Chapter 7

Gordon was awake long before Virgil the following day. He quietly flicked through the TV channels, the volume down low, until he heard his brother moving around in the bedroom. Experience had taught him not to disturb Virgil's slumber unless he fancied being in close proximity to a grumpy bear.

As Virgil stumbled through his morning routine Gordon made himself useful fixing breakfast. He searched through cupboards and the fridge and was relieved to see that Virgil kept the apartment well stocked. Both brothers had a voracious appetite and a fast metabolism. By the time Virgil had finished his shower the eggs were in the pan and the coffee was brewing. When he emerged from his bedroom wearing yet another red checked shirt Gordon was just plating up.

"Hey, you can stay more often." The appreciation was mumbled around a slice of toast from the large stack in the middle of the table. The portions were generous and the eggs were light and fluffy with just the right amount of seasoning. "When did you learn to cook?"

"Right around the time you and John moved out and me and Alan got shipped to the coast. Dad wasn't often back in time for dinner."

Virgil could sense there was a story to tell there but knew better than to press the issue, especially before he had had a second cup of coffee. During his own visit back home he had taken on the cooking without even thinking about it and hadn't given a second thought as to who normally kept the household fed.

"I'll cook tonight if you want" Gordon said, tucking into his own pile of eggs. "If you want pizza though you'll have to ask Alan next time you're back. That kid has a knack for dough. Just don't touch his pasta, I've never known someone find simple boiling so hard."

"Sounds great, you can show me what you can do. Maybe you'll end up at catering college."

Virgil's joke fell flat as he sensed the shields rising up around Gordon. It seemed any mention of the future made his brother touchy as hell. He made a mental note to avoid all talk of future plans for the rest of Gordon's stay, even if they were only made in jest. Unfortunately he still had his own work to do, troubled brother or not.

"So Gordon, I've got a lab slot today. I was going to take you in and show you around but perhaps engineering isn't really your thing."

Gordon shook his head gently.

"Hey, there's a pool a couple of blocks over, it should be pretty quiet at the moment. How about you put yourself through your paces this morning then we can hang out in the afternoon once I've got back from campus."

This sounded infinitely preferable to Gordon. The routine of swimming was ingrained now and he had thrown his kit into his bag as a matter of habit. The idea of watching Virgil doing…whatever it was Virgil did was not appealing, especially now knowing of his father's ulterior motive for suggesting he spend time with one of his college based brothers.

With breakfast over and the dishes carefully washed the brothers departed and headed their separate ways; Gordon heading to the pool while Virgil made his way onto campus.

Just a few short minutes later Gordon was stood, bag in hand, outside the pool building. It was shut. A noticed taped to the door proclaimed the apologies of the management for unscheduled maintenance and the assertion that the facilities should be open again the following day.

Gordon dug out his phone and tried to call Virgil but the line connected straight through to voicemail. Virgil had warned him that there was a policy of no phones in the labs and workshops and it looked like he had already missed the opportunity to get hold of his sibling. He didn't have a key to the apartment either. Apparently the spare set was with the letting agent, whoever that was, but even if he could find the right place there is no way they would just hand over the keys to him even if he did have the right surname. Instead of a morning burning off his frustrations in the water he was faced with the prospect of being stuck in a strange city, alone for the next few hours until Virgil resurfaced from his project.

He wandered back past the apartment and towards campus with the vague hope that he might bump into Virgil but deep down he knew that hope was futile. Shopping didn't appeal and galleries and museums had never been his thing. He was destined for a boring morning.

His footsteps led him to a small square and he flopped down onto one of the hard, metal benches that lined the perimeter. He may as well wait here as anywhere. The wind was picking up and the enclosed space gave him some protection from the chill air that felt like it was blowing straight off the surrounding mountains. The clouds above looked dark and stormy and the day had turned unseasonably cold. The turbulent sky matched his mood. It felt like the entire world was conspiring to stop him from swimming.

The first rain drops soon began to fall. Heavy, penetrating globules of water that hit the ground with force before bouncing back up again several inches. Within seconds the drops had turned into a raging downpour; the sort of rain that obscures your vision and soaks everything in an instant. The drumming sound of rain hitting concrete and roof slates filled Gordon's ears with white noise as though attempting to drown out his very thoughts. He sat there as the stinging rain beat against his body, turning the exposed skin of his cheeks a raw pink. In some perverse way the discomfort was enjoyable. A penance for being the sole aquatic element in a family that revolved around the sky and the stars.

A hand landed on Gordon's shoulder and broke through his reverie. He spun round on the bench to be confronted by a young man in military uniform gesturing to the store front behind him. He didn't have much choice but to follow as the man picked up his bag and dashed back to the cover of the building.

As the door slammed shut behind him the noise of the storm became muted. Two men were in the room, one sat behind a desk while Gordon's assailant and bag thief was shaking water off his cap. Both looked to be about 25 and were in contrasting uniforms.

"So, were you aiming on hypothermia or just trying to drown yourself out there?" his attacker come rescuer asked.

Gordon just shook his head mutely. His hair was slicked down against his head and the action caused trickles of water to drip down his cheeks. He unzipped his kit bag, pulled out a towel, and scruffed his hair back to some semblance of dryness.

"I was meant to go swimming but the pool was closed."

"And swimming in that downpour looked like a better idea than going home?"

"I'm just visiting. I'm locked out until my brother gets back from class."

"So how long do you need to wait?"

Gordon looked at his watch. "He'll probably be another couple of hours."

"Well you can't go back out in that, you're already shivering."

This was true. Stood there with his clothes plastered to his skin Gordon became uncomfortably aware of just how cold and wet he was. He tensed his core muscles in an attempt to still the shivers that made his body tremble.

The man behind the desk stood up and headed over to a coffee pot that was set up in the corner of the room. He called over his shoulder to his companion. "Kid's not getting ill on my watch. I'll make some coffee and you can take him upstairs and stick his clothes in the dryer."

Gordon felt like he had little choice but to follow the man through a door at the back of the office and up a narrow set of stairs. They were right about one thing; he couldn't sit out in the rain for hours.

The upstairs of the building was converted into a tiny flat and the two military personnel evidently lived up there, despite their conflicting services. There was a small living area with kitchenette built along one wall and a couple of extra doors that Gordon assumed led to a bathroom and bedrooms. Gordon soon found himself kitted out in a pair of dry sweatpants and a hoodie while his own sopping wet clothes were put through a drying cycle.

Back downstairs, with borrowed clothes and a hot coffee warming him through, Gordon began to take more notice of his surroundings and his temporary companions. Emblems of the World Security Patrol and its four component parts adorned the walls. Badges of the World Space Patrol, World Navy, World Army Air Force and Universal Secret Service all had their place.

With nothing else to do until his clothes had finished drying Gordon settled in to make the best of it. The two staff seemed personable enough. One wore the uniform of the World Army while the other was clad in the WASP insignia of World Aquanaut Security Patrol, the submarine service of the World Navy. The pair were good natured with a touch of friendly inter-service rivalry. Coming from a military family himself Gordon was well versed in the different factions although he was more familiar with the United States Air Force than the various world forces on display.

"What is this place?"

"Joint Services Recruitment Office" came the response. "The World Security Patrol has offices all over the place. Good engineers are like gold dust which is why this office is so close to the campus. The different services staff it on rotation, two at a time."

"So how did the pair of you end up here?" Gordon asked.

"Random allocation for me" answered the World Army representative, who Gordon soon learned was called Daniels.

"I'd just got back from an extended submarine tour and my C.O. thought I could do with some sunshine. Not much of that today though; I stayed drier under water" laughed Green, the WASP who had pulled him in from the storm. "It's not too bad though, except for the land snails."

"Hey!" Daniels launched a promotional stress ball at Green. "Less of the land snail you jumped up sardine. Thank goodness I've only got to put up with you for another eight weeks."

The two men evidently got on well together. The traded insults were laced with laughter. It was a far cry from the attitude his eldest brother displayed while in uniform. Maybe it was the lack of officers to keep them in check or maybe Scott just didn't have a sense of humour any more that accounted for the difference; the pair in front of him certainly weren't dour or serious.

"I can't see Scott being happy getting sent to one of these places."

"Scott?"

"Eldest brother. He's Air Force. He's not happy unless he breaks mach three at least twice a week."

This description was greeted by a double eye roll, evidently WASP and World Army were prepared to unite against a common enemy.

"That's flyboys for you. I guess this isn't the brother who locked you out?"

"Nope, Virgil's here doing his postgrad at the moment. Some sort of engineering project. I'm only here for a few days while Dad is out of town."

"So you like to swim, huh? Think you can swim 200 meters in under three minutes?"

"Stop trying to recruit the kid, Green."

"Hey! It's my job at the moment, of course I'm going to have a try."

A competitive glint appeared in Gordon's eye.

"Think I can do it in under three minutes?" he mused, cocking his head as though seriously considering the question. "I know I can do it in one, forty-four point two."

"Like hell you can. Jeez, that's gotta be some kind of record."

Gordon just smirked. Out of the pool and with clothes on he wasn't particularly recognisable, his father's policy of minimal contact with the media had seen to that. The pair in the recruiting office only knew his first name and had nothing to go on to connect him to the Olympics. He couldn't help but feel a little bit boastful at the chance to show off his achievement.

"Yup. Butterfly. Set it out at the Games a few weeks back."

"Wait? You're Gordon Tracy?"

Gordon nodded.

"Bloody hell. The guys back at base aren't gonna believe I had you in my recruiting office."

Green was now actively goggling at him and even the more reserved Daniels was looking slightly thunderstruck.

"Told you to stop with the recruitment spiel. He's got better things to do than mess about in your tin cans."

"Those tin cans are highly specialised submarines I'll have you know."

The pair were back to the ribbing that seemed to characterise their working relationship. Gordon looked on enviously at the obvious camaraderie that existed despite their differing career paths. It showed a team spirit that he yearned for and the idea of locking himself away from his family at the bottom of the ocean was sounding pretty good at the moment.

Before his brain had fully caught up with his mouth he blurted out "So what would I have to do other than swim to get my hands on one of those subs?"

Gordon left the recruitment office a few hours later with more than just dry clothes. Stuffed in the bottom of his kit bag was a print out of the scores from the aptitude and reaction tests he had sat there which showed he more than met the standard required for WASP. On top of these Green had placed an application form which, if submitted alongside the test results, would earn Gordon an invitation to a selection week.

He had no real plans and sitting the tests had more been something to do to pass the time until Virgil was back. The military was Scott's thing, not his, but Green had been animated and engaging in his description of the submarine service giving Gordon much food for thought. The picture he painted of service life was very different to the stories Scott brought home. Perhaps it was because WASP was a peacekeeping entity rather the aggressive environment of Scott's fighter unit or perhaps it was the idea of exploring the oceans that appealed but something made him keep the forms.

Gordon shoved the whole idea to the back of his mind, burying it as deep as the paperwork that was hidden at the bottom of his kit bag.

xoxoxox

By the time Gordon made it back to the apartment Virgil was there to let him in.

"Good swim?" A mug of the ever-present coffee was placed in front of him before Virgil returned to the kitchen. Gordon picked up the mug and wandered over, leaning against the door frame to watch as his brother made a start on lunch.

"Pool was shut. Should be ok tomorrow though."

"Shut? You found something else to do, right?" Virgil looked up from where he was buttering a stack of bread for sandwiches, feeling a gnawing guilt at his little brother being left alone in a strange city. The concern was clearly evident in his voice.

"It was fine. Even without a pool I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself for a few hours."

"I know you are. Do you want tomatoes in with your ham? Or I've got mustard if you prefer."

"Tomatoes please. You got any cheese?"

"Sure just grab the block out the fridge for me and I'll add some in."

The pair manoeuvred round each other in the small space, passing ingredients back and forth until a sizeable stack of sandwiches had been created. They carried them over to the table and settled down to eat.

"I've rearranged my lab slots so I don't have to go back to campus for a few days" Virgil mumbled around a mouthful of bread. "I'll still have to fit in some work here but it means you won't be on your own so much."

"You didn't have to do that. I don't need babysitting."

"I didn't do it because I think you need babysitting, I did it so we can actually spend some time together. Maybe watch some movies. You know, catch up a bit."

Gordon looked for signs of an ulterior motive but instead saw only genuine honesty in Virgil's expression. Now it was his turn to feel guilty for second guessing his brother's intentions. Since when had he got so suspicious of everything? Probably since he found out this trip was yet another attempt by his father to mould him into the narrow ideals of what a good son should look like.

"Sorry. I guess I'm still a bit on edge. Even half a continent away I still feel like Dad is watching and keeping an eye on me."

Virgil swallowed his mouthful, all too aware that Jeff was rather more than half a continent away. At that very moment he knew their father was somewhere in the South Pacific making sure the island that had been chosen as the future family home was just right before completing the purchase.

"So, this afternoon?"

"Films sound good, just none of that art house stuff." After his soaking he didn't fancy heading out anywhere again that day but he also wasn't in the mood for some high-brow foreign language film or any of Virgil's other niche preferences. "You sure you don't need to do any more work today."

"Maybe just half an hour or so to transfer my notes from the lab but I can always do that later."

"How about you get that done while I clean up from lunch and fix us some snacks for the film. I think I spotted some corn kernels when I was looking for the salt earlier. Can't have a film without popcorn."

"If you're sure? Kernels are in the top cupboard. I don't have a popcorn maker here so you'll have to use the stove, are you ok with that?"

Gordon's only response was to roll his eyes; of course he would be fine making popcorn on the stove. He started to clear the plates.

Virgil, free of chores, headed over to his desk. He rummaged through his bag and dug out the smart moleskin notebook that he liked to use for rough notes, he found it easier to doodle down sketches on paper than on his tablet. Soon he was completely engrossed in transposing figures and observations into his main files and cross referencing against the work he had done previously.

He was snapped back to the present by the arrival of Gordon on his elbow with a cup of coffee. Once he was in the zone he could completely lose track of his surroundings, he had almost forgotten his brother was even there.

"We can save the films until tomorrow if you want to carry on."

"No, it's fine. Just give me a couple more minutes, I'm nearly done."

Gordon picked up a file that was half covering a coaster to make space for the mug. One or two loose pages slipped free and made a bid for freedom. He carefully put down coffee then dived under the desk to retrieve the pages.

"Oh, sorry", he took a look at the pages as he straightened up. "I didn't realise your project was in aviation. That thing doesn't look like it should be able to fly though, it's like a bumble bee with those stupid stubby wings."

Virgil flustered slightly and snatched the pages out of Gordon's hand with a little more force than was strictly necessary, hurriedly stuffing them back in the folder before shutting the whole bundle away in a drawer.

"Um, it's not. I mean, that's not my project. That's just something I'm working on for, um, after. Please, I'd uh, appreciate it if you didn't tell Dad what you've seen."

Gordon quirked an eyebrow in surprise. Whatever Virgil was working on it looked like their dad was unlikely to approve, or at least that's how it came across from Virgil's reaction. The last time he had seen Virgil acting so guilty was when he tried to deny eating Scott's Easter chocolate while still having the remnants smeared as evidence across his face.

"Chill, Dad and I don't exactly have a 'chats over dinner' type relationship. So what's the big deal? I thought I was the only one not toeing the parental line about future plans. Is he pressuring you to go into the Air Force like him and Scott?"

"It's nothing like that. And anyway, I'm a pacifist, remember? I think Dad knows me better than to suggest the military of all things"

"Well at least he knows what one of us likes. So, is this some PhD topic you're thinking of? Cos if it's to do with planes I'm sure Dad will be fine with it. Unless you're thinking of setting up solo as a competitor to Tracy Aviation, now that would make him pissed."

"Look, can you just drop it, please?"

Gordon was slightly taken aback by the abruptness, it normally took a lot to get their gentle giant riled up. It was almost impossible to have a fight with Virgil because it just wasn't in his nature to be argumentative. That wasn't to say that Virgil didn't have strong opinions, it was just that he was normally so uncontroversial that it was hard to disagree with him. Perhaps he wasn't the only one feeling the pressure to conform with their father's ideals.

"I'm sorry. I promise I won't tell Dad but, whatever it is you're working on, don't let him put you off. I'll understand if you don't want to talk about it but don't let him dictate your life. No point both of us being miserable."

"Yeah, maybe."

Virgil felt guilty leaving Gordon with the wrong impression but it was easier to let him believe that Jeff disapproved of his future plans than try and explain away what was really on the cards. He made a mental note to take better care of the notes he had made. Of course it would all be much easier if the whole family knew what was going on but Jeff had been adamant; no sharing anything with anyone he hadn't personally brought into the scheme, and that included younger brothers.

By mutual consent the brothers treated the future as a banned topic of conversation and by the time Gordon was due to return to Los Angeles he was in a much calmer frame of mind. A few days without the burden of responsibilities or parental scrutiny had soothed his soul and left him feeling lighter and more relaxed than he had for a long time.

Unfortunately all good things had to come to an end; he couldn't hide out in Denver forever, tempting as it may be. As the plane headed back west Gordon found his mood sinking like the setting sun he was heading towards.