EMAIL FROM OWEN
[ unsent email recovered from computer archive ]
Think think think. This is very important that I write this down as fast as possible and don’t lose a moment of it. No stop that owen, you’re rambling. Bit drunk. Hammered, actually. Look stop. Right.
Was in a bar, drinking – no surprise.
Got talking to this bloke – quiet old man of the old school. Bit like a bent teacher, but nice to talk to. Told him about Diane, about how I felt about work. Soon, you know I was spilling the beans about Torchwood. It was as though he *knew* about us
At first he laughed it off, said everyone in Cardiff knew about us, and that we were one of Wales’s best kept secrets. And that seemed okay – but I’m on my guard now. Especially after what happened to Tosh the other week – although there was *no way* I was gonna sleep with this bloke.
We talked about how the Bay changed over the years, and he told me about his shop – he runs one of those pointless antique parlours in one of the arcades. All very genial, and he brought me drinks, but there was something going on there.
As we talked on I found that I kept telling him stuff – he knew just what to ask, and the answers just kept slipping out. But the odd thing was… He really did know all about us – which is the creepiest thing. He was pumping me for information, just to check what he already knew!
I tried to leave, or shut up, but I couldn’t. I just sat there, blathering on.
“Of course, you realise by now that you’ve been drugged,” he said. The guy was actually smiling. “Quite a simply concoction, really. Sodium pentathol, a few stimulants… and all mixed with something I believe you’d know as ‘RetCon’.”
I stared at him. I would have killed him. But I just couldn’t move.
He stood up. “This has all been most useful. Pleasant dreams.”
I didn’t see him go.
But I’m writing this down. I’ll remember this. This is important. There’s someone out there who knows all about Torchwood, and he’s coming to get us.
[ email never sent ]