Sixteen
He could hear a voice in the distance. It came closer and closer. He became aware of a light that became so bright it was nearly unbearable.
"Virgil! Speak to me! Say something!" He recognised the voice, understood the words, but something in the tone sounded wrong.
"Please Virgil, wake up! You gotta wake up! I don't want to be left here alone! I need you! I can't cope without you!"
Virgil sat up and waited until his head stopped spinning before he opened his eyes.
"Virgil say something! Move! Do something! Let me know you're okay!"
Virgil was astounded to realise that Scott was panicking. He placed his good hand on Scott's shoulder. "It's okay, Scott. I'm here. It's alright."
"Virgil?" Scott placed his own hand on Virgil's. "You're alright. I... I thought..."
"You're shaking! Calm down Scott. I'm fine."
"But your head..."
"My head?"
"I felt it. Your temple! It was bleeding. I didn't know how bad. I couldn't tell... Couldn't see..."
Virgil removed his hand from under Scott's and gingerly fingered his own temple. He could feel where the blood had dried and matted his hair. "It's alright Scott." He said gently. "It was only a graze. I must have knocked it when I was looking about the room. Apart from my broken arm, I'm fine."
"Honest?"
"Honest. I promise that if I'm lying I'll never have another of Grandma's Brownies." The attempt at humour didn't have the desired effect. "I'm not going to leave you, Scott. I said it before and I'll say it again. You wouldn't leave me and I won't leave you. Remember that." He placed his hand back on Scott's shoulder.
It appeared to have the desired calming affect.
"I feel such a fool."
This simple statement surprised Virgil. "Why?"
"For panicking. I'm supposed to be the one who's calm in a crisis."
Virgil chuckled. "I thought we were all supposed to be that. It's part of the job description. Don't worry about it. I think anyone in your situation would be entitled to panic." He wriggled his fingers of his broken arm. "And thanks for doing whatever you did. I didn't appreciate it at the time, but my hand feels normal again." He made an abrupt movement with his hand and then cringed as a jolt of pain shot up his arm. "Well nearly normal."
"How high's the water?"
"I'll crawl over and have a look." Virgil did so, chatting reassuringly as he went. "It sounds louder." He reached the ladder and grabbed it with his good hand to steady himself as he looked over. His spirits sank. "It's reached the bottom of the ventilator shaft."
"How quickly is it rising?"
"I can't tell. It must be quite quick." Virgil shuffled back to his place beside Scott.
"Is there anything we can do?"
"I don't think so," Virgil lay down again; he was feeling light headed. "The water's rising, the door's locked, and we've got no way out! I think we've had it this time..."
"That's not like you! You've never given up before."
"I've never been in a totally hopeless situation before." Scott could hear the despondency in Virgil's voice. "I've never felt so helpless."
Scott sat for a moment in thought. "You know," he said carefully, "maybe we've been looking at this situation from the wrong angle."
Virgil had his good arm resting across his eyes. "We're trapped and we're going to die. What other angle is there?"
"We've only been concentrating on our situation from our view point. What do you think they'll be doing at home?"
"Weeeell. Father will be wondering whatever possessed him to create an organisation that puts his sons lives at risk. Grandma will be trying to put a brave face on things. Alan will be making a beeline for the jet, so that he can get here as soon as possible, but he won't have given any thought as to what he'd do when he gets here. Gordon will be holding him back and hoping that Father will come up with a solution and then he'll be given the controls of the jet. Brains will be in his lab working on the computer trying to come up with a solution. Tin-Tin will be fighting back the tears and will be comforted by Grandma. And Kyrano will be very worried, very inscrutable and be making numerous cups of coffee! And as an extension of that John will be up in Thunderbird Five, trying to reach me on my communicator and feeling absolutely useless!"
Scott laughed. "True. And after they've done all that, what will they be doing?"
Virgil shifted the arm shielding his eyes so that he could see Scott. His older brother was 'looking' in the general direction as to where he expected the answer to his question to come from. "I don't know. You've obviously got something in mind."
"I think they'll activate Thunderbird Two's Automatic Retrieval System."
"Two's Automatic Retrieval System! But that's too dangerous."
"I think they'll consider it to be worth the risk. And it won't be too dangerous if John controls it from Thunderbird Five."
"You know what happened last time we tried that." Virgil said glumly.
"And you know Brains has put in improvements so it won't happen again." Scott reminded him.
Virgil sat up suddenly and then wished he hadn't. The spinning stopped after a moment as he felt a surge of hope pass through his system. "So they could be on their way here now!"
"Yes. How long did it take you to get here?"
"1.05 hours."
"So we'll give them 20 minutes to do what you said before, get the idea, debate its merits and get it underway. Since John will be flying Thunderbird Two remotely he'll be slower getting her home than you were, so we'll be generous and make that 1.33 hours. Then they'll have to load Two with whatever gear Brains'll think they'll need..."
"Give them quarter of an hour to do that."
"Right and then 1.17 hours to get back here, depending on whether Alan or Gordon flies her."
Virgil ran the numbers together in his head and hoped that he was thinking clearly enough to get an accurate total. "So that's roughly three hours five minutes."
"That's what I get too. So that means Thunderbird Two is about half an hour away from here."
Virgil frowned as he concentrated on confirming Scott's arithmetic. "How do you get that? I'd say we've been running around this place for about two hours."
"Agreed. So I'm taking that into account, plus the time we've been up here."
"But if we do that I think they'll be only 20 minutes into the flight."
"You were unconscious for about 20 minutes."
"Was I?" Virgil was startled by the revelation. "I guess that's one way to pass the time."
"So we've got to let them know where we are."
"And the only way we've got of doing that is to eat our edible transmitters." Scott could hear a new sound in Virgil's voice. It was hope. "Can you get yours okay?"
"I think so..." Scott felt around in a pocket. "I've got mine." He popped it into his mouth and started chewing. "Mmn, apple pie flavour. Have you got yours?"
"Yep!" There was a moment's silence as Virgil retrieved his edible transmitter. What he said next surprised Scott. "I'll kill him! As soon as I get home I'll kill the little creep!"
Scott ignored the fact that the comment was totally out of character and chuckled. "Alan or Gordon?"
"Alan!"
"What's he done now?"
"Remember how Brains said he could make our edible transmitters any flavour we wanted?"
"Yes."
"And Alan wanted to test him..."
"...So he said orange, beetroot and liver flavour. And Brains showed he has a sense of humour and did it..."
"Yeah. And Father made Alan keep his instead of getting a nice flavoured one."
"I remember. So..."
"So! He's only gone and swapped mine with one of his!"
Scott was speechless. Part of him wanted to laugh at the thought and part of him realised the seriousness of the situation.
"It's gonna taste terrible."
"So what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to have to eat it aren't I. Otherwise everyone will think I'm dead or something."
"And you can't swallow it whole. It has to be chewed to activate it."
"I'll kill him!"
"You might have to beat Father to the punch."
Virgil nearly gagged as he chewed on the transmitter. "I'll kill him!"
"Okay! I get the idea! You're going to kill him. But you'll never be able to do it one handed. Tell you what, as soon as we get home, I'll hold him down and then you can kill him."
At last Virgil saw some humour in the situation. "You're on!"
"And while we're waiting for them you can be planning just how you're going to do it."
"Something messy."
"Oh!" Scott sounded surprised "I thought you'd at least try to dream up something artistic, something with flair..."
***
John was alerted by a signal from his main console. What he saw elevated his spirits. He quickly activated the communication links between Thunderbirds Five, Two and base. "Father! - Scott's edible transmitter is sending a signal! - And there's Alan's! ... Alan's?"
Alan backed away so that he was no longer visible in the video link between Thunderbird Two, Thunderbird Five and base. He turned scarlet.
Gordon turned to look at him. "You didn't! He's gonna kill you!"
"I-I thought he'd check it when he put his uniform into the wash."
"Alan." Jeff's voice had a no nonsense tone and belied the relief that he was feeling. "I'll want to speak with you when you get home."
"Yes, sir." Alan had a feeling it wouldn't be an agreeable conversation.
"That's if Dad doesn't kill you first!" Gordon couldn't keep the humour out of his voice.
"Thanks!" Alan said sarcastically.
***
Virgil and Scott hadn't spoken for a while. Virgil was humming a tune to himself, trying to keep his mind off his churning stomach.
"That's a neat tune." Scott said. "Did you make it up?"
"Yeah, just now."
"Well when we get home, record it. I'd like a copy."
"Before or after I get my revenge on Alan."
"Are you still going on about that?"
"Yes! His transmitter's made me feel sick." At Scott's laughter Virgil grimaced. "I do. I feel ill!"
Scott stopped laughing. "Really?"
"Really."
"How bad?"
"Not bad. Just enough to be annoying."
"What flavour transmitter were you supposed to have?"
"Chocolate." Virgil said sadly. "And instead I end up with orange, beetroot and liver." Then he cheered up slightly. "I do have some good news though."
"I'd love to here some good news around about now." Scott said firmly.
"At least the lights have stayed on throughout all this."
"Lucky you."
There was a sizzling sound.
"Let me guess?" Scott stated. "The lights just went out?"
"Uh-huh." Virgil was now getting some idea of what Scott had been going through for the last five or so hours. He found a pocket and reached inside, his fingers closing around a flat strip.
All the Tracy boys hated this particular piece of equipment. A strip of luminescent plastic, that when exposed to skin temperature would glow. It wasn't a good light, but bright enough that you could see what your hands were doing. Its big drawback was that it was designed to stick to the forehead, leaving the hands free, and removing it was nearly as bad as removing duct tape. Reluctantly Virgil attached it to his head, realising that his scratches and grazes would make it doubly uncomfortable to remove. He settled back again miserably. "The day's just going from bad to worse."
"Have you got your headlamp on?" Scott asked him.
"Yes."
"Just the icing on the cake." Scott commented darkly. "I'll tell you one thing."
"What's that?"
"Next time someone says that a rescue is going to be easy, Alan can take Thunderbird One. I'm staying home!"
"Yeah. Me too. Gordon can take Thunderbird Two."
"Right! So we both pledge that on the next easy rescue we let our brothers take our craft."
"Agreed!"
They were silent for a short time.
"The game will be over now. I wonder how the Tigers got on." Scott mused.
"The way our lucks been going they will have lost and lost big." Virgil resumed his humming. Then he stopped. He let out a quiet chuckle.
"Okay, let me in on the joke." Scott said.
"I know how I'm going to get my revenge on Alan."
"Oh, yes? Something messy?"
"Depends on how Alan reacts. It's definitely something artistic. But I'll need your help - and Gordon's."
"And Gordon's? Alan's going to be in big trouble. So what's the plan...?"
He could hear a voice in the distance. It came closer and closer. He became aware of a light that became so bright it was nearly unbearable.
"Virgil! Speak to me! Say something!" He recognised the voice, understood the words, but something in the tone sounded wrong.
"Please Virgil, wake up! You gotta wake up! I don't want to be left here alone! I need you! I can't cope without you!"
Virgil sat up and waited until his head stopped spinning before he opened his eyes.
"Virgil say something! Move! Do something! Let me know you're okay!"
Virgil was astounded to realise that Scott was panicking. He placed his good hand on Scott's shoulder. "It's okay, Scott. I'm here. It's alright."
"Virgil?" Scott placed his own hand on Virgil's. "You're alright. I... I thought..."
"You're shaking! Calm down Scott. I'm fine."
"But your head..."
"My head?"
"I felt it. Your temple! It was bleeding. I didn't know how bad. I couldn't tell... Couldn't see..."
Virgil removed his hand from under Scott's and gingerly fingered his own temple. He could feel where the blood had dried and matted his hair. "It's alright Scott." He said gently. "It was only a graze. I must have knocked it when I was looking about the room. Apart from my broken arm, I'm fine."
"Honest?"
"Honest. I promise that if I'm lying I'll never have another of Grandma's Brownies." The attempt at humour didn't have the desired effect. "I'm not going to leave you, Scott. I said it before and I'll say it again. You wouldn't leave me and I won't leave you. Remember that." He placed his hand back on Scott's shoulder.
It appeared to have the desired calming affect.
"I feel such a fool."
This simple statement surprised Virgil. "Why?"
"For panicking. I'm supposed to be the one who's calm in a crisis."
Virgil chuckled. "I thought we were all supposed to be that. It's part of the job description. Don't worry about it. I think anyone in your situation would be entitled to panic." He wriggled his fingers of his broken arm. "And thanks for doing whatever you did. I didn't appreciate it at the time, but my hand feels normal again." He made an abrupt movement with his hand and then cringed as a jolt of pain shot up his arm. "Well nearly normal."
"How high's the water?"
"I'll crawl over and have a look." Virgil did so, chatting reassuringly as he went. "It sounds louder." He reached the ladder and grabbed it with his good hand to steady himself as he looked over. His spirits sank. "It's reached the bottom of the ventilator shaft."
"How quickly is it rising?"
"I can't tell. It must be quite quick." Virgil shuffled back to his place beside Scott.
"Is there anything we can do?"
"I don't think so," Virgil lay down again; he was feeling light headed. "The water's rising, the door's locked, and we've got no way out! I think we've had it this time..."
"That's not like you! You've never given up before."
"I've never been in a totally hopeless situation before." Scott could hear the despondency in Virgil's voice. "I've never felt so helpless."
Scott sat for a moment in thought. "You know," he said carefully, "maybe we've been looking at this situation from the wrong angle."
Virgil had his good arm resting across his eyes. "We're trapped and we're going to die. What other angle is there?"
"We've only been concentrating on our situation from our view point. What do you think they'll be doing at home?"
"Weeeell. Father will be wondering whatever possessed him to create an organisation that puts his sons lives at risk. Grandma will be trying to put a brave face on things. Alan will be making a beeline for the jet, so that he can get here as soon as possible, but he won't have given any thought as to what he'd do when he gets here. Gordon will be holding him back and hoping that Father will come up with a solution and then he'll be given the controls of the jet. Brains will be in his lab working on the computer trying to come up with a solution. Tin-Tin will be fighting back the tears and will be comforted by Grandma. And Kyrano will be very worried, very inscrutable and be making numerous cups of coffee! And as an extension of that John will be up in Thunderbird Five, trying to reach me on my communicator and feeling absolutely useless!"
Scott laughed. "True. And after they've done all that, what will they be doing?"
Virgil shifted the arm shielding his eyes so that he could see Scott. His older brother was 'looking' in the general direction as to where he expected the answer to his question to come from. "I don't know. You've obviously got something in mind."
"I think they'll activate Thunderbird Two's Automatic Retrieval System."
"Two's Automatic Retrieval System! But that's too dangerous."
"I think they'll consider it to be worth the risk. And it won't be too dangerous if John controls it from Thunderbird Five."
"You know what happened last time we tried that." Virgil said glumly.
"And you know Brains has put in improvements so it won't happen again." Scott reminded him.
Virgil sat up suddenly and then wished he hadn't. The spinning stopped after a moment as he felt a surge of hope pass through his system. "So they could be on their way here now!"
"Yes. How long did it take you to get here?"
"1.05 hours."
"So we'll give them 20 minutes to do what you said before, get the idea, debate its merits and get it underway. Since John will be flying Thunderbird Two remotely he'll be slower getting her home than you were, so we'll be generous and make that 1.33 hours. Then they'll have to load Two with whatever gear Brains'll think they'll need..."
"Give them quarter of an hour to do that."
"Right and then 1.17 hours to get back here, depending on whether Alan or Gordon flies her."
Virgil ran the numbers together in his head and hoped that he was thinking clearly enough to get an accurate total. "So that's roughly three hours five minutes."
"That's what I get too. So that means Thunderbird Two is about half an hour away from here."
Virgil frowned as he concentrated on confirming Scott's arithmetic. "How do you get that? I'd say we've been running around this place for about two hours."
"Agreed. So I'm taking that into account, plus the time we've been up here."
"But if we do that I think they'll be only 20 minutes into the flight."
"You were unconscious for about 20 minutes."
"Was I?" Virgil was startled by the revelation. "I guess that's one way to pass the time."
"So we've got to let them know where we are."
"And the only way we've got of doing that is to eat our edible transmitters." Scott could hear a new sound in Virgil's voice. It was hope. "Can you get yours okay?"
"I think so..." Scott felt around in a pocket. "I've got mine." He popped it into his mouth and started chewing. "Mmn, apple pie flavour. Have you got yours?"
"Yep!" There was a moment's silence as Virgil retrieved his edible transmitter. What he said next surprised Scott. "I'll kill him! As soon as I get home I'll kill the little creep!"
Scott ignored the fact that the comment was totally out of character and chuckled. "Alan or Gordon?"
"Alan!"
"What's he done now?"
"Remember how Brains said he could make our edible transmitters any flavour we wanted?"
"Yes."
"And Alan wanted to test him..."
"...So he said orange, beetroot and liver flavour. And Brains showed he has a sense of humour and did it..."
"Yeah. And Father made Alan keep his instead of getting a nice flavoured one."
"I remember. So..."
"So! He's only gone and swapped mine with one of his!"
Scott was speechless. Part of him wanted to laugh at the thought and part of him realised the seriousness of the situation.
"It's gonna taste terrible."
"So what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to have to eat it aren't I. Otherwise everyone will think I'm dead or something."
"And you can't swallow it whole. It has to be chewed to activate it."
"I'll kill him!"
"You might have to beat Father to the punch."
Virgil nearly gagged as he chewed on the transmitter. "I'll kill him!"
"Okay! I get the idea! You're going to kill him. But you'll never be able to do it one handed. Tell you what, as soon as we get home, I'll hold him down and then you can kill him."
At last Virgil saw some humour in the situation. "You're on!"
"And while we're waiting for them you can be planning just how you're going to do it."
"Something messy."
"Oh!" Scott sounded surprised "I thought you'd at least try to dream up something artistic, something with flair..."
***
John was alerted by a signal from his main console. What he saw elevated his spirits. He quickly activated the communication links between Thunderbirds Five, Two and base. "Father! - Scott's edible transmitter is sending a signal! - And there's Alan's! ... Alan's?"
Alan backed away so that he was no longer visible in the video link between Thunderbird Two, Thunderbird Five and base. He turned scarlet.
Gordon turned to look at him. "You didn't! He's gonna kill you!"
"I-I thought he'd check it when he put his uniform into the wash."
"Alan." Jeff's voice had a no nonsense tone and belied the relief that he was feeling. "I'll want to speak with you when you get home."
"Yes, sir." Alan had a feeling it wouldn't be an agreeable conversation.
"That's if Dad doesn't kill you first!" Gordon couldn't keep the humour out of his voice.
"Thanks!" Alan said sarcastically.
***
Virgil and Scott hadn't spoken for a while. Virgil was humming a tune to himself, trying to keep his mind off his churning stomach.
"That's a neat tune." Scott said. "Did you make it up?"
"Yeah, just now."
"Well when we get home, record it. I'd like a copy."
"Before or after I get my revenge on Alan."
"Are you still going on about that?"
"Yes! His transmitter's made me feel sick." At Scott's laughter Virgil grimaced. "I do. I feel ill!"
Scott stopped laughing. "Really?"
"Really."
"How bad?"
"Not bad. Just enough to be annoying."
"What flavour transmitter were you supposed to have?"
"Chocolate." Virgil said sadly. "And instead I end up with orange, beetroot and liver." Then he cheered up slightly. "I do have some good news though."
"I'd love to here some good news around about now." Scott said firmly.
"At least the lights have stayed on throughout all this."
"Lucky you."
There was a sizzling sound.
"Let me guess?" Scott stated. "The lights just went out?"
"Uh-huh." Virgil was now getting some idea of what Scott had been going through for the last five or so hours. He found a pocket and reached inside, his fingers closing around a flat strip.
All the Tracy boys hated this particular piece of equipment. A strip of luminescent plastic, that when exposed to skin temperature would glow. It wasn't a good light, but bright enough that you could see what your hands were doing. Its big drawback was that it was designed to stick to the forehead, leaving the hands free, and removing it was nearly as bad as removing duct tape. Reluctantly Virgil attached it to his head, realising that his scratches and grazes would make it doubly uncomfortable to remove. He settled back again miserably. "The day's just going from bad to worse."
"Have you got your headlamp on?" Scott asked him.
"Yes."
"Just the icing on the cake." Scott commented darkly. "I'll tell you one thing."
"What's that?"
"Next time someone says that a rescue is going to be easy, Alan can take Thunderbird One. I'm staying home!"
"Yeah. Me too. Gordon can take Thunderbird Two."
"Right! So we both pledge that on the next easy rescue we let our brothers take our craft."
"Agreed!"
They were silent for a short time.
"The game will be over now. I wonder how the Tigers got on." Scott mused.
"The way our lucks been going they will have lost and lost big." Virgil resumed his humming. Then he stopped. He let out a quiet chuckle.
"Okay, let me in on the joke." Scott said.
"I know how I'm going to get my revenge on Alan."
"Oh, yes? Something messy?"
"Depends on how Alan reacts. It's definitely something artistic. But I'll need your help - and Gordon's."
"And Gordon's? Alan's going to be in big trouble. So what's the plan...?"