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Rhys laughed. 'It's OK,' he said. 'I've been thinking about it, and you're right. I mean… If they'd buy it…'

Gwen laughed too. 'So…' she said. 'The spag bol?'

'I'll put it on now,' he said. 'Anyway… Spag bol always tastes better if you leave it for a bit.'

Gwen held Rhys's hand and squeezed it gently.

'I love you,' she said.

'I love you, too,' said Rhys.

The SUV drove out along the waterfront, past the old Norwegian church and the cluster of modern buildings. It pulled up in front of a row of enormous apartment buildings, each one with a balcony overlooking Cardiff Bay. Some of the lights inside the apartments were still on, some were lit up a flickering blue by unseen television screens.

Jack Harkness stepped out of the vehicle and opened the back doors. Inside, resting on the back seat, was the Orb. He lifted it out, groaning with the weight, and kicked the SUV's door shut before carrying the Orb to the water's edge.

Forty years ago, there had been no apartment buildings here. Forty years ago, this place had been home to a row of warehouses, the largest of which, Hamilton's Sugar, had stood right on the edge of the dock. The warehouses were gone now; even those which had survived that night had been bulldozed and replaced by apartment buildings and hotels.

Jack gazed down at the black surface of the sea. He felt an affinity with the ocean, as if it were a kindred spirit. The knowledge that every drop of water had always been a drop of water, practically since the stars were formed. Water was infinite and immortal. He lifted the Orb to his chest, and looked at it one last time — the unfathomable engravings on its surface, etched billions of years ago by unknown hands with unknown tools. It could have been a thing of beauty, in another life, perhaps, an object to sit behind glass in a museum. But not now.

Jack hurled the Orb into the sea and it hit the water with an enormous splash, sinking quickly out of sight. It was against the rules, of course. The Orb should have been returned to Basement D-4, another half-forgotten relic in the Torchwood Archive, but Jack didn't care. It was history, and he was thinking of the future. And the past and the future were different worlds.

Most of the time.