Original
Airdate: 6 Jul, 2009
Written
by Russell T Davies
In 1965, Scotland, a group
of young children are being ferried to a location in the middle of nowhere,
late at night. When the children file from the bus they are lead towards a
bright light. One child hangs back and looks up at the tall adult in the
military coat.
In present day Cardiff,
Gwen is taking money from the hole in the wall. A commotion causes her to look
over. A parent is shouting at their child, who is standing stock still. Another
child is doing the same elsewhere. It’s odd, but it’s a school day. Gwen heads
to work.
In the Davies’ household,
two primary school children sit motionless at the table while their mother with
her back turned, informs the eldest child what will happen if he receives any
further aggro in school.
In the Frobisher household,
unaware of his daughters sitting motionless at the breakfast table, John, the
father, continues readying himself for work.
‘I've booked the car for seven thirty, but I
might have to leave it on standby. If Baxter starts talking, he never stops, so
I can't guarantee what time. I'll tell you what, I'll send you a text when I'm
on the motorway.’ He tells his wife.
In Alice Carter’s home, the
front door is open and Steven is standing stock still, staring.
‘Steven, if you leave the front door open,
those cats are going to get in. Darling, don’t just stand there, you’re going
to be late. Steven. Steven?’ She enquires, concerned.
Rhys Williams is unable to
advance along the road as the children on the crossing have stopped walking
mid-way across.
‘Stop playing games. Get out of the way. Oi,
I said bloody shift, man.’
Rhiannon Davies attempts
to engage in conversation with her ‘quiet’ children. As if under some kind of
spell, all the children across Wales, wake up.
Steven looks at his
mother. ‘See you then.’
In England, Anna Frobisher
alerts her two daughters that they’re going to be late for school.
Making her way to the
Tourist shop on the Quay otherwise known as the entrance into the Hub, Gwen is
distracted by Glyn, the Water Taxi man, staring out towards the horizon.
‘Alright Glyn, what’s occurring?’
‘I’ve been watching the bay. No Sea
Monsters.’
‘Ah, still early.’ She replies.
The Hub is quiet when Gwen
enters.
‘Anyone in? You two having shenanigans in
the dark? Jack?’ She switches on the lights and greets a photograph of Toshiko
and Owen at her work station.
‘Morning.’
Taking to the computer,
Gwen types in ‘Children’ into the search engine.
Across town and far from
any shenanigans, Jack and Ianto are visiting a hospital where a patient has
just died. The patient, Mr Williams, is not of interest to them, but the
contents of the body is. Rupesh Patanjali, the young doctor has called time on Mr
Williams and breaks the news to Jack and Ianto of his passing.
‘I’m sorry. We did everything we could, but
he didn’t make it.’
‘Oh that’s a shame.’ Jack expresses his
deepest sympathy.
‘Very sad.’ Ianto replies.
‘Poor Mr Williams.’
‘It’s very sad indeed.’
‘There’ll have to be an autopsy, but I’d say
his heart gave out.’ Patanjali tells them.
‘Poor old heart.’ Ianto says, sadly.
‘You were neighbours, is that right?’
‘We live next door.’ Jack replies.
‘He’s got no family to speak of. All on his
own. We’d just keep an eye on him you know.’
‘Well I’m sure he appreciated it. If only
there were more like you two in the world.’
‘I know it’s an imposition,’ says Jack. ‘but
with us being such good neighbours; can we see the body?’
Mr Williams lies peacefully in a side room.
Jack after a few moments asks Patanjali if they can be left alone with the
body. Of course, Rupesh allows this and leaves them alone, expecting a few sad
farewells, not returning a few moments later and seeing the American with a
pair of tongs holding out a large heart size black mass removed from Williams’
body.
‘There. Now, look at it. That’s not human,
is it? Does that look human, no it does not. It’s just a hitchhiker he picked
up. It didn’t kill him.’
‘Some say they’re positively beneficial.
They release endorphins into the bloodstream. He died a happy man. And I’ve got
Tupperware.’ Replies Ianto, holding open the plastic box for the ‘hitchhiker’.
‘And we’re very considerate, we don’t leave
any mess.’ Jack replies, sealing up the wound with the laser saw, leaving no
scarring. ‘Thank you very much. We’ll just get out of your way.’ Jack says, striding
away from the ward with Ianto.
‘Wait a minute! Wait a minute!’ Rupesh
hurries after them to the car park. ‘Whatever it was, that was mutilation. I
should report you.’
‘Then why don’t you?’ Jack calls back.
‘But that thing. What the hell was it, that
hitchhiker?’ Rupesh asks.
‘Try putting it into a report.’ Jack replies
from the car.
‘You’re TORCHWOOD.’
‘Never heard of them.’ Jack replies.
‘There are bodies going missing.’ Rupesh
calls as Ianto prepares to drive away.
‘How many?’ Jack asks, tempted.
‘This whole city talks about you.’
‘What bodies? Where?’ Jack presses.
‘It started two months ago. Bodies, taken
down to the mortuary, then the records just stop. Five of them. Five in two
months. And none of them white. One of West Indian decent, one African, three
Chinese. All male.’
‘What was your name again?’ Jack enquires.
‘Rupesh. Rupesh Patanjali.’
Jack turns to Ianto. ‘What do you think?’
‘NHS.’
‘Yeah. Too much red tape. Sorry. But good luck
with it.’ He offers as he winds up his window.
‘Don’t. Look, wait a minute.’ Rupesh calls
after them as they drive away.
In Westminster, London,
John Frobisher enters the main office, where he finds a man in uniform waiting
for him. It fills him with dread.
‘Oh Christ.’
Bridget Spears, his secretary introduces
Colonel Oduya to him, and reminds him that he has a Category Meeting at quarter
past. Frobisher thanks her and invites Oduya into his office.
Lois Habiba arrives for
her first day at work. A young girl, she is escorted to her desk by Bridget.
If Colonel Oduya, from
UNIT is in Westminster, then clearly there’s something to worry about.
‘Just tell me it’s something small. Tell me
it’s a…it’s a meteorite, or a shadow on the moon. Just for once, tell me it’s
easy.’ Frobisher begs.
‘Might be nothing, sir. But it’s my job to
inform the Government, even if it turns out to be a false alarm.’ Oduya assures
him.
‘Then what is it?’ John Frobisher asks.
‘Children, sir. It’s the children.’
It’s all fun and games in
the Hub as Jack and Ianto return from the hospital with their hitchhiker.
‘You are going to get us killed.’ Ianto
admits.
‘No, you’d get killed, not me. You’d die
like a dog. Like an ugly dog.’
‘Oi, Chuckle Brothers, I found something.’
Gwen calls over, grabbing their attention.
‘Yeah? Well, I want you to do a check on St
Helen’s Hospital, specifically the morgue.’ Jack replies.
‘There’s a computer, do it yourself.
Meanwhile, I’ve been getting reports this morning of seventeen traffic
accidents happening right across the country, all the way from Glasgow to St
Ives.’ Gwen tells them.
‘Is that above average?’
‘Well, they all occurred between eight forty
and eight forty-one. Seventeen road traffic accidents happening in exactly the
same minute, and every single one of them involving children.’
‘That’ll be the school run.’ Ianto added.
‘All of them were just standing in the road.
Not crossing the road, just standing. I saw it myself, Jack. Two kids on Market
Street. Well, they just stopped.’ She tells them.
In Westminster Oduya
explained the same occurrences to Frobisher.
‘But the accidents are just one part of a
picture. Because every other child stopped at the same time, and not just in
Britain.’
In the Hub, Ianto brought
up more statistics from across Europe.
‘All timed around nine forty. They’re an
hour ahead, so it was simultaneous.’
‘All involving children?’ Gwen asks.
Ianto nods. ‘Hold on, still
cross-referencing. Here we go. Reports coming in. RTA’s in Norway, Sweden,
Denmark, Luxembourg.’
‘Germany, India, Egypt, Guyana…’ Oduya
lists.
‘Spain, Portugal, Bosnia, Tokyo.’ Ianto
continues.
‘Singapore. At eight-forty GMT, most of
America was asleep, but even there, we’re beginning to get reports. I think we
can assume it’s all of them, sir. As far as we can tell, at eight forty this
morning, every single child in the world, stopped.’ Oduya relays to Frobisher.
In the Hub, Gwen wonders if Jack had seen anything like this before in his travels. He hadn’t, or at
least not with kids.
In Westminster, Frobisher
is informed that the United Nations has taken UNIT up to Yellow Alert, in case
the cause is extra-terrestrial in origin. It shocks Frobisher, but when new
girl Lois enters with coffee, he quickly changes tact, and enquires after
Colonel Mace.
Taking every opportunity,
Lois introduces herself, explaining that she’s only just started in her new
job. Frobisher thanks her for the coffee. She leaves.
In the outer office, Lois
soon learns that you never question who the suits and military uniforms are,
it’s business as usual, and ‘if you could start transferring the names and
addresses.’
Colonel Oduya asks after
Frobisher’s family. Frobisher confirms he has two daughters and considers
taking them out of school.
‘I’d be careful, sir. I wouldn’t do anything
to draw any attention.’ Oduya insists. ‘Right now, this thing’s random enough
to go unnoticed, and if anyone files a news report, we’ll be crushing it. But,
so far, we’re the only ones with the software clever enough to piece this all
together. Well, us and Torchwood.’
‘Do you want me to talk to them? They're a
pain in the backside, but they can be helpful.’ Frobisher asks.
‘We're on to them right now.’
‘Ok, you find out anything, let me know
immediately.’ Jack angrily puts the phone down.
‘Of all the times for Martha Jones to go on holiday. I get Sergeant
Grunt. I’m talking to a Sergeant.’ He growls.
‘Don’t you dare phone her.’ Gwen says to
Jack. ‘She’s on her honeymoon. What did they say?’
‘UNIT base in Washington is running some
tests on a couple of kids. Brain scans, blood sugar, checking for radiation.
Nothing.’
Ianto views the CCTV.
‘You’re right, he’s back.’ Jack grins and
bounds over to the monitor.
‘Ha ha! I said so.’ He laughs.
‘Who’s back?’ Gwen asks curiously.
Sure enough, as predicted,
Rupesh Patanjali lingers around the Roald Dahl Plass. It’s been twenty minutes
now.
‘Persistent.’
‘Good sign.’
‘Dogmatic’ Jack adds.
‘Always a plus.’
‘Oh Christ, never work with a couple. You
two talk like twins. Now tell me who he is.’ She says, peering at the screen at
the good looking Asian.
‘Rupesh Patanjali.’ Ianto introduces him.
‘He saw the hitchhiker. He’s the ‘bodies going missing’ man.’
‘Doctor Patanjali. We need a doctor.’ Jack
explains.
‘What, and you just let him follow you?’
Gwen is shocked.
‘Ask about Torchwood and most people point
towards the Bay.’ Ianto tells her.
Suddenly it clicks to Gwen that this is
exactly how she was treated the first time she joined. ‘You bastards…. well sod
that, I’m recruiting myself to recruitment officer.’ She heads off to meet
Patanjali.
Watching her leave, Ianto smiles.
‘She’s calling us a couple now.’
‘What’s your problem?’ Jack snaps.
‘Just saying.’
‘I hate the word couple.’
‘Me too.’ Ianto replies, a little hurt.
Keen to find out more
about Doctor Patanjali, Gwen Cooper heads out to meet him in Roald Dahl Plass.
They took coffee outside a little coffee shop in the Bay, where she learnt a
little more about him and why he was keen for Torchwood to get involved in the
missing bodies.
Gwen pored over the file.
‘Three
of the bodies were Chinese. Were they related?’ She asks.
‘No. One was twenty-seven years old and the
other two were in their fifties, but not from the same family.’ Patanjali
explained.
‘Bit odd though, statistically, in a city
this small.’
‘That’s what I thought. Mind you, nothing
compared to that hitchhiker.’ He added.
‘Freak you out?’
Gwen explained about the
hitchhiker to the surprised young doctor. It had surprised her too when she’d
first learnt about alien creatures that can live and breed, breathe and survive
inside a human, all undetected.
‘Where are you from then?’
‘Me, I’m from Chesterfield. Came down here
eighteen months back.’
‘Enjoying it?’
‘Very much, yeah.’
‘I bet it doesn’t pay you much though.’ She
asks, knowing full well that Torchwood paid more than any other job she’d ever
worked at.
‘First pay cheque, I almost fell over.’ Gwen
told him. ‘Had to hide it from my boyfriend. I was buying clothes, had to stash
them under the bed.’ She told him.
‘What’s it like, inside Torchwood, I mean,
what do you do?’ Rupesh asked.
‘Why are you so interested?’
‘Well, from what I’ve heard, it just sounds,
I don’t know.’
‘Exciting?’
‘I suppose.’
‘Glamorous?’ she teases.
‘No, more, sort of…The thing is, we’ve all
seen it now; the past few years. Alien life. Even though half the world’s still
denying it. For me, ok; it’s the suicides. The past few years, suicide rates
have doubled, and that’s ever since the first alien. My first case. My first
death, was a suicide. Do you know why she did it? Because she’d written all
these letters. She’d been a Christian all her life, and then alien life
appears. She wrote this bit. She said, it’s like science has won.’
‘Lost her faith.’ Gwen concluded.
‘More than that.’ Rupesh tells her. ‘She said
she saw her place in the universe, and it was tiny. She died because she
thought she was nothing.’
Gwen could relate. She’d felt it then and
she still felt it now. The immensity of it all but yet the sheer brilliance and
beauty of it all too, and ‘completely bloody magic. It’s bigger, you know? It’s
like, it’s like the whole world is bigger. My life is bigger.’ Gwen confesses
to Rupesh.
Suddenly, she’s
distracted. She spots a woman trying to move her child, but the child is stock
still.
‘Shit.’
Realising it’s happening
again, Gwen calls Jack in the Hub to get himself up to the surface as she and
Rupesh run to the scene.
Meeting Gwen, Jack and
Ianto survey the scene. Only it’s not isolated to one spot. Right across the
country, the world, every child has stopped. The mother in Cardiff still can’t
break the spell. Suddenly, Sasha screams. It’s a high pitch scream. Alarmed,
the mother is helpless to help her. Rupesh spots another child and rushes over
to offer assistance, while Ianto begins filming what he sees for their records.
The screams stop. After a
beat…..
‘We. We. We. We. We. We. We. We.’
‘Whoa.’ Rupesh is alarmed.
‘We are. We are. We are. We are. We are
coming. We are coming.’
‘Oh my God.’ Gwen is taken aback. Jack and
Ianto are equally curious.
‘We are coming. We are coming. We are
coming.’
At the Home Office,
Frobisher puts down his phone and hastens from his office.
‘Who’s got children? Find me a kid. Find me
a bloody kid, now.’ He insists.
In the Duke of York
Hospital grounds, a middle aged man chants the same thing over and over again.
He’s filmed by one of the hospital staff.
‘He won’t stop. He keeps saying the same
thing over and over.’
‘We are coming. We are coming. We are
coming. We are coming. We are coming.’ Clem McDonald chants in a trance like
state.
At the Roald Dahl Plass
the children continue to chant, till a wave of normality reigns over them.
Looking at their respected parents it’s as if nothing has happened to them.
At the Duke of York
Hospital grounds, Clem falls to his knees. A nurse comes to his aid.
‘Are you alright?’
‘They’ve found me.’ He says, frightened.
Haring back to the Hub,
Jack barks his orders, stopping only as he realises Rupesh is with them.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’
‘I don’t know, I could help.’ Rupesh offers.
‘You’re bleeping.’ Gwen notices.
‘Shit, yeah. Sorry.’ End of the road for
doctor Patanjali.
‘The whole city’s coming to a standstill.
They’re going to need you in A&E.’
‘We’ll get back to you, I promise.’ Gwen
assures him.
‘What’s in there?’ Rupesh asks as Jack and
Ianto head inside.
‘Big science fiction super base.’ Gwen tells
him. ‘Honestly. See you.’
Back at the Home Office,
phone calls flood in. Bridget is advised to take no more calls for Frobisher.
Lois deals with the Press list. When the Home Secretary demands information,
Lois is left to set up an auto reply, which means she’ll have to access Bridget
Spears’ account.
‘Password Hastings, capital H, rest of it
lower case.’ Spears tells her.
Dekker enters the office
and demands to see John Frobisher. Despite his protestations of wishing to
speak to nobody else, Dekker is another kettle of fish altogether.
‘Four, five, six. I warned you.’
At the Hub, Jack Harkness
tries desperately to connect to Frobisher, except he’s stuck with the new girl.
He grows irritable.
‘Just tell him it’s Captain Jack Harkness,
he’ll take the call.’
‘I’m sorry, I can’t. If you could just leave
a number or…’
‘Tell him it’s Torchwood.’
‘Right, and how do you spell that?’
‘You’re working for the Home Office and
you’ve never heard of Torchwood?’ Jack snarls.
‘I’m new. Started today.’
‘Just what I need. Sorry. Not your fault.
You picked a hell of a day. Listen, just tell him Torchwood. W.O.O.D. We might
be able to help, ok? What was your name?’ He asks of her.
‘Lois. Lois Habiba.’
‘Good luck to you, Lois Habiba.’
After the call, Lois
enters Torchwood into the call log system. A red flag pops up. Classified
Security Level Two. Using Bridget’s password and username, she reads up on the
Torchwood Institute from its humble beginnings. While she reads a little bit of
history, Frobisher and Dekker leave the office.
In the Thames House
basement, MI5’s headquarters on Millbank, Dekker invites Frobisher into his
small office.
‘Been a while since we had visitors down
here. Thought you’d forgotten about us. It’s hardly the glamorous side of
Thames House, my little domain.’ He jokes, as he shows Frobisher the reason for
the visit. ‘We converted the readings onto digital years ago, but I kept the
original equipment. Call it nostalgia. Then this morning, it woke up. Eight
forty and again at ten thirty, transmitting on the 456.’ Dekker plays the
strange noise recording.
‘Just five seconds in duration, but that’s
enough.’ He tells him.
‘What’s it saying?’
‘Well, I think it’s a burst of compressed
information. I’m running it through the translators. It might take a while. But
the point is, the 456 was open.’
‘But why would they change?’ Frobisher asks,
curiously.
‘That’s your job to find out.’
Frobisher is aware that
the Prime Minister will need to know, but Dekker is only too aware of what
politics are like. One elected official after another. ‘The 456 was here before
him, it’ll be here long after he’s gone. And so will we. The civil service
John. The cockroaches of government.’
‘Have you got kids?’ Frobisher quips.
‘Too busy working. Turns out to be a
godsend.’
Back in Cardiff, and the
Hub, Jack and Ianto have a theory about the children.
‘So I think it’s a transmission, a pulse, a
broadcast.’
‘Like the Mosquito alarm, the one that only
kids can hear.’ Ianto adds.
‘Something unique to prepubescence.’ Jack
continues.
‘Maybe testosterone interferes with the
signal, and oestrogen…
‘Oh no no no. Hold on.’ Gwen interrupts,
staring at the computer screen. ‘We’re being dumbos. We’re missing the bleedin’
obvious. Here look. Recorded in Taiwan. The point being, anyone?’ She waits for
it to click as Jack and Ianto watch a girl on the monitor chant ‘We are coming’
over and over.
‘It’s English.’ They announce in unison.
‘Exactly. And all the footage is the same.
So every single child in the whole wide world is speaking English. So why’s
that?’
‘I guess if you scanned the Earth from the
outside, you’d register English as the dominant language.’ Jack replies.
‘Actually,’ Ianto corrects him. ‘That would
be Chinese. Well Mandarin. There’s about a billion people speaking Mandarin.
That’s three times more than English.’
‘Oh my God.’ Gwen exclaims.
‘What?’
‘Ok, ready? So every single child in the
world is talking in unison, yeah?’ She says, as if to check they’re still
awake.
‘Yeah.’
‘Every single child, and one man.’ She shows
them Clem McDonald, filmed earlier by a nurse, and uploaded to the internet,
chanting the same as the children, over and over.
‘What the hell? Who’s he?’
‘Name’s Timothy White. He’s a patient in a
psychiatric ward at the Duke of York Hospital, East Grinstead.’
‘How did you get this footage?’ Jack
enquires.
‘Staff emailed it to the Police. But every
police force is swamped with mums and dads going absolutely mental, so it’s
just waiting in line. I reckon no one else has noticed him yet.’
‘East Grindstead, that’s what…two hours?’
Ianto guesses.
‘I’m on it.’ Gwen replies.
In a quiet suburb, Rhys is
house hunting. He’s found an ideal house for sale. Unfortunately, Gwen can’t
make it, Rhys understands.
‘Oh, it’s alright, I thought you’d be busy.
‘We are coming.’ He smiles.
‘Eh, but what’s it like?’ She asks, changing
the subject.
‘The estate agent hasn’t turned up. Ah, fair
do’s though, she’s probably got kids. So, what do you think’s causing it?’ he
asks.
‘I can’t say. Top Secret.’
‘You haven’t got a clue have you?
‘No idea.’ She confesses, driving away from
Cardiff.
Rhys gives her the lowdown
on the property, the rooms, and how much he reckons he could knock off the
asking price. When he talks about a nursery room, Gwen changes the subject.
‘You can adopt a Filipino and get her to
clean the chimneys.’ She tells him.
Rhys thinks back to the
moment the children stopped. He had a theory. The times the children were most
visible was during school hours, going to school, and the school break times.
‘Specific British hours, yeah? It might be
worldwide, but I reckon someone’s looking right at us.’
‘That’s brilliant. That is brilliant. You’re
not bad, you, are you?’ Gwen marvelled, Rhys was the one person who could look
at the world with a less critical eye, but nail it perfectly.
‘I’m bloody superb.’ He laughed.
‘Oh, my God. Severn Bridge. I’m going into
England. Farewell forever.’
‘Good luck.’ Rhys called. ‘Have you got
currency?’
‘Yes, and I’ve had my injections. See you.’
Sitting on the steps of
the basin, Jack and Ianto observed the quiet Roald Dahl Plass. It was lunch
time, usually buzzing with school children.
‘Everyone’s taken them home.’
‘We need a child. Because we need to test
those frequencies. Find the right frequency, and we can find out who’s
transmitting.’
‘Where do you get a child though? I can find
you lasers and Weevils and hitchhikers, but kids?’
Jack suddenly knew exactly
where he’d find one. He got to his feet.
‘See you later?’
‘Where are you going?’ Ianto called after
him.
‘Now who’s a couple?’ Jack snapped.
In the Prime Minister’s
Office, Brian Green, the Prime Minister, reads through the file quietly while
Frobisher sits uncomfortably waiting. Big Ben chimes. It’s one o’clock.
‘When I was a kid,’ laments Green. ‘It was
the bomb. Iron Curtain. Reds under the bed. It was all so bloody simple. Now it
comes raining down from the skies, made of metal, stinking green and God knows
what. I find myself running a country under siege from above.’
‘What do you recommend that we do?’
Frobisher asks.
‘You tell me.’
‘Given that this is now worldwide, Prime
Minister, it might be best if certain historical events were taken off the
record.’
‘So Britain gets a clean sheet?’
‘Yes sir.’
‘How do we know if these, what do we call
them?’ The Prime Minister asks.
‘The 456. They never gave a name. We just
called them the 456 after the frequency allocation.’
‘Then how do we know that the 456 will keep
quiet?’
‘We don’t. All we can do is hope to cover
ourselves. You’ll have to issue a Blank Page.’
Green refuses. He doesn't want his name on any of it. He doesn't want any part of it. He doesn't want to
hear of it any more. It is something he hopes will go away.
It came as no surprise to
Alice Carter, that her father would arrive on the doorstep the instant that
something ‘unknown’ was going on. But as there was no way of turning him away
after Steven launches himself at his ‘Uncle’, she invites him in.
Rhiannon is surprised when
her brother Ianto arrives. It must be Christmas she tells him. He enquires
after his niece and nephew, and learns that they are home in case it’s a group
hysteria thing, that had caused a lot of girls to faint one time. He gives Mica
a fiver while she plays a video game, and gives David a tenner when he bounds
down the stairs after his mother’s hollering.
‘I was thinking, I missed Mica’s birthday. I
thought I could take her to McDonald’s or something.’ Ianto offers.
‘That’s all of £3.95, you big spender.’
‘Alright, cinema.’ He offers again.
Rhiannon likes the idea,
Mica nods from the game. Ianto offers to take her today, but after the scares
Rhiannon is less inclined.
‘No chance, what about Saturday?’
‘I’m kind of busy on Saturday.’ Ianto
confesses.
‘You’re a civil servant. They don’t work
weekends. They invented weekends. And I’m not having her going out. Not today,
not with all that voice thing. I want ‘em where I can see them.’ She replies,
defiantly.
‘She’ll be with me.’ Ianto offers again.e
Again his sister refuses.
He lets it drop.
‘Just an idea. I won’t bother you.’
‘Oh that’s it is it? You’re just going to go
now? Oh, sit down, you daft sod. I’ve got some spinach dip. And you and me,
well, we’ve got things to talk about.’
Ianto is curious. ‘What
things?’
‘You’ve been seen.’
In a bright, clean kitchen,
Jack and Alice sit down to coffee, while Steven plays out in the garden.
‘They said on the news that we should send
them back to school tomorrow. Do you think it’s safe?’
‘Well, I don’t know any more than you.’ Jack
confesses. Alice doesn’t believe him. ‘I don’t.’ He replies. Changing tact Jack
asks after her ex-husband Joe.
‘In Italy, with her.’ She says
bitterly. ‘They finally got married. But
he er…he phones every now and then, and sends Steven postcards, remembers his
birthday. There are worse fathers.’ She replies, having a dig at her old man.
‘How are you off for money?’ Jack asks.
‘Don’t worry about that, you give me enough.
Kind of easy writing cheques, huh?’
‘Alice, you’re the one who asked me to stay
away. I’d come round her every week, if you wanted me to. Every day.’
‘Yeah, I just can’t stand it, Dad. I look
older than you do and it’s never going to stop. I get older and older and you
stay the same. One day, you’re going to be standing at my funeral looking just
like you did when you were standing at Mum’s. No wonder she was so furious. You
make us feel old.’
Jack thought for a moment. ‘Actually, I found a grey hair.’ The tension
in the room was finally lifted, albeit for a short period of time.
Watching Steven play, Jack
pressed on. ‘You ever gonna tell him?’
‘What do I say, that you’re his
grandfather?’
‘He’s too young to notice right now that I
don’t age. But one day, he’s going to realise.’
‘And that’s another reason for you to stay
away.’ Alice replies.
‘I suppose. I could make the most of it
while he’s still young. Take him out, buy him stuff. Me and him, sort of
thing.’
‘You mean today?’ Alice grew suspicious.
‘While I’m here, may as well.’
‘Oh, you bastard.’ The penny finally drops.
‘Something happens to kids, and you want to spend time with him on the same
day. You are not experimenting on that boy, Dad. Not ever. That’s why I want
you to stay away. Because you’re dangerous.’
At the hospital, Patanjali
is paged by Captain Jack Harkness. He realises that there’s a children’s ward
at the hospital. He needs a child.
Over a spinach dip,
Rhiannon interrogates her brother about Jack. It comes as a surprise to her
that he’s gone ‘bender’ when she always thought he was only interested in
girls.
‘It’s weird.’ Ianto confesses. ‘It’s just
different. It’s not men, it’s just him. It’s only him. And I don’t even know
what it is, really, so…So I’m not broadcasting it.’ He says finally, aiming to
keep a lid on the whole thing.
Johnny arrives home and
greets Ianto in the usual bear hug fashion, with the casual brother in law
teasing.
‘Aye, aye, gay boy. She says you’re taking
it up the arse….’ A car alarm wails outside. ‘Eh, whose car is that outside, it
that you? Black thing?’
Ianto informs him that it
is, but that there’s nothing to worry about as it’s triple deadlocked. Sadly
for Ianto, the adult joy riders have found a way around it, and as they head
outside, for Johnny to lob a few bricks at their victory lap of honour, all
Ianto can think of is, how he’s going to explain this one to Jack.
‘That’s my car.’
Timothy White aka Clem
McDonald had been staying at the Duke of York hospital for three months. Prior
to this, the fifty two year old male had been in and out of care all his life.
He’d spent forty years in Leeds living homeless before he’d appeared on their
records. Clem had lived on the streets since the age of eleven. Although nobody
had ever reported him missing, when Clem had first arrived on their records, he
had a Scottish accent, long since gone.
The nurse led Gwen to a
meeting room, where Clem sat quietly. He was a scruffy looking man, wearing a
beard, and his eyes hid secrets, he might never tell a living soul.
A basic man with simple
words, Clem is aware that they’re being watched. Already aware that Gwen wanted
to speak with him, he sits opposite her, a table between them.
‘Can you remember the voice?’ Gwen asks
Clem. ‘You said, we are coming. Can you remember why?’ Clem is less than
chatty. ‘Do you know what I think it was? Aliens.’ She tells him. Clem doesn’t
believe her.
‘There’s no such thing.’
‘Those days are gone. I don't mean to scare
you because you're perfectly safe, but I think aliens are using you to speak.
What do you think?’
‘No
such thing. Isn't it, isn't it.’
Aware that hostilities are
preventing further questioning, Gwen tries another approach.
‘I’ve met aliens.’ She tells him. ‘It’s part
of my job. But I’m not the authorities or the police or the army, so anything
you say is just between me and you, and I will believe you.’ She smiles.
‘Give me your hand.’ Clem asks. Gwen unsure,
holds out her hand. Quick as lightning he grabs her hand and sniffs long and
hard at it, before sitting back down. He’s amazed.
‘You’re telling the truth.’
‘How can you tell?’
‘I can smell it. You’ve met them?’ He’s
interested.
‘Dozens of them.’ Gwen laughs.
‘Still not safe. Isn’t it, isn’t it?’ he
twitches to the side, as if he’s staring at someone, or something. Gwen is
curious. ‘They’re watching.’ He hints towards the CCTV camera on the wall. Gwen
knows exactly how to deal with that. He holds up a pen like device and insists
he keeps quiet. He asks what it is, Gwen politely switches off the CCTV camera
before telling him.
‘The technical name is a gizmo.’
Gwen knows he’s seen
something, she could bet her wages on that fact.
‘What’s your name? What’s your real name?
When did you last say your name?’
‘Never.’
‘Then tell me.’ She presses, gently. Clem
opens up about his childhood, about his past before the streets and living
homeless. He tells her of the children’s home, of the journey across the moors.
Of the lights in the sky, that took away his friends.
‘But not you?’ Gwen was curious.
‘I ran.’ He said. ‘There was something,
there was people, there was. Isn’t it, isn’t it, isn’t it, isn’t it?’
Placing a hand over his,
Gwen calmed the nervous man.
‘You’re alright, you’re safe now.’
‘But they’re coming back. I’ve been smelling
them for months. In the air. Long time coming.’
‘Tim, I can help. Look at me. I can help. If
kids went missing, something’s got to be written down and I will find it. But
to do that, I need to know your name.’
‘I was Clem. Clement McDonald.’
Gwen smiled and
acknowledged his real name. She quizzed him on his original place of origin,
the place he called home before he ran. With something to go on, she could
research when she returned to the Hub. But there was something else that she
would have to research when she returned, for Clem announced before the meeting
ended, that Gwen was three weeks pregnant!
Back at the Hub Gwen’s
mind was racing. She was pregnant!!! She called Ianto and asked him to look up
a Clement McDonald, who came from a place or a residential home called The
Holly Tree. To look up the words Holly Tree and Scotland and that it dated back
to the 1960’s. She also asked him to look up Timothy White, as in the shop.
Ianto agreed, but despite breaking the news to her that he’d lost the car, her
mind was anywhere but where it needed to be.
At Ashton Down monitoring
station, an operative had picked up a red flag on the Torchwood intercept.
‘The name Clement MacDonald. Can you trace
it?’
‘Roger, Ashton control. Initiating trace
now.’
In Frobisher’s office,
things take a step into the darker recesses. An execution order has been placed
on the people involved in the first 456 meeting back in 1965. Permanent
Secretary to the Home Office, John Frobisher issues Bridget Spears a file with
a blank page. Returning to her desk, Bridget works at her computer silently.
After she leaves, Lois logs into her account and brings up the last sent email.
It is an email addressed to (blank), subject Blank Page. Attachments – Order to kill, which
lists Colonel Michael Sanders (ret’d), Ellen Hunt, Captain Andrew Staines and
Captain Jack Harkness (active).
Jack pulls up outside the
hospital in a blue convertible. He meets with Rupesh and is led towards the
morgue, despite Jack expecting to visit a children’s ward.
Rupesh informs him that
there’s been another murder.
On the slab is a Mr Chow
Lee Jee, a Chinese gentleman. ‘He came in with a nosebleed that wouldn’t stop.
Next thing you know, it’s been diagnosed as a brain haemorrhage. He died at
16.25.’ Another member of hospital staff was waiting in the morgue, Patanjali
explained Jack’s attendance.
Jack studies the body,
noting that it hadn’t as yet gone missing. Rupesh is aware of this.
‘Need to run a toxicology scan, not on the
NHS, we’ve got much better equipment. Pupil’s blown. That corresponds with a
brain haemorrhage, though it could be induced artificially. No sign of trauma
to the skin, apart from bruising, but that’s…’ Jack is taken completely by
surprise, as the bullet fired by Patanjali’s pistol hits him in the back.
‘Get them in. Seal off the area.’ Patanjali
ordered of the man in the hospital uniform. Black Ops tape off the area.
At Ashton Down monitoring
station, Clement McDonald has been located. The name hasn’t been active for
more than forty years. Having discovered that Torchwood ran a check, they
have to isolate him.
Speaking from the Morgue,
Johnson, a highly trained Black Ops soldier, gives the order to bring him in.
While the inmates at the
hospital sat watching television for the evening, Clem smelt trouble in the
air.
Johnson inspects the dead
body of Captain Jack Harkness, now on the morgue table. Rupesh Patanjali feels betrayed. He’d followed orders that would enable him to access the Torchwood
Hub, but with the new plans, his research means nothing. Johnson however,
following her own set of orders, grows tired of the whinging by the young
‘doctor’.
‘Who killed the Chinese man?’ She asked.
‘I did. I had to. It was perfect timing. He
just fitted the story.’
‘Then get off your high horse, yeah? Any
sign yet?’ She asked of the health of the Captain. Rupesh wondered if the
stories were true regarding Jack’s Lazarus qualities. As if on cue, Jack gasps back into life, only to be shot again, this time by Johnson.
‘He was dead.’
‘Now he’s dead again. And we’ll keep killing
him till he’s ready. Get him prepared.’ She instructs an orderly.
Unbuttoning Jack’s shirt,
and lifting up his t-shirt, a laser saw exposes his stomach for the ultimate
torture of the man who can never die.
At the Duke of York
hospital, two Land Rovers arrive. Clem leaves the establishment undetected.
With the gruesome task
completed, Jack is sealed back up. Dressed again and laid back on the ground
where he was shot.
‘He’s going to wonder where I’ve gone. How
are we going to cover that?’ Rupesh asks. Johnson has already put a plan into
action. As Patanjali suddenly realises that he’s going nowhere, he makes a
break for freedom, hoping that the array of soldiers in the hallway will shield
any shot fired by Johnson. How wrong can he be?
‘SIDES!’ As the soldiers flatten themselves against either side of the corridor, Johnson takes clear aim and
fires.
When Captain Jack Harkness
awoke, the body of the young doctor lay next to him.
‘Oh no.’ Jack had to get out of there, as
quickly as possible. Black Ops monitoring his every move, reported back to
base.
In the Hub, Ianto had the
results Gwen had asked for.
‘There was a Holly Tree Lodge just outside
Arbroath. It’s a hotel now, but up until 1965, it was a state-run orphanage.
And they had a Clement McDonald. He was taken into care, April 1965, after his
mother died. No father on record. In November 1965, he was transferred along
with. Oh…
Jack arrived at the
Hub unaware of the situation about to unfold, but he knew someone had killed
him for a reason.
‘Five to control. Harkness now approaching
door one, over.’
‘He’s inside.’ Johnson, relayed to her team.
‘We don’t know how deep that place goes. Give it five. Over.’
Gwen scanned her palm, and
saw the pulsing pink dot on the opposite wall. She couldn’t quite believe it.
Ianto heard the alarms of the door and saw Jack in a state of unease.
‘We need damage control at St Helen’s. One
body, Doctor Rupesh Patanjali, shot in the back.’
‘What happened?’ Ianto asks.
‘I don’t know. He was just left there right
beside me, like someone’s gloating.’
‘Did they kill you?’
‘Yeah.’ Ianto embraced him suddenly. ‘Maybe
we’re being targeted. Whether it was him or me, we should be careful. Better
tell Gwen.’
‘She’s back, she’s in the lab.’ Ianto informs
him.
Jack hurries along,
calling after her.
‘Boy have I had a day.’ He says reaching the
autopsy room. His eyes fall on the image of a baby growing in Gwen’s uterus,
projected on the opposite wall. ‘Oh my
God, is that? How long?’ He asks coming down the steps to celebrate her news.
‘Three weeks.’ Gwen replies, barely able to
take her eyes from the screen.
‘That’s good isn’t it? From where I’m
standing it looks good to me.’ Jack replies.
‘Yeah. Bloody hell. It’s brilliant.’
‘Ianto we’re having a baby. Have you told
Rhys?’
‘I’ve only just found out myself.’ She tells
him.
‘Oh, you told me before you told him. He is
going to love that.’
‘Congratulations. Would now be a good time
to tell you I lost the car?’ Ianto adds, bracing himself.
‘You did what?’
‘That is so bloody spectacular. But what
about this place, and my job?’ Gwen tears herself away from the image and looks
at Jack.
‘We’ll manage.’ He assures her. He places
his hand upon hers as the machine scans him. Suddenly alarms go off.
‘What the hell is that?’ Gwen turns back to
the screen and sees Jack’s insides, where a foreign body lies in his stomach.
‘Oh my God. It’s a bomb.’
‘There’s a bomb in your stomach.’ Ianto has
his worst fears confirmed.
‘Get out, both of you.’ Jack instructs, but
neither want to leave him. Ianto begins damage limitation.
‘Blast radius, one mile.’
‘Right now, GET OUT.’ Jack insists of the
pair of them.
‘There must be something we can do.’ Gwen
sobs. ‘Look, we can stop it. We can fix this, ok? We can rip it out of you.’
Gwen suggests, desperately.
‘I’m telling you. Get out.’ Jack growls as
the timer counts down.
‘It’s active. Two minutes.’
‘Yeah well, I can’t just run, Jack.’ Gwen
announces.
‘You’re pregnant.’
Across the world, the
children begin to chant. ‘We are coming. We are coming.’
At the Frobisher home,
Anna calls her husband, but both are unable to stop their children.
Alice Carter insists her
son stop it, but still he chants, unaware of her voice as another takes
precedence.
Rhiannon’s children stand
and stare and chant along with the millions of children across the world.
‘We are coming. We are coming. We are
coming. We are coming.’
Jack pulls Ianto away from
the controls, insisting he leaves else he’ll be locked inside with him.
‘We can override the mechanism.’ Ianto tells
him, desperate to stay with Jack.
Aware what will happen,
Jack is desperate for Ianto to leave.
‘For GOD’S SAKE, GET OUT. There’ll be
nothing left of you. I can survive anything.’ He pleads. Gwen has already left,
Jack kisses Ianto goodbye before the slab lifts him out of the building, and
out of harm’s way.
‘I’ll come back. I always do.’ Jack
promises.
The children continue to
chant. It frightens the families who beg for their child to stop. In Cardiff,
the Torchwood Lockdown is complete. With three seconds left, Ianto is nearly at
the Plass. Jack braces himself for the horrifying moment.
The almighty explosion
rips through the Hub completely destroying it. The blast throws Gwen off her
feet and she’s temporarily deafened by it. Burning debris scatters everywhere
into the night sky.
The once proud base below the Plass, the once beautiful water tower, and the Plass itself has been
raised to the ground.
At the home of the
Frobisher’s the chanting reaches its climatic ending.
‘We are coming…BACK.’
End of Part One.
Day Two – March 1st.
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