Thanks, as ever, for reading. Sorry to take so long. It's a little intense and took awhile to write down. =')
35
Venice, Italy, in a cauldron of turbulent water and shifting debris-
She'd forced herself to work through pain and exhaustion by rote, mechanical effort. Moving those muscles, keeping that focus, because otherwise people would die. Frightened children, hysterical tourists and half-drowned city officials; Kayo helped rescue them all.
Many came bobbing upward attached to bright orange IR floats, pinging a very distinctive loud beacon. Kay and the GDF wrangled those. Some got trapped in debris halfway up, swept sideways by a powerful current produced by the city's ongoing collapse. John went after these, using his IR environment suit to help him maneuver and shift heavy wreckage; plunging through landslides of girders and stone.
Up top, windblown dust made a hash of visibility, but Kayo could follow a beacon, sense frantic thoughts, without much need to see. And so, she kept working, accepting all help, whether GDF troopers or fellow Triumph competitors. (Onsite, because Maxton needed a ratings boost.) Mostly, she got there in time, clearing airways of sludge and restarting hearts by the dozen. Some of the folk were beyond her; had to be passed on to Penny and Virgil, over in Pod 4.
Except for her cramping stomach and burning muscles, Kayo soon lost track of time. Didn't know when she'd last eaten, or paused thirty minutes to rest. When shouts, screams, sirens, hover-craft engines and ocean roar hadn't drowned out all the rest. The pre-game briefing seemed like a million years ago, but Kayo kept going because that's what Thunderbirds did.
She'd just brought an unconscious teenager up to the pod ramp, after getting him out of his float. One of the Deth Chix… Cobra Doll… rushed over to take the guy off her hands.
"Easy," Kay gasped, fighting for deep, steady breaths. "He's got some kind of back injury."
Alice nodded her head, snake tattoo lurid and green in the floodlit gloom.
"I've got 'im, Kayo." Then, as Max bustled over, "Help keep 'im straight, Luv. No sense makin' things worse."
The robot beeped and chirped in response, treads clashing and rattling over the ocean-washed slope. Three of his limbs took gentle hold of that unconscious teen. One of them offered Kayo an unwrapped power bar and bottle of water.
Feeling terribly guilty, the girl hauled herself out of the ocean to crouch at the ramp's bobbing edge. Exhaustion and gravity struck like an asteroid, turning over-stressed muscles to jelly. Kay stared at the bottle and food for a moment, too stupid-weary to do more than gape.
Then Thunderbird 4 surfaced, hissing and streaming, a hundred yards from the pod. Water and mud poured off its surface. Vents opened wide, releasing exhaust and recharging the air tanks. Kayo sensed Gordon aboard, plus two distressed others.
There was more… so very much more… still to do. Couldn't rest, couldn't stop. Had to keep fighting for every last possible life.
Hurriedly, Kayo bit off and chewed about half of the power bar, which tasted of peanuts and silt. She managed a gulp or two from the metal bottle, then set them aside and got back in the water. Took a few deep breaths, stretched, and then began stroking smoothly for Thunderbird 4.
She had to dive underneath to help Gordon offload his passengers; an athletic maneuver but simple, thanks to constant practice in sim. The airlock could handle just one person at a time. Two at a stretch, if one was a child.
Now, with her rebreather in place and the sea growling loud in her ears, Kay reached through the hatch for a battered woman and half-conscious boy. Gordon was still inside, on the other end of his airlock.
He couldn't speak to his helmetless sister directly, but hammered out Morse code signals for caution and hurry. Evidently, there was someone else down there in desperate need, but he had to get Kay and her charges away before heading back under. Too close, and they'd be swept right down with the diving sub.
The Navy team had commandeered a motorized Zodiac. All of them could swim and were trained in shipwreck and deep-water rescue. When Kayo broke surface with Gordon's passengers, Rigby and Kraft dove in and swam over to help.
Another time, she'd have blown off their assistance. Now, though… cold, tired and stretched to her limit… with drones strafing and buzzing for video… Kayo was actually grateful.
"Thanks," she wheezed, as Emma took the boy and handed him over to Wayne. Next came the woman, brigade-passed from hand to hand until both were safe in the Zodiac. Behind them, with everyone clear, Thunderbird 4 blasted a warning and dove.
Kayo detected another beacon, then. Would have set off directly, only strong hands hauled her up and over the boat's rubber gunwale, next getting her wrapped in a blanket.
"You'll make it there faster with us," explained Emma, over the snarling motor. "Which way?"
Kayo managed a smile, then nodded at Pod 4. Her throat scratchy and raw, the girl said,
"To our triage-zone, first. After that, to the beacon." Which, apparently, regular folks couldn't hear. "John's sent another one up, about thirty yards, that way."
Petty Officer 3 Tanaka, at the tiller, looked from Kay to Lieutenant Kraft.
"Ma'am, which one first? Drop these off for treatment, or pick up the victim?"
Captain Rigby had seen to the rescued woman and child. Now, pale, but calm, he said,
"It's the chancellor. She's battling shock and exposure, but…"
"Never mind me," said Careena McGill, coughing water and clutching her son. "I'm alright. I'll be fine. Just… just save whoever else you can reach."
"Aye, Ma'am. Right away," replied the Marine.
Kayo scrambled up to the bow of that tilting small craft, moving at a hunched crab-walk. The beacon sounded clear and pure in her ears, a little bit louder to the right, maybe fifteen Hertz above regular hearing. There was a flasher, as well, but the dusty air mostly concealed it. Weirdly, Kay also sensed John.
With shifting tides in the Adriatic, along with that mostly finished collapse, the water level was falling. Here and there jagged, uptilted slabs broke the surface, along with a metric ton of swirling debris. The Zodiac picked its cautious way through that floating obstacle course, engine noise wavering as Tanaka changed speed and direction to dodge.
Kayo fought off a numb sort of daze, lulled by the motor and sway. Sitting up in the bow, she kept them oriented through all of the chaos and course changes. Video drones were everywhere. Some of them hovered just over people who clung to wood and debris; flashing their lights and emitting sharp beeps to attract attention. Others dashed about getting footage. Bastards.
She spotted John after three stops to pluck people out of the stew. His mask was off and he trod water, doing his best to keep a small someone protected.
Tanka turned their craft just a bit and cut the engine, trying to reduce their wake and bow wave. They drifted at John, but Kayo and Rigby shot into the cluttered sea like otters, and got there first.
"She needs help, Little Bit," said the astronaut, as his sister swam alongside. "I've been doing compressions and breaths, but…"
But, no good, said his troubled expression. John passed her a very young girl. Three years old, at the most, with matted dark curls and a slack rosebud mouth. Sara McGill.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Globe Studios video centre, at the same time-
Jacked up on pills, having no need for sleep, Melissa Maxton did not shut down production, or allow anyone else to go home. Screens flickered around her. Old and new coffee tainted the air, along with the aura of twenty-plus muttering, unwashed technicians.
In there, as well, were Sally and Alan Tracy, their eyes glued to those horrible images. Maxton noticed their fixed, anxious gaze, and smiled.
"Bet none of our test audience 're changing the channel, now," she jeered, nudging the worried old lady.
Grandma Tracy looked away from that little girl's still, pallid face. In a very low voice, she asked,
"You got any kids, Ms. Maxton?"
The show host froze, briefly, then came back with an elaborate shrug and eye-roll.
"Meh," she scoffed. "There may be a few failed abortions running around the apartment. What difference does that make?"
Moving almost subconsciously, Grandma placed herself between Alan and Maxton. Shook her head, saying,
"Nuthin', I guess. Don't matter, except I feel really sorry for 'em, and I got nuthin' more t' say t' you, now or ever. Send one 'a y'r people, instead."
Meant it, too. Every last, seething word.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Venice, at the noisy and wallowing pod-
Virgil Tracy strode across to the bobbing edge of the ramp, reaching out to snag the Zodiac's tossed line. Hauling hard, he guided the craft part way onto the pod ramp. The Zodiac's engine noise dropped to a petulant hum, almost inaudible over receding tide and Thunderbird 2, overhead.
Whipping the line around one of the ramp's track teeth, Virgil seized the first victim passed over by Kayo and Emma. A small girl, not moving at all.
"Advanced life support, hurry!" said his sister, as that soggy small bundle changed hands.
A woman… no, the d*mn Chancellor… started to reach for the baby, then fought very hard to control herself. Made eye-contact with Virgil and said only,
"Please…"
Virgil nodded. He'd have sold his soul if anyone wanted it, and could put life back into that too-still small form. Penny and Lee rushed over from deeper inside. Max, too, unfolding himself to form a quick treatment table.
"Scott's still down there, working on somebody else," said his sister, green eyes bloodshot from too much seawater and unshed tears. "John and Gordon are on their way, but they'll need surface transport. I have to head back."
"Copy that," the pilot responded, wishing for time and a million more helpers. He squeezed Kayo's shoulder, saying, "Do what you can, but don't push too hard. We don't need more casualties."
Then, as the little one got hooked up to air and heart-stimulation, Virgil took one victime after another from Rigby and Emma.
"You do this all the time?" Kraft murmured incredulously. "This sh*t is normal, for you?"
Virgil paused long enough for the woman to lean into him, briefly. Everyone else on her team was suddenly looking away, completely distracted with getting the Zodiac ready for relaunch.
"Not this bad or this much, usually," admitted the pilot, raking a hand through his wet, jet-black hair. "There was a fire, one time, that was worse than this… but there weren't so many people involved."
...And, God, it felt good to have someone to share with; to wrap an arm around and whisper to. Her own scent was there, clean and sweet beneath sea salt and mud. Some things just worked. They harmonized, like Kraft did with him, whether she wanted to see it, or not.
Then a hologram sparkled to life on the ramp right beside him. Brains, looking nervous and gaunt. Virgil cleared his throat and stepped away from Lieutenant Kraft.
"What's up, Brains?" he asked. "Could use some good news, right about now, Buddy."
The engineer nodded, swallowing hard enough that his adam's apple bobbed like a fishing cork.
"Y- Yes, Virgil. I am, ah… am v- very much aware." Tugging at his glowing white lab coat, Brains continued. "Th- There is a device packed along in, ah… in P- Pod 4, as previously stated."
"Uh-huh," Virgil prodded, brown eyes locked on Brains' image. "Keep talking. What does it do, and how can I use it?"
Hackenbacker was worried. Virgil could tell, because the engineer kept fiddling with collar, glasses and cuffs.
"It is an untested p- projector," he explained. "Using t- tachyons to carry the image and c- consciousness of a subject b- backward in time. Although, ah… though n- not very far, and w- with p- p- possible side effects."
Standing there beside Virgil, shifting easily with the pod's motion, Emma narrowed her eyes. Shoving impatiently at damp blondish hair, she snapped,
"So someone projects advance warning… to the Chancellor, say… before all this happened? Gets her to…"
"Call for evacuation," blurted McGill, pushing away from the medics to stand before Virgil, Emma and Brains. Snake-fast, her hand shot out of the blanket they'd given her, to seize Virgil's arm. "Do it. As far back as you can get. This morning, when I posed on the steps with Cal and the babies. You can talk to me, there!"
Virgil rubbed at the back of his neck, considering. Would it work? Would she listen?
"Okay, supposing Brains' invention functions as advertised, and I'm able to find you there, Ma'am… what could I say that'll get your attention?"
Careena McGill stood pale and erect, breathing hard, but not crying. Behind her, Luca was calling for mommy, Sissy and dad. With a slight catch in her voice, the Chancellor said,
"You find me, young man. You go right up, give me the warning to evac, then say 'This is that one mistake you've been so afraid of. Careena, don't make that g*ddam mistake!' I'll listen. I'll hear you. I'll do it."