The Tracy Family and Thunderbirds are the creation of Gerry and Sylvia Anderson
Author's Note: The ref made to research being done in the connection of neural pathways is accurate to my knowledge; however, Brains' 'Thought Processor' is a work of pure fiction.
Chapter 53
Just how long this had been on his mind she wasn't sure but his next words came as something of a shock, right out of the blue. Jenna reflected back to earlier in the evening. Scott had woken seemingly refreshed, though still a little stiff and sore and she had massaged his legs with a soothing balm after helping him get dressed and taking him to the bathroom. There had been no inkling of how he was feeling as they enjoyed their evening meal. It was only when she had started to work on his arm, however, that she noticed his quiet, pensive mood; with not having been able to work on his arm in the morning Jenna had decided to wait until the evening when they could be more relaxed.
"Jen…just leave it, will ya," he requested, sounding a little flat. "I mean….why are we bothering? It's useless," Scott added dejectedly, on seeing her quizzical frown.
Jenna sighed inwardly to herself. She should have guessed that sooner of later he would hit a low point. After the high of this morning when he felt he had made great strides in getting to his feet and even taking a few steps it was normal enough that he should feel he wasn't making any headway with his arm. She could tell he was beginning to resign himself to accepting this was how it was going to be but she wasn't prepared to let him go down that road just yet. She stopped what she was doing.
"No…I will not just leave it, Scott…and I'll tell you why we're bothering. It's because I'm not prepared to give up….and what's more, I'm not letting you give up either," she insisted with such a forcefulness that it momentarily took Scott by surprise.
"And you call me stubborn and ornery!" he remarked, raising his eyebrows.
Jenna relaxed with a laugh. "Guess we're just made for each other," she responded lightly.
"Guess we are at that," Scott answered more seriously. That was one of the things he loved about her, her fiery, feisty spirit.
Holding his hand, she caressed his unfeeling fingers as she spoke. "It's still early days, Scott. You've had invasive brain surgery…you know we've talked about all this before," she gently reminded him. "….there was quite a lot of bruising and thankfully no damage….you've just got to give it all time to settle down…to heal," Jenna said softly in the hope of reassuring him. Lifting his hand she gently kissed his fingers and brushed her face against them, closing her eyes and silently praying for a miracle, the miracle that he would feel her do it….but none came.
He was silent for a few moments; he had heard it all before and loved her for what she was trying to do. "You've known cases like this before, haven't you? Scott asked with interest.
"Y e s," she replied slowly, wondering what it was he wanted.
"And have you ever known it take as long as this to get feeling back?" he questioned tentatively, mentally preparing himself for a negative answer.
"Scott….you can't compare like that. Everybody's different," Jenna said positively. "There's different degrees of bruising….damage even. Everybody heals at a different rate. You just can't compare," she added honestly.
"Yeah…I guess," he responded half-heartedly but she could tell he took that to be a negative.
Jenna had continued to work on his arm, doing the gentle exercises for stimulation and circulation, all the while his mood becoming quieter and more pensive. That was when he had mentioned his desire to fly again, the first time he had spoken of it.
She hadn't expected that he wouldn't ever think of flying and flying a craft like TB1. It was in his blood, as sure as night follows day. It was that feeling of being free, soaring like an eagle; her brother had tried to explain to her. Johnny may have been many things but he was a pilot through and through and he loved to fly. A pilot is what you are in your heart and soul; you just can't shut that off totally. Oh, it may get buried for a while but sooner or later that desire would surface. Every time he would see a bird fly free on two wings he would be reminded he was shackled to the earth by a useless limb. Every time he would see his brothers go out he would be reminded that he should be with them, leading them. She was not naïve enough to think her love would replace his desire to fly but rather that her love would enable him to fulfil that need in whatever way she could; the desire of true love being to give and not to take, to set free and make whole, not to bind and to break the spirit. To love a person truly is to want to make that person happy, to help that person reach and achieve their goal, to complement and enhance that person, to want to make them feel whole and complete.
Jenna knew she would never actively dissuade Scott from flying, if that's what he still wanted to do. They would find a way round it, though quite frankly, she wasn't expecting him to go to such lengths. A clear and vivid picture now came to her mind as she looked at him with tender compassion; that of a wild animal with a damaged limb, held by one of those inhuman bear traps, a wild animal that longs to be free. So much is its longing for freedom that it will chew its damaged limb off. A very poignant image in light of what he was now telling her. It was clear now why Scott had asked her how much she loved him; it was to know if she would stand by him in his decision should he choose to make it.
His words echoed again in her mind. "Jen….if that guy can learn to fly again with artificial legs….then I can fly again with an artificial arm," Scott stated quite simply, as though he were talking about some new component part for TB1 instead of a new component part for his body.
"You are joking….right!" was Jenna's first reaction but he looked at her calmly and with that poker cool stare she couldn't read.
"Just think about it Jen……I could have Brains make all sorts of different attachments for me….a laser, an oxydicetalyne cutter, grabs….he could even make me a version of Mobile Control, then I would have all my equipment….on hand…so to speak!" he grinned with that wide-eyed unreadable look.
Now, that was funny she thought to herself as she put her hand to her mouth to cover her smile, not wishing to encourage him, though she had to admire his witticism in the face of such a dire contemplation.
"And what's more," he went on enthusiastically. "Brains could make me a blow torch…..then I could really make Gordy and Alan tow the line. They wouldn't mess with me then," he added with a laugh.
"I shouldn't think anybody would mess with you," she agreed. "And…would that include me too," Jenna asked, giving him a wry look.
"No, of course not Jen," he responded, pulling a mock serious face. "But think of the advantages….we would never run out of toasted marshmallows in bed…..and….I could make your toast for you in the morning….personally!" he smiled, a seductive glint dancing in his eyes.
At that Jenna burst into laughter. "My own personal toaster, huh. Scott Tracy….you're incorrigible," she continued laughing and shaking her head.
In a few moments, though, the laughter had died down and once more she caressed his fingers as she studied him. "You're serious about this, aren't you?" Jenna asked gently.
His pensive and quiet mood returned. "Jen…if there's a possibility I can fly again…..I've gotta, at least try. Can you understand that? Jen…I'm not going insane…and I'm not depressed," Scott replied, almost begging for her understanding.
"Yeah…I can understand that…and no, of course you're not going insane…and I know you're not depressed," she assured him as she stroked his face. "It's just….it's so extreme. I mean, I know I don't know anything about mechanics and that and please don't get mad at me, Scott, but couldn't Brains…well…couldn't Brains adapt Thunderbird 1 in some way…," she said rather lamely.
Scott took her hand in his. "Aw Jen…I couldn't be mad at you….and I know what you're saying but One…well…she was designed to be a two-handed craft, that's the way she flies…she just wouldn't handle the same any other way," he tried to explain but it's kinda hard, to someone who doesn't know about mechanics and engineering or aerodynamics. "And anyway…what would I do when I got to a rescue site…the Field Co-ordinator's always there first. How would I set up Mobile Control? I couldn't keep asking members of the public to go in and get it for me…sometimes we're at rescues where there is no one else. And I couldn't operate solely from TB1, there's people I need to liase with…I couldn't bring them on board. And if I had one of the guys with me to help me all the time then I wouldn't be independent. Then there's the rescues themselves…I need to be free and flexible to go where I'm needed," Scott continued explaining, thinking of all the different problems that could arise.
"Well….you certainly seem to have thought of everything," Jenna mused sadly, knowing that everything he said was true. She also noted that he had gone on from his thoughts of flying again to his role as Field Commander, thoughts of returning to his life. "But there's other possibilities we can look at, Scott. There's new research going on all the time," she said reassuringly.
"Yeah, I know….but research can take years, Jen," he replied with the knowledge of one who isn't ignorant of such things.
"There was research being done in the early 2000's that was working on connecting the neural pathways, they've been making great progress with that," she added hopefully.
"I know that too, Jen….but it's not always successful, is it…and it takes time," he responded, to which she had to agree. "This way, Jen….well…this way would work. Brains has been working on a thought processor…it's like a microchip that could be implanted in the arm…all I would have to do is think what I want the arm to do and…it would do it," Scott explained as simply as possible. "And they are pretty realistic now….Brains could give me the touch sensitive feeling I would need to fly One and…..other things…too, I guess," he said, starting off sounding a little enthusiastic but tailing off, knowing it would never be the real thing.
Jenna knew what he was thinking and put her hand gently to his face, making him look at her. "Hey…if you think I would put off by that…off you….you've got another think coming, Mr Tracy," Jenna smiled encouragingly. He returned a relieved smile. "And I guess you're not ready to sit behind a desk permanently either, are you?" she asked gently but already knowing the answer.
"Jen…I know what that's like….it's part of my job. I take over when Dad's away on business and I know one day I'll take over permanently but…..well…I don't know if I can just sit back here and give advice when I feel I should be out there. I just know I've gotta consider this other option if there's a chance……though…if that's not possible either…then I guess I'll have to adapt," he finished rather forlornly.
"I can understand that. You've been thinking about this, haven't you?" she asked sympathetically.
"I guess I've been thinking since reading that book…if he could do it back then…well…with all the advances in technology…I could do it too. But it would only be worthwhile with you by my side, Jen. If I thought for one minute I would lose you," he replied, a pained expression forming on his face. "You're more important to me now than anything, more important than International Rescue. Jen…I know now how empty my life has been….I've been running on automatic…on empty for a long time. I can't lose you now," Scott agonised; turning his face into the palm of her hand, he closed his eyes tightly and kissed it.
"You're not going to lose me, Scott Tracy…not ever," Jenna assured him, as her heart ached for him. "And you're not going to do that to me…lay it on me like that," she added in a mocking scold, making him look puzzled. "I can live with you being stubborn and ornery….but turning into a bitter old man, full of regrets!" she exclaimed with a smile.
"He gave her a half-hearted smile. "I wouldn't Jen….I…," he protested before she stopped him, pressing her finger to his lips.
"Besides…I wouldn't do that to you…make you choose. I love you too much, Scott. I love the person that you are….I don't want to change you and if it turns out that this is the only way to do what you want to do…then I'll stand by you, I'll support you in whatever decision you feel is right," Jenna responded lovingly. "Just…promise me you won't do anything hasty," she asked with a anxious smile.
"Jen…I love you…and I don't deserve you. And don't worry…I'm not about to do anything hasty…it's not as if I'm gonna ask Brains to lop it off tomorrow," Scott promised, smiling weakly. Behind her smile, though, he could see worry and concern. "Come here," he added softly, inviting her into his strong and protective embrace. She gladly went to him, snuggling down into his warmth as she laid her head against his chest, Scott resting his head against hers. "I'm sorry if I scared you," he apologised, as he held her tightly to him.
"I guess I didn't really understand how much it all meant to you….what it means for you to fly again," Jenna mused, as she thought about all they had talked about. "You're the bravest man I know, Scott Carpenter Tracy," she told him, the loving tone in her voice clearly evident.
"I'm not brave, Jen….actually I'm scared stiff," he admitted, much more easily than he ever would have done. "It scares me more to think I could lose you, now that I've found you," he added, as he kissed the top of her head affectionately.
"Well, you're not going to," she assured him. Jenna hugged him tightly, causing him to wince against the soreness he still felt from the morning, for which she apologised.
"Aw Jen…I don't deserve you….how can you….," he was about to say.
"Scott Tracy…so help me, if you ask me one more time, 'how can I love you like this'…I'm gonna give you some more bruises to add to your collection, understood!" she said as she laughed with a mocking exasperation, poking him playfully in the ribs.
"Yes ma'am…I read you loud and clear," Scott grinned, flinching at her jab.
"Oh but you were so brave this morning….when I saw you fall, I just wanted to go to you and hold you and kiss you and make all your hurt go away," she confessed, making a kissing gesture on his chest.
"You did, huh," Scott remarked, smiling to himself. "Well….you know…it still..kinda hurts," he grimaced in an exaggerated fashion.
Jenna lifted her head from her resting place and gave him a wry smile. "Oh it does, does it!" she exclaimed in amusement.
"Oh yeah…in fact..I think it's getting worse," he continued grimacing, with a few groans thrown in for good measure. Jenna couldn't help but admire his acting ability.
"My poor baby," she purred, in way-over-the-top sympathy, while gently holding his face in her hand. "And you think if I kiss you it'll all go away?" she asked in mocking seriousness, trying her hardest not to smile.
"Well…it won't do any harm to try," he suggested, wincing again, though his eyes were bright and alive with mischief.
He turned to face her and drawing her to him they began playfully stabbing kisses at each other, laughing and canoodling, gradually slipping down the bed into a more comfortable position and into a much more serious kiss. How they ever managed to pull apart again was anyone's guess and Jenna, once more, comfortably rested her head on his shoulder.
"Jen…could you do me a favor?" Scott asked, screwing his face up, as though he felt uncomfortable.
"Do you need the bottle again?" she presumed sympathetically.
"No, not this time," he laughed. "Could you just…scratch my nose," he asked.
"Scratch your nose, huh. I guess it's only fair…seeing you were gonna toast me marshmallows in bed," she smiled. "OK, where….here?" she laughed, as he wrinkled and squirmed his nose until she found the right place.
"Thanks Jen…there's nothin like havin an itch you can't scratch," he remarked, giving her a wry and knowing look. Jenna returned his look with a shake of her head and a light poke in his ribs before laying her head again on his chest.
Scott stroked his fingers idly up and down her arm as they lay in companionable silence, reflecting to himself as he, first, looked down at his useless arm, then to the woman lying in his protective embrace. Smiling, he knew it was only her strong love that would enable him to make such a decision and still keep his sanity. Without her…oh he may well have come to the same decision but he would become a cold, emotionless machine, an automaton of a man, driving everyone else around him away, driving himself deeper into despair.
Staring at the ceiling and continuing to trace his fingers up and down her arm he thought some more. "Jen….I've been thinking. I will tell Dad about us…and soon. I just don't want him thinking I don't know my own mind…..that this is just a patient falling for his nurse kinda thing. You do understand? You don't mind Jen, do ya? Jen!" Scott exclaimed. Puzzled by the lack of expected response, he looked down and smiled. He gently traced his fingers along her forehead and kissed the top of her head for she had fallen asleep.
"Computer…..initiate Code 9…..Voice Command," Scott ordered in a lowered voice.
"Initiating Code 9…Voice Command," the computer repeated in a monotone voice. "Please verify personal code before compliance."
"SC1," Scott responded quietly, as Jenna sighed and her warm body snuggled into him more.
"SC1 accepted……What can I do for you Scott?" the voice returned in a curiously more personal and somewhat sultry tone than before, making Scott smile broadly.
It had been agreed among all of them, even their father, that the central computer should have a female voice for the Voice Command Mode, being a houseful of men and somewhat short of female company. Once they had all entered their own private codes, however, they could add a bit of individuality, a personal touch, in how 'She' responded to them. They, of course, had decided to have some fun.
Their father, Scott knew, had kept his 'response' the same, strictly monotone and professional. Gordon had his 'Voice' light-hearted and cracking jokes with him and Scott swore he must collaborate with 'Her' in coming up with more and more elaborate practical jokes. Virgil's 'response' was soft and adoring and he sometimes had heard his brother discuss aspects of art and music with 'Her'. He had to smile at one particular memory when Virgil had gotten so carried away about a particular aspect of art that he was passionate about that he stormed, 'And what would you know, you're just a dumb old computer….you don't have a creative bone in your….software!' Scott smiled even more broadly as he remembered the following exchange. 'I'm sorry Virgil, perhaps you would explain it to me,' 'She' had responded and Virgil had absentmindedly replied, 'Aw gee hunny, I'm sorry….I didn't mean to shout at you.'
John's was down to earth and, of course, being a computer, knew everything there was to know about Astronomy and galaxies and such, though John had programmed into 'Her' the ability to discuss the more controversial subjects of Black Holes, Quantum Physics, Worm Holes and the like, just to liven things up he said. Alan had his 'Voice' sugary sweet and eager to do his every bidding, much to everyone's amusement, knowing it bugged the hell out of Tin-Tin. Once, they had heard Alan getting a right dressing down from an irate Tin-Tin. 'Well, if you think for one minute I'm going to be….to be…..sugary sweet and do your every bidding….Alan Shepard Tracy…you've got another think coming', causing them all to snigger and which was why Alan had probably made 'Her' so compliant.
'Her' response to them reflected a little bit of their individual personalities in regards to the kind of woman each of them secretly desired. And his 'Voice'? He couldn't keep the smile from his face. 'She' was sultry and sensual and he had programmed into 'Her' the ability to verbally spar with him. It was sad, in a way now, the more he thought of it, that in order to relieve their loneliness they would come to their rooms to 'talk' to their 'ideal woman'.
He was going to have to do something about 'Her', for now, of course, he had the real thing, he grinned to himself. Jenna moved against him with a soft, contended sigh, as if to remind him. Or…perhaps not….maybe it would add a bit of extra spice to their relationship, he thought, with a mischievous gleam in his eye.
"Lower lights, please," Scott ordered in a quiet tone so as not to wake her.
"Just how low would you like the light, Scott?" the sultry 'Voice' asked. "And would you like some music to help you relax, Scott….if you tell me your mood I'll pick something appropriate from my data bank," 'She' asked helpfully, causing Scott to momentarily cough and then to laugh inwardly at what Jenna's reaction would be to that.
"No…that won't be necessary, thanks. Just make that sleep mode," he instructed with a smile.
"Sleep Mode confirmed……..Goodnight Scott," the sultry 'Voice' replied and with that the lights were dimmed.
"Goodnight," he answered automatically. Scott reached down by his side for the control panel and pressing the appropriate button the bed gently lowered into a comfortable position as he sighed and snuggled into her. Resting his head to hers, he fell asleep.
Elsewhere in the house, earlier that evening! John had come across his father, alone, behind his desk in the lounge, and not for the first time studying the portraits of his sons in their IR uniforms. He took up position, casually straddling the corner of the desk. "Wanna tell me what's on your mind Dad?" John asked with gentle concern, for upon first entering the lounge John had observed his father, having briefly closed his eyes, running his fingers over his, somewhat shorter, hair and sighing deeply.
Jeff Tracy smiled half-heartedly, a long ago memory of a young boy straddling his desk in the same manner, though his legs not reaching the floor, came flooding back to him. "Wanna tell me what's on my mind, Dad?" the young John had asked seriously, in an ever so wise manner and then frowning heavily when he realised there was something that didn't sound quite right about that. He soon knew when his father had laughingly responded with, "I only wish I could Son. If I could read your minds then perhaps you boys might not get into so much trouble!"
Sighing, Jeff told him of his contemplations in regards to the re-structuring of International Rescue. John was on his feet in seconds, staring at his father with a look of total unbelief and a decidedly different tone than that of gentle concern. "But….you can't do that to him, Dad! It'll kill him," John responded incredulously.
All Jeff Tracy's frustrations came bubbling to the surface as he smashed his fist hard down on his desk. "Damn it, John…. don't you think I haven't considered that."
