CHAPTER NINE
Day Three (continued)
By the time Grandma, Virgil and Gordon finished preparing food for the others, Scott and John had reached Thunderbird 5.
"Thunderbird 3 calling International Rescue."
"Go ahead, John."
"Father, we've just docked with Thunderbird 5. We're about to pass through the airlock."
"F.A.B. Keep your line open, I'm still not hearing anything from the vid."
John nodded as he and Scott exited the airlock into the access ramp. They took the lift tube up one floor and passed through the open emergency airlock doorway into the Main Monitor Room. John gasped as he took in Alan lying on the floor looking quite dead.
"What is it, John?" Jeff barked.
John was kneeling next to his little brother lickety-split. Scott followed suit as he replied, "Alan's down. Checking for a pulse...got one. It's strong."
They could hear Jeff's sigh of relief.
"I'm gonna try smelling salts," John said. He pulled one of the small canisters from his sash belt and popped the lid. Removing a small plastic tube, he replaced the canister and waited until Scott had lifted Alan's head a little. John held the tube under Alan's nose and snapped it in half, releasing a vapor that would, as Grandma had often joked, wake the dead.
Alan gasped and choked on his spit as the smelling salts did their trick. His eyes popped open and he blinked against the harsh lighting of the Monitor Room.
"Hey, Alan," Scott smiled down at him. "You okay?"
Alan shook his head, his mind a mass of scattered thoughts and images. Closing his eyes, he tried to envision a hundred small digi-cards sliding effortlessly into their storage slots, making each one of the cards represent an errant phrase or picture that refused to be put away.
"Alan?" John said softly, rubbing his brother's arm. "Come on, say something."
"G-G-God," was all he could manage.
"Scott?"
"Yes, Father. He's come 'round, but we haven't got him coherent yet."
John and Scott nodded to each other, one of them grasping Alan's left arm, the other grasping his right. They gently pulled him into a standing position, but were almost completely supporting his weight. Alan's eyes reopened as his brothers walked him to the Control Chair and brought him to rest.
"Alan?" Jeff spoke from the monitor. "Alan, it's your Father. Can you hear me?"
"Y-Yeah, Dad, I-I can hear you," Alan replied, much to everyone's relief. When he focused on the screen, he could see Virgil, Gordon, Jeff and Grandma watching him carefully. "H-How's everything back home?" he asked weakly.
"What happened?"
"I'm not sure, Father..." Alan's voice trailed off, as he seemed to recall something rather horrific. "Oh, my God. Father, I-I'm so sorry."
"Sorry? For what?"
"What I said, what I said about...Gordon, I didn't mean it, I didn't mean what I said, I promise you I didn't."
"Huh?" Gordon asked as he approached Alan's portrait. "What're you talkin' about?"
"Son, have you remembered something?"
Alan thought for a moment before nodding slowly. "I-I think so."
"From when?" Scott asked.
"Well, I don't know exactly. I was fighting with Gordon and then with you, Father. It was awful."
"Mm, so I hear. Do you remember why you passed out up there?"
"No...how long have I been out?"
"A little over two hours," John replied as he checked over the station's systems.
"Really? Last thing I remember is...calling home. I talked to John and Kyrano was playing something...his di. He was playing his di."
"Then what happened, Alan?" Jeff asked.
"Uh, I, uh," Alan struggled to recall the details. "My head hurt. It was a sharp pain."
"Just like what I experienced, Father."
"Same here, Scott. What about this pain, Alan?"
"Well, it came and went and that was that, I think. Then I asked Kyrano to play again, and before I knew it I had one splitting headache!" Alan frowned in thought before continuing. "I remember going down to the bathroom in the Sleeping Accommodation. I-I took two hypos of ASA. I got back into the lift tube, but--I'm sorry, that's all I can remember 'til just now."
"So Kyrano was still playing when you got back from Level 2?" John asked.
Alan nodded. "I heard the music as I stepped out of the tube. Then it felt like someone buried an axe into my head."
"Did you say something about me and my astronaut job?" Jeff questioned.
Alan turned about four shades of scarlet. "Yes, Father," he whispered. Then, more forcefully, "I didn't mean it! Honest, I didn't!"
"I know, son, I know. I'll tell you what I think. I think you've recovered your memory from the time when you were infected by the Cumbaquay virus."
"That's it!" Alan replied, rising to his feet. "That's it! You're absolutely right! Now I remember! We had just returned from taking the Cumbaquayans to the hospital, and you told us Scott had thrown a tantrum!"
"I did what?"
"Now, calm down, son. I think it's pretty clear we weren't in control of ourselves while the virus was attacking."
Scott reddened, but remained silent.
"Yes, you told Gordon, Virgil and me that Scott had taken a shower, then exploded at you. You asked us to watch Base Control while you went after him. Then Virgil got really mad at us, so we went to the pool."
"What'd I get mad at you about?" Virgil asked, trying desperately to remember. But how on Earth could he remember something that, to his 17-year old mind, hadn't even happened yet?
"You were just sore about being the pilot of Thunderbird 2," Alan replied.
"Pilot? Thunderbird 2?"
"Never mind, boys, this isn't going to get us anywhere. Alan, Virgil and Gordon have lost so much of their memories, they think they're teenagers."
"Finally, I'm not the youngest one anymore."
John and Scott smirked. Yep, Alan was just fine.
Ignoring Alan's remark, Jeff said, "Now that we know Alan's okay, I want to test my theory. Kyrano, are you ready?"
"Yes, Mr. Tracy."
"Right. Mother, I want you get Virgil and Gordon down to the Lab. That way we can be certain they won't hear Kyrano play."
"Okay, Jeff. Come along, you two."
Virgil and Gordon followed Grandma out of the room.
"Jeff Tracy calling the Lab."
"Yes, uh, Sir."
"I'm sending Mother, Virgil and Gordon down to you. I'm going to see if Kyrano playing the di brings back any of my memories. But I don't want Gordon and Virgil to hear the music."
"Good thing, I need to get new sc-scans of their brains."
"Right. Alan, are you fit for duty?"
"Yes, Sir. I feel fine now. My head's finally beginning to clear."
"Okay. Scott, John, I want the two of you to return to Base as soon as everything seems squared away up there. Do not call us unless it's an extreme emergency, is that clear?"
"Yes, Father," John replied.
"Let us know what happens, Dad."
"Don't worry, Scott."
"I can't help it! You have no idea what might happen to you!"
Jeff sighed. His eldest, overprotective as always...only now it wasn't limited to his brothers. He smiled at Scott's face hanging in the picture frame. "I know what will happen to your brothers if we don't figure out how to reverse their memory loss," he replied.
Scott nodded. He wasn't convinced it was a good idea, but once Jeff Tracy got something in his mind, he wasn't one to let it go. "All right, Father. But I'm next. Thunderbird 5 out."
Jeff stretched himself out on the couch as Kyrano took a seat on a nearby chair. "Are you certain you wish to attempt this, Mr. Tracy?"
"Yes, Kyrano. Mother gave you my watch. You can call for help if you need to. But remember, Alan was in a lot of pain as his memories returned. Don't use the watch unless it's something terrible."
Kyrano nodded and raised the di to his lips. He began blowing softly across the opening, but kept his eyes on his employer. Two full minutes passed before he saw the first sign of pain.
"Arrgh!" Jeff grunted, his hand covering his forehead. "Ah, damn!" What had started out as a piercing shot through his frontal lobe soon turned into a pounding headache. "Keep...play-ing," he ground out between clenched teeth.
Kyrano nodded, not missing a beat. Jeff tossed and turned on the sofa, clearly in agony. Kyrano watched helplessly, but continued on as he'd been instructed. With each set of harmonic notes, Jeff's pain seemed to increase exponentially, but he remained silent. In less than ten minutes, his body went limp.
Jeff watched as pictures appeared in front of him. He didn't quite understand what he was seeing, but somewhere his consciousness was able to remind him they were scenes from when he'd had the virus.
"Scott, I don't have all the answers. I'm doing the best I can, doing what I know how to do. How can I help you? How can I make it better?"
"You can't, Dad. Mom's gone. You can never make that better."
"I'm sorry, Scott. Truly."
"Yeah, you're sorry you got stuck with us. That's why I raised my brothers!" he spat before skidding and sliding down the cliff to the ground below.
Jeff shook his head and sank back onto the ledge. Pulling his knees up, he rested his arms and head upon them. "Oh, Lucy, what have I done to our sons? What have I done?"
Jeff watched the scene play out and felt anguish creep into his heart. But before he could even think about it, another scene flashed before him.
He jumped to his feet and pressed a button on the back of his desk. He leapt onto the settee just as it disappeared beneath the floor.
"Good God, no. Tell me he's not."
Jeff frowned. What was that all about? What was he doing using Thunderbird 3's pilot ferry?
"So you mean to tell me every one of my brothers has gone mad?"
"Yes, that's what I'm saying. There's no telling what Alan might do in his present state of mind."
"What should I do, Father?"
"Hope to hell he docks with you. And pray, son. Just pray."
It all came back to Jeff, so very quickly. Alan had taken Thunderbird 3. John had stopped him from getting past Thunderbird 5.
"So you think my sons have contracted this virus?"
"It seems to be the only logical conclusion."
"Where's the antidote?"
Brains looked at the floor, fiddling with the pencil in his hands. "That's just it, M-Mr. Tracy. There is no known cure."
"No," Tin-Tin whimpered.
That virus. That damned virus. Jeff was surprised at how much he'd forgotten as his mind flashed to the next scene.
"Is it just me or is it getting hot in here?"
"O-Oh, no," Brains moaned.
"What?"
"Mrs. Maycombe told me th-the first sign of infection is that the patient feels unbearably h-hot. Then a f-fever sets in and finally madness."
Jeff paled. "Are you saying I'm infected?"
The pictures began coming faster now.
"Scott!" he yelled, straining to tell which direction the sound was coming from. "Scott, are you in here?"
Jeff darted to the left, eyes scanning everywhere at once. When he was about halfway 'round, he spotted something that froze his heart in mid-beat.
"NO! SCOOOOOOTT!"
Jeff wanted to cry out, he wanted to scream as he watched his son dangle wildly from the end of the rope. But he couldn't make a sound. He couldn't move.
"Mr. Tracy, are you all right?"
"Try-ing...to...keep...con-trol," he ground out.
"W-We have the plant. Just t-take the sedative. W-We'll find a way to save you."
One solitary tear rolled down Jeff's cheek. "Keep...con-tact...John...try-ing...to...save...Al-an."
Suddenly feeling like his brain was about to explode, Jeff felt himself spiraling downwards out of control. He was helpless to resist the fall, and plunged headlong into darkness.
"This is, uh, B-Base Control calling Thunderbird 3."
"Reading you strength five, Brains. Has Father gone through with it?"
"Uh, yes, John, he has. He l-lost consciousness j-just like, uh, Alan."
"Is he all right, Brains?" Scott fairly bellowed.
"Y-Yes, he s-seems to be. Uh, Mrs. Tracy is with him in the, uh, Sick Room. He says he remembers everything, uh, now. H-He's resting comfortably at the, uh, moment."
"Right. We're about 45 minutes out. Have Kyrano get ready. As soon as we get back, he's playing for me."
"O-Okay, Scott. International Rescue out." Brains watched as Kyrano, Virgil and Tin-Tin entered the room. "Uh, where's Gordon?"
"He's gone to the kitchen for some iced tea," Tin-Tin replied. "How far away is Thunderbird 3?"
"Oh, uh, about forty minutes now, I w-would imagine. Uh, Kyrano, S-Scott wants you to, uh, play the di for him u-upon his return."
Kyrano nodded solemnly. "Were you able to discover the means by which Mr. Virgil and Mr. Gordon can be cured?"
"We think so," Tin-Tin replied. "We tested it on the organism we grew in the Stasis Chamber. Within six minutes, it was dead."
"Well, then, what're we waiting for?" Virgil asked, frowning. "I'm sick of not knowing what's going on!"
"I-I still don't f-feel comfortable g-giving it to you," Brains replied, approaching the distraught man. "W-We just don't know if your, uh, memories will return."
"Well, if the di worked on Alan and Father, it should work on us." Virgil swayed a bit and blinked rapidly, shaking his head.
"Virgil?" Brains said, moving forward. He was just in time as the larger man fainted into his arms.
Kyrano and Tin-Tin moved to help as Brains struggled to get Virgil to the couch.
"What has happened?" Kyrano asked.
"Oh, d-dear. I-It looks like he's about to, uh, lose some more memory."
The sound of shattering glass made them jump.
"What was that?" Tin-Tin asked.
"It came from the kitchen," Kyrano said as they hurried out of the Lounge.
Gordon mulled over his current predicament as he set about making a pitcher of iced tea. He'd gotten used to the confusion that was now his constant companion. But he couldn't get used to the fact that he couldn't remember what seemed to be the most important years of his life. His family had explained to him and Virgil that they were an organization called International Rescue. And that they were in possession of incredible technology, which they used for the sole purpose of saving the lives of those in peril the world 'round.
It figured, Gordon thought, that he and his brothers would so selflessly risk their lives for people they didn't know. He wondered how it was they'd gotten to this point, how it had all come together. As he dumped ice cubes into the pitcher and filled it with water, his mind clung to the hope that surely if his father were smart enough to get something like International Rescue going, he'd find a cure for his and Virgil's progressive amnesia.
As he carried the pitcher from the sink to the counter, Gordon found himself feeling lightheaded. He shook his head as the room began to spin. Without warning he dropped the pitcher, watching in slow motion as it hit the floor and shattered. A soft cry of surprise escaped his lips as his legs buckled beneath him and he went sprawling onto the tiles covered with broken glass.
Tin-Tin, Brains and Kyrano raced into the kitchen.
"Oh!" Tin-Tin exclaimed, running to Gordon's side. His hands and face were trickling blood from where he'd landed on the broken pitcher. "Brains, help me, he's been hurt!"
"I shall prepare the second bed in the Sick Room," Kyrano offered, shuffling out of the kitchen.
Being somewhat smaller than his older brother, Gordon's dead weight didn't pose too much of a problem as Brains lifted him into his arms. Tin-Tin was suddenly struck by how much tenderness Brains exhibited as he folded Gordon into his body. She'd never really seen him be anything but completely practical, logical and scientific. This was certainly a new side he was showing. Tin-Tin smiled as they headed for the Sick Room.
Jeff was sitting up in bed speaking with his mother as the trio entered the room. "What happened?" he asked, coming to his feet.
"Both Virgil and Gordon have passed out," Tin-Tin replied, watching Brains lower Gordon gently into the second bed. "Gordon dropped a pitcher and fell on top of it."
Brains' fingers danced across Gordon's face and hands, his brow furrowed. "Th-They don't look t-too severe," he said. "Tin-Tin, you can just cl-clean the wounds and, uh, wrap his hands."
"Right," she replied, heading for one of the cabinets.
Jeff turned as Kyrano entered. "Kyrano, old man, you did it."
"What did I do, Sir?"
"I've got my memory back. Whatever that di of yours is made of, don't you let anything happen to it. It may just do the trick for Gordon and Virgil. Tin-Tin, you said Virgil passed out, too. Where is he?"
"In the Lounge, Mr. Tracy."
"Right. I'm off to check on him."
"Jeff, are you certain you're well enough?"
"Yes, Mother, I feel fine. Those smelling salts of yours will keep me awake for the next week!"
Grandma laughed softly as Jeff left the room, followed closely by Kyrano.
"International Rescue from Thunderbird 3."
Jeff heard the beeping before he even entered the Lounge. He loped to his desk and opened the channel. "This is International Rescue. Go ahead, John."
"We're approaching Base now, Father. We should be with you in a few minutes."
"F.A.B. Get up to the Lounge as soon as you arrive. Gordon and Virgil have gone unconscious again. We're running out of time, boys."
"F.A.B," Scott and John replied in unison.
Scott's face appeared on the vid. "And don't forget, Father: I'm next."
"I'm counting on that, son," Jeff replied before cutting the channel.
"I-I really think I shouldhave a go at it before Scott, uh, returns, Mr. Tracy."
"Right, Brains, it makes sense. No use sitting around here wasting time. Are you prepared?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Kyrano?"
"Yes, Mr. Tracy."
"Right. Okay, then. I'll stick around just in case."
Brains chose to sit on a chair instead of lying down. He closed his eyes as Kyrano began playing the di. It wasn't long before a sharp stabbing sensation made him gasp, but he did not cry out. He'd prepared himself for the pain. Gripping the arms of the chair so hard his knuckles went white, Brains squirmed, his face scrunched up as a grand ache settled into his head. He fought it as long as he could before finally giving in.
"Ohhh..." he exhaled, slumping forward in the chair.
Unprepared for the way in which the memories would return, Brains was stunned as he literally began seeing past events.
"N-No, I c-can't think that way," he stammered, rising to his feet. He took Jeff's shoes off and covered him with his blankets. "I w-won't fail you, M-Mr. Tracy."
And I didn't, he thought with relief. I didn't.
"Y-Yes, I think this is it. I think it is!" Brains fairly crowed.
"You have it, Brains?"
"Yes, uh, Tin-Tin, I believe I do! Boy, is it getting hot in this suit!"
"Brains..."
"Y-Yeah, I know, I know. Symptoms. I have to finish this. I just have to."
"But how will you know it works, Brains? You'll have to test it on someone."
Brains looked up, straight into Tin-Tin's eyes. "If I can finish this before I lose my mind, I'll test it on myself. I-If I don't, you have to call for help."
But it hadn't come to that. He had lost his mind, but they hadn't needed to go outside the fold for help. It had been right there, and by a stroke of luck, they'd found it in the form of the sedative. Brains' memories rapidly returned as the next scene unfolded.
"Tin-Tin."
"Are you all right?"
"No."
"The virus?"
He nodded.
"What can I do?"
"I think this serum...will work," he ground out between clenched teeth.
"Have you taken an injection yet?"
"No...fighting...the...anger."
"Brains, let's get back down to the Lab, okay?" she asked evenly, walking toward him.
"Want...to...smash...it," he hissed, raising the bottle into the air.
"No!" Tin-Tin cried, rushing him and reaching for the bottle.
Oh, my, Brains thought. I can't believe I acted that way toward Tin-Tin. How embarrassing.
"Brains? What are you doing?" Gordon asked.
Brains was dropping and throwing any flask, beaker or container he could get his hands on to the floor and against walls. He was screaming at the top of his lungs.
"FINE! REJECT YET ANOTHER PROPOSAL, MR. TRACY! NEVER YOU MIND THAT I'VE SPENT SIX MONTHS WORKING ON IT!"
Oh, I hope they don't remember that. I'd hate for Mr. Tracy to think I mind it all that much.
"LET ME GO!" Brains yelled. "LET ME GO!"
"Come on, Brains, knock it off," Virgil said. "Tin-Tin!"
"Yes, here, hold his arm out for me, Virgil."
As much as he struggled, Brains hadn't a hope of getting free from both Tracy boys. Virgil succeeded in holding his arm fairly still, long enough for Tin-Tin to jab a needle into it. In a second, Brains went limp between them.
It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Thank Einstein for that. In his mind, Brains smiled as he felt sleep tug at him. He wanted to wake up, but was suddenly so very tired. So he allowed himself to be lulled into unconsciousness.
The setting sun beat through the glass wall of the villa. Virgil and Gordon had both been moved to their rooms, with Grandma and Tin-Tin flitting back and forth between them to keep a watchful eye. John, Jeff, Kyrano and Scott prepared for the task at hand.
"Now, Scott, I have to warn you, it's gonna hurt like hell."
"Okay, Father, I can handle it. Let's get this show on the road. The sooner we see it work on me, the sooner I can have my brothers back."
"Right. Okay, get comfortable. Kyrano, if you please."
Kyrano nodded as he took up the same chair he'd been in while playing for Jeff. Scott settled onto the couch while John and Jeff hovered nearby. Kyrano raised the di to his mouth and blew softly. Music filled the room, sad and sweet.
Scott waited for the pain his father had spoken of, but it did not come. At least, not right away. He was about to lose patience and start griping when it hit.
"Eeeyaaa!" he cried out, squeezing his eyes shut.
Jeff began to lunge forward to help his eldest, but John's hand reached out and grabbed his arm. He looked into his father's eyes and shook his head 'no'. Jeff bit his lip and nodded, glad for John's calming presence. He'd almost loused up the whole thing. Damn parental instincts.
Kyrano watched as the scene before him eerily echoed what had happened when he'd played for his employer. He couldn't believe this simple instrument from his home country of Malaysia could have such a powerful effect on peoples' minds, but he was very glad he could assist in their recovery.
Scott writhed in pain, grunting and groaning as it felt like someone was burrowing into his skull, intent upon cracking it right in two. Nine minutes passed before he ceased to struggle and gave in to the darkness.
He tried to get up and run, he tried to move or cry out, but he was paralyzed...stuck in a black place that held neither light nor sound. He got the odd idea that he was in a movie theater waiting for the show to start. This feeling was confirmed seconds later when something appeared before him, something he didn't recall ever seeing before.
"What's got into me?" Scott yelled, jumping to his feet again. "I'll tell you what's got into me, Dad. I'm sick and tired of being the one making all the decisions out there. I'm tired of telling everybody what to do! They're all grown men; they can make their own decisions! Why do I have to be first? Because I'm the oldest? To hell with that! I don't want the damned responsibility anymore! I'm sick to death of this whole thing!"
What on Earth was going on? When had Scott ever said that to his father? And furthermore, why had he said it? Saying he didn't want to be first on the scene, to be in command of almost every rescue? Nothing could be further from the truth! Scott loved the position he held in the organization, and within the family. What was this all about?
"Yeah, Father, you thought. You always think. You think you know what's best. You've locked us on this island, a bunch of grown men. Grown men with needs! Did you ever stop to think about that? Are we s'posed to be goddamn monks for the rest of our lives just to save a bunch of ingrates who couldn't care less?"
"But you went into this willingly, Scott. You knew what life would be like. You all knew."
"You're right. We did know. But did you honestly think any of us would say no to you? To our father? To the great astronaut and billionaire Jeff Tracy? Please, you already had Brains building the damn machines; you already had most of this hunk of rock carved out before you even asked us. What were we gonna do? We had no choice."
Scott wanted to yell, to scream, to get his father's attention. "I don't feel that way, Father!" he wanted to say. "None of us do!" But words would not come.
Suddenly Scott's eyes snapped open. They filled with tears that overflowed onto his cheeks as he began to cry. He grabbed his father's pant legs and pulled himself up until he was grabbing his shirt and jacket, then finally buried his face in his chest, sobbing so hard Jeff could feel the wetness soak through his clothing.
"I...I miss Mom!" Scott wailed, clinging to his father like a lost child.
"I miss her, too, Scott."
"It's so unfair! Why did she have to die? Why?"
Tears stung Scott's eyes as he watched the scene before him. He'd always felt it unfair that his mother had been taken from them so suddenly, but he never remembered crying so openly about it, especially not in front of his father. If these pictures left him feeling sad, the next ones positively sickened him.
Scott tied the rope into a noose, and then got up on a chair he'd pulled over and fastened the rope to the track lighting near the roundhouse wall. The look on his face was one of hopelessness as he lowered the noose around his neck.
Scott was horrified. What am I doing? What am I doing?
He tightened the rope so it fit snugly 'round his neck and in one sudden and swift move, kicked the chair away. His eyes bulged as the rope cut into his throat, constricting his airway and making breathing impossible.
NOOOOOOO! his mind cried out.
But just as quickly, another replaced that scene.
"My God," Jeff breathed. "You almost gave me a heart attack. And I'm serious."
"Why did you stop me?" Scott coughed. His strength drained, he sank back onto the lounge.
"What the hell kind of question is that? I saved you because...because I love you, dammit!"
I love you too, Father, Scott thought as he was sucked into a whirlpool of nothingness.
Night came far too quickly. Scott was sullen, and refused to speak of his returned memories. Jeff knew there would be time for that later. Right now they had to concentrate on curing Gordon and Virgil before it was too late. The Lab was soon filled to capacity with Tin-Tin, Brains, John, Scott and Jeff as they tested and re-tested the antidote Brains had created for the organism plaguing Gordon and Virgil's brains. Jeff wanted to be certain they had everything in order before they tried to kill the parasite and return wayward memories to their rightful owners.
Brains had the Lab well in hand, so Jeff wandered up to check on his sons. Grandma was sitting with Gordon in his room, and said he hadn't stirred. Jeff entered Virgil's room just as he began to open his eyes.
"Virgil? Can you hear me, son?'
"Daddy?" Virgil squeaked. "Where's Mommy?"
Jeff's eyes widened as he approached the bed. "What did you say?"
"Where's Mommy? I had a nightmare. I want Mommy to sing to me," he pouted.
"Virgil, how old are you?"
A big smile lit his face, which somehow seemed more boyish than it had before. "I'm eight!" he declared proudly.
Jeff sank into the chair next to Virgil's bed. Even though two years had passed since his mother's death, Virgil at age eight had still asked for her when he'd had nightmares. "Dear God in Heaven."
Grandma and Jeff managed to soothe both Virgil and Gordon, and get them back to sleep. Gordon awoke in a fit, crying for his mother. They soon figured out he was about four years old--at least, mentally--but neither wanted to delve into reminding them their mother had died. And so Jeff told them she was on a trip, and would return soon.
It broke Ruth's heart watching her son lie to her grandsons about Lucille. Jeff struggled to maintain his composure as he watched his mother stroke Gordon's hair. He kept reminding himself that, if he had his way, his sons would be returned to normal by dawn.
Day Four
Jeff checked his chronometer. Virgil had had a rough night, waking almost every hour on the hour as Jeff kept silent vigil. He'd also kept in contact with Alan on Thunderbird 5 throughout the night, explaining to him what they were going to attempt and giving progress reports. It was now nearing five a.m. and he sighed, running a hand through his hair. Virgil had been asleep this time for almost 45 minutes, so Jeff decided to check on those in the Lab. Before long, Gordon would be nothing but an infant. The time to act was now.
Scott looked up as his father entered the Lab. He yawned almost big enough to split his face in two, which prompted everyone else in the room to follow suit.
"Well?"
"Looks like it's a go, Father. We've run every test imaginable," Scott replied, forcing himself to his feet.
"Brains?"
"Yes, uh, M-Mr. Tracy. I believe we're ready."
Jeff nodded. "Then let's get it going. Virgil and Gordon have regressed back to eight and four years of age. Whatever we do, it has to be soon."
"Oh, my," Tin-Tin sighed as she gathered some papers and equipment.
John, Jeff, Scott and Brains gathered more items and walked single-file up the stairs. In the privacy of their own minds, each and every one of them was praying. Praying like they'd never prayed before.
"N-Now, we have to be certain the sigma radiation beam doesn't m-move one millimeter th-throughout the, uh, procedure."
"Right. The sedative should keep him knocked out and the restraints should hold him in place, but Scott, I want you at his head, just in case."
"Okay, Father."
"John, stay at his feet. If he starts moving, do everything you can to immobilize him."
"F.A.B."
Brains and Tin-Tin checked and double-checked their equipment as Jeff looked on. They were all in the Sick Room. Having been given a sedative, Virgil was strapped to the bed as tightly as possible to keep him from moving. A large, black square machine mounted on something that looked like an I.V. pole was at the head of the bed. A thin tube eight inches long and about the thickness of a pencil extended from the machine, coming to rest just centimeters from Virgil's hairline just above his right eyebrow. The section of hair directly beneath the tube had been wetted with lubricant and slicked back to afford the most accurate placing of the beam possible.
Kyrano stood nervously in the door, watching. He'd been instructed to wait until Brains declared the entity in Virgil's brain had been killed, and then he was to begin playing his di immediately. Grandma hung behind him, wringing her hands.
"We're, uh, ready, Mr. Tracy."
Jeff nodded slightly, knowing his next words might doom the grown man on the bed to remain in the world of an eight-year-old boy. "Do it."
Scott and John looked at their father's stoic face, but could sense none of what was running through his mind. They looked at each other grimly as they took up their positions at the head and foot of the bed, respectively.
"O-Okay, Tin-Tin, uh, give Virgil the injection of Antidote L."
"Right, Brains," she replied, sliding a needle into Virgil's forearm.
Brains flicked a switch and the large square machine hummed to life. He watched the life monitors above the bed. Everything seemed to be reading normal. He pressed a series of buttons and the tube extending from the machine began to glow as a red beam shot out the end of it and pinpointed a spot on Virgil's head.
"Here goes," Brains muttered as he made final adjustments. His finger hesitated above the button that would begin blasting the organism in Virgil's head with pure sigma radiation. He turned to look at Jeff, who nodded that he should continue. Brains turned back, looking at his finger as though it belonged to someone else. Then he pressed the button.
Externally, nothing seemed to be happening. But the monitors to the side of the bed showed the group that the organism, which had over the past 24 hours grown to the size of a grape, was now shrinking. Everyone's eyes were riveted to the display monitor. What was only minutes seemed to pass like hours. Millimeter by millimeter, the organism disappeared.
"It's working," John breathed. "It's working!"
"Yes, it, uh, seems to be," Brains replied, a smile on his face. "Just a few more seconds should do it. Tin-Tin, uh, turn off the radiation machine a-as soon as I give the w-word."
"Okay." Finger poised over the switch, Tin-Tin held her breath. What she didn't realize is that everyone else was holding their breath as well.
They watched as the life form grew so miniscule it was barely visible. Then all at once, Brains shouted, "Stop!"
Tin-Tin flicked the switch off as everyone looked down at Virgil. He lay quite still, seemingly none the worse for wear.
The life monitors indicated he was fine, so Jeff turned to Kyrano. "It's time," he said simply.
Kyrano nodded and took two steps into the room. He raised the di to his lips and began to play. The song was now as familiar to the others in the room as it was to him. They watched Virgil expectantly as the music drifted over them, everyone willing his memories to return.
Scott was the one who noticed the slight twitch of Virgil's right eye. He stared intently at the area, wondering what it meant. When nothing else happened, he looked up and signed to the others what he'd seen. Again, the minutes seemed to drag as Kyrano's song continued. He'd been told to play for ten full minutes, for in the previous three trials with Alan, Jeff, Brains and Scott, it had seemed to take no longer than that for the di to do whatever it was doing.
As they approached the sixth minute of the song, Grandma noticed Kyrano's body stiffen. She frowned and came 'round to stand in front of him. His eyes had taken on a rather glassy appearance, and her frown deepened. She turned to look at Jeff and motioned him over.
He bent down so she could whisper in his ear. "He doesn't look quite right, Jeff."
Jeff's frown matched his mother's as he watched his old friend, who no longer seemed to be aware of their presence. "Kyrano?" he whispered.
Kyrano felt it coming this time. He felt himself being called as though from a distant star. The now-familiar fog enveloped his mind, but he struggled to maintain clarity, knowing he had to finish what he was doing for Virgil's sake. He stiffened, playing the di automatically as his brain fought to keep itself in the moment.
KYRANO.
No, no, no.
KYRANO!
No, leave me alone. I cannot! I will not!
KYRANO!
Noooooooo!
"Aaaaaaaaaa!" Kyrano wailed, dropping the di to the floor. Tin-Tin gasped as it broke into two pieces.
"Kyrano!" Grandma cried as he fell toward her.
Jeff's strong arms caught his friend just as he toppled. He carried him to the Sick Room's second bed and laid him upon it as Kyrano thrashed about in pain.
"It's the Hood again!" Grandma said as she and Tin-Tin rushed to his side.
"Not now!" John said, rising to his feet. "We were almost there!"
"Aaaaah, arrrrrrgh!"
"Kyrano, it's Jeff, can you hear me?"
"Fight it, Kyrano," Grandma intoned, leaning as close as possible to his face. "Fight with everything you've got!"
KYRANO! WHAT IS THE STATUS OF INTERNATIONAL RESCUE?
Somewhere in the haze of this uncertain reality, Kyrano knew he had to force himself to speak aloud. "I...will...not...tell...you!"
"That's right, Kyrano, don't tell him. Don't tell him anything," Grandma said, her hand on his arm.
YOU HAVE NO CHOICE! MY POWER OVER YOU IS GREAT! YOU WILL TELL ME WHAT I WISH TO KNOW!
"I...will...not...betray...them! No...longer!"
KYRANO! YOUR FEEBLE ATTEMPTS TO THWART MY EFFORTS ARE LAUGHABLE! YOU TELL INTERNATIONAL RESCUE THEY WILL NEVER SURVIVE!
"They...will...survive! They will!"
"Kyrano, get him outta your head!" Jeff bellowed.
"Father!" Scott exclaimed. "Virgil's waking up!"
"What?"
Scott remained in his seat, leaning forward so his eyes were mere inches from his brother's. John and Jeff hovered over them, frowning.
Virgil moaned as his head rolled from side to side. The strain was almost too great, but he managed to force his eyelids open enough that he could see through the resulting slit. The first thing that came into focus was his brother's cobalt blue eyes. Virgil blinked a few times before his eyes would stay open all the way.
"Virg?" Scott said softly.
He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could do so, Virgil's vision blurred as his mind knocked into high gear, flooding so quickly with images and ideas that it was unable to keep up.
Scott leaned even closer, one hand coming to rest on his brother's hair, the other on his arm. "Virgil, can you hear me?" he asked softly. "Please, Virg, come on."
Virgil began to sweat as his rate of breathing increased. Brains watched the monitors with increasing anxiety as his heart rate and blood pressure soared. "Tin-Tin, get on it!" he yelled.
She left her father's side and grabbed some items from a nearby cabinet, racing to Virgil's side. Before anyone knew what was happening, she'd injected him with something, but his heart rate continued to increase. By now, Virgil was panting, trying desperately to get oxygen into his lungs.
"Do something!" Jeff begged, grasping one of Virgil's hands.
"We're trying!" Brains replied as he and Tin-Tin flitted about the bed like angry bees.
Grandma tried her best to focus on Kyrano, who still seemed to be waging his internal war against the Hood. "Kyrano, it's me. It's Ruth. Mrs. Ruth. Please, Kyrano, you must stop him. Virgil needs you now. Please."
Kyrano's eyes opened and found Ruth's. He tried to focus on them, tried to use them as he had before: an anchor, a tether to reality. "M-Must...fight..."
"Yes, Kyrano, yes. Fight. Remember? You did it before. Fight!"
"Go...away!" Kyrano cried out to the evil invading his mind. "You...will...not...have...me...any...longer!"
As suddenly as it had begun, the attack was over. Grandma breathed a sigh of relief as Kyrano sank unconscious back into the pillow. She then turned her attention to her grandson, who was surrounded by activity. From her vantage point, she could see Scott whispering to his brother while simultaneously stroking his hair.
"Virg, it's Scott. It's your brother, Scott. Please talk to me. Say something. Say anything."
"Father?" John croaked as he watched Virgil's condition continue to decline.
"He's strong. He'll make it," Jeff said, more to convince himself than John. Jeff knew that Scott and Virgil had always been the closest of his sons. He turned his eyes to his eldest, who looked oddly like a worried mother hen at the moment. "Bring him back, Scott. Bring him back."
Virgil felt like he was running a marathon. He couldn't get his thoughts in order; everything was abuzz with activity and noise, bleeps and blips, voices and pictures flashing through his mind. But one small voice seemed to cut a swathe through the reeds of confusion. In the midst of incomprehensible din, he heard Scott.
"Virgil, I'm right here with you. I've got you, like always. Stay with me. Come on, you can do it."
Virgil tried hard to open his eyes. When at last he succeeded, the only thing he saw were the eyes of his brother. "S-Scott?"
Scott nodded. He could feel Virgil's breath on his face as it became more ragged. "Virgil, keep it here. Keep it right here," he said, pointing to his own eyes.
"Scott?" Virgil choked as tears fell. "Scott? Help me."