Torchwood, outside the Government, beyond the Police.
Tracking down alien life on Earth, arming the human race against the future.
The 21st century is when everything changes.
And you've got to be ready.
This programme contains some strong language.
The speed of light is 299,792,458 metres per second.
Pain travels through the body at 350 feet per second.
Even a sneeze can reach 100mph.
And as for life,
well, that just bloody whizzes by.
So then, this is me,
Eugene Jones.
Hey, Gwen. Jack! Er, Tosh...
The guys at the rope just let me through so... I'd say at least 50 miles per hour.
Travelled on the bonnet, bounced, maybe rolled, smashed his face on the road.
Hey? Um, excuse me, but that looks a lot like me.
He couldn't even cross the road without messing it up.
No bag - nothing. I mean, what was he doing here?
Perhaps he was hit deliberately... Maybe he really did have something important. Like what?
I don't know. He was always trying to talk to us, show us stuff. Perhaps we shouldn't have been so...
Gwen, I think it's just an ordinary RTA. Guys?
It was a red car. There's red paint under his fingernails. Am I dead?
Am I dead?
Yes? Hello, love. I've just been to the shops and forgot tea-bags.
Hello...?
Eugene? Hi, Mrs Jones.
Something's happened. We need to talk to you.
What happened? How did I end up here?
I mean, I'm dead, but I'm not dead.
So... Shit!
So, what? Am I a ghost or a zombie?
Oh, God. Right, calm.
Yeah? Stick with the team.
What? You're driving.
This is Torchwood, it's going to be OK.
Oh, what? Of course, I'm invisible.
Why am I invisible?
Anything on his phone from today?
Just some pictures of random shoes.
Mind you, it feels kinda familiar.
You know what, whatever's happened, all of a sudden, I'm somewhere I've always wanted to be.
Let's back up a bit.
I mean, every story's got a beginning. I think mine began here...
The final of the Interschool Maths Competition, 1992.
I used to be a maths head. Binary coding, topology, quadratics, I loved stuff like that.
And I'm supposed to be really good at it.
And Rushmore, a mountainous 42...
So we congratulate the winning team - Rushmore...
Dad took the day off work to come and see me, but when the moment mattered,
I blanked,
let the side down,
made a mess of it.
Everyone blamed me for losing the final...
.. but it must have been what happened afterwards that started this whole thing off.
Have you ever had a proper look at the collection? No, sir.
Would you like to? No, sir.
I play golf.
Oh. Good, sir.
I play golf. And one day when I was playing really badly...
I was stuck in the first bunker whacking away at all the sand...
.. and this fell out of the sky, and landed - plop! - beside me.
From the sky? Yeah.
It looks a bit like a golf ball, so I picked it up and put it in my pocket.
But when I had a proper look later... Here.
I realised it was an eye.
And I thought, well,
"Where could that have come from?"
It fell from the sky. Isn't that amazing?
Have it.
Where the bloody hell have you been?
Good evening. .. Good evening. Come on, Eugene.
Have you got everything?
Yes. Thanks, sir.
I went to the school, didn't I!
'Dad was mad at me for losing the final.
'But now I had the eye.
'And what I realised was, if it fell from the sky, it probably...'
No... No, it almost certainly belonged to an alien.
HIS MUM AND DAD ARGUE
That was the night Dad went away.
But it was OK, because I had the eye, and the possibility of an alien encounter.
I mean, if you leave something really important behind, you come back and get it.
Don't you?
I wanted that alien to come back and claim his eye more than I wanted anything in my life.
I worked out the possible provenance, the life form and galaxy,
planetary escape velocities, launch windows, necessary fuel capacities,
and then, I waited.
My dad never came back.
As I got older, I became interested in UFOs, collected alien artefacts,
watched the stars and waited alone for my alien.
'And then,
'I found you, Gwen Cooper.'
Hi, I'm Eugene Jones and, er, I have a keen interest in your work and, er...
I've got something to... I'd just like to show... Hi.
Hi. OK, what it is... Look, I've got to go.
'But I couldn't quite make contact.'
Hmm, you again.
Gwen, I've got this thing I really need to show you.
Sorry, that sounded...
'I couldn't get you interested in the eye, no matter how hard I tried.'
Are you sure it's my Eugene?
Yes, Mrs Jones.
Perhaps you couldn't really identify him.
We could.
That's his tea there.
Shit!
What are we doing here?
Look at this.
Do you understand what's happened to your brother, Terry? Yeah. What?
He walked into a road and got run over.
Where's your dad? He works for a big corporation in America.
Gwen?
That's pre-Gorgon Pilurian currency. I had them authenticated. Are these Roman coins?
Hey, look, Rice Krispies. Man, there are some rogues out there.
Oh, hang on, there's something missing here.
Mrs Jones, do you know what's missing from Eugene's collection?
Why didn't they stop?
They killed my boy and just drove on...
Excuse me.
I am sorry, Mrs Jones.
Look, Mum, I'm sorry,
but we've got the best team ever working on this. Torchwood, me - top!
We'll get it sorted, Mum.
See, I think there's probably been some mistake.
So... So...
I gotta go.
I want to know what he last ate, where he'd been...
Oh, wow!
This is... This is...
I am totally...
Christ almighty! The Head of Vexor 11.
No way!
And... Wow!
A hand... In a jar.
What was he doing out on that road? Fuck knows. Categorising chevrons. He was a geek.
Ah, this is truly legendary.
Gwen, he had a bit of a thing about you, and now you're feeling guilty. Sod off, Owen.
You do it, then. I do it? The autopsy?
Yes. I've got a stack of admin. OK. Good. You're sure? Yes.
Really? Yes.
I am in heaven.
Am I?
Is that...?
Number three scalpel. Start at the sternum. Piece of piss.
OK, here we go.
This is also new to me, but in an investigation like this...
OK, a red Vauxhall has been stopped outside Caernarfon.
Very drunk guy has admitted knocking a man over near Cardiff. Fit's Eugene's description.
The man says he thought he'd be OK, so he drove on. Ah, he was a sweet guy. That's very sad.
Now, can we get on with some proper work, please?
Do you think Eugene committed suicide?
It was a road accident and there was no alien involved.
See, I'm not so sure because something seems really odd.
I mean, I just...
I just feel that there's something going on.
Marvellous. Thank you for that Disney moment. Now, who's making the tea?
I suppose Eugene's a bit odd and a real local and amateur for you.
Why is it that only Gwen seems to have a heart? I don't know if you've noticed but the rest of us are human
and amazingly we still manage to get on with our jobs. OK, you two... OK, fine. Leave it, forget it.
I have.
Is that Eugene's DVD?
No.
Yes!
It was on loan from a video store. You were nicking his stuff? I was going to take it back.
I'll do it. Suits me.
There'll be a fine.
I'm going to go for some lunch.
All right.
Hi. Do you know when the video shop round the corner opens?
No, he's a law unto himself. Gwen! What are you doing here?
This is my lunch cafe. This is... Do you know someone called Eugene Jones?
That's me! That's me. Middle height. Sandy hair. Ordinary looking... Nope. What can I do for you?
I come in here every day. Two eggs, ham and chips. Two eggs, ham and chips, please.
So...
Wow, this is so weird. I used to follow YOU around.
Now you're following me!
Yeah.
No, you see, I don't know whose those are.
I can't remember anything, except...
Phone Gary. He might know something.
Phone Gary, phone Gary...
'Hi, this is Gary. Please leave a message.'
Hi, my name is Gwen Cooper. I have some very bad news for you, Gary.
I'll give you a call back later.
That is so beautiful.
TV: These ancient creatures have had their day.
All over these lush fern prairies
a grim evolutionary battle has broken out
among the newer types of reptile...
Hello.
Hi, gorgeous. Want to borrow a dream? No, thank you.
I want to return some DVDs on behalf of someone who's deceased.
Deceased? No shit. That's pretty final. Eugene Jones.
Hey, I think he used to come in here, with a mate.
Bit of a dreamer, kind of... Irresistible?
Ordinary looking. Yeah. He was killed in a road accident. That's bad. Sweet guy.
£34, please. £34?
Yeah. Sorry. He's had 'em out ages. I haven't seen him in months.
I don't think I can bend the rules, just cos he's dead.
Bread-head bastard. Sorry, Gwen. That's OK.
Did he, er...?
Did he walk into the oncoming traffic?
See, lot a people come in here.
They don't want to be themselves any more, they want to be someone else. They want me to transport them.
How about you, baby? Oh, leave it out. I'm fine, thank you.
How about you? Me?
I'm outta here. Moving to London in a couple of months. You know what I'm sayin'?
You see, no disrespect, but Eugene had "loser" written through him like "Brighton" in a stick of rock.
Maybe he just couldn't live with his... failure.
You wanna write a cheque?
Failure?
Is that right? Has my life just been one big failure?
I mean, maybe I never quite lived up to my early promises of maths genius,
but that's because I was waiting for the alien to collect his eye and change my life.
And while I was waiting, I joined Passmore Telesales.
Oh, yes. This is all nauseatingly familiar.
'Selling kitchens, home insurance, barbeque sets.
'Selling life and... still waiting.'
Jason!
Kevin! The guy with the personal hygiene problem.
Nothing changes, really.
Hi, Morag.
Me and Morag used to go out.
So, how come I can remember the details of my fascinating daily life,
but the vital couple of weeks before I died
are still a complete mystery to me? Are you Gary?
Yeah, yeah. How do you, er...?
Are you... Gwen, yes. I was just wondering whether you saw Eugene the day he died.
No. Sorry.
Just doing a card. You know...
"Good luck in your new job"? He's dead. No! Who's it for, then?
His mum, you idiot! Shit.
Can you rub it out? It's in Biro.
People just don't understand. Don't worry, mate, it's OK.
Is it true?
He got run over? Yeah.
Oh, God.
Sorry. I'm Linda. I'm a Silver Seller.
It's all about belief, see?
If necessary, I am Kitchens For A Lifetime.
Eugene was only ever himself.
He wasn't the best salesman then?
No. I think Craig kept him on out of the goodness of his heart.
Have you met Craig? Is he your boss?
Are you two an item?
A snog in the ladies' at the Christmas party.
But I can't talk about it here cos of Craig's, you know... position.
Do you want to meet lunchtime for a chat?
OK. Where does Gary sit?
Number 50. OK, thank you. Thanks.
MOBILE RINGS
Owen. 'Gwen, Jack wants to know where you are.' Yeah, sorry.
I had a few things to sort out. I'll be back later. 'Yeah, well, make it quick.'
Well, one day Eugene came in, very low. Why? Why was he low?
He wouldn't talk about it.
Anyway, I was fed up too because Craig had...
Well, anyway, I said, I'd love to get away from it all and go to Australia.
Eugene suddenly got very excited. He said, "Yes! You've got to go."
I said, "But I haven't got the money,"
and he said he'd get it for me.
So he was going to pay for a ticket for you to go to Australia with him? Was he in love with you?
Oh, no! He loved someone he said was unattainable.
He was just trying to look after me. He said,
"Don't stay here and waste your life waiting for something that may never happen."
Where was he going to get the money from? Exactly.
You said, "You haven't bought socks in six years."
I said, "You haven't even had a new pair of socks in six years."
He stood up, and he said... MOBILE RINGS That's your phone.
Yeah, he said...? He said,
"I'm going to sell it."
I said, "What?"
He said, "My alien artefact." So...? So...? So he brought it in to work.
It's a plastic eye! It's an alien body part, and I'm going to sell it on eBay.
Eugene, it's very nice of you, but I don't think that's going to get me the bus into town,
let alone a flight to Sydney.
Some people laughed. But he went ahead, and of course, it just sat there.
She said maybe a photo, a bit more of a description...
Then, out of the blue - £2.50.
A kid from Birmingham.
And then... Eugene, you got a couple more bids.
Bloody hell! 75 quid!
That was just the beginning.
200... 300...
1,000... They just kept on going up.
£3,000! For a spare body part.
Pete said you can get a bathroom suite with a celebrity appearance for less than that!
Then one day, it just...
jumped.
Oh, my God, Eugene, you're rich!
£15,005.50.
Who bought it? Who bought it?
I've no idea. Is it all my fault?
Of course it's not! MOBILE RINGS I'm sorry.
Hello? 'Hi, it's Eugene's mum.'
Mrs Jones? 'There's something I think you should see.' OK. I'll come over.
That was Eugene's mum. Sorry, I'm going to have to go.
I'm sorry.
There he is... my son at the Interschool Maths Final. Big moment.
Youngest contestant in Wales.
So, it's down to the wire, the last question will settle the final.
What curve is represented by y-squared = 4ax?
Come on. You got a brain the size of Cardiff Arms Park! What's the friggin' problem?
What curve is represented by y-squared = 4ax? Don't do this.
Don't let me down, boy.
No?
DING! Time's up. No additional points.
The final scores are...
I don't understand. Someone gave him the eye as a consolation prize?
Yeah, it was that Mr Garrett, the science teacher.
A plastic eye!
As a consolation prize!
Still, Eugene treasured it. That was the night Dad walked out. Went away.
You can stop now, Mum. What do you mean? He's dead.
He may have been able to square the root of the square root, but he couldn't cross the road! Terry!
He sold the eye online.
So something must have happened.
Dad left when he found out Eugene was a failure. That's what Eugene said. None of that's true.
He went cos of his job.
He has a very important job.
Does Mr Jones know about Eugene?
Well, you see, he works for a big corporation
in America. Stop giving us that shit! He's not Superman, Mum! He works at a garage on Filey Road.
Eugene found him about two weeks ago. He found him on the internet.
He's a cashier. Works nights.
Oh, God, now I remember why I sold the eye.
Life can be such a let down, can't it?
All those years I'd believed my dad had gone to America because I was a failure.
And here he was, all along, doing his important secret work in Filey Road, Cardiff.
When I found him, I couldn't even bear to say hello.
I'd spent my life believing in stupid stories, fantasies.
I've wasted my life.
Once I'd seen him there, everything I'd dreamed about was like rubbish,
just a crock of shit, including the eye.
So why not sell it?
Along with the woodworm treatment and loft insulation,
and all the other crap floating round the world.
Linda was welcome to the money.
No! No! NO! Don't, Gwen!
I don't want anything to do with him.
I'm sorry.
It's OK.
You turned your phone off.
It was Eugene.
He didn't understand why his father left.
He just needs a bit of help.
To do what? He's dead! Yes, Jack, I know he's dead, but...
This is not sounding good, Gwen.
I've got work to do. OK.
Eh? No. You can't just stop.
I mean, what about the £15,000? Gwen? Gwen! OK. Listen to this.
Eugene had an alien eye in his collection. He sold it online.
What, like a sixth eye?
A Dogon sixth eye?
Maybe.
It's possible. There was a trade in them.
Who's got it? I don't know, but I've nearly tracked it down.
What exactly is a sixth eye? I mean, exactly?
It's one in the back. Let's you see behind you, where you've been.
Kind of puts things in perspective.
It's useful, fun, slightly terrifying, that's why they were in demand.
See? See? I told you. I can get it for you.
My alien...
See? See?
OK, you've got the weekend.
But keep your phone on.
God, you are brilliant.
And I'm brilliant too.
Oh, yeah, of course, Gary and me were going to go to that talk in Aberystwyth.
Black holes and anti-matter were pretty important to me and Gary, but
if I'm going to spend a night by the sea, I know who I'd rather be with.
I'd trust you with my life
if, you know, I still had one.
Gary?
I'm not proud of what I've done.
You hiked the bid? I created three or four online aliases, and used them to inflate the price.
But why?
At first, just to cheer him up. He was miserable.
But then the bidding took off and we got...
I mean, I was involved at first.
I was just helping Eugene make money, and then one morning...
Gary!
Gary, I think it's him.
Who? The alien.
My alien.
I think he's come back to claim what's rightfully his.
Gary, I'd stopped believing in him. I mean, I thought I was just a total sucker but...
Who else would be bidding this kind of money for a prosthetic eye?
He couldn't contact me any other way.
So he chose eBay? Cyberspace.
I mean, even an online auction has a certain elegant symmetry.
I think I'm finally going to meet him.
Well, I was doubtful at first, you know, and then suddenly, out of nowhere - bam!
15,000. I mean, the bid jumped to a cool cowin' 15,000.
Yeah. Yeah. I remember us talking.
I thought it was £15,005.50.
Yeah, it was, yeah.
I mean, I wouldn't spend that kind of money unless it was my own
personal private body part or something. Would you? No.
No. No way! I remember, yes.
I waited a couple of days and then I got an email telling me to come to, er... come to a restaurant.
You saw Eugene the day he died, didn't you?
Yeah, I met up with him before he went to meet the alien.
I had a cup of coffee.
He was scared. Was I? Course I was.
So he went to make the exchange - £15005.50 for the eye, right?
And this was somewhere on the A48 perhaps? Or not. Or not?
Eugene was very secretive.
Could have been in Splott? Splott?
That doesn't sound right, mate.
Who are these people with you, Gary?
Why would Eugene take a photo of your shoes?
And, whose are the other shoes?
They're just random shoes, I should think.
I miss him.
Yes, yes, I can remember! I called a taxi, and then, then I put the eye in a freezer bag.
And then there was... Yes, I was walking up this road going up towards...
um, a shiny building with...
a great door which said something about...
something about...
Happiness.
I don't want you to find out what happened.
I don't want this to end.
I love you.
I thought we were on holiday.
Yes.
Yes... this is it.
We came up the hill, and there it was! There it was, the...
The Happy Cook?
Yeah, I walked towards the door, wondering who exactly I would be
meeting, excited, quite stressed, shitting myself frankly.
I opened the door...
I walked in,
and saw...
I've been looking for a pair of shoes like that for ages.
And saw...
And saw... my mates.
Hi, guys. Good to see you,
but erm... I've got the rendezvous.
It's us. I know but... he won't want a crowd.
I'm meeting the buyer.
I'm meeting the alien. We ARE the alien, man.
We bought it.
What? Here.
What are you having?
Erm... I'll have a milkshake, thank you. Banana.
Yeah. So we are the official buyers.
Can we see the merchandise?
I don't quite know what you're trying to tell me here.
See, we did it as a joke to cheer you up. We didn't think we'd be the actual buyers.
Then he said you said you thought it was the alien, and we thought...
well, that's funny, innit?
Come on, Eugene, get real.
But then we thought, "Let him dream, man.
"Life's short and really boring."
So then we went on betting and then...
You bid 15,000 for the eye?
Not us. No. No way.
It turns out there was real interest.
Someone else bid the fifteen thou, but then HE got greedy.
Ketchup, please. He just couldn't resist one more measly little bid.
£15,005.50. And then, well nothing.
Nada. Endville.
OK, shut the fuck up, Gary.
Point is, we bought it.
We are the purchasers.
Ta-dah!
So you've got £15,005.50 on you, have you?
We've got £34.
£34, Eugene. That's not a poke in the eye, so to speak.
I'm calling a cab.
Hey slow down.
Banana milkshake? Thank you.
If it's all such a sodding joke, why do you even want it?
I got a friend with a visual impairment.
You're going to re-sell it online, aren't you?
You cheap little gits. You know he's out there... Who? The alien, and he'll pay anything.
Eugene, man, I'm as partial as the next guy to a bit of sci-fi but...
A green geezer with six eyes?
Get real, guy. I checked the bid history.
Mr C Blackstaff is a collector of alien ephemera and Nazi memorabilia.
Also beanie babies.
Teeny bit cuckoo, but endearingly rich.
And if he's willing to pay 15,000...
Oi!
So now they're inconveniencing customers.
You stepped in? Well, I tried.
I didn't really know what the eye was any more...
.. but I was damned if I was going to let it go for £34 and a banana milkshake.
Heimlich!
Heimlich! What are you doing? Getting the goods, idiot! Get the milkshake!
Well, that's just not acceptable behaviour.
Not at a Happy Cook. They were making a public spectacle of themselves.
And that was it, he was out the door and gone.
Oh, my God! That is so weird!
You bastards! You are so dead!
I mean, Josh, you're just a dickhead, but Gary...
We were... I mean, we were mates. Hi, doll.
Are you talking to me? Yeah.
Sorry. Look, I don't know whether you remember us from last week. Yes.
Yeah, now the thing is, there may be people coming in to ask questions.
A woman specifically. And I think...
Josh. ..it would be in your best interests if... Shut up, Josh.
The woman is complying, man.
OK. Cool.
What did you do that for, twat?
I miss him!
So he ran out the door and you two ran after him? Yeah.
We chased him across the car park.
But Eugene was quite fast.
Josh had new shoes, he was making a fuss...
Hey, hey... You are overweight.
He hared across the road and we lost him.
Honest to God.
OK.
That's it.
OK.
All those cars. All those lives moving through space...
Hello. Can you give me the number for Filey Garage, Filey Road, Cardiff, please?
All that humanity whizzing by in a frenzy of burgers and chips,
bank holiday fun, burst tyres, screaming kids
and sudden heart-attacks. Put me through, thanks.
Mr Jones?
You don't know me, but I'm a friend of your son Eugene.
I've got some bad news, I'm afraid. Now I remember.
Apart from a buzzing in my ear where Josh whacked me, I felt good.
I was running across a field on a Saturday morning.
The smell of exhaust and banana milkshake,
a slight nausea, heart beating too fast cos I wasn't that fit - all the stuff that tells you you're alive.
By rights, I should be well pissed off -
my mates had cheated on me
and I didn't meet any aliens, but I realised that when I swallowed the
eye at the Happy Cook, I was given a chance to look back on my life and see it for what it really was.
Gary, I'm going to miss you.
Not the biggest turn-out you could hope for, but still.
I wish I could...
God, Gwen, I wish I could say thank you.
And here he is...
..my dad,
only 14 years late.
So, now I know it wasn't my fault my dad left,
and that, of course, he wasn't Superman
or an alien,
he's just an ordinary bloke.
Eugene...
He was a good boy,
but somehow...
things went wrong. I wasn't there.
I wish I could have seen him... before...
An ordinary bloke who made a mess of things.
No!
Not yet.
Dad made a mess of things and went away,
and that's a shame really, it's a terrible pity,
because we missed each other.
Completely.
You know, 28 is one of those perfect numbers.
It's equal to the sum of its divisors.
I'm 28.
I was 28.
I think I'm going to have to go soon, Gwen.
Oh, God.
Yeah.
Also, 28 centimetres per second is the top speed of a lone lobster.
Oh, hi.
Thank you. I'm sorry I had to ask you to do that.
Yeah, no problem.
So, if it's the eye that's been keeping me here,
now it's no longer inside me, why the hell am I still hanging around?
Eugene?
The eye is in the bag now, rather than in you.
Are you...?
Hello, stranger! Did you get it? Yeah, I got it.
Impressive.
Well, we haven't done the tests yet, so...
Come on. We've got to go.
Jack, can you give me five? Yeah.
In an average lifetime, the human heart will beat two million times.
You'll produce over eight thousand gallons of saliva and grow 350 miles of hair.
You'll eat the equivalent in weight of six elephants.
Oh, isn't life amazing! Gwen!
GWEN!
Hi. Oh, my God.
Eugene! Are you OK?
It is so good to see you.
Eugene, you're on my leg.
Sorry! Sorry. No, no, it's fine.
It's fine. It's fine. It's fine.
Can he see me?
(Eugene... ) He can see me!
Thanks.
No, thank you. Thank you. You just saved my life.
That's OK.
That's unbelievable. That's un-bloody-believable.
Oh, God...
I think that's it.
Goodbye, Gwen.
Don't go now, Eugene.
Eugene, please don't go now.
Eugene, please...
Please!
The average life is full of near misses and absolute hits, of great love and small disasters.
It's made up of banana milkshakes, loft insulation and random shoes.
It's dead ordinary, and truly, truly amazing.
What you've got to realise is, it's all here, now.
So breathe deep and swallow it whole.
Because take it from me, life just whizzes by, and then, all of a sudden, it's...
At least it wasn't a spaceship full of aliens.
Which year? I need to know. 1953.
Just three lost people who've somehow become our responsibility.
A man like you, out of his time, alone and scared.
I hate this filthy stinking place!
I died once. It's like two separate worlds.
There's Torchwood... then there's real life.
I'm scared.
Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd 2006
E-mail subtitling@bbc.co.uk