., who was once again jogging in place. Ianto was pretty sure the doctor was chanting "come on, come on, come on" under his breath.
"Yes. Very safe, but very slow," G.M. said. Once again, he squeezed through first, but this time Jack just shrugged. Ianto smiled at the thought that they were being sorted for size like apples or tomatoes. He took quick note of the room: one exit, equipment along the walls, view screens currently showing the room they'd left minutes ago, and a layer of transparent shielding nearer the ceiling. Looked a bit like an operating theater at a hospital. G.M. led Jack straight to the centre of the room, pointing to the device expectantly.
Jack stared at it for a moment before reaching out. Ianto thought it looked like an odd coffee urn, and as Jack's hands hung in the air in front of it, the whole scene reminded him of a cartoon. "G.M.," Jack asked, "your scans show that the top can be turned, don't they?"
"Our scans show that the top is a separate piece of metal, but we don't know the significance of that. Apparently in the late 1970's they tried to open it by unscrewing-"
Jack didn't wait for him to finish. "Yeah, I thought so. The top turns."
Ianto could hear G.M. nervously counting down the seconds as Jack continued to hesitate, arms still stretched out towards the device. Finally, Jack picked it up by the handle, placing his other hand on the top and taking a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he muttered, "Here goes nothing." With that, he twisted the top. It turned with a click, and the row of lights all went yellow. Steady yellow. Steady, unchanging yellow. The countdown had stopped.
A strange, subtle hiss came from the speakers mounted on the walls near each of the view screens. For an instant Ianto was puzzled, until he realized that everyone in the control room had been holding their breath; the sound had been all of them exhaling at once. Then he also realized he was holding his own breath. He too gave a sigh of relief. A moment later, the control room broke out into a celebration of back slaps, handshakes, and cheers.
"Dr. Mahabir." Major Hopps' voice sounded loud even over the control room chatter. "Please verify that the countdown is halted."
"Yes," G.M. reported, grinning like a madman. "The lights are glowing a steady yellow." Gesturing from Jack to the table, he asked, "Can you put the device down so I can inspect it? How long will this last?"
"Ah…" Jack said. "See, that's just it. I can't let go or the countdown starts again. The top is just a simple mechanical device. Twist it one way and hold it, the device is paused; let it go and everything snaps back into place and the countdown resumes. One device, one pause. If I let go, we've got less than ten minutes until this thing goes off."
Damn! Well, there was the other shoe dropped. Ianto set his equipment case down, not sure how he could help yet. Jack shrugged, giving him a reassuring wink.
"Gentlemen, please!" Ianto jumped at the shout, but it was just Major Hopps calling the control room to order. "Thank you. Now, Captain Harkness, am I to understand that you have to remain in actual contact with the device at all times in order to hold the countdown?"
"This was just supposed to be a last minute pause; time enough for your transport to arrive, something like that." Jack held the device up towards the cameras. "They didn't want anyone to be able to stop the countdown with a quick disarm and then walk away."
"I see." A couple of seconds ticked by. "Can you brief us on the item?"
"Anything I can do to help, but I really hate talking through a camera," Jack said. He nodded towards the rest of the room. "Why don't you and your staff join us down here? You can bring the refreshments, and some chairs. This room could do with some chairs."
"Captain," the major said, a note of warning in his voice. "That room serves a purpose, in case you hadn't noticed."
Jack sighed. "Yeah. Look, this isn't a bomb. If I let it go, it won't go off, it'll just continue the countdown. It's safe. You have my word. Hey, I can come up there if you'd rather, but I figured you wouldn't want me to trip on my way over."
Ianto watched Jack and the major take each other's measure, the tension palpable through the monitors. Jack's expression was calm, his body slouched, leaning slightly against the table, as if the item in his hands really was filled with coffee. The major frowned down at him, his stiff posture defining proper angles of shoulder and arm, leaning across one of the desks in the control room as if he could push himself through the camera. Several taut seconds passed. Ianto felt himself relax when Major Hopps gave a sharp nod, ceding the victory to Jack and ending the confrontation.
"Very well," he said. A brief, cool smile crossed his lips. "Shan't need to tell you to stay put then, shall I?"
Ianto turned back to Jack. "You all right?" he asked, not sure how he could help but willing to try. At times like this, he felt he understood Jack best. Needing to help, but instead being helpless: he imagined this was how Jack felt, watching time and lives drift past him without being able to hold on to them.
"Yeah. Fine so far, but I'm going to get awfully tired of this position in a couple of hours."
"You can move around though, yes?" G.M. asked.
"As long as I'm careful," Jack said. "I really can't afford to drop this thing. I'm pretty sure that this device won't go on hold a second time."
"Can we switch off?" Ianto asked, considering how they could make this bearable.
"You mean take turns?" Jack asked. Ianto nodded. "I don't know. Maybe? We probably shouldn't try it unless it's absolutely necessary. The consequences…" Jack shrugged again, shaking his head, before standing up and giving his entire body a shake. G.M.'s breath caught and he stepped back, eyes wide, but Jack just stretched a little before looking around the room.
"It's okay, really," Jack reassured G.M. "Hey, this is a pretty nice containment room. Sturdy. State of the art, right?"
"UNIT utilised the most current data in its design. Normally, we'd be using those to manipulate the alien artifact." G.M. gestured to the rows of mechanical devices against one wall. "R.I.M.s. Robotic Interface Mechanoids."
"Nice. I like the name," Jack said, grinning. Ianto joined him in examining the robots. Long arms with grabber appendages attached to sturdy, fat-wheeled bodies bristling with cameras and sensors. Thankfully, they didn't look the least bit humanoid.
G.M. was giving them a more thorough tour of the room when Ianto felt another vibration and heard the low hum of the doors opening. Catching Jack's eye and sharing a nod, he stepped quickly over to retrieve his equipment case. He didn't actually expect UNIT to betray them, but working for Torchwood had taught him a certain amount of caution. Besides, Jack was paranoid enough for the both of them, and with his hands occupied, it would be up to Ianto to deal with any physical threats. He positioned himself to one side and slightly in front of Jack.
G.M. trotted over to help as UNIT soldiers entered the room. Ianto watched, taking special note when a corporal wheeling a large, black leather office chair approached them.
"Major Hopps suggested this might be best, sir. Said it's more comfortable than those," he said, giving a nod to the half-dozen folding chairs being set up along with a table.
Ianto waited, taking his cues from Jack, who studied the chair a moment, glancing about the room at the other preparations, before grinning at the corporal.
"I won't talk, even if you put me in the comfy chair," Jack quipped.
Ianto rolled his eyes at the reference, but the corporal returned the grin. "I don't know about that, sir. You see, we have three main weapons here at UNIT."
"Fear!" Jack was enjoying himself.
"Surprise!" So was the corporal. Another convert to Torchwood via the dubious mechanism of ensemble comedy. Ianto rolled his eyes at the simultaneous cries of "Uniforms!"
Major Hopps entered, calling the handful of UNIT soldiers and scientists to order and requesting they take their seats quickly. The corporal hastily pushed the chair over the to table as the major took a seat.
"Nice chair. Good lumbar support," Jack said, sitting across from Major Hopps. Ianto stood guard near Jack, keeping a close eye on the others.
"Captain," the major said, motioning towards the device in Jack's hands. "I'm sure that you're as anxious to be rid of that thing as we are. I'd appreciate a thorough briefing with as little sideshow as possible."
"All right. It's a time lock," Jack said without preamble. "Time Lord technology, as I'm sure you've guessed by now. By itself, it's harmless. But with three other devices, it's dangerous as hell. Together, they can take a place, or an event, out of time. In theory, it could lock the entire planet out of time forever unless we can locate the other devices and remove one of the four out of the sequence."
Quiet, followed by a cacophony of voices as the scientists all began asking questions at once.
"Gentlemen!" Major Hopps quelled the disturbance with a glance. "Captain, what exactly does it mean to be locked out of time? Surely, if it's meant to stop all contact with the rest of the galaxy, perhaps the Doctor has enabled them as a means to protect us from something?"
Jack's laugh was harsh, a quick bark of sound followed by a shake of his head. "It depends. Which few seconds of time would you like to be caught in for the rest of eternity? This," Jack raised the device from the table, "isn't a safety lock, it's a prison door."
"Why would the Time Lords have built anything like this?" G.M. asked.
"I can make a guess or two, but it's not something the Doctor ever discussed with me. You'll have to ask him."
"Captain Harkness, we called you in because certain members of our staff thought your connection to the Doctor would give you greater insight into the workings of this device."
One of the UNIT science staff - a Dr. Maxwell, Ianto noted with a quick glance at the security badge - addressed Jack haughtily. He was a thin man with a pinched face and superior expression. G.M. glared at the fellow as he continued speaking.
"If you don't actually have any further information, I suggest you let those of us with scientific training make the evaluations."
"Great. So, I suppose you can work out exactly where the other three devices can be found?" Jack asked. "Because everybody knows they need to be placed at equidistant positions around the globe in order to activate. And of course, you'll already know just what happens when they're activated. Hey, I know! Maybe you can check the user's manual." Jack made a show of lifting the item and twisting it this way and that as if looking for something.
"Why equidistant?" G.M. asked hastily before Dr. Maxwell could respond.
"Because if they're not in that position to within a few feet, they won't activate," Jack said. "But, hey. Dr. Maxwell here could have told you that, right?"
"Look, Captain-" Maxwell started to speak indignantly, but Major Hopps interrupted him.
"Dr. Maxwell, please be quiet. Captain Harkness?"
Jack held still for a long moment before nodding. "Okay. Once activated, they start gathering temporal energy until they reach the necessary threshold to set a permanent time loop, effectively taking their target out of time. The countdown is just an indication of how much time is left until enough energy is stored."
"Do you know how to stop the countdown?" Major Hopps asked.
"Remove, as in physically moving, one of the devices from its current location."
"But, haven't we already moved this one?" G.M. asked. "If the coordinates must be as exact as you claim, then the countdown should have ended."
"The longer the countdown continues, the more temporal energy the device stores, the farther it has to be moved to break the connection and stop the countdown," Jack said. "By now, this device probably has to be moved thousands of miles away from here."
"But," Major Hopps asked, "it could still be moved?"
"As long as I go with," Jack said. "Where it goes, I go, and vice versa. There'd always be some risk of dropping the device during transport, so moving wouldn't be my first choice."
"What about binding the artifact to your hands?" Dr. Maxwell suggested. Ianto frowned, not liking the idea of Jack being bundled off onto a UNIT plane with his hands bound. "After all," the man continued, "we have developed some very successful industrial adhesives that should-"
"I think," Ianto said firmly, fixing the doctor with a glare, "we should concentrate on finding the other devices and moving them, keeping this one in reserve as a last resort."
"I agree," the major said. "We shouldn't risk the hazards of moving this device until we've collected at least one of the others. Unless it's absolutely necessary, of course, in which case I'll have transport standing by."
"But how are we going to locate any of the other devices?" G.M. asked. "Three more, at equidistant points around… what? The Earth? London? We could be searching for the rest of our lives and never find them! I doubt Jack can hold on for that long, even if we're assuming that the device itself doesn't have a time-out and won't restart the countdown again on its own."
Jack leaned in the chair and tilted his head back to look at Ianto. "We'll need to coordinate the search with Gwen. The Hub's sensors are already reconfigured; she'll just need to use my wriststrap to detect the temporal energy."
Ianto considered for a moment, then nodded. "I'll call ahead and tell her to alert the council that we're going to be drawing extra power. How are we going to transport that?" Ianto pointed at the wriststrap.
"You'll take it," Jack said.
Ianto frowned, uneasy at the thought of leaving Jack alone and completely at UNIT's mercy.
"Captain, I'm not sure that's such a good idea," the major said.
Ianto blinked, startled to hear UNIT voice his own objection to the plan.
"Well, I don't see that we have an option," Jack said. "It's not like Gwen's going to let you guys into the Hub without one of us being present."
"You've already said we can't move the device. Fine. I'll take your word for it." Major Hopps leaned forward, brows furrowed, studying Jack. "But as long as we're dependent on that one device to save the Earth, time is of the essence. We don't have three hours to spare for Mr. Jones to drive back to Cardiff. Isn't there some way we can use UNIT technology to interface with your equipment, thus saving time and keeping all of us in one place?"
"Why, Major Hopps," Jack said, his tone thick with insincere friendliness. "I'd almost think that you don't trust me."
"Why, Captain Harkness, I'd almost think that you don't trust us." Major Hopps spoke dryly, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms.
Ianto took in the intent stares of the others. It seemed they were at an impasse, and Jack notoriously hated to give in. "One moment please. Hold on, Jack." Grabbing the chair, Ianto deftly rolled Jack away from the table.
"Hey!" Jack protested.
Ianto knelt beside the chair. "There's nothing wrong with his plan. Besides, if I leave, you'll be unprotected."
"It's not like they could kill me," Jack said. Ianto's eyebrow rose skeptically. "Permanently, anyway."
"The point isn't whether you'd die," Ianto said, exasperated. "The point is whether you need to. Besides, if I stay, I might be able to pry some UNIT secrets out of G.M."
"Who says I couldn't pry them out of him?" Jack asked.
"No hands, you'll have to do it with charm alone."
"I'm charming!" Jack protested.
"Yes, but I'll be working with him to adapt the interface technology. It'll be easier for me."
"Ah, about that, I don't want UNIT to find out more about my wriststrap than they need to."
"Don't worry. I think I can keep them guessing easily enough," Ianto said.
Apparently tired of waiting, the major strode over to Jack and Ianto. "Gentlemen, can I have your decision? I'd like to begin as soon as possible."
"Well," Jack said, "if your equipment is up to our standards, I think we can make it work without moving my wriststrap back to Cardiff."
"You'll have access to everything you need to interface our systems. I'll place some of our staff at your disposal."
Dr. Maxwell, who had moved close enough to hear the major's final statement, hurried over with a frown. "Sir! From all reports, their Hub is a cobbled together mishmash of barely-functioning alien technology. We have perfectly good equipment here. We don't need their help."
"Equipment that was completely unable to detect any readings from this item? Is that the equipment you're referring to, Dr. Maxwell?" Jack asked, waving the item he held towards the doctor.
Maxwell looked like he wanted to protest, but the major turned away from him, speaking to Jack and Ianto.
"I'll alert UNIT bases worldwide in order to coordinate the search teams. If you get me the coordinates, I'll supply the manpower."
Ianto glanced about the room. It seemed that, despite all the shiny toys and cutting-edge technology, UNIT needed Torchwood to save the day. He caught Jack's gaze.
Jack nodded, considering. "We'll need to interface my wriststrap with your tech in order to receive the data from the Hub. It won't be too difficult. Ianto and G.M. should be able to get that working by the time Gwen can run the necessary scans."
Ianto kept his expression bland, knowing how easily, almost eagerly, Jack's wriststrap interfaced with every piece of electronics it encountered. Obviously, something Jack didn't want UNIT to know. Ianto nodded, backing Jack's play. "I'll get Gwen on the phone while you're doing that. She and Rhys can get started."
"It should work. Major, we have a plan," Jack said.
"Excellent. Dr. Mahabir, I'm placing you at their disposal. Whatever it takes to get those coordinates. Lieutenant Mallory!"
"Sir!" The lieutenant stepped forward.
"Your duty is to see to the safety of this room, and that," the major pointed at the odd coffee urn as Jack flexed his fingers against the top, "and the Captain are your top priority. Protect them at all costs. Captain Harkness. Mr. Jones." Major Hopps shifted to them. "Whatever you require will be provided." With that, he turned on his heel and headed for the exit.
Jack called after him. "Coffee would be nice. Maybe a sandwich." As if on cue, a loud gurgle came from Jack's stomach. As the major called one of the soldiers to see to Torchwood's needs, Jack shrugged and looked at G.M. and Lt. Mallory. "What? I missed dinner."
Countdown: Part Two