"Who are you?"
Scott felt his mouth go dry at his brother's words. "What?"
Gordon gave an uneasy laugh. "I know I've got a sick sense of humour, Virgil. But even I don't think this is funny."
Virgil wasn't laughing has he moved his gaze to Gordon. He frowned. "Who are you?" he repeated.
Once again Scott and Gordon looked at each other. This time their concern was clear to anyone who was looking at them.
"Let me in there." The doctor gently eased Scott out of his seat so she could see Virgil better. "What's your name?" she asked quietly.
Virgil thought for a moment. "Virgil?" he said uncertainly.
"That's right," she replied with a reassuring smile.
"He's just heard it about 100 times," Scott interjected.
The doctor ignored him. "Do you know what day it is?"
"N-No."
The doctor tried again. "Do you know where you are?"
"No. Where am I?"
"In a hospital."
"Why are the walls made of cloth?"
"It's a field hospital, Virgil." The doctor had one last attempt. "Who do you work for?"
Virgil bit his lip and shook his head.
"Oh, heck," Gordon sat back. "What's happened to him?"
"I don't know," the doctor admitted. "I'm into mud and blood medicine, not neurology."
"Can you remember anything?" Scott was leaning over the doctor's shoulder.
"N-No. Sorry. What's my last name?"
"Uh," Scott looked anxiously at the doctor and cursed International Rescue's need for secrecy. "I can't tell you now. Later, when we're alone."
"Why?" Virgil asked, bewildered.
The doctor turned to Scott, and he took a step back to give her room. "I'd like to give him another examination, if you'll both excuse me."
"Uh. Yeah. Okay," Scott stammered and he followed Gordon back to their place at the side of the tent.
"What's happened?" Gordon hissed.
"I don't know," Scott admitted. "Could you see any injuries?"
"No head ones, apart from the grazes. Do you think it's amnesia?"
"Seems like it," Scott grimaced. "Look. Once he's got the all clear to go home, I'll take off and bring Alan back. You do what you can to get him comfortable in Thunderbird Two and then Alan can sit with him while you fly home. Are you happy with that?"
"Suits me. I'd be happier if it were Virgil piloting Thunderbird Two though."
"You and me both," Scott agreed. He turned quickly when Gordon nudged him. "Doctor?"
"I'm sorry," she started with. "I don't have the proper medical equipment here to make a full diagnosis."
"But it looks like amnesia?" Gordon asked.
"I would assume so. Hopefully it's only temporary. I'd suggest shipping him off to the nearest hospital, but whatever treatment your organisation can get him is bound to be better than what they can. Do you want to take him home?"
"We were discussing that," Scott told her. "I'm going to fly back to base to pick up a relief pilot. We'll shift Virgil into the sickbay of Thunderbird Two and Gordon will stay with him until we get back. That way he won't be left alone for too long."
"There's only three of you here?" she asked incredulously. "I'd assumed there would be a small army."
"No, ma'am. Only us three," Gordon told her.
"Amazing…" she said reflectively, "and you've done so much…" she shook herself out of her reverie. "That sounds like a good plan… Keep talking to him," she told Gordon. "Tell him things he should know. About his family, background, and work. Try to jog his memory. Tell him things you couldn't tell him with me here," she gave a wry grin.
He managed one in return. "Looks like Virgil's the ultimate secret keeper at the moment."
"Gordon!" Scott scolded, sickened by the idea.
"Well!" Gordon said indignantly. "Are you going or not?"
"Yeah," Scott said. He walked back to Virgil's bedside. "I'm leaving, Virgil," he told the patient. "I've told Gordon to look after you. They're going to shift you into Thunderbird Two."
"Thunderbird Two?"
"It's, ah, she's," Scott felt as if his throat was clamping shut. "You tell him, Gordon. I'll be back as soon as I can."
"F-A-B."
Gordon and the doctor got Virgil safely into Thunderbird Two's sickbay. Once she was convinced her patient was safe the doctor stood back and surveyed her surroundings, taking in the sterile conditions and high tech equipment. "Wow. This place makes the tent look like a fleapit. I can see he's in good hands."
"Oh, yes," Gordon said confidently. "We take care of all our patients. And if that patient happens to be one of our own, he gets five star service all the way."
"I can believe it." The doctor looked at her watch. "I'd like to stay and see what I can do to help, but I've got to see about ensuring the survivors are going to be okay. You know, check sanitary arrangements, that kind of thing. I'd better be going."
"I'll show you out," Gordon offered. "I'll only be a minute, Virgil. Don't worry."
"Goodbye, Virgil," the doctor said softly. "I hope things work out for you."
"Thank you," Virgil said. The words came out more as a croak than as recognisable speech.
"You're welcome," she replied, with a comforting smile.
Gordon showed her to the door.
They were at the hatch leading from Thunderbird Two to the outside world, when she stopped. She felt in a pocket. "Look, I know how your organisation feels about secrecy, but if it's at all possible I'd like to know how he gets on." She produced a card, which she gave to Gordon. "My email address is on there. If you're allowed, will you contact me?"
"I can't see any problems with that." He took the card and looked at the name on it - Doctor Kershaw. He suddenly realised that up to that point he hadn't known her name. "I only hope I can give you good news."
"I do too. International Rescue has helped so many people today, it doesn't seem fair…" There was a shout from the vicinity of one of the tents and they could see someone being assisted inside. "I'd better go."
"Thank you," Gordon said sincerely. He gave her a quick wave goodbye and hurried back to the sick bay. "That wasn't too long, was it?" he said, trying to sound cheerful. "Now we'll have to wait. It'll take Scott about an hour to get back. Then Alan can sit with you and I'll fly us home."
"Scott won't fly with us?" Virgil asked.
"If you want him to, he'd probably gladly stay with you."
"No! You won't let him, will you… Gordon?"
"You don't want Scott?" Gordon couldn't understand this attitude.
"Can't you stay with me?" Virgil asked plaintively.
"Me?"
Virgil nodded.
"But I'm your co-pilot…" Gordon started to say, then something clicked in his brain. "Better the devil you know than the devil you don't, huh. Even if you think you don't know me that well. Okay. I don't mind. In the meantime we'd better start on the doctor's prescription. What can I tell you?"
"Who am I?" Virgil asked anxiously. "You say my first name's Virgil, but what's my last name?"
"Tracy."
"Tracy?"
"Yes. Your name is Virgil Tracy."
"Why couldn't you tell me before?"
"Because you belong to… we belong to… you, Scott and I belong to International Rescue…"
"International Rescue? What's that?"
"We're an organisation that rescues people. If anyone is in danger, anywhere in the world, we can usually rescue them. But our equipment is top-secret. If some bad guy got his hands on it he could cause a lot of harm to a lot of people. So we don't tell people who we are and where we live."
"Where do we live?"
"On Tracy Island, in the South Pacific Ocean."
"Tracy Island?" Virgil recognised the name.
"Yep. There's Scott, John, you, me and Alan. We're International Rescue. Our father is International Rescue's Commander."
"Our father?"
Gordon nodded. "That's right, Virgil. I'm your brother."
"You're my…" the realisation appeared to hit Virgil hard.
"Are you okay?" Gordon asked worriedly.
Virgil was staring at him as if he were something from out of space. "My brother?"
Just under an hour had passed.
A light flashed simultaneously with a buzzer.
"There's the doorbell," Gordon said cheerfully. "I'd better go put the welcome mat out." He hesitated. "Will you be okay here alone for a couple of minutes?"
Virgil nodded slowly.
"I won't be long," Gordon promised. "You sure you're okay?"
"Yes."
Gordon met Alan just inside the access way to Thunderbird Two. "Where's Scott?"
"Packing up Mobile Control. He wants to be able to check up on Virgil and then head straight home... How is Virgil?"
Gordon shook his head. "No change. He knows more than he did before, but only because I've been yammering away for the last hour."
"What have you told him?"
"Oh, about the family. A bit of our background. His education. International Rescue. I was going to start telling him about some of our rescues on the way home…"
Alan nodded.
"I've also told him that your hobbies are flower arranging and tapestry work, and that Scott is a homicidal maniac that we let out for good behaviour."
"Gordon! You didn't!" Alan was annoyed. "This is serious. You realise he'll probably believe you!"
"Of course I didn't," Gordon said in irritation. "It was a joke! Credit me with more sense than that, Alan." He turned angrily on his younger brother. "Do you know how hard this last hour has been? I've been rabbiting on about our family and his life to someone who should know more about it than I do! I've had to tell him about things that he already knows! I've had to repeat that he's got four brothers and that you and I are the youngest at least 10 times!"
"Oh," Alan said abashedly. "Sorry."
Gordon sighed in regret. "It's okay, Alan. Sorry I yelled at you. I guess the shock's starting to hit me. I keep hoping it's a nightmare and I'm going to wake up soon."
They reached the door to the sick-bay. "Gordon?" Alan said slowly. "D'ya think we could swing it that you'll fly Thunderbird Two and I'll take One home?"
"Why?"
"Because that was not one of Scott's better flights. I think he'd be happier sitting here with Virgil."
"He might be, but I don't know that Virgil would. I promised him that I'd make you fly Two and I'd stay with him."
"And he agreed to that?"
"Yeah. Frightening isn't it. Not like the Virgil we know."
"Sounds like even Virgil doesn't know the Virgil we know," Alan said sombrely.
"Do you think Scott will be okay flying Thunderbird One?" Gordon asked in concern.
"I would think so; he's just got other things on his mind. You know Dad was all set to come back with us? He would've if Scott had stayed on the dirt long enough. I barely had enough time to board myself." Alan looked in askance at the door. "Do you think it's wise for me to see him now? Maybe it'd be better if I waited until we got home."
"Don't you want to see him?"
"I don't want to see him like this."
"Alan," Gordon said sympathetically. "You're going to have to face this now. Maybe it'll be the catalyst he'll need to come around. If you waitm, he'll be facing you along with most of our family. He's frightened enough as it is; don't force him to meet a whole group of people he doesn't even remember."
"I don't think I ever remember seeing Virgil frightened," Alan said quietly.
"Me neither. But he is now. And I've left him alone too long. Are you coming?"
"I guess I've got no choice, have I?"
"Sorry, Alan. I think it'll be for the best. Are you ready?" Gordon asked.
"Can you ever be ready to be re-introduced to your brother?" Alan replied.
"I would doubt it," Gordon told him. "Come on."
The door to the sickbay slid back.
Gordon plastered a smile onto his face and re-entered the room. "How's it going, Virgil?" He looked back to where his other brother was hesitating in the hallway. "Come on!" he mouthed.
Alan took a deep breath to steady his nerves and forced himself into the room. "Hiya, Virgil." He stopped just inside the door.
Gordon grabbed Alan by the sleeve, pulling him closer to the cot. "Do you know who this is?"
Virgil looked at Alan, frowned, and shook his head.
Alan felt as if his stomach had dropped through the floor of Thunderbird Two. "I'm Alan."
"A-Alan?"
"That's right," Gordon nodded helpfully. "Remember I told you about Alan."
"He's the youngest?"
"That's right," Gordon said reassuringly. "What else can you remember?"
"He's going to fly us home?"
"That's right, Virgil," Alan nodded vigorously. Too vigorously. "Once Scott's been in to see you again, we'll head home and you can see the rest of the family."
"Scott." And both his brothers caught a hint of dismay in Virgil's voice.
As if on cue, Scott entered the room. "Any change?"
"No," Gordon replied.
Scott leant on the end of the bed. "How're you feeling, Virgil?"
"Okay," Virgil said uneasily.
"We were telling him that we'd head home once you'd seen him," Alan gabbled. "He knows I'm going to fly Thunderbird Two and Gordon's going to sit with him."
Scott frowned. He looked at Virgil in concern. He could see the fear in his eyes. He came to a decision. "Alan. How about you flying Thunderbird One, and Gordon can take Thunderbird Two. I'll stay here with Virgil."
Alan and Gordon glanced at each other uneasily. Virgil tensed up."Ah, we were discussing that," Gordon began.
"And we don't think it's a good idea," Alan added quickly.
Scott redirected his frown to the two youngest. "Why?"
"Um… ah…" Alan stuttered.
"You're a better pilot than Alan," Gordon began.
Eager to make as little fuss as possible, Alan agreed.
"You'll get more speed out of Thunderbird One," Gordon continued on. "You'll get home ages before we do, and you can explain the situation to everyone. You know more about it than Alan does."
"Yes! That's right!" Alan was nodding vigorously again.
"And you can take Virgil's medical notes. It'll give Brains plenty of time to examine them before he sees Virgil." Gordon held out the slim folder to Scott.
Scott looked at him curiously, before taking the folder. "Well… I guess that makes sense… Are you okay with this, Virgil?"
Virgil relaxed and managed a small nod.
"Okay…" Scott made a reluctant move to the door. "I guess we'd better get cracking… Can I do anything before I leave?"
Gordon sensed Virgil tense up again. "No, everything's fine, Scott. Get going and we'll see you at home."
"Okay," Scott repeated. He hesitated at the door. "You'll be okay, Virgil. Alan's a good pilot and Gordon will take care of you." He smiled an uncertain smile and left.
Eager to escape, Alan followed him closely. "We'll be taking off in five minutes," he called over his shoulder.
Gordon started storing things away in preparation for the flight. Then he began to strap Virgil into the cot.
"What are you doing?"
Gordon stopped and looked at Virgil. "Putting your safety harness on."
"Is that necessary? Isn't he… Alan? Isn't he any good?"
Gordon grinned. "That sounds more like the Virgil we know and love. You're never happy letting anyone else fly your plane. Alan's a good pilot. You're in safe hands." He double-checked Virgil's harness, before sitting in a neighbouring seat and doing up his own safety harness.
"Then why do we have to be strapped in?"
"Standard safety practise. Just in case there's a malfunction."
"Malfunction?"
"Relax. You've got nothing to worry about. It's a precautionary measure."
"Flight Deck to Sickbay." Virgil jumped when Alan's voice appeared out of nowhere.
Gordon patted him reassuringly on the arm. "Go ahead, Alan."
"Are you ready for lift-off?"
"We're ready down here."
"Okay. I'm requesting clearance and then we're heading home."
Gordon kept on talking to Virgil during the launch. Trying to keep him calm. He could see that his brother was becoming more and more jumpy. He started telling him about International Rescue's first rescue…
"Gordon?"
"Yeah, Virgil?"
"Would you mind if you didn't tell me anything else new at the moment? My head hurts."
Gordon undid his own safety harness and shifted his position so he was sitting on the edge of Virgil's bed. "Sure. Not a problem. I'll stay here, and if you have any questions you can ask me. Okay?"
"Okay." Virgil closed his eyes. He lay still, trying to pretend that he was sleeping. Sleep! How could he sleep when his mind was whirling with so many unanswered questions and facts that seemed to merge into one another, none of them really making any sense?
At least his headache had nearly gone.
Who were these people? Three of them said they knew him. The woman had seemed to be nice, but hadn't appeared to know him at all.
Who were the men? His brothers?Gordon: Virgil decided that he quite liked Gordon. He had an easy smile that Virgil found comforting. He was friendly and reassuring with an air that eventually everything would be okay. He felt he could trust Gordon.
Alan: Seemed to be little more than a teenager, though Virgil supposed he must be older than that. Had Gordon mentioned an age? Virgil thought so, but couldn't remember. Alan had seemed to be almost frightened, an emotion Virgil could currently relate to very well. Once the young man ceased to be frightened, perhaps he could like Alan.
Scott: He wasn't sure about Scott. Obviously the oldest, with a domineering attitude. Officious was the word to describe Scott. A bit too fond of ordering his brothers about for Virgil's liking…
Brothers? These were his brothers? And wasn't there another?
And they were all part of some secret organisation… Virgil didn't like the sound of this. Why the secrecy? Because some 'bad guys' might get hold of their equipment? What was so special about a few planes…?
Gordon sat there in silence, a worried frown on his face. He hadn't enjoyed this last hour. He hadn't enjoyed it one bit! How would the rest of his family react? Alan had possibly given an indication. Uncertainty coupled with a certain amount of fear.
If Virgil's condition wasn't temporary, then this was going to place a large strain on all the family. Gordon looked at his brother, who appeared to be trying to sleep. Never mind the family, what was it like for Virgil? What was it like to suddenly realise that you had no idea who you were and who the people were around you? What did it feel like to be told that you had a large family that you had absolutely no recollection of? How did it feel to be told that you were part of a secret organisation, and that no one knew precisely what had happened to you to make you lose your memory?
Gordon's musings were halted when Virgil opened his eyes.
"Gordon?"
"Yes?"
"What did you mean by 'my plane'?"
"Huh?" Gordon scratched his head as he tried to recall previous conversations.
"You said that I wasn't happy letting someone else fly my plane."
"Oh!" Gordon understood. "I guess, technically speaking, none of the Thunderbird craft belongs to any one individual. But each of us Tracy boys has a particular craft that we're in charge of and we've come to think of that craft as being our own. For instance, mine is Thunderbird Four."
"Thunderbird Four," Virgil frowned in thought. "Was that the space ship?"
"No, that's Thunderbird Three. That's Alan's."
"The transporter?"
"No, that's this one. Thunderbird Two. Thunderbird Four is the submarine. Thunderbird Two carries it in its pod. I'm an aquanaut."
"Aquanaut," Virgil tried the word out.
"Yep. You and Scott are pilots. John and Alan are astronauts. And Scott helps co-pilot Thunderbird Three."
"Scott," Virgil repeated. "He's… bossy isn't he?"
Gordon laughed. "He can be. But that's his job when we're on a rescue. He's the Rescue Co-ordinator. If he sounded a little terse it's because he's had a tough couple of days with this last rescue."
Virgil didn't look convinced.
"Trust me. Right now Scott's worried sick about you… We all are."
Virgil shifted uncomfortably. "Am I going to get my memory back?"
"I don't know. We don't know what's wrong. We don't know how far you fell, or how hard. The field hospital didn't have the right equipment to do a proper examination. Once we get home Brains'll check you over."
"Brains," Virgil frowned in thought again. "He's the engineer?"
"Bingo. Give the man a prize!" Gordon said gleefully.
"Then why's he going to 'check me over'?"
"He's got a medical degree as well. There's not much he doesn't know about."
"Do you think he can fix this?" Virgil tapped his head.
Gordon hesitated before answering. "I don't know, Virgil. This is something new to all of us. I don't know if he'll have the answers." Then he gave a reassuring smile. "But you can rest assured that he's not going to be happy until he finds one. If Brains can't fix you, no one can." Gordon sounded confident, but for once in his life he did not have complete faith in Brains' abilities."