#evil!jeff

A polite ‘ahem’ drew his attention back to the here and now. "Please empty your pockets," Captain Blue ordered in a neutral tone, gesturing to the tray on the table.

Jeff wanted to rage at the man and his supernatural calm, but Scarlet was behind his fellow officer - half turned away to talk to someone but by no means inattentive - and Scott wasn't around to keep them in check. He put his wallet, phone, and assorted bits and pieces in the tray.

"Tie, please."

"Why?' Was this coloured lackey going to strip him bare?

He couldn't see Blue's eyebrows, but he did see the ice blue eyes narrow. "Because you can't keep anything that could be used to harm your guards or yourself. Tie, belt, and shoelaces. Please."

Jeff tried to take a deep breath to yell but his chest was still tight. "Are you going to take my socks too?"

"I hadn't planned to, but since you suggested it, yes. Socks too, please."

Jeff throttled down his first response, which was to yell. He tried to take a deep breath, failed, but sucked down as much air as he could. "I want to speak to Charles." "Who, sir? We have no one named Charles," Blue told him in that placidly infuriating voice.

Jeff fought the snarl and strove for calm. If they wanted to play games, he would show them he'd been playing games before they were born. "May I please speak with your superior, Colonel White?" He looked around. "Can I have a chair to sit on?"

"A chair could be a weapon, but you may use the edge of the table for removing your socks and shoelaces."

Jeff gritted his teeth, tried not to rub at his chest, because this was the worst case of heartburn ever and asked, "What about seeing White?" If he could just talk to Charles…

"Colonel White is currently unavailable." Scarlet informed him in just as bland a voice as the mic flipped back up into hiding. "He's speaking with World President Younger."

That was an angle he could get Tobias to work, that this was a political hack job by the man that Jeff was trying to replace. ‘I just have to get hold of someone and talk to them to get the ball rolling.’ Jeff slowly divested himself of the requested items. He was doing so for three reasons: to annoy these coloured clowns, to buy time for his people to get him out of here, and lastly, because he hurt. It had been a hell of an adrenaline crash, but if he could just catch a proper breath, he could calm that down. "Now what?"

"Now, we take you to a cell until we're told what to do with you."

Jeff brought his chin up. "Don't I get to call my lawyer first? Get fingerprinted and photographed?" Oh, when he got the presidency he was going to make these asshats rue the day they were born.

"We're Spectrum." The tiniest of smiles flitted across Blue's face. "If we've arrested you, we already have your fingerprints and photograph. As for a lawyer; they're already here."

"Then I demand to see them!" Jeff tried to order, but his command tone just bounced off the two men. “It's my right to have my lawyer!"

"Present for questioning," Scarlet said in the crispest English accent Jeff had ever heard. "We aren't going to question you. There needs to be the arraignment first." Scarlet's eyes glittered. "We obey the laws." Blue slid the tray into a bag, sealed, wrote his name on it, and tore a small tag off that he handed to Jeff. "Receipt for your things. They will be returned to you on your release." He stepped back and gestured to the door that Scarlet was opening. "This way please."

For half a second, Jeff considered throwing some haymakers and trying to escape, but that's what the guilty did. He wasn't guilty of anything, other than not having better security. Blue and Scarlet were also out of easy swinging range, and a small part of his brain pointed out that while at one point he might have been able to take them both on, that was thirty years and a trip to the Oort Cloud ago. Attacking them now would be stupid. He strode out of the door with Scarlet preceding him and Blue behind him - nicely bracketed him from trying anything. 

Jeff ground his teeth. Once Tobias and the nastiest lawyers he could find got him out of this, he was going to eviscerate Spectrum and burn Cloudbase. 

Scarlet stopped and pulled a door open. Jeff had been too lost in thoughts of revenge to pay much attention to the corridor they were in. "In here. Please." 

Jeff hadn't been sure what he was expecting, maybe a barred cube like the one back in Kansas he ended up in once or twice when his temper had gotten the better of him in high school. But as had been pointed out, this was Spectrum. He stepped into the room with as much dignity as he could and the door closed behind him with a well muffled thud. 

Jeff turned slowly in a circle; the room was small, maybe 2m by 3m. A shelf that was bolted to the wall was obviously the bed, going by the mattress, pillow, and blanket. The headboard of the bed made a small private area with a combination sink toilet. Which was all there was in the way of furnishings. The walls were concrete and painted the very palest blue. The ceiling was a giant light panel with that slight distortion you got with very thick lexan. There was a covered window in the door and fifty centimetres below that was a slot, also covered. Painted on the wall next to the door, in industrial lettering was a list. Lights on at 6am and out 10pm. Meals would be 7am, 1pm and 6pm. An admonishment not to attempt to damage anything within the cell or it would be taken away was the final item. 

Jeff sat down on the end of the bed and put his head in hands. ‘This is all the Bastard's fault and I should have killed him when I had the chance.’ A minute of feeling sorry for himself, then Jeff dropped his hands and curled them into fists. ‘I’ll get out of here,’ he swore to himself, ‘I’ll get out of here and I’ll make that second chance happen. No one gets to humiliate me like this. No one.’ 

T H U N D E R F A L L 

As soon as the door was locked and secured, both Blue and Scarlet took in a deep, tightly controlled breath and let it out just as slowly. 

Not responding to the man’s jibes and not giving in to the base and primal urge to hurt the one who’d hurt their friends had taken a great deal of effort. 

“Well, we got him in there alive and undamaged. He’s their problem now.” Blue made a vague gesture up towards where the staff of Spectrum’s New York office were gearing up and girding themselves for whatever UnNamed’s legion of lawyers would be throwing at them, not to mention whatever the man himself would pull. He was cornered, and a cornered animal was always the most dangerous. 

“Very much so.” Scarlet flicked his hands like he was shaking off something distasteful and turned to lead the way back to the conference room the colonel had booked for his online meeting with WP Younger to brief him on the situation. “When we get back to base, hot shower first or percussive therapy first?” 

“Hot shower, percussive therapy, and another hot shower,” Blue answered. “I feel…” he shuddered, “contaminated… after all that.” 

“Good plan.” Scarlet nodded, then stopped and gave his friend a searching look. “Blue, the boardroom, are you okay?” 

Adam nodded slowly. Seeing his father had been an unwelcome surprise - he hadn’t expected him to be there today - but to his eternal gratitude John Svenson had played his part and hadn’t addressed him by name. “Yeah, I’m okay. Paperwork for it’s going to be a pain in the ass though. Coffee and a snack before we see the Colonel?” 

Paul nodded his agreement to both: if someone recognised you in uniform, it required a detailed contact report and they were on a mission so eating when you got the chance was modus operandi, you never knew when you’d next get a chance to get something down your throat. “I heard the canteen here is pretty good, and we can bring the Colonel something too.” 

“S.I.G.” 

T H U N D E R F A L L

In the privacy of his quarters, Scott threw up for what he hoped was the last time, grabbed a towel to wipe his face and leaned on the wall next to the toilet. It was one thing to know the man that had contributed to your genes was trying to buy slaves for his plans, it was quite another to actually hear him doing it. For a minute he wished for Kayo, but he’d needed some alone time and a RoS nap, and she’d needed sleep, food, and someone to spar with. His mistake had been using that alone time to check the news and ask Cloud for any updates before his nap.

Cobalt, I am sorry. I did not know this would cause you such distress. Cloud's voice was a bare whisper.

Scott waved his hand. "Not your fault. I'm the one that asked to be kept updated on - on UnNamed's movements and any reports about him." He levered himself upright and washed his face and mouth before going back into his room.

There would be no going back to sleep after listening to that, thank goodness for the RoS, it would be the only way he'd get any rest tonight. He set the kettle to boil and started to make coffee. He needed something to help him look vaguely human or the techs would never let him use the Room later.

He was pouring water into the cup when the intercom sounded.

"Cobalt? It's Xanthic. Cloud said you needed assistance?"

Scott didn’t hesitate for a moment. “Yeah, I do.” A glance up at the ceiling and he murmured a grateful “Thank you, Cloud,” as he crossed the floor and let Gordon in. 

Striding in, Gordon was looking rumpled but alert, wearing a ridiculous fluffy clownfish onesie he’d picked up somewhere. Concerned carnelian eyes searched his face, then hardened when Gordon spied the sprinkling of red flecks under his eyes that he knew he always got after a particularly violent session of throwing up. “What happened?” Gordon demanded, taking Scott’s shoulder to spin him around and push him in the direction of the couch. 

Scott let himself be manhandled along, when the Fish got set on a course like this, it was easier to go with the current and he didn’t have the energy to fight. “Cloud just told me that UnNamed has been arrested,” he said as he was pressed to sit. “I… I watched the bulletin that Kat put out, it had audio clips from the sat phone recordings. Gordon, he was negotiating for people and calling them ‘products’.” 

In the middle of plunking down the things for making a second coffee, Gordon stilled. “...hell. Keep the others from hearing?” 

Scott mustered the energy for a nod and a wry expression. “Ten bucks says John’s already heard it, but…” the twist to his mouth faded, “...we need to convince Alan that he doesn’t need to hear it.” He didn’t need to elaborate. Alan’s hero-worship of UnNamed had almost eclipsed Scott’s, hearing those clips… it would not be good for Alan, especially with what the young man was already going through. 

Gordon was already looking up at the ceiling. "Hey Cloud?" Yes, Captain Xanthic?"Could you please restrict Thunderbird Three's access to the news? Especially that report about UnNamed. Hearing that might make him undergo another system crash."

There was a long pause. I will attempt to do so, but I do not control all his accesses.

"That's fine, any little bit is a help." Gordon made his coffee and plunked down next to Scott, handing Scott's over. "Do I need the details, or shall I just assume the absolute worst?" "Assume the worst and times it by ten." Scott let the heat from his mug soak into his fingers, there was no way he was going to try drinking the coffee just yet. "We'll have to keep Kayo from trying to kill him," he sighed, "and this just might break Virgil too."

"You'll have to keep Tan from doing that. She won't listen to anyone else once she gets going." Gordon drank some coffee. "As for Virg, I'm damn glad he's got Orchid to talk to."

"Do we want to tell the others now?" Gordon shook his head. "No, let them sleep, this news already stinks like low tide, waiting won't make it any worse."

“Yeah…” Scott trailed off, staring into the opaque depths of his coffee like an oracle staring into her bowl in hopes of answers. 

“Scooter?” 

Scott registered the sound of a cup being put down, then there were arms around his shoulders and a head resting against his. It was comforting and warm and reassuring and safe, something that he dearly needed right now. A full puppy pile would have been better, but that would mean waking up the others and they needed sleep right now. “...I keep telling myself that he can’t hurt you all anymore… that he can’t get at you now… he’s all locked up and White’s gonna keep the key in his gun safe… I’m not sure if I believe it yet.” 

The remonstrative pat on the back of his head was a surprise that had him flinching, his coffee sloshing in the mug but thankfully not spilling.

“You left someone out of that list: you,” Gordon informed him, scowling. “UnNamed can’t get at you anymore either.” He softened, took the cup out of his hands and put it down on the floor before there could be another near miss, then tugged him into a closer hug, their foreheads touching. “Stop skipping yourself, Scooter, you matter too, remember?”

For once Scott let himself be the one to be comforted. "I - I'll try, but…" "It's an ingrained habit." Gordon sighed. "I just wish you'd never gotten into it in the first place." He tightened his hold. 

"It wasn't so bad before Mom died…" "STOP that." Gordon pulled back to lock gazes with his big brother. "You don't have to defend him, not anymore, not ever again. Dammit Scooter, you protected us from so much, more than you should have needed to. UnNamed isn't our dad, you are. You're the one that was there for everything from scraped knees, to swim practice, to packing lunches, and more than I can even count." He touched foreheads with Scott again. "Please, please let us carry you for once?" 

Scott immediately stomped on the nasty little voice in the back of his head that muttered its poisonous litany of ‘not allowed to need anything/ can’t be a burden/ gotta put your family first and look after them that’s what your purpose is’. It wasn’t easy, not by a long shot, but thanks to the time he’d put in with Juniper and others he was able to lift his proverbial foot and slam his heel down onto that voice. How long he’d be able to keep it quiet was another matter entirely, but right now he could, and he’d take every win he could get right now. 

“...okay…” The word was uttered in a voice that was little more than a whisper as Scott let himself lean on his brother and be comforted by the arms around him. “… I’ll try…”

“That’s all we ask, big bro, that you try and you let us try.” Gordon murmured back, holding him tightly. “We’re gonna sit here for a bit, then I’m getting some food into you and two of your sleeping pills, and we’re gonna get some sleep, clear?”  

“But…” Scott couldn’t stop the protest, tensing up and trying to pull away. He knew that Gordon knew what his sleeping pills would do: he’d be dead to the world for at least five hours and automatically scratched from any missions for twelve. He needed to be able to respond! What if someone needed him? 

The arms around him tightened for a moment, keeping him in place. “We’re off the roster and natural sleep is better. Put your own oxygen mask on first, remember?” 

“...yeah…” Scott relaxed back into the embrace by fractions. “Yeah…okay Gordon, we’ll do it your way.” 

T H U N D E R F A L L

"So when do we plan our escape?"

Sitting up in bed as he idly watched an episode of his favourite show - muted and on subtitles -  John turned his attention to Virgil, speaking quietly to avoid waking Alan, who was sleeping between them again. "I thought we were being good." "Well, what's your favourite phrase," Virgil did an impression of Winnie the Pooh trying to think, "oh, right, 'for some values of being 'good'."

"The walls getting to you, little brother?" John smiled.

"After a fashion, yeah. That taste of freedom yesterday on the Promenade was pretty sweet. I really want to spend the day there just to sketch and draw." John grinned at the hand twitch from Virgil. He hadn’t seen 'Artist Need to Art' in far too long, it was so very, very good to see it once again. He gave the door a once over and ran through the schematics in his head. “This is the ‘escape proof’ ward they made for Scarlet, so getting at the lock from the inside isn’t going to be easy, especially without tools. We’ve also got these to fool,” he waved a careless hand at the ‘bot nurses still attached to them both, “and Cloud’s keeping tabs on us.” 

“Can’t EOS fool the ‘nurses?” 

No, and EOS sounded ever so put out about that as her icon blinked into life. SOMEone has enhanced their firewalls. 

It seemed to be a wise precaution, Cloud sniffed in response. 

That got Virgil tilting his head curiously at the camera in the corner of the room. “Cloud, if this is the special ward and you’re actively monitoring this room and the autonurses, how does Scarlet keep getting out?” 

49.2% of Captain Scarlet’s escapes from Medical are with external assistance, Cloud informed them. One of the other captains or an Angel provides a distraction or gives him escape equipment, or one of the nurses deliberately neglects to lock the door. When I have queried this, they have explained that they made a clinical decision to let him out after completing a risk assessment that balances the likelihood of Captain Scarlet reinjuring himself against his worsening mental health from his agitation at being ‘cooped up’. They also factor in his boredom, the increasingly creative lengths he will go to in order to alleviate his boredom, and the likelihood of him injuring himself in the process.   

“Huh.” John pondered that for a moment. “Do the doctors know about this?” 

Negative, the nurses have informed me that it would be detrimental to inform them as the benefits of the entertainment Captain Scarlet derives from escaping outweighs the risks of him doing himself harm. A pause, then Cloud added The doctors also appear to enjoy the challenge of keeping Captain Scarlet in place, despite the frustration it causes them. 

“So if we were to indicate that our mental health is degrading due to being cooped up in here…?” John ventured.   

…I do not have authority to make a clinical decision on your care, Cloud announced. One moment.  

The door swished open a few minutes later to admit Kirimiko. “So I’m informed that your mental health is being ‘adversely affected’ and would be improved by a visit to the Promenade?” she quietly asked with a smile as she first went to the auto nurses to check on the readings, then checked the levels on the IV bags still hooked up to them. 

“Absolutely,” John nodded. He knew Kirimiko well enough from his last stay to be able to slot into the long running game that played out every time a patient got twitchy. “You’ve got an artist locked in a box with only walls to stare at. When he goes he’ll take everyone else with him,” John went on, talking over Virgil’s (soft) offended exclamation of ‘hey!’. 

“I see.” Kirimiko nodded as she finished her checks. “So why aren’t you two asleep?” 

“Our sleep schedules are more like suggestions,” Virgil admitted. “We both crashed out this afternoon, so we’ll be up for a few hours, then we’ll crash out again and wake up for breakfast.” 

“That makes sense.” She mulled things over, then nodded to herself and took two disk-shaped objects from her scrubs pocket. “Well, since I’ve already gotten a promise of appropriate supervision,” she pointed to Cloud’s camera, “I’m going to leave these portable medical monitors here to cover any interruption in signal when the robot nurses are somehow turned off,” the disks were placed on John’s meal table, “and as long as you’re back before Fawn’s next ward rounds in a couple of hours, I’ll ‘accidentally’ leave the door unlocked. Deal?” 

“Deal,” John and Virgil chorused. 

Kirimiko winked at them and swept out. 

"That was easier than I thought it would be." Virgil rolled out of bed and looked the robot nurse over. John handed over one of the monitors. "I suspect that supervised 'escapes' are much easier on staff, equipment, and patients than dramatic ones." 

"Huh." Virgil synced his device up then locked off his IV. While sleep, food, and nutrition had worked wonders, Virgil knew not to think he was healthy. He knew he wasn't, but he was feeling so much better- and evidently better enough to risk challenging the CMO. "I wonder if that would work for us. Letting S - " He froze and turned to John, realisation writ large on his face. "Is that the endgame? Us being - well, us again? Thunderbirds and family?"

John got out of bed far more slowly than Virgil had, the strain of a hard re-entry, gravity, and the amount of stress he'd put himself through to rescue EOS had taken a heavy toll on his barely recovered body. "That's always been my plan." He stretched gently, then snagged EOS’ projector. "Maybe not him getting vilified in the press, but removing him from our lives, iR, and TI? Yes, even if I had to pay him off." "How in Dante's Nine Hells would you have been able to do that?" Virgil just stared with a loose jaw. "He's one of the richest men on the planet." 

"There are things more important than money, little brother." The turquoise eyes glinted. "Trust me on this." 

Virgil shivered a little. He rarely saw this side of John and he hoped to keep it that way. 

“...mrrph?” Alan muzzily raised his head from where he’d been practically face planted into the mattress and blinked at them, heavy eyed. “Wutry’doin’?” 

“Escaping.” John was very nonchalant as he clipped the monitor to the collar of his scrubs, made sure it was working, and poked the big green on/off button on his ‘nurse. “Coming?” 

“Mm.” Alan poured himself out of bed and onto his feet with a sort of boneless grace. “Sounds g’d.” He yawned and scrubbed a hand over his eyes as Virgil clipped on his own monitor and switched off his ‘nurse. “Where’we goin’?”

If I may suggest a change in plans, Cloud interjected, Captain Cobalt and Captain Xanthic may require your assistance. Captain Cobalt is experiencing difficulties. I can guide you to Captain Cobalt’s cabin.

The tiredness fell away from Thunderbird Three like the blanket did. "What's the situation?" he demanded.

I am unsure. He had a severe bout of emesis. I alerted Captain Xanthic, but the supplemental support seems to be insufficient.

"What the hell could make Scott throw up?” Three looked at his brothers, then narrowed his eyes. "I'm not a kid anymore, please don't try to treat me like one."

Two made himself relax slightly - it wouldn’t do to stress Alan any more than they had to. "Right now, we need to deal with the problem, then we find the cause." "Rescue first, questions later." Five looked up at the camera. "Please show us to Cobalt's quarters, Cloud."

S.I.G. Make your way to the main foyer, then turn left.

T H U N D E R F A L L 

Oddly grateful that he'd been left his watch, Jeff confirmed that he'd missed lunch, a fact his stomach agreed with. He chuckled sourly, he'd missed lunch twice today. Now he'd have to wait until 6 pm for dinner. Not that he was sure he wanted food, this whole situation made even the thought of food revolting. 

He pushed himself up off the edge of the sorry excuse for a bed and started pacing in a tight circle. ‘They can’t keep me here forever. No way in hell. Not even with those ‘charges’ they’ve got lined up. Lee’ll be out by evening, it was just attempted assault, and he will go off on a tear…’ Jeff smirked to himself. Once that man got a head of steam going, there was no stopping him. It made him very useful. ‘If Tobias isn’t moving quick enough, he’ll take charge of things. Man’s not the brightest, but he knows how to get shit done.’

T H U N D E R F A L L 

Scowling, Gordon examined the contents of Scott’s cupboard of emergency food. Logically he didn’t need one - the commissary always had food out and the base shop was 24/7 - but old habits were hard to shake. 

In amongst the jars of coffee and one tin of loose leaf English Breakfast tea, there was half a carton of protein bars, a big box of meal replacement shake sachets, a jar of whey powder, dried mangos, figs and apples, and a dozen packets of jerky and biltong. All of it was nutrient dense, grab-and-go food, and a terrible idea for someone who’d just been praying at the porcelain altar. 

He threw a worried glance over his shoulder at Scott, now half curled up on the couch, and ran the numbers on how safe it would be to leave him alone for however long it would take to duck out and get some plain crackers and soda, verses making a quick call to one of the others for some supplies. ‘They’d be more than happy to help, but Scott’s in a tricky spot right now, I don’t know how he’s going to react to one of the others or an Angel showing up.’ The coffee had been barely touched, and he knew that Scott needed something in his belly. ‘Big bro always forgets to eat when something bad is happening, can’t have him crashing out on me and getting hauled into Medical. That’d be ten kinds of bad.’   

The chime of the intercom interrupted his planning.

“Cobalt? Xanthic?” John’s voice floated through. “Let us in before we get caught out here?” 

Gordon leapt for the door before Scott could get his limbs to obey him. "Get in, quick!" He herded the trio in, looked both ways in the hall, and ducked back inside. "How the Hell did you get out?"

"Cloud helped us escape when he told us Cobalt was having issues." Five brought the full focus of his attention onto Xanthic. "What's happened?"

Xanthic ran a hand through his hair and pulled Five away from the cuddle pile currently happening on the couch as Virgil and Alan curled up with Scott. "There was breaking news.” He kept his voice down. “Someone, and my money is on Scarlet, gave Kat some of the sat phone records. Martyr boy over there asked Cloud to alert him about any news about UnNamed…" "And he listened to it without support nearby." Five looked heavenward. "Shadow is going to kick his ass."

"I'll bring the popcorn." Xanthic cracked a faint grin, then sobered. "We can't let Three hear it. Not now, not when he's so fragile." Five's laser focus turned back to his brother. "Do you know what happened?"

"No," Xanthic shook his head. "I don't know for sure, but I've got a damn good idea."

Five looked away and swore softly. “Okay, this is going to need all of us.” 

“I’ve got that second mattress in my cabin,” Xanthic reminded him. “Let’s migrate over. I’ll get some snacks that’ll be safe for him and go get Shadow while you three monitor him.” He reached out to the small collection of medicine bottles that Scott kept near the kitchenette sink and grabbed the zopiclone. “You three can get two of these into him while I’m out.” 

Five took the bottle without question. “What about Penny?” 

Xanthic shook his head. “She’ll be down for the count, Burgundy gave her some pretty heavy meds so she could sleep with her leg wound, it kept waking her every time she rolled over.” It went without saying that Parker, Bertie and Lil would be staying with Penelope, Rigby and Dosela weren’t qualified for this, and Brains and MAX were out of the question too, Brains was just too delicate right now.

“Understood,” Five nodded, then waved at the trio on the couch. “Let’s move.” 

It was one of those scenes that would be funny in hindsight, once time had softened the sharp edges of memories and emotions that right now cut like razors. 

Xanthic, still in his clownfish onesie and still without a single shred of self consciousness about it, was first. He peeped out the door, checked left and right and checked again, listened intently for boots on the deck, then waved his brothers out and fell into place at the tail of the group. Scott led the way because he knew Gordon’s door code, the other three brothers following so close behind him that they actually did bump into each other when Scott froze at the sound of a thud behind Ochre’s door. Thankfully it was just the other captain moving furniture or falling out of bed or something because nothing else happened and they got past Ochre and Magenta’s cabins without being caught. Four button presses later and they were safely into Gordon’s room, the door shut behind them. 

“Right, shoes off and time to get comfortable!” Gordon announced, picking up and dragging his floor mattress over to make more room. “Al, get the covers off my bed and help me get that one too, it’s puppy pile time!” 

“Been way too long.” Alan managed a smile despite the situation. “The one in Medical was okay, but we’re way past due for a proper one.” 

“Here here,” Virgil chimed in, trusting Scott to John’s care as he moved to help. They quickly had the two mattresses on the floor, blankets and duvets spread over them both, and pillows were tossed in. EOS’ projector went onto the coffee table, and all was ready for use.

By unspoken agreement, Alan, Virgil and John didn’t give Scott a chance to argue, piling into the resulting nest with him in the middle, while Gordon (still wearing the fluffy onesie), grabbed his earbud, went to the door, shoved his feet back into his sneakers, and tossed off an irreverent salute and “Imma get snacks, behave,” as he keyed the door and headed out into the main areas of Cloudbase. 

The staff of Cloudbase were fairly used to the Colour Officers wandering the base at strange hours. Odd duty shifts, just back from a mission, or sadly more commonly, nightmares, had them all up and about at all hours. Xanthic, clad in a clown fish onesie and sneakers, garnered no more looks than Scarlet did in hot pink scrubs covered in Hello Kitty faces. Actually Scarlet might have gotten more attention, just to see if he was leaving a blood trail or not. Xanthic’s response of 'Nightmares' to the unasked question from the commissary attendants got him cans of ginger soda, dry saltines, bottles of weak tea, jello cups, and small containers of peanut butter loaded into a box with utensils, secured with a promise that if Cobalt wasn't better he'd alert Medical. Which was an easy promise to make, because Scott would be better. Food, family where he could see and touch them, and a puppy pile would work wonders. 

The box got a couple of glances as he walked back to his room, but ever since the dust up with the unlamented Steel, people didn't ask about the things Xanthic carried. In the length of time he'd been gone, he found that Scott had been cocooned in the pile of blankets with Virgil telling the story of some rescue to a rapt Alan and an increasingly droopy-eyed Scott. 

"How'd you get the meds into him?" Gordon asked as John helped him unpack the supplies. John quirked a grin. "Easy, Alan told him he'd pin Scott to the floor while Virgil shoved the pills down his throat if he didn't take them by himself."

Gordon looked over his shoulder at their youngest brother. "I'm beginning to wonder who's scarier, Al or Tan."

"Alan, he's a better programmer than Kayo is." 

Gordon took a moment to think about that, then cracked a grin back. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” He dusted his hands off, pleased that things were working out. “I’ll go get her.” 

“F.A.B.” John nodded, picking up a can of soda and already calculating how to get it into Scott before he finished passing out.

T H U N D E R F A L L 

After getting an update from Cloud on events ‘downstairs’ and finding Kayo’s VIP suite empty, Gordon hazarded a guess and made his way down to the gym. He got there just as he heard a very familiar “Kii-ya!”, followed by an equally familiar ‘whap’ of a body hitting the mat.

Thunderbird Shadow was grinning tightly and rolling out of the way a split second before Harmony’s axe kick hit the spot where her lower back had been. A quick movement and she was back on her feet and lunging, turning her momentum into a sudden twist with a flying heel thrown at Harmony’s face. Harmony blocked it with both forearms, then grabbed Shadow’s leg and used it to send her flying again. This time Shadow went with it, her other heel hooking up in a strike at Harmony’s chest and making enough contact to send her stumbling back a half-step.

Gordon waited on the sidelines to be noticed, he knew far better than to jump in when the experts were at it.

Kayo managed to keep from tumbling too far and whipped her legs around to scythe into Harmony's leg, just behind her knees, and sent the Angel sprawling. Kayo slapped the mat twice, which Harmony replied with two more slaps and slumped on to the mat. "Good match."

Kayo flopped over onto her back. "Very good match. Thank you."

"You are welcome." Harmony pushed hair off her face. "Any time you want to go full contact just let me know." She stretched her arms over her head. "That pushed me. Also, we have company." 

Kayo twisted her head and grinned. "Hello Fish." Gordon felt guilty ruining the relaxed mood, but…"Hey Shadow. There's a situation." 

Shadow was on her feet, balanced on the balls of her feet. "What? Who?"

"Is Cloudbase in danger, Xanthic?" Harmony was on her feet as well.

Xanthic shook his head. "No, it's family stuff." He held a hand up. "Everyone - is no worse off than they were before. But - uh - words need using."

Kayo studied his face for a long moment, then nodded. “F.A.B. Give me five to shower and change.” 

“Do you need air-support, Xanthic?” Harmony asked carefully. 

“No, we’re good for now, but I’ll call if we do,” Xanthic promised, then turned to lead Shadow on the quickest route back to the VIP rooms. 

T H U N D E R F A L L 

Freshly showered and changed, Kayo was running possible scenarios through her head as she followed Gordon to ‘Officer’s Country’ and into Xanthic’s quarters. The sight of a conked out Scott in the middle of an awake puppy pile surprised her - normally Scott would have been the last to go to sleep - but Gordon explained it with a quiet ‘we got two sleeping pills into him’ - which also delineated how bad this was. Scott did not like chemically assisted sleep - it took him out of action and he’d tear himself up inside if something happened while he couldn’t respond - so the fact that he’d let them do it spoke volumes. 

“So, now that we’re all here, there’s been an update,” Gordon began. “They’ve arrested UnNamed, he’s been processed into the custody unit at Spectrum New York.”

'What?' came out of several mouths with Alan shoving his hands over Scott's ears just in case he wasn’t quite fully asleep yet.

Captain Cobalt requested that I tell him about any reports about Jefferson Tracy. Since Captain Cobalt is unconscious, I elected to tell Captain Xanthic. Cloud's voice was muted as it came out of the intercom speaker. 

"A macska rúgja meg!" There was no doubt who uttered that obscenity. Virgil scrubbed a hand through his hair. "So now what?" "Cloud, who did the arresting?" Gordon pulled a couple more blankets out and passed one to Kayo. Colonel White, Captain Blue, and Captain Scarlet, with the assistance of local Colour Captains and Lieutenants. The arrest warrant was issued by the World President. 

Silence ruled for several moments. "Hoo-Boy, this is going to be something." Gordon dropped down in front of the blanket nest. "Any chance you could slip into Tracy Tower’s CCTV and pull the footage for us?"

"FISH!" Virgil's bellow was in the lower registers and was more felt than heard. I cannot do that without an express order from Colonel White or if there is an immediate threat to life or limb. However, since the arrest appears to have been broadcast, I see no reason why I cannot show you that. 

Kayo wrapped the blanket around herself and sat down next to Alan and Scott. Taking a deep breath, she curled an arm around the youngest Tracy and uttered a soft “Please show us, Cloud.” 

S.I.G. 

The holoprojector on the far side of the room flicked on to show a jerky picture as the camera was jostled by what looked like a fairly frenetic crowd of reporters, all shouting questions at the cluster of blurry human-shaped blobs exiting through a broad set of doors. The figure in the middle of the cluster was moving in and out of focus as he was walked out of Tracy Tower towards the waiting Saloon Cars, but in the moments he was out of photo jammer coverage, Jeff Tracy’s image was clear, his hands cuffed in front of him and a thunderstorm of a scowl twisting his features into an ugly mask.

“Returning to our breaking story, we’re here at Tracy Tower,” a slightly breathless Kat was reporting, straining to be heard over the melee, “as none other than Jeff Tracy has been arrested by Spectrum. His long term friend and crewmate Lee Tayor has already been taken away by the New York Police. We are still awaiting confirmation on the charges Jeff Tracy is facing, but his alleged crimes include suspected human trafficking-” 

Gordon muted it with a gesture, but no one challenged him on it as the picture shifted to a shot over Kat’s shoulder, showing Jeff being put in one of the ‘cars by the red and blue blobs of Blue and Scarlet, the door being shut and the two officers getting into the front seats, ready to pull away. 

Another gesture from Gordon turned the projector off as the view cut to a pair of talking head presenters in a studio. 

Kayo wasn’t surprised by the quiver as she drew in a deep breath. “It’s over…” she whispered, absently stroking Scott’s head. Alan was curled into her side by this point, and she could see his hands were trembling. “It’s… it’s actually over…” 

“Yeah…” Virgil rasped out the word, blinking rapidly. “He’s… there’s no way in hell he’ll come back from this…” 

“He’ll try,” that was John, pragmatic as always, “but he’s not going to win.” The unspoken ‘I’m going to make sure of it’ hung in the air like a guillotine poised to drop, but it was gone with the next sentence. “We’re free…” 

Free. 

‘How can one word feel like a gut punch and a weight off my back at the same time?’ Kayo thought as she bent over to press a gentle kiss to Scott’s temple. She was glad he was drugged into sleep for this. She loved him dearly, but this would have been too much all at once, he needed the chance to breathe, to process and decompress, before surmounting the next mountain that life threw at him. 

T H U N D E R F A L L 

Dinner arrived precisely on schedule, the flap on the door squeaking as it opened and a meal tray was pushed through the slot.

Jeff took the tray that came through the slot and looked at it: roast beef sandwich, a bag of ‘BBQ flavoured’ chips, a small bowl of apple slices, and a bag of orange juice. He sat down on the bed and mulled over his options. The tray was metal, but it would have to go back, so no chance there. The plate and bowl were made of recycled corn stalks, good for the environment and composting, but not so much for grand escapes. The plant-based-plastic bags on the juice and chips were even more useless. He rubbed at his chest. He was slightly nauseated,  but the Oort Cloud had taught him to eat when he could, so he sat on the edge of the bed and set to his sparse meal.

As he nibbled the sandwich he tried to keep himself focused and on the ball, but his thoughts kept scattering like dust motes in a sunbeam. Why hadn’t anyone come to speak with him yet!? He was the richest, most powerful man in the world! People should have been reaching out the second he was put into that car by those thugs! Hell, his lawyers should have been beating the door down by now! He paid them more than enough! 

Jeff chewed the cold beef, ignoring the way his stomach was roiling. What the hell was going on out there and why wasn’t anyone coming for him? 

T H U N D E R F A L L 

His intention to check dressings and drips stymied by the absence of the persons those dressings and drips were attached to, Fawn looked around the empty room with a resigned bemusement. Xanthic and Shadow had warned him that if they didn't know what was going on, Five and Two would break out and true to their word, they had, and without leaving a single trace about how they’d done it. He looked over his shoulder at James. "Did Kirimiko leave any notes before she went off shift?" James looked the tablet over. "Other than they ate dinner and drank the coffees," he looked up, "Two complained about it being decaf and not tasting right." "That man needs an intervention." Fawn shook his head. "Then she changed the drips and left them alone to sleep." 

Fawn rubbed his eyes, it was too dang early (or was it late?) for this. "Cloud, where are our guests?" Which guests, Doctor Fawn?Fawn squinted at the camera in the corner, if anyone else had asked that he would have thought they were being a smart ass, but it was Cloud. He could define smart ass, but not be one. "Thunderbirds Five, Three, and Two?" They are in Captain Xanthic's quarters.

"Are they alone?" No, Captain Cobalt, Captain Xanthic, Thunderbird Shadow, and Thunderbird Three are with them.

"Of course they are. Well, if they’re fit enough to get down there, they’re on the mend at least," Fawn sighed. "I'll go see if I can get our wayward lambs back. James, please double check the 'nurses, see what Five and Two's stats were before they went offline and make sure they match up with the telemetry we’re getting."

"Yes, Doctor Fawn."

Diverting just long enough to pick up his portable kit, Fawn slung it over his back and made his way out of Medical and towards the Officer’s Deck as he reviewed what he would potentially do. 

Practising medicine was one thing, practising medicine with this lot was another thing entirely. When he’d taken the post of CMO he’d very quickly had to rewrite the rules when it came to trying to keep a bunch of half-sane adrenaline junkies with seriously atrophied senses of self-preservation nominally fit and well. Upgrading his ‘ugly scrubs’ for flight risk patients from brown paisley to cartoon characters was only one of the things he’d learned to do. He’d come out of the civilian world, the military/intelligence one had been something of a culture shock. Add in some former-and-current rescue specialists and their special agents (that he wasn’t the CMO of, just their temporary caregiver) carrying some heavy trauma, well, ‘I’ll bend if and when I can, otherwise something’s going to break and I don’t know if I can fix it.’

Stopping in front of Xanthic’s door, he decided to go with a little humour as he pressed the intercom button. “Xanthic, it’s the big bad wolf. You’ve got two of my patients. Wanna let me in?”

“Not by the hairs of my chinny-chin-chin,” came out after a moment.   

“I don’t wanna huff and puff, but you know how much Engineering likes breaking doors down.”

“Fiiiiiiine.”   

The door slid open and Fawn stepped inside. It was dim, so it took him a minute to realise there was a pile of people on the floor. 

“Cobalt’s asleep,” Xanthic murmured as he waved Fawn to the couch where his two escapees were perched. “Last few hours have been rough on him, Doc.” 

“Do I need to get Juniper or Orchid?” Fawn quietly asked as he set down his kit and took out his tablet. That both the Thunderbirds had portable monitors on their shirts was a good sign and he tapped his tablet to get the latest information. 

Honey-gold eyes slid towards one of the three figures on the floor, then back to him. “Not yet. We’re monitoring things and we’ll call if they’re needed,” was the guarded answer. 

Fawn nodded as he scrutinised the data scrolling over his tablet, then turned to the Thunderbirds. “Eating and drinking?” 

“Yes and yes,” Two answered for them both. “And I’ve been good and stayed away from caffeine.” 

Fawn crouched on his haunches as he considered the situation. He hadn’t been paying much attention to things outside the base, other than the Cliffs Notes he was picking up from passing conversations and the status update bulletins he was getting as a senior officer, but he could see the toll everything was taking on Cobalt and Xanthic - and the rest of their family as well. 

‘People are more than their diagnosis,’ he reminded himself, knowing he could get laser focused on test results and physical trauma if he wasn’t careful, ‘and there’s a lot in play here.’  

A look over the sleeping figures, especially Three’s, and seeing the lines of stress smoothed out of a face too young to be bearing these kinds of burdens cemented his decision. They were managing, which was his biggest concern, so far they’d been not-idiots about things, and right now they had Cobalt with them, who was very proactive about yanking in help when his family needed it. Unlike earlier, when Cobalt was unavailable, he felt a lot safer about letting the six of them manage themselves. ‘He’ll be a bigger mother hen over them than I will,’ Fawn mused. ‘I can trust him to look after them, and they’ll look after him.’ 

“I’m willing to offer you two parole,” Fawn announced, “with conditions. First, you keep up with the meal replacement shakes in addition to your meals, I can have them dropped off here. Second, you both come in for bloods and dressing changes after breakfast and dinner. Two, no caffeine until your adenosine stabilises. Third, these,” he indicated the monitors, “stay on and I get the data in real time until you’re more stable and there’s no risk of infections for either of you; I’ve seen those pressure sores Two, and you got here caked in mud and who knows what else. Deal?”  

“Why the change in attitude?” Five’s eyes were narrowed in suspicion.

Fawn jerked a thumb in Cobalt's direction. “I’m picking my battles, he's available, and you two don't look like you could be knocked over by a feather anymore. A pillow, yes, but not a feather.” 

That got a vaguely offended look out of both Thunderbirds, a silent glance of communication, then a nod out of Five. “Deal.” 

“Good.” A creak of treacherous knees and Fawn was moving over to the deeply asleep Cobalt, Shadow and Three. He pulled the medical scanner out of his pocket, showed it to Xanthic and let his eyebrows ask the question. Xanthic gave his nod, Fawn ran the scanner over the trio and turned it over to scrutinise the results. “Nothing critical, but they’re all going to need decent meals when they wake up. I’ll have some extra shakes sent along in case eating is too hard right now.” 

“Thanks Doc, we all appreciate that.” Xanthic’s features had softened slightly with the compassion they were being shown. 

“Good. Don’t forget about yourself,” Fawn reminded him as he got up and went to the door. “You don’t need any idiot points.” 

“Yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir,” Xanthic grinned, throwing him a sloppy salute as he let Fawn out. 

T H U N D E R F A L L 

Darkness slammed down on Jeff without warning and he lurched to his feet. Then his brain kicked in and he realised that it must be 10 pm. He tried to swallow down his racing heart. Blackouts meant no air, and no air meant he was going to die. 

"Get ahold of yourself, Tracy!" Jeff snarled. He wasn't in the Oort Cloud, he was on Earth. Admittedly in a jail cell, but still on Earth and he had plenty of air. Or rather he would if he could just breathe! He jerked his suit jacket off and tossed in the general direction of the bed, he was sweating from the adrenaline reaction.

He stood there, not willing to pace like he wanted to until his eyes had adapted to the thin light leaking in around the door. Morning could not come soon enough. 

T H U N D E R F A L L 

At the hangar that Spectrum maintained at the US Marine Corps Reserve Center in Brooklyn, Colonel White leaned against the SCC that had brought them here and checked his tablet for anything urgent while Scarlet and Blue finished their walk around of the SPJ and had a ‘best of three’ round of Rock, Paper, Scissors to decide who’d be piloting for the flight home. 

It was a brief moment of silliness that brought the ghost of a smile to his face, something much needed after today and to bolster him for what was coming.  

A message popped up on his tablet from Copper: he, Flint and Pearl had already uncovered a hidden compartment of paper notebooks. The use of analog data storage made sense, paper couldn’t be hacked and knowing the capabilities of Thunderbird Five, White knew that Jeff would have been reluctant to keep anything where that particular Tracy could get at it. Scans would be forthcoming, Copper’s message promised, but there was a lot to go through. 

Charles flicked off a quick ‘Good work’ in response, then checked on his officers. Scarlet had done his usual of playing scissors first and was beaten by Blue’s rock, predictably he’d then played paper and was beaten by Blue’s scissors. His win established and the third round irrelevant, Blue was now taking their bags up to stash them in the ‘jet and adjust the pilot’s seat to the way he liked it.

“Sir.” That was Scarlet, coming to collect him. “We’re ready to go.” 

“Very good, Captain,” White tucked his tablet under his arm and pushed off the ‘car. He was looking forward to getting back to the safe haven of Cloudbase, they had a lot of work ahead of them. 

T H U N D E R F A L L 

Sally had insisted that he be transferred to a local hospital when Jeff had first told her that Scott would have to stay in hospital for several weeks just to be on the safe side. She’d been horrified that Jeff would consider burying Lucy without Scott in attendance, but he had reasoned with her that they would all benefit from putting events behind them and that the funeral home couldn’t hold the bodies forever.

Senna had offered her services but Jeff had politely thanked her, paid her until the end of April and dismissed her. She’d taken what had happened very hard, had admired Lucy so very much, but really Senna understood where he was coming from, even if she’d miss the family terribly.

So the small family of six followed the carriage through the streets and then the coffins into the church. All were dressed in black suits brought especially for the occasion.

The gathered townsfolk, too upset at what had happened to be annoyed that they’d been pushed out of the church in favour of Jeff Tracy’s more prominent friends, quietly whispered at just how well behaved all the children were, how sad that the baby would grow up without any knowledge of his mother…

Other comments were said about the missing child, but only by those who were sure they would not be overheard.

Everyone agreed that it was one of the most moving services they had ever attended.

~

Sally hadn’t gone home at all since the doomed holiday and she had no intention of abandoning her grandsons now, but the farm also needed managing. The wheat was only a couple of months off being harvested and as one of the biggest farms in the district she had staff to take care of.

So with some reluctance once the funeral was over Sally took a week out to organise everything. She debated taking all the boys with her, but in the end decided to take only Alan, the baby needing more hands-on time than her other boys.

She’d insisted that Jeff take some time off his company to care for the other boys and he’d reluctantly agreed. Sally had (slightly tartly) suggested that he should have delayed sacking Senna until after the boys had returned to school, but Jeff – never one to admit he might not have thought this through as well as he’d meant to – remained adamant that he could cope with three children without her for a couple of weeks.

Before she left Sally ensured that there was enough food to feed twice that number, ready-to-cook meals provided by many of their neighbours and friends. But her heart sank as she left them with their father. Despite everything Jeff promised Sally knew that if she didn’t stay on top of him he could easily slide back into neglecting them as he did Scott.

Scott. Scott was uppermost in her mind.

She visited every day, even when she returned to the farm, and had taken John most often to see him when she’d been with Jeff, the hospital refusing to allow the younger children to visit. She’d only been able to take Alan because he was dependent on her.

Being back in Kansas was helping but it was John and Alan who was able to get through to their eldest brother. He’d been too ill for several days after the accident to really take in what had happened, but once the doctors had been happy that he was strong enough to be flown home Sally and John had sat with him and held him as he was told.

The black depression that had settled on Scott once he’d been installed into the hospital worried Sally deeply but seeing the effect John and Alan had on him gave her hope that once he was cleared to come home his brothers would see to it that Scott would have something to live for.

It took the whole two weeks for Sally to organise the running of the farm how Grant would have wanted. Thankfully her husband had always been a considerate and forward-thinking man and had left a workable plan for if the worse should happen. Sally knew she could sell the farm if she wanted to, that Grant wouldn’t have minded, but she’d had so many happy times here that she couldn’t bring herself to sell it. Fred Daniel, Grant’s right-hand man, had accepted the offer to move into the farm and become manager and with one last look behind Sally said goodbye to the Tracy Farm.

Two weeks after Sally moved in permanently Scott came home. Tests after tests after tests had comforted her that Scott would suffer no lasting effects from the accident. Physically at least. Sally wasn’t so sure about the mental and emotional effects…

But Scott surprised everyone.

From the moment he walked back into the house it was as if Scott was the same boy he’d been a month ago. He immediately began looking after his brothers like a pro. John perked up with Scott home. Virgil began to come out of the shellshock he’d been in since the avalanche. Gordon began to smile again.

Alan continued to thrive with the attention of everyone.

With Scott back Jeff began to spend more and more time at his office and his business. And he tapped into contacts he’d made both before the funeral and during it. Contracts began to flow, aeroplanes – both whole and parts of – began to be commissioned in earnest and Tracy Aerospace as was began to take off internationally as Tracy Industries as Jeff expanded into fuels and commercial crafts rather than the military contracts he’d concentrated on up to now.

In the midst of all this Scott began to look seriously at college courses. He’d expected that…that his Mom had ensured that there had been a college fund but nothing had been said. He knew that the will had been read before he’d been released from hospital but Jeff had ignored all the dropped hints.

So one night just before the end of the school year Scott took courage from a hug from John and a deep, deep breath, and knocked on his Dad’s study.

And waited. And waited.

He resisted the urge to knock again, knowing that that would just rile his father further and Scott really, really needed his Father to be amenable today….

He waited.

‘Come.’

And Scott entered.

The desk in Jeff’s study was huge. It was the finest imported rosewood, with a blood-red calf-leather insert. There were three drawers on each side and one in the middle, and there was gold inlaid on both the leather and outlining the edges of the desk itself.

It was larger than his parent’s double bed, and always made Scott feel small. It made him feel even smaller now.

Especially as he was made to wait.

Finally Jeff looked up, raised an eyebrow and put his stylus down.

‘Scott. What can I do for you?’ ‘Dad, it’s nearly the end of the school year. My teachers have been asking me if I’m going to college next year. I…’ ‘Next year? When you’re fifteen?’ ‘Well…yes.’ ‘Do they think you’re clever enough to attend?’ ‘Dad, I’ve been doing Yale University courses for the last year, as has John. Both of us have been approached about going next year, me to Yale and John to Harvard. I – I thought you knew…’ ‘I knew about John. I didn’t even know you wanted to go to college. You never spoke to me about it.’ ‘Mom…Mom knew.’ ‘Well I wish she’d said something before…it’s out of the question right now, Scott.’ ‘Wha – what do you mean?’ ‘There’s no money for you to go to college yet, every spare coin I have has already been earmarked for expanding the business, and I can’t just magic that kind of money. I’m sorry Scott but the answer is no, not this year and it’s unlikely to be next year.’

Scott stood frozen for a moment. He was sure his heartbeat was loud enough to be heard from the roof where he knew John was waiting.

‘What if…what if I can pay my own way?’

Jeff scoffed. And then froze. And then pinched his nose.

‘Not this year, Scott. But if you can get the money together to pay for yourself next year I will not stand in your way. However, you will need to make sure that your brothers are cared for. Particularly Alan. I’m relying on you to care for him now, especially now your Mom has gone.’

And Jeff picked up his stylus and carried on working, not even looking up when Scott left. Not until the door closed quietly did Jeff stop what he was doing, deleting what he’d written and sitting back.

He cursed quietly and unlocked the left-hand drawer, pulling out an official-looking envelope. Inside was Lucy’s will, containing a clause putting Gran Roca in an iron-clad trust for Scott.

Miles had tried everything legal (and, knowing the man as well as Jeff did, probably some illegal routes too) to break the trust, but all to no avail, and he had all but suggested Jeff burn it, but there was something satisfying about having it here and still having control over that bastard. The trust fund wouldn’t become Scott’s until he was 21, so Jeff had some years to play with.

It helped that no one else knew the fund or the will existed. Jeff had made sure he was the only one present when the will had been read. It had been easy to ensure, with Scott the only recipient and still in hospital. Jeff had been surprised that Lucy hadn’t looked after all her children, he supposed that she’d relied on him for that, but Lucy had been right to look after Scott.

It wasn’t like Jeff was prepared to humour the bastard.

He spun the envelope around in his hands before coming to a decision and, opening the drawer more fully, Jeff activated the secret panel and hid the envelope in there. Out of sight but certainly not out of mind, not until he could get his hands on the Ranch at any rate.

Smiling now, Jeff returned to the contract in hand, crossed several paragraphs through that favoured the current owners instead of himself, and rewarded himself with a shot of Macallan 50.

All thoughts of the Scott problem had already been pushed to the back of his mind as unimportant and irrelevant.

John waited a couple of hours for Scott to join him on the roof but his brother never materialised. He assumed that the discussion with their Father had not gone well, but he had hoped Scott would come and talk to him. Still, if Scott didn’t want to talk about it then he wouldn’t. So John stayed looking at the stars until he couldn’t stay awake anymore and made his way to the kitchen to grab a glass of water before bed.

He found Scott at the kitchen table, asleep and surrounded by leaflets. Scott woke as John sat down, and came awake as John taught him.

That night was long, but by the time dawn broke over the farm Scott had already improved his initial investment enough to already be able to afford Yale and a house. And John had set up an ironclad alter-ego that suited his big brother down to the ground.

One that he knew their father would never be able to trace.

Scott never spoke to his father again about college but John did.

That very next morning Jeff called John in to finish signing the paperwork that would see John become the youngest ever students of Harvard University. He was in high spirits. That new contract would be signed today and propel Jeff Tracy into the multi-millionaire league.

‘Morning, Son.’ ‘Dad. What’s up?’ ‘I thought it would be a good time to finish the paperwork to send you to Harvard. How does it feel to be the youngest ever student?’ ‘No.’ ‘I beg your pardon?’ ‘No, Dad. I don’t want to go next year.’ ‘You don’t. Does this have anything to do with Scott?’ ‘No, Sir. I’ve been researching into the other youngest students and they all suffered as they struggled to adapt. I – I know I can do it but I want to give myself more of an opportunity to not struggle unnecessarily. You know I’m not good with people, Dad. I think I will benefit from a delayed start. Next year. I’ll still be the youngest student, but I’ll be much better prepared. Sir.’

Jeff sat back and contemplated his son. He knew that Scott was the real reason but he also couldn’t fault John’s reasoning. His brightest son found it notoriously difficult with people he didn’t know, and his request was not unreasonable.

‘I will agree only on the understanding that you will still attend your extra classes and I want a proposal on my desk by the weekend as to what you’re going to do to counteract this issue you’ve raised.’ ‘Yes, Sir.’ ‘Good.’

True to his word at the end of the week John delivered a 5,000-word masterpiece on how he was going to cope with being at Harvard. Jeff was impressed, his solutions were innovative and, as befit a Tracy, John was facing his problems head on and not hiding from them.

That was Friday. Saturdays were movie day.

John and Virgil prepped the popcorn and the room while Gordon picked the movie – Finding Nemo had been permanently deleted from the list of films to choose, and at some point soon so would The Little Mermaid – and Scott had Alan. Jeff, as usual, was nowhere to be found, although his car was in the driveway still so they assumed he was in his office.

Cars was Gordon’s next favourite, and truth be told they all enjoyed that particular one, but to everyone’s surprise the six-year-old had opted for one of Scott’s favourite movies and their eldest brother arrived in the room with Alan curled into his chest to the strains of the Top Gun overture.

Carefully settling down so he didn’t wake his baby brother, Scott grinned as Gordon goofed around the room, gyrating his hips ridiculously to the music. Virgil joined in when he and John arrived, and John took his place at Scott’s right as always.

As the movie started proper Virgil settled on Scott’s left and Gordon at Scott’s feet, and despite the clowning around earlier they watched the movie through without comments.

They did pause twice for toilet breaks and more popcorn. Once Virgil and Gordon had left for the bathroom John leaned against Scott and in turn Scott put his arm around his shoulders.

‘Ok?’ ‘Yeah, Scott. I’m good.’ ‘Did Dad agree?’ ‘He did.’ ‘Wow. I’m surprised.’ ‘I put forward a really good case.’ ‘So we have a year?’ ‘We have a year. Scott…I know you haven’t thought of this, but I think we should talk to Grandma. If we’re leaving Alan at only eighteen months we’re going to need her onboard.’ ‘Yeah, yeah you’re right.’

Scott absentmindedly kissed Alan’s forehead. The baby squirmed a little but stayed asleep, and Scott’s arm tightened around him, and John had a startling realisation.

Maybe Scott didn’t want to go to college next year…

‘Scott?’ ‘Yeah, John?’ ‘Do – do you want to leave it another year before we go?’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You and I can leave next year, but Alan will only be seventeen months. I know that Virgil can take care of him and Gordon but…’ ‘Yeah…it’s a big but…’ ‘You can’t put your life on hold for us, Scott. Not even for Alan. It’s not fair…’

Scott snorted, startling Alan and his brother screwed up his face but before he could do more than let out a quiet wail Scott was gently jigging him and the wail turned into a gurgle and then a giggle.

Alan reached up and clumsily grabbed at Scott’s nose, and with a grin Scott leant down to make it easier for him, until he was rubbing his nose over Alan’s and the tot wasn’t the only one laughing in delight as Gordon and Virgil returned.

The movie was restarted as everyone retook their places, and Scott leaned a little towards John.

‘Life may not be fair, but I have you all. And Alan has us. An additional year would be good. I’ll be sixteen, you’ll be eleven. Virgil will be ten, Gordon eight. Alan will be two and a half. Grandma will be here and you and I will visit as often as college allows. What do you think, John?’ ‘I think we are lucky to have you. Two years to college then. I can live with that.’ ‘Can your big brain manage waiting another year?’

John softly laughed. Scott grinned.

‘Yeah. I’ll manage. Will you?’ ‘What more could I need?’

It was always flashing on about one thing or another. Dropping blood sugar levels, mild dehydration, muscle strains. Rescue work was hard, If the boy couldn't cope with a bit of tiredness then maybe he wasn't cut out for this organisation. They had all gotten soft under Scott's watch. The alert pinged up again, this time with a shade more orange in the mix. It was swept away again, with a growl. He was annoyed that the Housekeeper programme was seemingly set up to tell him about every hangnail his operatives got. Another prime example of Scott's mismanagement. 

Before the system  could manufacture another biometric alert, Jeff pulled up a command panel on the holo interface and did the coding equivalent of popping the hood to get a look at the engine. Shoving aside strings of code he slapped a crude sticking plaster over the med-scan alerts before flicking the window aside. 

That should silence it and let him focus on more important matters.

Far up above Tracy island, in the sealed safety of Thunderbird fives Comms sphere John was trying to work out what had set eos into such an ungodly rage. He didn't think he had done anything to warrant this level of anger recently, but one could never be sure.

“And the absolute barbarian just mutilated a perfectly elegant line of code. Have you seen what He did?!” Lines of code scrolled past at a speed that made John's eyes ache. He had to look away, rubbing a hand over his eyes momentarily. 

“I'm sorry, who did what Eos?” He was feeling a little groggy, the cat naps were out of sync and worry had been making his ration packs taste like ash, it was starting to chip away at his edges.

“HE did, HE put this ugly patch in my system.”

The scrolling slowed and now John could spot the offending article.

“What system is this?” John squinted at the line, unable to confidently identify it in isolation. It was blocking notifications, but of what?

“It's the bio readings alerts from Virgil's suit.” She replied primly.

“He's silenced the medical warnings!?” his mouth open in shock.

“Yes, and in such an ugly way.” eos continued.

John let his head drop into his hands, running his fingers through his slightly too long, slightly too greasy hair. His space station might be advanced but keeping clean in space became more of a battle the longer you were up there and that was before you factored in rationing to limit the amount of supply runs needed.

“I'm less concerned with the elegance of his code,” he tried to get a hold on the rising emotions before they became misdirected, but the tethers felt frayed like old rope. “What about Virgil?” he ground out as levelly as he could manage.

“But John, it's not as if we were relying on HIM to watch over Virgil's welfare. I have of course already rerouted all medical alerts to myself and Mrs Travy via some rather elegant code that the blundering oaf will never find. I just find it incredibly rude that he has put that crude mess within my systems. What if someone saw it and thought it was mine!”

A laugh bubbled up in John's throat, breaking the tension. 

“You're right, it shouldn't come as a surprise to me that Sir is unconcerned about Virgil's wellbeing, that much has been obvious for long enough already. Thank you for rerouting the commands and looking out for all of us. I'm afraid you will have to keep the patch though, since he thinks you're just a scheduling system, you can't be seen to be self fixing.”

“I know John” said eos with the closest thing to an audible pout. “But I just needed to tell someone.”

“I know, and for what it's worth, I agree, it's very ugly. And nobody who knew you would think for a second that it was yours.”

“Thank you John.” her colours softened and John felt the lack of a hug like a physical thing, deep between his ribs. 

Back down on Tracy Island Virgil has ditched his uniform, with it's snitching sensors, and was asleep before his head hit the pillow, letting sleep repair some of the day's wear.

The autonurse warbled a warning as his patient's heart rate increased, and Fawn checked the wrist he'd just finished wrapping. "Five?" Pulse and respiration were both spiking and he had no idea why. "Five?" He asked again.

Turquoise eyes snapped into being. "Cloud!" Five called, totally ignoring Fawn.

Yes, Five? "I can't reach EOS. Can you?"

Fawn blinked, he had no idea who Eos was or how… wait a minute, the implants!

I - I cannot, Five.

Five swore in several languages for a moment. "Can you let me in? We might be able to contact her together." There was a very long pause of several seconds from the AI. If Colonel White gives permission, yes. I will ask him. "What the bloody hell are you two talking about?" Fawn demanded.

The laser sharp blue gaze flicked to Fawn, assessed him for a moment, and narrowed. "EOS is my partner, she was hiding Five Actual, and I can't raise her." "So the implants are a communication setup?" Fawn was both horrified and intrigued.

"Only as a tertiary benefit."

The Colonel has agreed, provided there is no 'snooping'.

"You know I won't, Cloud." Confirmed, but that is the Colonel's condition.

"Then tell him I agree." Five settled back. "Don't interfere,” was directed at Fawn, “I've never tried this with anyone but EOS." He closed his eyes and stilled. The autonurse shrilled as Five's heart rate and breathing all plunged: heart rate into the 30s and his breathing slowed to 8 per minute.

Kirimiko silenced the alarms and looked at Fawn, startled. "I've never seen anyone drop into a meditative state that fast before."

"I haven't either." Fawn looked up at the ceiling, his eyebrows pulled together in thought. He could ask Cloud what was going on, but if the AI was helping with whatever this was, he didn't want to distract him. He gave himself a small shake. "We monitor for now. Unless he starts to crash or the base does, we leave them alone."

“S.I.G.”

0-0-0

‘Fear is the mind killer, I will face my fear.’

Linking with EOS was as second nature as breathing, how she saw reality was a wonderland that John could easily get lost in; colours had tastes, words had texture, emotions were like smelling spices.

Finding and linking with Cloud required much more effort. He was Spectrum and his defences were formidable, not that John wanted to try to force his way past them, but making a 'door' for John to enter through was taking time. It was nearly two minutes before John felt a shift in the proverbial wall before him and he synced with Cloud. Linking with Cloud was just as much of a wonderland, but in a completely different way: it was like being inside a crystal, all planes and angles, with images and reflections going on forever. But it was also bright, comfortable and safe. The last time John had felt this safe was all those months back, in the New Haven puppy pile. 

(Cloud?) [Hello, Five. Can you show me where EOS should be?]

(I can.) John looked for the 'image' that read as 'Cloud', found it and sent their plan to him. It was remarkably like being with EOS, but it didn't have the feeling of oneness he got with her. Cloud was someone he was talking to, not someone he was sharing his mind with.  

It felt like several centuries passed before Cloud spoke again. [I have found her, but I cannot reach her. If I show you, can you link to her?]

(I should be able to.) John steadied himself before reaching out to touch the image in front of him. But he paused. (Is there room in your servers for her?)

[Yes. We planned for this contingency. She did not share that with you?]

John's chuckle was rueful. (No, she didn't. But she doesn't tell me everything.) [That seems - inefficient.]

(Oh, it probably is, but it's how we work.) John reached into the image and found himself flung to something that seemed like the space between galaxies, empty and dark. (EOS?)

There was a very small shimmer. ((john!))

John 'stretched' to reach her, to be the bridge between Five Actual and Cloudbase, but was stopped by something. (Cloud? What's blocking us?)) [I am unsure. But the magnetic resonance seems - off.]

John twisted his lips. (I was worried about that.) He thought back to the fantasy stories he'd enjoyed as a child, books where science didn't matter. (Do you think we could make a 'crack' in the magnetic field? One big enough for her to slip through?)

Cloud was quiet while he ran the calculations and tested them against his communications array. [It is possible, but I am unsure of the outcome.]

Which was a huge red flag, but John was a Tracy and a Thunderbird, the impossible was always optional. (Then we try anyway. If it doesn't work, we can fall back and regroup for another attempt.)

[Understood.]

John took a deep breath out of habit, he didn't need to breathe here. (Right, I'll be the point of the lance, you be the force behind me. A precision strike should give us the opening we need.) He sent that to EOS and hoped it’d get through to her.

[Understood. Are you ready?] (Yes, let's do this.) John pictured a spear made of math and starlight and pointed it at the tiny speck. (Now!)

The world bent around them as John made an ally out of physics and used the laws of nature and science to find the loopholes and expand that fuzzy area between what was possible and impossible. The barrier between them stretched as the lance head pressed against it, but it held firm for seconds that stretched out into eternities until, finally, it broke and there was a sudden rush as EOS surged through the gap and used the lance like a compass needle to find her way back to him.

John caught her and passed her to Cloud as fast as he could. His brain and nervous system was not meant to hold exabytes of code for very long. Cloud gathered him up as well, and John sat up gasping in Spectrum’s medical bay.

Fawn and the nurse were gaping at him. “Holy Hell man, what did you do?”

John sucked down air as fast as his lungs would let him. “W-what I h-had to.” He collapsed back on the bed, even at his lowest point before, he hadn’t been this tired.

“I’m not even going to wait for your bloods. Kirimiko, rehydration and nutrient IVs, one in each arm.” Fawn pinned John in place with a sharp gaze. “Argue about this with me, and I will sedate you.”

John was too tired to do more than just nod. (EOS?)

((I’m here, John.))

Warmth surrounded him and he relaxed further into the bed, but that made him notice how his entire body ached. Much more than his rough landing. (I think I’m going to pass out now. Behave and be nice) ((I will, John.)) The warmth returned but with the sharp smell of black pepper - chargin. ((You were right.)) (The human is good, the human is wise, trust the human.) ((Yes, John.)) Pausing in scribbling out his notes, Fawn was bewildered by the small smile on Five’s face as his eyelids fluttered shut and he fell asleep.

T H U N D E R F A L L 

In the back of the Spectrum helicopter, Virgil was laid out on the stretcher, well buckled in with a thick blanket covering him from the neck down aside from the arm left poking out for the IV that Cobalt was putting into the crook of his elbow. Scarlet was setting up the bag of 10% glucose, Magenta was with them too and also in a jump seat, having changed helicopters to make room for MAX, and Dosela was squeezed in beside Magenta.

They’d all recognised the signs of Scott needing to take care of his brother and without a word they’d either gotten out of the way or made themselves useful.

When the bag was hung on a hook by Virgil’s head and the running line was clear of bubbles, Scarlet got himself into a nearby jump seat too so Cobalt had as big a work area as possible so he could tend to his brother.

“Hey, Scott, I’ll be okay,” Virgil tried to tell Cobalt, only to get pinned by the raised eyebrow that all the captains had picked up from Colonel White, the one that so elegantly uttered a dry ‘oh really now?’ without even saying a word. Virgil frowned in response. “I said I’ll be okay, not that I am okay, I’m not trying to do a you this time, honest.”

That got a crack in Cobalt’s mask, a blink and you miss it one, but a crack all the same. He finished connecting the running line to the IV port, then placed his hand in Virgil’s and gave it a little squeeze before sitting cross-legged on the floor beside the stretcher, still holding Vigil’s hand and giving no indication that he had any intention of letting go.

It was very much against regulations, but no one had the heart to tell Scott to leave his brother’s side to go buckle in.

Then all of the captains’ epaulettes flickered with the warning of an incoming message. They listened, grim faced, then Scarlet swore a heartfelt ‘bloody hell’, immediately leaning over to Cobalt and putting a hand on his shoulder.

“What is it?” Virgil demanded, his eyes going between the men. 

“Beacon activation, at the Manor,” Scarlet told him and Dosela. “Alan, Miss Kayo and Lady Penelope’s beacons have all gone off.”

“We can’t get there in time,” Magenta grimaced, “the choppers don’t have the range or the speed, but local officers are responding now.”

Cobalt took in a slow, shuddering breath, and let it out just as slowly. “One thing at a time. But it’s Penny, Kayo, and Parker, they are more than capable.” Magenta had a humourless grin. “Don’t forget the Madman.”

“Trust me, I’m very aware that Alan is there.” Cobalt’s voice was flat.

Vigil tugged on the hand holding his. “Hey. It’s the Squirt. He’s got the Tracy luck by the bucketful. The asteroid mission? The orbital mine? Halley’s Comet? We’re the ones that got the grey hairs, not him.”

Cobalt nodded. “What about Five?” He looked to his brothers in arms.

“Last we heard from Cloudbase was that he was coming in literally hot. Green said that he had to take the jump early,” Blue answered.

“Early?” Dosela glanced at the others. “How early? The last he told us it was going to be from the Stratosphere.” Scarlet figuratively stepped up, in actuality he stayed buckled in. “I decided to keep that from you Cobalt. You didn’t need the extra stress.” The glare sent Scarlet’s way promised lots of pain in Scarlet’s future. A very tiny smile played on the corners of Scarlet’s mouth, one that said ‘bring it’. “Report said the Mesosphere, and he was hot enough to make steam on the flight deck. Medical said minor injuries only.”

Cobalt nodded. “Will someone relay that to Xanthic?”

Magenta nodded and turned to speak quietly into his mike. “This might help you both as well,” Scarlet offered, “Destiny, Rhapsody, and Symphony are also inbound to the Manor.”

That did get a little of the tension out of Cobalt’s neck and shoulders, and by extension out of Virgil’s face too as he responded to the shift in his brother’s emotions. “Good.” Cobalt gave the needed context to Virgil and Dosela with a wry smile and a quick “They’re scary.” He turned back to Scarlet. “Did Green say who was responding to the Manor? I, uh, blanked a little.”

That was totally understandable.

“Gold,” Scarlet supplied. “ETA of twenty.”

A dangerous expression briefly crossed Cobalt’s face. “We trained with her. If there’s anyone left after the others get through with them they’re not going to be a problem for long.”

“One hour twenty-three to Cloudbase,” Blue called back from the cockpit, “They’re coming to meet us part way. Green’s promised updates as soon as he has them.”

“S.I.G.” Cobalt nodded, both of his hands holding Virgil’s now as he absently started to rub little circles on the back of Virgil’s hand with his thumbs, an action designed to soothe himself as much as it soothed Virgil. The grim fact of the matter was that all they could do right now was wait. Wait, hope, and trust in their friends.

The flight to Tracy Island was blessedly uneventful, and the family were mostly silent as they contemplated how much their lives had just changed in less than a week. The SPJ was brought in to gently land on Two’s runway and International Rescue were exceedingly grateful that when everything was offloaded and stacked under a palm tree, Scarlet announced “we’ll help get this inside, then Blue and I are going to Auckland to take care of some things. We’ll be back in four days with your exit paperwork and to start collecting anything you’ve found.” 

“Thank you, Paul.” Scott hoisted the first of the bags into his arms and turned towards the massive rock wall that hid Two’s hangar. “C’mon, we’ll give you guys the nickel tour when you come back, but the civvie hangar is this way, it connects up to Two’s and that hangar’s got the cargo lift. Easiest way into the house from here.” 

“S.I.G.” Blue nodded, striding forward and seizing a box that Virgil was reaching for. “Nuh uh, you’ve got all that to deal with,” he said, nodding towards the corner of the Villa that could just be seen peeking over the rugged landscape. “Let us help with this.” 

“...yeah, okay.” Though his first instinct was to get stuck in and start hauling, Virgil capitulated without argument. He hated to admit it, but even though he felt so much better for having had an enforced rest, he needed to ration himself. They had a great deal of work ahead of them.

“Oh, don’t you worry,” Alan grinned sharply as he came up to corner his older brother, “I’m gonna make sure he sits this out.” A turn of his head and a loud “that means you too!” was aimed at John, mid-reach for a bag and just as reluctant to let others shoulder the burden in front of him, but the youngest Tracy was not one to be deterred.

While Alan made sure John and Virgil rested as much as possible, the others moved everything into Two’s hangar and in short order they had the large freight elevator loaded with Gordon and Scott’s belongings. 

That task completed, while Adam warmed up the SPJ for the next leg of their journey, Paul went looking for Scott - he needed to sort out some final details. Ducking back into the cool dark of Two’s hangar, Paul came around the corner of a massive storage module and froze in its shadow. 

Near the wall of the hangar stood Scott and Kayo in an embrace. She brought her hand up to cup his face but he captured it and placed a kiss on her palm with an expression of such rapturous joy, that Paul would have been less embarrassed if he’d found them naked. He was never so glad of his stealth skills as he slipped back into the lee of the module. He leaned back against the metal, pleased beyond words that he hadn’t disturbed a very private moment between the couple.

Wait, couple? He thought back to every interaction he’d witnessed between Scott and Kayo. Scott kissing Kayo’s hair in the kitchen. How more times than not they ended up sitting together, or had just a bit more contact than was strictly necessary. How Scott teased and flirted with the Angels but how it never went beyond the lightest of those. Kayo’s reactions to anything that could or did injure Scott. He also remembered Gordon saying, ‘He’s only got eyes for one woman and Symphony’s not her.’

Paul mentally kicked himself, the clues had all been there but he hadn’t put them together. They were very good at hiding in plain sight. Paul’s heart also ached a little for them. How many years had they needed to keep to the shadows? How much time had they been denied because of Jeff Tracy and his selfish, self-centered evil? If the man wasn’t already dead, and in one of the most ignoble ways possible, this might have been the last straw to shatter the chains Paul kept on himself to be a good person.

He crouched down to peer around the module’s edge. The couple was still in an embrace, eyes closed as they just got to be in each other’s arms. Paul slipped back, he and Dianne had probably worn that same look a few times. They did make a wonderful couple, just on the visual aspect alone. They fitted together like stones of the Great Pyramid; with great precision and nearly seamlessly. As Thunderbirds One and Shadow, they’d saved countless people and even the world several times. 

‘I’ll leave them to it,’ he decided, and slipped away as quietly as he’d arrived. His question could wait and they could sort out the rest later. This moment was much, much more important.

T H U N D E R F A L L 

Not long after, the SPJ was a diminishing speck amidst the fragments of clouds and the eight of them were gathered in Two’s hangar. 

A pause to gather strength, to take that deep breath before the proverbial plunge, and Scott set his shoulders. “Let’s do this.” 

With Scott in the lead and Gordon bringing up the tail, they ascended through the levels of the house. 

They filed through the back area of the hangar and the workshops, past half-finished projects waiting patiently on benches and tables for the return of the person responsible for them. Up the internal stairs that opened into the lowest level of the Villa and into the kitchen, where flies buzzed over cups left abandoned in the sink and someone’s half-eaten breakfast. A final climb up the last set of stairs and they were into the lounge, where they gathered in a loose huddle, silent as they surveyed the sun-drenched room that so much of their lives had revolved around.

Alan was the one to break the silence.

“Huh… it’s like I never left,” he commented, “aside from, well, y’know, that.” He waved towards the wall of agent portraits. 

The statement was made casually, but something about it made everyone suddenly stop and look at their surroundings with new eyes. 

Ever since the Zero-X mission the main areas of the villa had remained frozen in time, a tableau preserved in a waxen, museum-like state. This was the way that he had liked things, and because this was the way that he had liked it, it was the way it was going to stay. When they’d found the message in the Calypso data it’d reinforced their decision as the correct one to make, and everything was kept as it was in anticipation of him coming back to reclaim his rightful place in their lives.

But now…now he wasn’t going to come back. Ever.

Scott was the first one to move. 

Striding around the conversation pit and over to the desk, he picked up one of the books stacked on the corner: an original, signed copy of ‘The Art of the Deal’, left where that man had put it down. Looking thoughtful, he weighed it in his hand, then turned to the group.

“I’ve always hated this book, but before… all I could do was put it away.” Scott looked down at the book, then up at his family, and this time his expression was one of resolve. “Now… now I can get rid of it.”   

The announcement… the revelation…  it had them look at each other, then at the room around them, tallying up all of the items that they only had because he had wanted them there - books, decorations, furniture - the stamp marks of his personality, his ownership of their shared space.

Things could change now.

Things would change.

From this moment on things were going to be different.

“Y’know what would be nice tonight?” Gordon asked the group. “A bonfire at the beach.” 

“Fire is a cleanser,” was Kayo’s comment as she lithely turned. “I’ll find some boxes.” 

“I’ll start weeding the bookcases,” Alan volunteered. 

Brains marched up to the desk with a certain determination in his eye, MAX trundling up behind him. “M-MAX, m-my tools, please.” 

“What about the bedroom and office?” John asked. “And there’s Lee’s things to deal with too.”

“I’ll handle the bedroom and office, that’s the priority task,” Scott decided as he picked up the other books and put them on the floor, out of Brains’ way. “Brains, set aside anything you and MAX find in a secret compartment or something.” 

The ‘R.A.D’ was a distracted one as Brains hunted out the right screwdriver. 

“We’ll handle the bedroom and office,” Gordon corrected him, gesturing at Scott, himself and John. “You’re not tackling that by yourself.”

“I’ll pack up Lee’s room,” Virgil said. He started heading off, stopped, and turned back to the wall of portraits. “...actually, I need to do something first. Brains, can I borrow a Phillips #3? John, can you go get…?”

The astronaut was already striding off. “F.A.B.”  

“C-catch!” The tool was lobbed across the room and everyone paused to watch as Virgil snatched the tool out of the air and set to unscrewing the frame holding Jeff’s portrait to the wall. Disconnecting the projector and wiring behind the picture was simplicity in itself, but the soft thud as Virgil set it down had a note of finality that no one expected, an underline to the statement that reinforced what they knew: Jefferson Grant Tracy really was gone, and he was never coming back. When John returned with Scott, Gordon, Kayo and Alan’s portraits and Penelope’s small picture in his arms, that point was underscored again. 

Jeff Tracy was gone, but the gaping hole left by his previous absence had already been filled. 

While John placed Penelope’s picture back where it belonged, Virgil attended to the wall portraits. Three deft movements got the projector hooked up to the back of Scott’s portrait, then, with John’s help to hold the frame just so, it was fixed back where it belonged. For now  Gordon’s portrait was attached to the left, where Kyrano’s used to hang, and Kayo’s was hung beside it. The projectors and wiring would come later. A few steps to the right and Lee’s portrait was removed, swapped out for Alan. “I’m gonna rearrange everyone and update this one later,” Virgil said as he stepped back from Alan’s picture and dusted off his hands, the screwdriver tucked into his back pocket, “but this looks just fine for now.” 

“I agree.” John placed one hand on Virgil’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. 

“C’mon, let’s get this over with,” Gordon said, waving down towards the office. “We’ll start there.” 

T H U N D E R F A L L 

After gathering up a number of boxes, totes, and crates, the three of them stood in the doorway of the office for a moment to let feelings and memories crash over and through them like a wave at high tide. The office itself was slightly disorganized, reflecting how rapid the decampment had been, but like the rest of the house, it’d barely changed from the day it’d been first set up. 

Gordon wrinkled his nose as the faint hint of vetiver and bergamot that tickled it. "Blergh. We're going to have to take this place down to the studs to get that smell out." He strode forward with all the authority of a colour officer of Spectrum and dropped his arm load of unbuilt boxes on the high end office chair that had been one of his first purchases when he returned. 

It was enough to shake Scott and John out of their reverie. "We need to do this systematically," John said crisply. "A group for iR, a group for TI, one for personal stuff, and - "

"One for Spectrum." Scott set his arm load down by the door and assembled a box with a few flicks of his wrists. "Five, please sort through the computer files. Make sure there are no little surprises waiting for the unwary. Xanthic take the bookcases and any physical files, I'll work on the desk itself. Keep an eye out for hidden compartments. The colonel told me that Copper found several in the CEO's office and in the penthouse." "Well, I know of at least one." John went over to a low bookcase, put his hand inside it, and looked satisfied at a barely there 'click'. Then he pulled open a hidden compartment in the side and removed a sheaf of papers. "How the HELL did you know about that?" Gordon just stared. 

John set the papers down on the desk. "Virgil and I did our best to get as much information as we could to Spectrum." Scott wrapped his nearest brother into a hug. He had some suspicions about what the two of them might have gone through, but he was afraid to ask. With everything they’d already gone though, he wasn’t sure about his ability to carry the weight of any more of UnNamed’s sins right now.

Though it was with regret, John pulled free after a moment. Melting into the hug would have been so nice, but it would just keep things from progressing. "Let's get to work." 

They set to their task, though Gordon did open the one window and switched the fan to ‘high’ to help air the room out before he tackled his section. They worked in the easy quiet of people who had worked together for a long time, broken only by the 'hmm', 'oh', the occasional swear word, and sounds of boxes being assembled and labeled.

"Uh…guys?" Gordon was kneeling next to the low banquette that doubled as a bar and filing cabinet, a thick sheaf of papers in his hands. "I think this is some of Mom's stuff."

"What!" John left the bookcase and Scott vaulted over the desk as the fastest route. They both looked over Gordon's shoulders at the incredibly precise printing of a technical engineer on the paper. Scott reached out and touched the words with a gentle finger. There were very few relics of their mother, mostly memories and vids. So something tangible, something she'd actually touched and used was even more special.

"Look at the date on this." John pointed. "This is from just before - "

"Just before she died." It was Cobalt that bit the words out. 

John picked the sheet up and narrowed his eyes at it. "Scott, can you check the math on this?"

For a moment Scott was both horrified and enraged that John would question anything their mother had done. Cobalt shoved that emotion to the back and took the paper to read the math. Then his eyes got wide, and he looked the equations over again. "They look right. I'd need to get with you, Virg, Brains, and EOS, but I think they're right. Why the HELL would he sit on this!?"

"Waiting for the right time to pull another rabbit out of the hat. He just got sent to the Oort Cloud first. I think he forgot it even existed." "Um, hello?” Gordon waved his hands at them. “Confused squid here, what are you talking about?" Scott placed the paper on the rest with reverence. "If the math is right, it's an improvement on the magnetic pinch bottle" 

Gordon's month opened and closed several times, then he shook his head, and looked at the amount of paper in his hands. "I wonder what else is in here." 

"That, little brother, is a very good question."

"And one that will have to wait until later." John straightened and rolled his neck, gravity still sucked. "I'll mark a box 'Mom' and put anything she did in it to look at later. We can't afford to get sidetracked." He looked over the state of the room, they’d made progress, but they still had a way to go. 

"Yeah, that's fair." Gordon aligned the paper with care. "But why keep it here? Why not in a firebox or something?" "Because UnNamed liked to gloat over his wins and trophies." Scott gave the desk a narrow look. "I'm going to get some tools and take that thing apart." He stalked out of the room. 

"Is he going to be okay?" John gazed after their brother. Gordon tapped on John's leg. "Box for this, please? As for being okay? None of us are okay. Well, maybe Sherbert is, but the rest of us aren't, but I think we might be on course to be okay, eventually." 

"When did you get so insightful?" John's mouth twitched in amusement.

"Always have been. I just haven't needed to show it off before," he shrugged. "Well, not until Koala base and joining Spectrum. Now, I still need a box for this, so I can see what else is in here." 

"F.A.B!"

T H U N D E R F A L L 

They all knew that the purge of the house would be a matter of days or even weeks, not hours, as they dug through the accumulations of a lifetime and sifted their findings, but it was a start and already things looked different, and that was what they needed right now: something different, a fresh page to write the first chapter of their future on. 

After disassembling the desk (and finding a hidden cache in the process) Brains, MAX, and EOS set to unlocking the Thunderbirds and clearing their operating systems of any other unwelcome surprises. Virgil stripped Lee’s room of everything and dragged the mattress out into the hallway to be recycled later, then collared Alan and took him downstairs to clean up the kitchen and make enough food to see them through until daybreak. Their work resulted in a refrigerator full of sandwiches, wraps, bowls of fruit and yoghurt, and small dishes of cooked proteins, vegetables, and carbs that could be easily reheated and eaten as hunger set in. Cooling trays of cookies joined the prepared foods as Alan fixed up some sweet treats to fill in the edges, and Kayo joined John, Scott, and Gordon in clearing the office. When that was as empty as they could make it for now, they moved on to the bedroom, Virgil pitching in as well to help with the sorting and packing.

In the late afternoon, the high-pitched whine of a finely tuned engine heralded Grandma, her little purple jet alighting on the runway with practiced grace. She was welcomed with many hugs and would have been installed in a chair with a cup of tea but at her insistence she instead helped Brains and MAX move out of his ‘quarters’ near the lab and back into his room in the main Villa, then took armloads of bedding and other things to Kayo’s room - which had lain empty since she left - and to the spare rooms in the Round House to make up the beds there for Scott, Gordon and Alan. Wayne, Dosela, and Lee had been given the boys’ rooms and there would be a swap around and reshuffle of rooms when everything had been cleared out and cleansed, but the guest quarters would do for now. 

The sun was five knuckles above the horizon when the family at last began trekking down to the beach, each dropping their first load of burnable stuff next to the stack of firewood Gordon had started collecting from the forest below the villa before going back for more.

At the site picked for the bonfire, Kayo took advantage of a moment when it was just the two of them and put a hand on Scott's arm to keep him from leaving for more boxes. "Can I ask a favour?"

He took her hand and kissed it lightly. "For you, <beloved> anything within my power."

She grinned at him, they were both a little drunk with the idea that it didn't matter who saw them. She tugged his hand to her lips and returned the affection. "I want to borrow One."

He blinked at that. "Sure, but -" "I want to bring my Father here." Her eyes locked on the vee of his shirt. "He took wounds from him that I didn't find out until recently."

He used his free hand to nudge her chin up. "Of course, <beloved>." His thumb ran along her jaw. "Healing isn't a straight line, in anything." His smile was soft. "I'd be thrilled to see your Father again, he's been sorely missed."

“Thank you.” She kissed him, holding his face with both hands, then she was gone, bounding up towards the Villa as if she was afraid this chance would slip out of her fingers. Scott watched her go, and a few minutes later the island shook as the members of International had the rare opportunity to watch a launch of Thunderbird One from the outside.

Alan, who’d just come down with an armload of things to burn, turned to Scott, who was gazing after One with an unreadable expression. "If you're here, who's flying One?"

"Kayo. She's going to get her father."

A deep furrow appeared between Alan's eyebrows. "He left just after the Zero-X, didn't he?"

Scott nodded, finally turning away from trying to watch the now vanished One. "I thought it had something to do with guilt at the time - " he rubbed his face, "but now I'm not so sure."

"Huh." Alan looked around, counting heads and comparing the tally to the number of bedrooms they had. "Where are we going to put him? I mean, there's S.D.'s room -" "No!" Scott slashed a hand through the air. "I don't want anyone sleeping in there until we clean it. Too big a chance of nightmares."

"Or ghosts." Alan shivered in the sunlight."So have him bunk with us?"

Scott watched One's contrail get feathered by the trade winds. "Again no, that's where he and Kayo lived before UnNamed died. We can put him in Kayo's room and she can bunk with us."

"Bunk with you, you mean." Alan smirked.

Scott blanked his face as he fought down the ice cold punch to his heart. Then he took a deep breath. 'It's okay, it doesn't matter anymore. Not among family anyway. Good grief, this is going to be a hard habit to break.' "Only if she wants to. If not, I'll take the couch in the library."

Alan blinked at the bland acceptance, and tried re-route away from the planned brotherly teasing. "Sure your old bones can take that?"

'Brat. He wants to play hard ball, does he? Sorry beloved.' "Haven't had any complaints so far." He thumped Alan on the arm as the younger choked. "Com'n, let's make sure that her room is made up and ready to go."

“Yeah, yeah, fine, eugh.” Alan rolled his eyes and muttered something about ‘TMI’, and Scott chuckled and let it go as they both made their way back up to the house: his family was coming together once again. 

T H U N D E R F A L L 

Within the hour, the whole villa rumbled when the automatic sensors closed all the doors and windows as Thunderbird One made her way back into her hangar. It had been a long time since Scott had watched One land. A long time and probably the only one where he had not been in a drug induced haze. He dithered about whether to take the chute down and meet Kyrano at the unloading platform or wait until he and Kayo came up, shifting towards and away from the chute until Grandma threatened to sit on him. "Give him a chance to breathe,” a firm look accompanied the order, “I suspect this isn't easy for him either." "Yes'm." Lacking anything else to do, Scott started cleaning up the mess from taking things apart and pulling books.  So engrossed in sweeping, that the soft 'thunk' of the seats coming back to position startled him. He set aside the broom, turned, and slammed every mask up he had. He hadn't seen Kyrano in over ten years, yet the older man was unchanged in Scott's memory. The man in front of him now was very different. The grey and black hair was now fully silver and went very well with the ultra formal long sleeved shirt and pants in emerald with a brilliant silver wrap around his waist that reached past his knees. 

"Selamat petang Kyrano, saya gembira dapat berjumpa dengan anda lagi." Scott bowed his head, it wasn't necessary, but it felt right.

"I am happy to see you as well, Mister Scott." He took a step forward and looked around. "There have been many changes since we last met."

"Scott is just fine, Kyrano." He held his hand out, but let it drop when he noticed the thick book in Kyrano's right hand. "A lot," he agreed, "and hopefully with more to come. Better, happier ones."

Kyrano inclined his head slightly. "We can but hope for that,  - Scott."

"Kyrano!" Grandma hurried up from the kitchen, wiping her hands. "It's so wonderful to see you again!" She enveloped him in a hug.

Scott circled around the other way to where Kayo was watching. "He's going to stay?" He nodded at the suitcase next to her leg. "Tonight and tomorrow. After that, he wants to go back." Her brow was furrowed.

"As long or as little as he wants." He put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you good?"

She sighed. "As good as I can be right now." She picked up the bag. "So, where do I take this?" "Your room. I was pretty sure he didn't want to deal with Gordon and Alan snoring." He took the bag from her. "Oh really." She raised an eyebrow at him, "And where will I sleep?" "My bed in the Round House, my presence is optional."

Her eyes gleamed as she stepped into his personal space. "You are never optional," and kissed him fiercely.

He returned the gesture, ignoring the pleased sound from Grandma, and looked at Kyrano. “I’ll take care of your bag, Kyrano.” 

“And I’ll take care of you!” Grandma stepped in before Kyrano could object. Taking his arm, she turned him towards the stairs. “Look at you! You look like you haven’t had a good meal in far too long, come along now.” 

Everyone could hear the faint smile in Kyrano’s voice as he graciously acquiesced to the fussing with a fond “Yes, Grandma Tracy,” and permitted himself to be guided down the stairs and into the kitchen. 

T H U N D E R F A L L

After having a decent meal from the stockpile of cooking that Alan and Virgil had done, Kyrano eventually freed himself from Grandma Tracy with the promise of sitting down to have tea and cookies outside. ('Not mine, for goodness sake, Alan has turned into quite the baker.') He headed out to the patio, only to pause, his gaze drawn to a faint path in the surrounding greenery. He slipped down it and looked over what had once been his refuge and joy.

The vegetables had vanished under the herbs and flowers that had been allowed to run riot. But he could still make out, or possibly remember, the paths between the beds. The ones that let him soothe his restless heart, for even a few moments, and soothe the grief that still pricked at him.

There was a soft scuff behind him and he smiled slightly at the caution he was still granted. "I'm sorry, Kyrano, I tried."

He brought his gaze to the slim profile that came to a stop next him. "I'm sure you did, Mister Gordon." He turned back to the once garden.

"Too many things and not enough hours in the day." Gordon's mouth twisted. 

"I am certain that Mister Tracy ensured that." Kyrano was also certain that Mister Gordon hadn't been around to tend to it either. Even in his exile, he'd tried to stay current on all things International Rescue. He had seen how busy these young men had been, and that was only what the media had been privy to. He was quite certain that the actual number of rescues was much, much higher.

"Heh, just wasn't him." Gordon rubbed the back of his head. "I let other things take precedence, I told myself I'd get to it 'sometime', but there was always something else." He kicked at the ground, shame staining his cheeks. "I did stay on top of the watering system though. Nothing died because of that."

"Then it is still a garden, it merely wants cleaning and repair to show its beauty again," Kyrano told him.

"There are a lot of things that need repairing, but we're working on that." 

Kyrano nodded. "The task of a lifetime, Mister Gordon." He turned to the younger man.

"You can stop with the 'Mister' stuff. That UnNamed's power trip. I'm just Gordon."

"Very well,  - Gordon." Kyrano inclined his head. "Your grandmother told me that there was a bonfire in the offing?" He hefted the book in his right hand. "I have something I wish to add to that." 

Gordon looked at the book for a moment, then Kyrano, and gave a sharp nod. "Down at the beach. Can I show you the way?"

"I would like that very much."

“Hey, Gordo, where are you?” 

Both of them turned in the direction of the call. Kyrano looked at the young man striding up the footpath and it took him far longer than it should have for him to realize that this was Master Alan. 

Gordon cracked a broad grin. "Hey Al! Look who showed up."

Blond brows knotted over piercing eyes in arctic blue, then they warmed to the blue of the summer sky. "Kyrano!"

Kyrano found himself lifted off his feet in an all-enveloping hug. "Oh! It is so good to see you again!"

He wrapped his free arm around broad shoulders to steady himself. "I would like to see you as well - Mister Alan." He was gently set down and found his face searched by those summer sky eyes.

"I wasn't Master Alan then, and I'm not Mister Alan now. I'll answer to Alan or Al, feel free to use either." 

"I will - Alan." He looked the younger man over. There were still hints of the boy, if you knew where to look, but he was much more a man. Part of Kyrano mourned for that boy, but he rejoiced for the man in front of him. This was a Tracy he would never have to worry about again. "Gordon was showing me to the beach. There have been many changes since I was last here." 

"I bet. John and Virg are on the beach, I'm sure they'll be glad to see you too." Alan marched back down the path. "You can keep an eye on them and make sure they aren't overworking."

Kyrano raised an eyebrow at that. The chances of keeping a Tracy from overworking were zero, but he followed along with Gordon at his side. 

Down at the beach, the last two Tracys were sorting through boxes and making piles of like items. "Guys! Look who Kayo brought back." 

Two heads, one red and one black, turned toward them and board grins broke out. "Kyrano!" was called out in happy voices.

Kyrano was glad of his own training at that moment. If he had not been told these men were John and Virgil, he would not have recognized either. His hand tightened on his shame as they both came forward. It would seem that Scott was not the only one to suffer from Mister Tracy's deliberate cruelty. 

"Oh, it's good to see you." Virgil came in for a hug.

Kyrano was sure the grip on his shame was white with the effort it took to control himself. Virgil was like holding a baby bird. "It is good to see you as well, Virgil." There, he was better about that. Once he had been let loose from Virgil, he held his hand out for John. Only to be pulled into another hug. He couldn't remember if he'd ever been hugged by John before. It was brief, but it would seem that he was not the only one learning new things. “Please,” he smiled as he found a spot alongside the brothers, “tell me how I can assist.” 

T H U N D E R F A L L

The sun was hovering over the horizon as the family finally gathered together on the rocky beach below the houses with the last of their burdens. A gentle breeze blew up from the sea, the tips of the waves were gilded with gold, and the sea birds shrilled and shrieked as they dipped and wove over those lapping waves. 

Picking a spot on the salt-crusted line that marked the highest of tides, Gordon immediately set to building a ‘log cabin’ of kindling and torn up paper while Scott, Virgil, and Alan stacked rocks to make a firepit. Bits of the desks, stacks of books, and boxes of papers, sheafs of newspaper clippings and printed articles, magazines, and other miscellanea waited in haphazard piles to be purged out of their lives. Grandma found herself a place to sit, using a flat rock as an impromptu table for a collection of thermos flasks of hot chocolate and coffee, and a small army of cups, and someone else had brought down some food, although no one felt particularly hungry right now. Everything was readied by the time the edge of the sun touched the horizon, but the finality of it all made everyone hesitate for a beat, a hesitancy that was broken as Alan girded himself and strode forward.

“We need a fire-starter.” Alan ignored the can of lighter fluid that MAX offered him and hunted through the boxes instead. He picked one out of the collection and pulled out the contents: roughly a dozen bottles of cologne, either gifts that he’d been given or indulgences he’d bought for himself. All expensive and oversized, for the most part they were familiar brands but the kind of product only made for the cream of society, made with details like semi-precious or precious stones, lead crystal, and actual gold embellishments. 

Alan selected a bottle at random and pulled off the ornate top, intending to pour it over the prepared wood, but found himself temporarily stymied by the limiter that kept the contents from gushing out of the mouth of the bottle when it was tipped over. That road block lasted only as long as it took him to pull the small folding knife from his pocket. He looked at it for a moment, his expression carefully blank, then shrugged, flicked it open, wedged the blade under the lip of the limiter and prised it off. When he poured the contents over the nest of paper, wood shavings, and the dense pieces of desk, the smell of it threatened to overwhelm them, but the breeze off the sea was just strong enough to keep the air relatively clear. One by one, the different bottles were emptied out and lined up beside the firepit like a row of silent sentinels, and the resulting stink from the combined scents was almost a physical presence. 

It was a pretty decent metaphor for the man they were here to expunge from their lives. 

“Good idea,” Gordon said when it was all done. “Scott?” He dug into his pocket and produced one of the long-necked lighters they kept for the BBQ. 

“Yeah.” His eyes on the prepared bonfire, Scott reached out and accepted the device, his fingers closing around the handle with deliberate intent. Three steps got his back to the wind to shield the flame and he crouched down well clear of it - Alan had just poured a lot of ethanol on a lot of flammable material. A stretch had the nozzle of the lighter in amidst the crumpled paper. One click of the trigger, two clicks, then the flame sprung out of the end and immediately caught the fumes with a soft ‘whoomph’. Blue fire immediately started dancing over the offered kindling, the smell burned away into smoke, paper blackened and crackled, wood shavings became rimed with orange embers that left trails of charcoal, then the fire caught properly as the twigs and branches gave in to entropy accelerated by energy. A couple of bigger chunks of wood, another section of desk, then the bonfire was burning well. 

Gordon stepped up first, a piece of fabric clutched in his fist. Scott immediately recognised the pink flamingo shirt that he’d worn sometimes, especially when he was playing the part of ‘goofy dad out to lovingly embarrass his kids’. Three quick movements got it knotted into a ball, a good squirt of lighter fluid ensured it’d be destroyed, and a toss got it launched into the hottest part of the fire to quickly be crisped away into ashes and smoke. 

Moving with a level of care because of the lingering injuries from his emergency landing, his overall condition, and pushing himself with the work of the day, John sat down on a convenient rock and dragged over a medium-sized box. With a certain clinical detachment, he started pulling out certificates, awards, commendations, diplomas, newspaper and magazine articles and covers, printed photos of him with persons of note, programs from conferences where he’d been a keynote speaker, the lists of achievements and accolades he’d received, and all the other things he’d used to illustrate how wonderful he was. One by one, John very deliberately twisted and crumpled those things between his long fingers and tossed them into the bonfire to be erased from the physical record. 

He was only partway through the box when Alan sat down beside him with his own box: some of the cullings of the library and bookcases. This one had all the autobiographies,  handbooks, advice books, guidebooks, and how-tos that were well-thumbed by his hands, pages marked up with notes in the margins, and sections underlined or marked with faded highlighter. The noises of the night - the shh-shh of waves against the pebbled beach, the sea birds, the rustle of leaves, and the crackling fire - were punctuated by the sound of bindings ripping as Alan tore the paperbacks into manageable sections and used his knife to cut apart the hardcover books. The mangled chunks were silently stacked between himself and John for the elder to toss in once he’d emptied his box. Pebbles crunched under feet and wheels as Brains and MAX came up to flank the two astronauts and help them toss those chunks into the flames.

On the other side of the fire, Virgil stared down at three boxes and their contents for a long moment, his hands clenching and unclenching. These boxes were full of mementos. Little carvings, paintings, pictures, and figurines from markets and gift shops across the world, collected on the trips he’d taken them on to maintain the fiction of a happy, healthy family life. Artworks that had been gifted to him. Knickknacks, curios and other things that had caught his eye as items worthy of decorating the spaces he lived in. There were a lot more of course, but these were the ones that could be burned. The rest - jewellery, shells, minerals, clothing, anything ceramic or porcelain - was either consigned to being recycled or boxed away to deal with later. A lot of it had monetary value, if not for the materials themselves then for the work put into them by artisans and masters of their craft, but they were all contaminated by being valued by him. 

A reach into the closest box and Virgil pulled out a rosewood statuette of a bald eagle on a branch, staring out into the distance with a fierce eye. The length of his forearm, it was beautiful, finely made and detailed, but it had been made for him, and him alone. Virgil crouched, stretched out and placed it into the fire to be consumed, using a handy stick of driftwood to push it deep into the orange embers. 

There was a small lull in the items being fed to the fire as new boxes were brought forward, it was into this that Kyrano stepped. The firelight cast shadows on his face, hiding the emotions as he looked at the book in his hands. Kayo moved to stand next to him, her hand on his shoulder. He closed his eyes and threw the book into the heart of the blaze with startling violence, where it landed with a shower of sparks that danced in the updraft. Then he took a deep breath, opened his eyes and watched as the flames consumed this offering. 

Piece by piece, the boxes were emptied, and the dancing firelight pushed back the darkness of the deepening night. The moon was high in the sky by the time the last box was stacked with the rest, ready to be filled again, and the fire had started to ebb on its bed of ashes and coals.  

Virgil stared into the flames for a long minute, then picked up something from beside his spot, got up with a grunt of effort, and brought it over to where Scott was standing with his arm looped around Kayo’s waist. 

“You should be the one to burn this.” Virgil said as he handed the item to the eldest: the two agent portraits, already stripped from the stretchers that used to hold them taut and rolled up into a tube. 

It was inside out and it looked bigger and felt thicker and heavier than he expected, so Scott uncurled it a little and took a quick peek before rolling it back up. It wasn’t just the two expected wall portraits, it was also the oversized, half-finished portrait that Virgil had been working on while they were testing Brains’ T-drive engine. 

“Yeah… I should…” Holding the paintings in both hands, Scott stood beside the fire for a long moment. 

This was, in a very real sense, a funeral pyre for the man that their father should have been, the man he wanted the world to think he was: the loving husband, the doting father, the brilliant designer, the intrepid adventurer, the canny businessman, the selfless philanthropist. ‘And that’s what I’m going to mourn,” Scott decided, “what could have been, what should have been, but wasn’t. It wasn’t my fault. I was a kid. He was the adult. He chose to do those things to me and to Mom and to everyone else. He had so many chances to not do those things, to actually be what he wanted the world to think he was. But every time he chose to not be that man. I choose to be better.’ With that, Scott crouched down, shoved the roll into the hottest part of the embers, picked up the last piece of the desk, and used it to weigh down the canvases so they wouldn’t unfurl. That task done, he stood up and stepped back, silently curling his arm around Kayo’s shoulders as they watched it burn.

The fire pounced on the new source of fuel, greedily consuming the oil paint, linseed, and cotton. A tongue of fire shot out of the end like a candle, casting a bright light over everything. The canvases steadily blackened and cracked over the next handful of minutes, charring and burning down into foul-smelling smoke and delicate ashes, then the chunk of desk caught fire too, ensuring that no trace remained of the images, only memories that could now be put away and left to fade. 

“Well, that’s that then.” Grandma dusted off her hands as she stood. “Gordon, Alan, get the buckets and douse this, then we all need to get up to bed.” 

“I will take care of that,” Kyrano gently interjected. “You have all had a long and trying day, go and rest.” 

“Yeah… yeah, we will,” Scott nodded slowly. He half-turned, then turned back. “Kyrano… you’ll still be here in the morning? We’ve all missed you.” 

A beat, then a small smile creased the older man’s weathered face. “I will.” 

The flight over to the nearest airport was not too long and Jeff had managed to convince Scott to stay in his seat by promising that he could sit in the cockpit as long as in turn Scott promised not to touch anything. He didn’t touch anything as he promptly fell asleep ten minutes into the journey and woke up just as they landed.

Lucy, John and Virgil were waiting at the airport for them, and Jeff wasted no time getting them onboard and turning around to head back home, happy to have the cockpit to himself, spent the time trying to decide the best way to discuss Scott’s broken collarbone.

He’d not come up with a plan by the time they arrived, so he decided to wait until Lucy said something.

Scott’s joy at seeing his Mom and brothers again pulled at Lucy’s heart and she decided that she’d not leave him alone again. The sling, the way her eldest was holding himself, spoke of something happening in her absence, and the fact that Jeff hadn’t said anything spoke volumes…volumes of something she wasn’t quite sure of but didn’t like.

As the boys went willingly to bed she thought about the man she’d married.

Over the last year or so, since she’d fallen pregnant with John, little things she’d seen had caused a worry to begin to gnaw at her. Lucy had paid special attention to how Jeff interacted with his other boys, had noticed the difference in how he treated Scott but he’d promised to take care of Scott while they were gone.

Yawning widely had been the only thing that stopped Scott talking, and Lucy took the opportunity to check out his injury.

‘What happened to your arm, Scott?’

Yawn ‘Dad and I were playing ball when I missed catching it.’

‘Oh dear, that’s not good. What happened?’

‘My arm hurt and my shoulder, so Daddy took me to the clinic.’

‘What did they say?’

‘That I broke my caric…clarnic…collarbone and I needed to keep this sling on until it gets better. Did…did I do something wrong?’

‘No, Scotty. You didn’t do anything wrong, it was an accident. Why would you say that?’

‘Dunno.’

Unsure of the sudden hesitation in Scott’s voice, Lucy kissed his forehead and carefully tucked him in.

‘Now you need to promise me that you will do as you were told so that you heal fully.’

‘Yes Mum.’

Scott yawned again and sighed, eyelids dropping as Lucy bestowed another kiss. He burrowed slightly into the bed and Lucy smiled broadly, leaving him to sleep. As she turned the light off her son’s voice froze her in the doorway.

‘And the policeman was very nice. But Daddy said I needed to set a better example for my brothers.’

When she turned around Scott was asleep.

Nostrils flaring, Lucy stomped down the stairs and into the study where Jeff was working as usual.

Jeff watched in awe as Lucy launched into him. Not many people stood up to him, there weren’t many he’d let stand up to him…she was magnificent. He let her rant for a while until he couldn’t take it any longer.

Standing and coming around the desk Jeff pulled her close, ignoring her fists hitting him, and kissed her soundly. 

Eventually they broke apart. Lucy blinked, trying hard to process what was happening, but Jeff was grinning, and before she could really decide how to react he’s swept her up into a bridal hold and carried her from the room.

They settled down into a routine.

For next three years Jeff’s work with NASA meant he spent five months on the moon, with two weeks either side for isolation, and the rest of the time he spent building up his business, his time divided between their farmhouse and a warehouse with an office in town.

He employed two engineers-come-designers and while he knew they were good he still asked Lucy regularly to look over designs. Often she contributed ideas herself, spending time in the dining room where she could spread the paper over the huge table to give her room.

There were times Jeff would come home from the office to find Lucy deep in the designing zone, Virgil drawing on her discarded paper under the table, John curled up reading a book – also under the table – and Scott…well, Scott could be anywhere…

He loved seeing her at work, one pencil in her hair, one behind her ear and one in her hand. Jeff always paid far more attention to her own designs…some were quite revolutionary and gave Jeff goosebumps when he saw their potential. He made sure that these were squirrelled away for an appropriate time.

When Jeff was off-planet and it was just herself and her boys Lucy revelled in being the Mum of three incredibly bright children.

Not even three yet and Virgil was already showing promise of following her footsteps in music. John was so bright she worried about how to keep him engaged, until she found out that Scott – even though he was five years older – was teaching John what he was learning at school, and the red-head was drinking it all in.

She knew that she was no slouch when it came to Maths, but the speed at which Scott and John worked out some equations left her blinking. It also amused her no end that her children both adored Maths but they loved different branches of the subject, yet both areas worked so well together.

Mornings were spent designing, looking over engineering designs and keeping a distant eye on Tracy Industries while keeping a close eye on Virgil and John. Afternoons were spent with John and Virgil until Scott got home from school, mostly reading, drawing and making music. And cooking. 

John may not be anywhere near as active as either of his brothers, preferring to read or watch, but he loved to get involved with cooking. It was the only activity he didn’t mind getting dirty for. Scott also enjoyed learning to cook but he was often too impatient when waiting for the results. It warmed her heart to see him hopping from foot to foot in front of the stove.

They grew up fast.

‘Daddy! Daddy! Look what I can do!’

Scott had been practicing climbing one of the trees in the yard for when Jeff got home from the Moon and the first opportunity he had he’d tried to get his Dad to come watch. Lucy had been wary but also proud as he practiced, sharing his elation when he became good and fast, climbing like it was natural to him.

At his call Jeff had sighed, but one look from Lucy had him following Scott into the yard. He watched as Scott began to scale the tree, keeping to himself the annoyance that was growing as Scott kept looking back down at him. Stupid boy was going to fall if he didn’t keep his eyes on where he was going…

Of course Scott lost his footing and fell, breaking his arm quite badly.

The telling off that Jeff had given Scott had subdued him for several days and for a long time afterwards Scott had been withdrawn from his brothers. Lucy found herself unable to balance Jeff’s words out for once, despite constantly trying, so eventually she had sat him down and had a chat with him about responsibilities and balancing that with his own wants and needs. It had still taken him longer than she would have liked but he did get back to his bouncy self.

Over the next couple of years Scott’s irrepressible nature just grew and grew, despite several dressing-downs from his Dad and lectures about looking out for his brothers. And with his growing age came a growing number of incidents and broken bones. 

Most could be put down to child high jinks but Lucy knew in her heart that no matter the amount of times she told Scott he was good enough there was that little voice in the back of his head that sounded like his father and that told him nothing he ever did would be good enough for Jeff…Lucy could see it in his actions around his father, how he was always trying so hard to get something from Jeff. Knowing that Jeff just wasn’t going to give Scott the validation he needed Lucy made sure that, as much as she could, she heaped praise and commendation on her eldest son.

It was also during this time that teachers at Scott’s school began to notice little changes in behaviour. Jeff on the Moon and Jeff at home produced two different Scotts, and – unknown to Lucy – reports were made and submitted regarding concerns of neglect, especially since Jeff had forgotten to pick him up several times. The levels of injuries were beginning to worry some of them too, especially Scott’s baseball coach.

Lucy had not been to a teacher-parent conference alone – NASA’s schedule meant that Jeff was always available for these – and no teacher, not even Scott’s baseball coach, felt bold enough to confront the Great Jeff Tracy in the school, not wanting to cause a scene and some not wanting to lose jobs they couldn’t afford. News had rapidly spread of teachers losing not only their jobs but also pensions and being blacklisted and unable to find another job – and that was just the threats known. Whispers of other things happening were also rife.

Whatever reports did make it to the correct officials were quickly buried in paperwork and red tape, something Miles Helsan was very, very good at. After all, Jeff Tracy paid him to be the best and he prided himself on being the best. It became a matter of pride that he’d wrapped those complainers up in so much red tape that none of them dared to even try to speak to Lucy about what was going on.

~

Not long after Virgil had turned three Lucy found out she was pregnant again. 

She didn’t know how she felt about this pregnancy. 

Lucy had been so careful after failing to leave Jeff. She knew that their…relationship was not a balanced one and she didn’t want to give him any more power over herself and her boys, but there had been a severe meningitis outbreak at Scott’s school and every student and family member had been tested. Lucy had tested positive for the bacteria although she didn’t have the infection and had been put onto a course of strong antibacterials. What she hadn’t thought about was how they would cancel out her secret birth control.

Jeff was ecstatic and immediately talked to NASA about changing the timing of the next mission. There was some discussion…Jeff might have levied threats of quitting before NASA came to an agreement to bring the mission forward so that he could be back for the last two months of the pregnancy.

Scott was – predicably – as ecstatic as Jeff was at the prospect of becoming a big brother again, and he showed that had he taken Jeff’s talk about looking after his Mom and brothers to heart. Lucy couldn’t help but smile as her ten-year-old suddenly showed that cooking with Grandpa Grant every time they stayed had paid off with stacks of pancakes whenever she would let him get away with it.

Which, as the weeks progressed, became more and more frequent. This pregnancy was not going as well as the others. The morning sickness was much more severe, some days she couldn’t seem to keep even water down.

It came to a head one day in mid-November when Scott came home from school to find Lucy’s head in Virgil’s lap and John on the phone to the emergency services. Scott dropped everything and used his Mom’s mobile to call their Grandparents. Ruth stayed on the line until the ambulance arrived and she asked Scott to hand the phone to one of the paramedics. 

Scott didn’t know what she said to them but they allowed all three children to accompany them since there was no adult in the house and there was no one else who could look after them.

However, the doctors wouldn’t let the three of them into the room while their Mom was being examined. Fortunately they didn’t have long before their grandparents arrived. Grant took them all to the café while Ruth slipped into the examination room.

Grandpa took them home that night while Ruth stayed overnight with Lucy and brought them back the next day where Ruth explained that Lucy would be staying in a couple more days due to dehydration.

They moved that evening to the farm and once Lucy was released she joined them. Ruth had sat the boys down the night before and explained that sometimes a pregnancy doesn’t run smoothly and that their Mom would need careful treatment.

Saying that the pregnancy didn’t run smoothly was a complete understatement. She was in and out of hospital several times before Jeff was due home the day before Valentine’s Day. He’d kept in touch weekly as always but NASA had said they wouldn’t be able to bring him home.

Lucy was admitted three hours before Jeff was due home so his welcome home was forgotten in the mad rush to get to the hospital. Grant kept the boys with him in the private waiting room while Jeff and Ruth staying in the room with Lucy.

Time dragged for Scott and John. Virgil was happy sitting on the floor and using the small table he was drawing with the crayons a kind orderly had brought in. Eventually Grant had two sleeping children with him, Virgil on his lap and John leaning against his side, but Scott refused to sleep despite the tiredness, pacing back and forth. Grant couldn’t help but smile – he was acting exactly as his Father did, right down to the little twist when he changed direction.

It was three minutes after midnight on Valentine’s Day Gordon Cooper Tracy was born.

It was two months before Gordon came home, the day before Scott’s birthday. Scott declared it the best birthday gift he’d ever been given.

Lucy wasn’t the same physically after the difficult birth, and privately the doctors had spoken to Jeff and emphasised the importance that she didn’t bear any more children, at least for a while.

Jeff thought long and hard about his future. NASA was becoming boring. He’d done everything with them he could. There were no more frontiers to be defeated by him. Maybe this scare with Lucy was the kick he needed to start putting his other plans into place.

So he quit NASA and began working Tracy Industries full time.

He hired the 19-year-old daughter of the neighbouring farm who would help with John, Virgil and Gordon and take quite a bit of pressure off of Lucy with housework and cooking. Senna Jones was ecstatic to help, it would help immensely with her plans for a childcare degree.

A new normal began to manifest. Senna allowed Lucy to take the time she needed to recover. Gordon was, thankfully, a happy and easy child. His traumatic start in life didn’t dampen his love of life. Even as a baby he was always laughing and smiling, and Lucy took to calling him her sunshine baby.

John basically ignored Senna but she didn’t mind, explaining to Lucy one day that one of her younger brothers had autism too. It was the first time that someone had labelled John. He’d looked up and levelled a stare at Senna, but then returned to the book he was reading. Lucy shrugged. This was not news to her, but she did suggest that Senna not say that in front of Jeff.

It had made Lucy bite her lip. Jeff wanted – had decided even – that his children were perfect and he’d sack Senna if one whisper of imperfection reached his ears. So she’d just made sure to teach him as much as possible and had suggested frequently that the boys should go to private schools to get the best education. She’d already picked the one that would suit both Scott and John’s unique learning requirements.

At first Jeff had vetoed a private school for both boys, but as John started school and then Virgil and both became targets of bullies Lucy was able to persuade Jeff that they would be safer and learn much better. And of course, having his children private schooled would also be a feather in his cap.

She knew how to stroke Jeff’s ego so that her boys would get the best possible that Jeff’s money would buy. 

As the business leapt from strength-to-strength Jeff had begun to take his family on increasingly high-profile holidays. He bought a chalet in Aspen, Colorado and a beach villa in Rockport, Texas with aims once he hit his multi-billion to add a private island. He had goals to outdo Larry Ellisons legacy, albeit without his egalitarian beliefs…

That summer break after Jeff had bought the villa they went on holiday to the beach. And that was how they found out that Gordon was in fact a merbaby in disguise. They had had their suspicions – trying to get the boy out of the bath was harder than getting him to eat his greens after all – and getting him out of the ocean proved just as difficult.

The four-year-old was in his element. Virgil too seemed to enjoy both the water and the beach. He enjoyed building elaborate sandcastles and digging moats. John…hated everything about the beach but he did troupe down to the beach with them all and sat on a beach towel under an umbrella and read his books. Scott also took to the water as his youngest brother, but he particularly enjoyed the windsurfing and paddleboarding. 

Lucy felt that both Scott and Gordon would benefit from further lessons, maybe even for surfing since Jeff had been talking about selling the Rockport villa already and buying one in either California or Florida. While she knew this was more about moving them ‘in the right circles’ Lucy was determined to make the most of it for all her boys, especially Scott. He was a teenager now and she wanted to give him some interests outside the home for him.

Despite everything she tried to do Scott was still tied to his brothers, bound to them by those hated words of his father. 

“Look after your brothers Scott. That’s what you’re here for.”

She wanted to throttle Jeff sometimes. Especially when her eldest looked at his father with that adoration in his eyes…

The holiday ran from late June to late July. When they returned Jeff flew to New York to finalise a deal that could turn him from a multi-millionaire to a billionaire. 

He had been excited, giddy even, all holiday. He acted more like the man she’d initially met on that fateful night. Jeff had kept his distance from her since Gordon had been born but that holiday…he’d been kind, even to Scott, and one night Senna took the boys to a beach party and the two had a romantic dinner and a lot of wine…

And six weeks later Lucy found out she was pregnant.

This time Lucy took it easy from the very start. The doctors said worrying things like preterm labour, placenta previa and pre-eclampsia. A big concern was high blood pressure, and Ruth had needed to take Lucy to one side to help calm her down.

The chat with Ruth did help to calm her down, and Lucy returned home with a clearer head if not a lighter heart. They sat the boys down – Gordon on Scott’s lap and John and Virgil side-by-side – and explained that yes, they had a new brother or sister on the way but Momma would possibly be as ill as she had been with Gordon.

Scott paled but immediately rallied, holding Gordon tightly as he promised Lucy that he’d look after his brothers just as Daddy said he should. Lucy couldn’t quite suppress the shudder at his words, but she knew he meant well. And she also knew that, left unchecked Scott would run himself into the ground caring for them all even at the tender age of thirteen.

This time they were prepared. Ruth offered to move in with Lucy and Senna, but Lucy asked if they could come live with her and Grant instead. When she saw how Grant’s face lit up Lucy knew she’d made the right decision. Jeff also agreed that moving in with his parents was a good idea. Setting up the new headquarters in New York was more complicated than he’d thought it would be so he was happy that he could spend more time there and not worry about his wife. 

Lucy had been annoyed at first, but as the week passed and Jeff still wasn’t home she decided to regard his continued absence as a gift for Scott and his brothers. And at the end of the week they moved wholesale to the Tracy Farmstead. The school had been reluctant to let Scott and John leave for almost two-thirds of the school year but with Lucy promising that they would remote in and that she’d ensure they did their homework – not that that had been an issue for either of them. Virgil they decided to delay putting into school – with his late birthday it was something they could legitimately do – but he’d attend the classes with his older brothers for some of the time.

Senna was excited to live on a real farm too, and Scott spent the first few days waking her up at “silly-o’clock”, as she called it, to teach her how to collect the hen’s eggs and the other early morning chores around the farm, but she secretly loved it.

The three women planned out the week’s activities to include the schooling Scott and John and used the farm as much as possible to help illustrate the lessons. All four boys thrived.

Jeff called every week. The new headquarters were almost ready for use and he kept his parents and Lucy entertained with stories of what was going on and who he’d been networking with. He’d already secured two new contracts that promised to take Tracy Industries international with help from a new acquaintance. Lord Hugh Creighton-Ward had been at some kind of gala Jeff had attended and the pair had hit it off. Jeff had all-but crowed about the budding friendship to his family, inviting the Brit over for their summer holiday next year.

Late December Jeff finally made it home. He felt guilty for the months he’d been apart from his family, and over Christmas he booked their cabin in Aspen and the neighbouring one so that Grant and Ruth could stay as well. He timed it for after the birth but before Scott’s birthday, and right up until the end of the Christmas holidays it was all the boys could talk about.

In true Tracy fashion the baby decided not to come on time, this time delaying like Virgil had done. As the promised skiing holiday approached ever closer Scott, John and Virgil began to get increasingly worried that the baby would come while they were away, but to everyone’s relief Alan Shepard Tracy was born with ten days to go before they were due to leave.

The delivery was smooth and textbook, there was no tearing or other issues and mother and baby were released the same day to welcoming arms and delighted brothers. 

As expected Scott was besotted, trying to take over nappy changing and burping times so that his Mom could have a rest. John – at no point interested in this messy side of being a big brother – nonetheless spent time reading to Alan, and even Virgil tried helping Scott. Senna found herself chasing the boys out of the nursery frequently so that they would do the other things children should be doing, like homework and playing…

Gordon could be found some days curled around his little brother, talking away to Alan or sharing his toys with him. It was the only time the family had ever seen Gordon still – even eating or drinking he was in constant motion, a trait he shared with his biggest brother.

Jeff and Lucy talked about delaying the holiday since the birth had been so close, but Lucy demurred. She’d have Ruth and Senna there, between them both she would be well looked after.

Most men her father’s age were spending their retirement watching sports, visiting with friends, and playing games with their grandchildren. But most men weren’t her father. He’d stepped back from the world. He was still a protector, but of the wilderness rather than of people. Kayo hoped to give him those grandchildren someday, but that day was further into the future than she liked to admit to. 

The sound of her motorcycle was lost in the noise of Kota Belud, but once she was outside of it, she could see the ragged crown of  Mount Kinabalu over the trees. As she got further into the interior and started to climb the cooler it got and the fewer people were on the road for her to dodge with her 'cycle. As glad as she was to be ‘home’, as much the people, the language, and the landscape soothed and relaxed her, nothing could quite touch the hollow feeling in her gut. She had questions. Big, serious questions that only one person could answer: her father.

As one of the rangers of Kinabalu, Kyrano was allowed to live inside the confines of the park itself. This meant that Kayo could bypass the line of tourists waiting to enter the park, show her pass to the gatekeeper, and just ride on in, leaving the visitors to gape at the slender woman in cargo pants and t-shirt getting into the park before them. The forests were even lusher than what she’d passed through to get here. Her father and the other rangers took their positions of guardians of one of the world’s treasures very seriously. The enclave where the park staff lived was so small that it didn’t even have a proper name, it was just called Town. She stopped at the edge of the small drive and looked the house over. It was up on stilts as was traditional, nestled in a profusion of plants The house itself was all the shades of brown, with handsome fretwork around the wooden eaves on roofs that were high peaked to shed the rains. She pulled out her phone and took a picture of it. Virgil would love to have it as a photo reference.

The mere thought of Virgil and the shape she’d last seen him in, made the pit in her stomach grow deeper and darker. She had to know why. Why they had stayed? Why had her father even worked for that man in the first place? She parked her motorcycle beneath the house next to the battered and ancient pickup truck. It might have been new once, back when Grandma Tracy had been a young girl. She grinned at that thought, she was also glad to see it. Even though she’d let her father know she was coming, his time was not his own. If the park needed him, he would see to it first. Not that Kayo expected any less, being that guardians ran in the family. The sad exception to that was her uncle.  She took the stairs quickly, for all her questions and concerns, she’d missed her father deeply.

Before she could even raise her hand to knock, the door opened and her father was smiling at her. <Daughter!>

<Father!> The Malay was rough on her tongue, she hadn’t spoken it in far too long. Something she would remedy with John’s help. But for right now, she fell into strong arms and a tight hug.

The hug was broken far too soon for her liking, but her father brought her into the house, and from there, not to the richly appointed and vibrant sitting lounge but to the simple kitchen. She was given pride of place while he bustled around getting her cream tea and slices of brightly colored layer cake. Kayo’s mouth watered a little. She could make a version of it, but it never tasted quite the same as her father’s. Maybe something to do with the water on the Island.

The Island, Feather and Ma'at, the bone deep pain in all her brother's eyes. All her questions flooded to the forefront. She had questions and there would be no delicate dancing around, such as what she had to do with others. This was her father, and she could be as blunt as she needed to be. Whether or not she’d get her answers, was a very different matter.

He sat down at the table with his own cake and drink. “I am so very glad to see you, my heart.”

A small tendril of guilt grew thorns and stabbed its way through Kayo’s mind. She’d not made nearly enough time for her father since - since the Zero-X. “I’m happy to see you as well.” She reached over and took his hand, it was rougher than she remembered and the once salt and pepper hair was now fully silver. Oh, she’d lost so much time with him and not all of that could be laid at that man’s feet.

“Then eat. I rose before the birds to make that for you.” A gentle grin softened the words.

At that moment, she wasn’t sure if she could get the cake past the lump in her throat. But she nodded, squeezed his hand, took a swallow of the tea, and set to the cake with a will. It was better than she remembered: airy layers, slightly sweet, and colored like the sunrise. She’d missed this. There was little conversation, mostly Kayo listening to her father talk about the park and some of the silliness that the tourists got up to.

She laid her fork on the plate; the cake had helped to settle her nerves. “Father - I need to ask you a question."

“Of course Tanusha, if I can answer it, I will.”

Tanusha, almost no one called her that anymore. It made her feel warm and protected, which gave her the last bit of courage she needed. “You know that - Jeff,” she couldn’t help the derision that dripped from the name, "has come back. I need to know why we stayed. I knew at the time something was wrong. Especially with the way he treated Scott. Please, Father, tell me why we stayed?”

He sighed, “Because there was no other choice.” He rose, picked up the dishes, and headed to the sink.

The simplicity of that answer stunned her for a moment, then she went after him. “No other choice? That makes no sense!” She stood next to him so she could watch his face. “You left the Island many times, I was in school for much of that, we could have gotten away.” That would have meant losing her brothers, which would have broken her heart - “Was it the others? Is that why we stayed?” She needed to understand.

He turned from the sink and cupped one side of her face. “My beloved child.” He kissed her forehead. “We stayed because your father was a weak and terrified man. One that discovered far too late the cost of his salvation."

She searched his face; his eyes, always kind, were now sad and hurt. More wrinkles than she thought should be there as well. He seemed to gain years just standing in front of her. “Father?”

His thumb traced over her cheek. “Please, Tanusha, please, let this old man keep his shames to himself? I ask nothing else from you but that.”

A piercing squawk shattered what thoughts she had gathered. Her father cursed softly as the squawk sounded again. He pulled a slim radio phone out of his pocket. She hadn’t even noticed it. “Kyrano.” The old and sad man vanished before her eyes. Once again her father stood in front of her, his face in a thunderous scowl. “Which gate?” He moved through the kitchen and headed for the door. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Keep them damp and see if we can find out where they were taken from. Out.”

“Father?” She hated how tentative her voice sounded. But everything was spinning around her and she had no clue what was going to land where.

The face that turned her way was once again sorrowful. Kind, but sorrowful. “Oh, my dear one.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I am needed. Some plant poachers were caught at the main gate. I need to see if the plants can be saved and find out where they were taken from.”

Duty over self, Kayo knew that one all too well. She had learned it at this man’s knee. “Of course.”

“Will - “ he took a deep breath, “will you still be here when I return?”

She may have hated how her voice sounded, but his was afraid and it hurt her heart to hear it. She had to fix that. “Of course, I will be. I’ve missed you so much.”

He crossed back and kissed her gently on the brow once again. “Thank you, my blessing. I will return as quickly as I can. The left room is yours.”  He vanished through the door.

She heard the ancient truck growl to life, even with the new fuels, an internal combustion engine sounded like nothing else. Habits of a lifetime had her rinsing the dishes and setting them to dry before she went down to get her bag. The room on the left was as cheerful as the rest of the house. Pots of orchids lined the windows, giving the air a delicate perfume. The bed was raised in the old style, not that she minded in the slightest, it was covered in the lightest of linen sheets. Her small amount of clothes and toiletries barely made a ripple in the flow of the room.

But now she was at a loss. She had books she could read, she could nap, and she could even wander the garden that surrounded the house, but - she was still uncertain. “Get a hold of yourself Tanusha!” she said out loud. “You have a procedure, follow it.” She got out the tiny sensors and went about setting them. Yes, this was her father’s house. Yes, they were inside a protected national park and a global treasure. But being careful, especially over these last years, had become ingrained. It gave her a measure of comfort as she did so.

She paused outside the other bedroom. It was his, but she would be remiss if she didn’t set sensors in there as well. Feeling very much like an eight-year-old entering a forbidden space, she slid the door open. It was a great deal like the one he’d given her, yet at the same time, different. It was the same warm brown as the rest of the house, but there were no pots of flowers lining the windows, it was plain, almost austere. This was where he came to rest and nothing else. There were no personal touches of any kind, except for the small table on the north wall. In the middle of the table, in a frame of pale wood was a picture of her mother. Surrounding it were bowls of fruit. In front of the picture was a joss bowl with a thin coating of ash. She ran a finger over the frame of the photo. There should have been flowers, but that wouldn’t have been right for her mother or her culture.

She stood looking at the image long enough for the shadows to move across the floor. She could barely remember her mother: Lakshmi. She’d been told many times that she was a near twin of her mother. She didn’t believe that. The Lakshmi in the photo had a sublime beauty, something Kayo could see only distant hints of in the mirror. The only trait she was sure she shared with her mother were the color of her eyes; they were the same golden green. She gave herself a small shake, and touched the frame. "I love you, Mama," then she slipped from the room.

-o-o-o-o-

The fire of sunset had long since faded by the time Kyrano returned, tired but satisfied. Kayo had explored the house enough to find everything she needed to make kolo mee for dinner. She did wonder if her father had meant to make it for her, since it was a childhood favorite and one she’d not had in far too long. So he was greeted by the warm smell of freshly fried onions. “Daughter?” “Father!” She wiped her hands and greeted him with a hug. “I thought you’d like dinner when you got back.”

The hug she got in return was tight and lingering. “Daughter, you didn’t need to do this.”

She squeezed him and stepped back. “No, I didn’t need to, I wanted to.” She ran a critical gaze over him. “You need to change. There are no ragamuffins at my table.”

Kyrano laughed since that was what he had told her any number of times while she was growing up. “Yes, my blessing, at once my blessing.” Kayo swatted at him with a grin. He flowed out of the way with ease, more laughter, and headed to his room. She turned back to making the meal. By the time he’d returned a bowl of kolo mee was waiting for him. Along with a dish of sambal oelek at his place. That got an eyebrow sent her way. “Surely you haven’t lost your taste for spice.”

“Hardly,” she said, spooning a less vibrantly colored sauce on her noodles. “I still won’t eat that instant death.”

He chuckled, tasted the noodles, then added several spoonfuls of the fiery sauce to his.

“Hmph. I’m surprised you still have a sense of taste.” She started on her own meal.

“It’s a preservative, daughter. How else do you think I’ve lived as long as I have?”

She couldn’t keep the grin inside but she held on until he had a mouth of noodles. “Stubbornness, pure stubbornness.”

He choked from laughing.

Dinner finished, they moved to the sitting lounge with tea. Tanusha was dreading this again, but she had to know. “Father, I must ask, why do you call yourself weak? You are the strongest person I know.”

He bowed his head. “Daughter, please -” “No! I am not a little girl hiding behind your knees anymore. I need to know why. Why did we stay? Why did you even go to work for that man in the first place?" She set her cup aside and grasped his hand. “Please, father. I can’t protect them if I don’t know why. I can’t give that man a single weapon to use against me or my brothers.

He wouldn’t meet her gaze, but he gave a great sigh. “I have feared this day for a very long time.” He swallowed. “I will tell you, Tanusha. I also forgive you if you leave this house hating me and don’t ever wish to speak to me again.” He pulled his hand free from hers.

She sat back, stunned. “I can’t imagine anything you could say or have done that could make me hate you.”

“I pray that it stays that way, but if it does not,” he focused on the far distance, “know that I love you, no matter what you decide."

She was frightened now. “Father?” He sighed again. “It starts with your mother and her parents. I was not their choice for Lakshmi. But your mother was stubborn and for reasons only known to her, she chose me to be her husband.” His smile was small and sad. “I was, and am, grateful beyond words that she did that. Your mother was smart, beautiful, kind, and my joy of being her husband is only surpassed by having you as my daughter.” Tanusha blinked, this was far more naked than she’d ever seen her father.

“I had a good job as head of security of the energy plant outside of Bintulu. I’d been working there since I left school. We were happy.” He closed his eyes. “Then the war happened.”

Tanusha froze, her father never talked about the war. “Lakshmi’s family ordered her to come to them and to bring you with her. I could not leave my job,” he sighed, “nor was I welcome in their ‘safe haven’.”

Tanusha’s contact with her mother’s family had been sparse, at best. But until this moment, she hadn’t realized how much contempt they held for her father. “Your mother thanked them and told them no, she would not leave me. Which turned out to be wiser than anyone knew.” The gaze he turned to her was dark. “Their ‘safe haven’ was Ahmedabad.” She closed her eyes at that. The death toll in that city had been horrific. So many people had crowded into it under the mistaken impression that since it was a cultural and historical jewel, it would be spared. They were wrong. “The spirits only know how your grandparents survived that. But they did, as did two of your aunts, an uncle, and several cousins. After that and the war itself, we didn’t speak with her family.” He shook his head. “Maybe if we had,” he looked down and shook his head, "I have gone over for years what I might have done differently without finding an answer.”

She sat there with her stomach in knots. She didn’t even try to hide her fear and confusion, not from her father. He knew her tells far too well and it would serve no purpose. “I don’t understand.”

“I will try to explain, the years just after the war were an unsettled time. There was still much anger about the Conflict and its horrors. I had only just started working for Mr. Tracy -” “Don’t call him that! He doesn’t deserve your respect.” She nearly bounced out of her seat with her fury.

The look he gave her blunted her rage only a little. “I have nothing else to call him, but he lost my respect long ago, Tanusha. If I may?”

“We’ve been calling him either ‘that man’ or UnNamed.” She sat back with a huff.

“You may, daughter, but I cannot.” He took a swallow of his tea. “I had just started working for Mr. Tracy, mostly to oversee security concerns. It was a good job, with higher pay than either one of us had had before.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I should have been looking over my own security as well.” He looked to the middle distance and from there, the past. “You were ill. One of those fevers that small children get. But Lakshmi was worried when it hadn’t gone down after a day. We left Kawasan and headed to Bintulu Hospital." He got up to pace. "It should have been a simple trip! The roads were in good shape!" "Father." She wanted to soothe him, but had no idea how to.

He shook his head. "No, I need to say the words." He took a deep breath. "You were fussing. Your mother was trying to comfort you. I - I only took my eyes off the road for a moment. It should have been safe, there was no other traffic." He bowed his head. The next thing I know, I'm in hospital with neither you or your mother nearby." He sat back down with a humorless chuckle. "I caused a great deal of upset by getting out of my bed in an effort to find you both." He rubbed at his left shoulder. "The only thing anyone is sure of, is that I was burned in an effort to protect you."

She held her teacup in a tight grip. She’d grown up seeing the burn scars that had covered her father’s back. But until this moment she hadn’t known how he’d gotten them.

"I still do not know or remember what happened. Spirits know I have tried everything I could think of. A single car accident they called it. Not enough of our vehicle to see if we'd encountered someone or something else." He reached for his tea. “When I regained consciousness for the second time in hospital, the first words I spoke were to ask where you

and your mother was. Lakshmi was dead and you were in the care of family. I assumed it was Belah, but I was wrong. Your uncle had come from India to claim you. I still thank the spirits that the government would not let him leave the country with you, or I would have never seen you again. Your mother’s family claimed you as theirs. They said you would be better off with them. I would be spending weeks, if not months in the hospital. When that did not sway people.” He bowed his head. “They claimed that I had caused the crash intentionally because I was seeing another woman and wished to be free from your mother. Belah fought to keep you - "

She couldn’t help the scoffing sound at that.

He gave her a look. “Belah was not yet the man he is now.” He turned back to his tea. “I have wondered sometimes if the efforts he went to and the contacts he made in fighting your grandparents started him on the path he is now on.”

She froze at that. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that the Hood could have been other than what he now was. Nor could she fathom the idea that she might be part of the reason for the acts he had done.

Her father continued on, unaware of the landmine he had set off. “I still do not know how Mr. Tracy found out about things, other than I was in the hospital. I didn’t even know that for sure until he came in just after Belah left.” He swallowed. “Your grandparents had tied things up with so many lawyers and strings we couldn’t even think where to start. I hadn’t seen you in weeks and was terrified that I would never see you again. Suddenly, Mr. Tracy was at the foot of the bed, asking how he could help.” He closed his eyes. “I was weak and frightened with the idea of losing you along with the loss of your mother - he was kind and wanted to help, so I told him everything.” Tanusha’s shock melted before the fury at that man taking advantage of a wounded man, deep in grief for his wife, and distraught with the idea of his daughter being taken away from him. A snarl crossed her face. “I will gut him like a fish and leave him to die in the sun.”

“blessing, you will do no such thing!” The rebuke was sharp. “I have given up too much to let you throw your life away in revenge. On anyone.”

She flinched and bowed her head. “Yes, father.” She was deeply ashamed. Her father had surrendered everything to keep her safe and with him. She was smarter than that, but hearing yet one more unscrupulous action from that man against the people she loved - was hard. She needed to protect those she considered hers just as much as her father.

He reached over and took her hand. “My blessing, I know. Trust me, I know these feelings. I have had them many times but I had too many depending on me for me to act on them. Having them is perfectly normal, acting on them is not.”

She nodded and swallowed. It then struck her, how many times had her father swallowed his words? Pulled back on his need to protect? “I’m sorry, father.” She brought her head up. “I will not do that, but I will wish for it.”

Making his way to the side of the bed, he reached for the switch for the reading light. It was a bright focused light and caused a hiss of pain to escape the patient. He angled the light further onto them so he could get a clear look at the damage. Virgil jerked his head stiffly away from the light, but not before Jeff caught sight of the tell tale wet tracks down his cheeks, traitorously reflecting back the light.

“Are you crying?” It was a flat accusation, without any emotion attached. 

Eyes squeezed tighter for a fraction of a second while he battled to get the pain under control.

“Really? I expected better from you. You need to be stronger than this.” He turned his back on him, and distractedly poked at some of the medical paraphernalia laid out on a nearby trolly. 

“What good will crying do?”  

A ragged breath was drawn in, not nearly as quietly as Virgil had been aiming for. 

The tweezers that had been idly turned over in Jeff’s hands, got tossed with a little more force than necessary onto the tray. 

“Really? Pull yourself together Virgil,” 

Virgil didn't trust himself enough to reply in a way that wouldn't further aggravate the man, so stayed silent, willing the teardrop currently teetering on the edge of his lashes, to stay put. It didn't, trailing a line of damming moisture through the remaining grime on his face.