Thunderbirds Blast Off
By Lee Homer
Disclaimer: A collection of short adventures based on various comic strips and original one-shots. All rights reserved. I don't own Thunderbirds.
Ice-Capades
December 2nd 2067
The harsh, unearthly expanse of Antarctica stretched out into the hazy horizon. The low bearing sun shone a brilliant cold glow over the ice glacier, illuminating its crystal-like properties that glistened brightly like diamonds in a Jewellery Shop window. The only sign of life came from within a long, worm-shaped machine that crawled along on a set of four, large caterpillar tracks. The sun shimmered along its olive green hull as it hummed, carving a horizontal line of tracks in the fresh, undisturbed snow. Inside the machine, dressed in thick arctic clothes and gloves, two scientists scanned the horizon ahead. Their environmental systems kept the cabin warm, sheltering them from the sub-zero temperatures outside. They had spent months on the ice, collecting samples and conducting experiments to help aid their research about the long term effects of Global Warming. Despite mankind's history of trying to make the planet, environmentally friendly, recent technological achievements made it impossible for them to commit to it. It was this startling revelation that set up the survey expedition.
The driver kept her eyes on the sheet of snow while her colleague checked the bank of computer instruments on the floor above her. She called up to him, Her long flowing red hair wafted under the powerful heater.
"Let's get some readings from the far side of the glacier," she said as she wrenched the gear stick into second gear.
As the survey tractor curved round, a faint tremor caught the pair off guard. The area of ice they were travelling was unstable, camouflaged by a thick covering of snow. As the rumbling grew louder, the driver called up to her colleague.
"Listen. Do you hear that?"
The distinct sound of crackling emerged from the rumbling sounds. They ran along with the ice sheet, carving a thick wall that branched off into the horizon. They grew loud to the point that the scientists couldn't ignore them. Her male colleague, a taller man with scrawny shoulders and a goatee beard, climbed down from the upper deck. His eyes widened with fear at the threatening sounds.
"What's happening?" he cried, his hands sank into the padded rest of the passenger seat.
Before the driver could utter a word, they watched in horror as the glacier slit apart from expanding cracks. As the ice parted, it created a deep icy ravine. In a panic, unable to steer away from the edge in time, the driver slammed on the breaks. The four tracks locked up, digging into the hardened snow, kicking up large ice chunks with it. The driver jerked the steering wheel hard to her right in the last effort to steer clear of the ice put, but it was too late. There was no escape. The large survey vehicle skidded over the edge and plunged deep into the ice ravine. A mound of snow that collected at the bottom caught them, cushioning their fall. The truck lay there in a heap of damaged metal. It all happened within seconds. When the scientists regained consciousness, they found themselves laying awkwardly inside the overturned cabin. The driver propped herself up against the side of her seat. The room swam around her as she struggled to keep her balance. She sustained a nasty cut to her temple but fortunately didn't receive any broken bones. Her colleague lay there unconscious for the moment. He lay there in a mangled heap by the ladder he had stood on moments before. Struggling against her aching head, the driver reached for her radio and put out a mayday call.
"Mayday, Mayday! This is Global Survey 1. We're in trouble. Repeat...trouble!"
Across the globe in the heart of the South Pacific, Tracy Island basked in the sun. Enthusiastic by the upcoming Christmas holiday, the Tracy family spent the morning decorating the lounge with a large assortment of decorations. Tin-Tin and Gordon decorated their 6ft tree, covering it in sparkling gold and silver tinsel and baubles. Scott and Virgil helped their little brother untangle a large bale of multi-coloured Christmas lights, fastening them to the wall and running them over the tops of their family portraits. Jeff stood over by the rocket painting portrait, chuckling at the banter his sons were throwing at each other. Brains sat by the bookshelf, programming the modifications to his snow machine, a series of pressurised tubes that spat out artificial snow all over the island. It was his gift to the family.
"Hey, Alan! Watch what you're doing with that stapler will you!?" grumbled Scott. "I don't want to be a part of the display!"
"Will you hold still for just a moment!" huffed Alan as he awkwardly trained the staple gun on a scruffy section of the Christmas lights. "Almost done."
"Yeah, today would be nice." Virgil moaned. "I want to have a shot at sampling the punch before Gordon can get at it."
Gordon looked over them and flashed a cheeky smile.
"Look, I'm a sucker for Orange and Cranberry alright?" he said as he reached into the box of decorations and pulled out an ornamental star. "I think this will look brilliant on our new tree, don't you think Dad?"
Before Jeff could reply, he was interrupted by a familiar beeping sound. The eyes on John's wall portrait flashed a brilliant white. The boys sighed and stopped what they were doing as their father took the call.
"Go ahead, John?" he said.
John relayed his report to the family. He had picked the survey's vehicle's distress message just minutes after the two scientists had made the call.
"The scientists are in trouble, father," he said, concluding his report. "They're trapped in an icy ravine without a way out. Their mayday signal was very weak, but I was able to get a fix on their position."
Jeff rubbed his chin in thought. He had heard of the Global Survey Expedition and admired the work they had put into their experiments.
"Those scientists do important work for this planet, we must do everything we can to help them," he said. "Relay their position to Scott once he's airborne."
He then turned to his sons; "Virgil, take Brains with you and launch Thunderbird 2. Take the drilling and excavation equipment with you. Get going, boys!"
"FAB!" replied Scott as he leapt from the step ladder he had perched himself on. "Let's go, guys!"
Several minutes later, Thunderbird 1 rocketed out into the sky on her powerful engines. The sun-kissed her red nose cone, running down the metallic silver fuselage. As the family villa disappeared beneath a thick cloud of rocket fuel and thrust, he levelled off, swivelling back on his gyro-mounted flight seat. Thunderbird 2 blasted off her launch ramp just minutes later. Her nose arched upwards, piercing the veil of wispy white clouds above. The Thunderbirds were off and en route for the harsh Antarctic glacier. Before their departure, Brains and Virgil had loaded up Pod 5 with three of their rescue vehicle. The Transmitter Truck, The Mole and a Recovery Vehicle. Their impressive machines saved a dozen lives in the past, but would they hold up to the unstable ice and snow? So much for a quiet day of Christmas decorating.
Scott Tracy adjusted his instruments to the cold as the vast ice sheet glistened below. A strong wind swept the snow across the ice, creating an alien-looking haze. He could feel the rapid decline in temperature from the thick padded bulkhead of his cockpit. His sensor scanner picked up the emergency beacon which had been given to him by Thunderbird 5. He couldn't wait to complete this rescue. It made him miss the warm comfort of home. It made him appreciate the survey team even more. There was no way he could do their job. Spending countless weeks in cold isolation. He didn't envy it at all. He was thankful for the signal trace though. Without it, he would be flying blind, searching for the survey truck like a needle in a haystack. Suddenly, a deep, black impression appeared in the ice below. From above, it looked like a tear in a fresh loaf of bread. He had successfully found the ravine. Banking sharply, he extended his Thunderbird's wings and dropped her landing skids. Firing his under jets, he gently set his Thunderbird down in a thick pocket of snow.
While he waited for the others to catch up to him, he climbed down from his chair and reached for the storage cabinet behind him. He pulled out a thick, silver arctic coat, complete with thick fur trim and placed it on. A fur hat with ear flaps and a pair of fur mittens complete the ensemble. Scott stared out of the small side window, unable into the ravine. Stabbing a button on the side of his chair, he operated his remote camera device. A hatch opened above the front section of his rocket plane and the small, tube-shaped camera rose from within. It whirred as Scott steered into the ravine by remote control. It hugged the edge of the glacier, dipping its powerful high definition camera lens towards the bottom. As he stared at the small monitor screen in front of him, Scott's features scrunched into a frown. The signal continued to bleep, but his camera could find anything. He couldn't see the truck amongst the heavy mound of snow.
"Nothing. Not even a glint of metal," he muttered. "It was worth a try. Perhaps the Transmitter Truck will have a better job of finding their exact position."
Scott recalled the remote camera, steering it out of the ravine. A few moments after this, he could hear the sonic engines of Thunderbird 2 rumble over him. Virgil and Brains had arrived. Igniting the green transporter's four landing jets, Virgil set his Thunderbird down alongside Scott's rocket plane. There was a gentle thud as the Thunderbird made contact with the densely packed snow below. Brains changed into his arctic gear while Virgil released the pod mechanism. Thunderbird 2 raised on her four telescopic legs, revealing the Pod below. As soon as Virgil changed into his winter gear, The pair made their way down towards the assortment of Pod vehicles. Scott met them outside the Pod and caught them up to speed. The Pod flap lowered, embedding itself in the snow. A sharp cold wind wafted into the pod, circulating its interior. The three men shivered from it as they climbed aboard their machines. Moments later, the first of their machines rumbled to life.
Scott and Brains led the way in the Transmitter Truck. Virgil swiftly followed them in the recovery vehicle. Inside the truck, Scott steered the vehicle through the snow while Brains operated the sensitive equipment. Meanwhile, Virgil sat comfortably in his padded seat as he called out to his brother over the radio.
"I'm going to head out across the Glacier, Scott," he said. "I'll take up position once I'm there."
"FAB, Virgil. We're going to try and home in on their exact position," Scott replied enthusiastically.
Suddenly, the Transmitter truck rolled to a stop, just meters away from the ravine. Scott cut the motors so Brains could start a sounding. Pressing a series of buttons, Brains switched on the transmitter machine. The large silver dish which was mounted on the back of the truck began to rotate slowly from left to right. As it moved, a bright light twinkled from the end of its antenna as flashed skywards towards the turbulent sky above. Brains sat there, focussing his attention on a weak signal. It bounced across his scanner screen like a pulsating heartbeat. It was faint and barely readable. Scott looked over his shoulder towards him as the beeping sound echoed throughout the cabin.
"Anything, Brains?"
"It sure is a weak signal, Scott," Brains moaned. "It'll take me some time to get an e-exact fix on it. Those scientists must be a long way under the snow and ice."
"Well, do the best you can," Scott replied. "They've got to be around here somewhere."
Then, Scott's voice broke off to the sound of a faint cry which crackled over the radio. They listened to it intently.
"Please help. Mayday! Mayday! Is anybody there! Calling, International Rescue! Do you read me!?"
The two men shared a brief smile, relieved at their discovery, but the danger was far from over. Scott swung round towards the radio and called out to them. Calmly, he did his best to reassure the trapped scientists.
"This is International Rescue. Keep broadcasting. We are tracking your signal and a rescue vehicle will be with you soon."
But the voice on the end of the radio didn't like the sound of that idea. In a distressed tone, the Anxious driver persuaded them not to try the attempt. The urgency in her voice sent chills through Scott's body. They weren't chills brought on by the cold though.
"No. it's not safe! The ice is unstable down here. Repeat... it's not safe!"
Over in the recovery vehicle, Virgil monitored the faint transmission. Reversing his course, the track on his vehicle, carried him along the glacier towards the stationary Transmitter Truck. Within minutes, he was behind them. Agreeing that their method of rescue wasn't going to work, he turned around and made his way back towards the Pod. Before he could think about another plan, Virgil slammed on the brakes a large crack appeared in the ice ahead of him. He then accelerated, racing towards Thunderbird 2 ahead of the ice crack. The glacier had suffered from the combined weight of the vehicles, causing the ice sheet below to break apart. It was exactly what the scientist had warned them about. Beads of sweat broke out across Virgil's head as he expertly steered the recovery vehicle back up the ramp and into the Pod. Scott watched him from the relative safety of the Transmitter Truck.
"At least, Virgil's safe," he sighed. "But what are we going to do now? We've got to get to those scientists somehow?"
"We'll have to approach this from a different angle, Scott," replied Brains. "Fortunately, we still have a chance. We also have the Mole. We b-better get back to the Pod ourselves."
Taking a detour around the newly formed ice crack, Scott steered the Transmitter Truck back towards the Pod. As he did this, Brains explained his new plan to Virgil over the radio. His plan was their only shot at rescuing the two trapped scientists. It was a long shot plus the odds were against them, but if done correctly, it could work. Inside the Pod, Virgil hugged himself from the freezing cold. He shivered by the radio as Brains concluded his plan.
"It's our b-best hope of perfecting a rescue, Virgil. Do you t-think you can do it?"
Virgil could see his cold breath as he responded with an uncomfortable FAB. He shifted, mounting the small ladder which carried him towards the open hatch of the Mole, International Rescue's powerful drilling vehicle. He hoped he could reach the trapped scientists in time.
The Mole trundled down the Pod ramp a few minutes later. Her engines groaned as her two large caterpillar tracks carried her across the ice sheet. Virgil knew the risk he was taking performing this operation. The Mole had a reputation for causing tremors during a dig, but like the numerous other drills, this one came with a large risk factor. Ignoring his reservations about the plan, he steered the large drilling vehicle towards the projected dig site. The tail end angled skyward as the large metal drill bit angled towards the soft packed snow. It then spun in a clockwise direction, biting into the snow and ice and flinging it in all directions. As the rear motor rocket erupted to life, Virgil quickly sank beneath the icy surface, heading down towards the unstable ice wall of the ravine. To reduce the amount of vibration, Virgil burrowed down at a slower speed than he was used to. He could hear loose chunks of ice bounce off the hull as the drill bit hurled them about like stones.
He made good progress as the Mole dug into the Ice Glacier. Despite his low speed, he could feel a slight rumbling shake him inside. The ice had begun to break again, just as he closed the gap on the ravine. The borehole he had created remained stable for the most part, but he wondered how long it would be before it would cave in. Then, to his relief, he felt a ray of light touch his skin through the porthole to his left. He had managed to penetrate the Ravine, breaking through the side of the ice wall.
Inside the capsized survey vehicle, the two scientists gazed in awe as the Mole switched off her spinning drill head. They were captivated by it, feasting their eyes on the impressive machinery that made its way down towards them. The driver's colleague regained consciousness several minutes earlier, waking to a sore bump on his head. They rejoiced as watched Virgil emerge from the Mole and scurry through the snow towards them.
"They made it! International Rescue made it!" the driver cried.
"Thank goodness they made it! I thought we were done for!" her colleague replied with a grin.
Approaching the truck with a laser cutter, Virgil tore his way through the damaged metal bulkhead, creating a door for the two scientists. He was through within minutes, thrusting the cut metal segment with a kick. Helping them clear of the truck. He hurried them back towards the Mole, battling a second menacing tremor, Once, inside the Mole, Virgil threw the motors in reverse, sending them back up the borehole towards the surface. They held on for dear life as the glacier crumbled around them, filling up the tunnel ahead of them. A few heart-pounding minutes elapsed before finally, they emerged at the top of the ice sheet. The Mole reversed onto its carrying tracks and angled back into her horizontal position. Scott and Brains approached the cabin and helped the Scientists down the service ladder. They couldn't thank them enough.
"How can we ever thank you?" the colleague smiled as he shook Scott's hand vigorously.
Scott's smile hid his discomfort. The man's grip was that strong it could rip his arm out of its socket.
"There's no need to thank us!" he replied. "It's what we do. If you hadn't warned us, Virgil would have tumbled into that ravine with you."
Brains looked at the driver who stood there, trembling from the cold.
"I h-hope you managed to collect the data you needed from the glacier?" he said.
She regaled him with a smile; "We finished our work, thankfully. We transmitted the information back to base just before we fell into that ravine. Now that we have the data, we'll be able to determine a plan of action so we can preserve the Earth in the future. Global Warming could be tackled should we all do our bit to help."
Brains smiled shyly; "Then all I can say is...it was a p-pleasure saving the scientists who plan on saving the future."
Scott and Virgil agreed. Sure International Rescue had saved the day, but the survey team were going to save the future. Returning to their machines. They took off for home, hoping that they would succeed in their mission to make the world an environmentally safer place. They left the Antarctic behind, heading for home and the holiday preparations that awaited them,
END