Chapter 25: Farewell
Thursday 14th September 2079
Supported upright by the walking frame, Jeff Tracy concentrated on lifting one foot, swinging it forward of the other, and then placing it down on the floor. Then he shifted his weight over so that he could repeat the process with the other foot.
He slid the walker forward and took another step.
"Practising, Jeff?"
Trying to ignore the beads of sweat that were standing out on his brow, and the way his arms and back were aching, and the fact that his legs were trembling with the effort, Jeff smiled at Emma. "Yes, but I've given myself an extra incentive this time." He indicated a large book that was in the walker's basket. "I got this down without any help."
He sounded so much like a child who had proudly announced that they could now tie their own shoelaces that Emma almost laughed. "I'm amazed at how much you've improved over this past week. Look at you. You're walking longer distances, your speech is clearer, and you've got a lot more dexterity in your hands than I would have thought possible."
"Thanks." Eager to reach his chair, Jeff took another step. "I'm glad I had all those exercises and physiotherapy before the op. Now it's a matter now of getting my strength and stamina back."
"So you think the operation was worth it?"
"I do now, but until day five when I got my sight back I had serious doubts…" Jeff grimaced. "Like I'm starting to doubt whether I'll have the strength to reach my desk. Will you excuse me a moment?"
"Of course." Emma stepped out of the way. "Do you want some help?"
"No," Jeff puffed. "I can do this."
Ready to leap to his aid should he need it, Emma watched as he inched his way closer and closer to his desk. The further he walked the more shuffling his steps became, but nothing faltered his determination to reach his goal. When he reached there she pulled out his swivel chair and held it steady so he could sit in it.
"Thanks," Jeff gasped as he flopped into his seat. "I never realised that that was such a long way."
The lack of clarity in his speech told her that he had exhausted himself, so, under the guise of being curious, Emma withdrew the book from the basket. "What is this?"
"Family photo album."
"Oh." Emma decided that this was not a book to be nosey with, and placed it on the desk in front of him.
Jeff removed the cap on his head. "I feel like Virgil wearing this thing," he admitted, running his hand over the downy fuzz that resided there. "Except that he's got too much hair and I haven't got enough." He replaced the cap, hiding the healing scars.
Emma giggled. "You could always ask him for one of his wigs."
"I could," Jeff agreed, "Except that I've never seen myself as one of the blue-rinse brigade…" He sighed. "Even if I am old enough."
"Don't think like that!" Emma told him. "Now that your health's improving you seem younger every day."
"Currying favour with the boss?" Jeff growled, but his eyes were twinkling.
"I don't need to. Not when he's given me the two months off." Emma hesitated. "Are you sure you want me to take a vacation? I don't mind staying on."
"No," Jeff responded. "Tracy Industries had always planned on suspending operations for the two months leading up to Doomsday and you've worked longer than anyone else. Just because there is now a chance that the worst won't happen doesn't mean that we're going to insist that everyone change their plans."
Emma smiled down at him. "You're a good man, Jeff."
Jeff seemed embarrassed by the compliment. "I just know the importance of family, that's all."
"In that case," Emma indicated the album. "How about showing me yours?"
"You don't want to see these boring old snapshots," Jeff protested.
"Yes, I do."
"Well… Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you." Concentrating on holding the cover and getting a full range of movement out of his arm, Jeff opened the album to display the first photos. "That's my parents."
Emma looked at the wedding photos. One formal, the other of the couple cutting the cake. "They look happy together."
"I think they were," Jeff agreed. "I don't think I realised how much he loved Mother until the day he died. We Tracy men don't seem to find it easy to tell the women in our lives how much we care." He felt, rather than saw, Emma move away slightly and cursed his choice of words. There'd been a slightly strained air about the secretary these last few days and he was pretty sure that it was his fault.
Emma shifted the conversation to what she considered to be safer topics. "What did they do?"
"They were farmers born and bred. I don't think they relaxed and put their feet up a day in their lives. Once I had the money so she didn't have to work I tried to get Mother to take it easy, but she wouldn't listen."
"I think her son takes after her. Not to mention her grandson."
He turned the page. "That's them working on the farm…" He chuckled at another photograph. "Bessie the cow. She was an important part of the family too."
Emma smiled. "I'm sure we townies never know just how necessary a cow is to family life."
"No…" Jeff turned the page. "Oh!" He tried to cover the photograph, but his weaker left hand wasn't quick enough to hide the photo of the toddler running buck-naked towards the camera. "That's embarrassing!"
Emma giggled. "I'm sure there aren't too many secretaries who can say that they've seen their boss naked without the fear of scandal."
"Why did Mother put that in there?"
"It's a mother's prerogative to embarrass her son."
"Maybe, but I don't know about a father's. John'll kill me if I let you see any of him like that." Making sure that he kept the offending snapshot hidden, Jeff pointed out another photograph. "That's me in my Scout uniform." He turned the page and sped through the photos dedicated to his childhood and youth. "Getting my wings. Joining the Air Force. Just before I flew to the moon …"
He went to turn the page, but Emma stopped him. "That's the first thing I've seen relating to your astronaut days," she admitted. "You must have more than one photograph in your collection?"
"I do…" Jeff stared at the photo of his younger self – dark-haired, wrinkle-free, and fit, despite the fact that his spacesuit gave the illusion that he weighed about 200 kilos.
"Can I see them sometime?" Emma was asking. "Maybe after my vacation?"
"Do you really want to?"
"Of course I do! Not everyone gets to meet an astronaut, let alone work for him."
"Did you realise that you've worked for two astronauts?"
"I've what?!"
"John's been into space."
"He has?" Emma stared at Jeff. "I never knew."
"There's a lot you don't know about him," Jeff stated. "I only hope you get the chance to find out one day." He turned back to the album. "I suppose I should be grateful that Mother reprinted these photos regularly and saved the files to new media every time the standards changed."
Emma wasn't listening as she wondered what other secrets John Tracy had.
Jeff had stopped turning the album's pages at the photos of his wedding day. He reached out to a formal portrait and touched the face of his late wife. "I'd often heard people say that they'd found their soul mate, but I didn't know what they meant until I met her." His hand moved to the less formal photo of the cake cutting. "I've met a lot of wonderful women before and since, present company included…"
"Ah…"
"…But I've never met another woman who could, or who I'd even want to take her place." Jeff continued to gaze at the photographs, turning the pages slowly in a show of savouring the images, and hoping that he'd put Emma's mind at ease.
She said nothing and Jeff decided that he'd lingered long enough on the photos of his wedding and early married life. "You're waiting to see photos of John, aren't you?" he teased.
Emma coloured slightly. "Yes, please!" And to Jeff's relief, he realised that the slight twang of tension in her voice had gone.
"Okay... I can't remember what's in here, so let's see what surprises Mother has left us …" Jeff turned another page. "There's Scott."
Emma looked over his shoulder at the baby with stunning blue eyes and dark hair. "He was a cutie."
"He's always been a lady killer. They all are. Take after their old man."
Emma laughed.
And Jeff relaxed.
There were lots of photos of Jeff Tracy's sons during their childhood years and Emma pointed at one of a young boy in mid-air as the pair of hands that had thrown him skywards waited to catch him. The child's arms were outstretched and his face was alive with happiness. "That's a good photo."
"That's Scott 'flying'. He loved to do it more than my arms did; I'll tell you." Jeff indicated another snapshot of a red-headed tot, impish grin splitting his face as he splashed water at the camera from the pool he was in. "That's Gordon... And this is Alan." The boy, little more than a baby, was pushing himself along in a toy car. The look on his face showed his determination to get as much speed out of it as he could. "And this is Virgil." The toddler was banging on the keys of a plastic piano that was smaller than him. "That was his favourite toy... Until he decided that he wanted to find out what made it tick and broke it. He was devastated and I did my best to fix it; but it never sounded the same. I always felt I'd failed him until I was able to afford to buy him a proper instrument."
Jeff paused as he mulled over the four photographs. "You know, Mother knew what she was doing when she chose these pictures. Each one says a lot about the boys, their interests, and what their personalities were going to be like when they grew up." He turned the page and laughed. "Or maybe not."
The first photograph of the following spread was of a boy, his toothy grin beaming through a face smothered in chocolate. Thanks to the thick brown 'mousse', what could be seen of his blonde hair was sticking out at all angles, and Emma supposed that there wouldn't have been much point in trying to salvage his clothes in the wash. "Is that Alan?"
"Nope. John. He always had a sweet tooth... "
"John!?"
"Hang on; I've turned two pages..." Jeff forced his left hand to turn the heavy page back. "There. That's a better representation of his personality." He pointed to the photo of the young boy sitting alone atop of a small hillock; his arms wrapped around his knees as he gazed up at the stars.
Emma stared at the picture. "He somehow seems to be, ah..." She tried to think of the right word. "Lonely."
"I can see what you mean. But John was always something of a loner. And he always thought of the stars as his friends. He was probably as happy sitting there as any of his brothers in the other shots. He gave up a lot when he took over from me at Tracy Industries and I hope that once Doomsday's passed he'll have the opportunity to find true happiness."
"What would make him happy?"
"Finding someone who understands him and will be willing to enjoy the stars with him." Jeff turned the page again. "And who also has a sweet tooth."
Emma laughed.
They flicked through more pages of the younger Tracys' triumphs. As they passed before Emma's eyes she saw them grow and mature. She also came to realise what a close family they were.
She stopped Jeff at a relaxed family portrait of the boys, now men, and their father. "I like that one."
"That was taken soon after we moved to Tracy Island. We were nearly ready to reveal our dreams to the world."
Emma stared at Jeff. What he'd said didn't make much sense and she wondered if that was because he was growing tired. "Don't you wish you'd told them about your operation? I can see from these photos how close you are to them all. Don't you think they would have wanted to be here to support you?"
"Their work is too important."
This statement was even more confusing and even Jeff seemed to realise that there was something odd in what he'd said. He shut the photo album.
"Are you tired, Jeff?" Emma asked.
He nodded, his fingers tracing the edge of the book.
Emma looked at her watch. "I guess it's time I should be going anyway... Unless there is something else I can do for you?"
"No. I'm fine. Thank you, Emma." The look Jeff gave her sent shivers down her spine.
"Are you sure? I know you're more capable than you were, but now that Mr Kyrano's returned to the island I don't like the idea of leaving you alone."
He smiled at her concern. "I'll be all right. Lady Penelope and Parker will be here soon and I know full well that when Penny moves in she'll be cracking the whip to keep order. The less people about to upset her plans, the better."
"I said it before and I'll say it again. You're a good man to give Sara and Martha time off."
"Why not? Let them enjoy the next two weeks."
Two weeks? Doomsday was slated to happen at the beginning of November, which was well over a month away. Worried, Emma tried again. "I can wait until they get here and then I'll leave." She gave a half-hearted chuckle. "I'm sure Lady Penelope won't mind if we say we're enacting the changing of the guard."
Jeff smiled, but it wasn't the happy smile that lit up his entire face. "I think I'd like some time alone, Emma. But thank you for the offer."
Emma put the last of the papers in her case. "If you're sure..."
He was running his fingers along the edge of the photo album again. "I'm sure."
Case packed, Emma hesitated. "Well, that's that," she announced. "I won't be seeing you again until after Doomsday... If International Rescue is successful."
Jeff gave a sombre nod.
Emma held her arms open. "Can I have a hug for luck for both of us?"
This time Jeff's smile seemed warm and genuine as he struggled to his feet. "Keep safe, Emma Janes," he said as they embraced. "Let us hope that the new year is better for everyone."
"Yes. And don't forget my phone number. If you need me to do anything at any time just give me a call."
Jeff sank back into his seat. "I'll remember."
It was time to return to a world where the future seemed uncertain and Emma realised that she didn't want to leave. She forced herself to pick up her case and hugged it close. "Goodbye, Jeff."
"Goodbye, Emma."
Aware of a deep set feeling of unease, Emma Janes walked out of the house and to her car. It wasn't that she wasn't sure if she would be coming back to a place that gave her an odd sense of security that made her hesitant; it was that spine-shivering look of Jeff's. Any concerns that she'd had that he'd had a romantic interest in her had been allayed, and she didn't think that Jeff was worried for his own safety. If that had been the case he would have asked her to stay until Lady Penelope arrived.
No. Somehow Emma got the impression that Jeff was worried for the family in that photo album; that his concerns were towards the safety of his sons. Almost as if he thought that they were in greater danger than anyone else on the planet.
Emma told herself that she was being fanciful, that Jeff Tracy's sons were safe on a tropical island, and that the knowledge that she was leaving a man that she had grown fond of in a filial kind of way was making her emotional.
She drove out of the driveway.
-I-R-
-F-A-B-
Friday 15th September 2079 - Malaysia
Deep in the bowels of his temple The Hood clenched his fists and ground his teeth together in anger. Dominance of the world had been within his grasp; only to be snatched away by the spineless inaction of a weak nobody who was only interested in their own miserable existence.
He'd just received correspondence from his pawn stating that arrangements had been placed on hold until after Doomsday.
The Hood snarled. He would not accept that there was to be a delay in the ultimate transfer of control of International Rescue to him! How dare someone so menial upset his carefully laid plans!? Who was this person to believe that they had the authority to change what had been a carefully planned strategy!? He would curse them! He would torture them! He would make them beg for mercy!
They would die for their insolence!
The Hood sucked in a deep breath and exhaled it through his nose, allowing it to calm him and settle his thoughts.
Did such a delay matter?
No.
He had been waiting the last seven years for the opportunity to gain the power he craved; he could wait another two months.
He could be patient.
-I-R-
-F-A-B-
Sunday 24th September 2079 – Tracy Island
In the seven days before lift off the Tracys barely surfaced from their labours, Brains hardly slept at all, and Tin-Tin seemed to live in her white lab coat. Even Scott forgot his earlier command that they all eat dinner together and had subsisted on a bite to eat whenever he found a moment to spare. It was therefore something of a surprise that they found themselves in the dining room at the same time...
"Fill it up, Kyrano," John held out his plate. "If I'm going to have to live on freeze-dried rations for the next few months I want to make the most of my last supper on Earth."
"If you carry on at that rate," Alan stated when he saw his brother's plate piled high, "you won't be able to fit your uniform again."
"Oh, yeah?" John took the seat opposite. "Betcha go back for seconds."
Alan smirked, but didn't respond. "Has anyone spoken to Dad lately?"
"I called him last night," Virgil admitted. "Is it me or is his speech easier to understand?" He scratched at the corner of his beard and then smoothed the hair back into place. "I was struggling to work out what he was saying because I was trying to interpret what he said when I didn't need to."
"Me too," Gordon agreed. "I think he understated that 'procedure' that he had so that we wouldn't worry about him. When I visited him last week he was talking and moving a lot more freely than he's done in years."
"Well, if it makes life easier for him, I'm not complaining," John stated. "He'll find it easier to do Tracy Industries' business once it starts up again."
"The quarantine aeroplane has arrived and there is mail for you all," Kyrano announced.
"Thanks, Kyrano." Scott started handing out the sterilised envelopes. "Gordon…"
"Great. More love letters from my lawyer."
"Virgil…"
Virgil accepted the heavy bond paper. "And it looks like I've got one from mine."
"Yours?" Waiting to see if he had any mail, John stared at his younger brother. "You're getting letters from your lawyer? Why?"
Virgil pocketed the envelope. "It's a long story. I'll explain later."
"Good. That'll give me something to listen to when things are slow."
"John…" Scott held out two manila envelopes
"Things to sign for Tracy Industries, I guess." John accepted the letters with a sigh. "I was hoping for something a bit more exciting on my last day on Earth."
"Me…" Scott examined his envelope. "It's from Tracy Aviation." He glanced at John and slipped his letter into his tablet PC's case. "Brains… One of your magazines."
"The N-New Scientist," Brains confirmed. He studied the magazine's cover through the clear plastic wrapper. "More, er, discussion on Doomsday."
"Is there any other subject?" Tin-Tin asked. "Have you anything for me, Scott?"
"It's a big envelope," he said as he handed it over to her. "More catalogues?"
"Of a sort. I have got to keep up with fashion," she told him. "I'm getting behind the times while I've been wearing this old thing." She indicated her lab coat.
"I always thought you had more style than most fashionistas," Alan told her.
"Flatterer."
"Yep. Anything for me, Scott?"
"Here y'are, Alan." Scott held out the last piece of mail; one slightly fatter than the rest. "Looks like it's from your racing team."
"I wonder what they want that they couldn't have emailed me." Alan ripped into the package. "It's been sent on by my manager. Probably someone who wants my autograph and for once has been thoughtful enough to enclose a stamped addressed envelope for my reply."
Tin-Tin placed her unopened envelope on the table. "Is it from a fan, Honey?"
"No..." Alan read some more. "Not really... This isn't for me; it's for all of us."
"All of us?" Virgil pushed his cap back on his head and then pulled it back into place. "What do you mean?"
Alan began to read out loud. "Dear Mr Tracy..."
"He's right," Gordon quipped. "It could be for any one of us."
"Be quiet, Gordon!" Tin-Tin scolded.
"Yeah, Gordon" Alan echoed "Be quiet and listen. You'll want to hear this... Dear Mr Tracy. I am writing to you in the hope that you are the person I wish to contact. My husband said it was you, but I'm not sure.
"I am the woman you helped rescue at Coche Del Olor on the 2nd of September, and I wish to thank you for your part in saving the lives of my children, my husband, and myself. And I would like to thank not only you, but also those fearless men who risked their own lives to save ours, and the woman who cared for my babies until I was able to. We got the impression that you know these other people and hope that you are able to pass our thanks and this small token of our appreciation..." Alan held up his hand and displayed six embroidered patches decorated with the date and place of the rescue. "We could sew these onto our uniforms."
"There is something else too." Tin-Tin picked up the envelope and withdrew a piece of folded paper. Opening it she revealed a child's drawing of a stadium on fire and six people on the ground, two standing on the top, and something being lowered down on a rope.
Gordon looked over her shoulder. "We should stick it to the wall. Where's your duct tape, Virgil?"
"I'll get it later."
"What else does the letter say, Alan" John asked.
Alan continued reading. "I wish you had given me the chance to give my thanks in person, and if this letter is not meant for you then I hope you will know the wonderful people who saved our lives and will pass my heartfelt thanks on to them.
"Thank you again, Mr Tracy.
"Yours with our deepest respect and gratitude.
"Alice, Brian, Shaun, and Mikala Leith."
There was silence as they all absorbed what they'd just heard.
Alan looked at his family. "When was the last time we received thanks for a rescue?"
"I'd sometimes get thanked just before we would leave the danger zone," Scott remembered. "But never anything in writing."
"There'd often be letters to the paper and online forums," John reminded him. "I'd check them out on the days following. And there was that web site that Ned Cook set up so that people had a venue to thank us. I wonder what he would have thought if he'd known that we'd check that regularly..."
Alan nodded. "Yeah, I'd often read that when things were a bit quiet on Thunderbird Five. It helped make the people we were rescuing seem more real, didn't it, John?"
"Yes."
"Real?" Gordon frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I know that we were a vital part of the rescue," Alan explained, "but floating above the Earth you did tend to feel a bit cut off from the action, almost as if you were a bystander listening to an interactive radio show."
"That's a good way of describing it," John agreed. "That web site of Cook's had been dead for years until Doomsday was announced. Since then it's been full of people pleading for International Rescue to do something."
"And since we said we were going to attempt the impossible?" Virgil asked.
"It's been swamped with people offering suggestions and pledges of support. Nothing practical, but I think it's helped people feel less powerless. There have also been a lot of people just saying thanks for at least trying and offering us their prayers for success."
Scott gave a slow nod. "Let's all hope that they do some good."
To be continued...