Many thanks, my friends. Nearly done. Bow Echo, Tikatu, Creative Girl, Thunderbird Shadow, Susan and HKP the M, hugs and gratitude! =) Freshly edited!
47
Nijo Palace, Kyoto, Japan-
For some reason, Captain Rigby did not fall as far, nor strike as hard, as he'd thought he would. Instead of shattering like a heroic egg all over the base of some deep, gloomy pit, he struck a few rotted beams… crashed through some fragile wood floors… and came up more or less smiling.
It was only then, when he'd shambled back onto his feet (after a moment or two of stunned blankness) that Wayne discovered Survivor's absence. Mostly because his back was sore… something wrong with the vertebrae… and it didn't immediately get better. Took awhile to heal up. Bad enough; but then, after examining both wrists in the light of his comm-unit, the Marine saw that Survivor wasn't just dormant. He'd left. For how long, Wayne couldn't guess.
This complicated his situation immensely. See, it was easy to be bold when you knew that, no matter what happened, you wouldn't be all-the-way-ticket-punched-final-call dead. Not forever. With Survivor along, he'd had insurance. Now… he just didn't know; which made the decision to keep moving, find kayo, the most courageous thing he'd done all day.
Wayne cleared his throat, widened that comm-unit glow, and had a swift look around. Found himself in a basement or cellar of some kind. Heavy on carved stonework and rusted metal, along with spears of decaying wood and green-glowing fungus. Your basic spooky dungeon, in other words.
He could hear and feel the movement of air, which meant there was maybe an opening, besides the one he'd crashed through to get there. No sound from Kayo, but possibly she was just lying low and playing it smart, until she found out for sure who… or what… had come calling.
"Miss Tracy…?" Wayne stage-whispered. For a moment longer, there was no sound but wind, and the faint patter of trickling sand. Then,
"Wayne? Captain Rigby, is that you?"
Tanusha Tracy, from off to his left a ways. Turning in that direction (and shutting off the comm-lamp) he could make out the glow of her body heat, along with somebody else's. Someone crouched, with both arms wrapped around their knees and bowed head, looked like.
"It's me," he admitted, starting forward. "Just, uh… decided to drop in and say hi," he joked, nervously. Followed that heat-glow right to her, thanking the stars that his alien guest had left him a few little gifts. "Are you alright, Miss Tracy? Is your brother with you?"
"I'm… under control," she whispered, in a lost-seeming, stony sort of voice. "And Scott is alive, but I'll need your help getting him out of here, Captain."
Took Rigby about two minutes to work his way to Kayo's location; threading a labyrinth of fallen beams and tumbled masonry. His footsteps echoed oddly, he thought; the space sounding more like an open, metallic expanse than a rubble-strewn chamber. But then, his senses were a mess after Survivor's augmentation and sudden departure. Nerves got in the way, too, being totally honest.
Anyhow, he found Tanusha standing beside her huddled oldest brother, one slim hand pressed to the top of Scott's head, as though somehow keeping him calm.
"What's happened to him?" Wayne asked the girl, coming cautiously forward. "Concussion? Shock?" And then, because these things happened, even to fit, younger men, "seizure?"
Kayo shook her head, slightly. Lovely, lost and remote, she seemed beyond words, or tears. Just leaned into his embrace a little, forehead touching that printed yellow "RECRUIT" blazoned across his chest.
Wayne hugged her, though she wasn't crying. Just shaking with anguish. He found out why, moments later.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
In a home that wasn't quite right, in the bedroom he'd once shared with John-
Sitting slouched on their study chair, facing his puzzled, red-haired brother, Scott shook his head. Pounding an arm of the seat for emphasis, he said,
"I'm not making this up, John… and I'm not crazy. I think. I'm just… something happened. I got into trouble, got captured, somehow. There were lots of questions, only I…. I don't think I answered them. Didn't tell them anything they wanted to know. And now, I'm here… Wherever that is."
He'd thought that talking to John, getting his astronaut brother's take on the situation, would clear matters up. Hadn't so far, though. Maybe because this John was only as smart as Scott's own subconscious? A figment of wishful delirium? Only way to tell was to ask something completely original. Something that he would not know, and John would.
Started by keeping it obvious, just in case he was facing an actor, in some kind of Scott-fooling play.
"Humor me, Pal… what'd you name your first pitcher's glove?"
John smiled a little, the expression looking remarkably like Mom's.
"Lacey," he said. "because, y'know, she's got laces."
Good answer. Not common knowledge, either. One more, as a baseline.
"Okay. Why'd you get cut from the Panthers, back in seventh grade?"
John reddened. Would have skipped answering, if he could have, but sensed Scott's urgency.
"Because Coach Shelton caught me out back of the equipment shed, with his daughter… only it was her idea. And I'm sure as h*ll not getting pushed into that, again! It was sort of scary. I mean, not… y'know…" he amended hurriedly. But Scott shook his head.
"S'okay, John. I get it, and I'm not trying to make fun of you. Just wanted some answers. Had to be sure who I'm talking to. So, uh… What's your least favourite language, and why?"
Caught by surprise, the red head considered. They would have to go down to chores and supper, soon, but he pondered a bit before saying,
"Greek. Don't ask me why… but it just sounds weird. Too much 'oi', if that makes any sense."
Scott chuckled.
"No, it doesn't, but I'll take your word for it. So… you're real. Do you believe I'm not crazy, John? That I'm not just making this up?"
His younger brother puffed out a long, gusty sigh.
"Don't know why you would. Not with academy entrance exams coming up. But… you were fine, this morning. Worst thing on your mind, then, was calculus and how to afford a used car. Why would you suddenly claim to be somebody else?"
"Not someone else," Scott protested. "Just older, with a different past."
Downstairs, they could hear Virgil come banging in through the back door, with Gordon and Alan.
"We're hooooooome!" the boys chorused in unison, stampeding for the fridge. Scott and John both stood up, because it didn't do to keep Granddad waiting.
"Talk more, after dinner?" Asked Scott, starting for the door. John nodded, briefly.
"Sure, if you like; but we've both got an early day ahead of us, tomorrow, so it's gonna have to be quick," his younger brother temporized. "You can tell me all about our giant battle robots, amazing super-powers, or alien space-babes, Scott. Just, y'know… summarize."
The pilot glanced back at John as they clattered downstairs. Hunh. Not "rescue craft". Not once had John mentioned Birds, or space stations. Not even Mars or the Moon. Evidence, maybe, that his brother was actually genuine, just very much younger? He sure hoped so, because more than anything else right now, Scott Tracy needed a friend… and a way out.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
Very far off, at the distant Manhattan Dead Zone-
With a passenger apiece, having received John's coded signal, Gordon and Alan broke for home. Thunderbird 3 did so openly, having never quite crossed that border. Buddy Pendergast was impatient, needing to embrace his wife and clasp Bluey's hand before he'd accept that all had, indeed, come right.
Thunderbird 4 was a great deal more cautious about departing "Lake Manhattan". For one thing, she was overloaded, with Ellie Pendergast and Charlie aboard. For another, Gordon 'd had to cut power and drift along with the rest of the junk, past the dead zone's border security sensors.
On the bright side, there was so much debris in that turbulent water… so many crashing trains and spiraling ground cars… that one small, darkened sub didn't trigger any alarms. Cody Beech might've been working for them, at that point, because it sure seemed like every functional camera wound up getting smashed by tumbling wreckage, just as Thunderbird 4 drifted past. No more brushes with giant marine reptiles, at least. With her shields down and power out, at neutral buoyancy, their battered small sub wouldn't have stood a snowflake's chance at a nuclear test site.
Had to run dark and silent. No talking, no moving, no using the sub's little bathroom. Not until well past that last chain of sensors, and into a deep, fast-moving current. Even then, they didn't switch their transponder on, because Thunderbird 4 was supposed to be all the h*ll away, on the other side of the planet. Needed pickup in a quick, fast hurry… but not until Virge wrapped things up in Pacifica City.
Till then, it was vegetable crunch snacks, off-key singalongs, and endless games of "I Spy" through the cockpit window. On the whole, one of Gordon Tracy's most memorable bonding experiences.
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
Pacifica City, very far down and away-
The answer was "yes, they could". Having reached the command center, with power available from various cobbled-together multi-tools, laser cuff-links, those lifting shoes, and His Majesty's bullet-proof defense harness, they had what they needed to access and reset the system.
Brendan Ming stubbornly refused to share proprietary Ming Hotels' security codes, or provide a retinal scan, but that didn't matter. Not with John Tracy along. If there was a computer system that John couldn't crack, he'd never encountered it yet.
Got the bridge lit back up using his exopod's power cell, then hacked in with Kate Hodnett's biometrics, and his own IR override. Five minutes, tops, till he had lights and power back on, then unlocked all the hatches and floodgates.
Some of the guests and crew then got out on their own, taking escape pods or hot-wiring some of those docked research and pleasure craft. More had to be rescued by Virgil and Lee, having been trapped for too long, with too little oxygen. Even so, that final landslide would have claimed hundreds of victims, for there just wasn't time enough to get everyone out. Not with just local transport and one busy diving bell.
Then, someone else arrived, whooping like a boy, at the head of a largish fleet of family yachts and borrowed submarines.
"What ho!" called out young, feckless Clarence (heir to all that really mattered in Britain). "Fling wide your gates, oh Pacifica City, for the lads have arrived… and the odd lass, but that's alright, we don't mind 'em!"
He'd brought along as many of his set as owned (or might pinch) private submarines, having promised the fun of crashing Penelope's stuffy aid-luncheon. That they ended up taking on passengers made it all that much more exciting, for now they could claim to be heroes, as well as gate-crashers.
Clarence himself rescued Bertie, along with five dogs, three cats and an unperturbed parasaurolophus. Got a kiss from his sister when she… with John Tracy, Parker and His Royal Majesty… emerged from a cramped little side passage.
"Pester!" she laughed, speeding forward to take Sherbert (who'd begun squirming and yipping quite madly). "Whatever are you doing here, dearest?"
He was most inappropriately dressed for a rescue, sporting a full morning coat and trousers, top hat and cane. Had his light brown hair slicked back, as well, even donning brilliant white spats.
"Why… emerging from darkness to enliven that dead bore of a 'fling' you've put on, of course! Whatever should you do for excitement, without me, Pee-Dee?"
Her younger brother peered at her over his wire-framed spectacles, blue eyes at once merry and earnest. One of his best mates… Ellsworth Porter-Renfrew… had harnessed (and was attempting to ride) Penny's dinosaur, who kept simply turning around on him. She ought to have been quite cross at these antics, but instead simply laughed.
"You are the most extraordinary pest!" she declared, fondly, conducting Clarence to King Denys. "Sir, my brother has arrived… late, I fear… for our little soiree. As we shall be leaving, presently, would you care to depart on the Creighton-Ward undersea yacht? Most of the docked craft have departed, it seems." Including the royal conveyance.
Denys smiled. Despite the urging of his remaining guards, and Lady Penelope, he'd not moved to the boats. Not yet.
"No, indeed, Good My Lady," he said to the beautiful operative. "I shall leave these premises last of all… and I find myself quite yearning to ride in Thunderbird 2."
"Naturally," said Virgil, who'd just loped up to shake John's hand, embrace Penny, and salute the King. Didn't bow, as he was American. "And, if you'll follow me, Sir, I'll get you a seat on the only Bird that matters."
Denys frowned, slightly.
"I had rather wait until all of my endangered subjects are safely away, Young Tracy. It is a sovereign's duty to care for their people, and I should like to supervise the evacuation proceedings."
Sure. Why not? Not like Pacifica City was rocked with tremors, about to slide into a trench, or anything. Virgil glanced over at John, who merely shrugged. After all, he was the King. You couldn't just clap him in restraints (like Brendan Ming) and then drag him off, shouting, to safety. Also, Virgil and John were needed, below. Lee couldn't get to everyone, all by himself. Not in time to do any good.
"Sir… I can't force you," the pilot admitted, dark eyes grim and perplexed. "But you're a role model. If you just stand around out here, looking relaxed, no one else 'll go, either. If the King leaves, they'll know things are serious."
Grimacing, Denys saw reason, and inclined his head.
"Very well, Mister Tracy. A role model and shepherd I shall be… but I still desire a ride in Thunderbird 2."
"You got it, Sir," Virgil promised. "Up in the cockpit, if you like."
"Oh, I say!" Clarence cut in, brightly. "Might I go, as well? Dear Pee-Dee is quite able to manage the hoary Creighton-Ward bark, and I should be most shattered to have come all this way, at great personal expense, only to leave in the ordinary fashion. Do say you've room in Thunderbird 2, up front! As I shall doubtless be disinherited again, for at least a fortnight, the journey will solace my loss."
The young nobleman gazed at Virgil so hopefully, with such open longing and worship, that the pilot grudgingly caved.
"Fine. You, too. But that's it!" he announced. "No more civilian passengers on the flight deck! Bottom line. Now, let's get these people moving. And, Sir, feel free to snap orders, as needed."
At last, even those much-delayed GDF rescue subs showed up, helping every last person… and critter… to escape from there safely.
The trench collapsed utterly, about ten minutes after the diving bell's final trip. With a noise like the divine ancestor of all landslides, half a mile of rock-and-mud cliff-face plunged away into darkness, taking the city right along with it. The structure heaved and twisted; dome cracking, power failing, lights exploding as they met cold, rushing seawater. Then, with a tremendous roar, Pacifica City vanished over the edge.
John and Penny watched it go, from the safety of HMS Honour. Despite Clarence's assertion, it was John who piloted that sleek and luxurious submarine yacht. Shaking his head, he growled,
"Never again. Next time you invite me to one of your d*mn parties, Penny…"
"I know, dear," she smiled, kissing Bertie's squashed, upturned face. "The answer is 'no'. It always is." And he always went, anyhow. Changing the subject, Lady Penelope stretched a bit, saying lightly,
"I shall be ever so glad to change into fresher clothing and then see Scott, once more. Shall he be awaiting us, in Japan?"
John hesitated, because (like Virgil and Lee) he'd been in touch with Kayo. Didn't know how to break some had-to-be-wrong really bad news, but…
"He's, um… well… They've taken Scott to the same hospital as Dr. Reeves," John hedged, there on that fancy, gilt-and-glass submarine bridge deck.
"A hospital?" Penny whispered, all at once still and pale. Turning in her soft leather seat, she asked, "Whatever for? Would not Tracy Island's infirmary prove a far better choice?"
John looked away, then back again. Took a deep breath and explained it all in halting and awkward terms, as they sped along through a lightening sea. Later, friends and family said that she'd taken the news very calmly. Yeah. They hadn't been there, when Pen found out what had happened to Scott.