‘They’ve no idea what they’re dealing with,’ said Toshiko.
‘Do we?’
In the SUV, Ianto’s voice came through, husky and pained: ‘Jack, I have a call for you. It’s the PM.’
‘Now?’ Jack snapped. ‘All right, put him through.’ Jack took a hand off the wheel and tried to clear his throat, which turned into a full-on coughing session before he could resume speaking. ‘Hello, Prime Minister,’ he croaked. He listened for a moment and then said, ‘No, sir, the situation is not under control. Yes, I know it’s fast becoming an emergency. And yes, Torchwood is doing everything it can to resolve the situation.’
He listened for a minute longer, his face grim in the light of the dashboard. ‘With respect, sir, we don’t operate on those lines. If you want to flood the area with troops in NBC gear then that’s your call. It won’t affect what we’re doing. But no, I don’t think it’s a good idea. For one thing it won’t do a damn bit of good and it’ll probably start a panic … No, I should think the Home Secretary is probably safe. There is no need for him and the rest of the Cabinet to go into the secure facility … Oh, you already are. OK, well you sit tight, sir, and don’t worry. And tell the Home Secretary it’s probably just a cold. We’ll handle things from here.’
Jack broke the connection and bared his teeth in feral anger. ‘Dumbass. He thinks we’re responsible.’
‘Us?’ queried Gwen incredulously.
‘The disease is concentrated around the Cardiff area and South Wales. Of course, it’s started to affect some areas in England, so now Westminster’s worried. The finger is being pointed at Torchwood.’
‘It must be something to do with the Rift,’ Owen pointed out. ‘It’s connected somehow.’
They had to cross through the Trynsel area, and Owen realised that they were passing near the medical centre. But the first thing they saw was a lot of police cars, blue lights flashing, then a fleet of ambulances. Paramedics and cops were walking around, heads down.
‘What’s going on?’ wondered Gwen.
‘We’re near the medical centre where Bob Strong worked.’
‘Where he first met Saskia Harden,’ Jack added.
A policeman in a florescent hi-vis vest waved them down. Jack pulled up and opened the driver’s window. As the SUV slowed, the cop saw the word TORCHWOOD stencilled on the wing and immediately stiffened, practically coming to attention. ‘Sorry, sir, didn’t realise it was you,’ he said. He covered his mouth and coughed painfully. ‘We’re trying to cordon off the area,’ he continued. ‘So we’re redirecting traffic. Just waiting for the diversion signs, see.’
Beyond the last police car, they could see a pair of army medical trucks, large red crosses on the khaki sides. Soldiers were pulling on white one-piece overalls and transparent plastic helmets.
The policeman noted Jack’s look and said, ‘It’s just a precaution – leastways, that’s what they’re telling us. I don’t believe anything they say any more. Do you lot know what’s happening, sir? Only I’m from around here, and I know a lot of people who’ve got the blood cough, see.’ He reached into his pocket and produced a handkerchief smeared with red. ‘Myself included. My sergeant says I can’t go off duty, though. All leave’s been cancelled. Half the boys are sick and my missus, well, she’s very worried. We’ve got two kids, you know …’
Jack looked up at him. The cop was no more than twenty-three, maybe twenty-four. Behind him the troops were getting their Nuclear-Biological-Chemical suits sorted. ‘Don’t worry,’ Jack told him. He smiled. ‘We’re on it.’
The policeman waved the SUV through, and Jack accelerated towards the city centre, calling in to Ianto as he went.
‘Tell Toshiko we need results and fast. This thing’s officially out of control.’
‘That might be difficult,’ replied Ianto. His voice sounded strained, but he was doing his best to stay calm and professional.
‘What gives?’ Jack demanded, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel.
‘I’ve just been to check on Tosh. She’s unconscious.’
They took the quickest route to the Hub – pulling up with a screech of brakes by the Millennium Centre and sprinting to the water tower. There was just enough room for the three of them on the paving slab that doubled as a lift platform. No one else could see them – or at least no one else could notice them – when they stood on that particular paving stone right in front of the tower. Jack operated the lift using the remote control built into his wrist-strap and the paving stone began to descend, sliding beneath the ground.
Gwen started coughing, twisting around, away from the others, as the pain stabbed through her. As the mirrored surface of the fountain start to rise above her, Gwen spotted the reflection of a woman staring back at her: thin, blonde, raincoat. Saskia Harden. Reacting instinctively, Gwen leapt off the plinth as it dropped below ground level, scrambling onto the pavement. Several passers-by looked around in shock as she seemed to appear from nowhere.
Jack’s voice was already crackling in Gwen’s ear: ‘Gwen, what’s up?’
‘I’ve just seen Saskia Harden,’ she gasped, regaining her feet, turning in a slow circle as she scanned the area. ‘Oh my God, Jack, she was looking right at us. She could see us. The perception filter didn’t work.’
The paving stone sank into the Hub. Jack had one hand to his ear as he talked. ‘How could she get here so fast?’
‘I’ve no idea.’
‘Maybe she knows where the Rift is,’ suggested Owen.
‘Still doesn’t explain how she beat us here,’ they heard Gwen say.
Jack gritted his teeth, annoyed. ‘Either way, she knows we’re here. What’s she want?’
‘I can’t see her now,’ Gwen said. ‘I’ve lost her. She must be here somewhere …’ Her voice wavered as she talked and moved.
‘Keep looking. We’ll deal with things down here. Stay in touch and don’t take any risks.’ Jack jumped down from the paving-stone platform before it had come to a halt and ran across the Hub and up to the Hothouse. Ianto was already there, inside, trying to resuscitate Toshiko. He was bent over her, head down, mouth to mouth. Owen hurried through, sliding past Ianto, quickly taking over.
‘Tosh? It’s me, Owen.’ He pulled back an eyelid, felt for her pulse. Listened to her chest. ‘You did all right,’ he told Ianto hurriedly. ‘She’s still breathing. Good job.’
‘You broke the seal,’ Jack said to Ianto as he walked slowly out of the Hothouse.
Ianto looked shaken. ‘What else could I do? Tosh was just lying on the floor. She wasn’t moving. I thought she was …’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Jack told him softly.
Ianto’s lips tightened but he didn’t reply. His gaze was fixed on Owen as he worked, listening as he muttered non-stop to the inert figure. ‘Tosh? Toshiko? Can you hear me? Come on, Tosh … Give me a sign …’
Ianto swallowed and coughed. ‘I came down to see how she was doing. I knew she was weak, but … I found her there on the floor. She wasn’t moving.’ He took a deep, shuddering breath and dragged a hand down his face. ‘I didn’t know what to do … We were all relying on her.’
Jack touched Ianto’s arm. ‘Hey. You did the right thing.’
Ianto looked at Jack, took in his pale, sweating features – so unlike the vibrant, full-of-life man he knew so well. ‘We’re all dying, aren’t we?’
‘We’re not dead yet,’ Jack told him. ‘And we’ve got a job to do – all of us. Gwen saw Saskia Harden just before we came down. She’s searching the area now, but she needs help. Go check the CCTV. Work with Gwen. Find Saskia for me.’
Ianto nodded and moved away.
Jack stepped into the Hothouse and knelt down by Owen. Toshiko was lying in the recovery position, flecks of dried blood on her pale lips. She looked uncomfortably like Bob Strong had when they’d found him on his living room floor. ‘How is she?’
‘She’s spark out. I can’t get a response although the pulse is steady. She�
�s breathing OK.’
‘You know what I mean,’ Jack said.
For a few moments, Owen was taken over by another coughing fit, bringing up blood which he spat to one side. Eventually he said, ‘If you mean, is Tosh about to throw up one of those things then I don’t know. Maybe. Probably.’
Jack surveyed the detritus around the Hothouse – discarded test tubes, specimen jars, slides, paperwork, tissues. The tangled remains of a fallen rubber plant. Some blood, coughed up and then smudged across the floor. This didn’t look like somewhere Toshiko had been working. She was usually neat and methodical, the epitome of a scientist. Everything in its place and a place for everything. But now even her white lab coat was covered in red stains.
‘It’ll kill her,’ Jack said.
TWENTY-TWO
Gwen stopped to lean against the rail as another coughing fit came. She was shaking and her head was pounding. She hacked and coughed and then spat the result out into the bay. After a few moments, the cold wind blowing in across the water started to refresh her, flicking her hair back from her face, drying out the sweat.
She took a deep breath of the freezing air and stood up straight. This was no time to be ill. She had a duty to perform. With an effort she turned around, leant against the rail with her back to the bay and turned her full attention on Roald Dahl Plass. She could see the water tower and the bronze armadillo shape of the Millennium Centre. There were plenty of people around, but she couldn’t see any tall blonde in a raincoat. There were a hundred places she could have gone, heading away from the Centre, into the cafés and restaurants which surrounded the area, or further into the city. But somehow she didn’t think Saskia had gone. All her instincts told her that the woman was here somewhere. Why else would she come and stand there, watching them, waiting for them? Her business was here, with Torchwood, with the Rift itself.
‘Gwen?’ Ianto’s voice. He sounded rough. She wondered if she sounded as bad to him, and thought that she probably did. ‘I’m checking all the CCTV cameras in the area. No sign of Saskia Harden as yet.’
‘OK, good,’ Gwen responded. ‘Keep checking. She’s here somewhere, I’m sure of it.’ She started back towards the Plass, looking everywhere but still talking. ‘How’s Tosh?’
‘Not good.’
‘OK.’ Gwen swallowed with difficulty and pushed on. She watched a patrol car coming from the direction of Lloyd George Avenue, blues and twos going like mad. She wondered how long it would be before there were ambulances here and army trucks and soldiers in NBC kit.
Jack and Owen lifted Toshiko onto the autopsy table. Neither of the men would look at each other; neither wanted to be the one to acknowledge what this felt like. All the time, Owen was muttering under his breath, ‘She’s gonna be fine, she’s gonna be fine,’ as he busied himself around the room, gathering equipment, wheeling monitors over to the table, plugging in cables.
Jack slumped against the stairs, hands cupped over his mouth as he coughed again. He knew from the taste that there was blood, a lot of it, and something else, too. A thick, foul slime he was bringing up from Hell itself. He spat it out into a cardboard dish and groaned.
‘This going to work?’ he asked eventually.
‘How do I know?’ Owen retorted. He was powering up a piece of machinery by the side of the autopsy table. He still wouldn’t look directly at Toshiko’s still body. ‘We’ve got to be sure, though, haven’t we? We can’t do anything until we’re sure.’
‘OK,’ Jack agreed, pushing himself upright. ‘Let’s do it.’
‘We haven’t got time for a proper X-ray,’ Owen said as he operated the controls on the monitor. ‘This should do just as well, though. Ultrasound scanner – just like they use on pregnant women.’
They exchanged a look. Jack scowled, and Owen swallowed, turning his attention back to the equipment. ‘OK, we’re set.’
He took hold of the scanner, making sure there was enough flex on it to use properly. Then he nodded at Toshiko. ‘Open her top.’
Jack pushed the lapels of her lab coat aside and then pulled the neck of her top down away from her throat. Owen spread some clear gel around the skin of her neck and chest with his free hand and then placed the scanner against the flesh.
The screen showed a fuzzy mixture of lines and shapes like a particularly bad TV reception. It looked like nothing to Jack, who said so.
‘Wait while I get my bearings,’ Owen told him, twisting around so that he could check the view on the screen while he moved the scanner. ‘Ribs. Sternum. Thorax.’ He pulled a face. ‘Looks OK to me.’
‘Would one of those things show up on that?’
‘No reason why it shouldn’t, even if it’s very small. Which, judging by the thing that came out of Bob Strong’s throat, it won’t be.’ Owen moved the scanner into a different position, monitoring the result carefully as the grey smudges on the screen shifted and coalesced. ‘I can’t see anything,’ he said at last.
‘Can’t see anything as in you can’t tell, or can’t see anything as in she’s all clear?’
He shrugged. ‘As far as I can tell, she’s all clear.’
Jack frowned. ‘How can that be? She’s had all the symptoms. Hell, we all have …’
Owen switched the scanner off and put it down on the tray by the monitor. ‘I don’t understand it.’
‘That’s because you’re a man,’ said Toshiko weakly.
Gwen had circled right around the Plass and was now standing directly in front of the water tower.
‘Any sign?’ she asked, still scanning. The wind from the bay made her eyes water. She had to keep blinking to make sure her vision wasn’t compromised.
‘Nothing,’ Ianto’s voice sounded in her ear. ‘I’ve combed the area three times and run a face-recognition program we stole from the FBI. Anyone who’s even looked towards one of the cameras has been checked by computer, but no hits for Saskia Harden.’
‘She’s here somewhere, I know she is,’ Gwen murmured.
‘Very perceptive of you,’ said a voice behind her.
Gwen whirled around – but there was no one there. She stared at her reflection in the tower, rippling under the constant flow of water which slid down the mirrored surface.
A soft laugh tinkled like glass in the water.
Just for a second, Gwen thought she saw a face in the water: thin, sharp, silvery like a slug trail. She caught her breath, surprised, and then the face was gone, dissolving into the flow of the water like a mirage.
Gwen felt the hairs on her arms and neck stirring. There was something here, something unnatural. Something she should notice.
And then, with a slow, cold dread, she realised what she had missed. It was so obvious she wanted to shout, to kick, to scream out loud. But all she could do was cough, and point. ‘I can see you,’ she gasped, pointing at the fountain. ‘I know you’re there.’
And the simple realisation of it allowed her to see, to perceive, what no one else around her could. Standing on the paving slab right in front of the fountain, right in front of her, was Saskia Harden.
She seemed to be tall, although she was only Gwen’s height. She still gave the impression that she was looking down, though, with eyes that were as cold as the morning frost on a lawn. Her skin almost white, her lips wide and slightly parted. There was only a glimpse of darkness between them. She wasn’t beautiful, or even pretty, but she was striking. In a room full of gorgeous women, it would be Saskia Harden that all the men turned to look at.
‘Took you long enough,’ she said to Gwen. Her voice was as cool as mist.
‘Standing on that paving stone,’ Gwen muttered. ‘You’ve got quite a nerve.’
‘Works, though, doesn’t it? Not even you could see me – not even when you were looking right at me. What is it? Perception filter? Chameleon field?’
Gwen stood very still. She tried to concentrate, to gather herself, to ask the right questions and say the right things, but her head felt muzzy and her chest and throat hur
t like hell. ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked eventually.
‘Taking over,’ Saskia replied.
‘I mean here, now, at Torchwood.’
‘Checking out the competition, of course,’ she replied, casting a quick, cold glance up and down Gwen. ‘Can’t say I’m worried.’
‘We’re not competition. We don’t want to take over the world.’
She shrugged. ‘Maybe not – but you’re the only ones who will try to stop me.’
‘Sooner than you think,’ Gwen said, reaching behind her waist for her gun.
‘No.’ Saskia raised one long finger, curling it like a talon. Gwen felt herself stop, fingers barely touching the metal of the automatic stuffed into the back pocket of her jeans. She knew she should draw, knew she should aim and fire in one smooth motion, but somehow she couldn’t move. She had to see what the woman was going to say.
‘No,’ Saskia repeated. ‘Not advisable, dear. I can move a lot faster than you can. I’d bite your head off before you’d even got a hand on your weapon. And we wouldn’t want that, now, would we? I’m still picking dog hairs out of my teeth after all.’
She smiled – a wide, wide smile that told Gwen this was no human being. This was a creature capable of biting the head off a pit bull terrier. The lips had parted and for a second she saw the teeth inside – rows of sharp, uneven little spikes like clusters of dark knitting needles.
‘What are you? Where are you from?’
‘It hardly matters. It was such a long time ago.’ Without seeming to care that she was taking her eyes off Gwen, Saskia tilted her head slightly so that she could look briefly up to heaven. ‘My world disappeared – vanished without trace. I came here because I had to. There was nowhere else for me to go. Sad, but here I am. And here you are – but not for long …’
Gwen coughed, crunching up as the pain ripped through her chest, covering her mouth automatically. She spat the blood onto the ground between her feet, breathing hard.
Something in the Water Page 14