Chapter Three


The Dolesh wasn't dead, not yet, and in that Jack found some hope. He came around, huge and hungry, a few hours after Jack did. "Where is this?"

"I wish I knew. You don't recognise the place?"

The Dolesh looked around them in the low light, blinking reptilian eyes until the pupils were dilated fully. "No."

"Damn."

"Are there others?"

"Nobody I've seen." Jack scraped his memories, but he'd been right up at the podium reaching for the time machine, which was now nowhere to be seen. He had no idea who else might have been taken when the other device went off. "The device. The one you were reaching for. What was it?"

"Nothing. A family heirloom. Sentimental value."

Jack sighed.


Ianto traced what communications he could. His translator only made sporadic sense of the insectoid's native language, leaving him to guess at the gaps. But if the Doleshi had Jack, or knew where he was, Ianto had to follow.

He readied the ship, forcing himself to go through the pre-flight list one item at a time. He'd hurt the engines enough. Getting them stranded in the middle of nowhere because of his haste wouldn't help Jack. As he let the engines warm up properly, he filed an impromptu flight plan with the Dock Master.

"Transport Celes Tirra, do not launch." The Dock Master's voice was staticky but firm. "Clearance denied."

"Celes Tirra to dock. Why not? The flight path is clear."

"Negative. Do not launch."

As he listened to the other transmissions, and watched the tracker on his screen, he saw the insectoid's ship getting further and further away. "Celes Tirra launching," he said. And then he added, "Sorry. By the by, you should tell base security the Marnites on Level Four are running a drugs den, and they may be endangering their offspring."

He broke the clamps on the docking ring, feeling the metal give way in a groan that shook the ship. That would be a repair job for later, assuming he survived this.

Then he remembered, and he let out a short laugh. One less thing to worry about. Ianto would be safe until he came to Planet Chylla.

He guided the ship away from the base, ignoring the shouts from the Dock Master over the speakers. Jack could do this with his eyes closed, and put a nice waggle on the wings for show. Ianto was pleased to make it out without being shot at.

The cockpit door slid open. Steven staggered in, hair sodden, grasping for handholds on the bulkhead. "What the hell?"

"We're following a lead." He set the flight path to match Madame Kikikika's ship, hanging back enough that, with luck, the other ship's sensors wouldn't notice. What would Jack do? Ianto plugged in a program Jack had written that mimicked the more erratic flight pattern of space junk. It was hell on their fuel economy, but served as an easy disguise when they didn't want to be seen.

"Madame Kikikika just took off," he explained, as Steven sat in the other seat. "Scuttlebutt says she's going after the Doleshi."

"Because she thinks they did it?"

"That's my guess. It's all we've got." Ianto turned back to his sensors. "The trick is going to be getting to them before she does. If this is her play for vengeance, she'll shoot first."

"Not that I like the idea, but if they kill him, he will get over it."

"Your machine might be destroyed. You'd never get home." He made a final check to their course, then turned in his chair. "I'd rather you not live out your days hiding from him just to protect the timeline." Ianto had almost gone that route himself, once.

"Thanks."

"Thank me when we've got Jack and your time machine both safe."


Being held in chains presented problems with which Jack was too well acquainted. The muscle and joint strains were old friends, if the kind of old friend who liked to kick him in the shins whenever they met. The near impossibility of sleep was another familiarity, though he functioned without it. Even the boredom was typical. He'd tried to chat up his lethargic companion, who had started whimpering in pain an hour ago.

Jack felt bad for him, but what could he do? Tell the Dolesh, "Sorry, buddy, it's going to hurt, and it's going to keep hurting until your muscles turn to ice, and then to pins and needles, and finally every movement you make, no matter how small, is going to be pure agony, and there's nothing you can do about it"? What would be the point?

Worse than the pain, he was going to pee himself any minute now. Jack hated peeing himself, though not as much as soiling himself, which was also on the horizon the longer he stayed locked up. Imprisonment could be pretty damn disgusting, as well as painful.

He tested the chain again. Solid. There was some give at the manacles on his wrists. He could break his hands and be free to remain stuck in a locked cell.

The Dolesh whined again. Poor guy.

Jack counted inside his head, ignoring his headache. He went to five hundred, and then a thousand, using his heartbeat as a measure. No captors, no rescuers, full bladder.

"Pal, I'm going to try to get free. This might be gross."

The pins and needles turned to fire as Jack flexed his arms and the sharp metal of the manacles dug into his hands. He grunted so he didn't scream as the flesh tore. He squeezed the thick part of his palm against the metal, pulling and tugging as he bled. Pain roared down his right arm as something broke and his hand slipped out of the manacle. His left was still held, hurting and bleeding, and Jack gave a loud growl as he put his full weight into it, ripping his hand free in one agonizing motion. He fell to the stone floor clutching his hands to himself, afraid to look in case the left was just a stump. After a few minutes, the painful tingle of nerves regrowing made him chance a quick peek. He'd pulled off a thick chunk of flesh, partially degloving the hand. Aching, Jack nudged the skin back into place as best he could with his broken right hand. He'd heal.

The Dolesh had stopped yelling, and stared at him in horror.

Jack managed a painful grimace. "Don't try that at home, okay, pal?"

At least he no longer had to pee.


His biggest worry had been a ship-to-ship battle, but as the other vessel neared its destination, Ianto relaxed. They were approaching a planet in a system he and Jack had never visited, but had passed by on runs. If the Doleshi had a head start and had gone to ground here, Ianto and Steven could track them down and rescue Jack.

"Do you have any Argelite laser rifles?"

Ianto pulled out the knapsacks and began digging. "No."

"What about short-range stun grenades?"

"No."

"Do you at least have a biotracking scanner we can set to look for a human?"

"We do."

"Good."

"It's broken." They'd been meaning to get that repaired. Spilt milk. Ianto packed three compact pistols in each bag, along with extra charges. He grabbed one of the phase shifters in case they needed to break into someplace. He could have used that lockpick now, and took a breath to curse the thief again.

"All right." Steven rested against the bulkhead, watching Ianto. "What's the plan?"

"We follow them to their quarry. We get in there first. We rescue Jack. If we can find your time machine, we take that too. Then we run away. It would help if you had a means to track your time machine, but as you haven't volunteered one, I'll assume you don't."

Steven chewed his lip. "There's a way."

Anger rumbled in Ianto's stomach. "You should have said."

"I couldn't before. He would have asked how I knew. Where does he keep his Vortex Manipulator?"

"We put it away." Some places were dangerous for ex-Time Agents.

"His VM can monitor temporal fluctuations. If we're close by, I should be able to pinpoint the time machine." Steven rubbed the back of his neck in a gesture Ianto knew well. "I watched him set it up when I first started travelling. So he could always find me, and I could always make it home."

"Wait here."

Ianto went back to his and Jack's cabin, locking the door. The safe was bolted to the wall and floor, and the combination was the punchline to a joke only the two of them would ever understand. The well-oiled hinges opened at the top. They kept spare ID in here, names they needed official documentation for in some systems. Bank records for Jack's lesser-known accounts lay beside the papers for the Foundation, with the little book Ianto kept to track how much they'd added to its coffers. The few surviving photographs Jack had retrieved from the ruins of their home lay wrapped in protective sheets: a snap of his last wife, images of two children Ianto had never met, one of Alice resting her head on Jenny's shoulder. Ianto had no photos. His clearest memories of Rhiannon were from her teens, and some days he couldn't picture her children at all. He'd tried to draw Lisa once, but his artistic talents weren't up to capturing her eyes, her smile, and he had to settle for keeping her sharp in his thoughts.

Amongst the photographs, he found their marriage licence. This was handwritten on real, cream-coloured paper, and yielded up a woodpulp smell when Ianto brought the form close to his face.

They hadn't planned to get married, wouldn't have bothered had they not been stuck for a fortnight during a radiation storm preventing any ships from leaving. Bored and tooling around the small town nearest the spaceport, Jack had spied a sign advertising weddings. He'd nudged Ianto and asked, "Hey. Wanna do that? Might be fun."

Ianto hadn't caught on at first. "Why would we go watch people get married?" Before Jack could correct him, he'd gone further with that thought process. "Unless they get naked here for the weddings, and honestly you've seen enough naked aliens this week."

Jack's face had broken into a tender smile. "Try again."

Ianto had scowled and reread the sign, and the back of his brain, which had been paying closer attention than the rest of him, kicked him hard in the mental groin.

Ianto had used his real name. Jack had forgotten his own birth name, but said he always thought of himself as "Jack Harkness" around Ianto, no matter what pseudonym he was using at the time. The wedding had lasted fifteen minutes, most of which was taken up by the officiant's hazy recollections of human gods to invoke for the ceremony, none of whom Ianto had ever heard of. The rest was a walk-through of local marital expectations, which they both ignored in favour of mouthing their own quiet vows: you are mine and I am yours, and I will love you for as long as I live.

Jack's wrist strap was under the licence, wrapped in tissue. Ianto put the rest back into the safe, locked it, and brought the strap to Steven.

"If he sees what you've done, he'll be onto you."

"I'll be careful." Steven opened the strap with ease, and began making modifications Ianto couldn't see. "You know, if this thing worked properly, I could just go."

For a second, Ianto thought that was precisely what would happen: someone pretending to be Jack's grandson had tricked Ianto into handing over the VM, and he would be gone in a flash. Steven's mouth quirked, as if reading his thoughts. "I wouldn't, you know. For one thing, he still has this when I'm a kid, and the Doctor gets very cross when we cause paradoxes. There. Better than a compass." He held up the strap for inspection. A small directional beacon beeped with a blue light.

The atmosphere on this world was low-oxygen. Ianto dug out the masks, and packed an extra for Jack. As soon as the ship was safely landed and cloaked, they began their journey on foot through the bitterly grey and rocky landscape. Steven led the way, helping Ianto climb over rock falls and past debris from some geological catastrophe long in the planet's history. The planet's rotation would leave this part of the world in dim twilight for days, making each step more treacherous even with the small torches they'd brought.

"This place isn't very hospitable," said Steven, as they rested for a moment beside a huge, cracked boulder, blood red minerals shocking amidst the grey. "Why would anyone settle here?"

In the distance, Ianto could make out artificial lights. Their goal wasn't far now. "Hide-out. Not many curious visitors to come calling."

"Ah."

Ianto took a deep breath through his mask, then returned to the hike. "Where will you go after this?"

"Actually, I was on my way to visit Granddad in a different time."

"You were?"

Steven nodded. "He gets lonely. The older he is, the faster he loses people. On the rare occasions he gets to see someone from his early days, he gets this smile like the universe is unfolding just for him, and he's so happy. I try to go see him when I can, just for that smile. Some people visit their grandparents on the weekends, I pop a few billion years into the future. I bring him trinkets to occupy his mind. He has a lot of time to think."

Ianto remembered Steven's cover story. "The game. You came back here to find one for Jack."

"Yeah. He loves puzzles and games."

"I know."

"It's weird going from one fact to another. For me, it's only a few minutes, but for him it could be millions of years."

"But he still knows who you are." It was half-question, half-wonder.

"Mum too. And the Doctor." Steven ticked off on his hands. "I've met four different versions so far."

Ianto had met two, and did not anticipate a third coming into his life. Jack of course would likely meet them all, eventually. Something had been plaguing Ianto about this whole situation, and he finally put on a finger on the problem. "Why do you travel? If you have everything you want in your time, why on Earth do you go gallivanting off through space and time? I don't believe it's solely to visit Jack."

"It's not." They climbed carefully across a rocky chasm, holding on to one another for support. The return trip would be difficult if Jack was injured. When they were past the obstacle, Steven said, "I work for him. Odd jobs. He has to be careful about crossing his own timeline. I don't have that problem."

Ianto pictured the "odd jobs" a much older Jack might have for Steven to do with a working time machine and Jack's unique knowledge of history. He'd ensure Steven possessed a detailed summary of places to go, or to avoid, whilst making the most delicate of changes.

Silence fell between them, save for the occasional crumble-thump of a bad step over the rocks. Ahead of them, Ianto could see lights flashing, but he heard no sounds of weapons fire. The insectoid must have come into the area by now, but hadn't yet attacked. All he could hope was that her presence provided enough of a cover that the Doleshi wouldn't notice the two new guests crawling into their territory.


Jack's hands healed painfully but cleanly. He managed to find a loose metal filing on the cold floor of the cell, and used it to pick the manacles holding his cellmate.

"Gratitude," said the Dolesh when Jack finished.

"You're welcome. Now, pay me back by helping me break out of here."

The cell door was metal and locked, with no keyholes on this side of the door. That said electronic or two-person, and neither was helpful. They had one ventilation duct in the room, the diameter of a man's fist, on the ceiling. Still no food or water. "How often does your species eat?"

"Every six turns."

Jack's internal clock said they'd been here at least that long, probably longer. "Mine too." He hoped they weren't being left to starve on purpose, to dine on each other. For one thing, if the Dolesh had picked up on his little trick, Jack could serve as an all-you-can-eat buffet for the rest of time.

"Check your pockets. See if you have anything we can use to get out of here." Jack indicated his own miniskirt. "I'm not going to be much help, as you can see." He'd checked for his hidden weapons holster, but it was long gone.


Guards patrolled the near perimeter, hired help like the Altans used. Even they were paying closer attention to what was going on inside the compound than anyone who might be sneaking around outside. Ianto kept to the shadows while he moved into position to see what was happening.

"That's her ship," he said. The outer hull was as iridescent as a carapace under the harsh floodlights, thrusters and weapons protruding around the rim like legs.

"Why did she land? If she's just here for revenge, she should have attacked."

Ianto watched the movement of figures beneath them. The outer guards were little better than hired thugs. The guards patrolling the area around the ship were insects. "This isn't the Doleshi hide-out. It's hers."

"Madame Kikikika? I don't get it. She won the item she wanted. She's rich. Why would she kidnap Jack?"

"I don't know." He'd met more than his share of rich beings who'd become that way due to past crimes. Madame Kikikika's presence at the auction suggested she wasn't averse to the idea of shady dealings. Ianto sat back against a rock and tried to think. "Who else was missing, other than Jack?"

"One of the Doleshi. The auctioneer. One of the auctioneer's guards."

Ianto observed the insect guards. While they kept to a pattern, the guards in the shiniest uniforms kept close watch on their handheld scanners. More than one cast glances up, heads curiously twisted on their spiny necks as they watched the skies.

"Work this through with me." Ianto kept himself to a whisper. "Suppose you knew there was a black market auction coming up with an item you really, really wanted. You could win it at the auction, but if you stole it, plus the other artefacts for sale, plus whatever the previous attendees had already paid, then you'd guarantee that you left with what you wanted, plus a tidy profit. Pay off the auctioneer to arrange an emergency transmat among the devices, and have him and his assistant bring everything to you."

Steven shook his head. "She lost a man in the fight."

"Every plan has casualties." He and Steven had both been casualties to bad plans. "Maybe the fight wasn't planned, and the auctioneer engaged the transmat before any of the loot could be stolen. They never intended to take Jack or the Dolesh, they were just in the way when the plan went off."

Steven thought it over. "Maybe."

"Keep it in your head. We don't know for certain, and if we're lucky, we won't have to care. We'll stick to our plan: find your time machine, find Jack, get out."

"I'll track my time machine. You find him."

Neither of them asked what would happen if Jack wasn't there. If the situation was as Ianto suspected, the brightest thing for the conspirators to do would mean airlocking the extra hostages. No witnesses. Jack might be floating in vacuum right now, unable to call for help, a tiny piece of flotsam in a vast expanse. Ianto could scour the area between here and the base for years and never find him.

"Meet back at the ship in three hours."

Steven nodded, then crawled over the rocks to another hiding place, and was gone. Ianto waited. When he saw a gap in the outer ring of guards, he let himself through, and waited for another gap to open in the inner ring. He made it to the wall of the citadel without being seen, and he hoped Steven had been as lucky.

The phase shifter always made him feel like his stomach was trying to climb out through his feet. He used it to get inside the building, emerging inside a small, dark room that appeared to be unoccupied.

He gave himself a moment to adjust, to take deep breaths through his oxygen mask.

Think. How could he find where the prisoners were bring kept? He was in a strange building, lurking around a species whose language he didn't speak, and Steven had the universal translator in Jack's VM. Eavesdropping would be pointless, so he had to rely on logic. Prisoners tended to be kept low or high. His gut said low, buried in a dungeon rather than locked in a tower. The phase shifter would take him to lower levels, if he was very careful and trusted there was a room under his feet.

"Stairs it is," he said quietly, and let himself out of the room.


The door to the cell opened. Jack wasn't prepared, but preparation wouldn't have helped. The Dolesh stood as an insectoid woman in fine purple robes was escorted in by guards. Behind her, the Pelloid who'd been serving as the auctioneer last night, or whenever it had been, scuttled into the cell.

"They live, as I told you," said the Pelloid.

"That may be to our benefit. His people are searching for him."

Jack grinned. He'd known Ianto wouldn't be long. "Yeah, and you'd better hand me over before he gets really mad."

The insectoid turned to Jack, annoyance radiating from her. "What species is this one?"

"I believe they are called humans. It was at the auction."

"Yes." She clicked her mandibles. "Its mate offered me money for its return, but did not name a price and already had a secondary mate."

That sounded wrong to Jack's ears. Ianto had tried to bribe her to get him back? The "secondary mate" had to be Bob, and while Jack was sure Bob didn't have designs on mating with Ianto, Jack didn't like him any better for the rumour.

His confusion was cut short when the insectoid turned away, saying, "Kill them. Suffocation should suffice. Plant the bodies where the Doleshi will find them."

The Pelloid bowed and nodded. "Yes, Madame."

She twisted her head around. "I was not speaking to you." She nodded to the guards, who drew their weapons on the auctioneer.

"But Madame!"

"You are surplus to my needs." She left the cell, locking the auctioneer in with Jack and the Dolesh. The auctioneer pounded his fists on the closed door.

"Fantastic," Jack said. "Welcome to the party."

From above them, air began to hiss. Given the size of the ventilation duct and the room, they had maybe an hour left. Jack didn't like suffocating, but he'd died in worse ways. He was already light-headed, and as he thought back, he'd been light-headed for awhile. "Ah, damn." Low oxygen atmosphere. He revised his estimate of their lifespans.

He looked at the Dolesh. He still didn't know the guy's name. "I'm Twil. What's your family name?"

"Charnok."

He nodded. If he made his way back to the Dolesh's people, he could speak to the family. "It's going to hurt a little, when you start noticing the air is gone. You're going to gasp, but it won't last long. By that point, our brains will already be too oxygen-starved to care. It's not painful after that. I promise."

Charnok sat down on the cold floor. "My people are coming for me."

"Yeah. And they're going to find you too late. Sorry."

"She needs to let me go," said the auctioneer. "I helped her!" Jack patted him on the shoulder. He'd been duped by partners before, too. The Pelloid's face crumpled as he sat down despondently beside Charnok.

Charnok placed a big hand on the Pelloid's head and snapped his neck. As the cooling body toppled to the side like a sack of grain, Charnok said, "Now we will live a little longer."


tbc