Well, it isn't over till it's over... and it's not. Too much unresolved stuff going on, too many ideas popping up. Thank you beyond measure for your kind words and encouragement. I find a great deal of fun and escape through writing, and I very much appreciate the chance to share it with others. You are valued. =')

30

Under the tortured remnants of Edinburgh, in the stronghold of the Kanes-

The meeting ended suddenly, for item one… the status of the Tracys… had been resolved, while item two… that alien derelict… was a problem no longer. The death-ship, christened "Apophis" by the media, once word got out, had simply vanished. An incalculable number of lives had just been saved; now, in times to come, and over the known, spreading universe.

Chancellor Shaw and IR would receive most of the credit for this jaw-dropping "rescue", because the Kanes and Beeches did not wish to reveal their involvement. At first, most thought the entire boarding party lost; the Mechanic and Cody, along with all three Tracys. The Specials wanted no thanks. No attention, either.

Jeff and Kayo had been escorted back to the surface by Madame Kane, herself. Others might have come, too, but she forbade them, wishing time alone with the Tracy Colonel. (She wouldn't call him "Jeff", though.) In her own way, the sleek, shining cyborg was an attractive woman, though he couldn't see how you'd go about… well… sealing the deal, so to speak. Hardly mattered, anyhow, because he wasn't over Lucy; maybe never would be.

At the bare concrete room which led outside, Madame Kane paused. Before she keyed open its warded steel door, the machine-woman turned and said,

"The family of cyborgs is not large, Colonel Tracy, but it is very well linked. When one of us perishes, all know it. When one is somehow cut off, we know that, as well."

Her unnaturally lovely face did not express emotion well, being half metal and plastic. Her electronic voice sounded sad, though.

"One of mine has become 'un-linked'… but I sensed no death. Perhaps, Tracy, they yet live. All of them."

Jeff managed a brief smile for the honey-skinned cyborg.

"We're a tough breed, Ma'am. I'd put Scott, John and Virgil against anything out there, and bet on them all coming through. Your boy and young Beech, too." Something deep inside of him was clenched tight as a fist, but he wouldn't show it. He might have said more, but all at once, Madame Kane seemed to just freeze, along with Tanusha. Noises slowed like syrup, dropping in pitch and speed till it all sounded like one jumbled bass choir… and a man popped into sight from midair.

Just below average height, and slender, he had longish, pale brown hair tied back in a ponytail, and a narrow, sharp-featured face. His eyes were dark and wary, as though he half expected attack. That would have been tough to arrange, as he alone moved freely through the sudden syrup that their air had turned into.

"Tracy," he began, a little uncertainly. "I will not detain you long. I am Victor Dos Santos, head of a family smaller than yours, now. A young child wandered away from us and was stolen, some time ago. We had believed him destroyed at the hands of your 'WorldGov'…" The way he spat that term was indescribably hate-filled and bitter. "…but it seems that one of your people has found him, instead."

Jeff waited. Not talking, because it was hard enough just to draw a deep breath of that dense, heavy air, much less speak aloud. Did manage to nod understanding, though. Dos Santos went on, saying,

"Are you able to guarantee his safety, Colonel Tracy? If Anton remains with your breed, as the Kyrano, there, did… will he be sheltered from those who hunt us?"

Speaking with difficulty, the astronaut replied,

"We protect… whoever needs us… Dos Santos. Can't think of many… safer places… than Tracy Island. Why I… chose it." Glanced at Tanusha, then. His little Princess, grown up to become a fierce and lovely young woman. "He'll be cared for… and loved."

And then, just like that, everything switched back to normal. Sounds sped back up and resumed their usual pitch, and the air turned thin, once more. Standing beside him in that blinding-bright room, the women blinked their surprise.

"Dad!" Kayo shouted, lunging at him, as Jeff gasped like a landed trout. "What happened?! Are you alright?!"

"Fine," he grunted, watching Madame Kane run scans of their premises.

"Time shift," she murmured, in her flat, electronic voice. "Dos Santos was here, but has left. No business of mine, but if he wishes his son back, I would comply, Colonel. Time-benders cannot be trusted. They are subtle and dangerous folk."

…hunted nearly to death, she didn't add. Jeff shook his worried daughter off like a dog shedding water; he wasn't ready for the wheelchair and rocker, yet, dammit. Then, he said to the beautiful cyborg,

"Looks like the family just got bigger, actually. One of my sons seems to have picked up a stray."

Madame Kane didn't get the reference, but she smiled slightly, anyhow. Reaching forward, she then brushed the back of Jeff's hand with the tip of her forefinger, raising a slight, stinging weal.

Colonel Tracy jerked the injured member away, feeling startled and slightly betrayed. With Kayo on high alert, there might have been trouble. Only, the cyborg said,

"My price for your admission to full status, Tracy. Your genome shall be added to ours, for my people have grown too closely related. Your family will soon 'get bigger', indeed."

Jeff opened his mouth, and then shut it again; just really d*mn glad that Jake Tracy had seen fit to marry a regular woman, and stay part of the world. Inbreeding and isolation did terrible things.

"Right," he said, pointedly ignoring Tanusha, whose shoulders trembled with suppressed laughter. "Send me pictures of the kids."

Madame Kane gestured, and the room's outer door slid open onto their force-shielded landing strip. Part machine, herself, she both shifted position, breathed and buzzed like an electric transformer.

"Go now," she told him. "The ghost in this shell senses that our offspring yet live, Colonel Tracy… and that we will meet one another again, very shortly."

Thinking, 'Not if I see you, first,' Jeff defaulted to good manners. Beneath the rough speech and often flippant exterior, he was a gentleman.

"Yes, Ma'am. Looking forward to it. You take care, now."

Then, the astronaut seized Kayo's arm, and fairly dragged her outside. That door couldn't shut fast enough to suit Jeffery K. Tracy. They stood on the cracked concrete stoop for almost five minutes, till their vision returned to normal. Felt like stepping from day-side Mercury to Goddam Pluto. As details began to appear, and headaches to fade, Jeff and his daughter started forward. The big, camouflage force bubble was still in place, blocking a night of lashing rain and cold wind; a night of ghosts and shadows.

"Wait," said Kayo, green eyes gone suddenly wide. "Does this make the Mechanic my brother, or something?"

"No," snapped Jeff, stalking across the damp tarmac for Thunderbird Shadow.

"But, now you're…"

"No."

End of subject, and the sooner forgotten, less mentioned, the better. Thunderbird Shadow sprang to life at their approach; systems warming, canopy opening upward with a faint whirr.

"Home?" Kayo enquired, leaping up and into her waiting Bird. But Jeff shook his head, no.

"The Reservation," he corrected her. "I'm not leaving Zara behind. Don't trust our friends in high places farther than I can throw them, and we may need Penny and Parker, soon."

Vaulting into the cockpit behind her, Jeff added,

"Fly low and stay cloaked, Princess. Our allies already know where to look for us, and no one else needs to find out where we've gone."

"Yes, Sir," Tanusha replied, as that force shield dropped away like a cloud, and Thunderbird Shadow went dark. "Hold on tight, Dad. I'm going to punch it."

She, too, had a lot to think about; from missing brothers to Captain Rigby to Nikorr Kyrano, who might be the man of her dreams… or not. Add to all that her just-strip-mined family genetics (because, dammit, she was a heart-and-soul Tracy) and that was a very tense, quiet ride south.

XXXXXXXXX

Thunderbird 3, in space, near Mars-

Okay, so literally, the alien ship and its plumes of nanite dust had just crunched up like a gum-wrapper, and then blinked right out of existence. Yay, right? Only… Scott, John and Virgil had still been aboard, along with the Mechanic, and that Cody guy.

Now, some five minutes later, Alan was still hitting the comm, calling for his brothers. Blue eyes wide and concerned, the young astronaut had to fight to keep sheer, trembling panic out of his squeaky voice.

Space, where the derelict had punched through, was all…. ripple-y, or something. Powerful gravity waves and time-shifts burst from the area, bending and stretching his comm signals

"Scott? It's me, Alan. Pick up, okay, Guys? This isn't funny."

Not that anyone was laughing, anymore. Even Charlie had gone all big-eyed and serious, staring at the bruised and rippling spot like he was seeing something they couldn't.

"They in there, somewhere, Big Guy?" Gordon asked the boy, who clung with one hand to his yellow sash. Floating beside the muscular aquanaut, Charlie shook his head.

"They jumpted, Gordon," he responded. Might have been just a trick of the shifting light levels, but the kid looked younger than he had. More seven than ten, now.

Meanwhile, Mars hung sullen and rusted before them, issuing streams of escape ships and darting Interceptors, for Olympus Mons and her sisters had awakened at last. A vast cloud of smudge-grey ash erupted from the volcanoes' high peaks, blotting out half of the western hemisphere.

"That's gonna leave a mark," Gordon muttered. Then, back to the question at hand, the swimmer asked, "Did they go far?"

Charlie's small face screwed up in thought. Time was not a fixed concept for him… for any Dos Santos… so the question was tough to respond to.

"They gone up long," he explained at last, peering closely at Gordon's scruffy face to be sure that he hadn't said the wrong thing. The answering hug and hair-muss was reassurance enough to content young Charlie, who soon returned to his video game.

Alan was going nuts in the meantime, trying to contact their brothers and Kane. Got no answer but static and glowering Mars.

"Give it a rest, Al," Gordon told him, reaching across to clasp the pilot's shoulder. "They're gonna be gone for awhile, but it's okay." Probably. "They'll be back." Sooner, or maybe much later. "We need to tell Grandma what's happened, then leave a beacon, and help get those folks off of Mars. Scans show all kinds of sh… crap going on at the core." In a quieter voice, he added, "They knew the risks, just like we do, and Pete needs a hand, down there."

Alan Tracy blinked a few times, swallowed hard, and nodded. If there was a single, defining moment when the youngest Tracy finally grew up, it was right then and there, in the cockpit of Thunderbird 3. In a scratchy, hoarse voice, he commed,

"Mars Base, from International Rescue. We're coming down to help with evac. Get your remaining people lined up, and we'll take them off in lots, fifty at a time."

"Roger that, Thunderbird 3," McCord replied, adding, "Thank you."

Because, what else could anyone say?