Risk Assessment (17 page)

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Authors: James Goss

Tags: #Science Fiction - High Tech, #Fiction - Science Fiction, #High Tech, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #General, #Science Fiction, #Science Fiction - General, #Media Tie-In, #Media Tie-In - General, #Fiction, #Science Fiction And Fantasy, #Children's Books - Young Adult Fiction, #Intelligence officers, #Harkness; Jack (Fictitious character), #Adventure, #Cardiff, #Wales, #Human-alien encounters

BOOK: Risk Assessment
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‘What?’ said Jack.

‘You might. . . I mean, I know that she wasn’t necessarily your favourite person, but. . . well, Gwen certainly. . .’

‘And?’ Jack was cold. ‘Awake forty-eight hours and she thinks she can solve global warming? She’s not worth your tears.’

‘You are such a sulky child.’ Ianto no longer bothered shouting when he was cross with Jack. ‘You’re hundreds of years old. . . People I was at school with were more emotionally mature than you, and they sniffed glue.’

Jack laughed softly. ‘Pritt stick?’

‘Copydex, actually, but the point is. . .’ Ianto tried to keep his anger, but it was running out.

‘You certainly had a wild time behind those bike sheds.’ Jack spun round, a warm smile on his face. He clapped Ianto on the shoulder, ruffling one ear with his fist. ‘Come on. I’ll put on a show of contrition for Gwen, and then it’s about time we saved the day.’

He walked Ianto across the car park. Ianto looked up at him. ‘And how are we going to do that?’

‘With the cavalry, of course, Ianto Jones.’

Agnes woke up.

‘My my,’ said the Vam. ‘This is curious.’

‘As Jonah stood inside the belly of the whale, so I, Agnes Havisham, am within the beast, bravely calling on the Almighty for deliverance,’ proclaimed Agnes, standing up.

All around her was the Vam, pulsing and surging in sticky darkness.

‘I do not understand your words,’ said the Vam, its voice ringing in her head.

‘Ah,’ said Agnes. ‘I see that you can make yourself understood after a fashion. When it pleases you.’

‘How are you still alive?’ it asked, petulantly.

Agnes tutted. ‘I pocketed a force-field generator. Squeeze as hard as you like, I venture I shall be safe for another quarter of an hour at least. Which is all I need.’

‘Explain more.’

‘Gladly. You understand the choice we offer you?’

‘Perpetual slavery in a pit or the chance to destroy you all?’

‘Well. . .’ Agnes tilted her head in disappointment. ‘That’s certainly one way of looking at it.’

‘The only way.’

‘Ye-es.’ Agnes was patient. ‘Only you would be of such value to us. And you would be enormously well fed and cared for.’

‘The Vam will not be a pet!’ the darkness roared.

‘Have it your way,’ she sighed. ‘Only. . . Well, what if we could destroy you?’

‘You have neither the plans nor the ability.’

‘True,’ said Agnes. ‘But I do not work alone. My colleagues disagree with me. One of them so strongly that he’s gone off by himself, so furious with me that he might just have come up with something that will polish you off. Might.’

‘You play a devious game. But no one, no thing, has ever won against the Vam.’

‘Ah yes – you gave us your name.’

‘I like worlds I am about to consume to know my name before they are destroyed. It is good for the name of the Vam to be feared, even if only for a short time before all who have heard it are crushed.’

‘Well, that’s ambitious, certainly,’ agreed Agnes. ‘But why?’

‘The Vam devours. That is all.’

‘And the coffins?’ Her voice hesitated. ‘Were they fighting against you?’

‘No. . .’ A pause. ‘They were merely in the Rift. I simply. . . chose one as a carrier.’

‘But why?’

Around her, the neat sphere of the force field flexed inwards alarmingly and the voice roared around her before forming bitter words. ‘The Vam was at a low ebb, adrift. . .’

‘You had been defeated?’

‘That information is not known. But the Vam has re-grown, will continue, will devour again.’

‘Or make a new start. Last chance,’ said Agnes.

‘I think not.’

‘Very well,’ said Agnes and, crossing her legs, sat down on the floor.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Waiting,’ said Agnes, simply, a trace of boredom in her voice. ‘I suspect we shan’t have long.’

Gwen sat on the remains of a brick wall, kicking her feet and watching the Vam slither along the road.

‘Cheer up, might never happen,’ came Jack’s voice.

Gwen sniffed, wiped her nose, and replied, ‘Of all the annoying arsehole things to say—’

‘I know.’ His voice was soft. He flung an arm round her shoulder. She looked up and realised his other arm was wrapped round Ianto. ‘What is this?’ she asked. ‘Group hug or rugby scrum?’

‘Either is fine,’ said Ianto.

Jack winked. In the distance, Gwen thought she could – just – hear sirens and the roar of engines.

‘Gwen Cooper,’ said Jack, squeezing her tight. ‘Today is a day for you to be proud of
all
the men in your life.’

Gwen stared at him for a second. Jack could almost see the arithmetic going on behind her eyes. When she counted to three, she turned and looked again at the road. ‘Rhys. . .’ she breathed, excited and alarmed.

Jack leaned over and whispered in her ear. ‘If he survives this, please don’t kill him,’ he said.

Rhys sat up in the first truck, the small stubby device clamped on the bonnet next to a mud-spattered teddy bear. He turned to the driver, a grim-faced man who was managing to drive while making a roll-up.

‘You not going to light that, are you?’ he asked.

Huw the driver chuckled deeply. ‘My truck,’ he said.

‘Yeah,’ said Rhys. ‘But company law actually forbids. . .’

Huw raised the cigarette to his lips.

‘. . .  health and safety,’ Rhys finished feebly. ‘Oh, go on.’

‘We’re there, mate,’ Huw said. Lighting up.

‘I am such a softie,’ Rhys sighed. He switched on the communicator Jack had given him. ‘Ah, Axl Rose to Red Hot Command. Chilli Peppers are in position. We are ready to rock. Over.’

Huw snorted loudly. Rhys glared at him. ‘Could you wind down that window? Slightly asthmatic.’

Huw saluted with the cigarette. ‘Aye aye, sir.’

Gwen listened to her radio in disbelief. ‘What did Rhys just say?’

‘I picked the names,’ said Jack defensively. ‘Not my fault he fell for them.’

Ianto smiled. ‘Well, I think we’re all pleased you’ve got over your Abba fixation.’

‘Oh, come on,’ said Jack. ‘What’s the point of Rhys if we can’t have a little fun with him?’

Gwen looked at the swollen tumour of the Vam, shuddering as it slid down towards Cardiff. Then she saw the smile on Jack’s face, and she grinned too. ‘I don’t know what you’ve got planned. . .’

‘No one ever does. That’s my charm.’

‘. . .  but can I issue the order?’ Her voice glittered dangerously.

Jack looked at the six trucks bearing down on the Vam from both sides of the road. ‘Go on.’

Gwen reached for her radio.

‘This is Groupie One to Axl Rose and the Chilli Peppers. Let’s make some noise!’

Gwen’s voice filled the cabin. Rhys gave a little whoop and flicked a switch connected to the tiny stubby little thing on the front of his truck.

And the world shuddered. The air around the Vam rippled like a hot day. And the noise! Or rather it wasn’t so much a noise as. . . Gwen tried to focus on what was happening, but her eyes danced in her head, the fluid in her eyeballs shaking. In the watering distance she could see the road, the trucks and the Vam, but everything danced and bulged. And the noise built and built in her head, like an untuned radio echoing and echoing over and over.

‘. . .  8. . . 9. . .’ yelled Rhys. The earphones were in place but still he was trying not to cry out at the sound rattling his brain.

‘10!’ he shouted.

And then cut the switch.

Huw stubbed out his cigarette and grinned. ‘Phew,’ he said.

Ianto and Gwen ran to keep up with Jack. They were converging on the Vam which still twisted and shuddered. Jack was rattling off an explanation as he thundered across the tarmac.

‘Not a lot of people know this, but forty years ago the good people of Mars tried invading. Fiiinally. Nobility factor: 10, but Resistance to Flame Throwers: 1. They had these really neat sonic cannons on their armour. Now, I figured, that thing is basically just vicious jelly. And what does jelly do best? Wobble. And we also learnt that the Vam is protected through a network of tightly woven molecules which. . .’

‘Vibrate!’ yelled Gwen.

‘And, if you can make them vibrate all the more with a good whack of sound, then. . .’

‘We can destroy it.’

Jack shook his head. ‘Sadly, no. This thing is much better than that. But we can use a few blasts to keep it confused. It will fight back, but if we can make it think that this is the best we’ve got. . .’

As they pelted up to it, the side of the Vam split like a ripe apricot, revealing Agnes Havisham sitting cross-legged on the road.

Brushing invisible dirt from herself, she smiled broadly. ‘Captain,’ she beamed. ‘I knew you could always be relied upon to betray me.’

‘I’m an open book to you, Agnes,’ said Jack with mock hurt. ‘Hug?’

Agnes stood up. ‘Not just now, thank you,’ she tutted, ‘My personal force field is still on.’

Jack nodded. ‘Thought you’d have something like that.’

‘Nonsense,’ Agnes chuckled. ‘You hoped I would give it indigestion.’

Jack gave a shrug.

Gwen was hugging Rhys as he climbed down from the truck.

‘Not in trouble am I?’ he laughed.

‘Oh, bloody loads,’ she assured him.

Ianto Jones stood alone in front of the beast.

‘Er,’ he said. ‘It’s not dead yet.’

‘Didn’t doubt that for a moment,’ boomed Jack. ‘Great big space blob like that? It wouldn’t be giving us the whole “None-who-hear-my-name-shall-live” nonsense if it could be carried off by a sonic blast. I can name at least two people who would have tried that first off. But I figured it’s had to rebuild itself, so it would be weak.’

Jack was right. The Vam was weak and reeling and surprised. It had been a long time since someone had. . . How long? No answer rattled back along its molecular network. It sensed a weakness and it rallied. It grouped all its strength into its external shielding and reared up. It would crush these specimens, and make an example. The Vam must show no mercy!

Rhys stood watching the shuddering mass.

Huw leaned out of the cab. ‘Don’t get too close, mate, will you?’ he said.

Rhys looked at it. Nothing more than several tonnes of foul jelly. He had an idea. Jack had said something about a protective shield. He wondered. . .

‘Huw, mate?’ he called up to the cab. ‘Don’t suppose you’ve got a match, have you?’

Gwen yelled with fear and anger as the lit match dropped onto the quivering mass of the Vam.

Thankfully, nothing happened. The external energy net remained intact.

‘Hmm,’ said Jack. ‘There’s a reason we don’t use him for intelligence operations.’

‘So,’ said Agnes. ‘We give the creature one more chance?’

Jack looked at her in surprise. ‘Someone is giving monsters an easy time these days.’

Agnes risked a rueful grin. ‘We could let it eat Cardiff and then see if it wants to talk. If only we could harness it. . .’

Jack nodded. ‘I know. But humanity’s got itself into such a mess with the climate. . . Well, they don’t deserve an easy way out of it. Especially not one that gives them all the oil they could want.’

‘You’ll get letters for that,’ admonished Agnes gently.

‘Hush,’ sighed Jack. ‘Let’s kill El Blobbo Magnifico.’

The Vam heaved itself up over them, wobbling fiercely.

‘I trust you have a plan, Harkness?’ asked Agnes.

‘Yup,’ said Jack. He pulled a small device from his greatcoat pocket. ‘Welcome to a miracle of modern medicine. You see—’

The Vam towered until it blocked out the sky and then began to pour down towards them.

‘Explain later,’ snapped Agnes.

Jack aimed the machine and pushed a button. ‘Bleep,’ he said.

‘Behold the feast of the Vam!’ roared the Vam happily to itself.

Ianto’s worst ever birthday party had included a food fight.

Watching drunken, rowing parents throw trifle at each other in a screaming fury while he gathered his friends to him, shielding as many as possible from being hit by a stray pickled onion. He never ever wanted to see that much mess covering so many people again.

Gwen had always loved that moment in
Carry On
s when Sid James fell into slurry, before emerging, wiping slime from his face while laughing his cheap-fag laugh.

Captain Jack Harkness had stared death in the face so many times. But it had so many faces, he never got bored of it.

Agnes Havisham wished she’d brought her parasol with her.

Much to its own surprise, the Vam died.

It exploded in a shuddering tower of black sticky diesel that spread out in a whirling oily mist that poured up across the road, the surrounding grass banks, and covered a nearby beach. After billions of deaths across millennia, the Vam ended suddenly in a foul-smelling cloud that drifted across about three miles.

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