Chapter Seven

"Can you scramble it so our message can't be picked up by the warriors?"

Jeff nodded. "Yeah, sure. What do you want to say?"

She rose and stood next to him, her hand on the back of his chair. "Jane ran away, but I found her. She wants to come home."

He looked up at her and frowned.

"Don't worry. If Marin's there, she'll understand."

He nodded and tapped out the message on the keyboard in front of him. "How long before you think we'll know?"

"I'd say within five minutes."

"What's this Boon-Sing like?"

"Well, I'm not really sure. I only heard through a mutual acquaintance that Marin was there. I imagine they keep pretty well hidden, though. The warriors...they have ways of locating factions that must use unbelievable technolo-" Dana stopped and bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Mr. Tracy."

"Jeff," he quickly replied, then let out a slow sigh. "Facts are facts. Nothing can change what's happened."

"I hope you're wrong, Jeff. I hope you're wrong."

Belah walked amongst the charred and bloody remains of what he determined to be three men. They were all much younger than Jefferson Tracy would've been now.

"Whoever these men were, they must have found an old communicator," Chien offered as he came to stand next to his commander.

"Perhaps," Belah replied as he climbed a small, rocky hill. He peered over the edge into what he knew used to be the silo housing Thunderbird 3. "Take the pilot down there and do a thorough search. You are to return within one hour's time."

"Yes, Sir," Chien replied as he loped down the beach toward the helijet.

Belah surveyed the landscape. Nothing seemed any different than it had the last time he'd stood on this island nearly thirteen years ago.

Perhaps it was only a fluke.

He watched as Chien and the pilot descended into the silo. Then he turned and headed along the beach in the opposite direction from where the house had once been.

Belah just couldn't get that voice to stop droning endlessly in his mind.

Jeff Tracy is alive. Jeff Tracy is alive.

"Cammie?"

A brunette woman turned from the makeshift vanity where she'd been studying her face in a cracked mirror. "Come in, Marin," she called out in a lilting British accent.

The door to the tiny room opened, and a tall woman with long, brown hair crossed to stand in front of her.

"We just received a transmission."

Cammie's eyes narrowed. "From whom?"

"Don't worry. It's my old friend Dana. She's NC."

"Can you be certain? How do you know she's a non-conformer?"

"Cammie, I've known Dana Clarke since we were four. She sent a message she knew only I could understand."

Cammie nodded slowly. "What did her message convey?"

"That she's on her way here as we speak."

"Have you detected any vessels in the area?"

"No. My guess is she's somehow got something with a cloak."

Cammie studied her second-in-command's face. Open and honest, Marin had been by her side from the moment she'd landed on Jarvis Island, and had been the most vocal proponent of her taking leadership of this particular faction.

"Very well. But convey to your friend that she will be met with weapons. I will not have that which we have worked so hard for destroyed due to an error in judgment."

"Thanks, Cammie!" Marin grinned as she headed back out of the room.

"Oh, and Marin."

"Yes?"

"Find out whether or not she is alone."

Marin nodded and was gone.

Cammie turned back to the cracked mirror. Her fingertips gently traced an ugly scar that ran from the corner of her right eye down across her cheek and ended just below the right side of her lower lip. Sighing, she rose to her feet to prepare the others for this new arrival.

I hope I'm not wrong letting this Dana come here.

And I certainly hope she's alone.

"Message coming through, Dana."

Dana rose to her feet and stood peering over Jeff's shoulder. It appeared on the monitor as numerous odd symbols she'd never before seen. "What's it say?"

"Hang on, running translation. It says...Jane is...welcomed home...with open...arms. South room...4 minutes. What does that mean?"

Dana clapped her hands together and laughed. "She's here! I knew it! It means we're supposed to surface on the southern side of the island, four miles west of due center."

Jeff smiled at her sudden change in demeanor, then his face fell as reality crept back in. Nodding, he turned back to the control panel and silently piloted them toward Jarvis Island. Just the thought of never again seeing those that he loved...it was incomprehensible.

It was all he do to focus on the controls.

Fifteen years. Gone. Just...gone.

"Report!"

Chien stepped out of the silo and descended the small hill. "They were definitely living down there, Sir. But I think there were more than just three."

"And why do you think that?"

"Because we found four beds."

"Four?" Belah repeated as he looked around the island once more. "Four. If there are four beds, there should be four people. That can only mean that one escaped."

Could that one be you, Jefferson?

"Back in the air. Now!"

"John, there's only an hour left before that eight-hour time limit you set runs out."

"I know, I know," John growled as he worked set the computer chip into the walkie-talkie sized scanner he was creating. "Ten minutes, Virg. Get off my back 'til then, will ya?"

Scowling, Virgil moved to where Tin-Tin was working at one of the computers while Brains seemed to be rearranging wires inside the new converter they were building.

"Status report."

"I'm reprogramming the software now, Virgil."

"Fine, Tin-Tin. Brains?"

"Well, uh, Virgil, I-I think I almost have it. I-I made so many tweaks there a-at the end of things it's not e-easy remembering what went where e-exactly."

"You must remember, Brains. Scott's counting on us to have some answers when he returns."

Brains nodded, the majority of his mind already back on what he was doing.

Virgil raised his communications watch to his face. "Gordon, come in."

"Here, Virgil."

"Any news from Scott?"

"Nothing other than the fact that he's landed at Bradenton Airport. That was fifteen minutes ago."

"F.A.B. Virgil out."

He's probably already at the institution by now.

Virgil felt totally useless. John was at a point where he was more of a hindrance than a help, and he didn't know enough about Brains' phase converter to be of any use there. Gordon was holding down the fort in the Lounge, no doubt on with Thunderbird 5 keeping Alan from going crazy at the same time. And Scott, true to form, had insisted upon traveling to Florida alone.

Damn you.

He picked up the articles Gordon had left with him and re-read the most recent one his brother had been able to find.

4 September 2033 - Ruislip, U.K. - There is still no word as to whether or not former World Navy Chief Science Officer Dudley Barnes has regained his memories about what happened eleven months ago when he mysteriously disappeared without a trace while working on his latest invention, a modified form of a phase converter. CSO Barnes reappeared with no explanation exactly one month ago.

Sadly, officials at the Bradenton Institute of Mental Sciences in Florida, U.S.A., have told this reporter they hold out little hope of the man ever being able to tell them what went wrong. Until such time as Barnes regains use of his mental faculties, he will remain in the care of Dr. April Rameda, clinical psychologist.

When I spoke with Dr. Rameda yesterday, however, her outlook was grim. "Mr. Barnes can barely feed and clothe himself," she said. "He is incapable of eating, drinking or speaking. I don't know there's much we can do but hope he comes out of this soon."

Until then, the world will never know what happened to CSO Dudley Barnes. What happened, where he disappeared to, and how he returned are destined, it seems, to forever remain a mystery.

Virgil rubbed a hand over his forehead, eyes and nose as he sighed.

Let's hope Scott's able to get in to see him. If anyone can get information out of Barnes, it's him.

Cammie stood on the beach with a large automatic weapon at the ready. The remaining twelve members of the Jarvis Faction, as they'd come to call themselves, stood six on either side of her, with Marin right by her side.

"Were you able to determine if she is alone?"

"No. I only told her she was welcome, and where she should surface."

"Why didn't you ask? I specifically requested that information."

Marin bit her lip. "I was afraid that if she replied in the affirmative, you wouldn't let her come. I'm sorry, Cammie, but I couldn't take that chance."

Cammie narrowed her eyes at her second-in-command. "I can't have you disobeying my orders, Marin."

"I know. I know, and I'm sorry. It won't happen again, Cammie. I promise."

"See that it doesn't." She turned her eyes back to the sea and noticed a small ripple displacing the calm surface. "Well, alone or not, it looks like your friend has arrived."

"We'll be surfacing in five minutes."

"Oh, I'm so nervous. I haven't seen Marin in at least two years."

Jeff brought the ship nearer and nearer the surface. After all these years, he was amazed by how perfectly the small sub had functioned during their entire journey.

Bless you, Brains.

He grimaced.

Wherever you are.