Hi, everyone, and thank you Creative Girl, Bow Echo, Tikatu, Guest, Whirl Girl and Susan (+ very sharp brother). A short one, this time, but I can't help where the chapter ends, or why. Hugs, for all your patience and encouragement.

37

Tracy Island-

He found himself in charge of the situation, together with Mrs. Tracy and Captain Taylor; a position that Brains did not feel qualified for. Always before, there had been Jeff Tracy, or Scott, to follow and grumble at. Now… he would have to make decisions on his own, whose consequence could make the difference between life and death; here, on Mars, and away in the distant future.

The Mars team had to launch now, if they were to reach the Red Planet in time to do anything more than recover bodies. That team (after a burst of heated discussion) would consist of Lee Taylor, Gordon Tracy, Kayo Kyrano-Tracy, Janice Ming and Cody Beech. Yes, the New Crew 'kids' were a gamble, but they'd proven themselves repeatedly, out on that dying rig, and his choices were painfully limited.

Staying behind to deal with rescues and WorldGov were Mrs. Tracy, Brains, Lady Penelope, Parker, Professor Moffat, and the remaining New Crew members: Josh Kelly, Caleb Gonzalez and Piper Austin.

…and that was all. As Jeff would have put it, "his final say", which he'd made from the loud and chaotic infirmary. There, in the Island's sickbay, matters weren't going very well. For one thing, he was rapidly losing Alan, who nearly flat-lined a dozen times, despite all that Brains could throw at him. Full, invasive life support, anti-viral drugs, antibody transfusions from young Beech (who'd sickened, briefly, but got well again with startling rapidity). Nothing seemed to work against a rapidly mutating pathogen which appeared expressly designed to attack those of the Tracy genome. It was strange. Unnatural… and quite deadly.

After giving up blood and antigens (and before the Mars mission launch) Cody Beech had wandered from one med-cubicle to the next, gazing long and thoughtfully at each patient. Brains hadn't stopped him, being far too concerned with Alan, who was fading fast.

"Alan, that is qu- quite enough!" Brains snapped at the boy, as he injected a load of half-ready nanobots into his IV tube. "W- Would you bring grief t- to your family, in th- this way?"

But the young space pilot did not respond. Already, he was waxy-pale and expressionless, his half-shut blue eyes staring fixedly upward at nothing. The girl at his bedside, Piper Austin, simply gripped his rigid right hand, and cried silently.

Captain Taylor came over, from where he'd been helping Lady Penelope to calm and restrain a delirious Scott. (Much harder than it sounded, as the feverish pilot kept breaking bed straps, attempting to get up and help.)

"Doc," said Lee, watching as the nanobots, too, failed to deal with that rampaging virus, and Alan inched just that much closer to death. "Looks ta me like ya need ta be thinkin' stasis, or cryo-sleep f'r Alvin, here. He ain't gonna make it, otherwise, Horace."

"Yudisthir," Brains corrected him stubbornly, in a low, mumbled voice. "My n- name is Yudisthir, and I would appreciate it if y- you used it, Captain."

Lee frowned, wrestling with those odd-sounding syllables in his head.

"Whyn't ya say so, in th' first place?" he demanded, adding, "Anyways, I cain't pronounce that. Got any, um… 'long term stabilization' gear lyin' around th' place, Doc?"

Hackenbacker sighed, his brown eyes lifting to meet Taylor's grim blue ones. Very sadly, he nodded.

"I d- do, for truly critical rescue cases." Not their own people. "We sh- shall have to be v- very swift, Captain. Time is short. Moffy?"

"Yes, Hiram?" She said, looking up from attending Virgil, with Kayo and Emma. He was thrashing and vomiting blood, which was… very much, not a good sign. Captain Kraft, on the other hand, stayed right on task; whispering encouragement, cleaning, and trying to soothe.

"Professor Moffat, if y- you would take over, while the C- Captain and I t- transfer Alan…?"

Vanessa Moffat's blue eyes widened behind her glasses. Her expression grew pained and rejecting. Shaking her head, she whispered,

"He isn't…?"

"N- No, Moffy. Alan yet l- lives. Barely. We are attempting t- to, ah… to l- lock in whatever life remains to h- him, through cryo-sleep."

Looking deeply relieved, the other physicist nodded.

"Go ahead, Hiram. I shall keep vigilant watch over the boys, in your absence."

In the end, despite the arrival of professional medical help, they had to 'freeze' all four stricken Tracys. John, last of all, because his internal circuitry (and Eos) put up the fiercest battle. That virus, it seemed, was not only targeted just at the Tracys, it could adapt in vivo, in real time, to deal with whatever defense it encountered. They couldn't get well, because the blood-thirsty microbes kept changing.

Locking John away, Brains initiated the stasis mist. Then, he placed a shaking hand on the coffin-like, grey plastic tube and said,

"S- Sleep, my friend. Th- There is a way, I th- think, to overcome this."

…and it absolutely involved what was happening, seven hundred years in the future.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Fifteen minutes later, in the vast and echoing Prototype hangar-

They'd been waiting for Gordon, who'd had to join them in full protective gear; helmet, environment suit, and all. The rest of the Mars team (Lee, Kayo, Janice and Cody) had subjected themselves to strong bleach-water showers and total clothing changes, just to protect the last Tracy. Jan's long dark hair was now red, she'd bleached up so ferociously.

"We got us three jobs, here," Lee told them all, once he'd clasped Gordon's broad shoulder and given the kid an encouraging shake. "Get ta Mars, get Jeffery, Pete n' all them, an' get on back home. Gonna take ever' one of us, ta do that. Whether y've had a hunnert missions, or two, that's th' work in front o' ya. An' that's it. I'm through wastin' air. Let's go."

The prototype was mostly ready; shielded, equipped and fueled up. Still unpainted, she roared out of her hangar and up a long metal ramp, just as the sun was beginning to set on a very bad day.

At first, no one said it. Then, as the prototype banked over Tracy Island and blasted off for deep space, Kayo reached over Gordon's shoulder, hit the comm and said, fiercely,

"Thunderbird 7 is go."