No one could ever take Alan's place in my life or in my heart. Not Brains. Not Virgil. Not any of the men I was with during my university years. No one.
Since that night Alan and I have made love four times with that same passion, one that I find myself unable to stop thinking about even as I board Thunderbird Three now on my way to a rescue.
It's all hands on deck for this one. Only Mr. Tracy and Mrs. Tracy remain on the island. Father had traveled to Sydney an hour earlier for a routine doctor appointment. Scott, Alan, John and I, in Thunderbird Three, are heading out to space. Virgil and Gordon are en route to JPL in Pasadena, California. One of their satellites has begun rotating out of sequence to its three partners, moving seemingly at random, and has already blown a chunk out of International Space Station 4, killing three cosmonauts.
We're going to see if we can't help the rest of those aboard ISS-4, as well as try to stop the rogue satellite from wreaking further havoc on Earth's interests in space. At the same time, Virgil and Gordon are going to try and get the satellite to start accepting commands again from JPL's headquarters. Though John's a good astronaut, and would be invaluable staying with us on Three, his best forté is Communications. If anyone can get help JPL get that satellite to respond, it's John Tracy, but he can only attempt it with the equipment on Thunderbird Five.
And so we blast off. I never tire of the feeling I get when the G-forces press me back into the seat. I look over at John, who's in the passenger take-off compartment with me, and can see that he feels the same way. What a thrill to know one minute you're underground in a silo and the next you're going to be in space looking at the Earth from a distance. We don't come up here much anymore now that Five is automated and controlled from Tracy Island, so when we do, it is exciting. Of course, he's a trained astronaut, but I did manage to attend Tracy College, which specializes in training men and women for space travel and existence. I squeezed that in between familiarizing myself with the Thunderbirds and working on my doctorate in Mechanical Engineering, which I finally completed last year.
I suppose you could say I've kept busy.
John and I soon ride the elevator up to join Scott and Alan in the cockpit. "Okay, plans have changed," Scott says as soon as we emerge. "It seems we've completely lost communications with ISS-4," he continues grimly. "I need John there with Alan and me to try and re-establish a link. Tin-Tin, that means we're going to leave you on Five to start the work with Virgil and Gordon. Once they're set up at JPL, get them on an open comm and begin three-way with our suit helmets. I want us linked up at all times."
"Understood, Scott," I say. So I was going to be on Thunderbird Five alone. I liked our space station quite well, but hadn't been aboard for over ten months. It's been a long time since she was automated, and she was automated for a good reason. And that reason makes me a little apprehensive, though the chances of Five getting hit by yet another asteroid are astronomical. Still, I know Scott wouldn't chance leaving me there alone if he didn't feel it was safe.
Yet with trepidation I feel perspiration form on my brow. Because truly, alone on Thunderbird Five? I am, as Father might say, a child outside her own spectrum of comfort. Having lived with the Tracys for so many years, I can now translate that to me pretty much being a fish out of water.
An analogy that Gordon might perhaps appreciate.
It's funny when I think about it as I watch Thunderbird Three back away from Five. All the time growing up I was never in my element, never part of my surroundings. It took me a long time to get to the point where I thought I knew who I was but then suddenly there's this "thing" with Alan and his flip-flopping attitude and emotions leaving me reeling because the persona he's now projecting is so very new and unexpected.
And now? Now I'm all alone on Thunderbird Five...Tin-Tin Kyrano, the poor gypsy child who rarely had tuppence to rub together is now manning the most sophisticated space station in existence.
How is it that I continually find myself in these situations?
I establish the link with John and Gordon at JPL. I open a three-way channel between them, me and those on Thunderbird Three. On a side channel I keep those back on Tracy Island informed. And I do it almost on automatic. Then I realize as much and wonder where it is my mind is. Yes, I'm hearing them talk. Yes, I'm listening as they work to get the satellite back into place. Yes, I hear Gordon trying to keep from cursing a blue streak that it won't accept commands. And I hear that one more person on ISS-4 has died.
But something is niggling at the back of my mind. Some sense of foreboding. Is it because of this new step in Alan's and my relationship? Is it because of the unknown we are about to embark upon with him talking of engagements and weddings?
No. It's not anything to do with him, I decide. But then what? The rescue is progressing. John is crowing about the fact that the rogue satellite seems to be responding. I can almost hear Scott's sigh of relief as he directs his brothers and helps them load the injured onto Three.
But it's still there.
Being my father's daughter, I have learned to trust my intuition. And right now, there are alarm bells going off in my head louder than the klaxon on Tracy Island. But alarm bells about what?
"Shit! It's veering off-course!"
"But you had its telemetry!"
"I know! Dammit, it's reacting adversely to the change in command structure!"
"Can't you stabilize the feed?"
"Tin-Tin! Send an emergency signal on 3-3-0, authorize complete command override with code Alpha Beta Gamma Gamma Niner!"
I quickly do as John has instructed. As my hands move, I see they are shaking. Something is definitely very, very wrong.
"It didn't take it! Try it again, Tin-Tin!"
I do. And then a sound comes to my ears. I look up at one of the many screens in front of me. The radar. There's a blip.
"Scott, I have something here!" I say.
"No! Tin-Tin!"
John? Why is he shouting my...I look at the radar. The blip is moving much too fast. It's moving toward Thunderbird Five.
"Get into a suit! Get down into the-!"
I'm floating. I'm floating in the Void. I know the Void. Father and I have been here together. But right now I'm alone. At least I think I am. You can't see anything in the Void. I suddenly wonder if I'm dead. And then I remember the satellite. I remember John's frantic voice. I remember the blip on the radar. And then this.
Had it happened again? Had Thunderbird Five been hit again?
Somehow I have a feeling Jeff Tracy isn't going to ever let anyone on that space station after this.
Funny how I'm not concerned. Not concerned with whether I'm dead or alive. Not concerned with the odd weightless feeling I'm experiencing. Not concerned about anything. Yet even though there is no worry, I feel like I'm somewhere I shouldn't be. Somewhere I don't know what to do. Someplace that isn't quite right for me, and I don't know what to do about it.
Once again, out of my element.
It seems to be a recurring theme in my life. If I'm still alive. What if I'm dead? That would certainly put me in unfamiliar territory. We don't remember what it's like between lives, at least, not once we get past four or five years of age. So if I've died, what do I do now? How do I get to the Plane of Souls? Where do I go? I suddenly start feeling panic. What do I do?
There's nobody here to help me. There's nobody here to talk to. There's no one to guide me. I'm not myself. I'm not on Tracy Island. I'm not part of International Rescue. I'm not the flirtatious girl I've always been. I'm not with my family. I'm just not me.
There are lights. There are sounds. There are colors. Forms. Shapes. Oh, god, what are they? What is this place? They're closing in around me. Beckoning me. What is this? Who are they? Do I stay here or do I follow?
I never got to tell Penelope about this new direction Alan and I seem headed in.
And Brains, dearest Brains, I haven't yet had a chance to talk with him about his new relationship with Susan.
Oh, Alan…have you finally grown up enough to become a true partner and mate only to lose me before our chance has even come?
Where's my father? He should be here. He's always here with me.
What do I do? When do I find out whether or not I'm still alive?
Do you know? Do you?
Help me. Please help me.
Please?
Stay Tuned for the sequel "Blinded."