Chapter 4: Gliding Under the Surface

Gordon slept in his sub for the rest of the week. Each night seemed to come easier, yet after that first night the nightmares had returned. He was still able to work on his sub during the day, even with his father and Virgil breathing down his neck. The flashes of gray wall would still pop up when he found himself in the airlock, or under the sub, but he would just shake it away and keep on going—he, thankfully, had not had another blackout.

After the first seven days—days spent doing nothing but memorizing schematics, answering questions, and proving their knowledge, they finally took to the skies. The second week they concentrated on Thunderbird 2. It was Virgil's time to shine. They were all in the cockpit of Two—Virgil in the pilot's seat, Gordon in the co-pilot's seat, Alan behind Virgil, and Scott behind Gordon. This wasn't the first time Virgil had taken his bird up into the sky, but this was the first time the other's had experienced it.

Gordon was sitting in his chair, his hands clamped on the seat he sat on trying to hide the nervousness they betrayed. He had never been nervous like this before, and it annoyed him every moment he couldn't stop the shaking. He was watching Virgil though—their father had announced that he would be the first to pilot the big bird the next day, and Gordon saw this as the prime opportunity to prove that he was fit and ready for action, even if his mind was reeling at the idea of controlling such a large machine.

"How is this thing going to take off? Aren't we going a little slow?" Gordon was leaning forward and watched as the palm trees fell backwards to widen the path.

"With the size of this baby, it would take an air strip larger than the island itself to take off using the traditional method. We had to find a way to get her up to speed with as little length as possible." Virgil smiled as he glanced over at Gordon. The behemoth came to a stop as Virgil reached above him and flipped some more switches. "You'll stop right at this spot, three-hundred feet from the hanger. If you look in front there are some hidden markers to help you judge the distance."

"Okay, I'm curious." Scott was smiling as well, they were all smiling, excited. "How are we going to get the speed if we're standing still?"

"Once you are stopped, flip switches C1 through C5." Virgil finished flipping the switches and there was a jerk as the nose of Thunderbird 2 started to rise. "We'll use the thrusters to launch Two into the air."

"Launch?" Scott's voice cracked a little in shock. "The amount of force needed to launch something this size—"

"Don't worry, we did all the calculations and I've already tested her several times." Virgil glanced back at the eldest. "I would recommend you sit firmly in your seat, though, or you'll be getting to know the floor quite well."

Gordon's grin broadened as he leaned back in his seat—his hands still clenched tightly to the seat below him. "Hit her, Virgil. Show us what she's got."

"F.A.B." Virgil reached over and pushed the throttle all the way.

The ship rumbled beneath them and then shot forward pinning them to their seats.

"Wooohoo!" Gordon couldn't have been happier than he was at that moment. The rush of the plane, his brothers around him. It was right where he had fought for the past year to be. Yet, there was an image in the back of his head, an image of him on the deck of the hydrofoil as it took off, slowly speeding up and Gordon whooping with glee. He shook his head, he did not want to think of that. It wasn't the accident, well before it, but he knew if he thought about it too much it would put doubt in his mind. Doubt and the knowledge that it would only take one small mistake to make this bird go tumbling into the sea as well.

Virgil leveled off the plane and put her into a cruising altitude. "Settle down Gordon." Virgil laughed, his smile reaching his eyes.

"Do you realize how fast we're going? In this huge ass thing!" Gordon blinked the memory away and pointed to the gages on the dash.

"I know!" Alan was bouncing in his seat as well, leaning over Virgil's shoulder looking at the controls. "Not that I didn't believe Brains but to see it—"

"I know right!" Gordon was on his feet too, leaning over Virgil as well, still pointing at the gauges. "Look at how steady she is." Alan's excitement was helping him forget, letting him get lost in the moment and he clung to it with all he had.

"Do you two mind?" Virgil pushed them both away. "You need to be paying attention. Tomorrow you both will be flying her." Virgil turned the wheel, banking to the right to take a few large laps around the island.

Gordon found himself on the pool deck once again, his tablet in hand as he went through the procedures for Thunderbird 2. He was tired, exhausted even. The small space of his sub wasn't keeping him up at night, but the persistent nightmares were. Even though he knew what to expect when he went to sleep, he still woke up in a cold sweat at least once a night, if not multiple times. He did what he could to counter the lack of sleep. Mostly coffee. Multiple cups.

When they had went up in Two earlier that day Gordon was running on five cups of coffee, black, and strong. Now, he was crashing and finding it hard to focus. The words on his tablet were blurring a little, and he knew he wasn't going to last long so he laid it down on his chest and leaned back in the chair, letting his eyes close for a moment.

"Gordon!"

Gordon jumped in his seat, his tablet falling off his chest and toppling onto the cement ground—though they too had been designed by Brains and it would take more than that to break one. He blinked several times, trying to get the image in front of him to focus. He had been sleeping hard, and woken much too quickly.

"Gordon, you okay?"

The person in front of him cleared up and Alan's blue gaze was looking down at him, a frown on his face, his eyebrows drawn together. Gordon rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and sat up.

"What's up?"

"You okay?" Alan was sitting on the edge of the chair, still watching him.

"Yeah, just tired." Gordon shook his head, trying to wake up a bit more. "Did you need something or just trying to bug me. Good job by the way if it's the latter."

"Well, if you're tired, I won't worry about it. I just thought, you know—getting revenge on John for the whole NASA thing?"

Gordon could't help but smile. "Sure. Did you have anything in mind?"

"Itching Powder in his body wash?"

"As funny as that would be, I don't want to do anything that would harm Dad's schedule. He didn't leave much flex time."

"True." Alan rocked back and pulled one leg up onto the lounger. "How about we lock him in his closet while he's sleeping? Remember when we did that to Virgil?" Alan laughed.

"No." Gordon's face was straight. His eyes cold.

"But it was so funny! Remember when he was yell—"

"I said, no, Alan." Gordon swung his legs off of the chair and leaned over picking up his tablet—not a scratch on it. "Being stuck, it's not fun."

"Oh." Alan hung his head. "Gordon, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"You're fine." Gordon shook his head and stood up. "I'm going to my room. I'll think about what we can do to John. Talk to you later." Gordon didn't look at Alan, just walked past him and back into the house.

He flopped down on his bed as soon as he could. He hadn't meant to snap at Alan like that, but the thought of waking up in a closet—even if it wasn't going to be him… no, he wouldn't do that to anyone ever again. Though he couldn't help a small smile at the memory of Virgil. He had woken up, hit his head, and banged on the door while he and Alan had sat just outside and laughed. They had left him, and Virgil stayed in that closet for almost six hours before their father found him.

Gordon sat up and blinked, wondering if Virgil ever had any issues with claustrophobia. He left his room and wandered next door to Virgil's. He wasn't there of course, it was too early to be heading to bed. Gordon made his way down to the lounge and found Virgil sitting on the edge of the roof, overlooking the pool below him and the low hanging sun in the distance.

"Hey." Gordon sat down next to him and swung his legs out over the pool, watching the sun's light dance on the water.

"Hey." Virgil had one of his sketch books in his hands busy at work on some artsy thing.

"Don't you have enough pictures of the ocean?"

"I'm not drawing the ocean."

"Looks like the ocean to me." Gordon leaned over a little to look at the book. There wasn't much on the page yet, he probably hadn't been out there for very long.

"Two o'clock, couple miles off." Virgil didn't look up from his drawing as he spoke.

Gordon did look up and into the direction indicated. There was nothing, just the gently rolling waves of the ocean. He had started to open his mouth, when something broke through the water. A large greyish black mass passed over the surface before going back under, and then a moment later it's huge tale flipped out and then disappeared as well. "Whales." Gordon exhaled his eyes wide.

"I saw them last night, but by the time I got back with my book they had disappeared."

"You think their breeding ground is nearby?"

"Couldn't say. You're the ocean expert." Virgil glanced quickly over at Gordon.

Gordon smiled a little too. "Yeah, guess I am. Breeding ground I'd say. We should keep a look out, might see some calves."

"So what brings you out here? Staring out at the ocean isn't really your thing."

"Hmm, maybe it should be." Gordon couldn't keep his eyes off of the gently rolling waves. "It is calming."

"No arguments there."

It was silent for a moment, only the sounds of nature and the scratching of pencil on paper. "Virgil?"

"Hm?"

"Have you ever had issues with claustrophobia?"

"I thought you were getting over it?" Virgil suddenly looked over at him, his brows drawn together.

"I am! I am!" Gordon raised his hands and smiled back at him. "I just had a random thought, or memory. Remember when Alan and I locked you in the closet?"

Virgil snorted a little as he turned his attention back to the ocean. "One of your more annoying pranks. And if I remember right, it was more your doing than Alan's—he was only six at the time."

"Yeah, yeah. Details." Gordon waved it off. He was looking down at this hands, thin scars still apparent on his left. "Weren't you scared though? Not being able to get out? Especially after… well, we did leave you in there for a long time."

"Five hours and forty minutes."

Gordon glanced over, but Virgil was still watching the ocean, an occasional flick of his pencil across the paper.

"I was annoyed, but I knew I wasn't in danger. Nothing was going to happen to me. Anyways, I had some extra paper and pencils in there so I just sat and doodled." Gordon watched as a small smile tugged Virgil's lips. "When Dad finally opened the door I told him to close it. I wasn't finished with my picture and I didn't want to leave until it was done."

Gordon couldn't help but let a small chuckle out. "Well, it could have ended up a lot worse, and, well—I guess I just wanted to apologize."

Virgil turned and looked at Gordon, a blank look on his face. "Don't worry about it."

"Still though."

"I said just drop it. Don't worry about it. Nothing happened, it all turned out okay."

"Yeah, but."

"Gordon. It's alright."

"Right." Gordon sighed. "Well, I guess I'll head back in."

"Aren't you going to watch the whales?"

"Maybe another night." Gordon had hoped that the apology would have helped him feel better, not feel so guilty about it, but instead it almost made him feel worse.

Gordon was the first in the hanger the next morning, his sixth cup of coffee in one hand, his tablet in the other. He had went to bed that night not feeling the best. The day had gone by fine, he had been happy and excited and enjoyed the flight in Two. But it had ended on a sour note that he just couldn't shake.

Now, he was to be the first of his three remaining brothers to pilot Thunderbird 2—John was somehow being excused from this flight practice. Gordon had tried to fall asleep, but had once gain woken to the nightmares and stayed up the rest of the night trying to memorize the sequence for the big green machine. He shook his head again and took a sip of his coffee as he scrolled back to the beginning to try and read through it again.

"Gordon, wait up."

Gordon turned around to find Scott coming off of the elevator and walking quickly toward him.

"Hey, I want to talk to you."

Gordon couldn't help but roll his eyes. Scott had been fairly good since their arrival on the island. He did of course constantly ask if Gordon was alright, tried to be protective over him, but Virgil had done as he promised and was acting as a buffer, keeping Scott from being too much of a mother hen.

"Can't it wait? I'm trying to get these procedures memorized." Gordon waved the tablet at him.

"It will only take a second, promise." Scott had reached him and put an arm around his shoulder, looking down at him. "Let's go over here so we aren't interrupted." He led Gordon to the back of one of the standby modules off to the side of Thunderbird 2.

"What's up?"

Scott took hold of one of Gordon's shoulders and pushed him lightly up against the green container. "Why did you do it?"

"Do what?" Gordon was wide eyed. Scott was close enough that he could smell the bacon he had had for breakfast on his breath.

"Make Alan cry."

"What? I didn't—"

"You two were talking by the pool and you said something and left. I was in the kitchen. Alan stayed out on the deck. He didn't move for the longest time so I went out to see what was up. He was, well, not crying, but he was majorly upset."

"I didn't mean—"

"Gordon. You know Alan just as well, if not better, than the rest of us. He looks up to all of us and takes any kind of disapproval to heart."

"Scott, I just turned down a prank idea."

"Look, it's been tough on him since you've been back."

"What do you mean?" Gordon slapped away Scott's arm making the older Tracy take a step back.

"The first day he was fine, he even said that you seemed like your old self. After that though, he's been walking on eggshells around you. You do realize that was the first time he's gotten your attention since then? He's been afraid to talk to you. You, of all people. When you were kids we couldn't separate you, now—" Scott took a few more steps away and shook his head, rubbing his hand over his face.

"Scott, I didn't mean—" Gordon's mind was in overdrive. What had he said? He hadn't thought he had said anything bad. He had even told him he'd try to think of an idea that night—not that he had, but he said he would try.

"I know you didn't, but you have to be more careful."

Gordon was getting frustrated and it was making it hard to think. Scott wasn't giving him the answers his mind demanded, yet he wasn't going to flat out ask what Alan was upset over, there shouldn't be anything to be upset over in the first place. Yet he apparently was, and that bothered Gordon. He was losing control and needed to change the topic, get it away from him and on Scott instead. "What, like you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not the only one that's made Alan cry in the past year."

"Gordon—"

"No, Scott." Gordon lowered his voice as he heard the elevator ding and the voices of his brothers fill the hanger. "The second I got back from the undersea base Alan was calling me and he was crying. I had to fly out to Kansas to see what was the matter." Gordon stepped forward and pushed Scott a little, looking up at the taller man. "You had been nothing but a grumbling Gus from the moment you had gotten home. Anytime Alan tried to talk to you, you turned him down. Even Dad had mentioned how put offish you were when you had first gotten back."

"I was dealing with some issues." Scott looked away from Gordon.

"And I'm not?" That had been the wrong thing to say. He knew it the second it had left his mouth. "Look, I didn't mean to upset him. I'll apologize to him when we're done."

Gordon tried to walk away, he needed to get out of this situation now, but Scott had him by the shoulders again, and pushed him harder against the module. "Gordon, are you fit to fly?"

Gordon stared at Scott wide eyed. Had he figured something out? Did he know he was running on fumes and caffeine? No, there was no way he would know, no way he would understand what was going through Gordon's mind. "I'm as fit as you are." Gordon pushed Scott away and made his way to the cockpit of Thunderbird 2 where he knew Virgil and Alan were now waiting.

Gordon had done it, it felt like his heart was about to pop out of his chest by the time he landed and he hadn't flown perfectly, but he had done it. He had flown Thunderbird 2. The feel of that monster under his control was nothing he had felt before. It didn't even compare to the hydrofoil as it had taken off at full speed. Though he did have to shake visions from his head a couple of times as those thoughts crossed his mind. He still wanted to switch a couple of the steps on take off, but Virgil was there to help him—caught him and corrected him even. He even apologized to Alan, who smiled and told him it was alright. Gordon knew better though, they had all protected Alan as he grew up, and partially because of that, he still needed some protection now—mainly from themselves it seemed. He would have to try and figure out something to do to John to get Alan's full trust back again.

His other brothers all had turns, and they all forgot a step here or there as well, none of them were perfect, which made Gordon feel a little better. He was still on edge—whether from the stress, the coffee, or both he didn't know. He went straight to his room to try and calm down, but he was teed up and just paced. Unable to relax he took his tablet back down to Four and worked on his own procedures. One and a half more weeks and he'd be taking Four for its first test.

Gordon sat in the small cockpit, looking out the windows at the rocky wall of the hanger beyond the module and tried to imagine water all around him. It wasn't hard, and it didn't bother him. He acted as if he were starting her up, listing the steps in order and pretending to flip the switches as he did. He went over the steps again and again and again. He wouldn't be caught off guard.

He woke to some knocking and jumped at Virgil's frown looking at him through the windows of the sub. Gordon rubbed his face and then leaned back and crawled from the cockpit. Virgil was waiting for him by the rear air lock.

"Time for bed."

"What time is it?"

"Nine o'clock."

"Little early isn't it?"

"Dad wants us all to hit the hay early, said he was really going to put us through the paces tomorrow."

"We're just flying Two some more right?"

"Yeah, and a few small scenarios." Virgil shrugged as he stepped out of the way to give Gordon room to get out. "Plus, you could use some extra sleep. Been looking a little ragged."

"I'm fine." Gordon yawned and stretched his arms up into the air. "Been taking naps anyways."

"So I've noticed. Sleeping okay otherwise?"

Gordon shrugged, he didn't want to admit to anything, but knew if he lied too much he would slip eventually so a little truth wouldn't hurt. "Sometimes I don't sleep well. I get to worrying about what we'll be doing the next day. Thinking about it, unable to stop."

"Now, that I can believe." Virgil patted Gordon's shoulder and squeezed it as they made their way across the hanger to the elevator. "You did good today. I was hesitant to believe that you were okay, but maybe you are."

"You got to have more faith in me!" Gordon smiled at his brother and slapped him on the back.

"Gordon." Virgil stopped Gordon from getting onto the elevator. "I'm still worried about you."

Gordon opened his mouth to argue but stopped. "I know." Gordon lowered his gaze, but a small smile remained on his lips. "I'm not at one-hundred precent. But I'll be okay. I've survived this far, I'll keep going."

"Don't be afraid to ask for help. That's what I'm here for. It's what we're all here for."

"I know." Gordon avoided Virgil and ducked into the elevator, holding it open for his brother. "Come on, bed time, right?"

"Right."

They had each flown Two several times, even taking her to her limits and back. The previous day had been spent performing a mock rescue with all of the brothers aboard Two. Their father had arranged for an accident out in the middle of the Australian outback. The brothers had to rescue some dummies and recover the vehicles. Then that morning they had another rescue, this one real. Their father had arranged for them to help with a forest fire in California. They had spent ten hours helping the fire fighters to control, put out sections of burning forest, and trying their best to keep locals safe. It was their first look at the type of things they would be doing every day once the organization was up and running.

"Gordon?"

Gordon was in Four, still partially in his gear—having shed the bulkier portions of it in the hanger, but still had black soot in his hair and covering his face. Their father had ordered them to the showers when they had gotten back but Gordon still had not gotten the guts to undress around his brothers—even swimming he would wear a rash guard, the scars on his back a flashing neon sign to what he was trying not to think too much about.

"Gordon, you in here?"

"Yeah, Alan. In the cargo hold." Gordon wasn't doing anything with his bird. He was just sitting there looking over the specs of Two yet again. They would be going out on another mock rescue tomorrow and then the day after would be their first day in One.

Alan peeked though the airlock, his hair wet and his skin shiny. "Aren't you going to take a shower?"

"Yeah, I will here in a bit." Gordon glanced up and smiled at his brother.

"You busy?" Alan was still just peeking into the ship, chewing on his lower lip.

"No, come on in, sit down." Gordon laid down the tablet and patted the floor next to him.

Alan smiled a little, but sat down across from him instead. "I just spent an hour getting that soot off, I don't want to touch any more."

Gordon laughed as he rubbed at his face. "Yeah, but I imagine this won't be our last time getting dirty like this."

"No, probably not. Hopefully we'll have more comfortable outfits though. I don't get how those fire fighters wear those all the time."

"Because it keeps them safe."

"Yeah, but they are not cool at all." Alan plucked at the t-shirt he had on and then pulled his knees up to his chest.

"What's on your mind?"

"I can't just sit here?"

"Sure, but you rarely just sit there." Gordon smirked. "Thought of any good ideas to get John back? I've been coming up blank myself."

"Well, I did have one idea."

"Hm? Looks like it might be a good one. Spill." Gordon smiled wider at his brother.

"Well, I was thinking about what you said before, about not wanting to delay Dad's timeline any. So that nixed any kind of itching powder or other mild allergen."

"Right, and I am quite impressed that you're talking like you have a stock of various possible allergens."

"You didn't think I'd willing come to a secluded island with all of my brothers without some stock of possible pranking materials?"

"Alan, I couldn't be more proud of you than at this moment." Gordon rolled over onto his knees and reached forward to ruffle Alan's hair.

"Hey, I just took a shower!" Alan tried to scramble away but Gordon caught his ankle and pulled him back towards him.

"Well, you're just going to have to take another one." Gordon pulled his brother into a tight hug, rubbing his face on Alan's to try and get as much soot on him as he could.

"Alright, already!" Alan frowned as Gordon finally let go and leaned back against the wall of the cargo hold, grunting as he did. "You okay?"

"Back is a little sore." Gordon waved it off. "I'll take some pain killers and I'll be fine. Don't worry. Now, back to your revenge plot."

"Oh, right. Well, I was looking through my stash and found the perfect thing. Something that will make us laugh, but also something that will stay with him for most of the day."

"I'm listening." Gordon couldn't help but lean forward, his back twitching in protest, but had his full attention on Alan. He was still a big brother, and had to make sure he didn't disappoint his little brother again.

It was two days later. Gordon stood between Alan and Virgil, John on Virgil's other side. They were facing Scott and their father, standing in the hanger at the base of Thunderbird 1. Scott was trying to explain to them the mechanics as well as the operating instructions for his bird, but was struggling to keep his smile concealed. He would look down at the floor or up at his bird and clear his throat and then he would look back at his brothers, a serious look on his face. Alan, Gordon, Virgil, and then John. He couldn't keep a straight face looking at John, the smile would break out and he would be looking away again.

Gordon was starting to wonder just how long this was going to take, but at the same time he was enjoying it completely. Their father wasn't doing any better. He had his left arm across his chest, his right hand over his mouth trying to cover up the smile underneath. He looked to his right at Alan who was beaming and rocking back and forth on his heels, occasionally glancing over in John's direction. Virgil, on his left, had his arms crossed. He was looking between John on his other side, Gordon and Alan, and Scott. Prepared to intercede should something happen.

Gordon leaned forward a little and looked down at John. He was taking everything in stride like he always did. Gordon was sure he knew Alan would target him, knew he was in on it as well. Probably wasn't at all surprised when he opened his book and a glitter bomb exploded in his face. He had sighed after it had happened—Gordon and Alan had hid nearby to watch. John was smart enough to know that if he did not react to it, it would only promise more pranks in the future so he stood up threw his book on the floor and yelled for the two youngest. It was then Gordon and Alan ran off laughing their heads off. So now, John stood next to his brothers, his face and hair sparkling under the lights of the hanger and not looking particularly happy about it.

Scott had tried for the third time to continue his lecture but finally sighed and leaned his head in a hand. "I'm sorry. John, are you sure you couldn't get that stuff off?"

"I scrubbed my face raw, Scott. Believe it or not, I did get most of it off."

Gordon couldn't stop a burst of giggles from erupting.

"Gordon." Their father cleared his throat and was trying to frown at them. "Is there a trick for getting the glitter off?"

"Not—not that I—" Gordon couldn't even complete the sentence. He had done this originally for Alan, but realized quickly that he had needed it as well.

"Alright, let's take a quick break. Gordon, Alan, help your brother clean up." Their father was smiling openly now, a chuckle under his breath. "We'll come back in a half an hour and get started."

"Yes, sir." The brother's chorused amid the laughter.

"Alright you two." John was behind them, his hands on their shoulders.

Gordon was laughing but could feel John lean down so that his head was next to his own.

"It's good to see you smile, Gordon."

Gordon looked over and John was smiling at him, though he didn't quite know what he had meant by the comment. He had smiled plenty of times. But now he was happy and laughing, and it felt good.

They were able to get most of the glitter off of John's face, but luckily not out of his hair—without pulling it out at least. They had reconvened and were able to get through the lecture with mostly straight faces before Gordon and Alan joined Scott in One. Gordon had to admit he was a bit more nervous than he had been in Two. Yes, Two had launched itself into the air, and had achieved a maximum of mach 6 at one point—not quite five-thousand miles per hour. That had caused Gordon some issues. Issues he had been able to ignore for the most part. Thunderbird One however could make it up to mach 20. Over three times faster than the tortoise. Gordon hoped Scott wouldn't push her that hard, he had no reason to, but that worry still nagged at him as they strapped down in the jump seats.

"This is going to be so awesome!" Alan was bouncing in his seat, kicking his legs straight out above him—they were of course laying on their backs while Scott's chair sat above them.

"I'm glad you're excited." Scott looked down at them as the rocket jerked a little and started its trek to the launch pad. "You okay Gordon?"

"Yeah." Gordon had to swallow a little lump in his throat. The launch shouldn't be an issue. As far as speed it would be about the same as Two, but One was a little bit smaller—the bulkhead only a few feet above him, and Alan's shoulder right next to him. "Just a little nervous."

"Don't worry, I've been testing her as much as possible once Dad decided it was safe enough."

"Yeah, no. I'm not worried about that." Gordon forced a smile on his lips when he noticed that Alan had calmed down a little. "I just haven't had the experience with extreme g-force like you two."

Alan's frown disappeared and a smile replaced it. "Oh are you in for the thrill of your life! If you thought Two was fun, this is going to be even better!"

"I bet!" Gordon took hold of Alan's energy. It was best to concentrate on that than to worry about that other stuff. "This is going to make Four feel like a rowboat."

"No kidding!" Alan laughed and punched Gordon in the arm. "I can't wait till we take Three out, she's even faster!"

"Faster?" Gordon cleared his throat.

"I doubt Dad will let us open her up right away, but I am looking forward to it myself. Never been in space."

"Yeah, I am super excited!"

"Yeah, me too." Gordon wasn't, but that wasn't something he needed to worry about right now.

The rocket jerked to a stop as sunlight filtered in through the one set of windows up near Scott. He recited off the final points of the checklist, flipping switches near his head as the engines below them started to rumble.

Gordon had been wrong. Quite wrong. One took off significantly faster than Two had. He had held onto his shoulder restraints and made some sort of noise as they took off. He wasn't sure what kind of noise it was, he had clamped his teeth together and was only partially aware of Alan staring at him.

"You okay, back there?" Scott's chair had swung around so that they were now behind him, rather than under them.

It took a moment for Gordon to unlock his jaw and answer. "Yeah, I'm good."

"You sure? Look a little pale there." Alan had his hand on Gordon's leg.

"Yeah, just wasn't quite expecting that. What a rush!" He forced a smile onto his face and could see Alan relax a little.

"Alright, we'll start off a little slow and speed it up. I promise not to do anything too crazy." Gordon could hear the laughter in Scott's voice.

"Yeah, simple is good. Remember, I am a bit out of my element here." Gordon kept the smile on his face and the remark was met with some laughter.

"Literally." Alan continued to laugh as he stretched to look out of the window at the ocean passing below them. "How fast are we going now, Scott?"

"Just a little over mach four." Scott was looking forward, his eyes constantly on the controls.

"Aw, come on, she can go much faster than that!"

"Do you think you can handle it?" Scott glanced back at them a smile on his face.

"You do realize who you are talking to right?" Alan was beaming as he turned to Gordon.

"Yeah, I think I'm good." Gordon's smile felt frozen on his face, but he didn't want to ruin the fun for Alan.

"Alright, hold on!"

Gordon could feel the pressure as Alan whooped next to him. At first it wasn't too bad. He was doing good, it was fast, he was a little freaked out, but he concentrated on breathing, he just needed to make sure to breath in and out.

He had been floating for some time now. His voice was gone, his throat raw. His hand burned from banging on the bulkhead, the skin torn but not bleeding too much. He wasn't even sure anyone else had survived, or if they had, were even there anymore. It would have taken search and rescue almost two hours to reach them. They would have been there by now. If anyone else had survived they were long gone, and who knew when they would come back for the bodies. By the time they did, he would be counted among them, he was sure. He closed his eyes, and breathed slowly, wishing that if he was destined to die, it would just happen.

That thought didn't last long though. He didn't want to die. Not here, not now. He wanted to see his family again. He promised Alan he would be there to see him graduate from college, to see him enter NASA. He was going to be there next time John went to space, next time Virgil did anything interesting. He would be there when Scott realized he needed the Air Force and stopped moping around and went back to do the thing he does best. He wanted to see his father again. To see that smile on his face when he told him he was proud of him. He wanted to work on that doodle, to make something useful—hey, maybe that was something interesting Virgil could do, help him with that.

Gordon let a smile play across his face. He wouldn't die here. He still had plenty of air, and they would come back eventually. They would come back, search for the bodies and find him, alive.

"Gordon!"

Gordon blinked, his breath catching in his throat.

"He's coming around." It was Alan's voice, shaky and worried. "Come on Gordon."

"Gordon?" Different voice, Scott's.

His vision was blurry, but everything around him was gray, but it wasn't the hydrofoil. Two figures were in front of him, light and dark. "What…"

"Sorry, Gordon." Scott sighed as he patted his leg.

Gordon reached up and could still feel the shoulder restraints on him. "I—I blacked out?"

"Yeah, took it a little too far." Scott was frowning, his brows furrowed.

"It was awesome though!" Alan was bouncing next to him, that wasn't making the headache any better.

"Here." Scott had taken his hand and dropped something in it, then put a bottle in the other. "Take them, it'll help."

"Where are we?" Gordon was starting to wake up a bit more, his vision clearing, the memory of his dream still fairly fresh.

"We're still in One." Scott waved his hand around them. "Hovering over the Baltic Sea."

"Why?"

"Because you passed out, and Alan almost did." Gordon could see the small sad smile on Scott's lips. "I got carried away and started going a bit too fast."

"I passed out before Alan? Aw, man, I'm not going to hear the end of that." Gordon took the excuse. It probably was the speed that had caused him to black out, but it had also been the pressure on his back that had forced him to relive that part of his memories. However, that memory had also reminded him of something. Something he was starting to forget. He would not give up. He was not the type to do that kind of thing. He would keep going on no matter what happened. That was the kind of guy he was.

"Are you okay, Gordon?"

Gordon blinked and looked up at Scott. "Yeah. I'm fine. Think I'm going to have to call it a day though. Pulled my back or something. Need to lay down and let it work itself out."

"Aw, jeez, Gordon. I didn't even think." Scott had his head in one hand. "I'm sorry. I—I was just excited to show her to you."

"No worries!" Gordon slapped the smile back on. "Nothing a few pain killers and a nap on the floor won't fix. This is just another hurdle that we both need to work on." Gordon looked over at Alan who was still sitting in his own seat, the shoulder restraints up.

"Yeah. If we can't handle the speed of this baby, we'll all be passed out when we ride in Three."

"Yeah, wouldn't want that." Gordon chuckled a little.

"Dad's going to yell at you though, isn't he?" Alan had lost the smile that was on his face as he turned to the eldest.

"Probably, but it is earned. I wasn't thinking and could have harmed both of you. I'm sorry."

"Live and learn." Alan nodded and scooted back in his seat pulling the shoulder restraints down. "Let's get home and get it over with."

They all three stood in the lounge before their father. Scott had told them not to come, had tried to order Gordon to bed, but neither of them had listened.

"I'm quite disappointed in you Scott."

"Yes, sir."

"It wasn't all his fault." Alan frowned as he crossed his arms. "I was egging him on, telling him to go faster."

"Alan, no." Scott held up a hand to stop the young Tracy and Alan humphed a little in reply. "We are going to be doing something very dangerous. If I allow myself to be 'egged on' by anyone, it could mean any number of lives, mine and yours included. I shouldn't have let my ego take over, I should have been paying attention to flying and going by the routine Dad had set up."

"Scott is correct." His father was looking at all of them. "We don't have the room for small mistakes. Even those kind cost lives. The very lives we are trying to save. You all need to be ever so conscious as to what you are doing and what those actions are going to effect. Your every move could mean the difference between life and death."

Gordon looked down at the floor. His father was right, he didn't have time to worry about his issues. He needed to concentrate on being prepared for what they were trying to do. He needed to get all the machines memorized, get used to One, fly her, and get Four into the water. Once he was able to ride in One at her faster speeds, Three may not be so bad—Gordon made a mental note to find out just how much speed was necessary to escape the Earth's gravity.

He spent the rest of the day like he said he would. On his back, on the floor, with his feet propped up on the bed reading over the schematics. He was still a little worried about Three. Escape velocity from the Earth was a staggering mach thirty-two and a half—twenty-five thousand miles per hour. They had only been at mach fifteen when Gordon had passed out. Not even half as fast. There was time though, they still had almost two weeks until they were due to head up to Five.

Gordon had made his decision as they stood there before their father. He would not be afraid of his memories, of the what ifs, of anything. He was going to concentrate on the here and now and do what he needed to do.

He was back in his sub that night, laying flat on the floor—his back still a bit achey. He had his tablet above him going over the flight procedures for One. Scott had asked him over dinner if he had wanted to delay his first flight by a day or something, to ride in her again and get used to her. Gordon had declined. He wasn't going to try and fly her at mach fifteen by no means—mach ten was going to be a stretch. He would fly her through, and even if he had to fly or ride in her multiple times a day he would be able to survive in her at her fastest. He only had two weeks, he would do it.

He let his arm fall down next to him with a sigh. It was getting late, he needed to get to bed. He sat up and looked around the small sub. He had started with the doors open and slowly closed them. He had no problem sitting in there anymore, but he knew he wasn't out of trouble yet. He was still avoiding the airlocks when he could. They still scared him, probably because of what happened the last time he had gotten caught in one, but he knew he had to keep pushing himself.

So he picked up his pillow and blanket opened the inner door of the main airlock and made himself a bed between the two doors before closing himself in. He stood there for a moment, his eyes closed, taking in measured breaths, and waited to see if it would be an issue. Moments passed and no images came to his mind. He took a deep breath and released it. It would be a quite night, he was sure.