Although the thought had slipped frivolously into her head, her face darkened. She didn't want to think about the deaths of yesterday. It was only seven o'clock. She had an hour before she had to be at the Hub. One more hour of relative normality.
'Hey you!' Rhys paused his tuneless serenade, calling to her through the open bathroom door as the power shower burst into life. 'They keep telling us we're in a recession. How about we save on the water bill and you jump in here with me?'
Kicking back the covers, Gwen laughed. They'd had a pretty good date night, even after everything she'd seen yesterday. The food was brilliant, and everything that came after was pretty fabulous too. Despite the problems they'd had in their relationship when she first started at Torchwood, since they'd been married they'd rarely argued. Maybe part of that was to do with Owen and Tosh's deaths, and when she thought she'd lost Rhys himself. She wasn't going to risk that pain again. She still felt a wave of guilt tingeing her sadness when she thought of Owen and how she'd betrayed Rhys with him. It had been crazy and she wished she'd never done it, but it was all over now. She had to let it go, along with Owen himself.
'Well?' Rhys's throaty, dependable Welsh voice pulled her back from the dark memories of the past.
'I'm just coming.'
Sitting up, she took a gulp of her coffee before pushing the covers back and getting up. Stretching lithely, and feeling very much like the cat that got the cream, she decided there were worse ways to start the day. She'd taken four steps towards the bathroom when her mobile rang, and the metaphorical cream suddenly went off. Only work would be calling her at this time in the morning. In fact, as her time with Torchwood had gone on, it seemed that her mobile only ever rang if it was Rhys asking when she'd be home or Jack, Ianto, Tosh or Owen asking when she'd be getting her butt to the Hub. And now she was left with the fifty-fifty of whether it was Jack or Ianto.
'Hang on. My phone's going!' she shouted, hoping her husband would hear over the shower and his bad singing, as she dived across the bed to answer it. The caller ID showed it was Ianto.
'What's happened?' Before the words were even out of her mouth, she instinctively knew the answer. The alien had claimed another victim in the night. Dammit. Her stomach clenched and the memory of her lovely evening with Rhys was permanently soured. She should have been working. They all should have been.
'Watch the news. Then get to the Hub. Quickly.'
'I'm on my way.'
They hung up simultaneously without any of the niceties that society expected, and, with all thoughts of her shower gone, Gwen flicked the TV on and found the news channel. It was 7.15. Headline time.
'Maria Bruno, who left her natural home of Wales at 17 to find fame singing on all the finest stages of the world, was in Cardiff as part of the judging panel for the televised final of the city's annual Amateur Operatic Contest. At the height of her success in the nineties, Bruno was considered one of the greatest sopranos in the world, regularly performing alongside such greats as the late Luciano Pavarotti.'
Pulling her T-shirt on, Gwen glared at the perfectly coiffed woman on the TV. Why couldn't she just get to the point?
'Her sudden death has come as a great loss to all who knew her and will be felt deeply in the world of opera where she brought so much joy. We hope to speak to one of her fellow judges shortly, but right now we're going over live to the St David's Hotel in Cardiff, where Judy Glover has been since the news broke.'
The newsreader turned in her chair to face the screen behind her, where the familiar sight of Mermaid Quay came into view and a young woman, who was trying desperately to ignore the drizzle trickling down her face, stared seriously into the camera.
'So, Judy,' the newsreader continued from the dry warmth of the studio. 'Are you able to shed any further light on the events surrounding Maria Bruno's death yet?'
Yanking on her jeans, Gwen paused. This was the important bit.
Rhys emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. 'I thought you were coming to join-'
Without glancing at him, Gwen raised a hand to silence him. She needed to hear this. The bedsprings creaked as he sat beside her.
'Yes, I can.' The reporter on location looked grim. 'Obviously the police have yet to release a statement, but a source from inside the hotel has told us that Ms Bruno went to her suite at about nine o'clock last night and had some fruit salad delivered at nine-thirty. Her husband, Martin Meloy, who is also her manager, had a separate suite next door and he remained in the bar of the hotel until approximately half past eleven, when he returned to his own room. Ms Bruno was an early riser and her routine was that her breakfast was delivered to Mr Meloy who would then let himself into her suite and wake her with it.' The reporter paused. 'And it was when he did so that he discovered her body.'
'And do we have any possible details on what might be the cause of her death?'
A sock in one hand, Gwen stared at the TV.
'Well, as you can see from all the cars and vans behind me, there's a lot of police presence at this five-star hotel this morning and, although they have yet to release a statement, sources within the hotel who saw Ms Bruno in her rooms before the police arrived say that it would appear that her death was violent and her body was mutilated. Again, I have to stress that these are unconfirmed reports, but given the sheer quantity of police and forensic vans that are here I would suggest that it seems unlikely that her death was accidental or natural.'
'God.' Gwen's heart sank. Mutilated. It would be too much of a coincidence if this wasn't their alien.
'Are you saying this has something to do with you lot?' Beside her, Rhys's eyes were wide. 'Bloody hell, Gwen, but she's a star.'
Gwen shrugged. 'We all bleed, Rhys. We're all human.'
'Apart from maybe whatever killed her though, eh?' Rhys's voice was soft and Gwen didn't answer. There wasn't any need.
On screen, the newsreader touched her headset. 'I'm going to have to pause you there, Judy. We're just getting reports in that the body of a man has been discovered in the Angel Street park in Cardiff. The unidentified man was found by an early-morning dog walker in the area of the swings in the children's safe play area.' Gwen watched as she visibly flinched. 'The police have closed off the park and are treating the death as suspicious. Early reports suggest that the man had been violently mutilated.'
The repetition of the word made even the hardened journalist pause, and Gwen turned the TV off. She'd heard enough. Pulling her socks on, she stumbled into the hallway to grab her boots.
'I take it you're working late tonight?' Rhys leaned on the wall. She gave him a sad smile.
'Looks like it.'
There was a moment's silence while a thousand things went unsaid between them but were at the same time heard and understood.
Boots on, Gwen reached up and kissed him. 'I love you, Rhys Williams.'
'And I love you too, Gwen Cooper. And you bloody well take care out there.'
She grinned. 'I always do.' It was a lie that she knew he didn't believe but still liked to hear.
Seconds later, the door clicked shut, and Gwen Cooper belonged entirely to Torchwood again.
FOURTEEN
Stepping out of the lift that carried her down into the Hub, the first thing that hit Gwen was the sound of phones ringing. Given how few people were even aware of Torchwood's existence, that wasn't a good sign for the shape of the day ahead.
Not stopping to answer any, she found Ianto standing outside Jack's office. As always when he was frustrated with outside interference, their boss was pacing slightly behind his desk. From where Gwen was standing, it didn't look like Jack was getting much of a word in. She watched his lips.
'Yes, I understand… Yes sir, we're doing all we can…'
'Doesn't look good,' she muttered.
'First Minister for Wales was apparently a big fan.' Ianto didn't say who of. The answer was obvious. It wouldn't be the unnamed man in the park. 'As were several high-powered members of UN
IT. We've had calls from both Manhattan and Geneva. They want to know if we've got a problem that we can't handle. Seems like everyone wants answers and fast.'
'What about the other body?'
'He's the same. Cutler's securing that scene now. Clothes and skin were fused as they were cut open. And just like Maria Bruno and the others, the vocal cords were gone.'
Gwen chewed the inside of her mouth. 'But no one would be causing all this fuss just for him or those three other poor sods, would they? How crap is that?'
Ianto shrugged. 'It's the way the world works.'
'Yeah, maybe, but it doesn't mean I have to like it. I want to get this bloody alien for all of them.' Biting her lip, Gwen tried to calm down. Snapping at Ianto was a tell-tale sign that she was getting emotionally involved in a case and, as much as she couldn't stop herself, she didn't want Ianto or Jack to see that it was getting to her.
'We all do, Gwen.' Ianto looked at her sideways. 'You think Jack is affected by celebrity? That he sees one victim as more important than another?'
Gwen stayed silent. Ianto was right. She couldn't blame him for the behaviour of the rest of the world. If anyone was untouched by its shallowness, then that person was Captain Jack Harkness. He'd seen too much. He was too different. Jack was, and she couldn't help but feel a tingle run down her spine, Jack was special.
On the other side of the glass, the subject of their conversation slammed down the receiver and flung open the door.
'Get those phones switched off. Now.' Striding past both Ianto and Gwen, Jack ran his hands through his hair. 'Jesus, I can't even hear myself think. If I have to say "yes sir" or "no sir" one more time today then I swear to God I think I'll shoot myself.'
Gwen glanced back at Jack's office and the old Second World War revolver that lay on his desk. 'So you think adding a headache to your problems will help us sort this mess out, then?'
Jack glared at her. 'Whereas you seem to think humour will?'
Her smile fell. Gwen could see that he was tired and his patience was wearing thin. While she'd been home with Rhys, he'd been here working.
'Sorry.'
He waved her apology away. 'Not your fault. Just too much bureaucracy for this time in the morning.' He took a deep breath and planted his hands on his hips.
Behind them, Ianto flicked a switch and the sound of telephones abruptly ceased. The Hub fell mercifully silent.
Jack finally smiled. 'Thank you.' He leaned against a workstation and let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as they released some tension.
'Have you been working all night?' Gwen asked. Over by the coffee machine, Ianto set the water burbling.
'In the words of the great Lionel Richie, I have indeed been working all night long.' Jack looked up. 'But it was worth it.'
Both Ianto and Gwen stared.
'This isn't the time for a dramatic pause,' Gwen said finally. Her heart was thumping hard. 'What have you found?'
'I think I know who our alien is. Or at least where he comes from.'
Gwen looked over at Ianto and saw her own excitement reflected there. Five people were dead, and they hadn't been able to do anything about it. This was the first time they'd had anything that even resembled a lead.
Jack leaned over the large computer screen next to the Rift monitor. 'Come take a look.'
Ianto and Gwen leaned in on either side of him, and Gwen wondered if Ianto felt the same slight electric charge when his arm brushed against Jack's that she did. Probably. And probably a lot more. After all, their relationship was somewhat more intimate. For a moment her mind drifted, wondering not for the first time, how differently Jack would touch her from how he touched Ianto. Heat crept into her face and, frowning, she forced herself to focus on the screen. This really wasn't the time for that kind of daydream.
'What are we looking at?' she asked.
'This, my friends, is what the furthest corner of the known universe looks like.' Jack hesitated. 'Known to Earth, anyway.'
Beneath the gridlines marking out coordinates, the screen was filled with swirls of coloured gases and dark spots of various shapes that Gwen could only imagine were planets. Dotted more sporadically were brighter orbs. Suns.
'Isn't it amazing?' Jack's voice had taken on the hint of childish wonder and enthusiasm that Gwen had heard so much less of in recent months. It made her heart glow warm inside her. Her own sun. She looked over at the handsome man and he turned away from the screen for a second and grinned at her. Maybe he was their sun, she thought. And like the planets tugged in by gravity, once they'd been pulled into his orbit there was no real way out. Other than Retcon or death. And neither was a good option.
'So one of these planets is inhabited then?' Ianto asked. 'Which one?'
Jack laughed. 'Jeez, Ianto, all your years in Torchwood and that's the limit of your imagination?' He shook his head. 'There are thousands of planets on that screen, and hundreds of them are inhabited.' He grinned. 'And some of them are pretty good fun to visit.' He nudged the young man beside him. 'You'd love it. Beautiful boys, beautiful girls…' He paused, and shrugged. 'Well, near enough boys and girls. Humanoid at least.'
'Are we getting off the point here?' Standing back a little, Gwen folded her arms across her chest.
'Just giving you the full tour.' Jack's eyes narrowed. 'See here.' He pointed to the top left-hand corner of the flat monitor. This area of space was darker, the stars spread more infrequently and glowing less brightly as if fighting to stay burning against the blackness that threatened to swallow them up. Gwen could just about make out the occasional darker spot within the shadowy surrounds.
'Are those planets?' she asked, pointing one out.
'Uh-huh.' Jack nodded. 'And I think our alien comes from that one.'
He indicated a blur of darkness that was so far to the edge of the screen it was almost out of view.
'It doesn't look much like a planet,' Ianto said. 'Looks like a ball of gas.'
Gwen wasn't sure how Ianto could tell. Space was just space to her. It was only when it brought its business to Earth that she paid it any attention.
Jack stood up. 'That's because the planet itself is tiny, but it's wrapped in this black atmosphere. I'm not even sure it is gas. But whatever it is, it houses the inhabitants of the planet. They spend most of their time invisible in it, with no real form to speak of, each one simply a dark shadow lost in a cocoon of nothing wrapped around solid earth.' His voice was soft and serious. 'They choose to spend their lives disembodied and only re-form into their humanoid shapes in order to mate. It was thousands of years before anyone else in the galaxy even realised there was life on it.'
Ianto glanced at Jack. 'Well, we're looking for something that can change its shape and get through small spaces. I guess if one of these aliens were in its formless state that would fit the criteria. It would also explain some of the element of surprise. If it didn't take its solid shape until the last moment, there would be no time for the victim to call for help.'
'Exactly,' Jack said.
'They're not friendly then, on this planet?' Gwen asked. 'Although I suppose we can tell that from their habit of ripping out people's vocal cords.'
Jack shook his head. 'No, they're not friendly. But they're not unfriendly either.'
'How do you mean?'
'It's known as the Silent Planet. It doesn't have any other name because the creatures that live on it have no communication with the outside universe. They don't name themselves. Therefore they didn't name their planet.' He sighed. 'It's kind of a forgotten place. I'm surprised I even had it in the database. Must have been feeling thorough that day.'
'They don't have names?' Gwen looked at him. 'So how do they identify each other? Smell?'
Jack frowned and thrust his hands into his pockets thoughtfully. 'They don't identify each other. That's the point. It's known as the Silent Planet because there is no communication. They exist entirely contained within themselves from birth. There's no speech, no touc
h. Nothing. The idea of sharing their existence with another being is abhorrent to them.' His frown deepened. 'That's what the studies show at any rate. I mean, it's not as if you can just drop in and ask them. And even if you could then they wouldn't have a language to answer you with, so I'll take the researchers' word for it.'
'They never communicate with anyone at all?' For a moment Gwen tried to imagine how that would feel. The closest she could get was remembering a film she'd seen about a deaf, dumb and blind girl who'd eventually learned to read Braille and write. But even then she'd had touch. She had known other people. 'Must be lonely.'
'Guess it would seem that way to us. But it's the way they live. So to them it's perfectly natural. Our world would be a nightmare to them.'
The coffee machine gargled and spat the last of the boiling water through the filter and into the sizzling jug. Ianto was still staring at the screen as if the image would somehow force everything else to make sense, so Gwen went and poured, suddenly aware of every sound; the gentle thwump of her boots on the tiled floor underneath, the soft whisper of the milk hitting the base of the mugs, and then the clear tinkle of the metal spoon against ceramic as she stirred. They were noises that she almost didn't hear normally, they were just part of life. She tried to imagine silence — the non-existence of sound. She couldn't. Blowing her hair out of her face, she picked up the mugs and headed back. Ianto was still looking puzzled.
'So what happened? If our world would be such a nightmare to them, and I can see how it would be, then how did one of them end up here?'
Jack shrugged. 'What do we know about the Rift? It brings stuff to Earth that doesn't belong here. And sometimes it takes people away to where they don't belong as well.' He sipped his coffee. 'Maybe the Rift has opened up on the Silent Planet, or near it, and pulled someone through.'
'It still doesn't make sense.' Gwen's brow furrowed. 'Imagine if you were suddenly taken from that planet to this one where everything is about sound and communication. TV, radio, constant traffic noise, mobile phones…' She stretched her hands out as if to elaborate her point. Even in that movement there was communication. 'It would send any creature insane.'
Into the Silence t-10 Page 8