GORDON
I have never seen anyone in our family…actually, anyone ever quite as sick as poor John. He's been in the hospital now for four days, and we've been assured that he is responding to treatment.
His blood pressure is stabilised, his lungs have started working again, and he has progressed from the ventilator to a nasal cannula.
He's still receiving high doses of antibiotics to kill the infection, plus all the regular liquids and nutrition via IV to keep him alive.
He is still on kidney dialysis. Doctor Deacon says that there is no guarantee that his kidneys will ever recover. He may end up having to use dialysis for the rest of his life, but she is hopeful.
Apparently.
Virgil has studied John's notes, and he tells me that it appears that John was rescued just in time. Much longer, and the sepsis would have started killing off parts of his flesh. Like, he would have had to have parts of him cut off…fingers, toes or even whole limbs. I can't help shuddering at the very thought. But he was rescued and gotten to the hospital in time to help stop that from happening.
At this moment I am cursing myself for having a vivid imagination. It may be a good tool for dreaming up jokes and pranks, but right now I am remembering my hydrofoil accident, and the few weeks I believed I would never walk again.
That was devastating, but I had the determination and the hope that I might one day prove the doctors wrong. Fortunately, I did, and here I am, as good as new. But to wake up from a coma in find that whilst you were asleep your legs had been removed? Completely?
Even knowing that keeping them would cost you your life would not make it easier to deal with. The thought is making my heart pound, and Virgil is looking at me strangely. Damn!
My big brother saw that my eyes were watering. I was NOT crying, honest! At least, I wasn't until he wrapped his big strong arms around me, I couldn't help it then.
All I need now is a hug from another big brother.
John. John hugs are special because they are so scarce.
Not because he doesn't like touching or any nonsense like that, but because he knows that Virgil is our live-in hug-factory, and a Virgil hug can make anyone feel better.
John doesn't solve problems with hugs, but with intellect. He thinks for a few minutes, then comes up with something amazing to say that seems to put any problem back into context.
When John hugs you, he is talking to you in a non-verbal way. Usually he is expressing love or support. Sometimes understanding. Always he is saying that he is right there with you, and he will never leave your side.
I could do with a bit of that about now.
I had better update you on the investigation. Penny and Kayo told us a few days ago that they had arrested everyone that was found in that house in Iceland, and that although they took the old woman in for questioning, they released her.
They never told us more than that at the time. But Penny came by an hour ago, her eyes flashing dangerously. It appears that Penny had slyly fed the old woman a cup of tea laced with Brains' new liquid tracer formula; and used Eos to track her movements once they let her go.
She never suspected a thing.
She was returned to Iceland (I suppose in case she had been telling the truth about being the housekeeper for that house), but Eos watched her return to the airport, and she took a flight to Scotland, and from there to Canada! She landed at the airport in Calgary, and took a taxi from there to Banff in the Canadian Rockies. Penny and Kayo followed in Thunderbird S, being that it runs silently and invisibly. They had to follow directions from Eos to find her ultimate destination, but she went to some small motel a couple of miles outside the city.
The records state that the Motel was owned by Georgia Henney, inherited from her parents. She had run the place as a successful business until she died three years ago. Since then it has gone out of business, become run down and is boarded up. The man she left it to in her will had never bothered about it himself. He was supposedly her common-law husband, and already had a successful business of his own.
Telecommunications, and computer programming. Claud Roberto Hogman. Known to his friends as Bob.
Penny told us that they watched the place whilst the old woman was in there, and when she left, Kayo used Thunderbird S (and Eos) to keep her under close observation. Meanwhile, Penny enlisted the help of the local police to search the place.
She didn't say what she had been hoping to find, but I guess something to use to put those guys away for a long time. They found no paperwork of any kind, but they did find an old telephone answer-phone. The old fashioned type, with a tape-recorder that has to be manually listened to, and manually rewinded or wiped.
This thing has three recent messages on it.
The first was someone interested in buying the property for development, and giving a number in case the current owner was interested in selling.
The second was clearly someone whom had picked the motel at random from an old telephone directory, advertising double glazing at reasonable prices.
The third was Langstrom Fischler. He needed a single week extension on their agreement, so he could complete the final stage of getting his new invention, an Automatic Waste Recycler on the general market.
Langstrom Fischler and a random old woman? There has to be something Penny hasn't told us yet; but forget that for now. It does mean that they now have enough evidence against Fischler to pick him up for questioning. He is now a guest of Colonel Casey. A vigorously protesting guest as well from what I've heard.
I'll have to get Penny to give you the rest. She was very worried about John. She and Johnny have known each other a very long time, and she was almost in tears when she finally saw him in person. None of us have seen John looking quite this pale.
Or this still.
Wait…
Hang on, there is movement…
"John…Johnny, open for eyes for me…Nurse, I think…"
One of John's nurses checks him over carefully, and gives me a smile.
"He's starting to wake up. Don't expect anything from him yet, Mister Tracy. He will be very weak for a while yet."
She doesn't return to her previous position, but she stands back slightly so that I can lean forward and place my warm hand against Johnny's cold one.
His eyelids flutter, and then open. Those amazing turquoise eyes seem brighter than ever in his white face. I feel tears rolling down my face, but I don't care.
My big brother is awake…