Hejda! I seem categorically unable to spell Havok any other way than X-Man style. Spell check doesn't even bother correcting me, anymore. Thank you for reading and reviewing, Guest, Creative Girl, Whirl Girl, Bow Echo and Tikatu. The end is in sight. Stall and fodder, just around the corner!
43
Mars, out on the surface, getting colonists aboard ship as quickly as possible-
The sun was fairly well up, by now, turning the sky a blinding shell-pink. Same color as dawn, almost, but much brighter. Looked and felt nothing like Earth. For one thing, the gravity was lower, making every step a planned and debated move. The place was barren and desolate, too, except for a handful of sabotaged structures and the landing pad, itself. It was hard to wrap your head around all of that sheer, empty blankness. Other than a few tall, writhing dust devils, nothing moved out there but the shadows. It wasn't just the visuals, though. Sounds that would have boomed on Earth, like the boarding ramp's drop, merely rattled or clicked in that thin Martian air.
Cody Beech tried very hard to ignore his surroundings and work the problem, which was almost more than two recruits could handle. Crew manifest declared twenty-seven colonists, but only eighteen were present and accounted for. One by one, they climbed up Thunderbird 7's wide ramp and passed "Mega-Max", who bio-scanned them for ride-alongs before passing each one through the atmosphere shield, and into the noisy hold. Many turned out to be carrying mutated plant spores; a problem, since there was no telling how the altered flora would react, if brought back to Earth… but Cody's gut went with "not well".
He could feel entropy in thick, dark ropes; writhing and lashing around him like a snapped, over-stressed cable. Like an erupting volcano, or tidal wave. In his mind's eye, the balked chaos overlay everything, projecting scenes of rot, decay and destruction. Worse than ever before, because he'd redirected it twice, already. From Jan and the oil rig, then the Tracys. And now, he'd puddled it here. Not intentionally. Cody had very little control over the destination of all that shifted chaos, unless he was willing to risk its monstrous growth. But he always recognized what he'd wrought, after the fact. And in some way, this was his doing.
Couldn't dwell on that now, though. Not with saboteurs on the loose, and a hold full of tense, injured people. Not with Kayo still out with her brother and uncle, searching for missing colonists.
Janice worked like a machine, meanwhile; business-like, confident, and clearly in charge. No one failed to answer her medical questions, or turn in their weapons when faced with that bright, cheery demand. Cody grew warm with pride (and more than that) just looking at her.
Then, he saw someone running across the barren red landscape toward them, taking long, graceful bounds, and moving fast. Gordon, it looked like, carrying an injured man across his shoulders, fireman-style. He was coming from the direction of a stalled, dirt-crusted mining drill.
Jan noticed, too, and looked up from checking a final colonist-scan. Her real worry was that one of the saboteurs might sneak aboard, maybe hijacking their Bird in flight. Watching that oncoming runner, her beautiful, dark-almond eyes narrowed down.
"Looks like they've found our missing colonists," she murmured; her voice as close as a kiss, over the helmet comm. "Go and help, Cody. I can handle this by myself."
He could sense those strands of loose entropy groping around for a target. Not her, he thought, pushing back, hard. Not any of them, though it just made things worse, in the long run. Mars. The colony. They were leaving, anyway. Who needed a lot of bombed ruins?
Nodding once to his girlfriend and commander, Beech vaulted down-ramp to meet Gordon.
"It's Pete…" the aquanaut panted, surging upward. "The base commander, an old family friend. Help me get him inside, away from the others. He opened his helmet."
"Decompression?" Cody guessed aloud, falling into clumsy stride beside Gordon.
"Yeah. He's… we've got to save him." Wouldn't say the word 'dying', although the damage was very deep, maybe irreversible. "That thing you did, before… for her," Gordon nodded at Janice Ming, then snapped, "Goddam it, look at me, Beech! You can do it again. You can save people, can't you?!"
"You don't understand…" Cody started to say, a little bit desperately.
"I understand I'm not losing anyone else," Gordon shot back. "You've got to help me save them. Please."
Cody could feel it gathering. Feel it pushing. Daring him. Because, in the end, you couldn't defeat chaos. You could only delay it.
"I'll… do what I can," he promised, feeling those shadows creep close and grow denser. As he strode inside after Gordon Tracy, Cody started to wonder… was entropy doing his bidding, or was he just a handy conduit? A way for the darkness to spread?
XXXXXXXXXXXX
Thunderbird 7, less than an hour later-
Lee Taylor would just as soon 've stayed in the hold with Jeffery and Pete, but somebody had to fly the dang plane, and Godfrey was busy. Strapping into the pilot's seat, still streaked with blood and Martian dust, he had to trust that the wounded were in good hands, and let Godfrey do his job. That was one of the best things about spaceflight, actually; it left a man with not much time to fret.
Now, Taylor ran through a fast, emergency preflight; getting the engines warmed up, scanning the hull and shield generators, and calling on home.
"Island Base, from Thunderbird 7," he announced, after flipping the comm switch. "Got ourselves a hold full o' colonists, an' headed on back. Need ta let the GDF know there's a couple o' hired killers roped to a post, down at th' hub. They c'n pick 'em up, or leave 'em ta rot. Don't make one d*mn bit o' difference ta me, except I vote f'r dead." Some of that blood was Jeff's. Some belonged to a bomb-torn couple of soldiers.
The comm flickered, and then Beth Tracy's image appeared in glowing, bluish 3D; looking tired and strained, but still beautiful.
"This is Island Base. You all right up there, Lee? Find everyone ya came for?" she asked, trying not to seem anxious.
"Four real close shaves, Beth… ain't gonna lie t' ya. Jeff's in a bad way, an' so's Pete… but they're stable, at least, and I aim ta head f'r someplace with a hospital. Best ta keep Godfrey and Jeff away from home f'r a spell, under the circumstances."
She nodded, reaching forward impulsively, as though she'd have liked to touch him. A fella could fly all day, and halfway through the night, on the surge that gave him.
"You said there was four of 'em hurt pretty bad, Lee? Who else? Some a' th' colonists?"
"Yup. One civilian contracter, and a female soldier. Plus, uh… 'fore I f'rget… we busted ass up here s' fast that most o' th' stuff we was passin' along the way was gone too quick ta study. Took a few pictures o' sumthin' headed f'r Earth, though. It's mighty big 's all I could see. Let Doc know that I'm transmitting them images. Think he oughta have a look. Other n' that, Beth, best I get back ta work. See ya when I get there."
The silver-haired beauty nodded, again.
"Expect I'll see ya then, Lee Taylor. Fly safe, and… thank you. You been a part o' this family since Jeffery started out with th' Space Corps, an' I don't rightly know how we'd get along without ya. Be nice if things was permanent, some kinda way."
Lee blinked. A slow, warm smile spread its way over his ruggedly handsome face.
"Yes, Ma'am, that would be nice," he admitted, pale blue eyes full of light. "Reckon we'll have ta see about that, wunst I get home."
Maybe, just possibly, they'd come to an understanding. He'd be two days crossing back to the Earth, and nearly a week after that in London, sitting with Jeffery and Pete… but Lee Taylor looked forward to one d*mn fine homecoming, afterward.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
Tracy Island, a week later, near midnight-
Brains stood with Mrs. Tracy, Professor Moffat and Max, in what everyone had come to call the "time lab". It was still missing one wall and most of the floor, but that would most likely be remedied, soon. There was a hovering GDF personnel drone present (the only reason that charges had not yet been filed). Eos was there, as well, watching through all the room's lenses and scanners, at once.
The time crystal was due to return in a few minutes. Brains should have been fascinated, but his brilliant mind was very much elsewhere. With Scott, John, Virgil and Alan, away in their cryo-sleep tubes; with Jeff, recovering in London, after many hours of surgery; with his other 'child', Braman, still missing after all of this time; with that mysteriously regular, massive potential impactor, drifting through space toward Earth. Not an asteroid. Not with that shape. Also, not powered…
Against all of that, the time crystal's return from the distant future was just one more thing. Only the fact that an entire lost squadron's rescue hinged on his skill as an engineer, caused him to be there, at all. That, and the hope of its use in curing the Tracys.
Restlessly, Brains checked his wrist comm. Nearly time. He turned to say something to the GDF observer-drone, which projected the sour, disapproving face of a WorldGov defense minister. Hadn't said more than,
"S- Soon, Mr. Chan, the c- crystal will…"
And then, it returned, with a sensation like the prow of a fast-moving ship, breaking water. A glow blossomed, like the first light of beginnings. The drone darted backward, but Brains stepped protectively in front of Moffy and Mrs. Tracy. When that honeyed light faded, the floor, wall and crystal had materialised, and so had those missing troops.
"Hockenbeak, right?" said one of them, stepping forward. He looked well enough, and carried a small device in his big-knuckled hands. Behind him, his people embraced, cheered and back-slapped.
"I am D- Dr. Hackenbacker," Brains corrected, staying between the women and this intent, fast-moving officer. "And I m- must tender my s- sincerest apologies for this, ah… this unfortunate h- happening."
He tapped at a virtual data-pad as he spoke, slapping a containment field over the crystal, and directing Max to laser-weld the floor. Meanwhile, Minister Chan's drone swooped around each of the new-found troops, scanning them all. Said the persistent officer, trying to get Brains' attention,
"No worries, Hockenbeck. The message worked. We're fine, but you gotta listen, and take a look at these pictures."
"Seriously, pay attention," said another, slightly taller man. "there's people over then, and they need your help."
At this point, Moffy glanced over at Grandma Tracy, nodded, and then got involved. Hiram was a wonderful man. Just… very driven, sometimes. Always had been.
"Good evening, Gentlemen," she cut in, using her brightest smile and best committee-pleasing voice. "Dr. Hackenbacker is securing the area, for everyone's safety. I am his colleague, Professor Moffat, of the Global Physics Laboratory, in Zurich. Would you care to share your images with me, and with Mrs. Tracy? She is the director of International Rescue."
The shorter man huffed a frustrated sigh, but then nodded.
"Yes, Ma'am. That'd be fine. I'm Lieutenant Commander Sheffield. L.C., or Sheff, once you get to know me. This is Major Pope. J.R., when he's in a good mood. One of our people bumped that rock, as we tried to infiltrate your facility." He paused then, looking rather uncomfortable. "Orders, Ma'am. And, um… in retrospect, we appreciate being invited inside. Even the cookies. They're a big hit, in the future." This last to Grandma Tracy, who he'd recognized from her hologram. That GDF personnel projection drone buzzed over and started recording him. Said the old lady,
"Let's call it a misunderstandin', Lieutenant Commander. We was both tryin' t' do our jobs, an' protect our folk. Not a thing wrong with that. I'm just glad y' made it home safe."
Sheffield nodded.
"Me, too… but that brings me back to these pictures. Seven hundred years from now, it's all gone wrong, Mrs. Tracy. They're in trouble, they've caught some kind of blight, nobody else is left, and they need someone with brains like his…" (indicating the engineer) "… to fix what's broken. I promised I'd come back with help, Ladies. We rode the crystal out that way once. We can do it again, right? With him, this time? He's sort of important, over then."
J.R. had started flashing through the pictures for Moffy and Grandma Tracy. Most were viewed with interest and curiosity. The next to the last, however, erased the smiles from both of their faces. It showed those four cryo-sleep tubes; dusty, but still functioning, down in a very familiar lab room.
Professor Moffat's breath caught, and her heart sank. Placing a light hand upon Major Pope's arm, she said,
"Please follow me, Gentlemen. I believe that you are correct. Hiram must see this."
…Because, if what she'd glimpsed in that image was true, not only had nothing cured the boys' illness so far; nothing ever would.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
Elsewhere-
The Hood was less than delighted at Tracy's escape. He had more important things to worry about, however, including the retrieval of Havok and Fuse, and regenerating his own shattered body. The timing had never been better.
International Rescue was in trouble; that much was quite clear. Their founder lay in a hospital bed, along with his foolhardy comrades. It had been nearly two weeks since anyone had seen Scott, John, Virgil or Alan Tracy… and precious few "rescues" had been launched from the Island. All in all, a very good time for the Hood to make his next move. His endgame.