Disclaimer: I do not own the Thunderbirds characters

Five Senses for Five Brothers

sight

There's no sound in space. It's just this massive area of absolute silence. The vacuum I currently reside in. Well, I can hear in here, in Thunderbird 5, it's a small pocket of noise in an infinity of nothing.

Talk about peace and quiet.

But you know, I guess not having the distraction of sound, it makes the view all that much more impressive.

I can see the expanse of ice sheets in the Arctic. The golden deserts of the Sahara. The spiky peaks of the Rockies stabbing the dense white clouds. The oceans, such a deep blue colour, they could almost be black. With one little glance out of my window, I can see all of this, and so much more.

It's just simply fantastic.

But that is only the beginning. From here I can watch the endless cycle of the sun chasing away the night time as it spreads it warm light across the earth's surface, almost like a gentle hand spreading out lovingly as if to say, 'hey I'm here, everything's better in this light'.

But there's even more to see. Raising my eyes a little, the blackness that spreads out in front of my eyes is filled with tiny diamonds of silver, twinkling stars piercing the night time sky in place constantly in space. Clustered together, they form almost cloud like bodies, circulating outwards, like ghostly fingers, a pale mist extends towards others, reaching for fellow celestial bodies.

I could spend all day looking out this window. Some days I do. It's a decent way to pass the time.

"Calling International Rescue…"

And I suppose answering distress calls can be too.

Here, I can't see what is happening. Only hear the voices of those people, begging for our help. They describe the situations for me, clearly enough, but I still can't see them. They are faceless strangers, but their fear always brings out a feeling sympathy and care, a desire to help them no matter what. I'm glad that I can feel that, otherwise I'm not sure I could justify telling my brothers to go help them. Maybe not being able to see the horrendous conditions that these people need rescued from makes it easier as well. I've often wondered if by not seeing, I'm lucky.

Or maybe not. My mind's eye goes into overdrive. It's like the first time I ever watched a horror film with Scott. It was a gory, blood-fest film that exploited anyone's nervous position by making as many jumpy moments as possible. I kept my eyes shut for most of the film, but I couldn't block out the sounds. And what I heard made what I imagined all the more terrifying. I had been unable to sleep for a week and it was only when Scott and I subjected Virgil to the horror that I realised that the film wasn't half as terrifying as I had imagined it to be.

Really I should have taken the lesson from that.

My brother's have a habit of not really telling the whole story and I can only imagine what they are often confronted with.

For example, Scott suggesting that Brains' new discovery of a gas, which made cutting through metal much quicker than more traditional methods, would be absolutely necessary to save a family trapped in the basement car park below a building that had collapsed. So? Well the gas had only been tested once before and had left them both passed out after only a few minutes of use. It did not bode well for the rescue.

I could just see it then…the two of them desperately trying to get to the trapped family, powering through the metal doors only to get to the final one and pass out while the basement began to crumble around them. Virgil falling first and Scott suddenly realising they were both in serious trouble before he found himself collapsing on the ground beside him.

It didn't happen like that, thankfully. But it didn't stop me imagining it, something that was more terrifying to me than if I'd been watching them on a screen.

Thankfully, the more rescues that we carried out, the easier it got. Scott was more confident in assessing the situation quickly. Virgil was much more in control of each piece of equipment and my minds eye lost its doom and gloom fixation and became a lot more reserved in its imagery.

I still get that little flutter of nerves at the start of every rescue though. For as much as they tell me, I still just want to see them safe and sound, see the rescues being completed successfully.

But up here I can't. All I can see is this glorious view, a view that is only experienced by a lucky few, a view that makes me feel so content in a way. It's nice to see everything coming together on one globe and working so well.

Well, I guess I can cope with worrying about rescues if I can look at this every day.