Title: Wrong number
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 4,111 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 396 - Amnesty & Challenge 386 - Wrong number
Summary: Jack and Ianto have some technical difficulties aboard their ship.


‘Can you see anything?’ Ianto asked, peering worryingly at Jack as he leaned forward against the airlock door and studied the view outside the tiny viewport. When their computer systems had pinged an alarm for a breach on one of their external hatches, they’d immediately gone to investigate it. Being so far out in the depths of space, far from anywhere, even the smallest problem was a cause for concern.

‘Yup,’ Jack replied, sounding untroubled by what he saw. ‘False alarm.’

‘Are you sure?’ The technology was far more sophisticated than anything Ianto had operated in the past. Even these brief few months of travelling had taught him just how little he knew and how primitive the twenty-first century really was. He wasn’t sure he knew how Jack could stand it, being stuck in Cardiff all those years when there was so much more out there, far beyond the capabilities of his tiny little piece of the universe. He was only just beginning to scratch the surface of just how much that actually was.

‘Ianto, trust me, I can see the hatch from here and it is sealed tighter than a nun’s… well, you get the picture. There’s no atmosphere leaking out of it. We just had a glitch in the system.’

‘You're positively one hundred percent sure,’ he said, repeating the question for good measure and hoping that it would entice Jack to take another long hard look at it, just to put his mind at ease.

‘Would you stop being such a worry wart?’ Jack chastised, turning around to emphasise the point. ‘I know my way around a ship, and I know when a hatch has busted itself open and leaking precious oxygen.’

‘You don't want to suit up and go have a really close look?’ They had suits for short space walks to fix their ship and Ianto had one prepped and ready to go if Jack said the word. He was expert at fitting a space suit now, in much the same way as he might have been dressing Jack in his shirt and coat, but he still much preferred being the one helping put on the suit than he did having to wear one himself. As amazing as space was, he preferred to enjoy it from the comfort of their ship.

‘Hull integrity is totally one hundred percent fine,’ Jack said, his tone of voice suggesting that Ianto was getting panicky unnecessarily. ‘Computer glitches happen all the time, warning you of the most insignificant things. I'd rather have the computer be over cautious than the alternative.’ He must have seen the unconvinced expression on Ianto’s face. ‘Look, I'll run a full diagnostic on her just as soon as we get back to the bridge.’

The computer bleeped another warning noise just as Jack threatened it with an overhaul. “Hatch breach, hatch breach,” it chimed in its sultry feminine voice, not dissimilar to the earlier warning.

‘Jack?’

Jack pressed up against the viewport again, checking the hatch on the side of their cruiser once more. ‘There's nothing wrong with it, I swear.’

“Hatch breach, hatch breach,” the computer warned them again. “Sealing airlock.”

‘What? Wait, no!’ Jack said, spinning on his heel and watching in horror as the door between them slid shut on automatic power, putting a barrier between them and him on the wrong side of it.

‘Jack?’ Ianto tried to keep the rising panic out of his voice.

‘It's fine,’ Jack assured him. ‘There's no breach here. Look at me I'm still breathing, right?’

‘But…’

‘But nothing,’ Jack said, brooking no argument from him. ‘Computer has gotten twitchy. All we have to do is manually override the system and open the airlock door. So long as there's a breathable atmosphere in here the computer isn't going to do anything more than keep that door shut.’

‘It's not going to pop open the other door or anything is it?’ Ianto fretted, afraid that Jack was seconds from being sucked out into space, and him with their space suits on the other side of the airlock door where Jack couldn't reach one.

‘Don't be silly. If already thinks the door has a breach, it's going to stay shut thinking it's the last line of defence between it and a full hull breach. Which we know it isn't,’ he reiterated. Jack pressed his face to the secondary viewport that separated him from his lover. ‘Ianto, I'm okay. Nothing bad is gonna happen. I just need you to override the door lock.’

‘How?’

‘There’s a four digit factory default code that will release the inner lock. You just need to open up the main control panel on the wall. Behind it will be a secondary override panel. You key the code into that.’

‘1234?’ he asked, attempting humour to keep his mind from drifting into more worrying thoughts.

‘Don’t laugh. It may be a thirty-second century class cruiser, but some things never change.’ It was amazing how Jack could be so calm at a time like this, but then again they both had an emotional spectrum that had been forever changed by work they'd done at Torchwood. It took a lot to worry either of them, but seeing Jack on the wrong side of the ship’s airlock with a computer on the blink was enough for Ianto.

He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself so that he remained cool under pressure just like Jack. He found the emergency control panel and flipped it open, revealing the secondary keypad behind the main one, just like Jack had described, though much smaller, like a hidden reset button. He typed the basic four digit code and waited. ‘Okay, that didn’t work. In fact, it beeped rather angrily at me.’

‘That’s okay. We get three shots before it overrides the safety protocols and locks itself permanently. If it's not the default code, it’ll be the code for the guy who sold it to us.’

Ianto raised his eyebrows at the comment. ‘He has the code?’ It didn’t feel right that a total stranger should know the all important override codes to their ship when they didn’t even know them.

‘Every authorised seller has a code. It's what they reprogram them to sometimes so that they don’t have to think about it. You can keep their code or you can program in a new one when you buy it.’

Ianto supposed that sort of made sense, like changing the locks when you bought a new house on the off chance someone still had a key they shouldn’t. ‘And how do we find out what that code is?’

‘It’ll be on the original paperwork, somewhere in the fine print. And I know you, Ianto Jones. You never throw away anything.’

‘That’s right. Hang on and I'll fetch it. I know exactly where I will have filed it.’ The thought buoyed him as he reluctantly left Jack where he was, hoping that he was right in that the computer system didn’t have any more nasty surprises in store for them.

Jack waited patiently for him to return, not that he had much say in the matter. Ianto climbed back down into the airlock tunnel and paused in front of the keypad, clutching the wad of triplicate papers they’d been handed just as soon as they’d parted with the requisite credits, Jack having haggled it down from the asking price. Apparently used spaceship salesmen were no different to used car salesmen, in that you didn’t believe a word they said, and never offered to pay full price.

He flipped back through the pages until he reached the one where he’d located the code, circling it in pen so he could find it more easily. Jack had been right when he’d described it as fine print. It was lucky he didn't need reading glasses. ‘Okay, I've got it,’ he announced. ‘I wondered what that funny number was. Just assumed it was a licensed dealer registration number or something.’ Of course he’d read the fine print ages ago, but most of it was just legal jargon, and he was hardly conversant in intergalactic consumer laws so it really didn’t make much difference. They’d bought from a reputable seller and Jack could spot a defect a mile away, so that was good enough for him.

He typed in the code with a renewed confidence and felt a cold shudder of dread course through him when the panel bleeped again. That wasn’t good. ‘That didn’t work,’ he reported. ‘And it went all red and grumpy as well.’

Jack nodded, masking any concern. ‘Okay, so one shot left.’

‘Ah, okay,’ Ianto said, thumbing back through the thirty pages of documents. ‘Maybe I got the wrong number, or maybe it’s somewhere else in here. Let me go through it all again.’

‘Not to rush you or anything, but even though this is an airlock, I might emphasise the locked part. As in no new air coming in on account of the computer thinking there's been a breach.’

Crap. ‘Exactly how much air do you have in there?’

Jack paused and seemed to consider the calculation. ‘Two hours maybe? Depends on how active I am in here.’

‘Or how much talking you do.’

‘Definitely a variable.’

‘Never thought I'd find myself wishing you had more air for talking,’ he said, trying to make a joke of it even though on the inside he was absolutely bricking it. Ianto decided to go with a straight two hours, setting his watch so that it started up a timer, just in case he needed to refer to it. Not that he thought he would. Either he was getting Jack out quick smart, or he’d know he was running out of time when Jack started getting breathless and sleepily insensible. Ianto had done oxygen deprivation before and knew first hand what it was like. There were worse ways to go than sleeping yourself to death but on the whole he preferred no death at all.

‘Okay, thirty pages, two hours. That’s four minutes per page. Loads of time,’ he added, more to himself than anything else. He remained standing so that he could keep an eye on Jack through the tiny window as he slid down into a seated position inside the airlock, closing his eyes and looking as if he were preparing himself to use as little oxygen as possible, giving Ianto whatever time he could.

Every time his eyes landed upon a number he read it and re read it again, making sure it wasn’t the thing that he was looking for. In the end he began trying to find patterns or hidden meaning in strings of numbers far longer than what Jack had told him they needed. ‘It’s no use,’ he finally declared, dropping the paperwork on top of a crate of supplies. ‘I’ve checked everything in here and that was the only code.’

‘It was worth a try,’ Jack said, not even bothering to open his eyes and look up at Ianto, still focusing on keeping his breathing and heart rate as slow as possible.

‘Oh, no. Don't you dare do that to me,’ Ianto said, watching Jack ignore him. ‘Don't you give up on me yet.’

‘I’m not giving up, I’m giving you more time.’

Time? What he needed was more ideas. ‘You said you knew your way around the ship. Could there be more than one way to manually override the airlock seal, or at least convince the computer that there isn’t a breach?’

‘It’s possible.’

‘Okay, so tell me what to do.’

Jack opened his eyes and looked up at him this time. ‘I don’t know.’

‘What do you mean you don't know?’ Ianto cried, growing impatient.

‘Fix a busted engine, coax a bit more power out of it, divert our shields, manually correct the navigational compass… I can do all of that, but this is way too specific even for me. We’d need to pore through the ship’s control manual for that, and even then we’re probably trying to read between the lines. I don't think there’s a whole chapter dedicated to overriding one of the ship’s most important safety features.’

‘Let’s try, anyway.’ Ianto jogged the whole way back to their quarters and grabbed his tablet computer, bringing it back to the airlock holding bay and bringing up the ship’s manual on the screen. ‘Bollocks, it’s in Galactic Standard. Is there an English translation module?’

‘Probably not. Wasn't made a standard thing until the thirty sixth century when the English-speaking colonies demanded recognition to the Unified Conglomerate’s Administrative Assembly.’

‘Ah, bonus history lesson,’ Ianto sniped. ‘Not helping.’ He grumbled out an annoyed sound. ‘Great. What if I read every single symbol to you and you translate it for me?’

‘It’ll take ages.’ Jack already looked tired and disinterested. Ianto didn’t think he could keep Jack focused on the task even if he were stuck in a room full of oxygen.

Ianto chewed his lip, avoiding making any more snide and unhelpful comments. ‘Then I'll read fast.’ He scrolled past the index and started at page one, hoping that safety features took pride of place and not a dissertation on the merits of having both left and right cup holders for the pilot and co-pilot seats. ‘Okay, those two words I understand, then there's a circular line with a dot in the top right hand corner and a line vertically down the middle, followed by a triangle, two I shaped letters then a, oh god, how do I describe that?’

‘Ianto…’

‘No, okay it's, um, oaky, so you know that emoji that has someone sort of blowing a kiss.’

‘Ianto…’

‘But it's inverted. Upside down, I mean.’

‘Ianto…’

‘Christ, Jack! Why didn’t you ever teach me Galactic Standard sooner? It's going to take an hour just to translate the first paragraph and I don't even know which section of the manual I'm supposed to be looking at. This could just be all the legally obligated safety warnings for all I know.’

‘Take a guess!’ Jack shouted.

‘What?’

‘You’ve got one more shot. Just take a guess at the code.’

Ianto shook his head at the insanity of the suggestion. ‘Jack, the probability of me chancing on the correct code out of a possible ten thousand combinations well exceeds a one in ten thousand chance.’

‘I know.’

Ianto leaned his forehead against the door, letting his eyes slip shut. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘I know that too. ‘Jack reached up and loosened his shirt buttons, stripping it off as the heat created from the decreasing levels of oxygen inside the airlock made him uncomfortable. ‘Our best bet now is for you to get the ship to the nearest way station or docking port and get help. They should be able to use a high-energy acetylene hydro-carbon blowtorch to cut the door open.’

‘But Jack, that’s weeks of travel!’ Even assuming he could get the ship going at any real speed and in the right direction. He knew the basics but that was it.

‘I can’t die,’ Jack reminded him.

‘You can,’ Ianto argued. How many times might that be? Ten minutes to suffocate, ten minutes to revive? He could suffer thousands of times over. That simply didn’t feel like any sort of option. ‘I’m not leaving you in there to suffer over and over again.’

‘I’ve been worse places,’ Jack replied. It was hardly the point, but the leaden weight forming in the pit of Ianto’s stomach was telling him that he was running out of alternatives.

Ianto let his head continue to lean against the cool tempered glass of the view port. If this was their only option, he’d at least stay with Jack until the end. He didn't want Jack dying here alone, even if it might cut an hour off any future arrival somewhere that might help.

‘S’hot,’ Jack murmured, fumbling with his fingers to try and divest more clothing. His face glistened with beads of sweat, and there were small damp patches forming on his t-shirt between his pecs and under his arms.

‘Leave it on,’ Ianto pleaded. ‘Got to keep some dignity for when we rescue you, right?’ he teased.

Jack slumped back against the wall. ‘Not long now anyway, I suppose.’ Ianto’s heart broke at the resigned tone in which Jack said it.

Ianto wasn’t sure how long he’d stood there, keeping vigil when a thought hit him. The ship had been second hand when they’d bought it. What if the previous owners had changed the default code? Or… they might have just kept the code from the original dealer. If a second hand dealer wanted to easily change the lock codes, they’d want to know the original code rather than go through the rigmarole of following all the technical instructions on how to complete a manual override. Or someone was meant to change the code to the re-sesller’s default code, but never got around to it. In order to know how to change the code though, you had to know what the old code was.

He reached down for the abandoned stack of papers flicking back to the top page. There was a deep space radio signal code on the top letterhead. ‘Yes,’ Ianto muttered to himself. He cast a glance back through the viewport where Jack was slumped in semi-consciousness. Guilt tugged at him as he debated whether to stay with Jack until the end or go now. When he realised that maybe there was still a chance he could save Jack before it came to that, it was a no brainer. ‘I’ll be back soon, Jack. Just hold on for me,’ he said, dashing out of the airlock tunnel.

Hr raced towards the ship’s bridge at the other end of the vessel, sliding to a stop before dropping into the co-pilot’s chair and flicking on the radio switch. He was still catching his breath as he keyed in the long series of digits and letters for the dedicated frequency.

“Sparta new and used ships, this is Errulvin speaking. How may we help you?’

‘Yes, hello. My name is Ianto Jones. We bought a cruiser from you a couple of months ago. Second hand.’ He quoted the sales docket and the vessel registration number. ‘I need to confirm the airlock override code. The one noted in your paperwork doesn't work. I need you to go back through your records. The override code for the airlocks when you bought the ship from its original owner.’

“All our vessels are reset to our standard release override code contained in your purchase documents,” Errulvin replied.

‘Well, this one wasn't. Someone at your company failed to change it.’

There was a subtle vexed exhalation of breath on the other end of the line. ‘Can’t you just do a manual override to reset the code?’

‘No, I can't! And my husband is currently trapped in there and quickly running out of breathable atmosphere, so please! Please just check your records. It's got to be the old code. I’m sure of it.’

‘Ah, I see,’ Errulvin said, sounding terribly calm considering someone's life was at stake. ‘Can I put you on hold for a few minutes while I bring up the files?’

‘Oh, please. Take all the time you need. I’ve got loads. Not going anywhere.’

‘Thank you. Won’t be long.’

Ianto sat through what felt like an eternity of terrible on hold music. One thing that hadn’t changed in the future, or anywhere else in the universe, was the exasperatingly annoying music one was forced to endure. He supposed at least it was better than repetitive self-promoting adverts.

‘Are you still there, Mister Jones?’

‘Yes!’

‘I've managed to locate the purchase details. The original override code is 4-2-2-5.’

‘Four, two, two, five,’ Ianto muttered, reaching for a pen and writing the digits on his hand. He didn't dare risk his photographic memory failing him in a moment of crisis. ‘You’re absolutely sure that’s the old code.’

‘Quite sure, Mr Jones. It’s all here in the documents. Is there anything else I can help you with?’

‘No, but when we reach our fifty thousand parsec mileage we’ll be sure to pop by for a service.’

‘Glad to hear it. Safe travels and have a nice day.’

‘Four, two, two, five… Four, two, two, five…’ Ianto kept repeating the numbers all the way back to the airlock. It didn't matter that he had them written on his hand. He was going to commit them to memory if it was the last thing he ever did.

He flipped the control panel back open, revealing the tiny override keypad. Four, two, two, five. He double checked it against what he’d written on his hand One chance to save Jack from being permanently ejected out into deep space where he’d become unreachable forever.

Did he dare try it? What alternative was there? Let Jack keep dying and resurrecting into an oxygenless space for months on end in the hopes that he might be able to fly the ship somewhere it could land safely? He could use the navigational systems but flying was another matter. There were so many intricacies to it, and that was assuming he didn't run into any problems. Gravitational anomalies, planets, time and space rifts not unlike the one tethered to Earth, were all out there in his path, and that was just the known ones. It was a literal minefield out there for the inexperienced pilot. Jack would have made it look easy with his hands tied behind his back, but Ianto was far from an accomplished pilot. It was more like his second week in that banged up beige Vauxhall his dad had owned and tried to teach him to drive, only to have him misjudge the diameter of the local roundabout and go crunching over the edge of it. He didn't doubt that a ship in deep space would suffer far more than a bit of scraped paint and a torn fuel line.

He looked down at Jack’s prone figure lying there up against the wall. ‘Please forgive me,’ he said, before reluctantly and agonisingly slowly, typing the four digit code into the panel. Four, two, two, five.

“Manual override accepted,” the computer chimed as if it hadn't been a matter of life and death. “Airlock seal opening, please stand back.”

‘What?’ He almost couldn't believe it as the hydraulics of the door hissed and slid open.

Ianto rushed forward to where Jack was skilled half upright against the airlock wall, totally unconscious. ‘Jack?’ He leaned close and realised Jack wasn’t breathing, tugging him across the floor and back into the oxygen saturated corridor just beyond the airlock. He grabbed Jack’s mouth and nose and forced air into his lungs once, twice and then a third time.

Jack gasped and coughed, lungs starting to work again and pulling in air on their own. Jack was still groggy as his eyelashes parted, Jack's eye's slowly forced their way open though it looked like it was a struggle showing Ianto those blue eyes he loved so much.

‘Were you kissing me?’

Ianto couldn’t resist but to smile and roll his eyes. ‘Only way to get your attention, obviously.’

‘You did it,’ he said sleepily, trying to push himself up onto his elbows.

‘How could you ever think otherwise?’ Ianto teased, reaching down to kiss him properly this time before trying to help him stand up so he could half carry Jack somewhere there was a much stronger pocket of oxygen to wake him back up.

Jack’s body was damp and clammy with sweat as he helped his lover limp slowly out of the tunnel and back towards their private quarters. Ianto resisted the urge to mention Jack's body odour. Usually he smelled amazing but even fifty first century pheromones couldn't overlay it.

‘Time for victory sex?’ Jack asked, even though he sounded like he could barely keep his head up, let alone anything further south.

‘First we get your head cleared, then a shower, then I think we worry about getting us somewhere a n expert mechanic can overhaul the ship whilst we lie on a beach and sip cocktails, what do you say?’

Jack frowned at him. ‘What's wrong with my being able to fix the ship?’ he said, sounding a little drunk.

‘Nothing, cariad. Just prefer that if someone is going to get stuck in an oxygenless airlock, it's not one of us.’

‘Then victory sex on a beach and cocktails? Jack asked, mind now fixated on the idea.

‘Anything you like,’ Ianto replied. ‘Anything.’