CHAPTER FIVE
Incense hung heavy in the air within Kyrano's bedroom. He was seated on a large pillow at the foot of the bed, his legs crossed Hindu-style, his hands resting upon his knees. One solitary candle stood on the floor in front of him, its flame burning steadily. This candle was orange, the color he had long ago chosen for Brains. He had one candle within his possession for every resident of Tracy Island. He had selected the color representing each person carefully, in accordance with his knowledge of the inner self.
At this moment, his body was relaxed and his mind was searching. Searching for Brains. For a moment, he'd been certain he'd found him, but the sensation quickly faded. Now, Kyrano was using his powers to the fullest to try and locate the missing engineer. What he didn't realize was that his mind had begun acting as a beacon. A beacon that one of great ill will had picked up on instantly. Soon, Brains being trapped inside virtual reality wouldn't be International Rescue's only problem.
Scott frowned as he watched the blip move across his radar screen. "This is strange," he mumbled. "There shouldn't be any aircraft in this vicinity."
Piloting Thunderbird 1, Scott was on his way back to Base. The Uruguay rescue had consumed nineteen hours of International Rescue's time. To everyone's relief, the two people buried by the initial mudslide had been dug out by fellow villagers prior to IR's arrival. It was then a matter of getting to people stranded by the resulting mountain of mud. That's what had taken so long. Gordon had nearly gotten caught in a second, smaller slide, but luckily Alan had pulled him out of harm's way just in the nick of time.
They were all filthy dirty and a little sore, but not too much the worse for wear. Scott's mind had drifted to Brains, wondering where he'd gone, what had happened to him. Then, only 110 miles out from the island, his eyes had become riveted to his radar as another aircraft approached from the west. Its destination seemed to be Tracy Island.
"Thunderbird 1 to Base," Scott said.
"Base here, Scott."
"Tin-Tin?"
"Yes. Is everything all right?"
"I don't know. The rescue went okay, Thunderbird 2 and I are on our way back. Have you picked up the craft now 94 miles due west of your position?"
"Yes, I've been watching it for a few minutes now. It seems to be headed here."
"Can you get a make on it?"
"No. I've already asked John to see if he can identify it. Who do you think it is?"
"I don't know. We're not expecting anyone. It's a bad time, too. I'm almost home."
"I'll contact Mr. Tracy."
"Where is he?"
"He went down to the VRVS. He seemed rather agitated, but he would tell me nothing."
"I'll call him myself, Tin-Tin. Keep working with John to get a make on that plane."
"F.A.B."
"This is Thunderbird 1 calling Jeff Tracy."
Jeff was in the elevator headed back up to the main house when his watch beeped. He raised his arm to his face. "This is Jeff Tracy."
"Father, I think you'd better get back to Base."
"I'm on my way now. What's happened?"
"There's an aircraft approaching you from the west. It's now only 76 miles out. Tin-Tin and John are trying to get a make on it. Are you expecting anyone?"
Jeff frowned. Now what? "No, I'm not. And you can't land while they're in the vicinity. Stay a few hundred miles out and inform Virgil. I'm assuming the rescue was successful?"
"Yes, Father. No casualties. I'll get in touch with Thunderbird 2."
"Good work, son. I'll get back to you as soon as we figure out what's going on."
"F.A.B."
Jeff hurried into the Lounge. "I just spoke with Scott. What's the situation, Tin-Tin?"
From his portrait screen on the wall, John responded. "Father, it's a private jet, and I'm reading one life sign aboard. It seems to be headed straight for you, it hasn't changed course in the last twenty minutes."
"It might be nothing," Jeff said thoughtfully as he seated himself behind his desk.
"That's not all, Mr. Tracy," Tin-Tin said, her face belying her internal anxiety.
"What is it? What haven't you told me?"
"Father, the aircraft is carrying two Mark Twenty-Four Air-To-Surface missiles, one on the bottom of each wing."
Jeff's face paled. "You're certain?"
Tin-Tin nodded. "We didn't catch them at first. There seems to be some sort of cloaking mechanism that blocked their existence until a few minutes ago."
"And it's not a military plane?"
"No," John replied, his face grim. "Father, I recommend Thunderbird 1 intercept her. She's only forty miles out now."
"I agree," Tin-Tin added. "We can't take any chances."
"But how would someone have been able to find us? I can't believe it's on its way to bomb us."
Kyrano ran into the room, horror etched upon his face. "Mr. Tracy! Quickly! We must leave this house!"
"What?" Jeff asked, rising to his feet. "What's going on?"
"There is no time to explain, sir! Find Mrs. Tracy and get out of here!"
Jeff had never seen his friend so upset. Without question, he raced to his mother's room, hoping to find her there. To his great relief, he'd been right and he ran in, grabbed her hand and headed back to the Lounge. Ruth was surprised, to say the least, but the look on her son's face told her to follow along and ask questions later.
"John, get Scott and the others back here now!" Tin-Tin ordered as she and Kyrano headed for the patio.
"F.A.B.!"
Tin-Tin and Kyrano waited out on the balcony. They could hear the whine of engines as the plane approached.
"John!" Jeff bellowed as he and Ruth ran through the Lounge, "Get Scott and Virgil here now!"
"They're on their way! Hurry! It's almost on you!" John looked down at his console, then frantically screamed, "They're firing! They're firing!" He could do nothing but watch helplessly as his father and the others disappeared from view.
The four raced down the large curved staircase and to the left of the pool. Jeff raised his wrist to his face. "This is Jeff Tracy, code theta-alpha-alpha-gamma. Emergency Entrance Shelter 4, activate!"
A seven-foot-tall door hidden in the rock face of the cliff in front of them rolled sideways. They ran inside and Jeff used a control panel to close the door behind them. Lights flickered on as he led them down a tunnel.
"The most secure portion of this shelter is just ahead," Jeff yelled, his mother's hand still firmly grasped in his. "We should be able to get there before--"
However, he didn't get the chance to complete his sentence. Even from deep within the mountain, they heard two explosions. The earth rocked, sending all four of them tumbling to the floor. The lights flickered for a moment but remained burning.
"Anyone hurt?" Jeff asked.
"No, I'm okay. Father?"
"I am fine, my daughter."
"Mother?"
"Okay, Jeff, just a bit bruised. Do you mind telling me what's going on?"
"Kyrano?"
"Yes, Mr. Tracy. I'm afraid I have made a grave error."
"In what way?" Jeff asked as they all came to their feet.
Kyrano looked stricken, almost as though he might shed tears. "I believe the man who just bombed your home was none other than the Hood."
Brains' mind raced. Ever since the VRVS had closed its programs, he hadn't been able to get a simulation to load. He'd tried every voice command programmed into the machine, but nothing happened. He just hung suspended in the middle of blackness. He kept mentally kicking himself for having tried to verbally load a scenario on the VR VRVS while being inside a world created by the real VRVS. He'd been so excited at the prospect of being able to get himself out of there, he'd let himself slip. And what a slip it had been.
If the theory now forming in his head were accurate, the real VRVS had most likely blown its circuitry trying to load the Tracy Island scenario over top of the Thunderbird 4 scenario. That meant, in effect, the machine was broken. He doubted anyone on the island had a clue how to fix it. And now, no matter how furiously he worked the problem through, he couldn't come up with a solution.
"How could I be so stupid?" he yelled into the void.
Suddenly he felt something strange. A presence. It felt like someone else was there. How could that be? Was his theory wrong? Was the VRVS machine really working? Was one of the Tracys trying to get in?
"Hello?" he called out. "Hello, is anyone there?"
And then he knew…he just knew…who it was.
"Kyrano?"
Brains! I have found you!
Brains frowned. He couldn't hear anything, but he knew Kyrano was speaking to him. It was almost like thoughts were flowing into his mind, thoughts he knew weren't his, but belonged to Kyrano.
"Yes! Kyrano, I'm here! Where are you? I can't see anything!"
I am on Tracy Island. Where are you?
"I'm stuck inside the VRVS, Kyrano! What's happened to it? I can't get it to go back on!"
You are inside the machine?
"Yes! No! I mean, I'm inside the programming somehow. I'm not certain how it happened. I tried to contact you, I saw you and Mr. Tracy. Did you see me?"
Yes, we saw you. How can we get you out of there?
"I don't know. Something's happened. I think it may have blown its circuitry." A sudden thought occurred to Brains, and he felt hope for the first time since his screw-up. "Kyrano, do you think you could help me fix it?"
How?
Before Brains could reply, a feeling of dread overcame him. He felt someone else there. Someone who shouldn't be there. Someone evil. "Kyrano?"
No. Oh, no. By the hands of Kahla, no!
"Kyrano?" Brains screeched frantically. "What is it? Who's here?"
I will return! We will free you! But I must go now! We are in danger!
"What? In danger from whom? Kyrano? Kyrano!"
But just as surely as he'd felt Kyrano arrive, Brains now felt him leave. "What's happened? What's going on? Kyrano?"
There was nothing for a long time. Then suddenly the world around him lit up, blinding white light rendering him unable to see. He blinked rapidly, trying desperately to figure out what was going on. All at once he was sitting in the Mole's cockpit…then, just as suddenly, he found himself in Firefly's cockpit…and then Thunderbird 1's gimble-slung pilot's chair…and Thunderbird 4's cockpit…and Tracy Island Lounge…and the Tiger's rear cockpit.
Brains was whirling in and out of scenarios so quickly that his body began bruising as each chair or console slammed into him. Finally he seemed to be surrounded by every simulation he'd ever created, as though they were all trying to load at once. And before he could even process what was occurring, the pictures faded, leaving nothing but a black background lined with a red digital grid in their place. He found himself standing upon a surface. It looked as though he were in a square room. The floor, ceiling and walls all looked the same…bright, glowing red lines criss-crossing to form perfect little squares.
He moaned as aches and pains began making themselves known. "Now what?"