“One, one zero, one one,” Tosh counts, careful not to damage the grains of sugar with the duplicator. It had taken her some time first to find the controls and then to calibrate the field to less than a millimetre. Remarkably, ‘hit hard to duplicate’ didn’t work for everything.
“One zero one, one one zero, one one one.” The pile grows. Tosh estimates that it will take her one day to fill the Hub with sugar. Geometric progression trumps time, a slow beginning and a swift end: a quarter, a half, full.
“In future,” Ianto tells her, “I’m buying cubed.”