'Allo! School is out for us, so that means a bit more time to write. =) Many thanks for your kind reviews, Tikatu, Bow Echo, Whirl Girl and Creative Girl.

29

Tracy Island, deep in the hangar access tunnels-

A loud, reverberating THUD could have meant anything at all, but Scott ruled out most of the positives and took off running for the source of that crash, Kayo right beside him. According to Grandma, their guests had found a way into Brains' lab complex, where stuff was set up and running that could blow the entire d*mn house up, if mishandled.

Scott Tracy was a tireless and long-winded runner, accustomed to five-mile, early morning jogs. Now, he sprinted through the main access tunnel between maintenance bay 2 and the lab, gathering repair bots and assorted mechanicals as he went.

"What do you think... they've got themselves into?" Kayo asked, loping smoothly along beside him, her footfalls every bit as quiet as his weren't. Good question. The pilot couldn't shrug very well while running, but he said,

"In Brains' workshop? Who knows? Anything… from summoning Cthulhu… to knocking over a… d*mn lab table."

Kayo shot him a sidelong glance and sly grin.

"Been at that role-playing app again, haven't you?" she sort of teased, almost like nothing had happened out on Ross Island, and they could get right back to normal, again.

And… well, they could, if he did what Dad would have wanted, and just let it all go. Smiling at his only sister, Scott said, (in short, breath-saving bursts)

"Not that you'll ever… find out… about. Mind on the mission… remember?"

Something about the girl's posture and stride appeared to relax, to smooth out just a little. And maybe, so did his.

This part of the tunnel complex was all smooth, grey metal walls, concrete flooring and fluorescent panel lights, leading directly into the research laboratory. Hackenbacker was an engineer, not a Feng Shui artist, and it showed in his choice of decor. But Scott had more important things to worry about. Together with Kayo and a small army of maintenance bots, he came tearing into the barren main work space, following the noise of confused shouts and further crashing.

With signals, he directed the horde of beeping, clicking mechanicals to spread out, keeping one hand at his magnetic cable gun. Not much of a weapon, but the best that he had, beside his own considerable strength. Hopefully, that would be all that he needed.

The noises were coming from lab 4, which Scott figured they must 've got into through a supply door. Had them corralled, at least.

Once his breathing was back to normal, the tall, handsome pilot looked over at Kayo. Would have said something monumentally stupid, like,

'Stay back, let me handle this,'

…Except that she was moving away with all the sleek power of a stalking leopard. Pretty clearly, Tanusha Kyrano needed no one's protection during a fight. Wisely, Scott reconsidered, settling for,

"I'll go in, first. Cover me."

Kayo cocked a slim, dark eyebrow, then gave him a sardonic bow and, 'Be my guest' flourish. Sisters.

Padding forward at the head of a mechanical possee, trailed by a sauntering Kay, Scott keyed open lab 4, using emergency override protocols. Inside, he found…

Well, "a mess" would have understated things, badly. As the main door hissed open, Scott stepped forward, standing consciously stiff and tall, like someone who expects a fight, and welcomes it.

Bright red alarm lights were flashing and whirling from three polished steel walls. The fourth, along with most of the lab floor and several work benches, had simply vanished. A man and a woman stood inside, both fairly panicked, both in wrinkled, dirty GDF uniforms. They peered at the edge of that great, empty nothing, shouting into their worthless comm links. The rest of the would-be occupation crew was nowhere in sight.

"What did you do?!" Scott demanded, striding forward and trying to recall what the h*ll potential nightmare Brains kept down here on level 4.

Little "Chips" zipped around what remained of the lab, scanning the area in every known frequency; recording it all for Brains. Scott barely noticed, because the higher ranking "guest" strode forward suddenly, stabbed a finger at his chest, and snapped,

"We did nothing but follow orders, Tracy! Ever since we got to this d*mn island, it's been one thing after another! Our systems were hacked, a storm came up, we were forced to land and abandon our weapons, then trapped underground in your Goddam lava tunnels. And then, when we finally break through to the house… this happens!"

She gestured wildly around them, edging further into hysteria.

"Conyers bumped the table, there's a flash of blue light, and everyone but me and Simmons just… poof… disappears! Even the Lieutenant Commander!"

Scott backed a step, but didn't flinch away from her dark-eyed, furious glare.

"You were sent here to seize and occupy our home, Miss. You and your squad snuck into a clearly-marked no-go zone. Yeah, that's going to prove sort of risky. Now, calm down, tell me exactly what happened, and we'll get this thing sorted. Brains always has three or four contingency plans for every possible accident."

Kayo had rejoined him by this time, spreading peace and reassurance like butter on toast. Scott glanced at his sister with wary blue eyes, still sort of spooked by her weird-ass abilities. On the bright side, those two home invaders lost most of their fight. That was a plus, right?

"I don't know what happened," the woman muttered, running a hand over her own short, dark hair. "We cut down the back door and infiltrated the room, which was empty except for lab gear, computer screens, and some kind of glowing gem thing, clamped on a lab bench…"

"A t- time crystal," corrected Hackenbacker, as he hurried into the room from halfway across Tracy Island. He was still wearing his pink-orange work coveralls, and a distinctly nervous expression. "A shard from the, ah… the B- Big Bang, itself. It was c- contained within a carefully b- balanced stasis field. Very d- delicate, I, ah… I assure you."

"Time crystal?" Kayo repeated, keeping her soothing focus on Simmons, and the near-tearful woman. "What's it do, Brains? Allow super-accurate measurements, or something?"

The engineer… tired, gaunt and deflated… shook his head, saying,

"N- No, Kayo. It s- simply exists outside of our r- reality. It jumps. Not through s- space, but the t-time stream. I had, ah… had b- been experimenting with controlling its j- jump distance and, ah… and carrying capacity. C- Clearly, the GDF p- personnel jarred its s- setting, disturbing the stasis field, and triggering an uncontrolled j- jump."

Scott took another look around the gutted chamber, with its missing subfloor and east wall. Saw clean-sheared equipment, sparking wires and busy repair-bots. On the plus side, there weren't any half-people lying around. Otherwise, not good. Not good, at all.

Uttering a low whistle, the pilot said,

"So… the time crystal zapped off for parts unknown, with half your lab, and most of our visitors," he summed up. "Where'd it go, Brains, and how do we get 'em all back?"

…because if they couldn't, this was going to look a whole lot like kidnap, or manslaughter.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mars, in the colony's badly damaged reactor chamber-

Keeping low, Jeff Tracy made his way over to McCord. It was hard to see through that toxic miasma of steam and radioactive slurry, so he proceeded partly by feel, partly by trusting his helmet's glitching heads-up display. Besides, staying busy helped to take his mind off the rest of a very bad situation.

The base commander lay on his back, having been facing the source of that last explosion. A slab of dark, steam-wetted rock had both his legs pinned just below the knee. Leaning up on his elbows, McCord barked,

"Tracy! Get the h*ll out. Whoever planted these Goddam explosives wants to bring the whole f*cking place down. Get these men to the surface, and organize evac."

"Sure thing, Pete," Jeff agreed, feeling his way around the edge of that slab. About ten feet by four, it was, and roughly six inches thick. Big, but not impossible. "We'll move, just as soon as you get off your ass, and join us."

Moments later, Rigby appeared, his helmet lamp like a cyclopean eye in that swirling dark cloud.

"We may not get far, Skipper… Colonel," he told them. "Scuttlebutt from Hesse, topside, says that another explosion just took out the transports."

Condensation on helmet glass, and reflected lamp beams, made it impossible to see Pete's expression. His words, however, left no doubt whatsoever as to his feelings. A five-minute, expletive-laced tirade ensued, of the paint-peeling, rock-splitting, military cussing variety. Jeff would have applauded, had their situation not been so terribly grim. Eventually, McCord wound down and snapped,

"F*ck it. Either my legs are broken, or they're not. Get this d*mn rock off me, and we'll find out. If I can't keep up with you, walking, I'll scoot on my ass, but d*mned if I'm just going to lie here and burn, while some f*cker strolls off with a stack of credits and a Goddam story to tell. If I'm going down, so's he."

Jeff stifled a snort. Pete McCord, pure and simple. To the base commander, he said,

"Right. Try to relax, Pete. When that rock comes off, sensation and blood flow are going to come roaring back. Might sting a little."

McCord braced himself and nodded, sending a lance of silvery light slashing up and down through the steam and debris cloud.

"Do it," he ordered.

Jeff turned his head to look over at Captain Rigby, crouching ready beside them.

"Captain," he lied, "these suits are the newest model. They'll make us considerably stronger. That's a good thing, because it's going to take a lot of muscle to safely shift this slab."

Rigby paused a moment, before responding. He'd never heard that the new surface survival suits provided their wearers with enhanced lifting ability… but he was also Marine enough not to question the colonel's statement. Besides, that voice seemed to quell doubt, calm fear, and promise that help was at hand. Rigby nodded, his helmet lamp slicing the darkness.

"Yes, Sir. We can do this."

"Good. Now, get around to the other side of the rock, and feel for a place to hang on. Make sure of your grip, Marine. We'll have to do this in one smooth motion." Then, turning his head a bit, Jeff called out, "Jennings, and… La Benita, wasn't it?"

"Yessir!" the young man responded, sounding awed that he'd remembered. "How can I help, Sir?"

"You two take the commander's arms. On my word, pull him out from under. We clear?"

"Yessir!"

"Understood, Sir!"

The two repairmen scrambled across the rubble at a crouching run, breath sounding harshly over their helmet comms.

Jeff waited for them to get situated, each man taking one of Pete's arms (after politely begging his pardon, first). McCord was now breathing hard, too; evidently in anticipation of "a little sting".

"Ready," he grunted, then took hold of his helmet's fluid delivery tube, for something to bite down on.

Jeff nodded, shifted his attention back over to Rigby, and said,

"On three, Captain. One… two… three."

Colonel Tracy had expected to do most of the heavy lifting, himself. Only, Rigby actually held his own. Maybe positive thinking, maybe pure adrenaline, but the younger man performed an Olympic-level clean and jerk, lifting his end of the rock off the cracked, rumbling ground. Together, they got that slab off of the pinned man, as Jennings and La Benita hauled him clear. Pete roared a ferocious oath as he was dragged bass-ackward across the littered floor. Then he laughed, ending with…

"Oh… sh*t, that hurts! Fine… I'm fine, God d*mn it. Give me a second."

Rollins had left off treating Walker (as well as he could, through a Martian survival suit). Now he came over to see to the freed base commander. Jeff heard him murmuring to Pete, as he and Rigby very carefully set down that fractured stone slab. It dropped back onto the ground with a gravely shh-THUNK.

Colonel Tracy did not immediately move away, though. Instead, he said to the young Marine,

"You got a first name, Son?"

Torturous hell for a Marine facing his superior officer; a ceiling so low that he could not stand at crisp, upright attention.

"Wayne, Sir. It's Wayne Rigby, Captain, GDF Marine Corps."

The older man nodded. The smile in his voice was quite clear as he said,

"Pleased to meet you, Wayne Rigby. Call me Jeff."