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may show up something unexpected.’
    ‘Already tried it. Didn’t show anything.’ Gwen pursed her lips thoughtfully. ‘I wonder if that’s good or bad?’
    ‘You mean the whole thing may be a hoax after all?’
    ‘Or it could just be very, very well hidden.’
    Before Ianto could reply, his earpiece alerted him to a call from Captain Jack. ‘Ianto? I’m coming in and I’ve got company. Get a detention cell ready, will you?’
    ‘Successful fishing trip?’
    ‘You shoulda seen the one that got away.’

TEN
    Kerko flew across the cell and hit the wall, hard.
    Instantly he whirled around, fighting, but the door had already slammed shut and the sound of bolts being thrown echoed around the chamber.
    He pounded on the door, but it was useless. He was trapped. Imprisoned.
    Jack Harkness walked calmly around to the unbreakable transparent fourth wall of the cell and regarded the Blowfish coolly.
    ‘So this is it?’ Kerko blazed. ‘A Torchwood dungeon!’
    ‘This isn’t a dungeon,’ Jack said. ‘It’s a holding cell. We’ve got dungeons if you want ’em, though.’
    Kerko spat at him.
    Jack watched the yellow sputum slide down the plastic and shrugged. ‘Missed,’ he said.
    ‘You kill my brother and I end up in the slammer,’ the Blowfish snarled in disgust. ‘How does that work? It’s not fair. It’s not justice.’
    ‘Torchwood isn’t an agency of justice,’ Jack said. ‘We’re here to salvage any alien or anachronistic technology that comes through the Rift. Flotsam and jetsam from across time and space, washed up on our little patch of beach. Or as we like to call it, Cardiff.’
    ‘Bah.’ Kerko paced angrily around the cell.
    ‘We try to keep the twenty-first century smelling – however slightly – of roses,’ Jack went on, leaning casually against the wall. ‘So we utilise, catalogue, store or destroy anything that doesn’t belong here. Where do you think that leaves you , Kerko?’
    ‘Shit creek.’
    ‘You got it.’
    Kerko scowled. ‘You killed my brother, man. I’ll get you for that.’
    ‘Ain’t gonna happen, pal.’
    The Blowfish pressed his scarlet face against the wall, right next to Jack. His breath steamed against the plastic. ‘I’m gonna kill you. That’s a promise!’
    ‘Y’know what I hate, Kerko? The smell of bad fish. The sooner we get you into the freezer the better.’
    ‘Up yours.’
    Jack tapped on the glass. ‘I’ll be back soon to ask you some questions. Hope for your sake you’ve got some answers.’
    And then he turned and walked away, leaving Kerko to smash his fists against the cell walls and scream for revenge.
    Jack walked along the row of empty cells until he came to the last one. Gwen was standing in front of it, arms folded. She turned to look at him.
    ‘Blowfish hoodies? Really ?’
    ‘Better believe it. One ended up under a truck, though. Messy. Kerko back there is understandably upset. It was his brother.’
    ‘Oops.’
    Jack arched an eyebrow. ‘So when did you get so callous, Mrs Cooper?’
    ‘I can’t stand Blowfish,’ she replied. ‘Give me a Weevil any day – at least you know where you are with them. They don’t have an attitude, just bad breath and big teeth.’
    ‘Along with an insane urge to bite your head off. Some would call that attitude.’
    ‘Yeah, but they don’t argue with you.’
    Jack laughed. ‘Thing is, we’ve run right out of Weevils.’
    ‘Still no sightings?’
    ‘Nothing for the last fortnight. It’s like they’ve just disappeared – or gone underground. I mean, deeper underground.’
    ‘There must be a reason for that.’
    ‘Could be anything. Right now I’m just glad we’re not having to spend time rounding Weevils up.’
    Gwen pursed her lips, considering. ‘What are you going to do with your Blowfish, then?’
    ‘Well, short of having him stuffed and mounted – please, no jokes – freezing is about our only option.’ Jack frowned. ‘I want to question him first though, when he’s