Title: The Eye of Neith (6/10)
Author: Emma
Characters/Pairings: Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Rhys, Martha, Andy, John Hart; Jack/Ianto, mentions of past others
Rating: R, maybe
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. Takes place twenty or so years after Series 2 ends.
Summary: Torchwood’s past and Ianto’s future collide when Ianto’s former lover arrives in Cardiff asking for help…
Author's Note: Validium is featured in the classic Doctor Who episode Silver Nemesis

Homecoming is here; Part one is here; Part two is here; Part three is here; Part four is here ; Part five is here

 

            The warehouses were tucked in a bend of the river, surrounded by equally derelict tenements.  This was old industrial Cardiff, not yet reclaimed by the twin waves of urbanization and tourism. The atmosphere was not improved by the rusty chain-link fence someone had put up in a vain attempt to keep out squatters and ‘urban recyclers’.

 

            “They had some very interesting electronics on that fence,” John said. “Would have seen us coming a parsec away.”

 

            “I take it you disabled them?” asked Ianto.

 

            “Aaw, you know better than that, Eye-Candy.” John smirked. “I put them on a short video loop.  All they’ll see is the same deserted streets. They’re probably used to the lovely view.”

 

            Andy and Gwen appeared from either end of the street, joining the group standing in the shadow of a half-demolished building.

 

            “Six men, armed with machine guns,” Andy reported. “I don’t think I approve of machine guns in Cardiff.”

 

            “In this instance,” said John drily. “Neither do I.”

 

            “Mind you,” said Gwen, “they look more like prison guards than soldiers.”

 

            “That’s it,” said Jack. “The man back at Davies’s house. He was a guard in the Valiant.”

 

            “I guess is cockroach-stomping time, then,” said John. “Time’s a-wasting people. “ Let’s go.”

 

            “Gwen, Andy, you’re in charge of Isabella. Don’t argue,” Jack said to the professor, who was about to open her mouth. “You’re the only priest of Neith we have, remember? Ianto, John, guards are ours. Make as little noise as possible.”

 

            “And you’ll show me which end of the gun to point?” Ianto smirked. “We’ve all done this before, Jack. Go!”

 

            The cheap lock on the gate gave way easily under John’s skilled fingers.  The fight with the guards was short and sweet. Jack noticed Ianto had added a few more tricks to his repertoire. Damn he’s sexy. When this is all over, I’ve got to get him down to the training room.

 

            “Too easy,” John said. “It’s like they don’t care if we get in there.”

 

            “Maybe,” said Jack. “Or maybe they’re just not very good. Most of the guys up on the Valiant were not selected for their soldiering abilities. Mostly a bunch of sadistic ass-kissers.  And God, we’re all twenty-five years older.”

 

            “Uh-huh. You don’t mind if I stay suspicious, do you?”

 

            “Be my guest.”

 

            Jack kicked the warehouse door open. The room beyond was empty, and it reeked of mold and stagnant water. It was partially circled by a catwalk with open-thread stairs at either end, and several doors into the upper part of the building.  At the far end of the ground floor, another door was slightly open.

 

              Ianto and John raced up the catwalk stairs. All the upstairs doors led to what had once been offices, but were now dangerously unsafe, with exposed wiring and rotting floors. In the meantime, Jack, Gwen, and Andy had rushed Isabella to the relative safety of a corner at the other end of the room, underneath the catwalk, close to the door. She reached over and placed her hand on the door handle.

 

            “There’s a wrongness about this place.” She looked at Jack, her eyes full of unshed tears. "A violation of the laws of nature.”

 

            “That might be just me,” Jack muttered. At Isabella’s puzzled look, he shook his head. “Never mind. You didn’t mention you were a sensitive.”

 

            “Prerequisite for the priesthood of Neith.” She gave a bitter chuckle. “Until today I’ve only used it for family ceremonies and to separate real antiquities from the fakes.”

 

            “All clear upstairs,” John said and he and Ianto reached them. “And the prize is…”

 

            He pointed at the door next to them. Jack looked at it speculatively, and then pushed on it. It swung back noiselessly. The room beyond was wreathed in shadow except for the faint moonlight coming in through a window high up near the ceiling. They went in, Jack, Ianto, and John assuming the classic high-low positions while Gwen and Andy, their backs to them, protected their rear guard. 

 

            As they backed into the room, Gwen and Andy reached to either side of the door, feeling for a light switch. Gwen found and flipped it, flooding the room with stark while light.

 

            “Fucking hell,” Ianto’s harsh whisper spoke for all of them. “Bloody fucking hell.”

 

            The room had been rebuilt to resemble an Egyptian temple. Six columns with lotus capitals supported a non-existing roof. The walls were decorated with polychrome murals. At the far end, a massive gold-leafed throne chair was flanked by two full-size statues of the goddess Neith, pictured exactly as she appeared in the pectoral. Four other statues stood at each cardinal point.  In front of each, there was a small chair carved with lotus blossoms.

 

            In each chair sat a young girl dressed and elaborately made up in ancient Egyptian fashion. Their wrists were lashed to the arms of the chairs with tasselled gold cords. They sat, kohl-rimmed eyes wide open, staring at nothing, their beautiful features intact but desiccated, as if all the moisture had been drained from their bodies.

 

            “This is an obscenity,” Isabella said flatly.

 

            “I’d call it something a little stronger,” Andy said, “but obscenity will do.”

 

            “I’m not speaking of the girls, Andrew,” she said kindly. “That is an insult to the goddess, and those who participated in this are doubly damned to be forgotten both here and in the afterlife. Torchwood will avenge them, will you not?”

 

            “Oh yeah,” said Jack.

 

            “What do your mean by an obscenity, Bella?” asked Ianto.

 

            “This place. It’s wrong in every way.” She started moving in a wide circle. “We assume this place was set up to serve as a ceremonial precinct for the Awakening of Neith, yes?”

 

            “It would seem so,” Ianto said.

 

            “Neith’s ceremonies must be very precise. Each item in the temple, each word spoken, is chosen for a purpose, and if anything is missing the ceremony will not work. This is a mixture of true and false. The statues of Neith… why would you need them? She’s present in Her Eye. The cardinal gods are all god of death. Anubis, the God of mummification, who watches over the dead. Soker, Lord of the afterlife, who watches over the Pharaoh’s rebirth and the transfer of royal power. Amnut, the Goddess who devours the hearts of those who fail the test of the feather of Ma’at. But Set? At the earliest time, Set was one of the Great Ones, not just a brother-murderer. This is Ament’s place, She who greets the souls at the gates of the underworld. And look at this mural, Ianto. What do you see?”

 

            “Akhenaton… you’re right, that doesn’t make sense.”

 

            “Why not? He was a famous Pharaoh, right?” asked Andy.

 

            “Akhenaton tried to depose the Egyptian pantheon and replace it exclusively with the worship of Aton.” Ianto explained. “He would be anathema in the precinct of another God.”

 

            “So what the hell is going on here?” Gwen burst out. “Why do this? Stupidity? Ignorance?”

 

            “Neither,” said Isabella. “Since you told me about the girls, Jack, I’ve been trying to figure out why they would want to use this ceremony. It was performed once, and only once, in a desperate attempt to get the Eye to respond, and it failed. From what Ianto experienced in Alex’s study, the Eye is already awakening on its own. So why this now?”

 

            “You tell me,” said Jack.

 

            “Gwen and John were telling me about this thing you call the Rift.  It carries an immeasurable amount of power. If John’s legend is right, the Eye houses the… remains… of a very powerful being, encased in the remains of a living ship, and surrounded by a metal that is sentient and can be shaped into anything…”

 

            “Self-aware,” John said, “Not sentient. There’s a difference.”

 

            “Not much of one,” Ianto said suddenly, “if at least some of Neith’s consciousness is also within the Eye. Whatever I felt had knowledge, experience, and it knew exactly what it was looking for.”

 

            “So what if these madmen,” Isabella said, “Are trying to somehow bring Neith back to life? To… regenerate her, somehow?”

 

            Jack made a sound somewhere between a snarl and a sob. “Not Neith. The Master. Her husband. Lucy’s trying to regenerate the Master.”

 

            “But why would they need the girls?” Gwen asked. “If it’s not a sacrifice, what is it?”

 

            “Human DNA,” said Jack. “The Eye would need it for a template. Four sets of genes would give it enough variety to work from.”

 

            “But Saxon was a man!”

 

            “Why would that matter to him?” asked Jack angrily. “The consciousness in the Eye is not human, Gwen. Its strongest memories may be of being female, so it would probably be able to regenerate in that form best, but it doesn’t mean that is has to stay that way. Or maybe the Master thinks it’s the best place to hide for now. Who would associate a young welsh girl with a murdering Time Lord? Or maybe” his voice was suddenly weighed down with sadness, “Lucy has finally gone insane and all this is just the creation of a diseased imagination.”

 

            He bowed his head and turned away from them. Grief and tangled memory threatened to overwhelm him. So many years, and we’re still dealing with the consequences of the bastard’s actions. Of my actions. Lucy, oh Lucy.

 

            The scent of forest and ocean and delicious sweat that meant Ianto to him invaded his nostrils, and a strong hand clasped his. Jack clung tightly for a moment, drawing strength and courage and life from his lover’s touch.

 

            “But it’s failed already, hasn’t it?” Andy made a half-hearted gesture towards the bodies. “All this…”

 

            “I’m sorry Andrew, but no,” said Isabella. “In order for the ceremony to work properly, all four girls must be sacrificed at the same time. These girls died at different times.”

 

            “Three weeks, three Rift spikes, four girls.” said John. "They must have doubled-up the last time. That must have accounted for the extra bumps. But why?"

 

            “So this was for nothing?”

 

            “This was practice,” Jack said, releasing Ianto’s hand and turning back to them. “They were experimenting to see what would work.”

 

            The monstrosity of it all rendered them speechless for a moment. Into the silence came Martha’s voice, using the override codes to activate all the sets.

 

            “Jack. The Doctor’s on his way and he wants all of you back in the Hub. Now.”