JOHN GLENN TRACY

I was quite shocked when I first was told how long ago I was kidnapped. It seems I was shot and taken from the men's room at the conference, and dumped in a back room in an out of the way house somewhere in Iceland. I was there for at least two weeks I believe, maybe more before Parker managed to track me down.

I am told at considerable risk to himself if he had been found out. I will have to buy him a drink when I'm back on my feet.

I've been here at the hospital now for around three weeks, and I'm told by the doctor that if I behave, she will let me return home to finish my recovery there.

I can't wait to get home. And I mean Tracy Island, not Thunderbird Five. I have spoken now to Eos, who has repeatedly bemoaned the fact that she has no way of coming down to Earth in physical form so that she can give me a hug. She says she has observed the psychological benefits of physical touch to humans, and feels the need of a similar form of reassurance for herself.

I took that to mean that she has been "beside herself with worry, and has no way to show or express it, and is now greatly relieved".

It will be a long time before my family will allow me to return to Five, so when I am ready, I will apparently be utilizing the remote Five hub on the island. It may sound grand, but basically The Hub is an office situated at the top of the main villa, with 360 degree views of the island, with the most sophisticated computer outside of Five herself.

The reason it is not generally used, is because it was added to the building as an afterthought, and so has no inbuilt air-con system, unlike the rest of the villa. It is insufferably hot in there! With the hot ambient temperatures we tend to get on the island, can you imagine working inside a large, circular glass bubble? Scott has promised to have Brains and Virgil install an air-con system in there for me, so that I will be able to work with a modicum of comfort.

Surely that could have been done from the start?

In any case, I am now dressed...well, semi. I am wearing jogging bottoms and a loose-fitting tee, with flip flops. Easy to put on and comfy to wear. I have been allowed to leave my room provided I tell the staff where to find me. I am sitting in the hospital courtyard. It is sheltered from the sun, has a nicely designed garden including a fish-pond, small rocky cascade, and a weeping willow tree with a high-backed bench beneath it.

I don't happen to have the bench to myself. At this moment, Gordon and Kayo are sharing it with me.

I can't decide whether to be amused or annoyed. The amount of smothering I am getting from the two of them is almost as bad as Scott and Virgil. At least unlike my immediately older and younger brothers, my present companions did not insist on wrapping me up in a blanket and pushing me through the hospital corridors in a wheelchair!

They did insist on bringing the blanket and wheelchair outside with us in case I need it when it is time to go back inside.

I know...at least I realise now how worried everyone has been about me. Apparently I am lucky to have survived at all, and with only the loss of one kidney. I can't imagine how I would have felt, had it been me worrying about one of the others. So every time I feel the urge to sigh or roll my eyes, I remember that they are just showing me how much they care. I smile, and thank them. I can't help feeling a little foreboding though. I mean, I was at a stargazers conference. I was giving a lecture to a bunch of space geeks, and had just visited the men's room after one too many cups of coffee.

What could be more mundane than that? And I get myself shot and kidnapped? My brothers...and Kayo in particular are never going to let me go anywhere on my own ever again!

I get the impression that even back on the island I will end up getting an escort everywhere I go. I can see it right this moment in Kayo's eye. Very much a "this is never going to happen again on my watch!" look.

I had considered asking Doctor Deacon to have a word with the family about laying off the smothering just sightly, after all I am not made of gossamer!

Doctor Deacon is a model of efficiency in every way. She looks to be around twenty-five or six, with light brown hair cut into a curly bob. She has been very firm with me about my personal progress, and equally firm with every visitor about not tiring me out. I had every expectation that she would be behind me on walking outside using the wheeled walking-frame she has just given me, rather than that hateful wheelchair.

I changed my mind. She is wearing the selfsame expression in her eyes as the rest of them.

Strange that...doctors are usually known for making every effort to remain...I mean...she should be encouraging me to be careful, but also to do everything I am capable of, right? Yesterday, she grinned at me as she helped Scott to wrap me up in that damned blanket, whilst Virgil tucked a comfy pillow behind me. I mean, come on!

I may not be about to run a marathon, but I'm hardly about to fall to pieces either. Anyone would think she...

Ahhh.

Right.

Hmmm...