AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have finally managed to get around the problems I've been having uploading to FF. Unfortunately, the work around is time consuming and convoluted and because of the difficulties I have been having posting updates here, this may be the last installment of the series that I will be posting to FF. This series will continue to be posted and updated at Archive of Our Own under gubernaculum.
Once Hart's body slacked and stilled, Gwen lifted the knee pressed into his wound. Her mind became a complete blank slate of shock as her whole body began to shake. She collapsed backwards onto her seat, one hand across her mouth as she fought the urge to be sick.
This man had tried to kill her. He'd been complicit in the murder of her friends. She loathed him with nearly every fibre in her being. She'd never done more than tolerated his presence, because she'd never forgiven nor forgotten the trespasses he'd committed.
And he had died in her arms thinking she was the person he loved most in the world and who loved him that way in return.
It made her feel sick and dirty. His words churned her stomach past its breaking point. Gwen crawled a few feet to her right to a grassy area and vomited on the ground. She should've been here with you, not me... not me... anyonebut me... She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, trying to drown out the raw love of Hart's words.
It wasn't until the ambulance squealed into the car park that Gwen got herself under control. She stood up, holding her Torchwood ID aloft as they opened the back.
"Sorry, sorry," she said, her voice still rough. She wasn't sure to whom she was apologising. "It's too late. Go. Just go."
The two paramedics looked lost as they looked at Hart, Ianto and Jack. They were about to open their mouths, but Gwen shook her head then waved them off. Silently, they drove away, the lights on the ambulance dark.
Gwen walked over to Ianto and Jack. After feeling for a pulse, she determined they were just unconscious, not dead. There was nothing she could do and she couldn't move them. They were simply too heavy for her. Even if Miranda were here, they'd have difficulty with the two very large grown men.
At the thought of Miranda, Gwen felt rage bubbling in her belly. The pointlessness of it ate at her. There was absolutely no reason for her to pursue Cassie, whatsoever. Whatever ulterior motive Jack had for wanting Cassie alive was a secondary concern. They had Fish back. The ship was neutralised. She'd done nothing more than pursue some ridiculous need for revenge and had left the man she loved to die alone.
Gwen sat back and just stared off into the distance. She needed to have herself a good cry but now wasn't the time. The tumult of emotions roaring in her was too complex a mixture for her to pick apart right now. It was all too raw, too fresh. Right now, she just needed to keep a tight hold on herself. Later, when she could get home to Rhys, that's when she'd fall apart properly so he could put her back together again. She closed her eyes, breathing deep of the sea air.
The sound of Jack groaning distracted her enough. With shuddering breath, she stood up and cleared her throat. She walked over to Jack and knelt down, taking firm hold of his arm.
"Jack?" she said, her voice rough.
"Oh... my head," he said, sitting up. He turned to Gwen, taking in her strained expression. "What happened?"
"Cassie's escaped," she said, sniffling. "And John... he... he's..."
Jack looked around and saw Hart laying on the ground, facing away from him. But as the wind ruffled his hair, Jack instantly knew he was dead. There was something fundamentally wrong with his stillness. The curl of his half opened hand was too relaxed. Jack crawled over to his fallen friend. He reached out his hand, hesitant to touch him, as if his touch would make the whole thing real. After he gripped Hart's jacket in his fist, he immediately relaxed it, then smoothed the cloth to free it from the wrinkles. He brushed at Hart's hair back with a tender touch, sliding himself so he was seated directly next to the body.
Gwen put her hand on Jack's shoulder, snaking her arm down so it crossed his chest. She gripped him tightly, pressing herself into his back. Neither of them said a word as Jack silently cried, staring down at Hart's still form. A hand rested lightly on Jack's shoulder. When he looked up, he saw Ianto's face staring down at him with sympathy and a small measure of his own grief. He knelt beside them, rested his hand briefly on Hart's forehead and then stood, looking about.
"Where's Mandy?"
Gwen replied, stonily, "Cassie ran off that way. Miranda went after her." Her voice cracked as she said, "Left him here, she did. Couldn't see anything but Cassie's head on a pike."
Jack nodded and sighed.
"No, you don't understand," Gwen snapped. "He was still alive."
"What?" Jack gasped.
Gwen couldn't keep her voice from shaking as she said, "He was alive, begging for her. He died in my arms."
Jack's jaw clenched, but he said nothing. Ianto's expression was unreadable and Gwen took it as disappointment. Shaking his head, Ianto turned towards the SUV. Jack stood up, looking around. "How long?"
"I don't know. Half hour? Maybe?" She also stood.
Ianto returned with a body bag underneath his arm. He paused, looking at Jack expectantly.
"We're not waiting for her."
Together the three of them reverently placed Hart into the body bag. They folded down the seats and put him into the SUV. Before pulling away, Jack gave one last look around for Miranda. Not seeing her, he drove away. The drive was spent in complete silence. When they got to the Hub garage, they carefully slid the body bag onto the trolley, wheeling Hart through the main Hub and into the autopsy bay.
When the UNIT soldiers saw the body bag. One of them caught Ianto's eye, silently asking about the occupant's identity.
"It's not Doctor Fischer," Ianto said, to their relief, but quickly followed it with, "it's Captain Hart."
The soldier immediately snapped to attention, saluting. The other soldiers followed, paying their respects. Jack regarded them with gratitude, knowing Hart would never have thought himself worthy of such respect. Once the trolley was in the autopsy bay, all of them froze, staring at the closed body bag.
With her head down, Gwen left the autopsy bay. As she walked up the steps, she said, stiffly, "I need some air."
"Me too," Jack said, swirling away.
Neither surprised no upset at being left alone, Ianto stepped towards the instrument cupboard with the intention of beginning the post-mortem but paused. Even though Torchwood regulations stated the post-mortem of a deceased operative needed to be performed as soon as possible, Ianto paused. He dropped down in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair. He stood up and unzipped the bag, peeling it back just enough to see Hart's face. Despite the violent death, Hart looked peaceful and serene. It was an expression Ianto never thought the fifty-first century man was capable of.
"I spent a lot of time hating you for one reason or another. I'm sorry about that," he said. He put his hand on Hart's shoulder, trying to ignore the stiffening of the flesh beneath the clothing. "When you looked at him, I saw how you felt about him and I saw regret there too. I know you loved him, but you'd moved on. I could tell, but you still loved him. I love him too... enough for both of us."
There was a soft throat clear from the stairway. Ianto snapped his head up and yanked his hand back. It was almost embarrassed in its haste.
"Yes, Corporal?" he asked.
"Gordon, sir." He scarcely needed the reminder. She stepped down the stairs. "I'm sorry to interrupt you. I just wanted to offer to perform the post-mortem for you."
Ianto pulled the professional mask down over his face, straightening his posture. He glanced at the table. Miranda still didn't even know Hart was dead. "Thank you, Corporal, but the Captain will be moving to our cold storage for now. The post-mortem will wait."
She nodded. "When you're ready, the offer still stands, sir." She gave him a serious look. "No one should have to autopsy their friend."
"Thank you," he said, nodding.
"I'm sorry for your loss," she said. It didn't sound perfunctory, but genuine.
He was going to thank her again, but she walked away. As he stood up to wheel Hart downstairs, the proximity alerts went off. A bare second later, pressure flared in his head.
Mandy. He took a deep breath and hurried out into the main Hub to stop her before she got too far inside.
"Oh, Ifan! There you are! Where's Jack?" she asked, frantically. Her voice was almost manic. Her eyes were wild and ablaze.
"Mandy, listen, I need you to sit down," he said, pushing on her shoulders.
Ignoring him, she tried to push past him, but he wouldn't let her. "I lost Cassie, but I know where she may be headed. There may still be time-"
"Mandy, listen to me!" he said, shaking her a little.
The harshness of his voice and the intensity of his gaze was the only thing that got her to pause. Looking a little confused and very annoyed, she allowed herself to be led to one of the workstations, the chair hastily vacated by the UNIT soldier. She was so distracted, she didn't notice the piteous look he gave her as Ianto pushed her down to sit.
Christ, how do I tell her? He took another deep breath and said, "Cassie injured John when she tried to escape... Mandy… He's dead. I'm sorry."
Miranda stood up. "What?"
He looked up at the sound of the invisible lift's gears. He didn't have time to sort out whether it was Gwen or Jack. Over the sound of the gears, Ianto repeated, "John's dead. Cassie killed him when she escaped."
She took two steps back, the colour draining from her face.
"There you are!" Gwen spat as the lift came to a halt.
Well, that answers that. Ianto didn't have a chance to stop her and none of the UNIT soldiers realised she needed stopping. She ran across the Hub, and in a truly suicidal move, fisted Miranda's shirt in her hands, and then punched the other woman square in the face. Both women dropped to the floor as Gwen grabbed a fistful of Miranda's hair. When the blood was flowing from Miranda's nose and cheek, Gwen shook her and shouted, "You monster!"
Ianto moved to separate them but Gwen was having none of it. She reached out and grabbed hold of his crotch. Ianto barely had time to register the fact that her fingers were around his cock and balls before she squeezed. Hard.
With a shout, he fell backwards into one of the UNIT soldiers arms. His eyes watered with pain as he curled into a ball. The UNIT soldiers moved to separate the two women, but Gwen drew her gun and pointed it at Miranda's head. The soldiers, on Jack's insistence, were not armed within the Hub. They stood back, unsure of how to defuse the situation.
With her free hand, Gwen shook the other woman, hard. "All he wanted was you! He begged for you! And you left him! YOU LEFT HIM!"
Miranda made no move to defend herself or reply. "He died in my arms when all he wanted was yours and you left him behind like he was muck on your shoes! But that's what you do, isn't it?"
Her voice lowered as she hissed, "You leave people behind."
The unadulterated fury widened Gwen's doe eyes into saucers. Her volume steadily rose. "His dying words were for you - beautiful words from a loving heart I didn't know that bastard had!" She leaned until she was mere inches from Miranda's face. She lowered her voice again and whispered with venom, "And I'll take them to my grave, I will, before I let you hear them, you heartless bitch."
With that, Gwen stood up and stormed away. Ianto took a couple of huffed breaths, trying to get the searing pain in his groin to subside as he stood. He was still hunched and when he tried to take a step, he decided against it as pain shot up through his groin and into his back. Miranda didn't move, just stayed on the Hub floor, staring upwards.
What have I done? were the words that cycled round and round in Miranda's head. All she'd seen was Cassie. The hatred had pounded through her until she'd felt nothing else. It had narrowed her vision, focusing like a predator on the alien woman. Miranda had wanted nothing more than to tear the woman's throat open with her own teeth. So blinded by rage, she'd noticed nothing but the direction Cassie had fled and had barely registered when her comm unit had fallen out of her ear.
Even though Miranda had had no visual contact with Cassie, she'd continued to follow the strange alien tracks in the dirt until she'd lost the trail on a road. Angry and frustrated, she'd seen confused and affronted pedestrians and had followed in that direction. She'd followed Cassie in that manner for some time until the trail had gone cold, which hadn't taken long. By the time she'd returned to the marina's car park, the team had gone. The long walk back to the Hub had been sufficient to calm her down and allow her to think of where Cassie might be headed given the trajectory of her retreat.
She'd expected to return to the Hub and find Hart injured but alive. She remembered seeing John injured but nothing more. At the time, a dim thought in the back of her mind had reassured her that John was in good hands with Gwen and that the former PC would certainly summon medical assistance. John hadn't been that badly hurt… had he? She tried to remember, to conjure the image that had given her the excuse to continue her pursuit, but she couldn't.
Dead? Her mind couldn't even conjure up the meaning of the word. Gone. He's gone. Her mind began to spin with the words and her world imploded. A strange numbness descended over her. A heaviness draped itself over her mind and thought became impossible. In fact, every thought that entered her mind was like an ice pick in her ear. She rolled onto her side and then pushed herself up.
With the help of one of the UNIT soldiers, Ianto had managed to manoeuver into a chair to sit. The young woman was speaking to him in low tones, insisting she examine him while Ianto shook his head.
Miranda overheard them, but what they said went into one ear and straight out the other. Her mind was begging for proof – some concrete evidence that would prove Ianto wrong.
She turned and Ianto wasn't sure what frightened him the most – the thousand yard stare in her eyes or the eerie calm to her voice. "Where is he, Ifan?"
"They autopsy bay," he replied. He managed to stand, the pain reducing to a dull ache. "I haven't started the post mortem yet."
She nodded. "If I may have some time first?"
"Of course," he said, moving to follow her.
She waved him down. "I'd like to be alone."
"I don't think that's a good idea, Mandy," he said, but she ignored him.
One heavy footfall after another brought her to the autopsy bay. From the top of the stairs, she saw the partially open body bag. Hart's head was tilted towards her, his eyes were closed. The body hadn't been autopsied nor had it been cleaned. The gash on his face marred his handsome features. The blood was dry and flaking off his skin. Hart's t-shirt and coat were stained through with buckets of blood. The graphic reality was presented to her in every harsh detail. Miranda's eyes began to burn as her bottom lip began to tremble and her world rotated, sliding her into oblivion.
She took one step down and then another. When her foot hit the last step, her knee buckled and she went down like a heap, the back of her hand resting against her mouth. From her place on the cold tile floor she could no longer see Hart's face. She tried to stand, but her body wouldn't obey. Frozen, her legs awkwardly tangled beneath her, she didn't sob. She let out a wail that echoed upwards through the Hub. The grief reverberated through the cavernous space as it burrowed its way through Miranda's heart. She let out stringy wail after wail, heartbroken and defeated.
Neither Ianto nor any of the UNIT soldiers approached her. They stood back as she grieved. Ianto knew her suffering was not just from the loss of a lover, but from the plague of regret that she had brought upon herself. He felt Jack's presence before he saw him. His husband draped his greatcoat over the autopsy bay railing and took one step at a time, very slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal. He sat down on the step behind Miranda and put his hand on her shoulder. The simple touch deflated her. Her lamentation faded and she leaned back into Jack's arms as the immortal man lifted her up, cradling her against his chest. Her mouth was open, but no sound came as tears coursed down her cheeks, staining Jack's shirt. To Ianto, she looked like a small child, vulnerable and meek.
Ianto heard Jack whisper softly to her, "I've got you. I always will. You won't ever lose me. Ever."
He moved to follow Jack as he carried Miranda away, but Jack gave him a subtle head shake.
"His wife?" Gordon asked.
Ianto nodded.
"Were they together long?"
"Not long enough."
"Is it ever?" was her reply.
"No," he said, with a sigh. "It isn't."
She turned for the autopsy bay. "I'll begin the post-mortem."
Ianto snagged her arm. "No. I appreciate the offer, I do, but I'm going to await the Captain's orders."
She nodded and looked at her watch. "My shift is over. If you change your mind, I'll be downstairs. Don't worry about waking me."
"Thank you, Corporal," he said.
She gave him a tight smile and walked over towards the north stairs, passing Jack on his way back up. Thinking she might be needed, she followed a discrete distance behind Jack back into the Hub.
Jack took a deep breath and said, "I gave her a dose of sedative and put her into our bed."
Ianto nodded. He shifted his feet, lining them up against each other, then cleared his throat. With one arm behind his back, he glanced at Corporal Gordon and then turned to Jack, asking officially, "We still need to perform the post-mortem. Are there any cultural or religious customs you think he'd want respected?"
At that Jack tilted his head, thinking. He crossed his arms over his chest, gripping opposite arms. He twisted at the waist to spare the Corporal a small glanced and then turned back to Ianto, shaking his head.
"Very good, sir." Ianto gave a nod to Gordon who returned it. She side stepped Jack and started for the autopsy bay. He continued, hiding behind his professionalism, "When I've finished, I'll file the paperwork in the time sensitive section of the archive. I don't believe we have any time locks left. Is there a specific drawer you'd prefer?"
Jack took a few quick steps forward, touching Gordon's arm. When she turned, he said to them both, "Hold off on the autopsy. No drawer yet."
"Sir?" Gordon asked.
"Head on to bed, Corporal, thank you," Ianto said with a grateful nod.
With a confused shrug, the young UNIT soldier walked away as Jack strode past them and into the autopsy bay. Ianto turned to follow his husband, concerned. He arrived in time to see Jack unzipping Hart's body bag further. He watched as Jack touched Hart's hand, wincing at the stiffness of the flesh.
"No?" Ianto asked, confused.
"Cold storage for now."
He opened his mouth to ask why but shut it again. There was a pensiveness about Jack that was incongruous with the sadness and grief.
"Are you all right, Cariad?"
Jack dragged Ianto's chair over to the trolley and sat down in it so he could stare at his friend. "When I left for the Time Agency, they were so proud of me. I was the first person from Boeshane ever to be signed up for it. What I arrived to was different. Everyone looked down at me because I was from nowhere. Except for him." He wiped at his eyes. "I couldn't believe a Wixson wanted to have anything to do with me. Everyone knew about his family." Jack shook his head and sighed. "I never understood why he was so keen to run cons with me. I thought it was just to make his old man angry. It certainly wasn't for the money. His family could've bought my whole planet. Twice. He played it off at first, like he just wanted to have fun – raise a little hell. But then I met his sister, Judith."
"Cassie killed her."
Jack nodded. "When I met her she was missing two fingers from her left hand... because their father cut them off."
Ianto remembered Hart's words to him, Every story has dark chapters. Jack has his. She has hers. Joe. Henry. Even yours. Everyone's chapters have different titles like 'my Mummy killed herself' or 'my Daddy touched me in places he shouldn't. He wondered if Hart had been talking about himself.
"His father was a monster, wasn't he?" Ianto asked.
Jack nodded again. "Drove their mother to suicide. Had his son's pregnant fiancée killed." He let out a snort. "And that some of the tamer stuff he told me. Took him a long time to open up to me about it. Didn't think anyone would believe him. I always said that he was more normal than he should be and that's saying something."
At first, Jack had been reminiscing – remembering his friend. Now his tone changed to one of warning. "John's father is the embodiment of money, power and influence in the fifty first century. Untouchable."
"He sent Cassie after him," Ianto said, agreeing. "To follow him back through time is determined."
"It's easier to travel through time in the fifty-first century than you'd think. Sure the technology is highly regulated and controlled, but like everything it slips through the cracks," Jack said with a sigh. "It's why his father had him go into the Time Agency. Having an inside man made it easier. His father would send him on little off-book trips all the time."
"But he's after his inside man," Ianto noted.
Jack nodded. "In that case, he would've bribed another agent. Not that hard to do, but the Agency's shut down now, so he did the next best thing."
"Cassie."
He nodded again. "Joaquin Wixson's the type who doesn't take well to being made a fool out of. He won't stop, Ianto. Today it's Cassie. Tomorrow it'll be someone else."
"You've a plan then?" Ianto asked.
Jack nodded, taking out a device from his pocket. "This fell through the rift in a couple years ago."
"What is it?"
"A single use time travel device."
"You didn't get that from the archive," Ianto said, furrowing his brow a little. With his eidetic memory, he would know.
"I didn't take it from the archive. It's been in my nightstand. I was keeping it close in case of an emergency," Jack said, softly. He turned the device in his hands.
"And this is the emergency."
It wasn't a question, just a statement. Jack nodded. "The only way I can see out of this? It's for Cassie to succeed – let her escape back to the fifty-first with his body." He let go of Hart's hand and turned to face his husband. "It's the only way, Ianto."
Ianto's first instinct was to shout, to scream defiance, but deep down, he knew that Jack was right. It was the only way, like Jasmine and the fairies.
Seeing his acceptance, Jack turned back towards Hart. He just fell silent, looking at Hart's face. He rested his hand on the body bag, reluctant to touch the cold, hard flesh again.
Ianto sensed the change in him and moved to stand behind him. He put his hand on Jack's shoulder, firm and reassuring. "You loved him very much."
"I'm going to miss him."
Ianto let out a wry chuckle and said, "You won't have to miss him for long. He's due to come back round, remember? This isn't our version of him."
At that, Jack sprang up, the desk chair skittering backwards into Ianto's legs. The wheels hit his feet, rolled over his shoes and the chair crashed, toppling over. He cried, "Oh Gods! Where's Andy?"
Ianto frowned at the soreness in his feet. He looked at his watch. "He's only a few minutes overdue."
Jack flipped open his wrist strap. "This thing doesn't approximate."
He started tapping away, then flicked at the screen. He put the strap to his ear and frowned. "He shouldn't be overdue by even a nanosecond."
"Could Cassie have done something to her wrist strap?" Ianto asked, concerned.
Jack shook his head. "You can personalise and modify, but only to a point. Anything that would've endangered Andy's jump would've been obvious." He looked around. "Where's Gwen?"
Ianto said, awkwardly, "She and Mandy had some words. I think she went to cool off."
Jack put a hand to his forehead and rubbed. Tensions and emotions were running so high. He suddenly realised how tired he was. His eyes burned and his heart ached. "Put John downstairs and then get her back here. We need to start looking for Andy and Cassie."
After wheeling Hart into cold storage, Ianto went to Fish's workstation. The UNIT soldier moved aside for him, snapping to attention.
"Can I be of assistance, sir?" he asked. "The rift storm has quieted. We're just monitoring now."
"I'm just checking something. I'll only be a minute," Ianto said. He brought up the program that controlled their subcutaneous trackers. Even though the device wasn't designed for this purpose, Ianto didn't have time to locate Gwen the old fashioned way. Instead, he activated the tracker and pinged Gwen's location. She was within the Hub, down in the shooting range. He shut down the program and turned the workstation back over to the soldier with a polite nod, then turned towards the north stairs.
When he got to the range, the yellow light was on. He opened the door cautiously and stuck his head in. There was no one at the firing point. In fact, Ianto didn't see anyone at all until he curled his head around the door. Gwen was sitting on the floor, facing the range with her knees drawn up into her chest as she hugged her legs. She wasn't crying, just staring at a random point on the floor. Ianto shut the door and then slid down it to sit beside her. He didn't say anything or reach out to touch her, just mirrored her position.
"This version of him was different, yeah?"
Ianto's voice was rougher than he expected. "Yeah, it was."
"I always thought he'd tried to kill me with that paralysing lip gloss," Gwen said, shaking her head. "Now that I think about it, he was just using me as a diversion, he was."
He nodded.
"Radiation cluster bombs," she scoffed then took a deep breath. "Owen. Tosh. It was easy to blame him and say he had a choice, but he really didn't, did he?" She shook her head and let one of her legs extend out. "What would've I done if it'd been me? If Grey'd had Rhys?"
Ianto shifted so his arm was pressed against Gwen's.
"I treated him like rubbish and he took his licks because he knew he deserved them," she said, sadly. After resting the back of her head against the wall, she continued, "He didn't deny he was a scoundrel, but he tried to be better. He said she did that for him – made him want to be better, that he was his best version of himself around her. He wanted to be the kind of person who deserved love... her love. He thought he'd never be good enough for her." She wiped a tear before it could fall. "And she left him to die alone. No one should die alone."
She was silent for a few minutes then whispered, "The worst was when he thought I was her. The things he said... He'd really changed. Some people go their whole lives without changing like that." She put her head on his shoulder. "I don't know what to do with any of this."
"Well Owen's dead and I'm not shagging you," he said with a laugh.
Gwen lifted her head and let out a loud half sob, half laugh. She gave him a playful smack to his chest. She said with guilt and embarrassment, "Didn't think anyone knew about that."
"You two weren't exactly subtle," he said, with an eye roll.
"Must've upset Tosh something awful." There was little guilt in her voice. It had been a long time ago.
Ianto shrugged. "A little, but she'd accepted it by then that Owen would never notice her. As unhappy as it made her, sometimes I think it was more comfortable for her that way. It was safer than getting her heart broken." He sighed. "Feel any better?"
"No," she replied. "It might be a while time before I do."
He nodded and stood, holding out his hand to help her up. "I'm sorry, Gwen, but Jack needs us both back upstairs."
She clasped his hand and he pulled her to her feet. She said, "We have to find Cassie."
"Yes, but…" he said but hesitated. Get it over with. "Andy was due back over a half hour ago."
"What!?" Gwen shouted. She ran out of the range before Ianto could stop her.
"And here we go again," he said to himself and followed her.
He got back to the main Hub in time to see Gwen shoving his husband. "You shouldn't have let him! It was too dangerous!"
Jack grabbed her arm and shoved her back. She stumbled and nearly fell. "It was his choice. I'm not in the mood for your theatrics, Gwen." He turned to Ianto. "No sign of him yet."
"John ran those calculations by you. Twice," Ianto said. He crossed over to Fish's workstation. Again the UNIT soldier moved aside, giving him room after snapping to attention. Ianto wished they'd relax the protocol, it was grating his nerves.
Jack asked, "You were listening when John read me the numbers. Do you remember the values he rattled off?"
Ianto closed his eyes, recalling Hart's voice in his ear. He slowly recited the variables and their accompanying numbers and Jack jotted them down. He sat down and began to run through the maths. After going through the calculations a few more times, Jack concluded that there had been no error in them. Even though his manipulator wouldn't work, he tapped them into it. It returned the proper time coordinates. Andy should've appeared in the middle of the Hub about a half hour ago.
"What else could've gone wrong?" Ianto asked.
Jack rotated in his seat to face them, the pencil still in his hands. "Aside from a maths error, John could've entered the numbers into the manipulator wrong which would've given the calculation feature the incorrect starting place."
"That's it then," Gwen said, self-satisfied and smug.
Jack held up his own wrist strap. "Do you think something that sends you through time and space lets you make typos? It asks for verification before locking in the time coordinates. It would've given John the precise moment and location and requested confirmation of the information."
"It isn't infallible, is it?" Ianto asked. "Could it have malfunctioned?"
Jack twisted in the chair to face them. "There is a one trillionth of a percent chance that the manipulator will malfunction."
"And what do you mean by 'malfunction?'" Gwen asked, still maintaining the nasty tone.
She wasn't having a spectacular temper tantrum anymore, so Jack let the tone slide. "Dropped him somewhere or somewhen other than what it was programmed to do." Or killed him. "I think that's what's happened."
"Why?" Gwen asked.
Jack started counting off points on his hands. "The most likely explanation is that the calculations are incorrect. I've just run through them again and they're fine. I'd have one of you do it, but I'd have to teach you fifty-first century mathematics and temporal physics first. Who wants to volunteer?" He paused for a moment and continued, "The second likely explanation is that Cassie did something to her vortex manipulator so that no one else could use it. That would require affixing something to the outside of it or locking the device so that it couldn't be used without a password or before an appointed time. Because John was able to program the thing, that's not true either. If John did enter the numbers in wrong, the manipulator would've displayed the incorrect time coordinates for confirmation. It is possible he didn't notice the incorrect readout. Which leaves-"
"Andy as the one trillionth percent," Ianto said. An idea hit him and he asked, "They can break, can't they? I mean, we know John's manipulator dropped him here originally in the wrong place. And he said he went back to get it fixed."
"Yours is broken," Gwen sneered.
"Mine is broken because The Doctor broke it," Jack snapped. He sighed and said, "For this thing to break, and not alert the user to the malfunction is just as rare as it to drop you in the wrong place. These things are pretty much indestructible. They do need regular servicing, but that's something that's needed only a handful of times in its functional life. It's not a Ford Fiesta." He sighed and stepped over to Fish's workstation, gently nudging Ianto out of the way. He started vigorously typing.
"What are you doing, Jack?" Ianto asked.
He silently dismissed the UNIT soldier, who moved to another workstation. In a low voice, he replied, "Programming the rift manipulator to look for the signature a vortex manipulator will leave when it uses the rift to open the vortex."
"But program isn't designed for that," Ianto protested. "We can't tell one spike from another unless we can identify her original entry spike to use as a comparison."
"When I'm done, we won't need the original." Jack continued to type.
"Jack," Ianto hissed, tugging his sleeve. Jack was using futuristic knowledge to adjust their programs, something Ianto knew was dangerous at best.
"Fish invents these protocols around now. No one knows exactly when, so it doesn't matter if I'm a little early." Ianto wasn't sure whom Jack was trying to convince.
"Do you think Andy will figure out the manipulator and be able to find his way back?" Ianto asked.
Jack dropped his voice so Gwen, who was frantically typing at her own workstation, couldn't hear him. "If he was just dropped somewhere or somewhen else and not killed, then yes."
"You didn't say-"
"I didn't want to inflame Gwen any more than she already is," Jack said, nastily. "The chance of him being killed is roughly the same as ending up in the wrong place and time."
He watched as Jack worked, fascinated, when he remembered one of Fish's side projects. He grabbed Jack's hand. "Jack, remember the last time the rift went mad? Before I became immortal, when I was in hospital with Gwen after the plant spores? Remember Fish said that all of you were missing rift spikes and that it'd be useful if we had a way of detecting objects that fell through that we missed?"
Jack nodded. "He invents a program to do that too, but not yet."
"He already has," Ianto said, pointing at the computer screen. "It's one of his side projects that he doesn't pay too much attention to and probably hasn't made its way into his regular report-"
"Not that I read them anyway," Jack muttered.
Ianto continued over him, "-because he said he needs to work out the physics before he can continue. The whole bloody thing is on hold because, right now, he said the program makes the whole city light up."
"We can use it to find Cassie," Jack said. He reached into Fish's desk for his spare laptop where their technician kept most of his side projects. "Does he keep it on here?"
"Yeah, I think so," Ianto said, opening the laptop and booting it. "Yes, he does. Shit."
"What?"
"It uses text commands. I've no idea how to use it," he said.
Jack looked over his shoulder. There was nothing but a black screen and a blinking cursor.
"I need Fish," Jack said, shutting the laptop. "I'm going to University Hospital. I'll be back soon."