CHAPTER SIX
As he sifted through the demons' mental pictures of each person in the house he now knew existed on an island in the Pacific Ocean, Belah Gaat recognized Jeff Tracy immediately, and surmised that the rest of the young men were his five sons, who had disappeared from public life around the same time the elder Tracy had. Belah grinned. Now he knew why.
There were two women living in the home as well, and he saw a picture of his half-brother Kyrano on one of the women's bedside tables, so he imagined the girl must be related to him somehow. Quite by accident, the marionette that looked like John Tracy had stumbled upon yet another man sleeping in a room set apart from the others. Belah concentrated, for he was almost certain he knew the man. Recognition dawned on his face as he snapped his mind back to the present.
Now Belah knew what he needed to know. International Rescue was none other than the Tracy family. Tracy Corporation had numerous companies under its umbrella, many of which were scientific in nature. Belah had a handful of spies scattered throughout most of those companies for purposes of stealing technological secrets. But now, now those spies would be even more useful to him.
He immediately set about contacting each of them and giving them specific instructions. Yes, he was certain he knew the man he'd just seen in his mind. Knew him from long ago...
It was the year 2020. Belah Gaat had been working for years to increase his wealth in whatever despicable way he could. After his last four schemes in a row had failed, however, he decided his best bet for acquiring the technology he desired was to find the smartest person in the world and use his special powers to "convince" them to do his bidding.
After several months of searching, he had come across a vid lecture given by an eighteen-year old who didn't look like much, but sounded like he had the knowledge Belah sought. His research told him this man was, by all accounts, a certified genius, and that he had several degrees to his name, including two doctorates. He excelled in a variety of fields, with thermodynamics and trigonometry seemingly his favorites.
It took Belah some time, but he eventually found out the teen would be giving a lecture on Patgora's Theory of Absolute Zero, a new idea that had recently sprung up in the scientific community. Belah had no interest in the lecture itself, only in the man presenting it. On November 19, 2020, Belah donned a ginger-haired mask, dressed in a smart black business suit, and headed for the University of Cincinnati in the United States.
He arrived and found himself in the company of many faces he recognized from his years of sabotage and spying. At precisely four o'clock in the afternoon, Belah took a seat in the front row of the theater as a tall, lanky young man appeared on stage. He wasn't much to look at, to be sure: his short, brown hair was cut rather unattractively, and large horn-rimmed glasses sat upon his small nose. He was dressed in a dark blue pantsuit that looked like it went out of style ten years before.
He was nervous, and didn't even bother to introduce himself to the audience before beginning the lecture. He stuttered terribly, something which annoyed Belah greatly. Seeing as how he didn't care about the material, however, he concentrated instead on his plans for the young scientist. For, stutter or no, Belah knew this was the man he needed. His brain may have been brilliant beyond belief, but Belah could sense his mind was weak when it came to more...supernatural considerations. He would be easy to control. So easy.
And once Belah had control of him, the possibilities were endless. He would have someone creating new inventions for him, some of which, he knew, would be years ahead of their time. He'd done his homework on the man's ideas and was duly impressed. His theories were often scoffed at by the more tried-and-true members of the scientific community, but Belah saw the potential in them. There was no doubt in his mind: by this time tomorrow, Hiram K. Hackenbacker would be his.
December 26, 2027 (present day)
Alan's eyes snapped to the bed as John stirred for the first time since he'd been found. "John? You with me?"
He groaned, automatically bringing a hand to his head. "Did you get the license plate on that truck?"
Alan smiled as he buzzed the Lounge. "Father, send Tin-Tin in here. John's waking up."
"She's on her way."
"Oh, what happened?" John moaned, wincing as he touched the now-cleaned and closed gash on his head.
"I was hoping you could tell me."
Tin-Tin arrived and, after greeting John warmly, began checking his vitals.
"Ah, lemme think a minute."
Alan nodded and waited patiently. He could almost see John's mind working through the events of Christmas night, trying to sort everything out. He knew from personal experience what a good knock on the head could do to you. It was always like trying to cut through a dense fog, and it took time.
Finally, Tin-Tin pronounced him healthy and headed for the Lounge to report as much to the rest of the family. John sighed deeply as the memories came flooding back.
The night before...
John walked into his Sitting Room and the door swished gently closed behind him. He headed for the patio, taking his little marionette with him.
"Well, little guy, you're sure a disturbing thing to have around. Kinda weird seeing yourself as a doll on strings."
He held the puppet at arm's length, twitching a string here and there. An arm moved, a leg moved, eyes blinked, the mouth opened and shut. He frowned at its face, the resemblance was uncanny.
"That kid has some memory. You look just like me. I think I'm putting you in the closet."
There was no way John Tracy was going to have that little puppet staring at him all night while he tried to sleep. So he opened the closet nearest the head of his bed and laid it out on the top shelf.
"There ya go. Nice and comfy."
As the door slid closed, he gave an involuntary shiver. Something about that marionette made his skin crawl, but he just figured it was the fact that it looked so much like him. He turned to head back around the end of the bed, intent on taking a shower before going to bed. But a noise behind him caught his attention and he stopped dead in his tracks.
"What the heck?"
It was coming from inside the closet. He jumped as it sounded like something fell. Narrowing his eyes, John turned and approached the closet door again. He reached out to touch the button that would open it, but hesitated, his hand suspended in mid-air. Something told him not to open the door...but, he reasoned, that was silly. There was nothing in his closet. Gads, if only Gordon could hear his thoughts now...he'd have a field day! John's afraid of monsters in the closet! he'd chortle.
That thought pushed his hand the rest of the way to the button. As the door slid open, there was a whirlwind of blue, yellow and lavender as something came flying at him.
"AAAAAAAAAA!"
"It was the marionette?" Alan asked, aghast. "It attacked you?"
"Well, I can't be sure, but best I can figure it did, yeah. I don't know what else it could've been."
"All right. I need to check in with Dad, he'll want to know this. He's had Scott and Virgil round up all the marionettes. Something very weird is going on here."
"Weird? How?"
"You mean, other than you being attacked by an 18-inch doll?"
John snorted. "Yeah, other than that."
Alan briefly relayed the other experiences they'd had with the puppets before excusing himself and heading for the Lounge. John lay back in bed, his head slowly ceasing to throb as the ASA Tin-Tin had given him began to take effect.
"Living Puppets," John said softly as he drifted back to sleep. "Boy, they weren't kidding."
"You're certain you can't find it anywhere?"
"No, Dad, we've looked all over the place," Scott replied.
"Yeah, I even searched the Roundhouse," Gordon added.
"I've got a bad feeling about this," Jeff said, eyeing the large olive green object sitting in the middle of the Lounge.
The box was made of Formula C30/1, the same material that comprised the Mole's drill bit. It measured four feet by four feet square. Jeff, Kyrano, Grandma and the boys had located all marionettes and sealed them in the container. All except John's, and Jeff feared the worst.
"It must be with one of the Thunderbirds. We'll search in teams. Ah, Alan, good. Listen, we've rounded up all the marionettes. The only one we can't find is the one that looks like John. Have you gotten anything from him about what happened?"
"Yes, Father. His marionette attacked him," Alan reported, walking up to the desk.
"It what?" Virgil asked incredulously.
"Oh, my," Grandma breathed.
"He put it in the closet. He heard noise coming from inside and decided to investigate. When he opened the door, it just came flying at him. He felt something hit his head and that's the last thing he remembers."
"That's it. We've got to find that last marionette and destroy them all."
"But what's happening, Father?" Gordon asked. "They can't possibly be alive. They're puppets!"
"Kyrano?" Jeff said, nodding to his trusted friend, who'd been standing on the fringes of the group.
The Malaysian man bowed slightly as all eyes turned to him. "I once told Mr. Tracy a story. It is a legend from my country. Long ago, many years before my birth, an evil man with dark powers came to my village. He brought with him five dolls. These dolls began coming to life in the night. They killed many before it was realized who was responsible. The evil man was driven from the village and the dolls were burned to ashes. It was the only way the demons within them could be destroyed."
"Demons?" Grandma said, her forehead creasing into a frown. "You can't be serious."
"I knew it!" Scott said. "I've heard you tell that story before, Kyrano. I just didn't want to believe it."
"So this is the thing you said I wouldn't wanna know?" Virgil asked.
"Yeah."
"You were right."
"I don't know, Father" Gordon said, staring at the metal box. "You really think there is such a thing as demons? And that they're inhabiting the marionettes Nicky gave us?"
"How else do you explain John's puppet attacking him?" Jeff asked. "Besides which, it doesn't matter what the problem actually is, what matters is that one of those things is loose on the International Rescue base. Whoever it is that sent them here may have much more information right now than we want them to have. We've got to find that sixth marionette and destroy it, along with the others."
"What's the action, Father?"
"Scott, you and Alan check Thunderbird 1 Launch Bay and Hangar. Virgil, you and Gordon take Thunderbird 2 hangar. Kyrano, you and I will check Thunderbird 3 silo. Mother, you and Tin-Tin keep watch over John. I will help you inspect the Sick Room inch-by-inch. When I'm satisfied it's safe, I want you to lock the door and stay put until we give the all-clear. If that thing attacked John once, there's no telling whether or not it may try again."
Murmurs and nods of agreement scattered throughout the room. Everyone headed off to begin their assigned duties, but stopped when Jeff spoke again.
"Arm yourselves. We don't know for sure what we're up against. I'm not about to lose a family member because of an innocent Christmas gift."
It was dark and quiet inside Thunderbird 3. Suddenly the Control Panel in its cockpit lit up like a Christmas tree. In a sick recreation of real life, someone who looked like John Tracy sat in the pilot's chair...except this John Tracy was only 1-1/2 feet tall.
The marionette hissed and cackled with glee as it opened a telepathic channel to its master. It wanted to live again, to be granted eternal life. Surely the master would be most pleased if it not only showed the magnificent Thunderbird to him...
...but brought it to him as well.
