10
"Why?"
"How do you expect me to answer that?" Jackson laughs hollowly, "It's just how it works that's all."
Jackson looks at his agnate. The insistent stare. The knife, pointing at him like a finger. His fear yields to a flicker of anger "What do you want? A fucking apology?"
"Why do I look like you?"
"Because you are me" Jackson sighs.
"I don't understand."
"Because they made you from my cells" Jackson growls as he loses his temper, "That's right. You were made. Cooked up in a soup like a fucking boiled egg. Every thought running through your head, every word coming out of your mouth, all of it, manufactured, made."
"You need something to eat? Drink?" Jackson made to move from the couch.
"And then you'll call security?" Jack asks as he watches for the dropping of the eyes. The tell that Ianto pointed out, always told him when Jack was about to lie.
Then suddenly Jack lashes out. His fist sends his double flying, falling in a flurry of contract pages. Jack stands over him, looking down, like a dominant species. His double is unmoving, unconscious. Jack abruptly spins away.
They flee.
A light panel flashes. Jack stands grimly, head lowered, trying to fathom the anger roiling within. Ianto stares at him, wanly. Both held in the dark tableau.
And the elevator descends.
The vehicle parked in bay 53 is a hybrid of sports car and speedboat, a two-seater known as a "skiff". Jack and Ianto climb in. Jack reviews the drive console, the controls, all of it, meaningless. His eyes cross an orb set in the steering wheel. The orb seems to blink and suddenly the drive console lights up.
Jack examines it futilely. A message in front of him starts flashing across the windscreen: "PILOTING: MANUAL/AUTO?"
He considers and glances at Ianto who is huddled in the other seat. Then ventures "Auto?"
The interface processes, then asks: "DESTINATION: NAME/ADDRESS?"
"Out of state." Jack says, then frowns, "West"
The interface processes, then reports "UNDOCKING".
Jack and Ianto jolt as the skiff shunts forward. The skiff moves out, as if pulled by a phantom tugboat.
The skiff buckets off the ramp into a street inlet. Then stops rocking a little. The interface reports: "ESTABLISHING UPLINK".
On another screen, a road map appears. A red dot plants at their point of origin then drains into a red line, plotting a course. The autopilot scans for traffic, then nudges forward on the throttle. The engines drone, the steering wheel turns and the skiff noses onto the street.
Finding its lane, it drops to cruise speed. Jack studies the interplay of steering wheel, throttle and brake. Then glances at Ianto who turns to him with a frown.
"The man back there..." Ianto says softly, "who looked like you... does it mean I have someone too?"
Jack looks at him blankly, unknowing. Ianto stares off again, his brow knotting with unanswered questions. But Jack's gaze remains. His pale skin, his crystalline eyes, his hair fluttering around his hairline in the breeze. It's the first time he's really seen Ianto's beauty.
The skiff plunges into the shadow of an underpass.
The interface flashes: "UPLINK INTERFERE... AUTOPILOT DISENGAGING".
Jack sits up, confused. The skiff is now slowing, drifting as if cut loose. He studies the controls again. Positions one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the throttle. Then he nudges it. The skiff lurches, veering out of its lane. Another vehicle zips narrowly past, rocking them with its invisible backwash. Ianto looks at Jack, suddenly alarmed. Jack tries again, firm on the wheel, gentle on the throttle. And the skiff eases forward.
The sunset melts gold across the horizon as the skiff cruises westward. Jack is driving more confidently now. Ianto is huddled asleep beside him. Suddenly the skiff starts to slow again. Jack reviews the controls.
Throttle, forward, foot, off the brake. The interface flashes: "REMOTE LOCKDOWN ENGAGING".
The skiff is steering itself onto the hard shoulder. It now pulls to a dead halt. Ianto is woken by the sudden inertia. He opens his eyes and looks around. They've stopped in the middle of nowhere.
"Jack?" he asks with confusion.
"I think they jammed it somehow, remotely turned it off" Jack says, pulling Ianto from his seat, "That might mean they can track us."
Jack and Ianto walk across the salt flats. Visible in the distance is a walled settlement.
They reach the wall and look for an entrance, Ianto pulling at panels of steel at intermittent intervals.
Then he turns to Jack with a soft smile. Then squeezes through a gap.
A ring of clay brick houses. It is obviously a display of medieval houses for tourists. Ianto rushes up, looking into the open windows as if expecting to find them inhabited. He ducks into one of the houses. Jack follows him inside.
The mud walls show a skeleton of saguaro ribs, tree branches. It's cosy in here, dim. The living area, recreated with mats and pottery. Jack finds Ianto looking around, between excitement and confusion.
Ianto turns to him, his voice wavering, as he wheezes "Is this... is this place The Island?"
Jack answers with a soft "no."
Ianto's face slowly falls, the energy draining from his eyes. He lowers onto one of the bed and lies down, huddling. He looks up to Jack, wheezing "I'm tired. Let me rest for a while."
Silence prevails but for the faint rattle of Ianto's breathing. Jack sits on low stool, to watch over him as he sleeps. In his eyes, we see the weight of foreboding. He doesn't know what they'll do when he wakes.
A moaning sound, he looks at Ianto. Then realizes it isn't coming from him. The sound is far off, a rhythmic moaning. Now discernible as the chant of voices.
Jack follows the sound to a blazing fire. Figures in silhouette, moving around, chanting.
A group of people are having some sort of hippy style, pagan ritual in the moonlight.
Off to the side, a group of horses are waiting, shuffling, snorting. Jack approaches, cautiously, but somehow like a moth to the flame. He stops at a distance, watching.
"You look a little lost, my friend."
Jack turns to a figure emerging from the night. A tall man - swarthy skin, dark eyes. "Or did you come here for a reason?"
Jack examines the tall man. The face seems as deep and gentle as the voice. His sense of danger, unstirring, he concedes "I was looking for water."
"Not the best place to look." The man smiles.
"My transport..." Jack explains, "It stopped working."
"I see. And where were you going?" the man asks as he looks in the direction Jack came from.
"Out of state" Jack sighs, the destination seeming very far away.
Grey considers him. This bruised, weary outsider is somehow childlike. He motions for Jack to follow him towards the group.
The fire blazes across the face of a shaman. Old, gnarled, and dry as the salt flats. With a sacred mutter, he slips a peyote button onto his tongue. Then flings back his head, casting his eyes to the stars. When he lowers his head again, we see his pupils dilating. He rises, chanting, moving in ceremonial steps around the fire. People sit in a ring, joining the chant. Beyond the ring, others are dining at a roasting pit. Roast rabbit. Cornflour bread. The food is as it might been two thousand years ago. Only the sight of plastic water gallons breaks the illusion. Jack stands apart with Grey, eating ravenously, gulping from a water gallon.
.
.
.
Ianto stirs from slumber. On the ground beside him, he finds a bowl of food and a water gallon. Now through the gloom, he sees Jack, sitting on the stool like he never left, keeping vigil.
Something seems different about him as he turns, registering Ianto's wakefulness, "Are you alright?"
"I feel better after I sleep." Ianto answers and Jack nods absently and stares off out of the doorway. Ianto moves closer, sensing something. He doesn't understand what it is or what caused it.
Jack is in despair and it evokes a response in him. A feeling, taking him over. His hand reaches out and strokes Jack's hair.
Jack looks up at him, questioning. With supreme knowing, Ianto leans down and kisses him. At the touch of his lips, Jack pauses.
The first kiss for both of them but Ianto takes it in his stride. The calm ballet of nature. Fluidly peeling off his shirt, pale alabaster skin glowing with moonlight. Jack rising to face him, feeling his proximity, his radiant heat.
His fingers touching his skin. Ianto trembling, his lips once more finding his. Jack closing his eyes, the rush of sensation, overwhelming. He yields to it, returning the kiss, with hunger, with passion...
with love.