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CONSPIRATORS.
AND OTHERS.
In which Miss Havisham has a meeting with remarkable trees, and Little Dorrit's secret is finally revealed 'Shall we take tea?' ventured George Herbert Sanderson nervously.
'Are you kidding? I'm so full of the stuff I'm sloshing. What the h.e.l.l is going on here?'
George Herbert looked as though he had never, ever been spoken to like this by a woman.
'Come now. Perhaps a little refreshment, my dear?' he pressed on, good manners prevailing over a face that was thoroughly taken aback. He called up to the ceiling. 'Bramwell, a pot of tea in the Observatory, if you wouldn't mind.'
'Of course, sir,' oozed the computer.
George Herbert rubbed his hands together. 'Splendid. Come along.'
He steered a fuming Gwen over the threshold and into a room which offered an even more jaw-dropping view of the Earth. As they climbed up a spiral iron staircase to a table laden with paper charts, Gwen noticed a tea trolley sidling un.o.btrusively into view. 'Sit down! Sit down!' George Herbert ordered, making a small attempt at tidying up the charts, but failing dismally. He sighed and sat down, absently drumming his fingers on the desk.
Gwen mastered her fury and went with her biggest smile. 'You are who I think you are, aren't you?' she said.
'What?' George Herbert seemed to have his mind elsewhere, and splashed tea everywhere as he poured. 'Oh, right, yes, Miss Havisham and I are betrothed, indeed. Have been for over one hundred years. Goodness, sounds funny when you put it like that. I am the luckiest man alive. Battenberg?'
Gwen waved away the plate, kept her smile in place, and gave George Herbert a piercing look. 'Aren't you supposed to be at the other end of the universe?'
'Nonsense! What a preposterous notion! Why, the universe is so appallingly big, whereas I was merely visiting a spot a few solar systems away. Practically next door.'
'But it still took you a hundred years to get there.'
'More or less, ah yes.' George Herbert looked a little uncomfortable.
'And yet not so long to get back.'
'Not so long, no. Bramwell was able to piggyback us through your Rift, weren't you?'
'Indeed sir.'
'Splendid fellow. Talented cook, excellent navigator, but,' he leaned forward confidentially, 'sadly predictable at draughts.'
'Right,' Gwen pressed on, eagerly. 'This is brilliant news, isn't it? Does Agnes know you're back?'
'Ah. . .' said George Herbert hesitantly. 'Yes. Yes she does.'
'She does?' exclaimed Gwen. 'But she must be overjoyed, I mean, you're back! Early! You know. . . How long has she known?'
George Herbert whistled a broken bit of Gilbert and Sullivan. 'I am afraid she's known for quite some time. You see, ah, I'm sure she won't mind me mentioning this, but I have been back for several days.'
'But,' said Gwen, 'when she told me about you, she said you were a long way away and. . . Days?'
'Days,' nodded George Herbert apologetically.
'But why hasn't she... ? I mean...'
'I am sorry,' repeated George Herbert sadly. 'This must be quite a shock for you.'
'Well, yes, but not as much as it must be for her. I mean, surely she's overjoyed. You both must be.'
George Herbert looked anything but overjoyed. His face drooped like a donkey's. 'Things are, I rather regret, complicated.'
Gwen laughed. 'I'm sure she's not met someone else! She thinks the world of you.'
George Herbert winced at the phrase. 'I'm saddened to say that she is responsible for your current predicament.'
'Yeah,' huffed Gwen. 'I'd gathered that. Somehow. I mean, I guessed it would be something like that. I'm not stupid. I figured it was because you wanted to surprise her, but, hang on, that doesn't fit now, does it?'
George Herbert shook his head. 'I am so dreadfully sorry. She ordered you brought here.'
'What?' gasped Gwen.
'What the h.e.l.l is going on?' shouted Jack Harkness.
A hundred guns immediately pointed in his direction.
'Wait!' yelled Agnes, a gloved hand raised. 'Don't kill him. Well, I mean to say, you can't kill him. Just don't shoot. Thank you.'
Ignoring the mildly confused xXltttxtolxtol troops, Jack bore down on Agnes, his gun waving like an exclamation mark. 'You organised all this? The coffins? The Vam?'
The xXltttxtolxtol commander looked at Agnes enquiringly and then back at Jack. The way his gun moved said clearly, 'Surely you would like me to kill him?'
Agnes looked Jack directly in the eyes and inclined her head slightly. 'I am responsible for rescuing the xXltttxtolxtol, yes. I am shocked and really must protest at the accusation that I had anything to do with the Vam. That excrescence simply hitched a ride in the Rift.'
'But what,' asked Ianto reasonably, 'are these xXlttxt. . . creatures doing here?'
'It's xXltttxtolxtol, dear, and it's quite simple.'
'They're invading,' growled Jack.
Agnes laughed dismissively. 'Nonsense. That's not it at all. Isn't that right, er. . .?'
'My name is zZxgbtl of the xXltttxtolxtol.'
'Of course, it would be,' trilled Agnes. 'And this isn't an invasion. The very idea!'
'You see,' said George Herbert, 'it took me many years to reach the planet that the drive came from that this ship is built around. Of course, time pa.s.ses inside this craft at a different rate. Agnes told me the other week that it's since been discovered and explained by a clever Jew scientist, but back then we just had to make a few educated guesses. Honestly, ninety per cent of this craft is food. Bramwell is terrified of it all going to waste, you know. Biccie?'
Gwen waved the plate away.
'So,' the scientist continued, 'I sailed off in my rocket ship, you know, keen to take the Empire out into the universe. Bit of enlightened self-interest, don't you know. Set up a trading partnership, that kind of thing. I mean, the message that we found with the drive unit was in effect that we'd learn something to our mutual advantage by visiting, so it seemed rude to ignore the invite.'
'Eh?' said Gwen.
'Well, the drive unit was part of a probe that crashed. The drive itself survived rather well, along with a full set of formulae that were reasonably easy to decipher. It was effectively a set of coordinates, together with instructions for building a ship around the drive unit. And that's an invitation, clear as day. Well, old Ralston Baines argued that it was more of a "if this probe should dare to roam, box its ears and send it home" kind of ballyhoo, but I overruled him, and got the grand wave from the old Regina to set sail for Planet X.'
Gwen blinked.
'That's what we're calling it, you see. Good name, eh? So, off I set. And when I arrived, you know, I met the natives and they were friendly blighters. Odd-looking fellows but jolly eager to learn English and all about the Earth. You see, the xXltttxtolxtol-'
'Oh' said Gwen, realising that, despite what Jack had told her, Welsh was not the hardest language in the galaxy.
'Yes, ah, yes, well, turns out they were in a bit of a pickle. Hence sending out all the probe things. Their planet is dying only a few thousand years left in the old gal. So they were looking for likely other worlds to live on apart from doomed Planet X. The idea being that either a probe would find somewhere, or an obliging species with a spare bunk would get the message and pitch up with a set of keys.'
Gwen wondered at this. How much of this did Agnes know? How long had this been planned?
'So when I turned up, all pith helmet and Rule Britannia, they knew they were onto a good thing if they played their cards right. And I chatted about this to Aggie, and she happened to mention the dear old Cardiff Rift, which, with a few equations, the top xXltttxtolxtol boffins were able to turn into a neat little s.p.a.ce warp, enabling me to set off with a few chums and get here early. Brilliant plan.' And here his face fell. 'Only. . .'
'They've got guns,' said Jack.
Agnes wasn't fazed. 'Of course they've got guns, Captain. The xXltttxtolxtol have only just met us and they're not sure of their welcome. Especially not with you waving your firearm about like a nursery rattle.'
'Those are very big guns,' said Jack.
'Agreed,' said Ianto.
'Then our welcome must be even bigger!' beamed Agnes. 'Dear zZxgbtl! How was your journey? You must be tired. You'll want a rest and a chance to get your bearings before I show you to your Guatemala.'
'I beg your pardon?' said Jack while zZxgbtl swayed in the breeze.
'Guatemala! It's a chunk of the Earth that I identified as most compatible with the xXltttxtolxtol's own environment, whilst not being terribly important. There's really not that many of them, and they'll fit in jolly well.'
'What. . . about. . .' Jack spoke slowly, 'the. . . people. . . of. . . Guatemala?'
Agnes shrugged. 'They'll have to budge up and put up. But it'll be of enormous advantage to us. And, as I said, it's not exactly a country that's really contributing at the moment. This is their chance to do their bit.'
'I'm sure they'll be thrilled,' whispered Ianto.
'Oh absolutely.' Agnes had heard him. 'Imagine what they have to offer. The xXltttxtolxtol are renowned poets, skilled gardeners, and wonderful scientists.'
'With very large guns,' repeated Jack.
Agnes finally snapped. 'This is rot and will stop at once. Aliens should be dealt with intelligently and creatively, not as some kind of utility menace. It's childish.'
'First you hugged the killer blob, now this,' Jack was bitter. 'I actually preferred you in the old days.'
As Agnes and Jack stood there bickering on the beach, the xXltttxtolxtol had shuffled to form a rough, interested circle around them. And now zZxgbtl spoke.
'If I might intrude upon the debate,' it said. 'The stupid male is actually right.'
Agnes's face fell. 'Oh,' she said.
'You see,' sighed George Herbert, 'I tried to warn her. Underneath that armour plating, Agnes has actually got such a sweet, trusting nature. We were both totally taken in, I fear.'
Gwen realised she was listening to the s.p.a.ce equivalent of an email from a friendly Nigerian businessman requesting the temporary transfer of your bank details for an offer of mutual advantage. She smiled sympathetically.
'Sadly, by the time I realised that the xXltttxtolxtol were something of a threat, the coffins had already turned up and I was already here. Things had moved jolly quickly. It was all rather too advanced. I took the shuttle down to warn her that there was something fishy about them, but you turned up.'
'What?' said Gwen. 'This is my fault?'
'Well, yes, my dear. Agnes was so worried she'd miss the rendezvous with the shuttle that she wasn't as careful as she normally was. I was about to tell her everything when you turned up, and she knocked you out and ordered me to bring you up here out of the way.'
'I have a husband,' said Gwen. 'I've been gone days. Do you know how worried he'll be?'
George Herbert winced. 'I can only imagine and sympathise, but we couldn't leave you down there, and we just couldn't bear to kill you.' He leaned forward. 'Agnes really rather adores you, you know. As I said, soft as a kitten.' And he chortled fondly, spearing a crumpet on a toasting fork.
Gwen boggled at him. 'So while everyone I love is hopefully going nuts with worry and the Earth is being invaded, I'm stuck up here watching you toast crumpets?'
George looked up from the fire he was holding the crumpet over. 'Ahhh, yes. Succinctly put. But I can't see what else to do. Agnes is down there, on the ground. I'm hoping she'll sort out something clever. She's honestly magnificent in a crisis.'
'She had b.l.o.o.d.y better be,' growled Gwen.
zZxgbtl of the xXltttxtolxtol advanced slowly forward with a menacing hop, tendrils trailing through the sticky diesel remnants of Vam scattered across the beach.
Creaking branches whipped up into the air, caressing Agnes's face. She didn't flinch, but stared straight at it.
'We are the bridgehead,' it said. 'Now we are here we shall send the signal of safe arrival back to our planet and then stabilise the Rift, allowing the proper invasion to begin. You may watch before you suffer the symbolic death of traitors. Bind them!'
Jack raised his gun, but a branch lashed out and s.n.a.t.c.hed it from him.
'Great,' said Jack.
The strange, sharp, alien trees pressed in around them, rustling and twitching and occasionally prodding them with nightmarish th.o.r.n.y vines.
And then branches and creepers lashed out, wrapping round them and dragging each of them up onto the back of a xXltttxtolxtol, sap spreading and sticking over their clothes. Ianto whimpered as gelatinous trails seeped into the fabric of his suit. Despite himself, Jack grinned. He suspected Ianto was more worried about the dry-cleaning bill than death.
Jack fought against the bonds, but the more he struggled, the tighter the branches wrapped themselves around him. Soon his torso was completely secured.
He looked across at Agnes. She stood like a statue, trussed up ready for careful shipping. He couldn't decide if it was stoicism or defeat.
Once the binding was finished, the other xXltttxtolxtol shuffled away, leaving them planted on the beach like three witches ready for a burning.
zZxgbtl of the xXltttxtolxtol surveyed them, its booming whisper of a voice sc.r.a.ping across the bay. 'You shall remain like this and you shall watch us destroy the world you have given to us. And then you shall beg to suffer the death of traitors.' And, for the first time in Jack Harkness's long life, he heard a tree laugh. And then it dragged itself away.
For a moment the three were silent, half-standing, half-crouching together, bound to their immobile wooden guardians.
And then Agnes spoke.
'Oh dear. I had planned this so very carefully,' she said quietly. She was looking sadly out to sea. 'Honestly. I advised them on the construction of the coffins so that Torchwood would be unable to a.n.a.lyse them. I told them all about the Rift, I even set the alarms to be triggered by their arrival. My one worry was that Torchwood One would work out what was going on, but thankfully they're gone which only left you, and pulling the wool over your eyes was always child's play.'
Jack looked sharply at Agnes. 'You never cease to betray me.'
Agnes flashed a slightly queasy grin. 'It's always been so easy to fool you, I just can't help myself. And I was so pleased that I never considered I was being taken advantage of.' She kicked angrily at the sand with a loose foot.