In the time since his family had seemingly disappeared off the face of the planet, John Tracy had had no problems in getting to sleep. Staying asleep was a different matter. The nightmares that populated his dreams inevitably caused him to wake him up in a cold sweat. The upshot was that he was nearly as exhausted as Virgil, who'd been getting no sleep at all.
His uniform crumpled and untidy, his sash and belt hanging off the corner of the desk, John tossed in his chair and plucked at his blanket.
"Calling Thunderbird Five."
John gave a little moan and shifted so he was lying on his other side. His pillow slid to the floor of Thunderbird Five's control room.
"Calling Thunderbird Five!"
John pulled his blanket over his head and stretched, trying to get comfortable. His foot kicked his belt and the sash fell to the floor.
"Come in Thunderbird Five! Are you reading me?"
John sat up, partially awake. Deciding that the voice wasn't part of his dream he flicked the switch that completed the link with his caller. "Funderbird Thive. Go ahead."
"Is that how you normally answer a call, Son?"
"Dad!" John stared at the image on the screen. "Is that you? Are you okay? How's everyone? What happened? Why are you…?" John peered closer at the screen, "…in Thunderbird Three? What happened? Are you okay…?"
"Whoa," Jeff ordered. "We're all okay. How's Thunderbird Two?"
"She's fine. She's at Penny's."
"John," Scott clarified, "He means, how's Virgil, Tin-Tin, Brains and Joe?"
"Oh, them!" John's fatigue vanished and his mind cleared. "They're fine. Got through the storm, no problems. But what happened to you guys?"
"Lost the radio," Alan replied.
"So I gathered. But how?"
Ned Cook pushed his way through so that he could see John clearly on the screen. "John! Please! How is Joe, really?"
"He's going to be okay. He's still in Intensive Care, but they'll probably move him out in the next few days. The doctors said things would have been different if we'd got him to hospital any later."
Ned looked relieved.
"Are you sure you're all okay?" John repeated.
"We're a darn site better than you look, my boy," Grandma informed him. "That uniform of yours looks slept in."
"Ah… It has been, Grandma."
She gave a snort that showed that she didn't approve.
Trying to avoid her wrath, John moved the conversation. "Why are you all in Thunderbird Three?"
"Because we were fairly sure that we'd be able to contact you from here, and the flight deck is big enough for all of us," his father said.
"Even Mr Cook?" John was looking slightly astounded.
"Don't worry, your secrets are still safe," Ned growled. "They blindfolded me and led me here."
"We did think of pushing him off the gantry, but decided against it," Gordon teased.
Ned Cook smiled at the joke.
"Why'd you lose contact?" John asked. "We've been worried sick."
"We've lost part of the roof," Jeff informed him.
"Lost part of the roof…? How extensive is the damage?"
"We haven't checked yet, we were more concerned about finding if everyone had survived the storm."
"If you've lost the roof, you're going to need help replacing it." John looked at his youngest brother. "Slap that baby of yours into gear, Alan, and come and get me."
"We'll do that soon enough," Jeff agreed, "But, first, we'll have to do a survey and compile a list of supplies. Virgil can bring them back in Thunderbird Two."
John felt slightly disappointed. "Okay." Then he cheered up. "Gee, it's great to see you all."
There was a moments silence as he looked at them with a goofy smile.
"John," Scott said.
"Yes?"
"Don't you think Virgil would like to see us as well?"
"Oh… Yeah… Sorry…" Blushing to the roots of his blonde hair, John transferred the call.
Sheer exhaustion and the prospect of finally being able to do something meant that Virgil had fallen into a deep sleep. John had to activate his brother's alarm several times before the signal penetrated his almost catatonic slumber and Virgil awoke. He fumbled for his watch and looked at John with bleary eyes. "I was 'sleep," he moaned. "Whatcha want?"
"I've got someone who wants to say 'Hi', Virgil."
"Who?" Virgil rubbed his hand over his face.
"We can call you back later, if you'd prefer, Virg."
Virgil's eyes widened "Scott! Father! Grandma! Are…"
"We're all fine," Jeff interrupted the expected question.
"What happened?"
"We've lost part of the roof and the temporary antenna with it."
"Lost the roof? Are you sure you're all okay?"
Halfway around the world, in Thunderbird Three, his family glanced in Scott's direction as his brother answered. "We're fine. You don't need to worry." He grinned when he saw Virgil frown. "Honest, Virg. We're a million bucks now that we know that you all made it safely."
"I've got to tell the others!" Virgil exclaimed. "Hang on!" The picture on Thunderbird Three's console blurred as he leapt out of bed and ran down the hallway. "Brains!" he barged into the engineers room without knocking. "Wake up!"
"Wh-What?" Brains asked groggily.
"Here!" Virgil threw his watch at him. "Talk to them while I get Tin-Tin." He was out the door again before Brains had a chance to ask him to clarify his statement.
Brains sat up, hearing a yell of "Tin-Tin! Wake up!" from the hall, and the watch slid down off his bedclothes and onto the floor. Thunderbird Three's screen blurred again.
"At this rate I'm going to be suffering from a severe case of motion sickness before we get to talk to him," Gordon complained.
"You?" Scott looked at him. "You've never suffered a moment of motion sickness in your life."
Brains reached for where he thought he'd left his glasses. "What's he on about?" he muttered. "Where's that thing that fell?"
Gordon leant forward so he was closer to the microphone. "On the floor!" he yelled.
Brains didn't hear him but had succeeded in retrieving the watch. He picked it up, holding it upside down as he affixed his spectacles to his face. Then he turned the watch so it was the right way up and stared into its face. "Wh-What can I do for you, Mr Tracy?"
"You can show a bit more enthusiasm, Brains," Alan told him.
"Virgil's doing enough of that for both of them," Gordon told him.
Brains frowned, blinked, and yawned. It was only then that the realisation of whom he was looking at awakened as well. "M-M-M…?"
"We're all okay, Brains," Jeff anticipated the question.
"Wh-Wh-Wh…?"
"Part of the roof was blown away along with the antenna."
"Wh-Why…?"
"We thought the radio would still be working and there's room enough for all of us."
It was all Brains needed to know. "Good," he said. And a smile broke out across his face.
Virgil barged back into the room, pulling Tin-Tin by the arm. "Where's that watch, Brains?"
"Virgil!" Tin-Tin complained. "You could at least wait until I've got my dressing gown done up."
Gordon nudged Scott and pointed at Alan whose face had adopted a scowl.
Brains held out the watch. Virgil took it from him and gave it to Tin-Tin, staying close so that he could see its face over her shoulder.
Tin-Tin glared at him. "I know the time! I looked at the clock when you pulled me out of bed. It's 3.00am."
Gordon and Scott could barely contain their laughter as Alan's scowl deepened. Kyrano looked on serenely.
"I didn't pull you out of bed," Virgil protested. "I banged on your door."
"At three-o-clock," she said her dark expression getting even darker.
Jeff indicated that Kyrano should move closer to the microphone. "Selamat pagi (1), Tin-Tin," the Malaysian said.
Tin-Tin heard the voice and finally looked at the watch. "Father!"
"Apa khabar (2)?"
"Selamat Sejahtera (3)," she replied. "Khabar baik (4). And how are you? How are you all?"
"We are all well," Kyrano informed her.
Alan couldn't wait any longer. Partly because he was dying to talk to his girlfriend, and partly to circumnavigate the questions they'd already answered three times, he said, "The roof has gone, which is why the antenna wasn't working, and we're in Thunderbird Three because we thought the radio would still be operational and because we can all fit in here."
"And because Thunderbird One's flooded," Gordon added.
"We don't know that," Scott protested. "The water may not have penetrated the hull."
"I'll bet the jet units are ruined."
Scott responded with a sour, "Shut up, Gordon."
There was a knock on the door to Brains' bedroom and Lady Penelope stepped inside, shadowed by Parker. "What is all the noise? We could hear you from the other side of the house."
"I told you that would happen," John's voice came from the vicinity of Virgil's watch.
"Lady Penelope! Look!" Tin-Tin held out the timepiece, her smile almost splitting her face in two. "They've made contact, and they are all well."
"Made contact? Your family?" Lady Penelope took the watch. "Jeff! It's wonderful to see you again."
"It's good to see you too, Penny. I hope those three haven't been any trouble."
"Not at all. It's been a pleasure."
"I'll bet," Gordon was in a playful mood. "Virgil. I hope you haven't been streaking through Penny's place."
Virgil reddened. "No, I haven't!"
"Then what have you got on?" Grandma's tone made Virgil think he was going to be in trouble when he got home. "I would expect you to wear more when you're a guest in Penelope's house."
Virgil looked down as if confirming that he was underdressed. "I've got my shorts on," he protested. "I'm sorry, Penny. I forgot to order pyjamas with the rest of my clothes. I was in a hurry to let everyone know that everyone was okay and I didn't think of putting anything on."
Lady Penelope had already decided that there were worse things to be woken by than half naked Tracys. "That's all right, dear boy. Don't worry about it."
"I'll go get something on," Virgil offered his father. "We can leave any time."
"Don't hurry back," Jeff suggested. "We'll reconnoitre the complex and see what repairs we have to make and what supplies we'll need. In the meantime you can get some more sleep, you look like you need it. We'll call you tomorrow when we're ready to place our orders. I'll send them through to you, John, and you can ring the suppliers."
"F-A-B," John replied.
"And in the meantime you can get out of that mess of a uniform."
"Yes, Sir."
"At least you could run around naked and you wouldn't offend anyone, John," Gordon quipped.
"Thanks, Gordon," John said without enthusiasm.
"Except maybe some passing aliens."
"Thanks, Gordon," John repeated.
"They'd take one look and flee in fright."
"Gordon…"
"And go home and tell their peoples about this strange beast that is so terrible that Earthlings keep it in a sealed container above the Earth's atmosphere."
"Shut up, Gordon."
The following night (Tracy Island time), John had enjoyed a peaceful sleep, and was showered, combed, and dressed in a clean, pressed uniform. He answered his father's call with a broad smile.
"You're looking a bit more like you," Scott informed him.
"I feel like it too. Where are you both?" John asked. "Thunderbird One?"
"The gantry's still working, so we thought it was easier to get to One than Three," Jeff informed him. "Did you sleep well?"
"Like a baby. How about you guys?"
"Sleep's not a problem as the sleeping quarters are okay, but the rest of the house is trashed," Jeff told him. "We need to rebuild the lounge, kitchen, dining room, laboratory…"
"Brains is going to be devastated when he sees the lab," Scott interjected.
"It's going to need a complete overhaul," Jeff continued on. "As does the workshop, and most of my study's in the Pacific Ocean. Thank heavens I have full backups of everything on Thunderbird Five."
"Yeah," Scott added. "Thunderbird One's launch bay is filled with mud and rubbish and her hangar's not much better. Palm tree number eight got jammed in Thunderbird Two's hangar door so it didn't shut properly and that's flooded."
"How's One?" John asked.
"Pretty good considering she's been underwater. We've been lucky that the water treatment plant and power generator have kept working throughout all this, I was able to spend much of the morning hosing the salt water out of her jet units, which'll hold her until we can strip them down. I don't think there'll be any long term damage. Alan and Gordon are crowing because Thunderbirds Three and Four came through unscathed."
"Naturally," John commented. "How's the observatory?"
"We haven't been to that side of the island," Jeff told him. "I'm sorry, John, but the main complex has taken priority."
"I understand." John tried not to sound disappointed as he changed the topic. "I've discovered the reason why the storm surge was so high." As his father and brother listened intently, he continued on. "It was a combination of factors. Not only the cyclonic storm surge, but there was also a king tide, and seismic activity near the Hawaiian Islands set off a small tsunami. Two of those events together would have flooded the runway and not much else. It was the three, almost simultaneous events, which caused the problems."
"So, for once in our lives Lady Luck wasn't smiling on us," Scott hypothesised.
"Nope." John paused. "So what do you need?"
"We're sending the list through now," Jeff said, and John heard a printer on board Thunderbird Five spark into life. "It's mainly building materials, but Grandma and Kyrano have attached the list of appliances they want for the kitchen."
Scott grinned. "There was a… shall we say 'animated discussion' about the type of cooker we should get. Kyrano wanted an atomic one, while Grandma had her heart set of something more 'old fashioned', with less rods. It was nearly carving knives at dawn."
John grinned at the image.
"We won't touch the lab until Brains gets home," Jeff continued on. "Then he'll be able to decide what he needs and if he wants to change the room's layout."
"Fair enough," John agreed.
"Since Tin-Tin's in London with Penny, I'll let them decide on the decorations for the lounge and other rooms."
"You're kidding!" John screwed up his face. "Penny will want everything pink!"
Jeff chuckled. "I think I can trust her not to go that far."
"When are you going to come and get me? I'm not doing much good up here."
"Once Thunderbird Two's back, we'll use her to reinstate the radio mast. Until then you're our only link with the outside world and I don't like being cut off, even if we can't actually rescue anyone."
"Has International Rescue been needed?" Scott asked.
John shook his head. "No. Before Sylvia got up to full strength, all the smaller nations had been evacuated to the larger ones, in accordance with the Pacific Disaster Treaty, and the rest of the world has enjoyed a quiet week."
"Glad to hear it," Jeff said.
"Uncle Stanton's been on the phone a few times, but I've played dumb. He can wait until we get the radio mast operational again and I've 'made contact'."
Scott chuckled. "Ned's been telling us a few stories about him. You think Uncle Stanton's a pain in the butt to us, try working for him!"
"Ned!" John stared at his older brother. "You called him Ned? A week ago you would have called him 'Cook'. And that would have been with gritted teeth and plans to eviscerate him."
"Yeah, well… After spending four days cooped up with him I've come to realise that he's not that bad," Scott conceded. "He kept us entertained telling us about the stories he covered."
"And you entertained him with International Rescue stories?"
Scott looked shocked. "No! Of course not… Well… Maybe the odd one. Ones that were already in the public domain… giving our viewpoint as it were…"
"Yeah… Right…" John deadpanned.
Jeff interrupted. "Can you put us through to Virgil? We've, ah… I want to let him know what's happening. You can make a start ringing the suppliers."
"F-A-B."
There was a delay as John located Virgil's position in the Creighton-Ward manor.
"How are you going to tell him?" Scott asked his father.
"I was hoping you were going to tell him. That's why I invited you to help me with this call," Jeff replied.
"Thanks." Scott didn't sound happy with his new responsibility.
Virgil was in Lady Penelope's study, sketching the morning sky from her window, when he received the call. He settled back in a leather chair and looked at his father and brother's image in a small picture frame. "Hi."
"Glad to see you're fully clothed this time," Scott teased.
Virgil ignored his older brother. "Have you worked out what I'll be bringing home yet?"
"Yes," his father replied. "John's got a list and he'll ring around and get everything delivered to Penny's. We're sending you a copy now."
Virgil watched as Lady Penelope's printer started shooting out numerous sheets of paper. "Whoa! Don't forget Thunderbird Two hasn't got her pod!"
"Son, that 'plane of yours could carry a complete house with or without the pod," Jeff reminded him.
"Yeah," Scott added. "Especially since her interior is lying on the floor of the hangar back here. Quite a few things have been damaged." He hesitated. "Ah… Virg…" He glanced at his father.
But Virgil, conceding the validity of their statements, had a suggestion. "Why don't I help John with the 'phone calls? I'm not doing much back here."
"Because I'm getting Tin-Tin and Penny to plan the new décor and I thought you would want to help them decide the colour schemes," Jeff told him.
"Yeah," Scott agreed. "Give a man's point of view. You know what we like. Something simple."
Virgil had sat up straight in the chair. "Shopping! You want me to go shopping?"
"Parker can stay home and accept delivery of the goods while you drive the ladies around," Jeff suggested.
"No way!" Virgil sounded even more displeased at the suggestion. "Parker's the chauffeur. I don't mind staying here and signing delivery dockets."
Scott tried to placate his brother. "We thought you might enjoy it."
Virgil was incredulous. "You thought I might enjoy shopping with a couple of women?"
Rather than become angry at his son's obstinacy, Jeff's voice softened. "We thought… that… you might like the opportunity to try out a few pianos… to replace the old one."
"New p…" Virgil went silent.
"Better you try them out personally rather than leave it to us," Scott told him. "You can get what you like… A quality instrument… Not something that some salesman wants to sell us."
Virgil found his voice. "Isn't it salvageable?"
Scott shrugged. "Gordon did suggest drilling holes in the bottom and letting the water drain out…"
"The man's a Philistine," Virgil growled.
"A few holes won't restore it," Jeff said. "Better buy a new one, Son. Choose something you like."
"I don't have to take Penny, do I? She'll insist that I buy a pink one."
Scott laughed. "John had the same concerns about the rest of the house. That's why you've got to go with them."
Virgil sat back and tried to be nonchalant. "Okay, I'll see if I can find anything halfway decent."
"Don't take too long about it," Jeff suggested. "John's itching to help with the repairs and I don't want to leave Thunderbird Five unattended until we've got the radio mast operational again. And to do that we need Thunderbird Two."
"Okay. Do you want me to get anything else?"
"If we do we'll let you know, but I think that's a pretty comprehensive list."
"I'll say," Virgil was shuffling through the papers. "I see swimming pool tiles are on here. Do you think Gordon would complain if we let Penny choose them?"
"We didn't let him touch your piano, don't spoil his pool," his father warned.
Virgil chuckled. "Okay. Any other instructions?"
"Negative. Call us tonight and let us know when you think you'll be leaving."
"F-A-B." Virgil signed off.
Jeff rotated his shoulders to relieve the tension in them and gave Scott a wry grin. "He took that better than I expected."
"Only after he reminded himself that it was only the piano and not one of us," Scott informed him. "I'll guarantee that Virgil's out in Penny's car at this very moment, warming the motor and leaning on the horn to get the ladies to hurry up."
Jeff smiled at the mental image. "I don't mind if he does. I'm looking forward to having the family, including John, all together again..."
To be continued…
(1) Selamat pagi - Good morning
(2) Apa khabar?" - How are you?
(3) Selamat Sejahtera - Hello
(4) Khabar baik - Fine, good