Torchwood Three; Cardiff, Wales
Sunday, February 3, 2019
Jack Harkness stood outside the fake tourist office leaning on the icy railing overlooking the water. A part of him hoped it was a nightmare. That he would wake up in the flat he shared with Sioned and she would be there alive and well. Romanticizing a war zone was the grief.
"Remember the good times," Sioned said more than once. "And find someone who makes you happy. I want you to live when I'm gone."
Easier said than done, Jack thought.
The door opened behind him and light footsteps followed. He turned and watched Kylia, a twenty-something woman with a mocha complexion and light green eyes, walked toward him. She looked familiar. And seemed to avoid him. After two days, she suspected it had to do with Ianto, but had no idea why.
"Morning."
"Is there something inspiring about freezing your arse?" Kyla asked not expecting an answer. "We have a monk. Are you up for it? Ianto's dealing with London and Geraint's at the morgue."
Jack turned. "Monk?"
Kylia nodded, acknowledging he had no idea what she was talking about. "Rasputin is the most common name for a street drug made from a Russian plant found originally in Siberia. Typically, it has a lot in common with marijuana. Except users can see exotic energy. We often find them standing around eating junk food and staring at the Rift." Pause. "It's semi-legal because New Age groups throughout Europe use it to commune with the universe as part of their religious practices. It supposedly grants psychic powers. Lots of lawsuits. The few people who have bad reactions go postal. Or monk."
No matter how much Jack wanted another bottle of whiskey, he couldn't neglect his duties. Torchwood agents died. Time changed. It wasn't the first time and wouldn't be the last. Life went on. Or rather new crises developed.
"Lead the way." He motioned toward the door. "What's the situation?"
Kylia led back inside. The hallway from the tourist office led to the garage. She waited until they were part way there before continuing.
"He monked at a history museum an hour-and-a-half into a free day. It's filled with families and seniors with retirement center groups."
Not good. "Is he contained?"
"Partly. He's in an exhibit room secured by fire doors. But forcing the doors affected the entire system. There are a hundred people or more trapped in the building. Including young children and fragile seniors."
They had several tech options to get through the doors, depending on different possibilities, Jack concluded. "Are armed police en route?"
"Already there." Kylia gave it a moment. "One reason the Rasputin name sticks is that monks are hard to kill. We have to stun then, toss them in a containment unit, and leave them for Geraint to detox. If he can't, and most are resistant, they're transferred to London. Owen has a dozen in cryostasis." Her tone saddened. "Most fry their units unconsciously trying to escape. It's fatal."
"Fry them how?"
She held up her hands. "Tosh hasn't figured it out."
Ianto Jones stood gripping his hands too tightly in front of him. The conference room monitor allowed for video conferences. Talking to Institute management was always stressful and better if they didn't see his arm misbehaving. It led to questions he didn't want to answer.
"Why weren't we notified of another hybrid?" Delissa Wright demanded.
"We receive at least one erroneous report a week. Geraint went to the morgue to make a determination."
Wright looked unconvinced. "He refuses all requests for information and encrypts his files."
Ianto doubted she realized she admitted to trying to steal their files. They had so many problems with data interception attempts in the field, their technology had been modified for encryptions based on Welsh and Czech. The first time London got one of their Welsh files, they demanded Owen identify the language. The most complex law enforcement agency on the planet couldn't figure out the Cardiff Torchwood office used Welsh. Then they asked why.
"Geraint is still waiting for the complete investigation file on his wife's disappearance."
She glared. "The rest is classified."
"Based on the information provided to Jack, there is no reason to classify it." The primary reason Jack didn't believe the official reports. The Institute expected him to accept their explanation for Gwen's death and Jolana's disappearance and barred access to the quarantined excavation. They reluctantly allowed him to view Gwen's body. He refused to leave until they allowed access.
"Withholding information pertaining to active investigations is unacceptable."
"Jack determines what information is necessary to send using the same criteria London used for Ms. Cooper and Dr. Jolana Hughes."
"Where is Captain Harkness?"
"Dealing with a monk." That was another problem. Owen and Tosh had months of research. According to London they had no theories on the origin of Rasputin, beyond the plant, or what caused monks. Except the Institute would have replaced them after days or weeks if that were true. Having worked with both of them, Ianto knew they had theories. London wasn't sharing.
Amgueddfa Hanes Cymru
Jack Harkness stood back in the security control room watching Kylia quickly modify technology to force control of the fire doors. She had significant experience with advanced technology. On the drive over she claimed to have no specialty skills. He knew she wasn't telling him something.
"The good news is the monk can't get to the civilians or emergency responders." Kylia motioned at a blank screen. "Bad news is we're blind. He monked the security system."
If Jack understood, he somehow short circuited the fire doors. "Is that unusual?"
"Yes and no. It suggests he developed the psychic defenses while conscious." She turned and looked at him. "He's all yours." She smiled. "The last one that did this could fly using a type of energy based levitation."
That explained why she asked for his help. He couldn't be permanently injured or killed. "Do we have a net?"
Kylia chuckled as she moved for an equipment case she insisted on carrying herself. "Geraint built one strong enough to bring down a jetpack."
Jack suspected there was a story behind that. "But?"
"If he's got any of his mind left, he'll throw it back at you."
Ten minutes later, Jack found himself outside the last barrier between him and the offender. He remotely modified a hack to operate the disabled door. He wanted to see the situation before deciding how to handle it. After several tries, the lock released and he pushed it open.
Energy shimmered through the room like a mirage. A man perched on top of a display with a radiating rose-colored aura. His eyes were wild, but aware. He reminded Jack of pictures of self-proclaimed spiritual leaders and didn't fit with the information.
Jack used his wrist-strap to scan. The man somehow infused the room with Rift energy.
He stepped back, allowing the door to close. Then tapped his ear com. "Kylia."
"Problem?"
Jack explained what he saw.
She groaned. "I've read stories online. Religious claims of stable monks." From her tone, she hadn't taken them seriously.
Jack reviewed the scan readings again. "Ask security for CCTV footage. There is no damage in the room. What concerned them?"
While he waited, he wondered what caused the man to develop an ability to manipulate Rift energy. It wasn't a random plant. Either the drug was contaminated or the effect triggered something unrelated. Being able to view the Rift sounded like a genetic adaption somehow to continual exposure. He needed to know if anyone who wasn't born or raised in the area had had the experience.
"He was levitating," Kylia said over the ear com.
"Did he attempt to harm anyone?"
"No. And he had the opportunity."
Jack opened the door and scanned again. Details varied some. The readings were consistent with chaotic energy. The man hadn't moved from his perch.
"Good morning." The man tilted his head like a dog listening to a distant sound. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness of Torchwood." He waited a moment. "You're scaring people." Confusion passed over the man's face. "The museum had to be evacuated." The man slid off the display case and stood in mid air. Then he slowly lowered to the floor. "Can you release the energy?"
His aura extended briefly as he walked; then condensed to barely visible. The mirage disappeared. And the man blinked out. A reddish afterimage lingered and faded.
"The monk disappeared."
"How?"
Jack consulted his wrist-strap. The energy was completely gone with no indication it ever existed. Whatever was happening, it wasn't a drug. He scanned again checking for chronons specifically and found nothing. He needed equipment he wasn't confident the hub had.
Torchwood Three
Ianto Jones sat at Jack's desk writing notes. He needed to speak with the Institute when he got back. That required knowing what was going on. It wouldn't take much to sell emotional and stressed. The problem was perception differences. Jack was less self-absorbed. A few people in Institute management had known Jack since before the Institute was rebuilt. They would notice a major change.
The main door opened minutes before Geraint entered the office. The doctor looked agitated suggesting another false report.
"What happened?"
Geraint groaned, "Someone changed the criteria again. Third time this year."
There had been too many to be a random glitch. "London asked for details. Do you have scan data to send?"
"I have a copy of the autopsy file including photographs."
"Send it to Delissa Wright," Ianto said. That should keep her from asking for confirmation again.
Geraint turned to leave and stopped as if realizing something. "How did London find out?"
"I don't know."
"The false reports all died from cancer or complications from failed immune systems. Not all were from Cardiff. Some were transferred from other cities and rural areas." Geraint obviously suspected something. "It's a lot of effort for a prank. Notifying London…"
"Anything suspicious?"
"Not so far."
One thing Ianto learned working for Torchwood was intuition went a lot farther than conventional investigative techniques. "Consult with Owen." He was less specialized and would have a better idea of mundane medical statistics.
Ianto felt uneasy as Geraint left. Cardiff had the highest concentration of monks and hybrids. When Kylia arrived, he tried not to think about the odds. She represented the life he lost when the Cyberman attacked the original Torchwood Institute. With the increased Rift instability and Jack's change, Ianto had to consider the implications.
The prosthesis hummed. He absently patted it. One more seemingly unrelated mystery. No one knew where it came from or how it attached itself. Somehow it went through the medical facility, and paranoid security, unnoticed and attached itself. Jack, the original Jack, wondered if it was some type of surveillance or infiltration device. Nothing supported either theory. Ianto wished it could talk.