LOVE

ELEVEN

As Jack Harkness regained consciousness he did a quick inventory of his mental and physical condition. As far as he could tell, he was still all right. There was no ambiguity or confusion clouding his mind as to the situation he was in; his thoughts were clear and cold and sharp as ever.

Oh yes, the Captain knew precisely what was going on – he was being killed repeatedly and the situation was becoming monotonous if not downright exhausting. The deaths had been varied and for the most part violent. There had also been a somewhat prurient aspect to them, which perhaps under normal circumstances might've been intriguing. But these were not normal circumstances…

He opened his eyes and checked his bonds; they were as secure as ever. No surprise there. "Iserliss, Vatia," he growled, "haven't you had enough yet?"

"Oh dear boy, never," the doctor – the other doctor – responded matter-of-factly. "You really are quite a find and we've only just begun."

Jack shivered involuntarily. "You know, I may not have unlimited rejuvenations. It is possible you'll eventually really kill me. I'm not saying that by doing so you won't be doing me a huge favor, but I can't guarantee that I'll last forever."

"I don't think you have to worry, my good Captain Harkness. From what we've learned about you so far, I believe your capabilities may indeed fall into the realm of the infinite."

"Oh goody for me," Jack muttered under his breath. He glared at the two people who stood before him.

When he'd first been brought into the presence of Iserliss he could easily see why some might have found the man unpalatable. It wasn't that the physician looked totally bizarre – in fact quite the opposite. The bioreconstruction was miraculous – on the surface Iserliss appeared totally normal. Except, that is, for his eyes. His eyes were clearly not organic and there had been no attempt made to hide that fact. They were unusually large, mirror-like orbs covered by a rheumy sort of oil slick-like surface which at times dripped or spread onto his lashes and eyelids. Those eyes shined with a strange, ungodly internal light; the metallic-like goop that constantly seemed to coat and leak from them produced a sodden, almost tearful appearance – that is if tears were composed of mercury. For some reason the sight made Jack feel like sneezing.

So, no doubt about it the physician's eyes were indeed freaky, but as Jack eventually discovered in-between assorted deaths, there were other less obvious but equally if not even more nauseating strangenesses. No matter what he was talking about, the doctor's voice had a dreary monotone quality to it. The Captain supposed there were people who might perceive that flatness as calming, maybe even comforting, but the lack of any vocal inflection whatsoever creeped Jack out big-time.

And then there was the way Iserliss moved. Mobility was the irrefutable evidence that the man was largely reconstructed, despite his mostly normal outward appearance. Jack couldn't quite put his finger on it, but Iserliss moved like nothing he'd ever seen before – at least nothing alive he'd ever seen before. The physician's movements were too quiet, too smooth, too effortless. It actually took Jack a few minutes to realize that Iserliss made absolutely no sounds – no breath noises, no footsteps, no nothing, except for the sound of his voice when he spoke. The stealthiness was disconcerting, to say the least.

At first the entire situation seemed kind of funny and Jack had laughed inwardly; he'd unexpectedly found himself in the presence of Victor Frankenstein and Igor, except in this particular case Frankenstein was the grotesque ogre, and Igor the attractive human. And no doubt about it – Vatia was extremely attractive. The irony was not lost on the Captain that apparently in this warped tale of horror he was the monster being experimented upon.

"Care to share what you've learned so far?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow.

Iserliss shook his head. "It is far too early in our research to start talking about results. As I already explained, we've only just started here. You're a complicated thing, Captain Harkness."

Jack smiled, "I've heard that before."

"But you are. I've never encountered or even heard rumors about anything like you. And let me tell you, Vatia and I have seen a lot in our time together." The physician reached out and extended a hand to his lovely associate. She accepted it warmly.

"Yeah," Jack narrowed his eyes and scowled at the unsavory display of affection, "I should've seen that coming. But I'm still wondering what a beautiful woman like you sees in a revolting piece of work like him."

"Then you know nothing of love," Vatia responded.

"Oh, I know plenty about love. I know so much about love that I also know there's something else going on here. There's got to be."

"A fruitless, uninteresting, banal topic of discussion," Iserliss interrupted. "Perhaps it is time to resume our work?"

"Yeah, about that," the Captain said. "When my friend The Doc – uh, Theta Sigma, gets back, he's not going to be very happy to find me trussed up like a pot roast, being exposed to frequent and incessant killings." Jack shook his head, "No, he'll take a dim view of it indeed."

Iserliss clicked his tongue several times. It sounded frigid, mechanical, heartless. "You needn't keep up the deception, my dear boy. We know full well who your charming companion is. We knew it from the moment the two of you arrived on this planet, in that wonderful time-traveling ship of his. You see, nothing gets by us on this world, nothing escapes our attention – certainly not the arrival of Ka Faraq Gatri – it's why we chose to make Miri our home in the first place. We are indeed honored to be visited by Karshtakavaar, the Oncoming Storm, but we have no intention of encountering him again, even though it has been ages – lifetimes – since we last laid our eyes upon him. While what The Doctor, he of the multiple regenerations, has to offer is intriguing, it is not as nearly as intriguing as true immortality because even a Time Lord can and will die. Yes, it is indeed possible. We know it, we have proof of it. We have witnessed it. We have witnessed Time Lord death and it is quite extraordinary. But you – you Captain Jack Harkness are an impossible thing that we have not witnessed previously, nor even believed achievable."

Again Jack smiled, but the smile did not reach his eyes, "And I've heard that before too."

"Vatia, my love?" the physician turned to his partner and Jack thought briefly he'd never heard such a warm term of endearment spoken so coldly. But that's all he had time to think about as the woman picked up what looked like a small aerosol can and sprayed something that smelled strange, and yet on the edge of familiar, in the air above the Captain's head.

Then she removed from a cabinet what could only be a small acetylene torch. It popped and fizzled as she pulled its trigger and lit the tiny, bright blue flame.

"Oh God," Jack moaned just before the blaze engulfed him.

-00-

"Each time that one loves is the only time one has ever loved."
Oscar Wilde