One Hundred and Eight
Scott buckled up the safety harness in the pilot's seat of Thunderbird One.
That had been an easy rescue, as rescues go. Maybe he'd take Thunderbird One for a burn on the way home, give her a chance to stretch her wings...
"Thunderbird One to Thunderbird Two. Everyone set?"
"Nearly, Scott." His brother's voice sailed out of the radio. "We've got one more detail to take care of then we'll be heading off."
"Everyone in one piece?"
"Everyone's just fine. We've all got the required number of hands, feet, ears and eyes."
Another brother's voice came over the airwaves. "We're all shipshape and Bristol fashion, as Gordon might say..."
"No I mightened." Scott heard Gordon retort.
"Okay, I'm taking off now. I'll see you back at base."
"F-A-B, Scott. See you soon."
Virgil turned to his brothers. "Okay, Radio TB2 is about to go on air. Any requests?" He was in a buoyant mood.
"'Splitting Headache' by 'Severed Limb'?" Gordon asked cheerfully.
"Oh, no!" John groaned. "Not that. Do you know how often I have to hear that on Thunderbird Five? It's rubbish!"
"No it's not!" Gordon objected, "It's great!"
"And I don't have it in Thunderbird Two's computer." Virgil told him. "So you'll have to choose something else."
"Are you sure?" Gordon asked slyly.
"Why, what have you been up to?" Virgil asked warily as he ran through the music database. "Who said you could load your music onto my computer?!"
"I thought Thunderbird Two was mine for a while there. So I thought I could load whatever I liked."
"Well it's not yours. Why have you password protected it?"
"So you wouldn't try to delete it. C'mon Virg. You said we could choose what we want. I want to hear that."
"Okay." Virgil said grudgingly. "Sorry John. What do you want to hear?"
"Do you need to ask?" Gordon said with a mock groan.
"No. We've got time for one planet. Which one, John?"
"'Mars'. I feel like listening to 'Mars'."
"Finally communicating with those Rock Snakes are you?" Gordon laughingly asked.
Virgil was scrolling through the database. "Holst... The Planets... 'Mars'. And I choose..." he entered his selection. "Are you both ready?"
He received twin affirmative murmurs. He set Thunderbird Two's VTOL jets into action.
Gordon's piece of 'music' started playing.
Virgil grimaced as he activated the radio. "Thunderbird Two to Thunderbird Five."
"Thunderbird Five. Go ahead Virgil."
"We're leaving danger zone now, Alan."
"Good. Hey is that 'Splitting Headache' I can hear? Good choice Gordon."
"Thanks."
"It's already giving me a splitting headache," John moaned.
"We'll get it out of the way and then we won't have to listen to it again," Virgil tried to reassure him.
"Don't know about that," Alan informed him. "It's top of the charts. I hear it at least once every five minutes on Thunderbird Five's radios."
"Brilliant." John said unenthusiastically. "Do you think it'll be out of the charts by the time I get back up there."
"Probably not!" Alan said brightly. "I'll leave you guys to your entertainment. Call me up when you're nearly home."
"Okay, Alan. Talk to you later. Out." Virgil disconnected the radio conversation. Then he groaned. "You know, I was hearing better sounds when I was deaf and could only hear the tinnitus!"
Gordon started singing along. "I want to die, my head is full of tacks, I've got a splitting headache from where you hit me with the axe."
John put his fingers in his ears.
Virgil could only tolerate it for the first verse and the chorus. He turned it off.
"Hey! You murdered it!" Gordon complained.
"It was a mercy killing." John assured him. "That guy was in pain."
"Sorry Gordon. I couldn't concentrate on piloting Thunderbird Two and listen to that as well."
"The problem is that you guys are too old. You can't appreciate good music."
"I can," Virgil told him, "and that's not music. Good or otherwise. I'm still trying to work out precisely what it is."
Gordon started to sulk. "It's not fair! I'll have to listen to what you've chosen!"
"Bring your headset next time and you can listen to it to your hearts content." John suggested. "In the meantime Virgil and I have voted that we don't want to listen to that. You're outnumbered."
"You can't really like it, can you?" Virgil asked as he made a slight adjustment to Thunderbird Two's course. "There's no tune, the vocalist can't sing and they yell the same words over and over again. It's repetitious!"
"I'll bet they said the same thing about the "Halleluiah Chorus"." Gordon said petulantly. "Have you listened to its lyrics lately?"
"At least it has a tune."
"A repetitious one."
"Can we listen to 'Mars' now?" John asked, trying to prevent an argument.
"Okay John." Virgil activated the computer again. "I'll be pleased to listen to that..."
***
Scott checked his computer. He was in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Miles from habitation and any human life. He grinned to himself and pulled back on the throttle.
Thunderbird One screamed skywards. He felt the g-forces build up before he reversed direction sending her spinning into a dive.
With a whoop of joy he straightened out before sending the craft into a barrel roll.
Once again he headed for the heavens, watching as the sky darkened from pale blue through darker shades, growing closer to Earth's upper atmosphere.
His ascent was topped with a parabolic arc and he briefly experienced the sensation of weightlessness, then he was accelerating back down towards the ocean below.
The white caps were just below his fuselage when he finally straightened out, skimming along the top of the waves.
"Thunderbird Five to Thunderbird One."
"Thunderbird One!" Scott couldn't keep the smile out of his voice.
"You okay? I'm picking up some drastic altitude changes."
"Just playing, Alan. For once I'm enjoying myself."
"Why didn't you do that when I was with you?"
"What? When you were unconscious?"
"No I mean..." Alan realised that Scott was pulling his leg. "So you're glad to be back in the saddle!"
"You got it! Nothing like being in control of a plane, just being in control, and watching the world flash by..."
***
Jeff Tracy sat at his desk.
He was holding the Babelet.
He scrolled through the completed voting forms. Despite his desire to keep the results secret he still knew exactly how each member of the family had voted. He could tell by the manner in which the ticks had been placed.
Kyrano's tick was small and in the corner of the box, as if he were reticent about voting.
Tin-Tin's was a delicate, ladylike tick.
His mother's was strong, though slightly tremulous, a result of the arthritis that she refused to allow to beat her.
Brains had ticked his box twice. Even in the written form he stuttered.
Gordon had drawn a smiley face.
John's tick had skittered across the box, a result of him trying to hold back the sneeze.
Alan's had been done at speed - racing from one side of the box to the other.
Virgil had used his left hand, and as was his wont when ticking with his left hand, had done the tick backwards... with a flourish at the end.
Scott's was strong, sure, confident and in control.
Jeff looked at the last tick in the group. He knew who this one belonged to because it had been initialled.
J.T.
Jefferson Tracy.
He, he had to admit, was not surprised that each tick had been in the same box, each vote had been for the same result.
Each person had voted for the same thing.
'I believe International Rescue should continue'.
Jeff smiled and laid down the Babelet.
International Rescue would continue!
Thunderbirds Were Go!
***
***
The end
***
At last!!!!
What a marathon - I think I've worn out my running shoes.
I hope everyone's enjoyed reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it. And that we've all learnt something, I know I have.
Thanks to those who took the time to send me reviews. They were all very much appreciated, especially from those who reviewed regularly.
Thank you all.
Purupuss
Kindness is a language that the deaf can hear and the blind can see.
Anon
Scott buckled up the safety harness in the pilot's seat of Thunderbird One.
That had been an easy rescue, as rescues go. Maybe he'd take Thunderbird One for a burn on the way home, give her a chance to stretch her wings...
"Thunderbird One to Thunderbird Two. Everyone set?"
"Nearly, Scott." His brother's voice sailed out of the radio. "We've got one more detail to take care of then we'll be heading off."
"Everyone in one piece?"
"Everyone's just fine. We've all got the required number of hands, feet, ears and eyes."
Another brother's voice came over the airwaves. "We're all shipshape and Bristol fashion, as Gordon might say..."
"No I mightened." Scott heard Gordon retort.
"Okay, I'm taking off now. I'll see you back at base."
"F-A-B, Scott. See you soon."
Virgil turned to his brothers. "Okay, Radio TB2 is about to go on air. Any requests?" He was in a buoyant mood.
"'Splitting Headache' by 'Severed Limb'?" Gordon asked cheerfully.
"Oh, no!" John groaned. "Not that. Do you know how often I have to hear that on Thunderbird Five? It's rubbish!"
"No it's not!" Gordon objected, "It's great!"
"And I don't have it in Thunderbird Two's computer." Virgil told him. "So you'll have to choose something else."
"Are you sure?" Gordon asked slyly.
"Why, what have you been up to?" Virgil asked warily as he ran through the music database. "Who said you could load your music onto my computer?!"
"I thought Thunderbird Two was mine for a while there. So I thought I could load whatever I liked."
"Well it's not yours. Why have you password protected it?"
"So you wouldn't try to delete it. C'mon Virg. You said we could choose what we want. I want to hear that."
"Okay." Virgil said grudgingly. "Sorry John. What do you want to hear?"
"Do you need to ask?" Gordon said with a mock groan.
"No. We've got time for one planet. Which one, John?"
"'Mars'. I feel like listening to 'Mars'."
"Finally communicating with those Rock Snakes are you?" Gordon laughingly asked.
Virgil was scrolling through the database. "Holst... The Planets... 'Mars'. And I choose..." he entered his selection. "Are you both ready?"
He received twin affirmative murmurs. He set Thunderbird Two's VTOL jets into action.
Gordon's piece of 'music' started playing.
Virgil grimaced as he activated the radio. "Thunderbird Two to Thunderbird Five."
"Thunderbird Five. Go ahead Virgil."
"We're leaving danger zone now, Alan."
"Good. Hey is that 'Splitting Headache' I can hear? Good choice Gordon."
"Thanks."
"It's already giving me a splitting headache," John moaned.
"We'll get it out of the way and then we won't have to listen to it again," Virgil tried to reassure him.
"Don't know about that," Alan informed him. "It's top of the charts. I hear it at least once every five minutes on Thunderbird Five's radios."
"Brilliant." John said unenthusiastically. "Do you think it'll be out of the charts by the time I get back up there."
"Probably not!" Alan said brightly. "I'll leave you guys to your entertainment. Call me up when you're nearly home."
"Okay, Alan. Talk to you later. Out." Virgil disconnected the radio conversation. Then he groaned. "You know, I was hearing better sounds when I was deaf and could only hear the tinnitus!"
Gordon started singing along. "I want to die, my head is full of tacks, I've got a splitting headache from where you hit me with the axe."
John put his fingers in his ears.
Virgil could only tolerate it for the first verse and the chorus. He turned it off.
"Hey! You murdered it!" Gordon complained.
"It was a mercy killing." John assured him. "That guy was in pain."
"Sorry Gordon. I couldn't concentrate on piloting Thunderbird Two and listen to that as well."
"The problem is that you guys are too old. You can't appreciate good music."
"I can," Virgil told him, "and that's not music. Good or otherwise. I'm still trying to work out precisely what it is."
Gordon started to sulk. "It's not fair! I'll have to listen to what you've chosen!"
"Bring your headset next time and you can listen to it to your hearts content." John suggested. "In the meantime Virgil and I have voted that we don't want to listen to that. You're outnumbered."
"You can't really like it, can you?" Virgil asked as he made a slight adjustment to Thunderbird Two's course. "There's no tune, the vocalist can't sing and they yell the same words over and over again. It's repetitious!"
"I'll bet they said the same thing about the "Halleluiah Chorus"." Gordon said petulantly. "Have you listened to its lyrics lately?"
"At least it has a tune."
"A repetitious one."
"Can we listen to 'Mars' now?" John asked, trying to prevent an argument.
"Okay John." Virgil activated the computer again. "I'll be pleased to listen to that..."
***
Scott checked his computer. He was in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Miles from habitation and any human life. He grinned to himself and pulled back on the throttle.
Thunderbird One screamed skywards. He felt the g-forces build up before he reversed direction sending her spinning into a dive.
With a whoop of joy he straightened out before sending the craft into a barrel roll.
Once again he headed for the heavens, watching as the sky darkened from pale blue through darker shades, growing closer to Earth's upper atmosphere.
His ascent was topped with a parabolic arc and he briefly experienced the sensation of weightlessness, then he was accelerating back down towards the ocean below.
The white caps were just below his fuselage when he finally straightened out, skimming along the top of the waves.
"Thunderbird Five to Thunderbird One."
"Thunderbird One!" Scott couldn't keep the smile out of his voice.
"You okay? I'm picking up some drastic altitude changes."
"Just playing, Alan. For once I'm enjoying myself."
"Why didn't you do that when I was with you?"
"What? When you were unconscious?"
"No I mean..." Alan realised that Scott was pulling his leg. "So you're glad to be back in the saddle!"
"You got it! Nothing like being in control of a plane, just being in control, and watching the world flash by..."
***
Jeff Tracy sat at his desk.
He was holding the Babelet.
He scrolled through the completed voting forms. Despite his desire to keep the results secret he still knew exactly how each member of the family had voted. He could tell by the manner in which the ticks had been placed.
Kyrano's tick was small and in the corner of the box, as if he were reticent about voting.
Tin-Tin's was a delicate, ladylike tick.
His mother's was strong, though slightly tremulous, a result of the arthritis that she refused to allow to beat her.
Brains had ticked his box twice. Even in the written form he stuttered.
Gordon had drawn a smiley face.
John's tick had skittered across the box, a result of him trying to hold back the sneeze.
Alan's had been done at speed - racing from one side of the box to the other.
Virgil had used his left hand, and as was his wont when ticking with his left hand, had done the tick backwards... with a flourish at the end.
Scott's was strong, sure, confident and in control.
Jeff looked at the last tick in the group. He knew who this one belonged to because it had been initialled.
J.T.
Jefferson Tracy.
He, he had to admit, was not surprised that each tick had been in the same box, each vote had been for the same result.
Each person had voted for the same thing.
'I believe International Rescue should continue'.
Jeff smiled and laid down the Babelet.
International Rescue would continue!
Thunderbirds Were Go!
***
***
The end
***
At last!!!!
What a marathon - I think I've worn out my running shoes.
I hope everyone's enjoyed reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it. And that we've all learnt something, I know I have.
Thanks to those who took the time to send me reviews. They were all very much appreciated, especially from those who reviewed regularly.
Thank you all.
Purupuss
Kindness is a language that the deaf can hear and the blind can see.
Anon