‘Jack, are you there?’
‘Yeah, James. We were worried about you. Where a—’
‘Jack, listen to me. Something’s going on. Something wrong.’
‘James, what do you—’
‘Just listen. I haven’t got much time to talk. They’re after me.’
‘Who’s after you, James?’
‘The men. For Christ’s sake, Jack, help me. I’m going crazy here. Talk to Owen. Owen can tell you about it. Tell him I said it was OK to tell you.’
‘James,’ said Jack carefully. ‘I think I already know. Owen didn’t need to tell me.’
There was a long silence.
‘Oh,’ said James. ‘OK. That’s good, then. I trust you, Jack. I trust you.’
‘Glad to hear it. What kind of trouble are we talking? Scale of one to ten?’
‘Twenty-seven, you idiot! Please!’
The line muffled for a moment. There were some indistinct noises.
‘James? James, are you there?’
‘Jack, they’re coming! They’re—’
‘CALL ENDED’ read the screen of Jack’s phone.
‘Did you get it?’ Jack asked. ‘Please tell me you got it.’
Ianto nodded. ‘GPS is just punching it up. Phone location...’ He looked at Jack. ‘Phone location two hundred and thirty-three yards south of that Mall.’
‘I’ll start the car,’ said Owen.
The dead centre of Cardiff: gleaming shops and boutique arcades, and bold new developments overlapping with the last relics of the City’s poorer past. Saturday afternoon, a weak sun smiling, the town crawling with the retail-hungry and the credit card debt-addicted.
The black SUV ploughed through the inner-city traffic, anonymous as a storm cloud.
They pulled up on double yellow lines and got out. Jack, Toshiko and Owen.
‘Ianto?’ Jack asked into his Bluetooth.
‘Hearing you.’
‘Fix?’
‘You’re right on it.’
Jack looked around at the other two. ‘Boiled egg,’ he said.
Side by side, they began to run.
James looked up and down the tiled cavity of the underpass. He stuffed his phone back into his pocket. No signal.
Traffic thumped by overhead. He took a step towards the east end of the underpass.
The man in dark jeans appeared, walking slowly down the slope towards him. James switched back. The blond man in the suit came down the steps to the west.
James tried to back away from both advancing figures, a feat he quickly realised was technically impossible.
He held out his palms in either direction.
‘That’s far enough!’ he barked. His voice echoed along the little tunnel.
They slowed down, but continued to advance.
‘I mean it!’ James cried.
They halted.
‘I want you to leave me alone. Leave me alone!’
That is not possible, ever.
‘What?’
The safety of the Principal is our paramount concern.
‘Which of you said that? Who said that?’
The dark-haired man took a step closer.
‘Whoa! No you don’t!’ James exclaimed.
The dark-haired man stopped.
We are here only to protect the Principal.
‘Yeah, so you said.’
Your actions and behaviour are contrary to the Principal’s best interests.
‘Great. Maybe I can help with that.’
The blond man smiled. ‘That is unlikely. You have been compromised.’
‘I’ve been what?’
‘You have been compromised,’ said the dark-haired man. ‘Your investment has been damaged and, as a result, your self-protection protocols have been compromised.’
‘I really don’t understand,’ said James, keeping his hands raised, aimed at both of them.
‘That is the point,’ said the blond man. ‘You don’t understand. By now, you should, but you clearly don’t. We see this. This proves your investment has compromised you.’
‘Lower your hands,’ said the dark-haired man.
‘Just explain... please. Explain what you mean,’ James said, keeping his hands up.
The blond man sighed. ‘Explanation should not be necessary. The jeopardy upload should have re-installed your base consciousness by now. This also proves that your self-protection protocols have been compromised. You should know yourself and understand this situation. You should not be resisting. You should be ready and willing for extraction.’
‘Well, I’m not,’ said James, ‘whatever that means.’
‘You are—’ the dark-haired man began.
‘You, shut up,’ warned James. ‘I’m listening to you both. I want to understand, but you’re going to have to start making sense really soon. Speak plainly. Explain it in terms I can grasp.’
‘Plainly?’ asked the dark-haired man.
‘Information evidently must be seated in terms that can be understood using this milieu’s frames of reference,’ said the blond man. ‘Like the fact that chocolate ice cream... is animal fats and flavourings, pretty much.’
The dark-haired man looked uncertain. ‘None of this is important. Only the duty is important. The Principal must be protected and recovered.’
He moved forwards.
‘Back off!’ cried James.
The dark-haired man did just that. With a groof! of punched-out air, he flew back down the underpass and fell down, rolling hard.
The blond man sprang at James. James tried to ward him off, but the blond man clutched him tightly.
James swung around and slammed the blond man into the wall. Tiles shattered and flew off their cement settings.
The blond man dug his fingers in tighter, and James whirled him in the opposite direction. Another wall, another impact. Yet more cracked and fragmented tiles.
Don’t do this. Don’t do it. This is a mistake. You will come to see that. This is an ugly thing that stains my duty and tarnishes my—
‘Shut up!’ James cried. He wheeled around and threw the blond man into the ceiling. The blond man crunched into one of the recessed lights and shattered it.
He fell onto the floor, landing on his hands and knees in a rain of clear plastic debris.
The dark-haired man was running at James. James reached out and his fist connected. The dark-haired man turned three, boneless somersaults on his way back down the underpass.
James turned and made his escape. He took the underpass steps three at a time. He heard sounds behind him.
He ran off down the street, and jinked left into a residential side-street, a quiet, exclusive mews.
He glanced behind him.
They were coming after him. They had changed. They had revealed their true forms.
They were grey shades, thorny shadows from the high walls in his dream, leaping and scurrying, like whispers, like wraiths. They were barbed, and armed for killing.
They ran faster than he could. They were made that way. They ran faster, leaping, bounding, closing the distance. They made no sound. Not even footsteps.
Still running, he looked over his shoulder. The shades were there.
One pounced—
TWENTY-EIGHT
Jack’s Webley went off, deafeningly loud in the narrow mews.
He was flanked by Toshiko and Owen. Both of them had side-arms aimed, circling, hunting for targets. Jack held up the black tile. Its surface danced with lights.
‘Know what this is? Anyone? Anyone?’ Jack called out.
James sank to the ground at their feet, panting.
‘Jack?’ he gasped. ‘Jack? They’re right behind me’
‘It’s OK.’ Jack told him. Jack kept the tile held up high.
‘Come on. Are you a coward? I’m just a guy with an old gun and few friends. You afraid of that? I don’t think so. I’ve seen you. I’ve seen you take down a Serial G with your bare hands. You’re a proper killing machine.
Nothing like me, I’m a pussycat. You could take me, pop, just like that. So stop being coy. Damn well show yourself.’
‘Oh crap,’ Owen breathed.
Smoky grey shapes prowled forwards into the mews from the shadows. A pair of them. They were there and they weren’t there, like subliminal messages or peripheral images. Grey thorns rippled and swirled, fading in and out of real-time.
‘OK,’ said Toshiko, swallowing, ‘two of them?’
‘Doesn’t matter,’ Jack replied quietly. ‘One would be enough to kill us. Two, what’s the difference? We can only be so dead.’
‘I love it when you’re jolly,’ said Toshiko.
Jack waggled the tile. ‘You’re busy,’ he called out to the grey shapes. ‘I realise that. Busy and intent on your purpose. That’s fine. We won’t get in your way. Hell, we couldn’t if we wanted to. Just tell me something. Do you know what this is?’
Yes, Jack Harkness.
Jack winced. The words had passed through him like a knife. He forced up a smile. ‘Great. So, are you going to tell me about it?’
The two grey things in the limits of the shadows swished and bristled their thorny backs.
‘Here’s an idea,’ said Jack. ‘Look me in the eye. Look me in the eye, you sons of bitches.’
The grey things growled. One moved forward, its thorny greyness pouring off it like folds of dirty smoke.
It re-formed as its invested self melted away. It became a lean, blond man wearing a black suit. It stepped towards Jack.
‘You got a name?’ Jack asked.
‘Yes,’ said Mr Dine.
TWENTY-NINE
‘This wide open enough for you?’ Jack asked.
He and the individual called Mr Dine were walking down Mermaid Quay towards the Bay. It was getting late and growing dark. The sky was smudging over. There was a threat of rain on the wind.
Jack gestured to a bench facing the railings and the sea.
Mr Dine nodded and they sat down. Mr Dine kept glancing back down the Quay. Mr Lowe was following them at a distance, a sliver of shadow.
‘Your pal, he doesn’t like this, does he?’ Jack asked.
‘No,’ said Mr Dine. ‘Mr Lowe has only recently been inserted here. He does not understand the nuances of this place or your society.’
‘And you do?’
‘Not terribly well,’ admitted Mr Dine. ‘Better than my colleague, I think.’ Jack nodded.
They looked at the sea.
‘Where are you from?’ Mr Dine asked.
‘Not from round here,’ Jack replied.
‘I realised that.’
‘You?’
‘I’m from precisely around here, Captain,’ replied Mr Dine.
‘Because of the Rift, right?’
Mr Dine thought for a moment. ‘Rift? Is that what you call it?’
Jack nodded.
‘That’s nice. That’s a better name than ours.’
‘What do you call it, then?’
‘The word we use literally translates as “the Stumble” or the “the Misstep”. We usually refer to it as “the Border”.’
‘OK. The Border’s been here a long time.’
‘For as long as we can remember. The First Senior is dedicated to guarding it.’
‘First Senior?’ asked Jack.
‘Us.’
‘Uh-huh. Torchwood is dedicated to guarding it too, from this side.’
‘I know. That is why the Principal was inserted amongst you. You are the most interesting and compelling thing on this part of the border.’
‘Yeah, what does inserted mean?’
‘We have intercourse with you. Sometimes aggressive intercourse.’
‘I’m sure you do. Not tonight though, baby. I’m not in the mood.’
Mr Dine considered Jack’s remark and laughed. ‘That is a sexual joke. It contains intentional ambiguity that makes it funnier.’
‘Hey, I’m here all week,’ said Jack, ‘don’t forget your waitress.’
Mr Dine frowned. ‘Do you mean Shiznay?’
‘I don’t know who Shiznay is,’ said Jack.
Mr Dine smiled and shook his head. ‘In that case, you have lost me. You have made a cultural reference that is outside my investment data-archive. I’m sure it was funny, though.’
‘Not really. So tell me about James,’ Jack said.
Gwen walked into the Hub. Her face was pale and drawn. She had been crying a lot for quite a while.
‘Where is he?’ she asked. ‘I want to see him.’
‘Just hold on,’ said Jack.
‘No, Jack. I bloody won’t just hold on. I want to see him. I need to.’
Behind Jack, Toshiko and Owen sat at their stations, watching Gwen. They both looked shaken too.
‘Gwen,’ said Jack.
‘I forgot him, Jack,’ she said quietly. ‘I just forgot him. Everything about him and about us just went out of my mind and left a horrible gap. It’s as if he was never really there.’
‘That’s kind of the point, I think,’ said Jack.
‘How could I just forget him?’ she moaned.
‘As I understand it, there’s a certain range involved. The camouflage effect, the ability to blend in, it only works up to a certain distance. A hundred or so miles. A hundred miles from wherever James is. You went out of range, Gwen.’
‘And he just slipped my mind? That’s mad.’
‘But you know it’s true, right?’ asked Jack.
Gwen nodded. ‘I know that, once I’d forgotten him, it broke the spell. As I came back, the memories, the feelings, they all returned too, but they weren’t the same. I could see them for what they were. I could see they were lies.’ She looked at Jack, fiercely. ‘I don’t like lying.’
‘If it’s worth anything, he didn’t know he was lying,’ said Jack.
‘What is he?’ Gwen asked.
Jack smiled sadly. ‘That’s the worst thing, you know? The worst thing of all. He’s James. He is James. Except there is no James Mayer.’
James rose off a chair and stood facing them as Jack and Gwen entered the Boardroom.
He went to hold Gwen, but she backed away sharply.
‘Gwen?’ James asked.
‘We have to talk, James,’ Jack said. ‘We have to talk about stuff, and it’s not going to be an easy talk. But I want you to hear it from me.’
‘I don’t... I don’t get any of this...’ James said.
‘Well, you will. You don’t get it because you’ve been hurt. Damaged, I suppose I should say. The bit of you that should switch on in an emergency, and tell you all the secrets you need to know, well, that’s broken.’
James stared at them. Gwen swallowed when she saw his eyes. One brown, one blue.
‘You make me sound like a machine,’ said James.
‘You are, kinda,’ said Jack.
‘He’s not,’ said Gwen emphatically.
‘OK, he’s flesh and blood. That’s a real human body you’ve got there, James. Accept no imitations. I meant machine as in something that was built.’
James shook his head. He looked desperately at Gwen. She couldn’t meet his eyes.
‘Let’s sit,’ said Jack.
James sat down slowly. They took chairs on the other side of the table.
Jack cleared his throat. ‘This is how I understand it. I had it explained to me very patiently, and I still have trouble getting my head around it. Here goes...’
He looked at Gwen and then at James. ‘Cardiff isn’t the only place that rubs against the Rift. There are other places out there, other places, other worlds. We all share a common border. In one of those places, they’ve known about this Border for ever. The people there understand the Border as a fact of life. They see it as their duty to watch it, to police it, to patrol the things and people that go back and forth.’
‘The way Torchwood does,’ said James.
‘On a much bigger scale,’ said Jack. ‘The guy in charge, he’s a Border Prince. It’s his du
ty and his calling, and they live long lives and take their duties very seriously. They hand the responsibility down, father to son. The sons – and daughters too, I guess – the heirs anyway, they grow up learning the skills they need to take on the duty when their turns come. It’s a long, formal training, an apprenticeship. As part of it, they’re sent out, from time to time, to live in other places and immerse themselves in the other places that share the common border.’
‘Like a cultural exchange?’ scoffed James.
‘I’m not joking,’ said Jack. ‘They are given a form that perfectly matches the locals, and they’re given the ability – the innate ability – to blend in seamlessly. While they’re abroad, they don’t know what they are. I guess that’s so they don’t give anything away. Only when they’re called home, do they remember who they really are.’
James shook his head. ‘You really fell for this, Jack? I thought you were the sceptical type. This is just nonsense.’
‘I don’t...’ Gwen began. ‘I don’t think it is. It makes me want to throw up to think about it, but it’s real.’
James looked at her. He looked frightened.
‘What are you saying? Jack, what are you telling me? You think that’s what I am? Are you telling me you think that’s what I am? One of these things? Come on!’
‘You’re a real person,’ replied Jack, ‘a real human being, right down to every last atom of you. Perfect in every detail. There’d be no point in the exercise if you weren’t.’
‘No,’ murmured James.
‘But James Mayer is just an identity, built for you to wear.’
‘Shut up!’ said James.
‘There is no real James Mayer.’
‘Shut up!’
‘You know how hard this is for us?’ Jack snapped. ‘We know you! You’re part of us! Right in the heart of everything we are! You’re the best friend we never actually had, and it’s going to kill us to lose you!’
James swallowed. ‘Lose me? What do you mean?’
‘You have to go home, James. You have to go be yourself again.’
‘This is just a pack of lies,’ James exploded. He got up, shoving his chair back. ‘You’ve been duped!’
‘Yeah, we have,’ said Jack. ‘You too. Sit down.’
James glowered at them for a second. Slowly, he returned to his seat.