‘And why did it stop?’ Jack added. ‘I mean, it had us, and then-’
‘I’ve had the Hub systems scanning for it,’ Ianto said. ‘Nothing, not a trace. It’s gone. Maybe it went back where it came from?’
‘Doesn’t seem likely,’ said James. ‘Jack’s right, it had us, it really did. It was winning.’
Jack looked at Owen and Ianto. ‘You two were here. Either of you remember anything?’
They shook their heads.
‘Hub monitors? Security?’
‘I’ve been through the logs and the playback. There’s nothing useful,’ said Ianto. ‘Though it’s fair to say the records are incomplete. There’s a whole chunk of the day’s Hub-monitor log that’s effectively blank, like it was jammed or erased.’
‘Anything else?’
‘There are signs that the Hub was violated,’ said Ianto. ‘Certain entry traces and system intrusions. But I don’t think they’re anything. I think they’re all part of the damage the Amok caused. It got into everything.’
‘Unless,’ said Owen. ‘Unless someone or something came in here and removed the Amok.’
‘Like who?’ asked James.
Owen shrugged. ‘I dunno. Given our security, I guess that’s too scary to contemplate.’
‘I want us back to alpha scoping for the next week or so,’ Jack announced. ‘Extreme vigilance, twenty-four seven. If the Amok’s still out there, I want to know about it. Any hint of it, any hint.’
Toshiko and Ianto nodded.
‘So, are you going to tell us what happened to you?’ Owen asked Jack.
‘A little Rift-slip,’ Jack replied. ‘Something on the books I’d been looking out for. The Torchwood Archives have notes regarding St Mary-in-the-Dust. A phantom repeat-incursion. A temporal eddy trapping a little parcel of place and time like a fly in amber, and returning it to our reality on a fairly regular basis. I’d been keen to take a look around, next time it showed up.’
‘What was it like?’ asked Ianto.
‘An old chapel,’ said Jack. ‘Thing is, there was a reason it kept coming back. There was something in there, probably the extra-dimensional presence that had edited the chapel out of our time in the first place. And it was hungry. Hungry for energy. It came back here to feed.’
‘What…’ Gwen began. ‘What did you see?’
‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ Toshiko said.
‘Me neither. Ever,’ said Jack. ‘I’m with Tosh on that. We saw something, something I quite cheerfully shot at. Let’s leave it at that. Gwen got us out before it fed on us. We’re alive. That’s all that matters.’
Silence.
‘So, are we done?’ asked Owen.
‘There’s one last thing,’ said Jack. He took the small, black tile out of his pocket and put it down on the table-top where they could all see it.
‘What’s that?’ asked Owen. ‘Also, why’s it flashing?’
‘This,’ said Jack, ‘is one of my secrets. After what’s happened today, I want to share that secret with you. I believe it’s only fair.’
‘Need to know?’ Gwen asked.
Jack nodded. ‘Exactly that. Today has shown me I’m not omniscient.’
‘I could have told you that,’ muttered Owen. ‘And if I’d had to, that would have proved the point, kind of, wouldn’t it?’
Jack refused to be baited. ‘I know stuff, sometimes, and I keep it from you guys. It occurs to me I’d damn well better share, because there may come a time when one of you knows better than me. That time comes, like it nearly came today, you’d better be ready and know everything. Be ready to act, in case I can’t.’
‘So what is it?’ asked James.
‘Well,’ said Jack. ‘This is… frankly, I don’t know what it is. I understand it to be an early warning, an alarm.’
‘Where did it come from?’ asked Toshiko, between shivers.
‘No idea,’ said Jack. ‘It’s been in the Institute’s keeping since Victoria founded Torchwood. The notes say it pre-dates that foundation. This… thing has been handed down for eight or nine generations by families and antiquarians in the Cardiff area. It was entrusted to Torchwood for safekeeping in 1899 by a Colonel Cosley, a local landowner.’
‘As in Cosley Hall?’ asked James.
‘Yeah, that’s the one,’ said Jack. ‘Story goes it was given to mankind to bear warning of a terrible threat. A war, perhaps. It would sound the alarm if that threat ever came close.’
‘Pardon me,’ said James. ‘“Given to mankind”? Doesn’t that rather suggest…?’
‘Oh, yeah,’ said Jack softly. ‘It really does.’
‘Why are you sharing this with us now?’ asked Gwen.
‘Because for the 108 years it’s been in Torchwood’s possession, and for all the time it’s been in human hands prior to that, it’s been inert. For the last six weeks, it’s been flashing like that.’
‘Meaning?’ asked Owen.
Jack shrugged. ‘Meaning something’s coming. Or something’s already here.’
SIXTEEN
Jack watched the sun rise from the roof of the St David’s Hotel. Wednesday. Let it be a quiet day. A business-as-usual day, where everything turned out to be a false alarm. They deserved that.
The Cardiff skyline gleamed and shone in the first rake of daylight, like some heavenly city, like one of Blake’s visions of Jerusalem. A beautiful city. A beautiful day. Let it be a beautiful day.
‘This is nice.’
‘I thought so,’ said Jack.
‘Very nice. A very nice start to the day.’ Toshiko smiled at him. ‘Can we do this every day?’
‘Probably not. I thought I’d save it up for mornings where I had to check up on my friends.’
Sunlight streamed in through the café’s wall of glass. Coffee and brioche had been delivered to their table.
‘So, getting that part out of the way, are you OK?’ asked Jack.
Toshiko nodded. ‘Amazingly. I didn’t think I would be. I was a wreck last night, exhausted and everything. I really didn’t think I’d be right for days or weeks.’
‘But you’re OK?’
‘Well, you being nice to me like this helps, but yes. Really. Clear-headed. Calm. I slept well. I don’t think we realised how much that thing was in our heads until it went away.’
Jack asked a passing waitress for some water.
‘How about you?’ asked Toshiko.
‘Famously robust,’ Jack replied. ‘Full of rude health.’
Toshiko buttered a slice of brioche. ‘Do me a favour?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Don’t start apologising. It’s not like you and it freaks me out. What happened yesterday happened. I’m fine. Just get to being flippant and cocksure and slightly devil-may-care. OK?’
‘Sure. OK.’
‘That’s the Jack I know.’
‘OK. This breakfast is on you, by the way.’
She grinned. ‘Better. You’re getting it.’
‘There was this thing I was going to ask you, though,’ said Jack. ‘Just one thing and then I dump the sentiment completely, I promise.’
‘Go on?’
‘How long do you think I can keep people for?’
‘Keep people?’
‘In Torchwood. All sorts of things might whittle down the ranks, but I never considered attrition.’
‘That you’d wear us out?’
Jack steepled his fingers in front of his face. ‘That the work would wear us out. All of us, Tosh. Time was, not long ago, we’d handle a case every week, or every two, not counting false alarms. Then it was two or three a week. Now look at us. Look at this week alone. I’m trying to keep the team on track, and I’m thinking, “Wow, we’re understaffed.” I’m also thinking, “For God’s sake, we’re going to burn out.” It’s twenty-four seven, and it seems to be getting worse, not better.’