“Torchwood: Miracle Day”: We’re Off to See the Bloodline, the Wonderful Bloodline of Jack

Previously on Torchwood, Three Families — The A-b-l-e-m-a-r-c-h-e-s, the C-o-s-t-e-r-d-a-n-e-s, and the F-r-i-n-e-s — flipped the switch on death for everyone except Captain Jack and Captain Jack’s long lost boyfriend/repeated murderer Angelo Colesanto. Too bad Jack accidentally killed ol’ Angelo when he took him off of life support. Also too bad: Jack got himself shot in the gut. It’s been a rough couple of weeks for the good Captain, is what I am saying.


Robin Hood: [Smashes her car into the chemist, nearly killing an elderly man and his fluffy little dog.]

Elderly Man and His Fluffy Little Dog: Could it be? Is it she?

Robin Hood: Yes, old man! It is I! Robbing pharmaceuticals from the rich to give to the poor! Here, have some! And take some to your friends! Pharmaceuticals for everyone!

Elderly Man and His Fluffy Little Dog: Thank you.

Robin Hood: You’re welcome. Now take your drugs and get out of here before I shoot you in your grandpa-looking face. Once I get going with a handgun, I find it hard to stop.

Robin Hood: [Is actually Gwen Cooper.]


Gwen: It’s so cute how that Three Families surveillance guy across the street thinks we eat like sixty takeaway pizzas a day. 

Rhys: More drugs. Brilliant. Obviously I have arranged a delivery service for all the people we know who need medicinal supplies.

Gwen: And obviously I want to charge them money for it. 

Rhys: Sometimes I’m not sure you know how lucky you are to be married to the nicest guy on earth. 



Mama Cooper: Even though I never knew how to explain it to the ladies at church, I’m glad you grew up into a ninja vigilante. 

Gwen Cooper: Yeah. It’s easier when it’s not your own dad who’s dying on a cot in a dank cellar, though. It makes me really sad. Anyway, I’ve got to go polish my grenades. 


Captain Jack: Thanks for healing my gunshot wound and nursing me back to health. If it didn’t mean instant death for you, I’d probably sleep with you, due to our chemistry. 

Esther: That seems like something I’d be up for, except I’ve seen the first three seasons of this show and everyone you sleep with dies a horrific death. Now, hold still. I’ve only got to draw two more quarts of your blood to have enough to fill up an elephant-sized body. 

Captain Jack: My blood’s not special, you know.

Esther: The last episode of this series is called “The Blood Line,” so I’m guessing you’re wrong.



Gwen: Torchwood’s mighty software couldn’t find anything about the Three Families, and neither can the CIA, so I figured maybe Google could help me crack the case wide open.

Rhys: Another idea is that we could make out. 

Gwen: OK, but let’s not get too happy, or one of us will end up dead for sure.



Rex: Charlotte Wills, remember when you used to have a girlfriend? 

Charlotte Wills: Yeah, she broke up with me because I haven’t left this building in three months because of having to monitor your every move. 

Rex: Hi, chief. Let’s talk ambiguously about the catastrophic economic ramifications of The Miracle. 

Agent Shapiro: They are ambiguously catastrophic, it’s true, especially in terms of insurance and oil. 

Rex: If anyone is interested in being ridiculed/seeing me show off, I will now be making a presentation about The Miracle. Yes, the Ablemarches, the Costderdanes, and the Frines disappeared and took all the actual facts with them, but I think I’ve found a pulp fiction roman à clef written about the night Jack Harkness was repeatedly mauled to death in that butcher shop, which, mixed with some of the author’s brother’s crusty murder blood, will lead us to the Three Families by dinner time!

Charlotte: I’ll handle the DNA profile just in case that wasn’t the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.


Jilly Kitzinger: Just so you know, working with a pedophile was actually better than this whole “Families” gig.

Rolf Costerdane: How would you like to take a one-way trip to Shanghai to work directly with The Blessing?

Jilly Kitzinger: Meh, why not. Like I said, I’m pretty bored. 



Detective G. Reaper: Open up, this is the police! We’re here to burn your father alive! That’s the kind of world we’re living in now! The CIA has cut its gas allowance in half and I’m going door-to-door collecting the elderly for incineration! 

Gwen Cooper: I would like to rip your intestines from your body with my bare hands and then use them to hang you from a lamp post as a warning to other assholes, but my Batwoman costume is in the wash, so come on inside. Mind the hall closet. That’s where we keep our machine guns and flame throwers.

Detective G. Reaper: [Conducts as thorough an investigation as he can without his iPhone, then goes home to watch Star Wars and root for Darth Vader.]


Charlotte Wills: The one and only lead we’ve had for two months is at a dead end. 

Rex: I see no reason to double check the information you are giving me. 



Oswald Danes: Don’t mind me, just dropping off your groceries and picking up your child. 

Gwen: Right. I’ve always wanted a reason to beat you to death with an iron skillet. 

Rhys: Gwen, stop! I want a chance to beat him to death with an iron skillet. 

Oswald Danes: When you’re done beating me to death with an iron skillet, maybe you can get me some face time with Jack Harkness. Bring him to me and I’ll tell you the name of the guy who started the Miracle. 

Gwen: The last time someone told us that, Jack got shot. But OK. 



Rex: I am certain we have a mole, which I guess makes it even more ridiculous that I didn’t double check our one and only lead, but that’s OK because now I have 46 new leads. 

Agent Shapiro: How’d you swing that?

Rex: I ran the pulp fiction novel through the CSI Machine.

Agent Shapiro: Cool. Did you hear we’re probably getting a dictator?

Rex: Thank you for continuing to ambiguously remind me of the dire political effects of this Miracle, sir. 


Three Families PI: Hullo?

Gwen: Hullo! Hey, look behind you!

Jack Harkness: Hi ya, pal!

Three Families PI: Well, shit.

Jack Harkness: Yep. Here drink this retcon juice. All the cool kids are doing it. 



Gwen: Jack! I missed you! I missed you so much! I missed you so much I thought I would go insane with it! Let’s stand here in the doorway and practically make out!

Esther: Is it always like this?

Rhys: You have no idea. 


Oswald Danes: Good evening, Captain. First, I’d like to give everyone a chance to get their threats and insults out of the way. This isn’t my first time at the pedophile rodeo.

Gwen: In terms of monsters, you are the worst. And I say that as a woman who has seen actual monsters. 

Oswald Danes: Charming. Hey, how’s your dad, by the way? Doesn’t he get lonely hiding in the basement all by himself?

Gwen: Where’s my cast iron skillet? 

Esther: OK, let’s all calm down. Oswald, what’s your deal? Seriously. 

Oswald Danes: I can’t just tell you my deal. I have to preface everything I say with a reminder that I raped a child. After that, I can tell you how Jilly Kitzinger went missing at noon today. Poof! Off the grid!


Jilly Kitzinger: Hellloooo, Chi — where is everyone?



Captain Jack: Tell us the name of the man who started the Miracle, and hurry up. Dying is getting on my last nerve. 

Oswald Danes: OK, but first let me remind you: I’m a pedophile. 

Captain Jack: Yeah, we got it. 

Oswald Danes: The man’s name that kept recurring over and over and over in Kitzinger’s email was — wait for it! — Harry Bosco. 

Esther: Oh good Lord. Harry Bosco isn’t a man. Harry Bosco is the process Fox News uses to create “news.” It’s propaganda. Mistranslation. Glenn Beck quacking and pissing himself to distract people from actual facts.

Oswald Danes: So? Jilly Kitzinger works in PR. Why would she be Harry Bosco-ing? 

Esther: Uh, because she works in PR? The last thing she did was translate a bunch of YouTube videos from Wu to Mandarin to English. I think I’ll call Rex to see if he can hook us up with a Chinese translator, and also to tell him we think there’s something in Shanghai. 


Jilly Kitzinger: There are over a billion people in China, probably two billion now that everyone has stopped dying, yet everywhere I go I am the only person in China. 

An Ablemarch, I presume: Hey, what’s up? You’re just in from America, right? How’s my Jesse Eisenberg impression? I’ve got the hoodie, the gadgets, the haughtiness. You have part of my attention! You have the minimum amount! Good, right?

Jilly Kitzinger: I flew 20 straight hours for this? 

An Ablemarch: Well, this and I’m interested in staring at your rack. Hey, can you write history and not die in the face of Miracles like that other guy in Shanghai who threw himself off a roof a couple of episodes ago?

Jilly Kitzinger: I can literally do anything. 

An Ablemarch: OK, cool. See ya never then. 



Esther: This video of Kitzinger’s is a kid who blew up a blood bank in Shanghai. He says it was a blessing he didn’t die. 

Rex: Ooh, what if he meant THE Blessing saved his life?

Esther: Could be. Hey, you know what else is weird? A blood bank blew up in Buenos Aires at the same time, right before the Miracle. Probably there was only one blood bank in each city on account of their enormous populations. 

Rhys: You know what else is weird about Buenos Aires and Shanghai, according to this inflatable globe?


Detective G. Reaper: Too bad you’ll never find out! Because I’m here with my DeathTracker iPhone app! Time to light some human beings on fire! Oh, hey, you’ve got company. 

Gwen: One of them is not a notorious child molester. Also there are no rogue CIA Agents or alien fighters from the future in the kitchen. Or Category Ones in the cellar. And I think that covers all the people who aren’t here. 

Detective G. Reaper: It’s a very convincing story, except for the fact that, unlike you, DeathTracker NEVER LIES. If there is an old person in this house who I can burn to ashes, DeathTracker will find him. And — oh, look! It found him! To the oven, grandpa!

Captain Jack: I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?

Gwen: Yes. Get me my swimming costume. I’m dog paddling to Shanghai. 



Rex: Can I go off the grid? If you say no, I’m still going off the grid. 

Agent Shapiro: You mean like stop updating Facebook and Twitter? Yeah, I guess that’s fine. 

Rex: No. I mean, I’m going T-Rex ops. Torchwood Rex, get it? T-Rex?


Rhys: As I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted by that man who carted off your father to the concentration camp, Buenos Aires and Shanghai are on opposite sides of the world! It’s a fact according to the scientific calculations I did on this toy globe! 

Esther: You’re right! They’re antipodes! I can’t believe we couldn’t solve this thing just by looking at the PhiCorp logo! 

Gwen: Jack and I can go to Shangahi. 

Esther: And I’ll meet Rex in Buenos Aires. 

Oswald Danes: And I’ll come along too, because it’d be weird if I didn’t play a part in the resolution of this conflict seeing as I’ve already eaten up so much screen time. 



Rex: The only way I could get this mysterious package through customs was through official diplomatic channels, which means: a) I’m not off the grid at all, and b) the mole I’m convinced we have in our department will track me down in about ten seconds. 

Esther: I’m starting to think you’re not so good at your job. 


Jilly Kitzinger: I’ve flown halfway around the world to click-clack these heels down an ominous alley in the middle of the night before feasting my eyes on the cause of the collapse of the whole entire world. I don’t know if I’m the queen of Gryffindor or the queen of Slytherin, but goddamit, I’m the queen of something.

Mrs. Miracle Maker: Funny you should mention Hogwarts, the Miracle kind of works like the Mirror of Erised AND The Philosopher’s Stone. You see the deepest, most desperate desire of your heart, and you better hope your heart is awesome because you’re going to have to live with it for all eternity.

Jilly Kitzinger: Torchwood’s Big Bad reveals are never what you think they’re going to be, are they? The music’s good, though. And my acting is superb, per usual.  

Mrs. Miracle Maker: What does the Miracle show you? 

Jilly Kitzinger: I already told you: That I’m the queen of the world. And that those ladies on Mad Men cannot compare to me, lipstick-wise.


Gwen: Let’s change out your band-aids — look, I’ve got Dora the Explorer; you love Dora the Explorer — and then we’ll discuss the best way to track down the Miracle. 

Oswald Danes: Maybe we could follow Jack’s blood drops. Being a pedophile, I’m no expert on crime solving, but it’s weird what Jack’s blood is doing, right? Rolling purposefully into the city like that?

Gwen: It’s the Miracle, Jack! It’s calling for your blood! Good thing Esther took several gallons of it with her! Hang on, what’s this? Rex checked into FourSquare at the Buenos Aires airport? If somebody has to die this time around, he really is the one who deserves it. 

Captain Jack: You know that’s not the way it works. Torchwood life is the opposite of fair. The good guys die first. 

Oswald Danes: Holy crap, I really am going to live forever! 

Heather Hogan is a freelance writer/editor from Atlanta, GA. You can find her on Twitter (<a href="https://twitter.com/hhoagie">@hhoagie</a>) and <a href="http://heatherannehogan.tumblr.com/">on Tumblr</a>.