CHAPTER 4

The brothers were silent while the rocket undocked from the shuttle with a loud bump. John, cussing, went out to check the docking collar and found it in pieces. "Damn piece of crap rental," he said, bringing broken pieces of plastic and metal inside the shuttle. "I'm glad Dad is building us our own equipment. It'll be better quality than any of this stuff," John looked down at the pieces in his hand, then met Gordon's and Scott's eyes. "Sorry guys, it's just that having to send Virgil home really gets me down. And now this! We'll have to make repairs or Alan won't be able to dock when he comes back."

"I'll get the toolkit," said Scott, moving over to the supply cabinet. "And don't count Virgil out yet. He's got a strong will; he'll be back if he can."

"Trouble is, he's got a strong will but a weak stomach," said Gordon gloomily, refastening his helmet.

"Well, no more chili for dinner," said Scott, rummaging inside the cabinet. "Is this the one, John? Kit A-3?"

"Yeah, that's the one," said John, fastening his helmet down. "Okay, you guys get to train some more in free fall and get to learn construction as well. Yippee." He motioned for his brothers to follow him to the airlock.

They spent the next six hours outside, trying to piece together the various bits of the docking collar. Finally, John called a halt. "I think we've got some pieces missing. Either we're going to have to rebuild this damned thing or just have Alan dock the space ship nearby and carry cargo from the ship to the shuttle. It's a good thing we can fly this damned thing into the atmosphere and land it. I'd hate to have to depend on that collar for anything."

Scott knew that the only thing keeping John from kicking the rental shuttle was the fact that he'd inevitably bounce back from the damned thing and be propelled away from it. "Come on, Johnny," he said. "It's been one hell of a day. Let's call it quits. We can call Alan and warn him about the collar. Who knows, maybe Dad can send a replacement."

"Okay," John said, sounding defeated. "You better reel Gordon in."

Scott turned his head and found Gordon turning easy cartwheels at the end of his tether. "You know, John, Gordy's having way too much fun up here." He began to slowly reel in his brother's safety tether and pulled him back to the airlock, like a puppy on a leash. Once inside, Scott handed the unhooked safety tether to John. "You want him?"

"Hey, I'm not a helium balloon, here!" Gordon said, pulling his helmet off and letting it float away.

"Could have fooled me," John said dryly, attaching the line to a hook on the wall inside the cabin. "You're enjoying weightlessness so much? Get yourself out of your suit."

"Hey, I can do this!" Gordon said, working on the fasteners but realized that he was floating freely without leverage. "Okay, I can do this. I can totally do this." He pulled off a glove and, using an overhead handhold, propelled himself to a towel-bar and tucked his feet under it. "So there!" He shrugged off the space suit and pumped his arms in triumph, then promptly found himself spinning into the opposite wall while his brothers hooted.

TRACY ISLAND

Virgil's nausea faded as soon as he felt gravity again. Alan put the rent-a-rocket down on the tarmac of the family airfield on Tracy Island. Both brothers found themselves a bit shaky walking in gravity again, ultimately supporting each other on the walk back to the house. Virgil privately thought they looked like a pair of drunks after a long binge.

As they approached the house, Virgil could smell the delicious scent of one of Kyrano's dinners. "Man, I feel like I could eat an elephant," he said to Alan.

"You pretty much can, Virg," Alan replied. "You've lost most of the calories you've taken in over the past three days." He patted Virgil on the back. "Why don't you go get something to eat, while I check in with Father."

Virgil didn't need to be asked twice. Alan checked his father's office but didn't find him there. Ultimately, Jeff Tracy was in the silos deep below the surface of Tracy Island. Alan drew up next to his father and Brains while they watched Thunderbird Three going through a painting cycle on the automated assembly-line.

"Wow!" Alan said admiringly. "Is she done?"

"Almost, this is the last coat. She's ready for testing next," Jeff Tracy said with pride. "I bet you didn't think we could finish her this fast."

"She's beautiful," Alan said. "Does she have all the internal fittings too? Seats, bunks, everything?"

"The uh..primary details have been taken care of. There are some i..internal details to be finished but she's essentially complete," said Brains.

"So, how are things going in orbit?" Jeff turned away from Thunderbird three as though he'd just realized Alan was back early. "Out of supplies already?"

"Not exactly," Alan admitted. "Virgil has been having problems with space sickness from the moment he experienced free fall. The Thoramin wasn't working at all. When he finally threw up into his suit, John and I decided to bring him home."

"That bad, huh? I'm sorry to hear it," Jeff said with disappointment. "Where is he, anyway?"

Alan grinned. "Oh, he's feeling better. He's in the kitchen, getting Kyrano to feed him."

"Well, it isn't as though we don't have plenty of work for him here," Jeff said. "Let's go upstairs and you can tell me all about your adventures. How are Gordon and Scott doing?"

Alan laughed. "Gordon's a natural. If anything, he's having too much fun in free fall. Scott is slower, but I think he'll do okay. I think I'm down here just for the day. I'll get some more food and bring it back for everybody. By the way, has Kyrano baked any more pies lately?"

"Well, I hope you'll stay to dinner. It's been awfully quiet without you boys around. Can I persuade you to leave tomorrow instead?" Jeff stepped out of the elevator and led Alan into the lounge.

"I don't mind staying and having a decent meal," Alan said. "John's got everything under control upstairs. Sure. I can go back tomorrow then."

That night at dinner, there was considerable discussion of Virgil's little problem.

"I'm sorry, son, but I don't have any better suggestions," Jeff said with regret. "I never had a problem with space sickness and Thoramin worked just fine for everyone I knew who did."

Virgil spooned more mashed potatoes onto his plate. "Yeah, but it just isn't cutting it for me. And it sounds like I can't adjust naturally. Maybe Brains can come up with something?" he glanced hopefully over to the scientist sitting next to him.

"Well, uh..I'll see what I can do, Virgil," Brains said doubtfully, helping himself to green beans.

"Might I make a suggestion," Kyrano said gently, putting down a pitcher of iced tea.

"Absolutely!" said Virgil. "Anything you can suggest is very welcome."

Kyrano smiled. "When I was very young, I suffered from sea-sickness. I found that eating candied ginger helped a great deal. In fact, it was much better than any medicine I could buy. I do have some, if you would like to try it."

Virgil's eyes lit up. "I sure would, Kyrano, thanks! Um, Alan.." he turned to his little brother on the other side. "Would you be willing to.."

"What? Take you up in a jet and try to make you air-sick?" Alan grinned. "Oh, Virgil, if you only knew how much I'd enjoy that!" He paused, thinking. "Be sure to bring lots of barf bags, though, I don't want to have to hose down the upholstery."

"Let's try it tomorrow, then," Virgil said, taking another bite. Kyrano left and soon reappeared with a small packet.

"Here is the ginger. Take a few pieces before you expect to be in a situation where you might be ill. It should prevent the sickness," he said and handed it to Virgil.

"Thanks, Kyrano, I'll give it a try," said Virgil with a hopeful grin.

After a brief and quiet dinner, the three brothers remaining on the shuttle went to bed. The nearly exhausted oxygen tanks on the suits were connected to a valve to recharge them for the next day.

"So, what's next for tomorrow, John," Scott asked sleepily from his sleep-sack.

"More of the same," John said from the door of the cockpit. "I'll be glad when Alan gets back so he and I can split duty."

"I'll do it," Scott said. "Just wake me up in four hours. Easier than trying to wake Virgil if he were here…"

There was a snort from Gordon's corner. "He's probably filled up on steak, pie and anything else he could get his hands on. And I bet he didn't have to use a plastic spoon like we do."

"Well, he's earned it," said John. "Anyway, I'll see you later, Scott. G'night, you two."

John heard the mumbled replies and closed the door. He really was disappointed that Virgil'd had to be shipped home and he knew how upset Virgil was about it. He shrugged and opened an astronomy e-book he'd brought along and began to read.

As the hours went on, John felt like the room was getting stuffy. That wasn't too unusual when you live in a box floating in space where most everything is recycled. He felt sleepier and sleepier until he was jerked awake by a loud hooting noise. The oxygen alarm? His eyes blurred as he read the indicator. There was virtually no oxygen in the cabin…

He pushed open the cockpit door. The main cabin wasn't much better. There must be a slow leak somewhere. The alarm was still blaring but neither Gordon or Scott had moved. "Hey!" he shouted. "Suit up! We've got an oxygen leak!" Then he dove for the suit locker and shrugged on his space suit as fast as he could.

"Sure we do," Scott muttered. "Nice try, John."

John, now suited up, grabbed Scott's suit and propelled himself over to his brother and forcibly pulled him out of the sleep sack. "Here! Get dressed, you freakin' idiot! This isn't a drill! Suit up!" John shoved the suit at Scott, then took off back to the suit cupboard.

Gordon was slowly pulling himself out of his sleep sack when John thrust a suit at him. "There's no oxygen in the shuttle. Put the damned suit on! NOW!"

With the fresh air from the suit, Scott had perked up. "What's going on? Did we really get hit by something this time?"

"I don't know," John said. "There's no whistling sound and no current in the main cabin. There may be a blockage in the oxygen lines. Gordon, you okay?"

"John," Gordon said. "Check your suit monitors. Mine say that I have about an hour's worth of air in my tanks. Shouldn't they be recharged by now?"

"Crap," John said as he and Scott each checked their levels. "I've got about an hour as well. Scott?"

"Yeah," Scott said. "We'd better check those lines."

The interior lines were unblocked, but weren't pushing out air either. John decided that the problem must be outside. After looking in the maintenance manual, he determined that they needed to check the exterior access. It was located next to the docking collar.

This time there was no fuss about going EVA. Gordon stayed at the airlock doorway to watch over the safety lines while John and Scott checked the external valves. Neither was pleased at what they found.

"I don't understand," Scott said, looking at the two cracked plastic valves. "I thought space craft always used metal, not plastic for mission critical parts."

John tugged at one valve and it crumbled in his gloved hand. "They don't. These are non-standard parts. The company Dad got this shuttle from has probably been cooking their maintenance logs. Plastic isn't used because the extremes of heat and cold in space would destroy them too quickly." He reached into the tool-kit and removed a tube of putty. He squeezed a generous amount into the hole left behind by the broken valve, then broke off the second valve and plugged it too.

"So, where's the backup tank?" Scott asked.

"It should be over here.." John led him around the side of the shuttle. "And…it's the same type of valve, long gone…" Where the valve should have been, there was a gaping hole.

"Let me get this straight," Scott said. "We have no air, except for what's in the suits?"

"Oh yeah. And it's even better, Scott," John said quietly. "That second valve back there? That was the fuel tank. We don't have enough fuel to make reentry. We're stuck up here until the air runs out."