Chapter 17

Gordon looked on, feeling totally helpless, as Brains set to work on John.

"Unfortunately, we have to do everything we can to help John while the infiltrator nanobots are repairing them."
"Won't that help them take him over again?"
"Yes," stammered Brains. "But it will also mean he recovers faster, and maybe even better, so that we can administer our nanobots."

"Okay," said Gordon, though he did not really understand the ins and outs of it. To him, John looked just as dead now as he had three hours ago.

"I wonder how Dad's doing."

"Scott said he would call when there was news, Gordon."

"Yeah, Brains. I know."

Brains had hooked up John to every life support system they had- fluids, oxygen, all kinds of monitors, and stood back as if to admire his work. Gordon looked at him, as if asking for results. Brains pulled back the cover to reveal John's pasty chest. To Gordon's utter astonishment, the bullet wounds were gone, replaced by large, weeping red sores. These were serious injuries perhaps, but certainly an improvement on the peppered gunshot wounds. John still looked very ill, though his lips were now more white than blue.

"Is he okay, Brains?" asked Gordon.

The heart monitor started up.

"He's alive, Gordon."

Brains drew up a very large syringe and walked over to John with it.

"What's that?"
"Coded nanobots."

"You're going to kill the ones that are healing him, now?"

"Yes."

"Why don't you wait until they have put him back to normal?" asked Gordon.

"Because then it may be impossible for my nanobots to defeat them. Now that they are all occupied with John, it will be easier for mine to defeat the infiltrator nanobots," stammered Brains.

Gordon nodded, and Brains slowly emptied the syringe into the port on John's hand.

"Nothing's happening!" said Gordon.

"We have to wait," said Brains.

"Sorry, Brains. I'm not very good at waiting."

"Mr. Tracy?" said a voice. Scott was waiting by Virgil, sleeping in recovery, and he unconsciously looked behind him for his father for a moment, before realising that the voice was addressing him.
"Yes?"

The tall doctor, dressed in red scrubs with a mask dangling from his neck strode over to Scott, and spoke to him in a low voice.
"Your father is Jeff Tracy?"

"Yes."

"I'm Dr. Liu, I performed your father's neurosurgery," said the doctor in a broad New Zealand brogue.

Scott shook his hand. "Thank you for seeing me."
The doctor nodded. "He had a depressed skull fracture, and a subarachnoid haemorrhage. The surgery went well,-"

Scott cut him off. "So he's okay?"

"He's on his way to intensive care, Mr. Tracy. We did all he could, now it's up to him. It's a waiting game, I'm afraid."

Scott clenched his fist. "Always with the waiting!" he growled.

"Are you alright, Mr. Tracy? You look tired.""I'm sorry, doctor, its just with all the, pirates, and all, it's been a tough couple of days."
"Yes, someone told me that there were pirates involved. I thought it was a joke. I'm sorry. Were you at sea?"
"No, we live on an island."
"I see." The doctor raised each of his eyebrows in turn.

"Be straight with me please, doctor. What are my father's chances?"
The doctor smiled, stretching his lips into a thin line. "We relieved the immediate problem, but we don't know how much damage had already been done. He could make a full recovery," said the doctor.

"But?" said Scott.

"He might never wake up. And at the moment, it could go either way."

Scott shook the doctor's hand again. "Thank you again, doctor."
"That's alright, Mr. Tracy."

The doctor left, and Scott decided to get some air while he let the news sink in. He walked out of the front doors to the ambulance bay, and lit a cigarette from his pocket. He sat down on a bench and dragged on the cigarette deeply. It did make him feel a little better. He finished it quickly and sat still with his elbows resting on his knees.

He was joined after three more cigarettes by Tin-Tin.

"Hello, Scott," she said. "Are you alright?"
"Sure, Tin-Tin. How are you?"

"Can I have a cigarette?"

Scott flipped open his cigarette case and offered it to her. She took one and placed it in her mouth to hold it to the lighter that Scott held for her. She breathed in deeply for a few minutes, and Scott did not interrupt until she had finished.

"How's your father?" asked Scott.

"He's fine. He came out of surgery alright, he's just sleeping off his anaesthetic."

"Yeah?"

"They say if he feel's okay he can go home tomorrow."

"Home, huh? What's left of it."
"Come on, Scott, we can fix the place up in no time!"
"That's not what I mean, Tin-Tin."
"Oh," she said, forlornly. "How's your father?" she said tentatively.

"Same," he said sadly. Tin-Tin put her arm around him.

"He'll get through it, Scott. If anybody can, it's Jeff Tracy!"

Scott nodded half-heartedly.

Tin-Tin nudged him. "Come on! Let's go and see Alan."

Alan was in the intensive care unit, at the opposite end to Jeff. As he walked past, Scott peered in at his father. He was surrounded by staff and machines, in a private room. Scott hung his head. Tin-Tin beat him to Alan's bed, on the ward, with curtains sectioning him off from the patients either side of him.

"Hey, kiddo!" said Scott cheerfully, and patted Alan's ankle.
Alan opened his eyes. "Hello!" he croaked. He smiled lovingly at Tin-Tin, who returned it.

"How do you feel?" asked Scott.

"Pretty good, actually. A little tired, maybe."

"Hey, great!"

Alan noticed that Scott's enthusiasm was a façade. "How's Virg?"
"He's alright, still in recovery."

"Kyrano?"
"He's absolutely fine, Alan," said Tin-Tin.

"Dad?" asked Alan, his voice now very quiet, weakened with the effort of talking.

Scott chuckled. "He's going to be okay. You just get yourself better, kiddo!"

"I'm not a child, Scott."
"No. You're not." Scott sighed. "He could be okay. We just have to hope for that, Alan."

Alan nodded, and his head lulled to one side to look at Tin-Tin.

"Get some rest, Alan," she said.

Scott walked to the other end of the ward, and approached Dr. Liu, who was standing at the desk in the middle of the entrance hall.
"Dr. Liu?"

"Mr. Tracy. Can I help you?"
"I was wondering if there had been any change with my father?"
"I am afraid not, Mr. Tracy. His condition is unchanged."

"And my brother, Alan?"

"Alan Tracy?"
"Yes, the blonde kid in the second from last bed on the right."

"Let me find out for you."
Dr. Liu went into Jeff's room, and Scott could see him speaking with another doctor through the thin strips of light left by the blinds. Presently, he came out.
"He's going to be fine, Mr. Tracy. He will recover well, we just need to keep him here because he is going to require some advanced care for a while, and then he can go home."

"Excellent, thank you, Doctor."

"Pleasure!" said the doctor, and departed.

Brains was fiddling with his computer; examining a phial of blood he had taken from John, and comparing to the results to those he had taken at hourly intervals for the last five hours.

"All these nanobots are coded, Gordon."
"Okay," said Gordon, and watched as Brains injected another load of the coded nanobots into the port in John's hand.

"So what's that for?" said Gordon.

"Just making sure, Gordon." Brains wiped his brow with his sleeve.

Gordon turned around and looked out of the tiny window. It was frosted, and he could not see very much. He frowned and shoved his hands into his pockets. His musings were interrupted by the now familiar sound of the alarm from the heart monitor.

"VF!" cried Brains, and ran into the sickroom, returning with the defibrillator.

"Ah, crap! Not again!" said Gordon, and started to bag his brother. Brains took the paddles off the top of the defibrillator, in anticipation. His fears were soon realised.

"Asystole!" he said, and placed both paddles in one hand so that he could thump on John's chest. After three times there was no effect, so he took a paddle in each hand and charged the machine.

"Clear."
Gordon held off and John's body jolted. He wept quietly. "John, this is getting really old. Quit playing around!" he said.

"Asystole!" said Brains again, and shocked John again.

"Come on, John!" cried Gordon, and bagged his brother once more.

"Asystole!"

Brains shocked him again. There was no effect.

"Keep going, Gordon!" said Brains, and ran back into the sickroom. He was gone about 10 seconds, and returned with a loaded syringe.
"Lidocaine!" said Brains, responding to Gordon's worried look.
"Charging." Said the machine, and Gordon stood clear while John was shocked.

"Asystole!"

"Charging."
"John, it wasn't Virgil who broke your telescope in 2048! It was me! I did it because you too my speak 'n' spell to pieces! I did it to get back at you!"

"Sinus tachycardia!" said Brains, and let go of the paddles, causing them to bounce around on their coiled cords. Brains checked the respiration monitor, and hooked John back up to the oxygen support machine.

"What now?" asked Gordon.

"Now that there is no danger from the nanobots, we can call the doctor!" stammered Brains.

"Shouldn't we take him to the hospital?"
"No. He's too unstable to move."

Gordon was out of the door immediately. "I'm on it!" he said.

"Hopefully he'll get here before this happens again!" said Brains to himself.