'Cold, isn't she?' sighed Jack. 'Comes in handy when winning people over.'

'Clearly,' muttered the steel soldier.

'Not married, either,' added Jack. 'I think she scares men off. You should put in a bid. She could do worse.'

Agnes glared at him.

Behind them the London skyline turned gently, and the crane jerked to a shuddering halt.

'We've arrived,' said the steel soldier.

'Your plan, please?' snapped Agnes.

'Simple,' replied the steel soldier. 'There is an anomaly above London. Over the East India Docks to be precise. It is currently sealed, but I am going to use this crane to activate it. That is no ordinary wrecking ball.'

'It wouldn't be,' sighed Jack.

'Probably contains a negative static electrical charge,' snapped Agnes.

The wrecking ball, swinging like a giant hypnotic pendulum began to crackle and sparkle with red and green light. It started to jump and jiggle up and down on its chain, as though being jerked by an invisible giant.

The steel soldier looked at her and chuckled. 'Science is clearly not your strong point, but if it makes you happy then yes. That ball is opening a rift. Unimaginable power will be mine for the taking, undreamt-of forces to unleash, and London will be destroyed. That will be my revenge on Torchwood for what they did to me. What have you to say to that?'

There was the tiniest of pauses. Agnes looked at Jack.

'Oh, Sir Jasper,' she said firmly.

Jack groaned. 'No, not that, please.'

Agnes smiled and sang in a voice used to bellowing hymns, 'Oh, Sir Jasper, do not touch me!'

'What?' asked the steel soldier.

The entire crane shuddered, buffeted by a sudden wind.

'What pa.s.ses in Victorian society for a s.m.u.tty ditty. You subtract a word with each line,' whispered Jack confidentially, shifting his balance carefully before singing back, 'Oh, Sir Jasper, do not touch!'

'I don't understand,' shouted the steel soldier, gripping Agnes's shoulder.

Wincing with pain, she sang out, 'Oh, Sir Jasper, do-oo not!'

Jack took a step to the right, the steel soldier jerking Agnes around as a shield. 'And here's where it gets fruity.' He called back, singing, 'Oh, Sir Jasper, do!'

Agnes kicked the steel soldier in the shin, bellowing, 'Oh! Sir Jasper!'

'Oh! Sir!' gasped Jack as the steel soldier punched him.

'Ohhhhhh!' trilled Agnes, ducking.

Jack rugby-tackled the steel soldier. A gun fired.

The steel soldier staggered towards the open door of the cabin, teetering on the brink. Jack lay sprawled on the floor.

Agnes straightened up, applying herself to the controls, throwing the cabin into a spin. 'Must. . . move. . . that ball away. . .'

'Too late,' grunted the steel soldier, trying to steady himself in the doorway.

'Nonsense,' snapped Agnes. 'Torchwood can easily contain a semi-active causal breach fifty storeys above the Docks. This is far from Doomsday.'

The steel soldier regained his balance, aiming his gun again. 'You really think so? You mad, self-deluding co-'

Suddenly up, Jack lunged. The two of them sailed out of the cabin.

Agnes concentrated on moving the crane, watching as the wrecking ball stopped glowing and reverted to dead iron. Once she was satisfied, she turned back to the cabin door and peered down.

Jack was gripping the edge of the doorframe with one hand, his face twisted with effort.

Holding on to Jack's ankle was the steel soldier, the iron bones of his hand cutting into the flesh.

Far down below them was a London pavement.

'And what do you propose I do about this, Captain Harkness?' asked Agnes wearily.

Jack smiled with effort. 'Get me up, get this clockwork soldier off my ankle.'

The steel soldier threw another arm up, seizing Jack's thigh with vice-like strength.

Agnes shrugged. 'Bad call,' she tutted, bringing her foot firmly down on Jack's hand. 'Happens to us all.'

Ianto caught up with Jack. He was standing watching the Vam slide down the road.

'Jack,' he said.

Jack nodded but didn't turn. 'Ianto?'

'I think, I really think that. . .'

The Vam oozed its way over traffic cones, twisting the crash barrier like paper.

'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 a.r.s.ehole 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 all the men in your life.' 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.