Chapter 7

Jeff began to feel weary as he lay looking at John. He approached John's bed and leaned over him.

"John?" he asked, quietly. "John?" he said , louder this time. John did not rouse, but snored and mumble, fast asleep. His eyelids flickered and his mouth twitched. Jeff did not want to be fooled again. He picked up a cotton bud from a glass jar on the counter top, and carefully held it just inside John's nose. He did not react. Jeff was relieved. He yawned and stretched. The clock above the window showed three o'clock. In three hours, Virgil would take over, and Jeff would be able to get some sleep.

He was pacing up and down the room, looking at some of the more curious medical instruments, when he thought he heard a sound from John. Immediately nervous, he turned and went straight to the head of John's bed. His condition seemed unchanged. Looking more closely, he saw a trickle of blood coming from John's ear. With one hand he reached toward the panic bar, but his keenness to help John got the better of him. He leaned closer to see more definitively the origin of the blood. In an instant, John's eyes opened, and his face assumed a look of sheer panic.

"Get away from me, Father! I can't control myself!" shouted John. Before Jeff could dive for the panic bar, John hit Jeff above the eyes with the full force of his own head. Blood erupted from the point of impact of both men, but while Jeff sank to the floor, John rotated his head and cackled at his father as he lost consciousness. John pulled on all of his restraints with one almighty wrench. They all broke, filling the air with tiny strips of cotton and fibres. John pulled the curtain across his bed, partially blocking the view from the door, and unceremoniously threw his insentient father onto it. He pulled the covers over him, and quietly made for the door. He slipped into the dark corridor without making a sound.

Brains was sitting in front of the bench in his lab, on a high stool. He was folding his feet first in front of, then behind the legs of the stool, deep in concentration. He was surrounded by books on analytical chemistry, and had several open in front of him.

"Damn it!" he shouted, and pushed the nearest pile of books onto the floor. The sound of them slapping the floor shocked him out of his brief rage, and he stood to gather them up. As he did so, he found one of them open on an unfamiliar page.

"Electron microscopy?" he said. "Of blood? Interesting." He dropped the book again, and hastily rushed about the lab, gathering equipment. He prepared his computer and scanning electron microscope, and waited eagerly for the results. He chewed at his already split and ragged fingernails in anticipation.

"Great Schrödinger's ghost!" exclaimed Brains. He hit print on his keyboard, and listened impatiently to the whirring mechanical sound from the printer. "Come on, come on!" Brains flapped his hands as if to make the process faster, and snatched out the black and white image from when it was , and raced to the sickroom.

At first glance, there was nothing out of place in the sickroom. Brains entered, and failed to notice John's bed. But to his surprise, there was nobody else in the room. "Mr. Tracy?" he called. As he turned around, he noticed the shredded restraints on the floor, and then saw Jeff lying on his back, with one hand hanging over the edge of John's bed. "Mr. Tracy! Can you hear me!" There was no reply. Brains leaned over, grabbed hold of the back of Jeff's belt, and pulled him onto his side. Then he rushed over and banged on the panic bar. He went back to Jeff, and stood with his hand on Jeff's head, hyperventilating.

He was soon joined by Scott and Virgil, fully clothed, and Gordon, in a pair of jogging bottoms.
"What is it, Brains?" asked Scott, and Brains drew back the curtain. "Father!"

Virgil put his fist on his father's chest and shook him, hard. It made tiny specks of blood decorate the bedclothes with tiny red specks. "Can you hear me, Dad?"

"Are you alright, Brains?" asked Scott. Brains' face was wan, and his knuckles were white as he gripped the metal bed frame. He was silent for some minutes, breathing rapidly, and bent over to get his breath back.

Jeff groaned and clutched at his head.

"Are you alright, Mr. Tracy?" asked Brains. "What happened?"

"It was John. He attacked me. He just launched himself at me. Where is he?"

"We don't know, Father," replied John.

"I did some more tests, Mr. Tracy. It isn't good news," said Brains.

"Out with it, Brains!" said Jeff, and slowly sat up. Virgil helped him to clean up his face.
"I looked at a blood sample with the electron microscope, and I found these." Brains held up the image he had printed, and struggled to keep his hands still enough to let everyone see it.

"What the hell are they?" asked Scott.

Virgil drew in a sharp breath and clapped his hand over his mouth. "Nanobots!" he said.

"What?" said Scott.

"They're tiny little robots. I worked with some back when I was at DSAT. But mine were bigger," said Virgil.

"How did they get into John?" asked Jeff.

"I don't know, Mr. Tracy. This is very advanced technology. I am pretty sure that these nanobots are responsible for John's rapid healing, and his improved strength and stamina," stuttered Brains.

"When we found him he had a pinprick, bruised wound on his neck!" said Scott.

"It wasn't there when he got here!" exclaimed Brains. "It's possible that's how they got in, and they would have starting work on healing that wound first of all."

"So someone did this to him? Why?"

"I don't know, Mr. Tracy."

"What about the fact that he's gone crazy-eight bonkers?" said Gordon.

"That too, Gordon, I suppose," said Brains.

"John's still in there," said Jeff. "I think he tried to warn me before he attacked me," said Jeff.

"Perhaps John still has some control," said Brains.

"What does this mean, Brains?" asked Jeff, with his hand across his closed eyes.

"Well, Mr. Tracy, if the nanobots are in his blood, they are probably in all of his systems."

"So what will happen to him?"

"I don't know, Mr. Tracy. Perhaps the reason that we could not pierce John's skin with a needle was because they sense John when John is going to be hurt. Perhaps they were trying to protect him."
"I never heard of anything like that!" said Scott, shaking his head.

"It's theoretically possible, I suppose," said Virgil. "If you could get the nanobots to effectively communicate with each other, you could make them fast and efficient at all kinds of things, right at the molecular level!" said Virgil.

"So he's been rewired?" asked Gordon.

"I suppose that's a good analogy, Gordon. It might explain why he had the seizure, and the strange observations. Perhaps they were rewiring his brain!" said Brains.

"What about when he died. Or didn't die. You know what I mean!" asked Gordon.

"I'm not sure. Maybe he simply died, or didn't die, from his head injury, or blood loss, and it just took the nanobots a few hours to fix it," said Brains.

"How do we get them out of him, Brains!" asked Jeff, urgently.

"I don't know, Mr. Tracy." Brains hated telling Jeff that.

"Suppose we can't get them out of him. What happens then?" asked Scott.

"John could be under the control of the nanobots, Scott. And whoever programmed their objective," said Brains, seriously.
"Could somebody have done this to infiltrate International Rescue?" asked Jeff.

"I don't know that either, Mr. Tracy. Clearly somebody did this to John, but as of now it is person or persons unknown," said Brains.

"So John might give us away!" said Scott, touching his chin.

"There's no telling what he might do," said Brains, hanging his head.

"Brains, find a way to kill those things!" said Jeff. "Somebody call Alan and warn him that Thunderbird 5 may be in danger."

Brains and Scott nodded and left to carry out their designated tasks. Jeff tried to stand but his head throbbed and swam, and Virgil had to help him back onto the bed.

"Are you going to be alright, Father?" he asked.

"Don't worry about me," breathed Jeff, weakly. "Just find your brother."