Title: The Siege of Annwfn (8/10)

Author: Emma

Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Torchwood Three Team, Others.

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Oh, please. If I owned them, would I let some of those idiots write the scripts? And if I were making any money off them, would I be where they could find me?

Spoilers: None. This takes place in my Homecoming AU, a few months after The Eye of Neith.

Summary: The only things that stand between our Universe and disaster are Torchwood Three and Ianto’s growing powers…

Part one is here; Part two is here; Part three is here; Part four is here; Part five is here; Part six is here; Part seven is here 
 

            Nobody went home that day until Jack told them firmly to leave. The next morning, everyone had an excuse why they had to be in the Hub at the crack of dawn. They tried to keep up with their regular routines, but every time Jack’s phone rang, heads turned.  In order to keep from going spare, Ianto took over procuring lunch, making coffee, and helping John and Andy catalog and archive recently acquired artifacts. Finally, just as they were all wondering if they were going to have to wait until the next day – or longer – Jack summoned them to the conference room.

            “Luke, everyone’s here. Go ahead.”

            “Guys, this is amazing. Just amazing. I’m not going to ask how you got it, because I know you can’t tell me, but it’s just amazing!”

            ‘That’s nice, Luke. What is it exactly?”

            “It’s a way to collapse a bubble universe.”

            “That would imply,” John said carefully, “that one can create a bubble universe. I’ve heard of pocket universes, but bubbles… I thought they were impossible.”

            “Well, the implied theory seems sound. Certainly the technology is. Given enough power, you can fold space-time to enclose a determinate amount of itself into a pocket. It’s small but it behaves as a proper Universe should, and one can deduce its operating principles from observation and experimentation. These equations say that there is a way to create a pocket Universe then detach it from the multi-universe matrix. As long as it’s tethered at one point to its parent, it will be stable.” He shrugged. “Needs massive amounts of power to sustain it, though, but it could be done.”

            “So assume someone has managed to create a bubble Universe,” Jack said. “Do the equations tell us how to collapse it?”

            “It actually does two things. First, it tells you how to open a door into it, and second, it tells you how to burst the bubble. It has to be done from the inside.”

            ‘That doesn’t sound,” Gwen searched for the right word, “healthy.”

            “Might not be.”

            “So how do we go about collapsing this bubble if we have to?” Jack asked.

            “The second half is actually a set of directions for building the machine that does the job.”

            “How fast can it be done?”

            “I don’t know, Jack. We would be starting from scratch. Finding the right parts alone could take months.”

            “Ianto,” Jack said. “Could you ask your friend if we have months?”

            *Tell your One that we do not. Potentialities are fragile in captivity. If the correct processes are not initiated promptly or not done correctly, the Potentiality will terminate.*

            *How long do we have?*

            *A few days, no more.*

            “We only have a few days, Jack.”

            Luke’s face fell. “There’s no way. Most of the mechanical parts I can get or machine myself, but there’s no way in hell I can get or make the electronics in a few days. Unless Torchwood has something in one of their vaults, it will take quite a bit of looking in some very secretive places.”

            “Actually,” John said, “there might be something. I recognized some of the equations. The basis of this bubble popper is the ability to manipulate small amounts of vortex energy with pinpoint accuracy, right?”

            “Yeah.”

            John lifted his arm to show the strap. “This will do the job.”

            “John, no!” Jack protested.

            “It’s not like I’m getting a lot of use out of it, Jack,” the former time agent shrugged. “Modifying this will give us the best chance we have. No, don’t open your mouth. Yours is an older model and besides, you might need it someday.”

            “You’re all talking as if the modifications would be permanent,” Gwen said. “Couldn’t you just fix it back to what it was before once we’re done?”

            John shook his head. “Luke said the bubble would have to be collapsed from the inside. Unless we want to be collapsed with it, we will need to set the device on a time delay and let it do the job while we run like hell. Right, Luke?”

            “Yeah.  There’s a tiny chance the device itself would survive, would it would be damaged beyond repair, at least for its original purpose.”

            “So there we are.”

            “John,” Jack tried again, “if you do this, you are trapped on Earth for the rest of your life. I have chosen the linear path. Let it be mine.”

            “Jack… how old am I?”

            “Sixty-three.”

            “And looking good, wouldn’t you say?” John grinned cockily, then, noticing all the serious faces, smacked the table for emphasis. “Come on, guys. Let me lay it out for you. My people are – will be – short-lived by galactic standards. Jack here normally would have lived to over two hundred even before he got his Vortex overdose. I wouldn’t have made it past one hundred and twenty. Even with the stuff the Time Agency did to me, I ‘m not making it past one sixty. If everything goes my way and I don’t get chomped by a weevil or terminated in one of Earth’s periodic encounters with the homicidal pepper pots, I have about ninety years of productive life left. I choose to spend them on this particular dirt ball. I’ve grown attached to it for some reason.”

            “So you could be anywhere and do anything,” Andy said, “and you choose to live in Cardiff for a hundred years. I always knew there was something wrong with your brain!”

            “I didn’t say anything about Cardiff. Maybe I’ll just skip down to Ibiza and spend my days on the beach and my nights romancing the señoritas.”

            “Without the mainframe, you’d be bored in a week,” Andy snorted.

            “You’re probably right, Andy. Luke, I’ll send you the schematics for the vortex manipulator…”

            “Oh, I already have those.” Luke laughed a bit sheepishly. “I stole them from Jack years ago.”

            “Luke!” Jack sounded delighted rater than scandalized. “When?”

            ‘Remember that long weekend you came to stay with Mom, right after… well, right after Ianto left? You took the wrist strap off to go swimming, then everyone showed up for dinner and you forgot all about it until the following day. I stayed up all night working on it.”

            ‘Bad Luke. Baad Luke. So how long will it take you to finish them?”

            “Stayed up last night, too. I knew it would be your best bet but I was hoping you would have another option; I know how important the manipulator is to you. I don’t think that there are that many differences between John’s and yours, are there?”

            “Not really. Same basic design.”

            “OK, here goes.” The Mainframe hummed and beeped in the pattern they had all learned to recognize as incoming message. John examined the information scrolling across the screen, unconsciously humming in counterpoint. Once the last line scrolled off, Luke’s face reappeared.

            “What do you think, John?”

            “It seems simple enough.”

            ‘It is. Whoever developed this has a very elegant mind.” He turned his head to look at someone they couldn’t see. “I have to go. We’re heading back, classes start tomorrow. You have my cell number. Call me, ok? Whatever happens let me know you guys are all right.”

            “We will, Luke.” Jack ended the call and turned to John, who was studying the monitor on his handheld. “John, how long will it take you to make the modifications?”

            “Only a few hours. It’s actually quite simple. Elegant, as Luke said.”

            “All right, get to work. Andy, you’re our poetry expert. Scour that thing for more clues. Martha, get together a field kit that we can take. You’ll need to get the med bay ready for major injuries, just in case. Gwen, I’m going to need you to Hub sit. Don’t narrow your eyes at me like that. You have been trained specifically to take over if something happens to me. We could all disappear tomorrow and you and Martha could pick up the pieces and keep Torchwood a going concern. Martha…”

            A blast of wind rattled the conference room’s glass walls. It was immediately followed by the familiar vworp vworp sound of a blue police call box materializing near the fountain. Jack looked at Martha, who shook her head. The TARDIS had barely settled when the door opened and an obviously irritated Doctor bounced out.

            “Oi! Torchwood! Jack! Martha!”

            Jack and Martha rushed downstairs, followed by the rest of them at a more sedate pace. Ianto brought up the rear. He was nervous; one look and the Doctor would know what was happening to him. Ianto was worried about his reaction, if only for Jack’s sake.

            “Doctor? What are you doing here?”

            The Time Lord threw up his hands. “You tell me, Jack. I’m half-way to the Serenity cluster and suddenly she takes it in her head to come to Cardiff. Overrode all the controls. Then, just to jam the cork in it, she refuses to park in her usual place and plops down right inside your Hub. What is going on, Jack?”

            “Quite a bit, Doctor. Martha and I were…”

            Jack realized the Doctor’s attention had already fixed somewhere else. He turned to see what the Time Lord was looking at with such a rapt expression. Ianto stood at the bottom of the stairs, staring back defiantly.

            “Jack,” the Doctor clapped his hands like a child being offered his favorite treat. “This is fantastic!”