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Chapter 4: "Of All The Friends I've Had... You're The First."
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The future was seriously messed up. The only way Ianto could cope with it was to try to remain detached and objective. All the new information he had read, and even what had happened the previous day... it was so much easier to think of it as something unreal.
A dream, a story... a game.
A very real game.
He had won, yesterday. Warren might have threatened him, but he hadn't actually been harmed, and that was what counted.
Max woke him early, the next morning, so that he could make it to the testing facility across town in time for his scheduled appointment. He just went along with it, still quite shocked from what had happened the previous day, but eager to see the world outside this basement that was beginning to feel increasingly like a prison to him.
Max had asked again, as they ate breakfast together, if he was okay. He said was fine. He got the feeling that Max knew this was a lie, but since no interrogation was forthcoming, it didn't much matter what Max thought.
He had been given new clothes. A rather plain shirt and pants... and actual shoes, which in itself was a vast improvement. In comparison to his previous options here, it felt so very formal. Almost like getting ready for a hearing or trial, for a crime he hadn't committed.
"It's time to go." Max called from the lab, "You'd better be-"
Ianto stepped out, fully dressed, and as neat and presentable as ever.
"Ready... yeah, okay you're ready. Let's go."
Ianto followed as he led the way out of the lab, "I'm good at timekeeping."
"That's always a plus, when the Agency's hiring." Max said, with a forced grin, "Thankfully not a requirement. I forget what day of the week it is, sometimes."
They reached the elevator, and Squire nodded to them as they passed, "Good luck today, son."
Ianto was just a bit too nervous to voice his answer, but still managed to nod in response, all the same.
As soon as the doors closed behind them, Max asked, "Hope you've thought of a new name by now. You'll need it for the test today."
"It's difficult to leave the past behind." Ianto said carefully, frowning. Yes, he had thought of a name, but that didn't make it any easier. "Even if I did die and get resurrected three millennia later."
"Yeah. Well, technically you're a new man, now." Max said with a shrug, "I'd not call it resurrection... more like scientifically assisted reincarnation. Some people still believe in that shit, y'know. One woman I worked with, on the archaeological team that was researching where we found your brain... swore blind she was once Cleopatra."
And thus they were both laughing when the doors slid silently open to reveal a large atrium that was at least two stories tall. It honestly wasn't that spectacular or new to Ianto, who had seen both bigger and better-looking in his own century. Still, it was definitely designed to be impressive.
"The Agency is entirely self-contained within this building. There's enough of us that we could form a fully functional community on our own." Max explained, gesturing vaguely upwards, "Living quarters are on the upper levels, but once you pass the test you're free to get your own place if you prefer. We've got offices, meeting rooms, training rooms, even entertainment and a restaurant. You name it, we probably have it."
"And of course, the top-secret research facility underground." Ianto joked darkly, "No evil organisation is truly whole without one."
"Exactly!" Max laughed.
They stepped outside into the bright sunlight, and onto what looked to Ianto like an eerily clean but otherwise surprisingly normal street.
A moment later he began to notice that the people weren't all human. The majority were... but the aliens really did stand out.
Nearest to them was a small group of blue-skinned humanoid women, with odd ridges on their heads instead of hair, and a strangely attractive air about them, chatting to each other in an entirely unfamiliar and rather musical language. At least, they sure looked female in those tight tops.
And you know you've spent too much time at Torchwood when you have to wonder about that, Ianto thought... but after once witnessing Janet trying to hump Owen, he had learned not to make assumptions.
Green was also a common skin-colour... and the more he thought about it, they all looked to be the same race. Reptilian, with very large eyes and sharp claws.
Max nudged him in the ribs, "It's rude to stare."
Ianto immediately turned to see that he was standing next to what looked like an old-fashioned black taxi... except it wasn't touching the ground. And it had no visible wheels.
Hover cars actually existed!
He hadn't expected that one, somehow. Perhaps because of the fact that he had lived through at least half a dozen dates in his own time, where various older movies had said such things should exist, but in reality they hadn't.
"For the Thessians, just thinking they're pretty is a come-on... nevermind saying hello." Max continued, as if the hover-taxi was not at all unusual, "And the Silurians tend to take offence if you gape at them. Especially the big... muscley... scary-clawy males." he added nervously, pointedly avoiding looking at one especially dangerous-looking green-skinned alien as it passed. Then he shook his head and muttered, "I was raised on an all-human colony... and since I moved here I have never got used to the Silurians."
Ianto laughed to cover up his fear at the thought of being torn apart by an alien lizard, just for looking at it funny.
Also, at the idea that just thinking could be interpreted as a come-on. So the Thessians must be telepathic. He assumed, from the fact that he hadn't seen any other aliens besides the scary green ones, that the pretty blue ones must be Thessians.
Max held the taxi door open, and Ianto climbed in first. Once they were both settled, it took off. Ianto couldn't help but watch out the window, as they flew through what looked like clearly defined lanes of traffic.
After a moment, Max finally decided he'd had long enough to marvel at the technology, and spoke up, "Name?"
Ianto turned to look at him, slightly startled, but then answered, "Michael Harper."
It was a combination. The first name had belonged to his best friend (read; 'only friend') at school. The surname was that of his favourite and least-vicious enemy. Both had already been dead before Ianto's last memory of the twenty-first century.
Max nodded, "Nice. Sounds good, and it's obscure, so even if you did steal it- and most of us do- I wouldn't know. I've heard the most ridiculous names working where I work, y'know. I swear, one guy tried to call himself Hugh Jass." Even though Max so very carefully emphasised the two separate parts of that name, there was no mistaking what it sounded like. "Then again, if you had picked the surname Hunt..."
The sudden, random, and entirely inappropriate humour made Ianto snort with laughter. He controlled himself quickly, however. He was usually more restrained than this... but that had been really funny.
"And then there's the really unoriginal." Max continued, "You're not allowed to take any famous people's names, and it's an automatic disqualification from joining at all if you even suggest calling yourself 'John Smith'. Most popular Earth name of all time, and you'd be amazed how many people wouldn't believe it if you said that was really your name."
The taxi turned smoothly out of the traffic lane and down to the ground, before stopping outside a much smaller, very plain and efficient-looking old stone building, weathered with age but still well cared-for. Much less impressive than the Agency building, and yet somehow holding an air of authority. It was an important official building, you could just tell.
"Here we are." Max cheered. As they stepped out of the taxi, Ianto glanced back the way they had come, and saw the Agency building on the skyline. A very quick journey, considering the distance... and the traffic, even in the sky!
Max led the way inside, and signed him in for the test. As his legal guardian unless and until he passed said test, it was expected that Ianto be supervised like a child. Rather degrading, but he understood the logic here.
There were about a dozen other applicants due to take the test today, as well. They were all teenagers, and Ianto had to mentally kick himself to remember that he now looked like a seventeen-year-old, himself. It was so easy to forget when he didn't have anyone but Max to compare himself to.
Even judging by appearances, however, he was still the eldest of this group.
Teenagers in the twenty-first century had always been the best place to look if you wanted to know what was officially 'cool', clothing-wise. This group, however, was about as diverse as humanly possible. In fact, he got the impression- not just now, but on the ride over here as well- that as far as clothing went, anything goes.
Not that Ianto had ever really cared that much. He had only been considering this detail to ensure that once he earned his freedom today, he would be able to choose attire that wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb wherever he went.
His own taste had always been significantly more practical... with the possible exception of choosing to always wear a proper suit to work at Torchwood of all places. Sure, Torchwood One had the facade of being a real business, and as such they had a dress code... but Torchwood Three had a seventeen percent chance, on any given day, of ending up covered in alien blood... or other fluids of one sort or another.
Thirty-eight percent, if Jack counted as alien.
The only reason Ianto had ever worn a suit there was because Jack had said it looked good on him.
It occurred to him now that if he was going to have to deal with a past version of Jack at some point, then there was absolutely no way he would be wearing a suit again any time soon. For some reason, the thought that Jack's liking for his suits came from someone he met at the Agency- even if it was him- made his skin crawl.
Most of the younger applicants here looked rather nervous, and had huddled together for the illusion of comfort gleaned from the concept of safety in numbers.
A pair of older teens stood apart from everyone else, holding hands and giving each other the sort of sappy looks that made it blatantly clear that they were only taking this test to make it legal for them to jump each other.
The rest of them were just standing around looking bored and uncomfortable with the whole situation. Exactly as Ianto was. At least he wasn't the only one, he thought.
"We're just waiting on two more applicants." a middle-aged woman in an ugly, dusty-pink dress announced to them, with the sort of efficient business-like tone that forced the listener to pay attention and show respect. "Or ten o'clock. Whichever happens first."
He smiled, faintly amused that the person in charge really didn't care about keeping strictly to the timetable... as long as you weren't late.
Ianto watched the digital clock on the wall, as time ticked by a little too slowly for his liking. It was making him nervous, and he wasn't sure just how much longer he could hide that feeling.
Just as the clock was about to strike ten, the doors opened and a young man- he looked to be the same age as Ianto did- strolled in, glanced up at the clock and grinned smugly. "Sorry, I'm two seconds early." he said, in the kind of cheerful tone that made it impossible to tell if he was joking or just in a generally good mood.
Everyone Ianto he had met so far at the Agency had varying types of American accents. The woman in pink sounded distinctly English. This boy's accent could almost have passed for American as well, except it just... wasn't. Ianto really couldn't think of anything to compare it to.
Max, who was sitting off in a corner, as far away from the other 'parents' as possible, looked up at this. "I didn't know this was your day, too."
"If you hadn't been in such a hurry, dad would have insisted we share a cab." the teenager said brightly, "Life isn't a race where first to the finish wins, y'know, Max."
Max rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat, pointedly returning his full attention to a book in his hands.
"Come on, children." the woman in charge announced, "Follow me, please."
Ianto made a point of being next to this other young man his own (apparent) age, as they walked, and asked quietly, "You know Max?"
"Yeah. Seen him around a few times." he answered with a shrug, "I'm Ross Tamsen. Please call me Tam."
Ianto hesitated, still a bit uncomfortable with his new alias, "Michael Harper."
"Nice to meet you. Good luck." Tam said with what looked like a genuine smile.
"Thanks, you too."
x x x
The test, it turned out, was incredibly easy.
Rather than the old image in his mind of an examination hall, where everyone would sit at desks with inkwells and fill in their answers on paper, the test was done on computers. Computers like the ones he had seen in Max's lab, where the screen was so thin that he was afraid to touch it in case he broke it, and the keyboard was a touch-sensitive plate instead of buttons.
He had learned everything he needed to know for this test, about contemporary laws and social standards, from the books that Max had given him. The rest was all a matter of basic logic and common sense.
He was quite surprised to find himself automatically lying on a few of the 'what would you do if...' moral questions. He knew what the 'right' answers should be, though, and he was sure that this was really the point of the test. To prove that he understood the difference between right and wrong.
The best part, in his opinion, was that the tests were graded immediately. Processed automatically by the computers, and the results issued in the form of a printout, before they left the room. This way, he wouldn't spend ages wondering whether he had passed or not.
"Everyone who received a passing grade, take the door on your right, here." the woman in charge commanded, "The rest of you, better luck next time, and please follow me."
Ianto glanced at his score, just as Tam asked, "What'd you get?" leaning just a little too close, while still failing to read over his shoulder.
"Pass, with one hundred and sixty-four intelligence, and ninety-eight percent moral integrity." He looked up at Tam, pretending not to be bothered by the obviously casual and benign invasion of his personal space. "You?"
"One-nine-seven, and sixty-three percent." he answered brightly, "Evil genius in the making."
Ianto suddenly felt the compulsion to confess, with a vaguely dismissive shrug, "I lied on the moral questions."
Tam stared at him, slightly shocked. "Now why didn't I think of that?"
They followed the others who had passed the test- including the pair of teenage-sweethearts- through the door, into a smaller room. Here they found an elderly man at a computer desk, and several chairs around the edge of the room.
The man called them up in no order that Ianto could recognise, and each person held out their left arm, to allow him to update their ID chips.
"Do you think that'll hurt?" Tam asked in an undertone. "I was too young to remember now, when I go the black mark."
"I don't know." Ianto answered with a shrug, "I'd imagine so... but I wouldn't bet on it."
"Michael Harper." the old man called out.
It took a second for Ianto to remember that this was meant to be him... and he quickly approached the desk, holding out his left arm just as the others before him had done.
The man waved a hand-held device- which must have been at least part-scanner- over Ianto's arm, and nodded at the information that appeared on his screen, before pushing a few buttons, and pressing the device down onto his arm.
He felt a slight sting, and that was it. The computer beeped in a distinctly affirmative tone, and when the device was removed from his arm a green mark had been added right next to the black one.
The man then disinterestedly handed him a small bit of plastic roughly the size and shape of a credit card, and waved for him to move along.
Upon reading it, Ianto realised that this was a certificate of passing the test. Purely for show, and completely unnecessary, as that information must now be contained on their computer systems and his ID chip as well.
He turned to leave, pausing only to stage-whisper to Tam, "Hurt like hell!" before making his way back, to find Max.
He had barely taken two steps into the waiting room when he was hit upside the head with something soft and entirely ineffective at causing any real pain. He turned to see Tam holding what looked like a wallet, and only just failing in an attempt at a homicidal glare.
"Lying bastard." Tam crowed, as if it was a compliment.
He only just noticed Tam putting his certificate away in said wallet, before both had disappeared and he wasn't sure where. "Sorry. Couldn't resist." he said with a faint smirk.
"Need a ride home, Tam?" Max asked, casually closing and pocketing the book he had been reading this whole time. "This one's got a meeting with the boss at two, so we'll be heading back there after lunch."
"You're buying." Tam said bluntly, smiling all the same, "As of five minutes ago, my allowance has been cut, so I'm broke until dad gives me a job."
"Which will be when? Two-thirty?" Max asked snidely.
Tam pulled a face, "No. Four-fifty-nine." he grinned, "Right before the official end of the work day, so I'll can still get paid and not have to do anything until tomorrow."
"When your dad plays favourites, he really doesn't do it by halves, does he?" Max said with an amused frown, "Come on, then. I know a good place in the Denvarian district, only a few blocks from here... and yes, I'm buying."
x x x
The 'Denvarian district' was like an alien version of Chinatown or Little Italy.
Denvarians also had blue skin, a much lighter shade than the Thessians he had seen earlier... and more scaly, almost draconic. Their most distinctive features were small lines of blunt horns along their temples and noses, in a way that made Ianto imagine- whether accurately or not- that they had evolved from something that once had a crest like a triceratops.
They were incredibly friendly and courteous- Max idly mentioned that they were very fond of human culture- and the food (sandwiches) actually seemed to be made from sources native to Earth.
It was surprising just how much Ianto had missed a simple ham and cheese sandwich, while Max had been bringing him strange, unfamiliar- though admittedly good- food since he had woken in this century.
Only one thing managed to disappoint... coffee was not on the menu. He had actually never asked Max about coffee, and he really hoped it still existed in this time. He was sure that it was possible for an entire species of plant to go extinct within three thousand years, but he somehow doubted this was the case here.
And that was another thing to remember not to inflict upon a younger Jack Harkness. He had once called Ianto's coffee the best in the universe... and though he was sure a younger version of Jack would like still it, Ianto refused to give those past compliments reason to become lies.
"So what was your score, when you passed, Max?" Tam asked, grinning.
"One-eight-eight, and seventy-two."
"I got one-nine-seven, and sixty-three." Tam gloated.
"Yeah, y'know there is a proven statistical curve between intelligence and morality." Max said idly. "Kael, what'd you get?"
Ianto blinked. His new name had already been abbreviated, while he hadn't been paying attention? And pointedly against all possible rude jokes involving surnames. "Oh, uh, one-six-four and ninety-eight."
"He cheated." Tam laughed.
"I know right from wrong." Ianto retorted, before asking Max, "What are the pass requirements, anyway?"
Max shrugged vaguely, "If you get less than sixty on the general knowledge, you don't know planetary law well enough, and could be a danger to yourself and others. Less than one hundred on the intelligence scale and you're not considered capable of making reasonable decisions for yourself."
That surprised Ianto. In his own time, an IQ of 100 was considered to be around average intelligence. Maybe they changed it- nobody had actually called this part of the test 'IQ', so it could be an entirely different form of measurement- or maybe people were just smarter in this time?
"Less than fifty on the moral scale-" Max continued, "-and you're a real danger to society."
"Hey, thirteen percent win, even without cheating." Tam said, smirking sardonically, "My dad's gonna be disappointed."
"Disappointed?" Ianto asked, slightly shocked at this statement. He had passed, wasn't that what counted?
"Thirteen percent more moral than the bare minimum. I'm gonna be labelled goody-two-shoes from here on out."
"That's nothing to Kael, here." Max laughed, "Ninety-eight." He let out a low whistle.
"I cheated." Ianto defended, mildly horrified at needing to feel that way about being a decent person. He didn't cheat by that much!
The other two were both laughing now, "It's not cheating if you know the right answer." Tam said brightly, "If you're not amoral enough to need to write the answers on your arm before the test, then you didn't cheat."
"Lying and cheating are different things." Max agreed, before cheerfully adding, "And you need to be good at both to get by in the Agency."
x x x
It was nearly two o'clock, and Ianto sat outside a very official-looking door labelled, 'Director's Office'. Nothing else. No name or anything.
Max had disappeared off to do whatever it was that he was paid to do in this place. Tam had said that he would be in the library if anyone needed him.
This left Ianto all alone, here.
It felt oddly like waiting outside the principal's office in school. A sense of nervousness and foreboding, even though he knew he had actually done something good, not bad.
Finally, the door opened, and a tall, stern-looking man stood there, dressed all in black, much finer than the Agency uniforms. It perfectly matched his equally black hair and dark eyes. "Michael Harper, is it?" he asked, sounding rather amused, "Very good. Do come in."
He stepped aside and beckoned Ianto into the office. Ianto immediately obeyed, looking around the spacious office with interest. It somehow managed to be cold and efficient, yet almost welcoming at the same time.
He briefly considered how very similar to Emperor Palpatine's office, in Star Wars, this place actually looked. Especially with the large window opening onto a beautiful view of the city skyline.
Come to think of it, he really didn't know what city he was in... or even what planet he was on! He could only guess at Earth because the sky was blue. And if movies were anything to go by, that really didn't help!
"This is the first time I ever knew a recruit's 'name' before they joined. Please, sit." the Director continued calmly, closing the door and moving over to sit behind the large desk in the middle of the room. Ianto warily took one of two chairs facing the desk. "I'm sure you are aware that it is company policy, for your own safety, that you not reveal your true name to anyone. In fact, in most cases it is usually the new Agent's responsibility to falsify their own death." He smiled faintly, "Not that you need to fake it, of course, but the point still stands."
Ianto frowned, "How is that for my own safety?" he asked. He had actually meant to ask Max about this strange rule, before now, but hadn't had a good opportunity.
"The Agency deals in time travel. However, we are not the only ones capable of doing so, and it has happened in the past, that by knowing a person's true identity, a malicious time-traveller could prevent them from having ever existed."
Ianto blinked. Just like they tried to do in the Terminator movies. Well, the first one at least. "Right. That's not paranoid at all." he muttered sarcastically.
The Director actually smiled at this, before changing the subject, "I'm told you're from the twentieth century?"
"Well, I was born in the twentieth century." he corrected, "I liked what I saw of the twenty-first better."
"But you do have a good knowledge of what, from your perspective, would have been recent history?"
Ianto nodded, "Yes, sir."
"We have a surprisingly high percentage of missions to that era. Local knowledge is always highly prized." the Director said calmly, before leaning forward and continuing rather more seriously, "Are you aware of precisely what you are becoming involved with, here?"
Ianto thought about it for a moment, before answering carefully, "Not exactly... but what choice do I have?"
"Until you sign a contract with us, you can still walk away."
"I'm actually very surprised to hear that." Ianto admitted.
The Director chuckled darkly, "I didn't say you would walk away with any knowledge of our existence. The Time Agency is highly classified. We don't officially exist. Nor do you, in a technical sense."
"What does that mean?" he asked, warily.
"Raising the dead is generally frowned upon by society as a whole." the Director answered calmly, "And as for my Agents, I certainly don't want them to consider it a viable option. It would be in your own best interests not to reveal your past to anyone."
"I understand. Honestly, I don't really want to, anyway."
"Very good." the Director said with a curt nod, "If you do agree to work for us, you will be given two years of training, before being assigned to active missions. These missions can be anything from simple retrieval of information, to repairing timelines that have been interfered with by external influences."
"You make it sound so benign." Ianto said, trying not to sound too morbid as he added, "If you were so noble, you wouldn't need to threaten to erase my memories."
"Most of the time, our missions can be accomplished through civilised means. However, you are quite correct." he said, with a nod. "Deception and infiltration are skills you will need to learn if you join us. As well as combat and execution."
"Execution?" Ianto repeated.
"Allow me to use an example you might be most familiar with." the Director said, suddenly giving off an air of danger and malice that genuinely frightened Ianto, though he did his best not to show it. "It was a Time Agent behind the grassy knoll."
Ianto blinked, carefully putting on the mask of emotionless calm he had learned to use around Torchwood, "Why?"
The Director carefully folded his hands in front of him holding Ianto's gaze as he answered, "A benevolent but misguided extra-temporal influence saved the president's life by interrupting the original assassin. The unexpected consequences of this act were that in nineteen-sixty-four, John F. Kennedy was impeached, leading to political upheaval that triggered a nuclear war and devastated the future of humanity as we know it. The Agency detected the disturbance before its ripple-effect could destroy our own time, and we took steps to rectify the situation."
"By committing murder." Ianto said bluntly, not entirely sure if he should be horrified by this or not. Logically, one life to save all of humanity was not a bad deal.
"Would you not do the same?" the Director asked.
"I don't think I'm that good a shot." he answered evasively.
It wasn't a complete lie. He had excellent aim with hand-guns, but had never once touched a rifle in his life. Unless that alien one Torchwood had salvaged from the docks once, which fired toxic green slime instead of bullets, counted. And even then, he hadn't fired it.
The Director casually glanced at a computer screen next to him, "Ninety-eight percent?" he asked sceptically, "And you didn't immediately deny the very thought?"
"One life for millions isn't that difficult a choice, sir."
The Director shrugged, "Moral debates are for those who have morals in the first place. I still believe you have excellent potential, if you should choose to join the Agency."
Ianto smiled faintly, "Where do I sign?"
x x x
