Thanks, you guys; especially Bow Echo, and Akimakel!

9

London's New Town, in the back of a dark and dingy souvenir shop-

Reflexively, she'd lunged at him, swinging for his face and gut, simultaneously. Somehow, unbelievably, he blocked her punches and twisted aside like a dancer. Tried to bust her in the jaw as he went past, but Kayo stopped the thrust, just barely. Grunting, she kicked out, but he wasn't there, moving like a quick, shadowy cat. They struck at each other repeatedly, but not one of the punches hit home. Finally, he managed to catch hold and throw her, ripping Kayo's dress at the left shoulder. She crashed into a stack of dusty old cartons, releasing a tidal wave of shiny bead necklaces and collapsed cardboard. Kayo leapt to her feet at once, but he'd done what no one could do, except John, in his powered-up suit… he'd touched her.

"Shall we call it a draw, and get back to our bargain?" Nikorr mocked, not even breathing hard.

Kayo shook her head in sharp denial. Then, panting and channeling John, she made a counter-proposal.

"I can't speak for my brothers, and my uncle's a prisoner," the girl said to this vexing new cousin, "but if it's me you want, that I can deliver."

Only, the handsome young man before her wasn't biting. He actually sneered at her offer, his lip curling in open disgust.

"Unless the assassins are part of the bargain, we do not have a deal," he told her, his green eyes seeming to flare in the shadows. Kayo scowled at him, confused.

"What do you mean, 'assassins'?" she demanded, kicking at shiny blue beads, which rattled and hissed away across the floor. "The Hood isn't…"

"Dead? He soon shall be. Failure as complete and as public as his will not be tolerated, Tanusha. We are no softer on our own kind than on them. Therefore, they have killed him, unworthily. If your… 'brothers'… have any real claim to the Tracy bloodline, any right to put one of our number to shame and death, let them prove it in trial. Otherwise," Nikorr shrugged elegantly, his broad shoulders in that expensive dark suit scarcely moving. "They are just like the typicals… nothing but weak, witless cattle. Only, better armed."

Kayo's hands twisted themselves together behind her back… and dammit… she was certain that he could feel her surging new doubts.

"You're a lying snake," she growled at him, moving her hands back to her sides and clenching her fists. "And you're mistaking restraint for weakness. We protect, and we rescue, we don't kill. If my brothers decide to come, then we'll flatten your arrogant arse, together. If not, then I'll do it, alone… but nobody kills my uncle, not without a fair trial."

Nikorr cocked a slender, dark eyebrow. Very nearly, he smiled.

"I will take that as acceptance of our deal. These are the coordinates," he said to Kayo, eyes flaring again like green torches. "I shall place them upfront in your mind, where they cannot be lost, nor forgotten."

And all at once, the symbols were there; wherever she looked, and whatever she thought about: 77*31'47"S, 167*09'12"E, 250m, Dn.

Almost certainly, the glowing symbols were not a visual phenomenon, but she couldn't shake them, even with her eyes closed. How had he…?

Kayo's breathing roughened, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of showing alarm or surprise.

"Time, Jackass. When are we supposed to meet you?" she snapped, glaring at the smirking young demon behind that screen of softly glowing coordinates.

"Well… as one of my prime targets is away from Earth, at the moment, let us set the time for a month hence. Once a certain plan of mine reaches conclusion, I shall be able to accelerate his little "mercy mission" considerably. Then, I shall expect the pleasure of your company, with the former Kyrano, and your two mongrel brothers. Have we an accord? Consider carefully, Tanusha… a great many sheep lives hang on your words." Millions, to be more exact, although he didn't say so aloud.

Kayo kept her head up and her shoulders back. For some reason, she scoffed at him, rather than barking.

"Right," she said. "You would be the sort who has to use threats to get a date. Loser. Maybe we'll show up in a month. Maybe we'll just blast your sorry arse from Thunderbird 5, now that you've painted a nice, fat target for us. Chew on that one, wanker… and, hey… thanks for the laughs. I'll show myself to the door."

With that, Kayo turned around and stalked off; fully expecting to be struck from behind at any moment, but too proud to show concern. Made it. Walked on out the broken backdoor, and into the street beyond, suddenly conscious of her bare feet and torn dress in that chill, gusting wind. Naturally, her shoes had been pinched. Kayo had to buy a pair of cheap rubber sandals before hurrying back to the World Council Building, and Penny.

She slipped within the Chamber of Justice, just as they were playing footage of Scott's charge into the airship's presidential suite. In soundless slow motion, her older brother barreled through the smoldering doors, raised his zipline gun, and fired at a clearly hysterical Francois Lemaire, yanking something out of the man's hand. Camera angle made it impossible to see quite what it was, though. Then, Scott tackled the fellow, crushing him to the deck and bloodying his nose.

"Oh… d*mn," Kayo muttered, watching her brother act like an American wild man. All he needed was a lasso and a ten-gallon hat. Perfect.

Penelope, meanwhile, had noticed her friend's arrival. Her smile grew sweeter; her blue eyes bright and blank.

"Kayo," she whispered, "are you quite mad? Where is your jacket? And whatever has become of your shoes and dress? You look a perfect urchin! If they call you to testify, they shall convict Scott directly, on suspicion of abuse and neglect!"

The truth? Or a good, handy lie? Compromise, Kayo decided. As the view switched to a wince-inducing picture of Jeff, Lee and Scott standing over the Hood's unconscious body, Kayo said,

"I pursued the suspect, cornered him in a shop, and we struggled." Which was accurate, more or less. "I forced him to reveal his HQ, but then he used… um, a smoke bomb… and got away. You know, like they always do."

Penelope grimaced, apparently in genuine, fashion-related shock. As the photo montage ended, and the chamber's lights came back on, she hissed,

"Take my shoes and jacket, quickly! We are about the same size, I believe. And do try not to make a complete fool of yourself, attempting to walk. It is a natural, womanly art! Surely, even you…"

"Shut up and give me the d*mn shoes, Penny!" Kayo hissed back. "If I fall and break my neck, I'll haunt you into the next seven lives!"

And then, somehow, she knew… knew… that he was present, waiting to laugh at her. Keeping a jaded smile on her face, Kayo struggled into the St. Laurent jacket, and switched shoes with Penelope. They were tight, and the heels made her stand up on dizzying tiptoe, but she would rather have been skinned alive and rolled in hot pepper than trip and fall before Nikorr Kyrano, wherever he was.

Then her name was called, and a bronze staff thumped upon the tiled floor, three times.

"Miss Tanusha K. Tracy is called before this panel of inquiry!"

Glancing casually about the large, wood-paneled chamber, she took in the horseshoe of leather council seats, and the expectant audience in their boxes. Then, Kayo sashayed on forward.

All the rest of her life, among her proudest accomplishments was that haughty, elegant walk on Penny's bear-trap stilettos. Head high, she arrived to stand before the half circle of, erm… "grotty old barristers", who really did look like thirteen stern, bewigged zombies overlaid by glowing coordinates. A bow or curtsey was customary, at this point, but Kayo didn't dare; not in the footwear of doom. Instead, she gave them a flippant little salute and proud smile. A low buzz of disapproval arose from the audience, but the girl didn't much care. Let them try to balance in those five-inch nightmares. Then they could talk.

"You are Tanusha Tracy?" asked one of the councilors, peering down his long nose at her.

"Yes, Milord," she replied, shifting one hip to ease weight as she searched for relief. That the effect was flirtatious, Kayo had no idea. "I am."

"And you are the adopted daughter of Colonel Jeffery C. Tracy, hero of the realm, and founder of International Rescue, the organization currently under this body's scrutiny?" (This, from the new chancellor, a fellow named Reid.)

"Yes, Milord. I was adopted into the Tracy family at the age of 3 or 4. We aren't entirely certain which, as there are no records of my birth. Dad… Colonel Tracy… found me on one of his early rescues with Captain Taylor. He gave me a home, and a family."

"Yes, yes… all very touching, my girl," said Chancellor Reid, rather impatiently. Perhaps he was thinking of afternoon tea. Kayo certainly was… that, and her feet. "But we are not here to discuss your father, adoptive or otherwise. Instead, we are gathered to consider the actions of your brother, Scott William Tracy, who has been accused of savagely beating a man, nearly to the point of death!"

(Ironically, no one would ever blame John, the eyes and ears of International Rescue; the calming voice and first point of contact, for all those in need.)

Around them, the audience murmured and droned like a stirred-up hive. Reid sat back, smiling thinly. His mind was clearly made up, and this board of inquiry no more than the first step to conviction. But then, in her mind, she heard,

'Talk to them. I've lowered their defenses. They will listen.'

Kayo nodded, took a deep breath, and then began.

"My lords and ladies, let me tell you about my brothers…"

She spoke for nearly an hour, uninterrupted. Telling the council all about camping trips in the backyard, being pulled about in a red metal wagon, learning to sing, to open presents, to give and receive little kisses. Sharing food, riding on big shoulders and kicking her feet to make Scott or John run even faster. Of wandering off and getting lost one night when dad was away, to be found by both of them, with a pair of bright torches and scratched, worried faces. She'd been just about crushed with hugs; carried back, half-asleep to where Grandma waited anxiously with Virgil, Gordon and the baby.

Then, she told of the early days of IR; how Scott had stepped into the role of hero and leader; how John had walked away from all those pro baseball scouts to follow their father into space. Then, how Jeff had vanished. How the dream would have collapsed, had it not been for Scott, John and Grandma, who'd given everyone courage and purpose, despite all the pain. Then, at the last, of the Hood's attack on Global-1. How he'd threatened to slaughter its crew, including Captain O'Bannon, whom he'd beaten on camera. Of how he'd taunted them with the sight of their father, and how he'd demanded two Birds… and two of her brothers… in return for his hostages. In spare, simple words, Kayo showed them the heroism which had caused Scott and John to hand themselves over to a man who'd promised them torture and death. Then, lying a little, she said,

"They escaped, my lords and ladies, because it's always smart to have a plan B, and pack a bit of extra insurance. They tried to leave peacefully, but the Hood attacked them, and they were forced to defend themselves. As you can see from these news cam pictures, taken that day, my brothers were badly hurt… barely able to stand! It was a fight, ladies and gentlemen, and one that they only just walked away from, leaning on each other. If the Hood had won, Scott and John would not be alive, right now. He'd have killed them, and shipped home their bodies, in pieces!"

Strangely, there were tears on her face. More than a few in the audience, too. Penny sniffled audibly, feeling about for a tissue.

"Please," Kayo went on, very softly. "Please see them as I do, and stop this madness. They're brave and strong and good. Whatever you think of my brothers, Chancellor Reid, they'll always be my first heroes, along with Daddy, and Uncle Lee. And… and whatever you decide about them, I accept for myself, as well. I was there. You saw me in those pictures, with Scott and John. Sentence me, too."

"And me," said Lady Penelope, coming forward in cheap rubber sandals to take Kayo's hand. "I was present, as well, and a Creighton-Ward never shrinks from danger."

After that, as Uncle Lee would have put it, it was "all over, but the shouting". Unsurprisingly, Scott Tracy was acquitted by the board of all charges and his (obviously innocent) brother John, along with him. Also, pink rubber sandals became all the rage among London's fashionistas…

...And she now owed Nikorr Kyrano a favor, which was neither a safe, nor a comfortable position in which to find herself. Not at all.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Titan, at the pebbled edge of Lake Endurance, in a hard methane rainstorm-

Almost forgetting that he was on camera, Buddy reached out with a gloved hand, meaning to touch one of those giant, swaying stalks. They were spindly-tall, slick as wet plastic, and dark brown, with delicately fronded pale tops. Those swaying, feathery appendages seemed to be sweeping the yellowish sky, absorbing methane and nutrients washed down from above. But, some of the stalks were bruised in crumbling grey, seeming injured. Mere inches from touching one of the mud-worms, Buddy Pendergast drew back his hand.

"Crikey!" he stage-whispered. "Looks like some o' these Muddies 've been hurt! Must be delicate sorts, eh, Ellie?"

"Too right, Buddy!" she agreed, from behind the flat, armored camera. "Maybe best not t' risk harmin' 'em any further."

"Reckon! Back t' fossickin' up our brekkie it is, then. Let the Muddies get on with theirs, in peace, I say!"

Then, taking Ellie's gloved hand, Buddy led the way back across rippled dunes of brownish water-sand. Above them hung Saturn, partly obscured by smoggy dark clouds.

"Bit like bruise-flavoured fairy-floss, innit, Luv?" Buddy joked.

Smiling at him through her perma-glass helmet bubble, Ellie squeezed Buddy's hand.

"Puts me t' mind of our first evenin' out," she said. "That night the carnival come by, and we hit all the rides over and over, till we chundered!"

"You stuck it out like a trooper, El. Nuthin' like bondin' over a bucket, is there, eh?"

…At which both of them laughed, remembering. With light hearts, they crossed the dune field back to the site of their wrecked ship. It lay in widely scattered bits, with piles of debris frozen into a sheet of melted and re-hardened ice. Straightaway, they began to find useful supplies, from med-gear to food stuffs… but not much of either. Most of it had to be chipped out. Many supplies had broken open, or been contaminated, as indicated by their now bright-red safety tabs. In all, after three hours' hard work (all they could manage on their suits' air tanks) the explorers had succeeded in scavenging less than a month's worth.

"Well, Old Girl," said Buddy, shaking his head to clear sweat from his eyes. "Looks like short commons f'r you and me… but a rescue ship 'll be along any tick of the clock, you watch. She'll come right, in the end."

…Even if he had to lower the pod temperature and induce semi-comas. Even if he had to starve himself to feed Ellie. Aces, in the end; he knew it. For one of them, at least.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Thunderbird 1, racing to Antarctica-

They'd flown clear through the morning and into the afternoon, though at this time of the year, the sun shone all day, in Antarctica. Scott led the way, following the coordinates supplied him by Professor Moffat and Brains. Still, as he flew high over the clouds, crossed sixty degrees south, and entered the icy, troubled waters around Earth's southern-most continent, Scott couldn't help wondering what they would encounter.

"Dad," he said, over the rumble of engine, the howling of wind. "What if we're two weeks too early? I mean, if the power isn't emerging right now, will there be anything out there to find?"

Jeff lifted his head from the scanners a moment, saying,

"That's a good question, Son. If you're interested in my take on things…?"

"Always, Sir."

"We're not law enforcement, Scott. Let's go have a look-see, report back to the GDF, and warn them what's about to happen in London… then get a kill-signal sent out from Thunderbird 5, to shut down those collectors."

"Already w- working on it, Mr. T- Tracy," said Hackenbacker, who was still on the comm. "B- But a well sh- shielded bit of, ah… of malware has t- taken over the Asian energy system, and it is, ah… is adapting to all of m- my codes."

'John could do it,' nobody said out loud. Just on a whim, though, Scott hunted up the Asian Power grid IP address, and sent it… along with the nature of their problem… to Thunderbird 3. Who could tell? Maybe John or Alan would pick up in time to help out.

In the interim, Scott Tracy focused on his instruments and the flight, switching off with Dad, when he needed a break. Below them, the cloud layer grew patchy and thin. The ocean turned grey, choppy and ice-flecked, with a shrieking wind combing the white-caps and stirring up trouble. His sensors were picking up gusts of 110 miles an hour, which Thunderbird 2 rode out better than the long, slender rocket plane.

"B- Be cautious, Scott," Brains warned him, as they neared their goal. "Mount Erebus is an, ah… an active v- volcano, and p- prone to outgassing."

"Eruptions?" asked Jeff, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. He was going to be very late for his GDF in-process, but hopefully they'd cut him some slack, given the circumstances.

"N- Not violent ones, no, M- Mr. Tracy. Mount Erebus experiences w- what might best be d- described as a constant low boil. Safe enough, so l- long as one, ah… one does n- not get too close."

"Define close," cut in Virgil, who did not fly a very high-altitude Bird.

"S- Stay at least a mile away, Thunderbird 2, and all should be, ah… be well."

"One mile. Got it. Thanks, Brains."

"My p- pleasure, Virgil."

They were headed for distant Ross Island, crossing part of the barren, wind-hammered continent to get there. The island actually featured three volcanoes, but only one was active; Mount Erebus, which boasted two calderas, and a seething lake of restless magma. Its gasses and smoke made a beacon that Scott could have followed backward, with a blanket over his head.

"Tough to miss," he muttered, triggering every scanner his Bird possessed. "What're we looking for, exactly, Brains? Some kind of secret hideout? An alien spacecraft needing power?"

"Anything out of, ah… of the ordinary, I would say, S- Scott. But remain wary and w- watchful, as trouble may c- come through unexpected means."

"Right. Understood."

The skies had cleared to gem-like brilliance. The low sun was very bright on all of that shimmering ice, casting spears of light in all directions; painting shadows of green, blue and violet. There were spires of black rock, too… and that towering pillar of steam.

"Thunderbird 2, you go in low, but stay away from the volcano," Scott decided. "I'll fly overhead for a look inside those calderas. Maybe someone's trying to set off a massive eruption, and another long winter."

He was already pulling up, his viewscreen filling with sky.

"On it, Scott," Virgil responded, banking down as he crossed the coastline and roared in over a rocky grey beach. "I'll look around for any signs of…"

And then, without warning, his Bird's systems shut down. The cockpit went dark and silent, as 2's batteries died and her engines cut off. Not good, because, without power, his Big Girl glided like a green concrete block.

"Uh-oh…" he said, flipping switches and restart buttons like mad. His brother's holo had disappeared, too… and nobody answered the comm.

"Thunderbird 1, from Thunderbird 2. Scott? Dad? You there? Anyone?"

The rocky, snowbound horizon tilted wildly, rushing upward. Wind screamed around his Bird like a hurricane.

"Scott, Brains… I'm going down. No power, no guidance. If you can hear me, get the crash gear ready. I'm riding her down, and it's gonna get ugly. Repeat, this is Thunderbird 2 declaring in-flight emergency. I'm going down!"