He sat at the airstrip, waiting.
The giant zeppelin that belonged to John Lumic loomed overhead, a great, bulbous reflection of the man inside. Lumic had of course made much of his fortune on things like zeppelins and other materials using his steel, and had diversified it in all sorts of ways, including Cybus and Vitex. He was a creative man, one to be admired, that much was for sure, but he had always been elusive. Known for his work ethic and taciturn ways, he had never been a people person, never warm and fuzzy. That was why he had been eager to retain Pete when he'd taken over Vitex. Pete was a well known face in the market, everyone knew they could "trust" Pete Tyler. He could make Cybus friendly, respectable.
None of those things described John Lumic. Callous and recalcitrant, even before the cancer, he was well known for being happier in a research lab than in a boardroom, and had rubbed more than a few of those the wrong way over the years. Still, no denying he was a man of vision. He'd started from not much, more than Pete, but not considerably so, the son of a career military father who had a knack for chemistry and engineering. He'd had the opportunities Pete hadn't before Torchwood. What he lacked in charm and affability he made up for in brilliance and creativity. And the world respected him for it, even if privately they thought he was a giant arsehole.
The official looking SUV in the distance hinted at the arrival of the President, John Cain, with little of the fanfare he normally would have. It was rare that the President of the Republic was ever allowed out of Buckingham Palace without a full escort and security all around him in a long, stretch, and highly armored limousine. He was lightly escorted, which hinted that he was coming in secret. He smiled brightly at the serious and austere man who stepped out, frowning mildly at Pete.
"Mr. Tyler, what's the matter that this couldn't wait till tonight?"
Pete wished he knew. "Mr. President, honored." He took the other man's hand and mentally noted he hadn't voted for him last election. He only felt a little bad about that. "I'm on the fast track program. Cybus Industries have bought my company, so I'm part of the firm now."
Cain at least managed something of a smirk at this, "Some people say they've bought my government."
Pete effected a guffaw at that, more cheerful than he really felt. "I've never heard anybody say that, never! You can trust me on this."
His catch phrase fell flat with the leader of the British nation. He didn't even crack a smile. "I tried your drink, that Vitex stuff. It tastes like pop."
Pete felt his smile melt somewhat into a hint of shamefacedness. "Well...it is pop."
The President's eyes glittered shrewdly. "You made money by selling health food drinks to a sick world. Not quite the ordinary Joe you appear to be, are you?"
Pete let his "you can trust me" facade drop. Clearly, the President wasn't going to buy it, not in this setting.
"He does like to keep us waiting," Cain mused, glancing at the zeppelin. Clearly, he knew little more about any of this than Pete did. "But tell me, you've had a chance to observe John Lumic more than most. What's your opinion?"
He wasn't asking Pete for PR, and he knew it. Cain was clever, much more clever than his political opponents would give him credit for. Pete decided to go for diplomatic, at least for now. "He's very sharp, I'd say. Sharp as ever. Very clever man, brilliant, in fact."
"Then you don't think he's insane?"
Pete glanced at the other man carefully. "That's not the word I would've used, no."
"I see." The President nodded, clearly getting the intent of Pete's words, making his way up the steps to the zeppelin. His own guard stayed at the bottom, save one who followed behind them to the top.
While zeppelins came in all shapes and sizes, Lumics was particularly impressive. Designed to be intimidating, it served partly as Lumic's boardroom, partly as his private research lab, and partly as his personal home. He'd forsaken his own house in London years before, preferring to stay in his zeppelin full time. Some said it was because he could perform his more morally questionable experiments outside of government restrictions, others said it was so he could travel the world looking for miracle cures. Pete wondered if it weren't a little of both. He'd never had a family of his own that anyone knew of, his work was his life. He had little use for the frippery of wealth, but his zeppelin was his one expense, his one demonstration of his immense power and wealth.
A smiling steward met them at the top, politely greeting the President before showing them both to Lumic's boardroom cabin. It was dim inside, only lit where John Lumic sat, enthroned, in his wheelchair. There was a quiet hiss of oxygen as Lumic breathed from a great, automated mask attached to his face. As they entered, he pushed it away, smiling in polite greeting.
"President Cain, so pleased to see you," Lumic's voice was a rumble in the low hum of the room. He turned to Pete. "Thank you, Mr. Tyler for making it. I am sure your wife will forgive me for intruding on her proceedings."
"Jackie understood, and said to say she is disappointed you won't be there."
"I'm sure," Lumic murmured without questioning Pete's outright lie. "It's my understanding, President Cain, that you will be attending. Jacqueline Tyler's events, from what I hear, are always well worth it."
"I'm looking forward to it," Cain replied, nodding at Pete. "With that in mind, perhaps we should get started with the presentation?"
"Of course." Lumic waved to the seats around his boardroom. He nodded to a member of his staff, who dutifully pressed a set of glowing buttons on the wall towards the side, as several, high-definition screens came to life.
"I've asked you here today, President Cain, because I wanted to present to you the future."
The screens glowed as the center one zoomed with graphics into a digital recreation of the human body. It's many blood vessels and nerves endings pulsed with quiet light as John Lumic smiled benignly at the image. Pete glanced at him, feeling his own nerves screaming with foreboding.
"What more is the human body than a collection of tubes and electrical synapses?" Lumic asked rhetorically as the image zoomed into the heart, a muscle washed in blue light, pumping rhythmically. "The heart, little more than a regulator and generator that keeps it all running. And the brain!"
The image zoomed upwards towards the digitized, blue washed brain. "The brain is the center of it all. A highly functioning computer, it is the heart and soul of what it means to be human. Everything we think, everything we feel, everything that makes us who we are resides within the whorls and curls of this organ."
The image on the screen pulsed with life and possibility.
"Humanity has used this organ to dream, to think bigger and more boldly, to conquer the globe, even to see the stars. But for all of human ingenuity they have never been able to manage the impossible. While humans can make life, they have never figured out the science of prolonging life...of living forever."
The screen zoomed out again, now to various amputees. Some had fake arms and hands, others legs, one picture was the close up of a glass eye. "For centuries humanity has used technology to replace those limbs that have failed them, those body parts that because of illness, or accident, or war they have been deprived of. Even hearts now can be replaced and regulated by machinery, which for our ancestors would have seen like witchcraft."
The screen pulled out, now to the original image, a body, nothing more than blood vessels and impulses, the brain shining in the ghostly skull. "What if we could do the same thing to the entire body itself? A failing body is no longer a death sentence. "The most precious thing on this Earth is the human brain, and yet we allow it to die. But now, Cybus Industries has perfected a way of sustaining the brain indefinitely within a cradle of copyrighted chemicals. And the latest advances in synapse research allows cyberkinetic impulses to be bonded onto a metal exoskeleton."
Slowly on the screen the image of the body was surrounded by metal sheeting, layers connecting to synapses, as the image took on the haunting horror of Pete's B-movie robots. He felt his mouth go dry as he glanced across to President Cain. He noted how the other man's eyes were wide in his dark, disturbed face. Yvonne had gotten to him, and Pete knew no matter what Lumic suggested here, he'd never agree to this.
"It's the ultimate upgrade," Lumic murmured proudly. "Our greatest step into cyberspace."
That was clearly all that the President needed to hear. "I'm sorry, could we stop it here?"
The video stopped as Lumic's wasted face turned in surprise, veiled annoyance in his sharp gaze.
"I don't need the pitch. I think we all know what this ultimate upgrade entails." The President shook his head, looking only on the polite side of disgusted. "And I'm here to tell you, John, the answer is no. My government does not give you permission. And I think no government ever will."
Lumic's jaw clenched. "I prepared a paper for the Ethical Committee!"
"Oh, come on," Cain stared at him in disbelief. "It's not just unethical, it's obscene."
Anger flared, but more than that. So too did desperation. "Mr. President, if I might make a personal plea. I am dying, sir."
Cain's horror only softened a little. "I'm aware of that. And I'm sorry."
"Without this project, you have condemned me," Lumic growled. The fine hairs on Pete's neck rose as he quickly thought of ways to placate his boss. "My inventions have advanced this whole planet. Would you have all that perish?"
The President was unswayed, frowning in admonishment. "You're a fine businessman, John, but you're not God. I'm really very sorry, but I think we should end it there."
Without preamble, the President made to leave, glancing over at Pete as he went. "Mr. Tyler, I'll see you tonight. I think we could all do with a drink." His eyes flickered to Lumic who sat, sullen and starring in his chair. "Mr. Lumic."
The other man didn't even acknowledge the President as he left. Pete's eyed him warily. Even at the best of times, Lumic could be taciturn to the point of rudeness. He didn't think he'd ever seen Lumic angry. But he could see it, the raging, hot blaze of it, fueled by disappointment and a dying body that was failing him much sooner than his mind wanted it. He'd pity the man if he wasn't so horrified by what he was suggesting.
"Still, it's not the only country in the world," Pete tried to throw out cheerfully, anything to break the awful silence, like after a row with Jackie. "There's always New Germany."
"This is the homeland, my birthplace," Lumic replied shortly. "You may leave."
Pete didn't need to be told twice. The foul look on Lumic's face was enough to make anyone run. He resisted the urge and simply walked briskly, waiting till he was well down the hallway and out of the spiral, metal staircase before he let his nerves show. The President was still there, waiting for him, as he tried to slap on a watery smile.
"Did you know about this?"
"No, sir, not till today. I had an inkling, though, before the meeting." He neglected to tell the other man why he did.
"And you still don't want to say that he's insane?"
"Is it so insane to want to save your life," Pete offered softly, glancing back at the brooding zeppelin. "I mean, think about it, that's what this is about. He want to save his life."
"And who would check him on this?" The President scowled, shaking his head. "Who's to say that this technology couldn't be used on people against their will. Put their brains in metal bodies, make an entire army of them. Lumic's powerful, Mr. Tyler, too powerful, and he's been let loose for far too long without any checks on that power. And this is the price we are paying for it."
Pete blinked, wondering if Cain knew, if he had put the pieces together and knew Torchwood's involvement...and Pete's. "He was right up there, sir. What he's done has changed our world for the better."
"And that gives him to right to play at things that he shouldn't? I don't think so. You know the old story, Frankenstein? Lumic is brilliant, but even brilliance has its limits. And I have to say no to this, and you know it. I feel for the man, I do, but I can't sanction what he's suggesting."
"Of course not, sir." Pete didn't expect him to. And honestly, he didn't need to prove his case with him. "I'll see you off, then. Don't want you late for the party. Jacks would never forgive me."
The President's stiff smile returned. "Of course. We don't want to upset Jacqueline. Is she having that nice, French red I love?"
"The wine cellar is open to you, sir, you know that." Back came on the Pete Tyler charm as he slapped the President on the back. He waited while the other man climbed into his SUV, surrounded by protection, and watched him slowly drive off, back to the palace briefly before making the trek out to his own estate. As he did, he flipped on his earpods, murmuring Miles' name.
"And," the voice on the other end asked perfunctorily.
"Get the Preachers out to my house, tonight. I need to be kidnapped."
"Seriously? From your own wife's birthday party."
"Means I get out of it, doesn't it?' I need to get out of this, Miles, I'm too close, and Lumic is desperate. He's been denied, the President isn't going to give it to him, he's..." The pieces fell into place then. The Preachers' video, the missing people, the President's dire warning. "Oh my God, he's been experimenting already."
"What do you mean?"
"The missing homeless people! He's been experimenting already." Pete looked desperately around him. There was no one there, no one to speak to, and no one to hear his call. "Have them come to my house, tonight. I am the only one who knows his operation, and he's going to pack it up and move it somewhere where he can get what he wants, and once he's out of here, it will be a hell of a lot harder for Torchwood to stop him."
"And you think that staging your kidnapping will prevent this?" Miles didn't sound convinced.
"I can't compromise my position as a spy for Torchwood, and I need to get this information out there before Lumic gets off clean. It's the only way I can do it without arousing suspicion." He didn't like the idea, especially as the Preachers had no idea who Gemini really was. Chances were high they'd rather beat the hell out of him before listening to him. But it was the only chance he did have. "In the meantime, I think Lumic is pulling out of Battersea. Get that information to them as Gemini."
"If that's what you want." Miles muttered, clearly not happy with any of this. "What about security at your house?"
"Keep the detail low, don't what the Preachers hurt. Also, don't care to be shot."
"I don't think Jackie would like it either. You'll ruin her party either way and scare the hell out of her."
Pete knew that. A small part of him rather hoped it did. Maybe change her mind, if he lived past all of this. "She'll be fine. Just make sure that there's enough to keep the guests safe, and we'll manage."
"I hope you know what you're doing, cause I see this going pear-shaped real fast."
"Me too," Pete muttered, making his way to his car and desperately hoping he wasn't doing something monumentally stupid. "But between you and me, I haven't a clue, honestly.
His PA only managed a sarcastic, "It figures."