(Music playing. An old man is snoring. Door opens. Walking into a room.)

SIAN: Still up, are you? Mr Williams? Mr Williams?
BRYN: Oh, it's you, Sian. Just resting my eyes.
SIAN: The others went up ages ago. Come on, shake a leg.
BRYN: Betty could stop up after midnight at Colditz.
SIAN: Very funny.
BRYN: I've always been a night owl, you see.
SIAN: Even night owls have to go to bed eventually.
BRYN: Just let me listen to the shipping forecast, eh? Takes me back to my seafaring days.
FITZROY: (radio) And now the shipping forecast as issued by the Met Office...
SIAN: Okay. But it's straight to bed after.
FITZROY: (radio)... on behalf of the Maritime and Coastguard Agency...
SIAN: I'll turn it up for you.
FITZROY: (radio)... at double oh one five... (Louder) on Wednesday the Tenth of November.
SIAN: Night, Mr Williams.
BRYN: Good night, Sian.
FITZROY: (radio) Warnings of gales in Dover, Wight, Portland, Plymouth, Trafalgar, and FitzRoy.

(The door closes.)

FITZROY: (radio) FitzRoy. Good evening, Bryn.
BRYN: Huh? Who said that?
FITZROY: Listen to me, Bryn Williams. You have a decision to make.
BRYN: What?
FITZROY: A decision that will change your life.
BRYN: Who are you? Where are you hiding?

(Low howling wind in the background of Fitzroy's voice.)

FITZROY: Imagine being young again, Bryn. Imagine leaving this place. Being free of pain. Being young again. And all you have to do is make a pact with me. It's really very simple.
BRYN: I don't make pacts. That's what you do with the Devil. Is that who you are?
FITZROY: One more chance. Say yes to me, and you can be young and strong again.
BRYN: No. Now, leave me alone. Go away.
FITZROY: You'll be sorry for that. You will not get your life back. In fact, for refusing me, what little you have of it left, I will now take away. Prepare to die, Bryn. To die alone, forgotten, slumped in that chair. (echoes) Die alone, and in agony.

(Tapping on keyboard.)

GWEN: Come on.

(Phone ringing.)

GWEN: Come on... Can you get that, Rhys?
RHYS: Yeah, sure.
GWEN: Oh, this Internet.

(Windows Error noise.)

GWEN: This Internet's driving me mad! Can't get it to connect.
RHYS: Hello? Yeah, speaking.
GWEN: Yeah, it's been playing up all week. I'll have to call them.
RHYS: Right. I see.

(Furious tapping on keyboard.)

RHYS: Okay, I'll be straight over. Erm... thanks for letting me know. Bye.

(Receiver replaced.)

GWEN: What's the matter?
RHYS: It's my Great Uncle Bryn. He's died.
GWEN: Oh, I'm so sorry.
RHYS: They want me at the nursing home right away, to collect his things and that.
GWEN: It's all right, love. Look, we'll go together.

(Outside. A street. Doorbell ring, and knocking on door.)

RHYS: When I was a kid, he was always telling these long stories, from all his merchant Navy days.

(Gwen chuckles.)

RHYS: I never paid much attention. Wish I had, though.
GWEN: Oh, you never do at that age. No good beating yourself up.
RHYS: I mean, the stuff he must have got up to. All gone now, of course.
GWEN: Mm.

(Door unlocked and opened.)

SIAN: Hi. Can I help you?
RHYS: Yeah. Rhys Williams. We spoke on the phone earlier about my uncle?
SIAN: Of course. I'm Sian Pearce, senior carer. Come in.

(Walking in.)

SIAN: We're very sorry for your loss. Bryn was a lovely man.

(Door closed.)

RHYS: What actually, you know, finished him off?
SIAN: We're not sure. The doctor's report isn't in yet. He's been taken to the Willis Evans funeral home. Now, if you can sign these forms, I'll fetch his belongings.

(Walking off.)

RHYS: Hope I don't end up somewhere like this.
GWEN: Mm. Well, seems like a friendly enough place.
RHYS: Bet Bryn would have been happier at home, though.
OLD LADY: They never stay more than five minutes these days.
RHYS: Can we help you, love?
OLD LADY: They keep leaving, you see. Always leaving.
GWEN: Who's leaving?
OLD LADY: Death's door one minute, fit as a fiddle the next. Gone back home, they have, back to their jobs. Esme - she went. So did Mrs Heller. And that nice Indian man. I can't remember his name. Oh - and even Miss Carew, and she was very ill. A smart lady, Miss Carew, very clever. Just like you, dear.
SIAN: Now then Mrs Roberts, back to the lounge. They're just about to start the nature talk. That's right.
OLD LADY: I'm talking...
SIAN: Off you go.
OLD LADY: (fading) I'm talking, I don't want to go...
GWEN: What was that all about?
SIAN: Oh, don't worry about Mrs Roberts. She gets a bit confused. A lot of them do here, I'm afraid. Still, they're well looked after.

(Bag unzipped.)

SIAN: Right. Here's Mr Williams' belongings. Can you manage okay?
GWEN:/RHYS: Yes.
RHYS: Fine, Thank you.
GWEN: Thank you.

(Alarm sounds.)

SIAN: Oh! Sorry, that's the fire alarm. Every time there's one of these power surges, sets off the alarm. That's the fourth one this week.

(Alarm stops. They sigh.)

SIAN: That's better.
WOMAN: Sian, is there a fire?
SIAN: I'm sorry. I'd better go.
WOMAN: Sian?
SIAN: Are you all right to see yourselves out?
RHYS: Yeah, no worries.
SIAN: Goodbye, then.
GWEN: Bye.
RHYS: Bye. Bye. Thank you.

(Door closed. He sighs.)

RHYS: Guess I've got some phone calls to make when we get home.
GWEN: Mm. Rhys, what do you think that old lady meant by them all leaving?
RHYS: She probably meant they'd, you know, passed away. Poor old girl.

(Mobile phone message tone)

GWEN: Oh, sorry.
RHYS: Who's texting?
GWEN: Jack. I'm needed at the Hub.

JACK: Well, sounds like you've had a fun morning.
GWEN: Why is there always that weird smell in old people's homes?
IANTO: That, I suspect, is the old people.
GWEN: No, it's like, I don't know - oh! Steak and kidney pudding gone off?
JACK: I keep well clear of those kind of places.
GWEN: Worried they'll guess your age and drag you in?
IANTO: He doesn't want to run into yet another old flame.

(Gwen laughs.)

JACK: Er, can you two stop ganging up on me? I do the sarcasm around here.

(Rhythmic beeps.)

IANTO: Ah. There it is again, Jack. A power loss. Only for a split second but it's enough to register.

(Keyboard tapping.)

JACK: And look. It's getting fractionally longer each time.
GWEN: Right. Explains why my Internet's been a nightmare recently. Well, you know, more of a nightmare than usual.
IANTO: I guess because we're all so used to technology letting us down from time to time, no-one's picked up on it yet.
JACK: But why is this happening?

(Fizzing of electricity.)

GWEN: Oh! Oh, great.

(Jack sighs too.)

GWEN: So even the Hub's not immune?
JACK: Shouldn't we be protected from power cuts, Ianto?
IANTO: Sorry Jack, but electricity has to come from somewhere. It can't come from Outer Space.
JACK: Maybe we should explore that option? It'd certainly lower our bills.

(Bleeps.)

IANTO: Oh!
GWEN: Ah, look - fixed. What did you do, Ianto?
IANTO: Nothing. Came back on by itself.
JACK: This is alien. If we're going to get to the bottom of these blackouts, the Hub's got to be functioning perfectly.
IANTO: Where are you off?
JACK: To install new backup power sources.

(Walking off.)

IANTO: I hate it when he gets all technological. It's like putting a five year old in charge of Jodrell Bank.
GWEN: Ianto, can you do me a favour?
IANTO: Yeah, sure. What is it?
GWEN: Hack into the system at Ivyday Nursing Home in Penarth.

(Keyboard tapping.)

GWEN: Yeah, I want the records for Miss Carew.
IANTO: And what's she got to do with all this?
GWEN: Just something one of the residents said to me while I was there this morning. It's only a hunch, but - I don't know. I just like to check out my hunches, that's all.

(Zapping sounds presumably to represent computer bringing up results on the screen.)

IANTO: Here you go. Joanna Carew, born 1930, Newport. Checked herself out of Ivyday three weeks ago. She's now back at work as an MD at First Valley Computing in Crickhowell.
GWEN: At work? But she's in her eighties.
IANTO: That's only the half of it. It says here that three months ago she was diagnosed with terminal heart disease. But she can't be connected with the power cut, surely?
GWEN: Maybe not, but I think I'm going to pay Miss Carew a visit.

(Outside. Running on spot, voice heard through headphones.)

MISS CAREW: Look, I'm in the middle of a workout. Look, I can't hear you, you're breaking up. Oh.
GWEN: Er... Miss Carew, could I have a word, please?
MISS CAREW: Oh, don't you hate these gadgets.
GWEN: (laughs) Yeah. Never a moment's peace, eh?
MISS CAREW: The world without the mobile phone would be a marvellous place.
GWEN: Oh, yeah. But you run a computing firm, right? Thought you'd love technology.

(Running stops.)

MISS CAREW: I'm sorry, have we met?
Gwen (sigh.) Not yet. Erm, I'm Gwen Cooper. You're... Joanna, right?
MISS CAREW: I prefer "Miss Carew." And I'm trying to exercise, if you don't mind.

(Running on spot starts up again. Gwen gentle laugh)

GWEN: You're pretty fit for someone who's in her eighties.
MISS CAREW: That sounds rather patronising.
GWEN: Oh, sorry. Didn't mean it to. Erm, I was just impressed.
MISS CAREW: Who are you?

(Running stops.)

GWEN: Oh! Okay. I'll come clean. Erm... I'm a journalist, and I'm doing a piece on high-achieving older women.
MISS CAREW: Journalists usually contact our Press officer first.
GWEN: Well, I'm unusual, I'm a rookie. (Laugh.) And I want to get to know the real Miss Carew.
MISS CAREW: Well, as you already know I'm the founder and MD of First Valley Computing. We create systems for utility companies. Come on, surely you've looked at our website.
GWEN: It's actually the more personal side I'm interested in.
MISS CAREW: Oh yes?
GWEN: Yeah, like - why you came back to work after you'd retired.
MISS CAREW: I'm allowed to change my mind. As you noticed, I'm still fit and healthy.
GWEN: But there was a time very recently, wasn't there, when you weren't?
MISS CAREW: Look, Miss Cooper, my health is no concern of yours, and this conversation is over.
GWEN: Well, hold on, hold on. Hold on, I haven't finished yet. You were in Ivyday Nursing Home for nearly a year, then all of a sudden you're back running your company. How come?
MISS CAREW: Who are you?
GWEN: I told you, I'm Gwen Cooper. And I've just been jogging round a sports field with an eighty-one year old who two weeks ago was in an old folks' home with terminal heart disease.
MISS CAREW: Very well. If you insist on talking, we can go and do so in my office.

(Moving something heavy.)

JACK: Oh! That ought to fix it. Now even if the entire western world comes to a technological standstill, the Hub should still be up and running.

(Tapping on keyboard.)

IANTO: Jack, it looks like that just might happen.
JACK: Whoah, why? What have I missed?
IANTO: There are now power blackouts all around the country, and it's not just the UK. Looks like it's spreading into Europe too. And the electricity companies are just as baffled as we are.
JACK: There's got to be something behind it, but what?
IANTO: I've noticed that every time there's a loss of electricity, there's like a weird surge immediately afterwards.
JACK: What do you mean, "surge"?
IANTO: Look at this, Jack. See the dip? Then look at the spike. It precisely mirrors the energy loss. As if something is responding to the power cuts.
JACK: Or feeding off them.
IANTO: How can you feed off nothing, negative?
JACK: Maybe if we can isolate the source of these surges, we'll be able to stop this thing before it goes global.

MISS CAREW: What do you want to know, Miss Cooper?
GWEN: I want to know why someone with heart disease can go straight back to a high pressure job like this.
MISS CAREW: I'm better. People do recover from illnesses.
GWEN: But you'd stopped receiving treatment, and your condition was terminal.
MISS CAREW: Oh, that's absolute nonsense.
GWEN: I checked your records. So, don't try denying it. You were going to die, now look at you - you're as fit as a twenty year-old. How is that possible?
MISS CAREW: I don't know. Maybe is was a miracle. I just got better. All I know is, I'm back in the race again and that feels great.
GWEN: Hmm.
MISS CAREW: I suppose you'd prefer it if I'd been left to rot in that geriatric hell-hole.
GWEN: Er... Of course not. Look, did something happen to you at Ivyday Nursing Home?
MISS CAREW: I don't know what you mean. And if you'll excuse me, I have work to do. This company needs sorting out. Things have gone out of control since I went away.
GWEN: How do you mean, out of control?

(MISS CAREW sighs, lifts receiver.)

MISS CAREW: Janine, could you send for Security, please?

(Receiver replaced.)

GWEN: Look, whatever's happened to you, it's not normal - you must be able to see that.
MISS CAREW: Leave, Miss Cooper. Being dragged out is rather undignified. And if I were you, I'd keep my mouth shut.

(Getting up out of chair.)

GWEN: This won't just go away, Miss Carew. I'll be in touch.

(Door opened, closed.)

(While tapping on keyboard.)

RHYS: So - firstly, right, the land-line packs up. I call them up on the mobile, but of course I can't get through, then the mobile goes kaput. So what with that and the electrics tripping out all the time I'm trying to hoover, I'm absolutely knackered!

(Gwen sighs.)

RHYS: Turns out it's very tiring having a day off. Sorry, Gwen. How was your day, love?
GWEN: Interesting, yes. Erm - I went to see this Miss Carew about...

(Windows error message.)

GWEN: Oh for heaven's sake! Come on, these power blackouts are getting ridiculous.
RHYS: What are you trying to find?
GWEN: Oh... Well, I've hacked into her files, and she's building some...

(RHYS yawns.)

GWEN: She's building something, but it's hard to make out what, but... Look, don't you worry, why don't you just go to bed?
RHYS: Yeah, good idea. Early night. Will you be long?
GWEN: Mm... hopefully not.
RHYS: Don't stay up too late, yeah?
GWEN: Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

(Kiss.)

RHYS: Night-night.
GWEN: Night-night.

(Walking off, door opens, closed. Tapping on keyboard.)

GWEN: Project F. Well, no time like the present. Rhys? Rhys? I've got to go out for a bit. Won't be long.

(Typing on keyboard.)

JACK: I've just been looking at some internal emails at Marshall Nuclear Power Station. They're getting blackouts too.
IANTO: How can a power station have a blackout?
JACK: Something is shorting out their server. Everything's breaking down, including the cooling systems. They're seriously concerned that if all this continues, there could be huge radiation leaks.
IANTO: And the longer the cuts last, the more damage they'll do.
JACK: Nuclear meltdowns, warheads going off, hospitals unable to function.
IANTO: What do you think we're dealing with here, Jack?
JACK: Ah. Well, you said there were weird surges when the power went off, and that doesn't sound like anything any human would be capable of.
IANTO: Yes, that's it. I've isolated the source of these surges. I can't tell you what's causing them, but it seems to be happening out in the Black Mountains. Somewhere in the open countryside.
JACK: Call Gwen. We may need her help.

(Mobile bleeps as numbers being pressed, sound of phone ring.)

GWEN: (phone) Hi, Ianto.
IANTO: Gwen, where are you?

(There is fizzing interference in her reply)

GWEN: (phone) Look, there's something I need to tell you. I've been to see Miss Carew. There's something not right about her...
IANTO: Gwen, you're breaking up.
GWEN: I mean, she's super-fit for... and I think she's up to something. Some kind of soft... program you... keep... tography.
IANTO: I can't really hear you.
GWEN: I'm on my way to the offices... break in... see what I can find... you... if you...
IANTO: Gwen? Jack, the signal went, but Gwen was trying to tell me...
JACK: Tell me in the SUV. You're driving. Catch.

(Jangle of keys.)

JACK: Now, let's go. We've got some serious scouting to do.

GWEN: Do you usually stay...

(MISS CAREW gasps.)

GWEN:... at work till gone midnight, Miss Carew?
MISS CAREW: How did you get in here? These offices are guarded.
GWEN: Mm-hmm, yeah, whatever. I'd like to ask you a few more questions.
MISS CAREW: You're not a journalist at all, are you? And if you come one step closer I'll call Security.
GWEN: I don't think you're going to do that. There'd be far too many questions asked and I get the feeling you don't like people asking questions.
MISS CAREW: Why don't you tell me who you really are?
GWEN: I work for an organisation called Torchwood. We investigate alien activity.
Miss Carew (laughs) Is this some kind of a joke?
GWEN: Er, no, this is very serious. I want to know what software you're creating. Project F, didn't you call it?
MISS CAREW: How do you know about that? That's classified.
GWEN: To Torchwood nothing's classified.
MISS CAREW: It's time all these technological advancements were stopped. We've gone too far. We can do nothing for ourselves any more.
GWEN: So it's not just mobile phones you hate. Has this Project F got something to do with the recent blackouts?
MISS CAREW: No, of course not. Why would it?
GWEN: Tell me what's going on. We can fix this before it's too late.
MISS CAREW: No. What can anyone do to stop FitzRoy?
GWEN: FitzRoy? You need to start talking sense.
MISS CAREW: I've said too much already. Now, please go.
GWEN: Okay, I'll go. But I'll be back with my friends, and they're not as easy-going as I am.
MISS CAREW: Oh no you don't. You're not telling anyone about this.

(Gasps of them as they struggle.)

GWEN: What are you doing? You're an old woman. I could hurt you.

(Struggle continues.)

MISS CAREW: I don't think you can.
GWEN: Ow! You can't be this strong. It's ridiculous! Ow! You're like Supergran!

(Struggle. Thrown to the floor.)

MISS CAREW: FitzRoy made me this way. He gave me new life.
GWEN: Yeah, who is FitzRoy? Ow, ow, ow, ow! Get off me!
MISS CAREW: Don't try to struggle, Miss Cooper.
GWEN: Ow, watch me, you're hurting me!
MISS CAREW: I warned you not to struggle, didn't I? Now, I'm going to put you somewhere where you can't cause any trouble.

(Vehicle driving.)

JACK: Gwen might be on to something. You know how we can find her, just in case?
IANTO: I think she was going back to Miss Carew's office.
JACK: Ah, come on! Just give me one second of signal.
IANTO: Jack, where now? It's the end of the lane.
JACK: If I could get a link-up to the Hub, I'd tell you. But surprise, surprise - no power. As far as I remember, it's kind of in a North-Easterly direction?
IANTO: It's open countryside, so fasten your seat-belt. We're in for a bumpy ride.
JACK: (laugh.) I love it when you talk dirty, Ianto.
IANTO: Here we go.

(Vehicle shaking while driving.)

(Typing knots.)

MISS CAREW: There.

(Gwen gasps.)

MISS CAREW: That should stop you from running off.
GWEN: Ow! Did you have to tie it quite so tight? (Sigh.) Can't believe I've been overpowered by a pensioner.
MISS CAREW: By the time anyone finds you down here, it'll be too late.
GWEN: What would be too late? And who's FitzRoy?
MISS CAREW: Soon that question will seem very stupid indeed. Everyone will know exactly who FitzRoy is.
GWEN: Well, whoever he is, you're under his control, aren't you?
MISS CAREW: No!
GWEN: Mm.
MISS CAREW: No-one controls me. Everything I do is of my own free will.
GWEN: What - If you were acting of your own free will, I don't think you'd be kidnapping people and locking them in your basement.

(Door opened.)

MISS CAREW: Good night, Miss Cooper.
GWEN: No, no, no, wait, wait, wait! Please wait. Let's talk.
MISS CAREW: There's nothing further to talk about. And besides, I have work to do.
GWEN: But all this stuff's been happening to you. I mean, really weird stuff I'm betting, and... and - you've got no-one to share it with, have you?
MISS CAREW: Why would I need to share it with anyone?
GWEN: Because it gets very lonely living with a secret. I know. I know because I did it for a while and I was dying to tell someone, tell a friend.
MISS CAREW: I don't have any friends, they're all dead. That's one of the disadvantages of living so long. I have colleagues, but that's not the same thing.
GWEN: Well you've a friend now, haven't you? And she's pretty much unshockable, if that's what you're worrying about. And look - captive audience.
MISS CAREW: All right, Miss Cooper. I mean, in less than an hour it won't make the slightest bit of difference anyway.

(Rough driving.)

JACK: Pull over, Ianto. We'll never find what we're looking at unless we go on foot.
IANTO: And what are we looking for?
JACK: I have no idea. Park up behind these bushes, and... don't get any funny ideas.

(Vehicle stops. Car door opened, going out, car doors closed. Wind whistling.)

JACK: It's pitch black out here.
IANTO: Lucky I brought the torch then, isn't it? Well done, Ianto. No worries, Jack.

(Click of torch.)

IANTO: Which way now, then?
JACK: Don't know. Let's try, erm... oh, that-a-way.

(Walking through field.)

IANTO: I mean, I thought we might find something hi-tech, some piece of equipment. You know - something alien?
JACK: Well, maybe we will. It's a great place to hide out here, especially if you like the dark. It'd be great if that happened pretty soon, because I am freezing my ass off!
IANTO: Your ass may well be saved. Look.
JACK: Great, we found a big rock.
IANTO: And in the side behind those bushes, see?
JACK: Oh!
IANTO: A big metal door. And as far as I know, doors aren't usually a feature in the Welsh countryside.
JACK: (laugh) I love secret doors. Makes me feel all Famous Five.

(Trying locked door.)

JACK: Er, only one problem. How do we get inside?

MISS CAREW: After I got ill, I was forced to retire. I didn't want to, but the heart disease was getting worse. I didn't have the strength for all those meetings and big decisions.
GWEN: So what happened, then? You went into hospital?
MISS CAREW: It was already beyond all that. Remember, this was terminal. There was nothing the doctors could do, so... I went home.
GWEN: Of course. Who wouldn't rather be at home?
MISS CAREW: My niece helped out in the afternoons, but she had a family of her own to take care of, she didn't need another child on her hands, and I was a child. I could do nothing for myself, so I did the only sensible thing.
GWEN: You checked yourself into Ivyday.
MISS CAREW: I had no choice. I needed twenty-four hour care. I didn't want it but I needed it. By this point it was a struggle to even get out of bed.
GWEN: You must have hated it there, someone like you, who'd been so independent.
MISS CAREW: They weren't cruel at Ivyday. They were all very kind to me. Which is sometimes worse. Being spoon-fed is humiliating, Miss Cooper. I just wanted to... go.
GWEN: I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what that must feel like.
MISS CAREW: It was then at my lowest point, that I heard the voice.
GWEN: Whose voice? FitzRoy's?
MISS CAREW: You see, I did a bad thing, Miss Cooper. I sold my soul... to the Devil.

(Trying locked iron door.)

JACK: Oh! It's at times like this I wish I'd nabbed that old sonic screwdriver.

(Door unlocked.)

IANTO: There's a lot you can do with a Swiss Army knife.

(Creak as metal door opened. Water dripping. Walking.)

JACK: Oh! Neat-o. A lift.
IANTO: Bit old fashioned looking, isn't it?
JACK: This just gets more and more intriguing.

(Door opened.)

JACK: After you, Ianto. Age before beauty.
IANTO: I'll go first. I know you're scared.

(Jack laughs. Walking in. Elevator door closed.)

IANTO: Only one button. At least it saves us having to choose. Er... you don't think this might be a trap, do you?
JACK: No, of course not. When's it ever been a trap? Oh, yeah, it's always a trap. Well, maybe not this time. Keep your fingers crossed.

(Creak as door opened.)

JACK: Wait.
FITZROY: (radio) Mainly northerly, backing westerly later...
JACK: Okay, no-one about.
FITZROY: (radio) Five to seven. Gale Eight later in German Blight.
IANTO: Wow.
FITZROY: (radio) Rain or showers, moderate or good...
IANTO: What a room. Look at all this stuff.
FITZROY: (radio) Portsmouth, Plymouth, Biscay, north-east...
JACK: (laughs) It's an antiques collector's dream.
FITZROY: (radio) Four or five, occasionally...
IANTO: Some of these things are ancient.
FITZROY: (radio) Showers, mainly good...
IANTO: Look at the stuffed toucan, Jack.
JACK: Huh!
IANTO: And the weird weather vane.
JACK: Ah! I found some particularly naughty ornaments.
IANTO: Trust you!
FITZROY: (radio) Dogger. West or north-west...
IANTO: Now, that is an antique.

(Bicycle bell dings.)

FITZROY: (radio) And south or south-west...
JACK: (laughs) Don't laugh.
FITZROY: (radio) Four or five...
JACK: I used to ride one of those.
FITZROY: (radio) Occasional six at first...
JACK: Penny Farthing. Not particularly comfortable...
FITZROY: (radio) Rain later, moderate...
JACK:... but great for peering over garden walls.
FITZROY: (radio) Occasionally poor...
JACK: Oh look at this, I'm loving the Forties radiogram.
FITZROY: (radio) Fisher, westerly or north-westerly, backing southerly later.
JACK: That brings back memories.
FITZROY: (radio) Four or five...
IANTO: But why is it on? There's no-one here.
FITZROY: (radio) South FitzRoy, easterly, five to seven...
JACK: Let me see.
FITZROY: (radio) Occasionally, gale eight...
JACK: Must have been someone here recently.
FITZROY: (radio) What makes you think that, Captain Harkness?
IANTO: Er...
JACK: Hmm. Either I'm going crazy, or that radio knows my name.
FITZROY: Though I cannot see you, I sense your presence.
IANTO: Is this some kind of trick?
FITZROY: They all say that at first, Mr Jones, but this is not a trick.
JACK: (laugh) Who the hell are you?
FITZROY: I do not have a name as you do here. Those who assist me have named me FitzRoy.
IANTO: Fitz... As in the sea zone. On the shipping forecast. You know, Jack - German Bight, Dogger, Portland, FitzRoy...
JACK: Mm. And what? You live here all by yourself? Well, that's pretty clever for an old wireless.
FITZROY: I do not live here. But I will soon. Those who assist me have built this chamber for my arrival.
JACK: Oh! Come on, FitzRoy, who are you really? What's going on?
IANTO: And what are you doing to the power supply?
FITZROY: You have noticed? Good. Then it will not be long before this planet is ready to receive me.

MISS CAREW: As I grew weaker, even reading a book was tiring. So all I would do in those last few weeks at Ivyday was listen to the radio. I used to listen late into the night. And that's when I heard it.
GWEN: This voice, right?
MISS CAREW: It was during the shipping forecast. At first I thought it was one of the care assistants having a joke, or maybe it was a side-effect of the pills I was on, but no. It was something else. It was FitzRoy.
GWEN: And what did this FitzRoy say to you?
MISS CAREW: He offered me back my youth. My life. And all I had to do was make a pact.
GWEN: Didn't you think it was a bit dangerous making a deal with a strange voice on the radio?
MISS CAREW: I'm not an idiot, Miss Cooper. But what exactly did I have to lose? I was dying. I only had days to live, and... an alien, the Devil, whoever, I just wanted to be well again, I... I didn't want to die.
GWEN: I understand. But why did FitzRoy choose you?
MISS CAREW: He knew that with my health back I could be of service to him. Every pact has two sides. It was only right I kept my half of the deal. I'm a woman of my word.
GWEN: And your half of the deal is ...? Oh. All right. I see. Mm. I see, he wanted to use your computing firm, didn't he? To cause these power losses, am I right?
MISS CAREW: I'm only a part of it, albeit a significant part. But there are many others who are assisting him, paving the way. They've returned to positions of great authority where they are making it possible for our work to go unnoticed. And now I have work of my own to do.
GWEN: Wait! What work?
MISS CAREW: My company is very important, Miss Cooper. I was a brilliant programmer. We designed and supplied operating systems to all the major utility firms.
GWEN: So what's Project F? Some kind of virus?
MISS CAREW: Anyone can create a virus, but this is far cleverer than that. My company supplies every power station in the country, and I employ the best programmers of their generation. No-one can get into those networks except for them. Since I've been back, they've designed a matrix code that will attach itself onto those hardware systems and corrupt them.
GWEN: But why would you do that?
MISS CAREW: With their servers crashing they'd be unable to supply any more power. The entire developed world would no longer be able to function.
GWEN: Yeah, and we'd be back in the Dark Ages, scrabbling about in the dirt. Why would you want that?
MISS CAREW: Life will be simple again. We can discover what it really means to be a human being.

RHYS: Gwen? You coming to bed or what? (sighs) Where's she gone? Right. Two can play at that game.

(Tapping on keyboard.)

RHYS: Oh, come on!

(Windows connection sound.)

RHYS: Yes. Now, let's see.

(Tapping on keyboard.)

RHYS: Internet history.

(Playful breathing sounds through his lips while searching.)

RHYS: Hmm. First Valley Computing. Where's that?

(More tapping.)

RHYS: Oh! Crickhowell Industrial Estate. So that's where you've got to. Hmm. Right.

FITZROY: All my life I have wandered amongst the stars. I am a single entity, born of nothing, of no-one, and endlessly I travel. I have never had a home as you understand it.
JACK: Yeah. But you're thinking of settling down now, right?
FITZROY: Who would begrudge me that? I have watched you from afar, and now I wish to live as you do.
IANTO: Yeah, but at what price?
FITZROY: One or two adjustments have been made to this planet, and for that I have had assistants.
JACK: Have these assistants of yours been switching off the electricity supply? Because - we've noticed.
FITZROY: Those who listen to my broadcasts are special. They were the ones who once advanced Earth's technology. Now, they will reverse it. There were, of course, those who did not accept. They were unfortunate casualties.
JACK: Okay. But why have you been doing all this?
FITZROY: I cannot arrive if my path is blocked by so much electrical interference.
IANTO: So you're going to send the planet back to the Dark Ages?
JACK: What, hundreds of years of industrial and technological development - whoosh! Gone? You listen to me, FitzRoy, and listen very carefully. No-one is adjusting this or any other planet. Your visa application just been declined.
FITZROY: But it's too late, Captain Harkness. There is only one more broadcast, then Earth will be accessible to me.

(Bubbling liquids and electrical sounds.)

MISS CAREW: I'm ready to receive your orders, FitzRoy.
FITZROY: Now is the time for the final part of our deal.
MISS CAREW: The tests have been successful. Project F is now ready to go global. Every power station, every electrical system, every piece of technology will fail.

(Signal.)

MISS CAREW: Hold on. Signal doesn't seem to be transmitting quite yet. Must be the satellite. It's vital in order to send the virus undetected.
FITZROY: Nothing must delay this final stage.
MISS CAREW: It's not a problem, FitzRoy. I just need to go onto the roof and fix it.
FITZROY: Hurry, Miss Carew, hurry.
MISS CAREW: It should only take a few minutes.

(Struggling to get free.)

GWEN: Miss Carew, you need to let me out! Oh, come...

(Grunting with effort, smashing of glass from nearby, she gasps.)

RHYS: Gwen?
GWEN: What?
RHYS: Are you all right?
GWEN: (gasp.) How did you know where I was? I can't bel...!
RHYS: You should have deleted your browsing history.
GWEN: (laughing) Oh, I love you, you're a life-saver. Come here.

(They kiss.)

GWEN: Not much time. Look, untie this lot, will you?
RHYS: Yeah.
GWEN: Go on.

(Pulling. Gwen gasps.)

RHYS: Yeah. All right?
GWEN: Yeah, yeah, pull this - that's right. Yeah.
RHYS: Okay, come on.
GWEN: Yeah, come on.
RHYS: Let's get out of here.
GWEN: Yeah.

RHYS: Car's parked up the road - don't want to leave.

(Walking off.)

RHYS: Gwen, where are you going?
GWEN: I've got to stop her, Rhys, before she activates that virus. Oh... Oh my God, she's on the roof. (Calling) Miss Carew? Mi... What are you doing?
RHYS: Why is she up there?
GWEN: She's going to do something that will change the world, okay? And there's no way I'm having that on my conscience, so... (Calling) Please, Miss Carew, get down.
MISS CAREW: There's nothing you can do now, Miss Cooper.
GWEN: Stay here, Rhys. I'm going up.

JACK: You can reverse this, FitzRoy. There's still time.
FITZROY: It's too late. It's happening already. This planet is opening up to me. And it feels so good to finally find a home.
IANTO: You do not have the right to undo everything this planet has achieved over the centuries.
FITZROY: The people here will still be able to live. I am not destroying their habitat. I am improving it.
IANTO: But the technology is part of that habitat now.
JACK: Look, I can help you find somewhere you can settle. Some place where there's no electricity, no technology, nothing blocking you.
IANTO: Jack, if he's not going to stop Miss Carew, then we'll have to.
JACK: Will we make it there on time?
IANTO: I don't know. But we've got to try.

(Moving off.)

JACK: You're staying right where you are, FitzRoy. I'll see to that.

GWEN: Remember who you are, Miss Carew. Come on, you're not some slave of FitzRoy's. You're your own person.
MISS CAREW: I'm not interested, Miss Cooper. All this will be totally irrelevant as soon as the satellite is adjusted.
GWEN: Get away from there. Look what you're doing. We're fifty foot up, you're an old woman - this is madness.
MISS CAREW: I made a deal and I'm sticking to it.
GWEN: This is a deal it's okay to break. Now, get away from the satellite. Have I got to come over there and stop you?

(Sudden surge of electrical power.)

MISS CAREW: Oh! Oh no! Oh, oh, oh! Help me!
GWEN: Grab my hands.
MISS CAREW: Oh... oh... can't... can't... can't reach.

(She screams, Gwen long drawn out cry)

GWEN: No...!

GWEN: Miss Carew, can you hear me? Miss Carew?
MISS CAREW: Oh... Ah... I feel so strange. Like I've been... living in a dream for the past weeks.
GWEN: In a way you have.
MISS CAREW: (sigh.) I'm so tired, Miss Cooper.
RHYS: We'll call you an ambulance, Miss Carew, soon as there's a signal.
GWEN: And I'm sure there'll be something they can do for you. There's always something they can do. Very clever, these medics.
MISS CAREW: What was I doing, Miss Cooper? Trying to fight death. That's a battle no-one ever wins. Ah, I've been a fool.
GWEN: No you haven't. You've been wonderful. You've done amazing stuff in your life, you've lived it to the full. You had your own company, remember? It changed so much for people. You've a lot to be proud of, Miss Carew. Miss Carew?
RHYS: She's gone, Gwen.

(Walking over.)

IANTO: What's going on?
RHYS: It's Miss Carew. She's dead.
GWEN: She fell before she had time to adjust the satellite and spread the virus.
IANTO: That should be enough to keep FitzRoy at bay, for now. He'll hopefully have been driven back into deep space.
JACK: Let's hope he stays there. Still, we'd better get back to the Hub and make sure.
IANTO: Are you okay, Gwen?
GWEN: Yeah, I'm fine. You get going.
JACK: We'll talk tomorrow. Come on, Ianto!

(Moving off.)

GWEN: I hope I don't end up like that, Rhys, rotting away in some old people's home. I want to go out with a bang.
RHYS: Carry on like this, and it's very likely. But hold on. Who was it did the dangerous rescue attempt this time?
GWEN: (chuckle.) You were brilliant. Thank you.
RHYS: Could soon be a fully-fledged member of the Torchwood team, eh?
GWEN: Well, I don't know about that, Rhys. Not sure you'd want to be. Look at all we have to go through.
RHYS: Don't mind. As long as I get to go through it with you, I'll take on anything.

Transcribed by David Tait

Transcript originally provided by Chrissie. Adapted by TARDIS.guide. The transcripts are for educational and entertainment purposes only. All other copyrights property of their respective holders.