Chapter Ten
When Alan awoke the following day it was well into the morning. His still sleep-fogged brain wondered briefly if it had all been a dream, discovering he was a metahuman, Gear being here on Tracy Island, all of it.
But as the fogginess of sleep began to fade away and he became more aware of the world he knew that it hadn't been a dream. He could still feel the energy inside him yet somehow it was different now. Calmer! Instead of randomly pulsing and surging straining against the barrier inside that contained it the power was quiet. Indeed it was as calm as a mountain lake a tranquil reservoir of power that he could tap into and direct whenever he wanted to.
Looking over at his bedside alarm clock Alan blinked in shock and surprise when he saw what time it was.
1145 hrs!
It had barely been 2100 hrs when he'd gone to bed, all the clocks on Tracy Island – save for the antique grandfather clock in the library – were digital and set to the twenty four hour time format. I must have been asleep for almost fifteen hours, he thought in shock, I must have been really, really tired.
Getting up he decided he would have a shower before getting dressed and heading downstairs.
When he arrived downstairs Alan found everyone pretty much where he would have expected them to be. Dad and Uncle Peter were sitting at the poolside table a laptop open between them showing rows of figures and a graph which he guess was related to Tracy Inc. Gordon was sitting at the cocktail bar talking with Onaha while sipping some orange juice. Scott and Virgil were in the swimming pool playing water volleyball with Tin-Tin standing on the sideline acting as referee. Her father Kyrano was doing some gardening tending to the ornamental boarder plants and cutting back creepers that were trying to sneak into the flowerbeds from the jungle that dominated most of the island.
For a moment Alan was confused that he couldn't see Brains, Fermat or Gear – if he was still here – but then he realised that they would most likely be in Brains lab.
That was when Gordon noticed his presence.
"Well hello sleepy head," he said teasingly to his younger brother. As Gordon spoke Jeff looked over from where he was going through a quarterly sales report with Peter.
"Good morning Alan," Jeff said. "And how are you feeling this morning?"
"Fine I guess," Alan replied wondering if he should mention anything about how the energy inside of him felt. He decided not to as it would too hard to explain. "I cannot believe I slept so long," he added fishing some sunglasses out of his jeans and putting them on before sitting down on one of the sun loungers.
"Believe it," Jeff replied glad that Alan did indeed seem to be all right. He'd been getting worried when he hadn't shown any sign of waking up this morning – even when they called him for breakfast. It was so unlike Alan that he had been starting to think that something was seriously wrong with his youngest son despite Gear's assurance that it was quiet common for newly emerged metahumans to be in such a coma like sleep for an indefinite period of time. According to Gear it was one of the means by which the body recovered from such a sudden massive change.
"Have I missed anything," Alan asked.
"Nope. Except that whenever we've seen them Gear, Brains and Fermat have all be chatting about this scientific theory or other," Gordon answered. Alan smiled easily imagining that happening.
"Are you hungry Alan," Onaha asked. "I'll do a sandwich for you if you are."
"That would be kind of you Onaha thank you," Alan replied remembering that he hadn't eaten since that soup last night and was now absolutely starving.
"Its no trouble," Onaha replied before leaving the cocktail bar and going inside heading to the kitchen to quickly fix Alan a sandwich as he hadn't eaten today and it would be another hour or so before she even started on dinner.
Back outside Alan leaned back on the lounger to enjoy just lying in the sun doing nothing. It was such a refreshing change from work, work, and work which was all he got at Wharton Academy. After Onaha returned with the sandwich – or knowing her sandwiches – for him and he'd eaten them he decided he would go for a little walk. He had some things to sort out in his head, things to do with him being a metahuman and he had long ago discovered that going for a walk usually helped him clear his head.
The Hood Submarine
Approaching Tracy Island
The Hood entered the control centre of his submarine with a faint frown of puzzlement on his features. He had been aroused from his mediations by a call from Transom and since he knew that Transom would never disturb him unless it was important he came to the control room immediately.
"Yes Transom what is it," he asked.
"Sir we are approaching the island we tracked Thunderbird One to but there is a potential problem preventing us from approaching closer," Transom reported. "The detection systems protecting the island seem to be operating at much higher power than expected. They possibly have enough power to penetrate our stealth systems."
"Weapons systems are armed and ready," Mullion added. "We can destroy the main complex from here."
The Hood sighed not surprised by Transom's report it was only to be expected that after finding the nanotrackers the Thunderbirds would put there detection systems on high alert but Mullion's attitude irritated him. Mullion always liked employing direct force, in many ways he was the a-typical metahuman thug. Still he was useful when brawn was required which was the only reason the Hood put up with him.
"Mullion why would I want to destroy what will soon be mine," he asked. "In any case attacking the main structure would not eliminate the Thunderbirds. It would be almost impossible to force them to leave the island but it would take no effort at all to let them go."
"I do not understand," Mullion replied inwardly bracing himself for a telepathic or telekinetic attack. When explaining something that to him was perfectly obvious the boss sometimes used his incredible mental powers to get the point across, usually in the form of a mind lock or a telekinetic shove into a bulkhead.
"International Rescue exists for one purpose, to rescue people in danger," the Hood replied in the tone one would use when lecturing a child. "To get the Thunderbirds to leave the island all we have to do is give them a victim who needs there help. Transom." As usual Transom anticipated his command.
"Tracing transmissions to Thunderbird Five," she reported manipulating her controls. "I have the stations co-ordinates, locking into fire control system. Missiles ready opening launch tube."
"Fire," the Hood ordered. Transom pressed a button and with a whoosh of propellant a missile launched from the submarine.
Breaking the ocean's surface almost immediately the missile shot spaceward, its own stealth capacity and speed making it invisible to even the Thunderbirds scanners. In moments the missile reached escape velocity and left the atmosphere heading straight for the disc-shaped International Rescue space station.
The missile impacted the stations outer ring seconds later and detonated. The explosion of the warhead causing a serious breach in the hull immediately there came a second much larger explosion as a mixture of an exploding oxygen storage tank and explosive decompression caused the breach to widen tearing apart a massive chunk of the stations outer ring.
Thunderbird Five
Moments Earlier
Sitting at the main console in the control room of Thunderbird Five John Tracy found that his attention was not focused on any of the monitor screens or even out the window at the stars he loved so much. No he was thinking and worrying about Alan and how he'd turned out to be a metahuman.
Dad had called up this morning to give him an update on what was happening and filled him in on the powers that Alan had. Dad had also told him that Alan was deeply asleep – almost in a coma – and showed no sign of waking up anytime soon. For one of the few times in his life John wished he wasn't on Thunderbird Five but was down on the planet so he could comfort his baby brother, let him know that everything was alright.
He started to reach for the communications unit to call dad to see if anything new had happened when there came a horrendous roar and the stations artificial gravity went berserk.
John was thrown from his chair to slam into the deck hard. All around consoles exploded in sparks and flame, debris rained down and alarms screamed at bone jarring volume. Overhead the main lights flickered once then died as the station lost main power, dull red emergency lights came on immediately barely penetrating the smoke filled gloom of the control room.
John staggered back to his feet as gravity reasserted itself and looked at the few still functioning systems readouts and his eyes widened in a mixture of horror and disbelief. Outer ring sections three through five were gone. Main power was out the fusion core that powered the station going into emergency shut down. But most worrying was the readout that showed that the stations orbit had been destabilised by the explosion. Thrusters around what was left of the outer ring were firing in an attempt to stabilise the station but they didn't seem to be having much luck.
Flicking on the communications channel he spoke quickly.
"Thunderbird Five to Tracy Island. Mayday, mayday, mayday," he said. And then not sure it they heard him he activated the stations automated distress signal. Before setting about putting the fires out and assessing the full extent of the damage to Thunderbird Five.
Brains Lab
Tracy Island, A Few Moments Before
Brains found working with Gear an interesting, rewarding and very eye opening experience. Along with Fermat they were sat at the main worktable in Brains laboratory working to develop nanobots that could be used on the Thunderbirds for a variety of purposes one of which was to avoid a repeat performance of the nanotrackers found on Thunderbird One's hull. The practical knowledge of nanotechnology that Gear had was proving invaluable and they had already worked out a basic design. Now it was just a matter of refining the design and manufacturing the machine that would create and program the nanobots.
"If we change this circuit slightly it will give the nanobot increased flexibility in carrying out its assigned tasks," Fermat said drawing a circuit diagram.
"Indeed but it would also put a great deal more strain on the processing system," Gear answered. "It might be possible to reconfigure the processor in the bot to cope with the stress."
"We could certainly try," Brains agreed flipping back to the page in the design book that contained the circuit design for the nanobot processors.
Alarms abruptly rent the air and all three jumped before Brains leaped to his feet and raced out of the lab.
"What's going on," Gear asked Fermat.
"That's the alarm. The Thunderbirds are needed somewhere come on," Fermat said leaving the room himself heading through the corridors and passageways to Jeff Tracy's office.
It was only a short run from Brains lab to Jeff Tracy's office. They reached there at the same time that Brains was sitting down in the chair behind the desk. He touched a hidden panel and a palm print scanner slid out from the desk.
"Switching to command and control centre," Brains said putting his hand on the scanner for a few seconds before lifting it clear.
And before Gear's eyes the office changed. The desk moved across the room out the way. Panels opened in the floor and ceiling and banks of consoles and displays rose or lowered. Heavy metal shutters appeared over the windows and the mural of Jeff Tracy and his sons on one wall faded away to be replaced with what looked like alcoves each with a giant portraits of the Tracy's – with the exception of Alan – in International Rescue uniforms.
Looking around the room Gear was impressed by what he had seen very impressed. The Thunderbirds did have some really remarkable technology and if he hadn't known this was here he wouldn't have expected this room to be anything but an office.
Reading information displayed on monitors on the main console, which had risen from the floor in place of Jeff's desk Brains felt his eyes widen in shock when he saw the damage to Thunderbird Five it was a miracle that the station hadn't cracked open like an egg when it had been hit possibly by a meteor.
At that moment Jeff came running in with Scott, Virgil, Gordon and Peter in tow.
"What is it Brains," Jeff asked.
"Thunderbird Five has been severely damaged possibly by meteor impact. Outer ring sections three through five destroyed. Main power has failed. The stations orbit has been destabilised. Possible strike by a m….me…."
"Meteor," Jeff finished for him as he and the boys walked over to their portraits, which immediately along with the whole panel rose out the way to reveal individual lift compartments. As they stepped in the blue light shining down inside the compartments turned to red.
"Thunderbirds are go," Jeff said once they were all in. Doors slid across before the panels slid back down and in unison four lifts dropped down to the silos all heading for the access corridor to Thunderbird Three.
"Preparing launch sequence for Thunderbird Three," Brains said his hands dancing across the consoles. In order to raise the antidetection shield he had to reduce power on the perimeter sensors since the two systems both consumed a lot of power more than the islands generators could supply all at once. It was a problem he'd never been able to solve.
"I better go tell Alan whets happening," Fermat said.
"He went for a walk Fermat so you might not find him," Peter cautioned.
"Don't worry I know where he's most likely to be," Fermat answered before he left the control room.
"Thunderbird Three launch sequence initiated," a computer voice said softly.
Barely a moment later a distant rumbling noise filled the control room as the majestic red rocket that was Thunderbird Three launched from the top of the island indeed from the centre of the ring formed by the library building – a building which had split into three distinct sections and pulled away to facilitate the launch.
As soon as Thunderbird Three cleared the silo its main boosters came on and the great rocket shot spaceward riding on a beautiful pillar of fire. Aboard it Jeff and three of his sons worked to get every ounce of speed out the craft that they could as they needed to get to Thunderbird Five and John Tracy as quickly as possible. For this was a mission like no other.
This mission was personal.