It was harder than it had first appeared, to fix circuitry armed with a futuristic screwdriver. Mike had burnt his fingers in several places before he discovered how best to hold the thing, and his work was anything but neat. When he finished attaching the wires as instructed, though, something near his left foot began to buzz. He took that as a good sign, especially when three lights above his head began to flash in a regular sequence. Jack appeared beside him then, grinning broadly, his eyes alive with manic energy.
"Great work. Couldn't have done it better myself."
"Are you kidding? I've scalded my fingers, there's molten plastic all over the floor, and my metalwork teacher would shoot me if he saw the mess I've made. This gadget of yours is a curse."
"It's designed to be operated by something with rather bigger hands than yours. And seven fingers on each of them. Takes a bit of practice." Jack caught the nearest of Mike's hands and inspected it. "You're right. You did burn yourself."
"I am in rather a good position to notice these things myself." Mike tried to reclaim his hand, but Jack merely flashed him the devil of a smile, then kissed the fingers briefly.
"There. It's not exactly nanogene healing, but it has its uses."
"I--" Well aware that he was turning an inventive shade of scarlet, Mike tried to look anywhere but forward. "Thankyou. Now let's get a move on."
"Sure." Jack let go of his hand as though he had never been holding it at all, then led the way over to the tallite case at a suddenly impressive speed. "Our battery, as it were. Everything's connected. The Master is checking his bits and pieces elsewhere. The connection with his ship, I guess. He's a little secretive about that."
"I'll bet he is. The last thing that he would want would be for it to fall into anybody else's hands. If it's what I think it is, it's pretty incredible."
"Hey. And what's my ship, huh? A steam-powered paddle boat?"
"Jack..." Well aware that the other man was merely play-acting, Mike found that he couldn't help responding anyway. "Your ship... your ship, I suspect, is not really your ship. But that's beside the point. It's very nice. Certainly beats my MG."
"MG? Never mind. You can show it to me when we've saved the Earth." Jack took a deep breath and stepped towards the tallite container. "Want to do the honours, soldier boy?"
"Hardly. Shouldn't we wait for the Master? He might not be ready."
"Oh, he's ready. He's in his ship running scans to try to find mine. He'll have done his checks and all that ages ago. The man's no fool." The former Time Agent stroked one side of the container with gentle, assured fingers. There was a switch there, flush with the side of the box; a small switch not much more than a simple touch control. It felt horribly inconsequential, and rather fragile. The easiest of things to mis-wire. The easiest of connections to screw up. Drawing in a sharp breath through his teeth, he pressed the switch.
"What happens now?" Suddenly beside him, Mike was looking about at the equipment, obviously expecting visible results. Jack took his hand, leading him back away from the box, and pointing towards the centre of the room. There was a light glowing there; a dim, white light that gradually began to build.
"The lights that we saw before?" asked Mike. Sure enough, a noise that he recognised started up then, and the white light began to change colour. A madcap nightclub, he thought to himself; a dance without music or movement. Beneath his feet, everything seemed to throb.
"Is it working?" It was one of the black-clad security men speaking. Mike had almost forgotten about them. They had done little since the semi-truce save meander and fail to be useful. He could sympathise. They had no futuristic man of action to help them along. Nobody to explain things, or point them in the right direction. Jack had apparently forgotten them himself, since he had not bothered to try to recruit them.
"I don't know." He spoke softly, his eyes everywhere at once. He was checking the readouts from a dozen screens, trying to see what was what and where was where, and how everything was doing. Mike tried to follow it all too, but it meant nothing to him. Hopeless gibberish, like on the strip of paper that he had torn from that first computer.
"You can't tell?" The wounded man, the one that Jack had shot when he had first burst into the room, held a bloodied wrist in a tight hand. He didn't seem to be in any pain, but there was worry in his eyes. Mike could almost sympathise. These people were the Master's hired muscle, but it seemed that they had known almost nothing about what was going on. They had heard things tonight that they could never have imagined before, and apparently they had chosen to believe it all. They might have wished that they hadn't.
"You'll have to give me a few moments." Jack flipped open the cover of his wrist-computer, and typed in a few brief commands. There was a flash of blue light, and the simple line hologram of the three Tragovian ships snapped back into life. Mike had not seen them before, but he guessed what they were. He could almost see that they didn't appear to be changing course.
"It's not working?" It seemed incredible after all of their hard work. The Tragovians were still coming. They hadn't been dissuaded by any foolish attempt to discourage them. The Earth was still going to be destroyed. Jack's shoulders slumped.
"No, it's not. We don't have enough power here. We can't fire the signal out far enough to hide the Earth."
"You noticed." It was the Master's voice, sharp and hard. Jack didn't bother turning to look at the other man, certain of what he would see. A weapon of some sort; a way of forcing him to hand over his craft. "I think it's time that we were going, don't you Captain Harkness?"
"Or what?" It was Mike who answered, letting Jack take a moment to dwell upon his failure. "You'll kill the rest of us? We're going to be dead pretty soon anyway."
"Very true. But the truth is, Captain Yates, that your friend here has a Chula ship out there, and I know how Chula ships work. My race and theirs have had more than our fair share of... dealings, shall we say, over the years. I know that I can't fly that ship without him to override the protocols. I could do it myself, but that would take time that I am not willing to waste. So, Captain Harkness. We have a voyage to make."
"We do?" Suddenly looking up, eyes bright, Jack broke into a wild, joyous grin. "You're right, we do. Of course!"
"Jack!" Horrified, Mike turned on him in an instant. "You can't mean that. Leave him here to die, and we'll all go down together. Might as well accept the inevitable. To save him..."
"I'm not saving him. Well, yeah, I guess I am. Side effect. Mike, think about it. We can't generate enough power to get the signal to work. So what do we do?"
"Boost the signal? Run it through your ship, you mean?"
"No. Nice idea, but the equipment isn't up to it. We'd fry everything. No, if we can't make the signal work, we don't boost it. We take it closer to the Tragovians! We load the tallite up on my ship, and we fly it up there. You know. That thing about mountains and Mohammad. It'll work."
"Do you know, I believe that it will." The Master sounded almost impressed. Jack whirled around. He could see what looked like a black pen gripped in the other man's hands; a weapon of some kind no doubt. It was irrelevant now.
"Then you'll help?"
"No. I intend to leave, and as far as I'm concerned this planet can fry. It and all of its unfortunate occupants. But I confess that escaping with the tallite is most definitely a better plan than leaving it here to expire with the planet. So by all mean, Captain Harkness, take it aboard. Yates can help you."
"It'll take more than just the two of us if there's half a tonne of it in there." Mike looked around rather hopefully. "Some sort of trolley, perhaps?"
"We'll all shift it." One of the black-clad guards stepped forwards, throwing away the gun that he had been holding until now. "Between us we can get it done. Jerry can give directions. He's not much use with that hole in his hand."
"Yeah. Sorry about that." Jack flashed the unfortunate Jerry a smile. "Needs must, you know?"
"No hard feelings." Jerry, who like all of his colleagues had established a fearsome reputation amongst the locals as a hardman and a bully, smiled back at Jack as though they had been friends all of their lives. Mike blinked. He couldn't help thinking that whatever it was that Jack had in that smile, it ought to be bottled.
"You should get it seen to, soon as possible." Chatting away quite happily with the man who would, very recently, have cheerfully killed him, Jack glanced over the wound himself. "Looks like a fairly clean injury. You should keep it up, lessen the bleeding. And check the pulse in your hand every so often. Make sure it's still there."
"Thanks. You a doctor?"
"Hardly. Did once spend the best part of a month in the Australian outback with a flying doctor, but I guess that's not quite the same thing. Knew a whole lot about anatomy by the time we got back to civilisation, though." Jack grinned. "Well - her anatomy, anyway."
"Pleasant though this no doubt isn't..." The Master was still pointing his cylindrical weapon at a roomful of people who, to his obvious annoyance, had apparently forgotten about it. "We have to get that box onto that ship. And as soon as possible."
"I could transmat it, if I go back to the ship myself first. Have to sort out the protocols. It's all a little skittish." Jack raised a questioning eyebrow. "Do I get to go alone, if I promise to be a good boy? Only until I get fixed, I can't take anybody else."
"Transmat?" Jerry was looking doubtful. Jack clapped him on the shoulder.
"Don't worry about it. You guys can stay here, I don't have the room for everybody on the ship, anyhow."
"So you're going to leave us here? The planet's going to explode, and you're going to leave us?" It was another of the guards speaking, but it was Jerry's shoulder that Jack gave a reassuring squeeze.
"The planet isn't going to explode. Well, not for a whole lot of years yet. We're not running out on you."
"If we don't hurry up, we won't be leaving at all." The Master gestured with his gun. "Very well, Captain Harkness. Go to your ship, make your alterations, and then transport myself and the tallite aboard. And do it quickly. If you take longer than five minutes, I shall begin to shoot these people. It will not be quick for any of them. Do I make myself clear?"
"I'm hardly going to run off, am I. I'm deader than any of you if this plan doesn't work." Jack nodded. "Okay. Five minutes ought to do it, but count slow. You shoot any of them, Fred, and I'll blast off out of here without you."
"I doubt that. You wouldn't leave the others." The Master smiled, his expression as smug as ever. "Four minutes and forty seconds."
"I'm gone." Jack pulled his remote device from his pocket, pressed a button, and disappeared in a flash of blue light. The security men blinked.
"What the...?" Jerry had the expression of one who thought that he might just have had a divine experience. Mike almost laughed. If there was one thing that Jack Harkness clearly was not, it was an angel.
"Just a transportation device," he said, making it sound plain and ordinary. "Don't you ever watch any science fiction?"
"Yeah. But that's science fiction." Jerry shook his head. "He's really some kind of spaceman, isn't he."
"Some kind, yes." Mike checked his watch. Four minutes and forty seconds didn't sound like a long time to him, when there was a 'skittish' ship that needed reprogramming in some way. "Look, I used to be in the army. I can still do a pretty good field dressing. You'd better let me take care of your hand."
"Cheers." Jerry held out the injured hand without pause, apparently not giving so much as a thought to trusting in a man who technically was still the enemy. Jerry and his compatriots were, after all, still in the employ of the Master. That fact was not lost on Mike, who was not nearly so immediately trusting of them as Jack had seemed to be. One minute he had been shooting Jerry, the next practically flirting with him. It was unfathomable. And on no account, thought Mike, as he tried to focus as much of his mind as possible upon the bullet wound in Jerry's hand, was that jealousy that he was feeling. He had no claim upon Jack. He didn't want one.
"Two and a half minutes," announced the Master, sounding as though he were enjoying himself. To Mike it seemed a strange way to be entertained, given the Time Lord's own position just then. He was as dead as everybody else if Jack failed to return. Perhaps it was an indication of just how much he wanted to see the Earth, and with it the Doctor, destroyed, that he was prepared to die himself in order to see it happen. Mike doubted it. The Master had never seemed suicidal before - quite the opposite. There was no mistaking his hatred of the Doctor, though. Mike wondered if the other Time Lord was even on the Earth right now. Since his TARDIS had been fixed he had spent much of his time gallivanting about the place, and was no longer confined to one planet. He might be light years away, safe even if the Earth was doomed. It was a reassuring thought. A shame, though, that Jo was no longer with him. She would be safe too then, instead of condemned like everybody else. Still - it was something that the Doctor might yet be out there. That he at least might survive. The Master presumably did not know that the Doctor's TARDIS was no longer broken, or he would have tried to steal it when his own had ceased to work, rather than staying to prevent the Tragovian attack. Mike smiled at that thought. They could so easily have failed to find out about all of this in time. Fate was a strange thing, throwing out clues and warnings when she might so nearly have remained quiet.
"I thought this was going to be an ordinary job." One of the black-clad guards, seated on the floor, was toying aimlessly with his gun. "Keep the locals away. Scare the kids, beat up the occasional busybody. Earn enough money to keep me in beer for a while. Then some guy turns up, kills half of us with the weirdest exploding gun I've ever seen, and then vanishes in a puff of smoke after telling us that aliens are planning to blow up the Earth. I can't decide if I'm drunk, asleep, or high on something I didn't know I'd taken."
"You're not asleep," offered Mike, less than helpfully. Jerry flexed his wounded hand, now more or less safe within an improvised bandage made from pieces of his own sleeve.
"I don't usually get shot when I'm drunk," he added. His friend on the floor laughed briefly.
"Me neither. But then the planet doesn't usually get attacked by aliens when I'm sober." He shrugged. "Or maybe it does. Maybe it's being attacked all the time, and we just don't get told about it."
"I couldn't possibly comment." Mike checked the time. They were nearly out of it, and he had a nasty suspicion that he knew who the Master was planning to shoot first. There was an unpleasant irony to dying just before Jack was able to implement his plan to save the Earth. And he would save it - Mike was sure of that without quite knowing how. It wasn't the same sort of faith that he had in the talents of the Doctor, or in the efficiency of the Brigadier. Without having any explanation for it, he was just sure that Jack would win through. Or perhaps it was just wishful thinking.
"One minute," declared the Master, apparently unaware that everybody else present had a watch too. "He's taking his time, isn't he Yates. Perhaps next time you should choose a knight whose shining armour hasn't become quite so tarnished."
"He'll do it. He said himself that his ship was temperamental. How easy can it be to persuade an alien ship to do something that it doesn't want to do?"
"For a human, apparently not very easy at all." The Master tapped his gun irritably against his fist. "I should have gone with him."
"His transmat doesn't like anybody who isn't him." Mike remembered all too well the sight of Jack disappearing, when he himself had been trapped in this very room with the Master and his hired muscle. Hired muscle that was now sitting around looking anything but muscular. Hired despair might be more to the point.
"Or perhaps, captain, he's decided to fly away and leave us all to our fate." Real steel flashed in the Master's voice. "Panic has an unfortunate effect upon the human mind. We've all seen it. Panic and terror."
"Jack looked anything but panicked." Mike checked his watch again. Twenty seconds. Great. Twenty seconds in which to look his last upon the world, and wonder what might have been. This skittish ship of Jack's might well be his last and greatest foe. The Master gave a low laugh.
"Soon it will matter no longer, Captain Yates. Fifteen seconds."
"He'll be here." The black, cylindrical weapon of the Master's was pointing at the humans again, ready to fire. It moved from one to the other of them, apparently searching for the most likely target. "You really don't trust anybody, do you."
"On this planet? No. If you haven't realised yet what sort of contempt I feel for the inhabitants of this place, you're as foolish as I have every reason to suppose all humans to be. My race is an arrogant one, Captain Yates. We tend to trust none but ourselves. It's nothing personal, you understand - just mere superiority. Eight seconds. Seven. Six."
"Why kill us? You know that if he's left we're all going to die anyway." Jerry was nursing his hand, clearly wondering if it was ever going to get the chance to heal. The Master shrugged.
"A way to pass the time? Three seconds. Two. One." A brief smile leapt into life upon his face, then vanished again in an instant. "Too late." The gun levelled at Jerry.
"No!" Mike had been so sure that he would be the first one to die that he had never even considered that the others might be at risk. Certainly not Jerry, already wounded and a problem for nobody. Chatty, cheerful Jerry, probably with a criminal record as long as he was tall, and with who knew what kind of reputation for violence. Mike liked him, though by no means did he understand why.
"Time's up, Captain Yates." The Master's tone was emptily dismissive, as though Jerry's life could not possibly be worth waiting another few seconds. The black-gloved fingers tightened around the weapon, and Mike, not sure what exactly he hoped to do against the Time Lord, threw himself forward. For a second they struggled - for a second he felt that same, impossible strength that he had felt before from the Doctor - and then everything was blue, everything was spinning, and with a clang of metal decking he was falling onto the floor of Jack's ship. A beam of light burst from the Master's gun, striking a bulkhead in a shower of sparks, and Jack popped up from behind it looking indignant.
"Hey! I know I was cutting it a little fine, but that's no reason to try to blow my head off."
"Jack!" It was an expression of relief rather than a greeting. Mike sat up slowly, rubbing his head. Whatever he had hit it on had been hard, unyielding, and made of corrugated metal, and he could have sworn that the humming sound coming from inside it was the ship laughing at his misfortune. Either that or it was just a ringing in his ears. Jack looked concerned.
"Are you hurt?"
"Not yet." It was the Master who answered. Annoyingly he had retained both his footing and his weapon, and the latter was now pointing at Mike. "I don't remember saying that he should come along."
"I know. But I want him here." Jack reached out to catch hold of Mike's arm, hauling him to his feet with a faint flourish. "Adds a little something, don't you think?"
"This ship is not designed for three people." The Master looked around with distaste. Mike could sympathise. The Master was used to travelling by TARDIS, with unlimited space and no company. Still, this ship was hardly crowded. All the same - there was one decided disadvantage to him being on board, which he could see even if Jack couldn't.
"You do realise what will happen if your plan doesn't work?" he asked. Jack flashed him a faintly apologetic grin.
"Yeah. In very little time I'll snap out of existence, and you'll be alone on an impossible spaceship with a psychopath who hates you. Always supposing his plan to shield this baby works. Indulge me, Mike."
"Thanks."
"It's nothing personal. Well yeah, it is. It's just that if we win I'd rather be celebrating with you than with Fred here. I don't much fancy kissing him."
"A fact that fills me with considerable relief." The Master hesitated for a moment, then nodded sharply and put his weapon away into a concealed pocket. Mike could see no bulge to indicate its presence, but he had no doubt that that menacing black cylinder would reappear again in a moment should he or Jack try something that the Master didn't like. "Always supposing that the crew is to your satisfaction, Captain Harkness, perhaps we should be getting underway?"
"Yeah. Sure." Jack slid into the pilot's seat, gesturing vaguely behind him. "Sit down. There's plenty of places to sit if you look about a bit. It's hardly first class, but it works." Something beside his head squawked, and he slapped at a piece of the console. "Or most of it does, when it's in the mood. Any requests for the sound system?"
"Just fly the ship, captain, or I will do it for you." The Master smiled tautly. "And I will begin by removing you and the other good captain, and then leaving without making any attempt to complete your plan. So fly."
"Point taken." Jack sounded faintly offended, as though being threatened aboard his own ship was somehow a worse kind of insult. "Comfortable, Mike?"
"I... suppose so." He had no idea how to prepare himself for flight though, as he sat upon a raised piece of decking, surrounded by coloured lights, dangling wires, and strange things making peculiar noises. Did he need a seat-belt? What about the G-forces? Would they lose gravity when they went up into space? "What about the tallite?"
"It's in a tractor beam. I snapped it up just after I got you two. It'll follow us up, and then when we get far enough out into space, I'll dump it. With a bit of luck it'll hit the right orbit, and hey presto. Or so we hope." Jack's hands danced over the controls. "And you should torch that house when this is over. There's too much stuff in there that shouldn't be found."
"We shouldn't leave it transmitting?" It made sense to Mike to keep broadcasting, and keep the Earth hidden from alien threats. Jack shook his head.
"It's not a permanant set up. It'll burn itself out in a few days. Besides, an anomalous signal like that could be more trouble than it's worth."
"What he means is, it might attract a good deal more than it deters. Even using it now is a risk." The Master smirked. "Oh yes, Captain Yates. Your friend here is full of good ideas, but what he seems to have failed to mention is that the energy signature of tallite might well attract other races."
"Who aren't planning to blow the planet up any minute now. We'll worry about consequences later." Jack flicked a switch, and a shiver of power ran through the ship as the engines ignited. "He's trying to scare you, Mike."
"Just get us up there. I'll worry about what does and doesn't scare me when everything else is sorted out."
"Worry later. My kind of thinking." Jack flashed him a grin that was almost entirely inappropriate, then turned back to the controls and hit several more switches. Something rumbled. Something vibrated, powerful, restrained and grand. Seconds later the Master was standing at Jack's shoulder, watching the screen in front of the pilot's seat, and nodding his head in obvious approval.
"It's not bad for a Chula vessel. A little basic. A little cramped. What's your heading?"
"Space." Jack reached past him, flicking switches and pressing buttons. Holographic letters floated in the air beside his head, and bright words scrolled by on screens. Machines chattered, and Mike felt utterly lost. Jack seemed to know what was what, though, and that was at least partly reassuring. "According to these calculations, we should be able to block the Tragovian sensors if we jettison the tallite pretty much anywhere outside of the Earth's atmosphere, but I want to be sure. I'll take it as far out as we can go."
"Whilst avoiding any risk of becoming visible to the Tragovians ourselves." It sounded like an order. Jack glanced over his many readings.
"If I can, yeah. I don't go in for throwing myself in danger's way just for the hell of it. But if I don't want to never have been born, I've got to take a calculated risk now. The chances of them worrying about one ship out in what should look to them like the middle of nowhere, is pretty small. There's no honour in destroying one tiny vessel."
"They're Tragovians. Honour for them is rather different than it is for the rest of the universe. Be very careful, Captain Harkness, or you might find yourself not being the captain for very much longer." The Master's eyes glittered darkly. "Make no mistake; I can take this ship in a second. If I don't like what is going on, then that is precisely what I will do."
"Spoilsport." Jack looked back at Mike. "Make yourself useful, soldier boy. Look at this screen here, and tell me when the reading reaches one thousand. And if you can, keep an eye on that other screen just over there. If it reaches ten, yell."
"With the greatest respect, captain, if that reading reaches ten he won't have to yell. We'll be able to see the fleet out of the front window."
"Fair point." Jack nodded. "Yell out if it reaches twenty-five then. If it reaches ten... duck. And hold on tight to something."
"Twenty-five is hardly better. You should not risk it reaching even that low."
"In an ideal universe, no. But this is hardly ideal, is it. For the guy who called those ships out here in the first place, you've got a lot of gall moaning about it now." Jack hit a series of buttons rather hard, and lights rotated around the control cabin. Something squawked in electronic reproach. "If you don't like this plan, make your move now. Except you won't, as there's no way you can use that weapon of yours in here. And you know it."
"I don't need a weapon." The Master's voice was level. Soft, dangerous, chilling. The fact wasn't lost on Jack.
"I don't doubt it." For once he sounded entirely serious, his usual devil-may-care attitude gone. "But this ship has seen a lot of action, and I haven't been able to take as good care of it lately as I'd like. Just remember that if you do use that weapon, you could well be killing us all." He returned his attention to his readings, frowning at them in deep thought. "Between you and me, Fred, I think running is out of the question now anyway. They're too close."
"Then you were considering it." There was a hint of triumph in the Master's voice, as though he had been trying to judge Jack for some time. Mike glanced up briefly, but didn't say anything. Jack smiled.
"Are you kidding? Of course I was considering it. There may not be any sense in running away if I'm going to get written out of history in the process, but it still has a certain attraction. Do I look like Mr Chivalry?" He sighed, and punched in a series of commands with heavy, forceful hands. "That's the tallite's away. I have to take us out of Earth's orbit to see if it's working, so you might as well sit down. Admire the view or make yourself useful. There's nothing else to do."
"I wouldn't be so sure." The Master's eyes were lingering on a set of controls that Mike couldn't identify. Jack didn't seem interested.
"Listen, Fred. Master. Whatever. I'm the king of sneaky getaways. There isn't one here or I'd have found it. Now keep out of the way. Me and Mike have a planet to save."
"I think not." There was a smile once again in the Master's voice; a smug smile that spread itself into his eyes. "I have my own plans, captain, and they do not include you risking us all by flying out into space, in full view of that fleet, just to test your handiwork. It was good of you to bring me up here, and good of you to bring the tallite as well. I realise that you did neither for my sake, but to my way of thinking, in the end everything is for my sake. Turn over control of the ship to me."
"What for? This is the best plan we've got." Jack's eye caught Mike's, and the fifty-first century captain gave his twentieth century counterpart a brief smile. "Keep your eyes on those readings, Mike. Both of them. We need to know what's going on with the Tragovians as well as with the equipment back on Earth."
"Right." He didn't like taking his eyes off the Master, but he had to trust in Jack to know what to do now. Jack, as usual, just looked like he was making everything up as he went along.
"Best plan?" The Master was as scathing as ever. "You call setting up a shield around the Earth, and then leaving it's protection, our best plan? And what if your clever little idea does work, Captain Harkness? What then? We go back to Earth - a safe, happy little Earth that knows nothing of the dangers it's just faced - and you let me go back to my ship? Finish my repairs and go on my way? Hardly. Prison does not agree with me. I want this ship."
"If you don't want to go back to Earth, fine. I'll drop you off somewhere later. You've just said that you don't want to leave orbit while the Tragovians are out there, so what do you want the ship for? I can keep it in orbit just as well as you can."
"Except that you don't plan to do that. And besides, you overlook something, captain. I want the Earth destroyed. That's why I set all of this up. The Tragovians. My little project down there in Cornwall. I may have hit a slight snag, but your timely intervention has given me the means now to see that I succeed after all. If this ship were to have the sort of protection that you've been planning for the Earth, we would be able to fly right past the Tragovian ships without anybody on board being aware of our presence. We could make our escape without incident - and that is precisely what I plan to do."
"Grab the tallite and use it yourself? You'd be leaving the Earth unprotected." Mike glanced up again, momentarily forgetting the instruments. It was not lost on him that he was arguing a point that meant absolutely nothing to the Master, but he couldn't help speaking up anyway. The look of contempt that he received in response was more eloquent than any of the Master's smug, verbose declamations.
"I would indeed, captain. Is there some reason why I should think this a bad idea?"
"We can't let you do it." Jack was trying to stand up to the Master with one eye on his controls and one on a series of readings that floated across a display screen beside his head. It was hardly the best position from which to look determined. The Master merely laughed at him.
"And how exactly do you propose to stop me? If I cannot use my weapon, then you cannot use any of yours. And I am many times stronger than both of you. I am a Time Lord, Captain Harkness. Can you really have any knowledge of what that means?"
"More than you might think." Jack darted a nervous glance at a reading beside him, and Mike, his own eyes drawn back to the readings he himself had been detailed to watch, saw that the second had reached thirty. He was suppose to yell out when it hit twenty-five. Somehow he couldn't help thinking that they were likely to be otherwise occupied when it did. "Can't let that matter, Fred. I plan on saving my life, and the only way to do that is to save the Earth. If I ceased to exist whole planets would go into mourning. I owe it the universe to save myself."
"A noble sentiment, captain, and one with which I can sympathise. I intend to save myself, and the most logical course upon which to embark is to use that tallite myself, rather to trust in your improvisation, your haphazard calculations and your typically faulty human judgement. And since my plan also sees the Earth and everything on it destroyed, I fail to see any flaws. Surrender your ship."
"Or die?" Jack shrugged, the devil-may-care glint back in his eyes. Mike almost smiled, until he remembered his readings, and saw that that all-important second one was now on twenty-seven. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. This was not the time for him to interrupt. The Master laughed lightly. Evil though he was, he was not without a sense of humour, and the irony of Jack's situation had not escaped him.
"Quite. If you do not stand by and allow me to destroy you, I shall kill you now instead. An interesting dilemma on your part, but not one that especially interests me. I can snap your neck like a twig. Stand aside."
"Really." Jack's eyes darted briefly towards Mike, who wordlessly mouthed a number, in the hope that his companion would be able to interpret it. Twenty-six. He had no idea himself what it meant, other than that it seemed to be some indication of how close the Tragovians were. Ten, and they would more or less on top of the ship. Twenty-five, presumably, was the last truly safe figure before everything was at stake. "You really think that you'll be safe in this ship, if I never had the chance to bring it here? You really believe that you can govern that kind of paradox?"
"I learnt the ways of Time in the cradle. Such things are child's play. Stand aside."
"Maybe I better had." There was something regal in the Master's bearing; something powerful and grand and impressive. He needed only a billowing cloak to complete the image, and turn him into some nightmare being - or, perhaps, a cartoon caricature. Jack took a slow step backwards. Mike tried not to look disappointed. Jack might insist that he was no hero, but surely he wouldn't give in so easily? Surely he wouldn't just step aside, and let the Master save himself and destroy the Earth? And yet just now Jack looked utterly defeated.
"You're a wise man, Captain Harkness. If a soon to be dead one." The Master was smirking, all the contempt and the smug self-satisfaction reaching a crescendo in his voice, and shining in a veritable star-storm within his eyes. "It's been a while since I flew a Chula ship, but this appears to conform to the basic design. What are your security protocols?"
"There aren't any. I took them off-line when I brought you two on board. Like I said, the whole thing is pretty skittish, and I didn't want Mike disintegrated. That's no way to welcome back visitors."
"Then move over towards the back of the ship." The Master had drawn his weapon, though presumably he had taken heed of Jack's earlier warning not to fire it. He seemed to like it in his hands; seemed to like emphasising its presence, the better to survey his prisoners from a position of superiority. His eyes gleamed, and his mouth twisted into a gleeful, gloating smile. "Captain Yates? That second reading, if you wouldn't mind. What is it currently?" Mike glanced down at the screen, then back up at Jack and the Master. The merest hint of a smile briefly lit Jack's expressive face, and without quite knowing why, Mike took it to be a message. It could just as easily have been Jack being his usual arrogant self, but in that brief instant Mike judged the situation, and decided that he had nothing to lose. He glared at the Master, took a gamble, and lied.
"It says thirty-two."
"Good." The Master laughed softly. "Then there's still time. The blue button behind you, Captain Yates, if you would be so kind. Press it twice. Captain Harkness, you'll oblige me by putting your hands above your head and stepping back even further. I don't trust you."
"That makes two of us." Jack did as he was told, his eyes never once leaving the Master's gun. "You're not really going to risk firing that thing?"
"If needs must, I could cheerfully stab you with it. It wouldn't be the best use of its capabilities, but it would get the job done. And there would be no risk then to the integrity of the ship. Captain Yates - the blue button."
"Press it yourself." He stepped back, away from the button, away from the screens and the alien controls. Far out of reach of the Master, and his inhuman strength. Displeasure flashed in the dark eyes, but the Time Lord didn't shoot him, even though his aim was sure.
"I might be willing to let you live, captain. You're not improving your chances."
"Yeah, Mike." As the Master's eyes focused their building wrath upon the former UNIT officer, Jack took a slow, easy step to one side. "Be a good boy."
"You can shut up. I can't believe you gave in like that. Just stepped away and did as you were told. He's going to kill everyone, and you're going to let him get away." For a moment the anger was real, the fear that Jack really had given in rising within Mike unchecked. He shot a furious, contemptuous look at the Master that almost matched the Time Lord's own characteristic scorn. "You want that button pressed, you press it. Shoot me, throw me overboard, whatever you want. But don't ask me to do your dirty work for you."
"Oh, I'm sure that I can be much more inventive than just throwing you overboard." The Master edged forward slightly. "Very well. I shall press the button if it distresses you so. The result will be the same." With one hand he reached out towards the control, the other hand still gripping his distinctive weapon. It unnerved Mike to see it. The Master might easily forget himself in a moment of anger, and fire the thing - and if Jack had been telling the truth, it would all be up for them then. He wondered what it might feel like, to be sucked out into space, and had to conclude that it would be very much better not to find out.
"Don't worry, Mike. Losing your home world isn't so bad." Jack's voice was level, and oddly serious. "Planets are destroyed all the time. Species live on, sometimes. You're probably not the only human off-world at the moment."
"Yes. Wonderful. I get to stand here and watch everything blow up. A real once in a lifetime opportunity." Mike watched the Master's hand as it reached the button it sought. Saw, in the corner of his eye, Jack take a sharp, sudden step to his right.
"Look out!" Jack thought that he was safe; thought that the Master would not be able to see him, but it was as though the Time Lord had eyes in the back of his head; as though some sort of perception far beyond the human senses had warned him of what was going on. The black, cylindrical gun snapped up, even as Mike was yelling his split-second warning; something flashed, and Jack crashed sideways onto the nearest console. There was a tremendous shower of blue and yellow, a burst of hot white that made Mike's eyes burn, and in that instant everywhere alarms were sounding. Two-note klaxons above Mike's head; single note sirens behind him; a manic, insistent beeping that seemed to come from somewhere beneath his feet. He fully expected then to see the ship falling apart around him; to see space breaking in upon them, and feel the last of the air leaving his lungs. Instead he saw Jack, hammering away at a computer keyboard even as the Master was adjusting his aim.
"Keep watching those readings, Mike!" Jack was typing furiously now, the lights around them flickering and faltering. The Master swore, his aim ruined by sudden bursts of pitch, pitch black. It was too easy for Jack to dodge, and too easy for the weapon to hit the wrong thing. Putting the little gun back inside his clothing, the Time Lord started forward across the deck.
"Readings!" How the hell could Jack worry about the readings at a time like this? Mike couldn't even see the things, the blackouts extending to every piece of equipment in the ship. He saw in brief bursts of blue and yellow light - both of the numbers he was detailed to watch still changing, both pieces of information still useless to him. Somewhere off to his left he heard a clattering and a grunt, and in a heartbeat of unexpected red light, saw Jack and the Master tangled together, wrestling furiously. The Master unquestionably had the upper hand, and Jack was fighting for his life.
"Jack?" It was dark again, and they had vanished into the black. Mike started forward, missed his footing, and fell against something that beeped loudly at him. Sparks leapt out at his hand, and he snatched it away again quickly, a buzz like an electric shock catching at the ends of his fingers. Another grunt sounded out in the darkness, further away this time, and when the lights came on again he caught the briefest glimpse of the Master bashing Jack's head against the floor, before the power failed.
"Jack!" He wanted to help, but he couldn't see a thing, and he knew that he risked causing more trouble if he got involved. Only then, floundering in the darkness, did he remember that dark night, back when the Silurians had been reawakened. He and the Doctor, alone for a few minutes between crises, and talking together properly for almost the first time. The Doctor, taking pity on the young officer having to go out on a patrol in all that blackness. Fumbling, he pulled out the night-vision device and slid it on over his eyes. His world changed in an instant. Breaking into a run, he reached the struggling duo, catching hold of the Master's shoulders and pulling him off balance. The Master lashed out at him, but Mike dodged easily, locking his arms around the Master's in a hold learnt long ago in basic training. He had no confidence in being able to hold on for long, but for now at least he clung tight. On the floor somewhere by his left foot, Jack lay prone for a second, then gathering himself together he forced himself upright, drew a deep, steadying breath, and threw Mike an unexpected wink. Mike wasn't surprised when gentle hands removed the night-vision lenses. Seconds later the Master went limp in his hands.
"What-?" Confused, he let go of the slumping Time Lord. A low laugh answered him from out of the darkness.
"Watch your eyes." Jack's voice, cheerful and cocky as always. Mike closed his eyes briefly, and felt the lights come back on. The sirens fell silent. A hand took his, and suddenly he was being pulled up to his feet.
"Hi." Jack was grinning at him when he opened his eyes again. There were signs of his fight on his face and his clothes, but it didn't seem to have dimmed his spirits any. With a flourish he handed back the night-vision glasses. "Nice gadget. I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about it."
"Sorry." It hadn't struck him for a moment that Jack had been expecting him to use the things. The Doctor's improvised gadgetry had been the last thing on his mind when the lights had gone out, when he had thought that the ship was about to fall apart. Jack laughed gently at him.
"My fault. You thought the Master's little black thing had done for us, didn't you. Window dressing, my boy. All part of the act. This ship is pretty rickety, but I think it can stand up to one or two shots from some super alien weapon. Or I hoped it could, anyway."
"Did you hit him with something?" Mike looked down at the prone body. Jack shook his head.
"No. Zapped him. More efficient. I knew I didn't have a chance fighting him hand to hand, even with your help. There's a lot more to him than meets the eye."
"You can say that again." Retrieving his hand from Jack's grip, Mike stowed away the night-vision lenses again. "Now what? Back to Earth?"
"I don't know. What are the readings like?" Jack was dusting himself off, crossing over to the pilot's console to check for damage. Even though he had exaggerated the dangers of firing a gun, it was still possible that something had been broken. Mike stepped over the Master and made his way over to his own assigned console.
"The top one says one thousand and fifty. Is that good?"
"Should mean that the tallite is doing its job nicely." Jack flashed him a killer grin. "Congratulations. I think we just saved the Earth. And the second?"
"It says seventeen." Mike seemed to remember the Master being worried about it falling below twenty-five. "That's not so good, is it."
"On a scale of disastrous to delightful, it's pretty far away from the bells and balloons, yeah." Jack tapped a few buttons, and a hologram unfolded itself in mid air. Three ships looming large, bulbous and unattractive even when fashioned from lines of sparkling light. "Hell. You a religious man, Mike?"
"I don't know. I've never really thought about it all that much. Are you wanting me to pray!"
"Not necessarily. Just thought it might give us better odds if one of us was the innocent and blameless sort. Less likely to get zapped through cosmic karma then." For a second Jack was still smiling, his eyes bright and warm; then real seriousness took over, and his voice changed. "Hold tight."
"I want to help." He didn't really think that there was anything that he could do, but he had to offer. Jack just turned away, almost as though he were shutting the other man out.
"You ever seen an alien fleet, Mike?" His words were a surprise. Mike had thought that the talking was over. He shook his head slowly, even though the pilot had now turned his back.
"I've seen alien ships. Never a fleet, though, and not properly in flight."
"Well you're about to see one now. Three ships isn't a proper fleet, I guess, but it's more than enough to atomise every planet in this solar system. So you can imagine what it could do to us."
"I'd rather not." Mike's eyes drifted back to the readings. "The counter says sixteen. Can they see us?"
"Yeah. We're far enough out of Earth's orbit now, though. It won't look like we've just come from there."
"So the Earth is safe?"
"I think so. I sure hope so." Jack spoke with clenched teeth now, his fingers clasped around chunky controls. Mike wanted to go to him, but instead sat down out of the way. It was probably the best that he could do.
"Can you outmanoeuvre them?"
"Yeah. In theory." The ship rocked violently, and he cursed. "Possibly."
"They're firing at us?" That at least was something in which Mike had experience. "I could fire back?"
"No point. It'd be like sending a wasp after a whale. Actually it'd be like sending a microscopic wasp after a whale. Just hold on." Another volley of alien gunfire hit them, or something close by. The ship bucked furiously. "Tight. Hold on real tight."
"I am!" There was more bucking, more rocking. Mike felt the ship's engines hum beneath him, around him, felt the peculiar sensation of sudden, fast manoeuvring up and down and around. The front screen showed him a spinning image of space, and he thought that he saw the Earth - a blurred blue speck in the distance. It could almost have been anything. He was glad that it was safe now, even if he was not. It was nice to know that all those millions of people would never even find out how close they had come to the end. Strangely he felt no particular regret that he was not amongst them. The realisation worried him, but he put it aside. Even if he truly did put no great value upon his own life now, there was still someone else who was determined to save them both.
"You alright back there?" Jack's voice sounded oddly strained. Mike could see that he was fighting hard with the controls. A female voice was shouting warnings about damage caused by the weapons discharge both inside and outside the ship, but Jack ignored her. A computer, Mike assumed. Oddly, Jack took a moment to give a console beside him a friendly pat; a gesture of affection almost. A thanks for the information, for the warnings, or an apology for the fact that he was not listening to them? Mike nodded slowly, though he knew that Jack was not looking his way.
"I'm fine. I think." It seemed an odd time to be asked. Jack's hands were whitening at the knuckles as he gripped the controls. His shoulders were set firm as though bearing some great weight, and whenever he removed one hand to tap at other buttons, other switches, the ship wobbled badly. "You?"
"Hey, I'm always fine. Trust me?"
"I--" For some reason that seemed like an ominous question. "I suppose so. I don't suppose that I have a lot of choice."
"Right now, no." For a moment Jack took both his hands off the flight controls, attacking a row of switches with a furious energy. The female voice chided him, and he gave a low laugh. "You heard the man, computer. He trusts me. Prepare for a time jump."
"A time jump!" Mike started to get to his feet, but Jack put the ship into a sudden dive to avoid a shot from behind. The former UNIT captain sat down again, quickly. "Jack, we--"
"We have to get out of here, and Time is our best escape route. The computer has a focus on this point. It'll be a quick hop back when the coast is likely to be clear." Jack fell silent for a few moments, returning his attention to his flying. "I can't think of anything else, Mike. They won't be able to track us if we go backwards or forwards in time. There's a good chance that it'll fox them completely. Like I said - thugs. No finesse." He shrugged. "I hope."
"I hope you know what you're doing." Mike held on tighter than before. At his feet, the Master rolled about as a tremor ran through the ship. He didn't rouse. Mike was rather glad about that. One more alien shooting at them was the last thing they needed right now.
"Preparing for time jump," announced the computer. Jack tensed slightly, his eyes seemingly everywhere at once. Mike tried to see what he was looking at, and work out what all of the readings meant, but couldn't begin to understand. "Jumping in ten seconds."
"It can't be sooner!" Jack was clearly watching something that unnerved him. Mike took a glance out of one of the screens, and saw a streak of white light coming their way. Some kind of missile, undoubtedly. He got the impression that dodging this one was not a possibility.
"Seven seconds," answered the computer, unmoved by Jack's question. "Six."
"That thing's gonna hit us in six seconds! You better have got your sums right, computer." Jack flicked a couple of switches, looking rather more hopeful than certain. Again the computer showed no reaction to his comment.
"Four. Three."
"Three seconds to impact." Jack drew a deep breath. "Ready, Mike?" But before Mike could even think of answering, the computer's countdown reached zero, lights blazed, everything shifted. He felt, for one brief moment, as though he were flying without a ship around him, through a tunnel of light and colour. Then everything was back to normal again, and all was still.
xxxxxxxxxx
With a sigh of relief, and a grin that seemed bigger than any Mike had yet seen, Jack pushed himself to his feet and stepped out of the control cabin. He gave one of the consoles a brief pat as he went, then turned the grin fully onto Mike.
"Okay?"
"Feels like it." Mike also stood up. There were no more tremors from the ship; no more buffeting from laser fire; no more worrying noises from all around. "We made the jump?"
"Yep." Triumph, merriment and pure, unadulterated cockiness shone in Jack's eyes. For some reason it was rather endearing. "We're three thousand years in your past. How does it feel?"
"Not remotely different." Mike laughed shortly. "Sorry. Then we won?"
"I don't see me ceasing to exist, do you? We won. Congratulations."
"Me? I didn't do anything."
"Sure you did. And anyway, I probably wouldn't have got involved if it hadn't been for you." Jack smiled contentedly. "So now we get to relax for a bit. Until the next crisis."
"Relax." It certainly sounded inviting. "I can live with that. But in case it had escaped your notice, we're in 1000BC. What exactly happens now?"
"Now? We're safe, we're heading back into Earth's orbit, the enemy doesn't know where we are, and doesn't begin to know where to look... the universe is ours. Or this bit of it is, anyway. We can do what whatever you want."
"In that case, taking it easy has a definite appeal." Mike went towards the main viewscreen, watching space zipping past them at what seemed a terrific rate. "Shouldn't you be flying?"
"The computer has control. We're safe enough now." Earth loomed before them, looking just as it had when they had left it. Three thousand years clearly meant little in space. "Now all we need to do is pick a point say a day after we left, and head for it. The Tragovians should have given up by then. Simple."
"Not really, no. At least, not to my technology." Mike stared at the planet on the screen. Three thousand years. Even the Romans were nobodies as yet. Jack slapped him on the back.
"Don't think about it too much. That's half your problem, you know. You need to learn how to relax more. Loosen up."
"And how exactly does one 'loosen up' out in space?" He meant it as a joke, but Jack just flashed him another of those dangerously amiable grins.
"How about we go up on the roof?"
"It's a spaceship, Jack. We go up on the roof and we die."
"Well yeah, we would - if I hadn't enclosed us in a forcefield. It'll only last half an hour or so, but that's long enough to go upstairs and admire the view. The gravity will hold that close to the hull."
"Seriously?" It sounded inviting, he had to admit. Jack just grinned, and with the flick of a switch, opened a hatch. Steps unfolded downwards from above them.
"Come on." Suddenly all restless activity, he swung up the steps and disappeared from view. Mike climbed after him more slowly, a little wary of what he was getting into. He had never walked on the roof of a spaceship before, and a part of him did not feel entirely safe.
"You waiting for something?" Jack was standing several feet away; an intentionally dramatic silhouette, highlighted by the corona of the rising sun. He was holding a hip flask, and had contrived to produce a pair of glasses from somewhere. Mike didn't have a clue where, and as he climbed up onto the back of the ship, didn't think to ask.
"It's incredible." The Earth lay in front of them; a mighty vista of blue, green and white, darkened by the arc of the vast sun that was just rising in its - now meaningless - east. Jack gave a low laugh.
"For the rest of time, poets will be trying to come up with a decent description of this view. I guess yours works just as well. Here." He handed over a glass, half-filled with what looked like brandy. Mike took a sip, and found that it was something he had never tasted before. Alien probably. He rather liked that idea.
"I never fully realised that the Earth was so beautiful. Everybody says that it is, but it's not always easy to appreciate the fact when you're standing on it."
"All planets are beautiful. Gas giants, little dead ice worlds - all of them. Especially when their suns are just coming up. I prefer them from space, though. You get a better perspective."
"And an easier escape route."
"Yep." Jack flashed him a grin and sat down on the ship. Mike followed suit. "I'd have thought that an old hand like you would have seen this view before. I thought UNIT were experts in all things extra-terrestrial?"
"It's the seventies, Jack. We've hardly done anything yet. Or... just at the moment it's not the seventies, but you know what I mean." He smiled, once again feeling oddly inadequate next to the man who had done it all. "I've been to other worlds, yes. A friend has a spaceship, and I've been here and there. I've never had the opportunity to see the Earth from space, though."
"A friend with a spaceship?" There was a teasing hint in Jack's voice. "Should I be jealous?"
"Hardly." Mike had to laugh. "He's hundreds of years old, and definitely not interested in inconsequential army captains. Ex-army captains. Besides, that would be illegal."
"What would?" Jack stretched out beside him, a picture of luxurious repose. "Don't tell me they've got laws on human/alien relations? That's kinda jumping the gun for the twentieth century." Mike shot him a sardonic look. "What?"
"I don't mean that. I mean that the army has certain laws that forbid... never mind. Even if I was interested, which I'm not."
"Well don't let the age gap worry you. If you want to get technical, you're three thousand years older than I am, and I'm not letting it discourage me." Jack reached out with his glass, chinking it against Mike's. "Cheers."
"Three thousand years." It was almost unthinkable - but then all of it was. Here he was, sitting on the back of an alien spaceship, miles above the Earth, watching the sun rise in the company of a man who hadn't been born. And that was without even taking into consideration the fact that he himself hadn't been born yet either. Expect The Unexpected, they said in UNIT. Well, there was certainly nothing like taking the company motto to its limit. "That's a hell of a long time, Jack."
"No it's not. I've got all of time and space - what's three thousand years?" The American reached out suddenly with his free hand, taking Mike's in his. "Come with me, Mike. I can find you a planet millions of light years away. Or a place on Earth hundreds of years in your future. Nobody will ever know you, or whatever the hell it was that you did. You can leave all of that behind."
"But that's the thing, isn't it." He wasn't sure quite why it was so much easier to think out here, in all of this vastness, with a glass of alien alcohol in his hand - but it was. "I don't want to run away. I messed up, and I have to face that down there, not out here somewhere. There are people that I have to see again, and things that I have to say. Things that I have to prove. I could stay here now, in my past. But what would that achieve?"
"If you've got something to prove, it's to yourself, not to the people who kicked you out of the army. Forget them."
"No. No, I can't do that. I don't care if my future is in my own time, or in doing what you did, and running off in somebody else's spaceship. But it begins on Earth. It begins with me, down there, back in the time that I came from. I appreciate what you've done, Jack. More than you know. But I have to face up to some things on my own. Get my life down there back in order, before I can even think about what comes next."
"You're an annoyingly level-headed sort, aren't you." Jack didn't sound annoyed, though. Just amused, and greatly relaxed. Mike glanced over at him, sprawled beside him, staring up at what should have been the sky. The Earth hung there instead now, shifted by its own orbit as well as by theirs. Mike wasn't sure if he was upside down, or if the Earth was, or why he was still thinking in terms of the usual dimensions anyway. The entire universe was spinning, and none of the usual certainties seemed to mean much anymore. If this was space travel, it definitely had a unique appeal.
"Right now I don't feel terribly level-headed, I'm afraid."
"That's the Harkness Effect." Jack grinned at him. "I should come with my own health warning. In fact, I think I've been declared a lethal weapon on at least two worlds."
"Idiot."
"You're sitting on the back of a spaceship, with nothing but a thin film of energy between you and infinity, and I'm the idiot?"
"With nobody down there watching the psychopath who's alone with the controls, we're both pretty idiotic." Mike groaned, surprised at how unwilling he was to do anything about that. "We should go back down."
"The Master is out for the count. That thing I zapped him with would keep an Ogron unconscious for several hours. He's not your problem anymore."
"You're planning on keeping him around as an ornament?"
"No. If you think your lot can deprogram those scientists without him, I thought I'd take him back to his homeworld. Is he really a Time Lord?"
"Yes. Or so I'm told. Do you know where their planet is?"
"No, not exactly. It's somewhere a long way away, I know that. But I'll find it." He frowned. "Actually I think they're at war with the race who built this ship, so I might have to be a little sneaky about getting there. But how hard can it be, right?"
"Aside from the obvious bit where you get blown to smithereens by some highly advanced early warning system?"
"Aside from that, yeah." Jack was grinning. "Maybe I'll just dump him somewhere else, huh. And you're sure you don't want to come along?"
"I can't." He was as sure of that as he had ever been of anything. "There are things I have to face up to, Jack. Things I have to sort out. Myself, everything else ... I don't know. There are answers I need to a whole lot of questions. No offence, but you're not exactly what I need right now."
"Point taken." He didn't seem offended. Mike got the impression that there was little that could hurt Jack Harkness. The hand that had been holding his had migrated upwards, and he felt the other man's arm drape itself around his shoulders. His first instinct was to shrug it off, but he didn't. If you couldn't let loose just a little when you were floating unfettered in space, when could you? Instead, to his surprise, he relaxed a little in the semi-embrace.
"Jack?"
"Yeah?"
"What is this that we're drinking, anyway?"
"Braxian flower brandy. Or at least, that's what humans call it. The real name is unpronounceable unless you have a double-jointed tongue at least six inches long."
"Okay..."
"Nice, isn't it. Two glasses and you're anybody's."
"If I didn't know better, I'd think that you were trying to seduce me."
"No." This time Jack's smile was stripped to the basics; as warm and as open a smile as Mike had seen in years. "Two glasses and it's no fun. Removes the element of choice. Anyway, I've warned you now, and you've haven't even finished your first glass. Some seducer I'd make."
"Right now I don't think I'd object if you did pour me a second glass."
"Scares you, doesn't it."
"Maybe." But the Earth was so beautiful, and so far away, and out here there truly was nobody to see or judge anything that he did. The feeling of liberation was quite extraordinary. "How long until the forcefield collapses?"
"We've got a while yet. Relax. Enjoy the view."
"I plan to. And what happens then?"
"Ideally we're back inside before the field collapses. Otherwise it could be unpleasant."
"I mean, what happens with you then. You drop me off back in my own time, and then what? You leave?"
"Yeah. I've got a dangerous cargo, and I ought to dump him off somewhere. No offence, but I'm not sure I trust your prison system."
"It didn't do much good the last time we captured him, no. So in an hour or so you'll be back out in space, heading for some other planet."
"That's the plan. Afraid our date will have to take a raincheck, with Fred below decks to consider."
"It wasn't going to be a date." Not down there, not where there were other people. Up here was different. Maybe that was another of the things that he had to work out about himself.
"Pick a star, don't look back." Jack barely noticed his protestation. He was describing his life with obvious relish. "Love them and leave them, that's me. I'm not the good guy, Mike. You are."
"I was." He laughed briefly. "Seems like a long time ago now. Another life. All those rules and regulations, all that order. Never sure that it agreed with me really."
"Then look for something new. I'm good at that kind of thing myself as it happens. New experiences, new frontiers, new awakenings. If you like, I could give you a little tuition."
"Oh yes?" The world floated by. The sun rose somewhere. Space spun in an irregular circle, and all of up and down and back and front meant nothing at all. Everything was new. It was heady and weird and spectacular, and Mike's reason didn't seem to be where he had left it. It was a wonderful feeling. He had no objection to it lasting a little longer yet. Jack laughed softly.
"Personal tuition always was a particular interest of mine. Just relax, Mike. There's a whole different set of rules out here."
"Good." He was relaxing, for the first time in a long time. Relaxing into this sense of total, wonderful unfamiliarity. Total freedom. "That's just what I'm counting on."
And space, and time, and everything spun lazily on.
THE END