Me, again... and boy, this one's short. Just, you go where the chapter takes you, and stop where it does, y'know? Thanks again, Tikatu and Bow Echo, for general, all around awesomeness, and all your reviews. Keeps me on point.

11

Gran Roca Ranch, in "real time", at the testing arena-

Scott stumbled forward a few steps, blinking in utter confusion. The sudden transition from bucking, wind-battered cockpit to still, quiet lab was a cold-water shock. Fluorescent lighting and the faint background hum of complex machinery had replaced the world's violent ending, in less time than it took to draw a deep breath. Scott felt himself tense and grow flushed. Felt his breathing roughen. They'd failed; pulling out of the training simulation before achieving whatever Machiavellian d*mn goal Brains had set for them.

Expecting a reprimand, and furious because of it, Scott Tracy swung around to face the others, most of whom looked equally dazed and confused. Virgil and Gordon emerged from their chamber wet clear through, shading their eyes a bit from the sudden bright light. John and Alan looked wind-blown, leaning forward, still, against a gale that was no longer there. Alan appeared deflated, dejected; John, tense and concerned. Lifting a hand to his earpiece, the red-head seemed to listen to something it told him, then reply very quietly. Whatever he did cut part of his evident tension, for John relaxed just a bit. Kayo… was looking up at the control center, scowling the way she had when they'd first met her, all those years back; like someone who did not understand all the new rules, and refused to risk a mistake.

One of them had done it. One of his brothers, or sister, had been overwhelmed by their task and punched out, ending the sim without a clear win. So much for their great, unbeatable plan. Right. Scott made a certain quick signal, then strode away from the others. Far enough to be out of earshot, anyhow. Moments later, John and Virgil joined him across the big, echoing chamber.

"Needless to say…" Scott growled, keeping his voice low and mostly controlled.

"I didn't do it," Virgil protested, holding both hands up, palm outward, in a display of total innocence and denial. "I was in the middle of a rescue on the Island, with Tadpole. Grandma and them were all safe… ish. I mean, in that situation…" he trailed off, shrugging broad, muscular shoulders. "Anyhow, we had things in hand, Scott. No way we'd have punched out early, either of us."

IR's field commander studied his second brother's dark eyes and handsome, blunt face. Virgil couldn't lie very effectively, because he didn't believe in it. If he didn't want to deliver bad news, he'd just keep quiet. Okay, then… Not him, and not Gordon. Scott grunted, then looked over at John, whose blue-green eyes were narrowed in speculation.

"Me, neither," he said. "I was busy re-writing part of the sim code to, um… just looking around for the actual end-game. And Alan is too much in love with his new toy to even consider ending things early. But…" the astronaut finger combed his red-golden hair with a slim hand, looking a lot like Dad. "Obviously, something went wrong pretty much right from the start, Scott. What if Brains ran into trouble somehow, and the training computer just shut itself down?"

Scott frowned distractedly. Then, he mused,

"You know this set-up better than I do, Little Brother. Could that really happen?" Very much, he still wanted something to blame, and someone to yell at. Still, if John said that the simulation could break down and eject them on its own…

The tall, slender astronaut gestured; flipping one hand side to side in a 'yes-no' sort of way.

"Call it a definite maybe. I'll look into it, Scott… but I think we need to find our testing coordinator, first. If something's gone wrong, he may be in trouble."

Their oldest brother nodded reluctantly.

"Yeah. I was thinking along those lines, myself, before I went out after Goddam Langstrom Fischler."

Virgil snorted, digging an elbow into Scott's ribs.

"Tell the truth, Glorious Leader," he prodded, as they began heading back to the others. "What would you have done if you actually got to the sumbitch?"

Scott opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again, with a decisive snap. Finally, he admitted,

"Honestly? It's probably a good thing that I never had a chance to find out. Might have pulled a John, or something."

The vid-star handsome astronaut, who was sensitive about his sometimes volcanic temper, stalked off to join Kayo. Scott watched him go, saying,

"That guy… takes a lot of figuring out. At least he didn't die, this time. Good thing he has Kay to bounce off of. I mean… Not like that. Came out all wrong. Sorry."

Virgil shook his head, reaching over with a massive hand to give Scott's shoulder a friendly pat.

"Couldn't pay me enough to take your job, Brother-man. You have fun herding raptors through a minefield. I'll stick with heavy lifting." Then, "C'mon, diplomat… let's go find Brains," he said, adding, "A rancher works from sun to sun, but IR's work is never done."

Over to one side, Kayo looked up at her brother, a wordless question in those big green eyes. Folding his arms across his chest, John shook his head, no. They hadn't figured her for the one who'd pulled free and punched out somehow, using Alan's button. He'd covered her tracks, both digitally and verbally. For a long moment, the girl leaned against him, resting her forehead on his upper arm, just trying to calm herself and re-center.

Alan watched the deeply-bonded pair, feeling like the kid who'd got socks and a whistle for Christmas. Then Gordon shoved him, annoying and awesome as ever.

"Bet there's a way around that whole physics thing, Al," he said cheerfully. "For your robot-plane, I mean. All that thermodynamics crap is just the evil tyranny of old men with calculators and long, white beards."

This statement made Alan feel better. Unfortunately, it also reminded Gordon that his butt-munch brother had damaged the glorious, golden beard of power, and deserved vile retribution; with both hands, in frickin' spades.

Alan was too preoccupied with Valkyrie work-arounds to notice Gordon's suddenly narrowed hazel eyes and rigid posture. Otherwise, he'd have known to lock doors, load a shotgun with rock salt, buy canned food, and seek shelter.

One way or another, though, they all soon converged on the door that led up to Hackenbacker's control center. It was print-locked, of course, and repeated calls upstairs had elicited no response, whatsoever. Trouble.

For something to say to her, while John and Scott worked on the door's print scanner, Alan turned to his lovely sister and chirped,

"Hey, you don't think the sim could be smart enough to protect itself by just making us think we were out… do you?"

Tanusha cocked her pony-tailed head, considering. The notion was foolish; typical Alan-style nonsense… wasn't it? Hard to tell, with all his emotions and juvenile lust crashing against her, like that.

But… what if the boy was right, as so often happened? What if his seeming dumb question had cut right down to the truth? How would they know, if the system had worked out a way to fool even her?