Ianto stood beside Jack atop a sort of natural promontory, staring out across the gently rippling grey-blue water, and feeling curiously dissatisfied. Jack had committed himself to showing his husband all the wonders of the universe, and so far, Ianto had been suitably impressed; there were a lot of amazing sights to marvel at, but in his opinion, this was not one of them. Jack, on the other hand, seemed to find it thrilling. Then again, Jack was a man who thought offices were sexy. There was no accounting for the tastes on an immortal man from almost three thousand years into the future.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Jack was beaming.

“That isn’t the word I would’ve chosen.” Ianto thrust his hands into his pockets. “It’s a lot of water, granted.” There was nothing BUT water before his eyes for as far as he could see. “But it’s hardly a novelty. I’ve seen seas and oceans plenty of times. Once you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.”

“Ah, but this isn’t a sea, or an ocean.”

“Looks like one.”

“What have I told you about not judging things by earth standards?”

“Right. Sorry. So, what am I looking at?” Ianto tried to appear more enthusiastic.

“This…” Jack gestured dramatically, flinging out one arm, “is Ninnvinnarri, the widest river in the universe!”

“A river?” Ianto’s eyebrows slowly ascended his forehead. “Exactly how wide is it?” The far bank wasn’t even a faint line on the horizon.

“Oh, in earth measurements, approximately three hundred and fifty miles in the dry season, widening to over six hundred in the wet season, but that’s not even the most exciting part!”

“It’s not?” While the river’s width was certainly impressive, in an abstract way, since it was impossible to see far enough to visually appreciate its size, Ianto still wasn’t finding anything even remotely exciting about the view. “So what DOES make it exciting?”

“Well, obviously there are the bridges, although you can’t see any of those from here. We’re only about ten miles inland, so the nearest bridge is about a hundred or so miles that way.” Jack pointed to the right. “We can go and take a look in a bit. They’re extraordinary feats of engineering.”

“They’d need to be to stretch hundreds of miles.”

“They’re also incredibly beautiful, especially at night, when they’re all lit up.”

“I look forward to seeing them.” That was no lie either; bridges that literally spanned hundreds of miles would be well worth a visit, unlike the river itself. “I gather there’s something else that makes you think a lot of water is worth looking at.”

“It’s a tidal river.”

“Okay.”

“You’ve heard about the Thames tidal bore, haven’t you?”

“Yes, I even got to see it a couple of times.”

“That has nothing on this.” Jack checked the time on his wrist strap and pointed to the left. “Just watch. Don’t worry, we’re safe up here, protected by force screens.”

“Why would I be worried?”

“You’ll see.”

So Ianto watched, and waited, and watched some more, and heard a freight train in the distance, and kept watching, and the freight train got closer, and louder, and closer… But it wasn’t a train. It was a wall of water, thundering up the river like a tsunami, pushing against the water flowing downriver, piling higher, and winning the battle to continue on its unstoppable course…

Eyes wide, Ianto stepped back from the edge as the mountain of water continued its inexorable approach; immortal he might be, but he had no wish to be caught up in THAT, tossed and tumbled helplessly, like a feather in a gale, to be broken apart on the river banks, or the foundations of one of the bridges. Jack stayed exactly where he was, grinning.

“Is that impressive enough for you?” he shouted, barely audible over the roar of the water.

Ianto couldn’t find his voice to answer, nor could he look away as the water reached where they were standing, and swept past. He felt as though he’d been shrunk, miniaturised, watching the water fold itself into pleats taller than a skyscraper back on earth.

The impossibly huge wave rumbled past, making the ground beneath Ianto’s feet quiver. Other, smaller waves followed, although they were only small in comparison to the first one, gigantic wrinkles in the water’s surface. Even the vastness of space had never made Ianto feel so insignificant, so horribly vulnerable, and yet at the same time, so awed.

As the tidal waters continued to flow inland, the level gradually dropping, Ianto blinked and remembered to breathe. “That was…” He stopped, unable to think of a single word to sum up what he’d just seen, not in any language.

“I know,” Jack agreed. “Some things are just beyond words, aren’t they?”

Ianto nodded, watching the mountain of water fade into the distance. Finally, he tore his eyres away long enough to turn to Jack. “What happens when it reaches the bridges though?”

“Oh, a long series of forcefield baffles breaks it up and slows it down well before it gets to the first bridge. By that point, the biggest of the waves will be no more than twenty feet high, easily able to pass under the bridge.”

“Oh. That’s good. Does that happen every tide?”

“To an extent. Incoming tides always create a tidal bore, but it’s only as big as the one we just saw maybe ten or twelve times a year, when all three moons are in perfect alignment.”

“Oh.” There didn’t seem to be anything else to say.”

“Well,” Jack beamed at his husband. “Shall we go and take a look at the neatest bridge? I’ve made us reservations in the Central Tower Hotel, and at the rooftop restaurant for dinner tonight.”

“There’s a hotel on the bridge?”

“There are a lot of things on the bridge. It’s over seven hundred miles long, people like to take their time traveling across it.”

“Right. Of course.” Ianto followed Jack in a kind of daze. Never again would he doubt his husband when he claimed something was worth seeing.


The End