Moonstrike! Chapter 8 - Travels
There's nothing in canon that says Jeff is an only child, so in my story, I've given him siblings - and we'll meet them later on. For now, Madison is Jeff's older sister, and a good friend of Lucille's.
Disclaimers, et al.
Chapter 1: Discovery
Chapter 2: Enemies
Chapter 3: Trust
Chapter 4: Disappearance
Chapter 5: Alarms
Chapter 6: Contrasts
Chapter 7: Reasons
The next day
Rhea caught herself nibbling on her nail again as she waited in the lounge of the small Tracy Transport terminal. They had their own hangars at La Guardia, and the tiny terminal was situated right next to one of these. With the rise in private jet air travel, the smaller of New York's two airports had been revamped and made available for small jets, as well as the helijets that crossed Manhattan with alarming regularity.
Both Bodie and Bruno were at her side. She intended to keep both indoors as much as possible, to exercise them in the early morning, when the island was coolest, and ply them with as much fresh water as he could hold. Keeping them inside would be the most difficult of the tasks; they loved the island and the freedom to romp down the beaches.
She was dressed for New York's November; slacks, turtleneck sweater, warm jacket and comfortable shoes. Her few bags were set aside, as were two very large traveling crates, and a couple of smaller boxes, all sitting on a large luggage trolley. She didn't have to worry much about clothes; she kept several changes in her suite on the island. Nor did she have to worry about dog supplies; those were available there, too, and she knew Kyrano would have fresh food on hand. Still, it was safer for the dogs to travel in crates than to be loose in the cabin, especially since Tin-Tin was a little nervous around them.
Rhea knew that Tin-Tin would pilot on the way out, and figured Scott would take command on the way back, with her riding "shotgun" as co-pilot. Like her brothers, she did know how to fly, and kept up her own pilot's license. Unlike them, however, she had never developed a taste for it, and preferred to be flown - to the extent that, if given a choice between flying herself somewhere, and taking a commercial jet, she'd choose the commercial option.
"They're here, Miss Tracy." Donald Gierhardt, flight operations supervisor for Tracy Inc. at La Guardia, came up behind her. Bodie's head turned, and a low warning rumble sounded. "I... I'm sorry..."
Rhea turned to him, putting a hand on Bodie's head. The growl subsided. "It's okay, Don. She doesn't like people coming up behind me. Next time, just call to me and let me turn to face you, or come around to approach from the front." She glanced around. "Where's Marilee?"
"Ms. Henderson? She's waiting in the hangar itself to oversee the post flight checks and refueling." He shook his head, a dark lock swinging across this forehead. He swept it back with a hand. "Don't know what bee's up her butt today..."
Rhea raised an eyebrow, and Gierhardt subsided, shaking his head. The door from the hangar opened. "Bruno, Bodie, sit and stay," she said, enforcing each command with its motion.
Tin-Tin walked through, a wide smile on her face, one that fell a bit at the sight of the dogs. She had her handbag over a shoulder, and a jacket draped over one arm.
"Tin-Tin!" Rhea dropped her dogs' leashes and surged forward, her arms open to embrace her friend. "Oh, God! It's so good to see you!" She stepped back and eyed the other woman critically. "You look tired. Was the flight bad?"
"It's great to see you, too, Rhea. I am tired, but the flight wasn't bad. Work has been rough lately," Tin-Tin replied as she gave Rhea a visual once-over. "You look rather peaked yourself."
Rhea blew out a long breath. "You don't know the half of it, hon." She peered past Tin-Tin. "Where's Scott? I'd have thought he'd be in here by now."
"Scott didn't come," Tin-Tin said, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.
"No? Flyboy let someone else come? Who? Where are they?" Rhea took a few steps toward the hangar.
Tin-Tin laughed. "Where? The restroom. He had to use it as soon as we touched down. 'Too much coffee,' he said."
Rhea turned back toward Tin-Tin, but her gaze was caught by a flash of bright yellow as she turned. There, in the corridor leading to the restrooms, leaning up against the wall, a jacket slung over one shoulder, stood...
"John!" Rhea screamed, clapping both hands to the side of her face. "Oh my God! John!" She practically launched herself into his arms, nearly knocking him over in the process.
"Oof!" he grunted as he wrapped his arms around her. "Give a guy a little warning, huh?"
She squeezed him tightly, pulled back to look at him, then moved in for another, less vigorous hug. "What the hell are you doing here?" She lowered her voice so it wouldn't carry father than the two of them. "I didn't expect you to come home until the day before Thanksgiving!"
He responded in kind. "Well, I got off early, and Dad thought it would be cool if I flew out with Tin-Tin to get you." He grinned. "I asked him not to say anything, so it'd be a surprise."
"A surprise! I'd say it was a surprise!" Rhea pulled back again, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You look... white."
"Hey, you're no sun worshiper either," John said with a laugh. He pulled her close in another embrace. "God, it's good to see you, Ray."
"You, too, ya big oaf!" She slipped an arm behind him as they moved together toward Tin-Tin and the dogs. "I still can't believe Scott let you come."
"Like I said, Dad's orders. He threatened to let Gordon..." John stopped, suddenly realizing where he was, and what he had been ready to say. He smiled again, a little ruefully this time. "... to let Gordon pull a trick, with no repercussions." Leaning over, he kissed his sister in the hair, and whispered, "Tell you more later."
Tin-Tin had backed up a bit when Bruno and Bodie shifted positions to keep their mistress in sight. Bodie whined a little, her tail thumping in eagerness, while Bruno's tail went back and forth, swishing across the tile floor. John spotted them, and grinned. "Man, I haven't seen these guys in a long time."
"Come." Rhea motioned quickly with one hand, and the two dogs came trotting over. They both sniffed John's outstretched fists, and Bruno barked once, his voice deep and loud.
"Yes, I'm glad to see you, too, you big mutts." He scratched Bodie behind the ears, then took Bruno's face in both hands and rubbed it. "You remember me, boy? You remember me?"
"I think he does." Rhea picked up Bodie's leash, which was dragging on the floor. "Catch him, will you? We can get these two and their crates stowed, then get a quick dinner. When are you scheduled for departure?"
"Ten o'clock," Tin-Tin called. She adjusted her handbag over her shoulder. "Have you picked out a restaurant for us?"
"Yes." Rhea spoke quietly for a moment with Don. He ducked into the hangar, and came back with two other men... and Marilee tagging along behind them. "It's Greek, this time. Just a little diner I found with some of the best moussaka I've ever tasted. Shouldn't take too long."
"What, no time for a leisurely meal?" John asked. He shrugged into his jacket, then helped Tin-Tin on with hers.
"Sorry, John, but no way. I'm anxious to get out of here and to the island." The men were pulling the luggage trolley through to the hangar, past Marilee's watchful eye.
"So, you doing all right, Mother Hen?" John asked, zipping up his coat.
"As long as your sister stops giving me heart attacks, yes, I'll be fine." Marilee motioned with her head toward Rhea. "Ask her to tell you about yesterday." She accepted the dogs' leashes; they sat placidly beside her at their mistress's command.
"I already heard a little from Dad." John turned to Rhea, one blond eyebrow raised in challenge. "I'm sure I'll hear the rest on the flight home."
"If not at the restaurant," Tin-Tin chimed in. "Please. Customs and security are always a pain, and I'm hungry!"
John and Rhea both laughed, and Rhea fastened her coat, picking up her own purse. "Okay, okay, I get the idea." She turned to Marilee. "We'll be back in two hours."
"Belle's outside, ready to take you to customs, with Anselmo driving. They'll give Long a call and he'll be waiting with the limo. I'll oversee the flight preparations here, and tuck these two in their crates. Bring me back some baklava, please." Marilee opened the door, preparing to take the dogs into the hangar.
"Done." Rhea smiled. "See you later."
Marilee nodded, and Rhea led her companions out to a waiting, spacious sedan. Belle stood at the door to open it. As they got into the back, she greeted the newcomers. "Hello, Mr. Tracy, Miss Kyrano. Did you have a good flight?"
"Yes, we did, Belle. Thanks for asking." John smiled back warmly before he ducked inside.
"To the main terminal, please, Belle," Rhea said as the security officer closed the door.
Tracy Island
"Gordon's doing well since his accident. He's regained full use of his legs, and is back swimming again. It's really amazing the progress he's made." Rhea's face and voice both softened. "But something as catastrophic as that... we thought we'd lose him at more than one point. It takes a toll mentally and emotionally, as well."
Cindy's face took on a serious expression. "Does that mean he has some cognitive impairment?"
"No, no! Nothing like that! He's perfectly fine, thinking on all eight cylinders." She chuckled. "Sometimes even more than that; he's a terrible prankster and we never know when he'll strike next." Shaking her head, she explained, "It's more of an emotional thing really. There's the possibility that he could be suffering from PTSD. So far, the doctors say no, but..." She smiled softly. "Let's just say that Dad likes to keep him close to home, just in case."
Gordon scowled and shook his head. "I am not suffering from PTSD!" He carelessly tossed the data pad onto the lounge chair. "I don't understand why she'd say I was!"
Virgil sighed, and added another few strokes to his painting. "Let's face it, Gords. Each of us has something we're doing outside of life on the island. Scott's designing aircraft. John's got his books; Alan races. I've got my painting and music. You... it's not like Tracy Ventures has a marine division, and you're testing boats for it or something. You're no longer in WASP; you've lost your competitive edge. Why else would you stay?"
"She's trying to make us look like we actually have reasons for living at home," Scott added. "So we don't look like a bunch of lazy playboys, living off Dad's money. What reason would you have her give?" He shrugged. "At least it's plausible, even if it's not true."
"And she didn't say you were actually suffering from it; she chose her words very carefully."
Gordon folded his arms belligerently and huffed. "If we'd discussed it beforehand, we could have come up with something that didn't make it look like I needed to be coddled, or I was on the verge of some emotional breakdown."
Virgil shook his head. "You heard Dad. She didn't have a list of questions beforehand. The interview request came up fast, and she barely had time to clear it through Dad before she had to give an answer. Dad thought it might put an end to some of the speculation and rumors that are out there."
"Yeah, like the one where we're enjoying each other's company... intimately." It was Scott's turn to scowl. "At least Taylor didn't actually put it that way."
Virgil made a sour face. "It was bad enough that Ray was asked about our love lives; hopefully she nipped that rumor in the bud." He picked up the pad, with his free hand. "Let's see; where was that?"
"So, Allison." Cindy was sitting back with her legs crossed at the ankle and tucked under her wing chair. "Your brothers are considered some of the most eligible bachelors in the world... and not just by women. What kind of partner are they looking for?"
"Hm." There was a slightly disapproving set to Rhea's lips as she considered her answer. "Well, I don't usually pry into my brothers' love lives, but I know for a fact that my brothers all enjoy the company of women in a dating situation. None of them swing for the other team, if you understand my meaning. Scott has quite a reputation as a ladies' man, while Virgil is pursuing a steady, long-distance relationship with a woman he met a few months ago. Alan has a romance brewing with a young lady employed by Tracy Ventures. Gordon and John are also looking to settle down someday and raise families. Even my father has a romantic interest; he's been squiring British model Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward to various events." She smiled, an almost feline expression on her face. "So you see, they're still eligible, but ladies only need apply."
"Whew! She certainly made no bones about our orientation." Gordon had resumed his seat in the lounger. He put his hands behind his head. "I'll have to remind her that she 'doesn't make it a policy to pry' next time she asks who I've met on shore leave."
Scott snorted a laugh. "I bet it's the one thing that their audience was most interested in hearing."
"That and the part about her love life," Virgil commented.
"Ah, yes." Scott nodded sagely. "Her love life, or lack of it. Play that part, too, Virge."
Virgil obligingly hit play again, then handed the pad to Scott while he resumed painting.
"Nice to know that the ladies out there have something to look forward to." Cindy's smirk was just short of a leer. "What about you? Your name has been connected with a number of eligible young men, Hiro Ozawa most prominent among them."
Rhea chuckled. "Well, I'm not currently involved with anyone, really. Mr. Ozawa is a nice young man; I've known him since I was a teenager, and his father is very eager that we become more than friends. I'm just not too fond of people who push themselves on me. Or are being pushed on me, which is more the case here. I'm really looking for a particular kind of man, and they're not easy to come by."
This piqued Cindy's interest. "Oh? What kind of man are you looking for?"
Rhea pursed her lips. "I'll do a little edit on the old song: I want a man, just like the man that married dear old Mom." She shrugged slightly. "I know I'm not going to find a man who has done all the things my father has in his life, but I'm looking for a man who is like him in all the quiet, invisible ways. Strong, intrepid, loyal, loving, willing to put his family first, selfless... there aren't a lot of men my age that have gotten all of those down yet. It may be a while before I find what I'm looking for, I'm afraid. Which will disappoint my grandmother as she'd like me to settle down and start giving her great-grandchildren."
Now Cindy thought she had something juicy. "Wouldn't you say that's a bit of an Electra complex there?"
Rhea shook her head firmly, but her tone was slightly airy. "Oh no, just hero worship, plain and simple. I'm very lucky to have the father I do; he's taught me so much over the years. The man I marry - if I marry - has got to be someone I can look up to the way I look up at my father."
"Whoo!" Gordon said, grinning. "I wonder if Grandma's heard that yet?"
"I suppose we'll find out when Ray comes home for Thanksgiving," Scott said. He fast-forwarded to near the end. "I do like what Ray had to say at the end of the interview, though."
"Oh, yeah. That was a great line!" Gordon said.
Scott pressed play. Cindy glanced up at her prompter. "So, Allison, you're the CEO, the worker, the 'heiress apparent' to the Tracy empire. You're slaving away in New York while the rest of your family enjoys paradise." She leaned in a little to better punctuate her point. "Don't you think it's rather unfair that your brothers get to enjoy their hobbies and do what they love, while you don't?'
Rhea smiled, a sly expression, as the camera zoomed in to a close up of her face. "Why, Cindy, whatever gave you the impression that I don't?"
"I've always wondered why she was so into business," Virgil said, still painting. "It always seemed weird to me."
Scott shrugged. "She just has a knack for it, I guess." He frowned. "But that 'heiress apparent' business. Where did they get that?"
"I noticed that they didn't have any recent pictures of us." Gordon said, turning off the data pad and putting it aside with more care than before. "I bet people wonder why there are few current pictures of us."
"I'm sure their photo department did," Virgil said. "But... I think... that whatever... Dad wanted to accomplish... it didn't go... as well as... it could... have." He punctuated this last sentence with with a series of sibilant little grunting sounds as he drew bolder strokes on his canvas. Finally, he sighed, and put down his palette. He wiped his brush on a rag, then dropped it in a glass jar of paint solvent. "There. I can't do anymore. The light's gone."
Scott frowned and looked around, then got up to peer over his brother's shoulder. "Hey, that's nice, Virge!" He glanced up at the sun, back at the painting, then glanced over at the flowers his brother was trying to capture. "I see what you mean; the sun doesn't bring out the colors now. Is this for the show?"
"Yeah," Virgil said, wiping his hands off on another, slightly cleaner, rag. "If nothing, the interview reminded me that I needed to have a few more pieces ready." He shook his head . "I'll take a quick trip to get some reference photos, or do some painting elsewhere. Can't do everything here on the island; that would be boring."
"You should put that abstract of Alan up for sale," Gordon quipped. "You know how much he hates..."
His sentence was cut off by an all-too-familiar wailing sound. Scott sprinted for the curved stairs that led to the balcony and the lounge beyond. Virgil took a moment to move his easel and painting into the protective cover of the balcony, while Gordon helped haul the box of paints. "I'll get Kyrano to clear the rest," Virgil muttered as he doffed his painter's smock and cap and threw them down next to the easel. Then he quickly followed Gordon up the curved steps to find out who needed their help this time.
"I think they're all asleep," Rhea commented quietly as she looked back into the cockpit. They were flying the family's custom built TI-722, christened "Family Van" by Gordon. Four of the passenger seats had been removed at the island to accommodate the dog crates, both of which were safely locked into place. Tin-Tin was taking advantage of the reclining seats to catch a nap on the return flight.
"Penny for them," John said, noticing his sister's pensive look. She started a bit, and gave him a wide smile.
"Just thinking how close our family is, how much of a cohesive unit it still is, even though we're all adults." She motioned to the passenger cabin with her head. "Scott didn't design this for the market; he was thinking of us. It's flexibility, the comfort... every detail shouts 'my family deserves this!'." She shook her head slowly, still smiling. "Even now he's working to keep us together."
"And you're still seeing to our creature comforts, just like you did just after Mom got sick," John said. He turned his gaze to the sky. "You might not be making our beds and washing our clothes or balancing the checkbook, but you're providing the money to buy what we need, and to keep us running." He looked thoughtful. "In a way, you've taken over Dad's position there."
"Well, he deserved to retire and enjoy the fruits of his labor," Rhea said, sighing slightly. "Besides, he had a new challenge to take on, and I was the one trained to take his place in the business, so he could put all his energies into IR. And, I'll admit, he was right about me being ready when I was needed." She paused a moment, lifting a hand to readjust her headphones, and remembered her confrontation with her father over her place in International Rescue.
xxxx
June, 2063
Jeff had called a family meeting at the only time he could really do so: between Gordon's return from a year under the sea, and John's departure for six months on the International Space Station. The call had been at short notice; Rhea had to fight with her boss so she could join the family at her father's recently-purchased tropical island. Truth to tell, she had welcomed the chance to get away; her current job was frustration incarnate. She only remained there for the experience she felt it could offer her.
They had just come back from a tour of Mateo Island, another little islet in the chain Jeff now owned, where Thunderbirds Two and Three were being built. Her brothers were all excited and gung-ho about the venture, but she wasn't so sure.
"So, what do you think?" Jeff had asked. They were sitting in the still half-furnished lounge area of the Villa, just the two of them. "You've seen all of my plans. You know what I want from your brothers. You know my motivations."
She nodded. "Yes, I do. I've heard it all." And she had indeed. She knew the family history behind the idea: the untimely death of her Grandpa Tracy, Aunt Madison, and two young cousins in an avalanche before she was even born. She knew how much input her mother had given to the project from that horrific day onward. And she knew that her mother had wanted their plan to go forward after her own death - though she doubted her mother would approve of her father's choice of staffing this crazy dream.
"Good." Jeff grew somber. "I know I'm too old to go out and do the things I want your brothers to do, but I do want to be a part of it. I want to give them direction from base, to smooth things out for them whenever possible. In other words, I'll be their commander here, while Scott will command in the field. However, for me to do this, I need to be here."
Rhea's face slowly took on an expression of understanding and consternation as he continued. "Someone needs to be at the helm of Tracy Ventures. Someone with sound business sense; someone I can trust." The laugh lines around his eyes crinkled up as he smiled. "That someone is you, Rhea. I want you to take the reins in New York."
Whatever reaction Jeff had anticipated, Rhea's was not it. She took a couple of deep breaths, letting them out slowly. She ran a suddenly sweaty hand through her hair, threading her fingers through it, pulling it back tight on that side as her hand rested briefly at the back of her head. Moistening her lips with her tongue, she shook her head in disbelief. Without looking at her father, she said, "I... I should have known that would be what you wanted. Of all of us, I'm the only one who could be happy running your company."
He cocked his head to one side. "Isn't that your heart's desire, Rhea? To be the CEO, to have the big office? Isn't that what you've been studying and working for all these years?"
"N-N... y-yes!" she stammered, raising a splayed, jerking hand, moving it as if to push something away. "Yes." The word came out through gritted teeth. "Damn it, Dad! Damn it!" She would not meet his gaze; she frowned, looking as if she'd tasted something sour and smelled something bad. Slapping the faux leather cushion, she cried, "You know that's been my goal! You know I had you and Tracy Ventures in mind all the time!"
Jeff smiled now. "So, now you can have it. Just... sooner than you expected, that's all. After all, I'll be retiring; no one will suspect anything." A slight frown crossed his face. "Wait. Don't tell me you actually like your job? You've complained so much..."
"Dad." When he quieted, she glanced his way, her face and voice betraying her dislike. "You know I don't like it. It's... it's just a stepping stone, giving me experience I'll need. A stop on the way to bigger and better things... like the big office at Tracy Ventures. Eventually." Finally, she cleared her throat, and turned to him, her eyes pleading for his understanding. "I can't, Dad. I just can't. Not now. I don't have the skills yet, the know-how. I need more time; time to learn from others, to get to know the company. To make the transition less stressful for all involved." She shook her head. Her shoulders slumped; she looked resigned. "I'm sorry. I'm not ready."
"But, Rhea." Jeff's expression showed clearly his concern and his puzzlement. "I think you'll do fine. It's not like you'll have to take the reins tomorrow. You'll have time to..."
She cut him off by rising. "Dad. I'm not ready. I know it, and I think you do, too."
He moved to stand by her, taking her by the upper arms. "I know you will be ready when the time comes. I've always known that."
"That time hasn't come yet, Dad." Gently, she pulled his hands free of her arms. "I'm sorry."
xxxx
"Ray? You in there?" A hand flashed across her face, and she started, blinking several times. John barked a laugh. "Woolgathering, were we?"
Rhea looked sheepish. "Yeah, sorry about that. Just remembering that visit when Dad showed us IR."
"Yeah. That was something. You really hated the idea, didn't you? Refused him outright."
"Yes, I did. But... he was right in the end. When he needed me, I was ready. Just like Scott will be ready to take Dad's place as commander, when and if he decides to finally slow down." She glanced at her brother, raising an eyebrow. "By the way, you never did tell me what Dad used as leverage to get Scott to let you come. Something about Gordon...?"
John laughed. "Virgil told me that Dad threatened to let Gordon take One." He paused, then added, "And he also threw out the idea of Tin-Tin going up to Five instead of Alan."
"Gordon on One? God forbid!" She laughed, shaking her head, and adjusting her headphones again. "Damn hair. Should have had Therese braid it this morning. It's too slick when it's down." Once she was comfortable again, she added, "Poor Tin-Tin. Alan keeps trying to have his cake and eat it, too. Gotta have a word with that boy."
At dinner, Tin-Tin had confessed that she'd known nothing about Alan's duplicity. "I thought he was being considerate, inviting me to play tennis and take a break from the project," she'd said in disgust. "I had no idea he was trying to deceive the rest of the family."
The thought of Tin-Tin's confession made Rhea ask, "How's the project coming?"
John's demeanor became serious, and snorted a little, "Hmph". "Not good, Ray, not good at all. The probes aren't going to cut it, and I can't get good enough images for Phase Three, should we have to initiate it. We're going to have to make that trip, and assess things for ourselves." He sighed a little. "The only good thing about it is that the figures haven't changed. Our timetable remains the same." He glanced over at her. "How are things on your end?"
"The shuttles are coming together nicely; the only problem has been finding safe places to store them until we're ready."
"Hm. That is a problem. I know Alan was pretty confused when that first one took off. I have no idea what Brains told him to keep him from spouting off to Dad." John said, sounding thoughtful. "How about Brains's other devices?"
Rhea sighed. "I don't know that we can make them powerful enough to do what he wants. Which means that we'll need a whole lot more of them if we don't implement Phase Three, and maybe even if we do."
"So, it looks like Phase Three will be necessary." John rubbed his chin.
"Yep. It does."
They were quiet for a while, then she asked, "Has Dad told them yet?"
John shook his head. "I don't think so. And he needs to, for Alan's sake if no one else's. I heard from the lunar stations on the matter back in September; if it had been Alan up there instead of me, he wouldn't have known how to respond. Then there was the whole business with the shuttle..." He paused, sighing. "I understand Dad wants all his ducks in a row, and he'd rather have us focusing on rescues right now, and not worrying about the future. But he can't hide it for much longer." He paused. "I'm going to talk with him about it over the holiday."
"A good call. I'll back you up all the way," Rhea told him.
"Which brings us to that attempt yesterday." John faced forward, letting the statement hang there in the air.
"I'd ask you to explain how discussing Dad and the project brings us to yesterday's incident, but I know how inventive you can be devising those kinds of connections." Rhea was quiet for a moment, then shrugged again. "You probably know everything I told Dad, and whatever Mother Hen told him as well."
He turned his head toward her. "Pretend I don't know a thing. Tell me a story, Rhea."
For the next half hour she told him all about the incident in the park, what transpired afterwards, and the discussions she'd had with Marilee and Jeff. When she finished, she asked, "What do you think?"
"I don't, at the moment. I'll need to mull this over some more before I have any kind of opinion."
They lapsed into a friendly silence. Rhea watched her brother for a moment. They were close, she and John. It wasn't just that they'd shared an apartment while they were both in Boston, John working on his degree in Laser Communications at Harvard, and her working on a MBA, taking courses at both MIT Sloan and Harvard. They also enjoyed talking about business, something that none of the other boys were interested in. She and Scott often butted heads, both being the eldest of their genders. She could talk to Virgil about music, true, but that wasn't a subject as dear to her heart. Gordon's obsession with the sea had puzzled her, as did his insistence on joining WASP right out of high school. Alan had often impressed her as being immature. It was John, brilliant, steady, self-effacing, to whom she turned. It angered her when she heard that Alan had somehow weaseled out of his monthly stint in Thunderbird Five, but there wasn't much she could say. She and John conversed a lot, both when he was in the satellite and on the island. She didn't talk with any of her other brothers as much.
He shook his head slowly, looking troubled. She reached out to touch his shoulder. "Penny for them," she offered.
He turned to her and gave her a sad smile. "What happens if we fail? What happens if our calculations are wrong, or something breaks down, or we don't get things done in time."
She squeezed his shoulder. "John, I..."
"Don't say we won't fail, Ray." His anguish was only too clear. "Just don't. The timing on this is touchy; you know that. There are too many variables and if they don't all come together... the world will lay this whole mess at our feet. Just because we tried to help."
Rhea echoed his sigh. "I know, John. I know they will... and they'll never forget."
Disclaimers, et al.
Chapter 1: Discovery
Chapter 2: Enemies
Chapter 3: Trust
Chapter 4: Disappearance
Chapter 5: Alarms
Chapter 6: Contrasts
Chapter 7: Reasons
The next day
Rhea caught herself nibbling on her nail again as she waited in the lounge of the small Tracy Transport terminal. They had their own hangars at La Guardia, and the tiny terminal was situated right next to one of these. With the rise in private jet air travel, the smaller of New York's two airports had been revamped and made available for small jets, as well as the helijets that crossed Manhattan with alarming regularity.
Both Bodie and Bruno were at her side. She intended to keep both indoors as much as possible, to exercise them in the early morning, when the island was coolest, and ply them with as much fresh water as he could hold. Keeping them inside would be the most difficult of the tasks; they loved the island and the freedom to romp down the beaches.
She was dressed for New York's November; slacks, turtleneck sweater, warm jacket and comfortable shoes. Her few bags were set aside, as were two very large traveling crates, and a couple of smaller boxes, all sitting on a large luggage trolley. She didn't have to worry much about clothes; she kept several changes in her suite on the island. Nor did she have to worry about dog supplies; those were available there, too, and she knew Kyrano would have fresh food on hand. Still, it was safer for the dogs to travel in crates than to be loose in the cabin, especially since Tin-Tin was a little nervous around them.
Rhea knew that Tin-Tin would pilot on the way out, and figured Scott would take command on the way back, with her riding "shotgun" as co-pilot. Like her brothers, she did know how to fly, and kept up her own pilot's license. Unlike them, however, she had never developed a taste for it, and preferred to be flown - to the extent that, if given a choice between flying herself somewhere, and taking a commercial jet, she'd choose the commercial option.
"They're here, Miss Tracy." Donald Gierhardt, flight operations supervisor for Tracy Inc. at La Guardia, came up behind her. Bodie's head turned, and a low warning rumble sounded. "I... I'm sorry..."
Rhea turned to him, putting a hand on Bodie's head. The growl subsided. "It's okay, Don. She doesn't like people coming up behind me. Next time, just call to me and let me turn to face you, or come around to approach from the front." She glanced around. "Where's Marilee?"
"Ms. Henderson? She's waiting in the hangar itself to oversee the post flight checks and refueling." He shook his head, a dark lock swinging across this forehead. He swept it back with a hand. "Don't know what bee's up her butt today..."
Rhea raised an eyebrow, and Gierhardt subsided, shaking his head. The door from the hangar opened. "Bruno, Bodie, sit and stay," she said, enforcing each command with its motion.
Tin-Tin walked through, a wide smile on her face, one that fell a bit at the sight of the dogs. She had her handbag over a shoulder, and a jacket draped over one arm.
"Tin-Tin!" Rhea dropped her dogs' leashes and surged forward, her arms open to embrace her friend. "Oh, God! It's so good to see you!" She stepped back and eyed the other woman critically. "You look tired. Was the flight bad?"
"It's great to see you, too, Rhea. I am tired, but the flight wasn't bad. Work has been rough lately," Tin-Tin replied as she gave Rhea a visual once-over. "You look rather peaked yourself."
Rhea blew out a long breath. "You don't know the half of it, hon." She peered past Tin-Tin. "Where's Scott? I'd have thought he'd be in here by now."
"Scott didn't come," Tin-Tin said, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.
"No? Flyboy let someone else come? Who? Where are they?" Rhea took a few steps toward the hangar.
Tin-Tin laughed. "Where? The restroom. He had to use it as soon as we touched down. 'Too much coffee,' he said."
Rhea turned back toward Tin-Tin, but her gaze was caught by a flash of bright yellow as she turned. There, in the corridor leading to the restrooms, leaning up against the wall, a jacket slung over one shoulder, stood...
"John!" Rhea screamed, clapping both hands to the side of her face. "Oh my God! John!" She practically launched herself into his arms, nearly knocking him over in the process.
"Oof!" he grunted as he wrapped his arms around her. "Give a guy a little warning, huh?"
She squeezed him tightly, pulled back to look at him, then moved in for another, less vigorous hug. "What the hell are you doing here?" She lowered her voice so it wouldn't carry father than the two of them. "I didn't expect you to come home until the day before Thanksgiving!"
He responded in kind. "Well, I got off early, and Dad thought it would be cool if I flew out with Tin-Tin to get you." He grinned. "I asked him not to say anything, so it'd be a surprise."
"A surprise! I'd say it was a surprise!" Rhea pulled back again, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You look... white."
"Hey, you're no sun worshiper either," John said with a laugh. He pulled her close in another embrace. "God, it's good to see you, Ray."
"You, too, ya big oaf!" She slipped an arm behind him as they moved together toward Tin-Tin and the dogs. "I still can't believe Scott let you come."
"Like I said, Dad's orders. He threatened to let Gordon..." John stopped, suddenly realizing where he was, and what he had been ready to say. He smiled again, a little ruefully this time. "... to let Gordon pull a trick, with no repercussions." Leaning over, he kissed his sister in the hair, and whispered, "Tell you more later."
Tin-Tin had backed up a bit when Bruno and Bodie shifted positions to keep their mistress in sight. Bodie whined a little, her tail thumping in eagerness, while Bruno's tail went back and forth, swishing across the tile floor. John spotted them, and grinned. "Man, I haven't seen these guys in a long time."
"Come." Rhea motioned quickly with one hand, and the two dogs came trotting over. They both sniffed John's outstretched fists, and Bruno barked once, his voice deep and loud.
"Yes, I'm glad to see you, too, you big mutts." He scratched Bodie behind the ears, then took Bruno's face in both hands and rubbed it. "You remember me, boy? You remember me?"
"I think he does." Rhea picked up Bodie's leash, which was dragging on the floor. "Catch him, will you? We can get these two and their crates stowed, then get a quick dinner. When are you scheduled for departure?"
"Ten o'clock," Tin-Tin called. She adjusted her handbag over her shoulder. "Have you picked out a restaurant for us?"
"Yes." Rhea spoke quietly for a moment with Don. He ducked into the hangar, and came back with two other men... and Marilee tagging along behind them. "It's Greek, this time. Just a little diner I found with some of the best moussaka I've ever tasted. Shouldn't take too long."
"What, no time for a leisurely meal?" John asked. He shrugged into his jacket, then helped Tin-Tin on with hers.
"Sorry, John, but no way. I'm anxious to get out of here and to the island." The men were pulling the luggage trolley through to the hangar, past Marilee's watchful eye.
"So, you doing all right, Mother Hen?" John asked, zipping up his coat.
"As long as your sister stops giving me heart attacks, yes, I'll be fine." Marilee motioned with her head toward Rhea. "Ask her to tell you about yesterday." She accepted the dogs' leashes; they sat placidly beside her at their mistress's command.
"I already heard a little from Dad." John turned to Rhea, one blond eyebrow raised in challenge. "I'm sure I'll hear the rest on the flight home."
"If not at the restaurant," Tin-Tin chimed in. "Please. Customs and security are always a pain, and I'm hungry!"
John and Rhea both laughed, and Rhea fastened her coat, picking up her own purse. "Okay, okay, I get the idea." She turned to Marilee. "We'll be back in two hours."
"Belle's outside, ready to take you to customs, with Anselmo driving. They'll give Long a call and he'll be waiting with the limo. I'll oversee the flight preparations here, and tuck these two in their crates. Bring me back some baklava, please." Marilee opened the door, preparing to take the dogs into the hangar.
"Done." Rhea smiled. "See you later."
Marilee nodded, and Rhea led her companions out to a waiting, spacious sedan. Belle stood at the door to open it. As they got into the back, she greeted the newcomers. "Hello, Mr. Tracy, Miss Kyrano. Did you have a good flight?"
"Yes, we did, Belle. Thanks for asking." John smiled back warmly before he ducked inside.
"To the main terminal, please, Belle," Rhea said as the security officer closed the door.
Tracy Island
"Gordon's doing well since his accident. He's regained full use of his legs, and is back swimming again. It's really amazing the progress he's made." Rhea's face and voice both softened. "But something as catastrophic as that... we thought we'd lose him at more than one point. It takes a toll mentally and emotionally, as well."
Cindy's face took on a serious expression. "Does that mean he has some cognitive impairment?"
"No, no! Nothing like that! He's perfectly fine, thinking on all eight cylinders." She chuckled. "Sometimes even more than that; he's a terrible prankster and we never know when he'll strike next." Shaking her head, she explained, "It's more of an emotional thing really. There's the possibility that he could be suffering from PTSD. So far, the doctors say no, but..." She smiled softly. "Let's just say that Dad likes to keep him close to home, just in case."
Gordon scowled and shook his head. "I am not suffering from PTSD!" He carelessly tossed the data pad onto the lounge chair. "I don't understand why she'd say I was!"
Virgil sighed, and added another few strokes to his painting. "Let's face it, Gords. Each of us has something we're doing outside of life on the island. Scott's designing aircraft. John's got his books; Alan races. I've got my painting and music. You... it's not like Tracy Ventures has a marine division, and you're testing boats for it or something. You're no longer in WASP; you've lost your competitive edge. Why else would you stay?"
"She's trying to make us look like we actually have reasons for living at home," Scott added. "So we don't look like a bunch of lazy playboys, living off Dad's money. What reason would you have her give?" He shrugged. "At least it's plausible, even if it's not true."
"And she didn't say you were actually suffering from it; she chose her words very carefully."
Gordon folded his arms belligerently and huffed. "If we'd discussed it beforehand, we could have come up with something that didn't make it look like I needed to be coddled, or I was on the verge of some emotional breakdown."
Virgil shook his head. "You heard Dad. She didn't have a list of questions beforehand. The interview request came up fast, and she barely had time to clear it through Dad before she had to give an answer. Dad thought it might put an end to some of the speculation and rumors that are out there."
"Yeah, like the one where we're enjoying each other's company... intimately." It was Scott's turn to scowl. "At least Taylor didn't actually put it that way."
Virgil made a sour face. "It was bad enough that Ray was asked about our love lives; hopefully she nipped that rumor in the bud." He picked up the pad, with his free hand. "Let's see; where was that?"
"So, Allison." Cindy was sitting back with her legs crossed at the ankle and tucked under her wing chair. "Your brothers are considered some of the most eligible bachelors in the world... and not just by women. What kind of partner are they looking for?"
"Hm." There was a slightly disapproving set to Rhea's lips as she considered her answer. "Well, I don't usually pry into my brothers' love lives, but I know for a fact that my brothers all enjoy the company of women in a dating situation. None of them swing for the other team, if you understand my meaning. Scott has quite a reputation as a ladies' man, while Virgil is pursuing a steady, long-distance relationship with a woman he met a few months ago. Alan has a romance brewing with a young lady employed by Tracy Ventures. Gordon and John are also looking to settle down someday and raise families. Even my father has a romantic interest; he's been squiring British model Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward to various events." She smiled, an almost feline expression on her face. "So you see, they're still eligible, but ladies only need apply."
"Whew! She certainly made no bones about our orientation." Gordon had resumed his seat in the lounger. He put his hands behind his head. "I'll have to remind her that she 'doesn't make it a policy to pry' next time she asks who I've met on shore leave."
Scott snorted a laugh. "I bet it's the one thing that their audience was most interested in hearing."
"That and the part about her love life," Virgil commented.
"Ah, yes." Scott nodded sagely. "Her love life, or lack of it. Play that part, too, Virge."
Virgil obligingly hit play again, then handed the pad to Scott while he resumed painting.
"Nice to know that the ladies out there have something to look forward to." Cindy's smirk was just short of a leer. "What about you? Your name has been connected with a number of eligible young men, Hiro Ozawa most prominent among them."
Rhea chuckled. "Well, I'm not currently involved with anyone, really. Mr. Ozawa is a nice young man; I've known him since I was a teenager, and his father is very eager that we become more than friends. I'm just not too fond of people who push themselves on me. Or are being pushed on me, which is more the case here. I'm really looking for a particular kind of man, and they're not easy to come by."
This piqued Cindy's interest. "Oh? What kind of man are you looking for?"
Rhea pursed her lips. "I'll do a little edit on the old song: I want a man, just like the man that married dear old Mom." She shrugged slightly. "I know I'm not going to find a man who has done all the things my father has in his life, but I'm looking for a man who is like him in all the quiet, invisible ways. Strong, intrepid, loyal, loving, willing to put his family first, selfless... there aren't a lot of men my age that have gotten all of those down yet. It may be a while before I find what I'm looking for, I'm afraid. Which will disappoint my grandmother as she'd like me to settle down and start giving her great-grandchildren."
Now Cindy thought she had something juicy. "Wouldn't you say that's a bit of an Electra complex there?"
Rhea shook her head firmly, but her tone was slightly airy. "Oh no, just hero worship, plain and simple. I'm very lucky to have the father I do; he's taught me so much over the years. The man I marry - if I marry - has got to be someone I can look up to the way I look up at my father."
"Whoo!" Gordon said, grinning. "I wonder if Grandma's heard that yet?"
"I suppose we'll find out when Ray comes home for Thanksgiving," Scott said. He fast-forwarded to near the end. "I do like what Ray had to say at the end of the interview, though."
"Oh, yeah. That was a great line!" Gordon said.
Scott pressed play. Cindy glanced up at her prompter. "So, Allison, you're the CEO, the worker, the 'heiress apparent' to the Tracy empire. You're slaving away in New York while the rest of your family enjoys paradise." She leaned in a little to better punctuate her point. "Don't you think it's rather unfair that your brothers get to enjoy their hobbies and do what they love, while you don't?'
Rhea smiled, a sly expression, as the camera zoomed in to a close up of her face. "Why, Cindy, whatever gave you the impression that I don't?"
"I've always wondered why she was so into business," Virgil said, still painting. "It always seemed weird to me."
Scott shrugged. "She just has a knack for it, I guess." He frowned. "But that 'heiress apparent' business. Where did they get that?"
"I noticed that they didn't have any recent pictures of us." Gordon said, turning off the data pad and putting it aside with more care than before. "I bet people wonder why there are few current pictures of us."
"I'm sure their photo department did," Virgil said. "But... I think... that whatever... Dad wanted to accomplish... it didn't go... as well as... it could... have." He punctuated this last sentence with with a series of sibilant little grunting sounds as he drew bolder strokes on his canvas. Finally, he sighed, and put down his palette. He wiped his brush on a rag, then dropped it in a glass jar of paint solvent. "There. I can't do anymore. The light's gone."
Scott frowned and looked around, then got up to peer over his brother's shoulder. "Hey, that's nice, Virge!" He glanced up at the sun, back at the painting, then glanced over at the flowers his brother was trying to capture. "I see what you mean; the sun doesn't bring out the colors now. Is this for the show?"
"Yeah," Virgil said, wiping his hands off on another, slightly cleaner, rag. "If nothing, the interview reminded me that I needed to have a few more pieces ready." He shook his head . "I'll take a quick trip to get some reference photos, or do some painting elsewhere. Can't do everything here on the island; that would be boring."
"You should put that abstract of Alan up for sale," Gordon quipped. "You know how much he hates..."
His sentence was cut off by an all-too-familiar wailing sound. Scott sprinted for the curved stairs that led to the balcony and the lounge beyond. Virgil took a moment to move his easel and painting into the protective cover of the balcony, while Gordon helped haul the box of paints. "I'll get Kyrano to clear the rest," Virgil muttered as he doffed his painter's smock and cap and threw them down next to the easel. Then he quickly followed Gordon up the curved steps to find out who needed their help this time.
"I think they're all asleep," Rhea commented quietly as she looked back into the cockpit. They were flying the family's custom built TI-722, christened "Family Van" by Gordon. Four of the passenger seats had been removed at the island to accommodate the dog crates, both of which were safely locked into place. Tin-Tin was taking advantage of the reclining seats to catch a nap on the return flight.
"Penny for them," John said, noticing his sister's pensive look. She started a bit, and gave him a wide smile.
"Just thinking how close our family is, how much of a cohesive unit it still is, even though we're all adults." She motioned to the passenger cabin with her head. "Scott didn't design this for the market; he was thinking of us. It's flexibility, the comfort... every detail shouts 'my family deserves this!'." She shook her head slowly, still smiling. "Even now he's working to keep us together."
"And you're still seeing to our creature comforts, just like you did just after Mom got sick," John said. He turned his gaze to the sky. "You might not be making our beds and washing our clothes or balancing the checkbook, but you're providing the money to buy what we need, and to keep us running." He looked thoughtful. "In a way, you've taken over Dad's position there."
"Well, he deserved to retire and enjoy the fruits of his labor," Rhea said, sighing slightly. "Besides, he had a new challenge to take on, and I was the one trained to take his place in the business, so he could put all his energies into IR. And, I'll admit, he was right about me being ready when I was needed." She paused a moment, lifting a hand to readjust her headphones, and remembered her confrontation with her father over her place in International Rescue.
xxxx
June, 2063
Jeff had called a family meeting at the only time he could really do so: between Gordon's return from a year under the sea, and John's departure for six months on the International Space Station. The call had been at short notice; Rhea had to fight with her boss so she could join the family at her father's recently-purchased tropical island. Truth to tell, she had welcomed the chance to get away; her current job was frustration incarnate. She only remained there for the experience she felt it could offer her.
They had just come back from a tour of Mateo Island, another little islet in the chain Jeff now owned, where Thunderbirds Two and Three were being built. Her brothers were all excited and gung-ho about the venture, but she wasn't so sure.
"So, what do you think?" Jeff had asked. They were sitting in the still half-furnished lounge area of the Villa, just the two of them. "You've seen all of my plans. You know what I want from your brothers. You know my motivations."
She nodded. "Yes, I do. I've heard it all." And she had indeed. She knew the family history behind the idea: the untimely death of her Grandpa Tracy, Aunt Madison, and two young cousins in an avalanche before she was even born. She knew how much input her mother had given to the project from that horrific day onward. And she knew that her mother had wanted their plan to go forward after her own death - though she doubted her mother would approve of her father's choice of staffing this crazy dream.
"Good." Jeff grew somber. "I know I'm too old to go out and do the things I want your brothers to do, but I do want to be a part of it. I want to give them direction from base, to smooth things out for them whenever possible. In other words, I'll be their commander here, while Scott will command in the field. However, for me to do this, I need to be here."
Rhea's face slowly took on an expression of understanding and consternation as he continued. "Someone needs to be at the helm of Tracy Ventures. Someone with sound business sense; someone I can trust." The laugh lines around his eyes crinkled up as he smiled. "That someone is you, Rhea. I want you to take the reins in New York."
Whatever reaction Jeff had anticipated, Rhea's was not it. She took a couple of deep breaths, letting them out slowly. She ran a suddenly sweaty hand through her hair, threading her fingers through it, pulling it back tight on that side as her hand rested briefly at the back of her head. Moistening her lips with her tongue, she shook her head in disbelief. Without looking at her father, she said, "I... I should have known that would be what you wanted. Of all of us, I'm the only one who could be happy running your company."
He cocked his head to one side. "Isn't that your heart's desire, Rhea? To be the CEO, to have the big office? Isn't that what you've been studying and working for all these years?"
"N-N... y-yes!" she stammered, raising a splayed, jerking hand, moving it as if to push something away. "Yes." The word came out through gritted teeth. "Damn it, Dad! Damn it!" She would not meet his gaze; she frowned, looking as if she'd tasted something sour and smelled something bad. Slapping the faux leather cushion, she cried, "You know that's been my goal! You know I had you and Tracy Ventures in mind all the time!"
Jeff smiled now. "So, now you can have it. Just... sooner than you expected, that's all. After all, I'll be retiring; no one will suspect anything." A slight frown crossed his face. "Wait. Don't tell me you actually like your job? You've complained so much..."
"Dad." When he quieted, she glanced his way, her face and voice betraying her dislike. "You know I don't like it. It's... it's just a stepping stone, giving me experience I'll need. A stop on the way to bigger and better things... like the big office at Tracy Ventures. Eventually." Finally, she cleared her throat, and turned to him, her eyes pleading for his understanding. "I can't, Dad. I just can't. Not now. I don't have the skills yet, the know-how. I need more time; time to learn from others, to get to know the company. To make the transition less stressful for all involved." She shook her head. Her shoulders slumped; she looked resigned. "I'm sorry. I'm not ready."
"But, Rhea." Jeff's expression showed clearly his concern and his puzzlement. "I think you'll do fine. It's not like you'll have to take the reins tomorrow. You'll have time to..."
She cut him off by rising. "Dad. I'm not ready. I know it, and I think you do, too."
He moved to stand by her, taking her by the upper arms. "I know you will be ready when the time comes. I've always known that."
"That time hasn't come yet, Dad." Gently, she pulled his hands free of her arms. "I'm sorry."
xxxx
"Ray? You in there?" A hand flashed across her face, and she started, blinking several times. John barked a laugh. "Woolgathering, were we?"
Rhea looked sheepish. "Yeah, sorry about that. Just remembering that visit when Dad showed us IR."
"Yeah. That was something. You really hated the idea, didn't you? Refused him outright."
"Yes, I did. But... he was right in the end. When he needed me, I was ready. Just like Scott will be ready to take Dad's place as commander, when and if he decides to finally slow down." She glanced at her brother, raising an eyebrow. "By the way, you never did tell me what Dad used as leverage to get Scott to let you come. Something about Gordon...?"
John laughed. "Virgil told me that Dad threatened to let Gordon take One." He paused, then added, "And he also threw out the idea of Tin-Tin going up to Five instead of Alan."
"Gordon on One? God forbid!" She laughed, shaking her head, and adjusting her headphones again. "Damn hair. Should have had Therese braid it this morning. It's too slick when it's down." Once she was comfortable again, she added, "Poor Tin-Tin. Alan keeps trying to have his cake and eat it, too. Gotta have a word with that boy."
At dinner, Tin-Tin had confessed that she'd known nothing about Alan's duplicity. "I thought he was being considerate, inviting me to play tennis and take a break from the project," she'd said in disgust. "I had no idea he was trying to deceive the rest of the family."
The thought of Tin-Tin's confession made Rhea ask, "How's the project coming?"
John's demeanor became serious, and snorted a little, "Hmph". "Not good, Ray, not good at all. The probes aren't going to cut it, and I can't get good enough images for Phase Three, should we have to initiate it. We're going to have to make that trip, and assess things for ourselves." He sighed a little. "The only good thing about it is that the figures haven't changed. Our timetable remains the same." He glanced over at her. "How are things on your end?"
"The shuttles are coming together nicely; the only problem has been finding safe places to store them until we're ready."
"Hm. That is a problem. I know Alan was pretty confused when that first one took off. I have no idea what Brains told him to keep him from spouting off to Dad." John said, sounding thoughtful. "How about Brains's other devices?"
Rhea sighed. "I don't know that we can make them powerful enough to do what he wants. Which means that we'll need a whole lot more of them if we don't implement Phase Three, and maybe even if we do."
"So, it looks like Phase Three will be necessary." John rubbed his chin.
"Yep. It does."
They were quiet for a while, then she asked, "Has Dad told them yet?"
John shook his head. "I don't think so. And he needs to, for Alan's sake if no one else's. I heard from the lunar stations on the matter back in September; if it had been Alan up there instead of me, he wouldn't have known how to respond. Then there was the whole business with the shuttle..." He paused, sighing. "I understand Dad wants all his ducks in a row, and he'd rather have us focusing on rescues right now, and not worrying about the future. But he can't hide it for much longer." He paused. "I'm going to talk with him about it over the holiday."
"A good call. I'll back you up all the way," Rhea told him.
"Which brings us to that attempt yesterday." John faced forward, letting the statement hang there in the air.
"I'd ask you to explain how discussing Dad and the project brings us to yesterday's incident, but I know how inventive you can be devising those kinds of connections." Rhea was quiet for a moment, then shrugged again. "You probably know everything I told Dad, and whatever Mother Hen told him as well."
He turned his head toward her. "Pretend I don't know a thing. Tell me a story, Rhea."
For the next half hour she told him all about the incident in the park, what transpired afterwards, and the discussions she'd had with Marilee and Jeff. When she finished, she asked, "What do you think?"
"I don't, at the moment. I'll need to mull this over some more before I have any kind of opinion."
They lapsed into a friendly silence. Rhea watched her brother for a moment. They were close, she and John. It wasn't just that they'd shared an apartment while they were both in Boston, John working on his degree in Laser Communications at Harvard, and her working on a MBA, taking courses at both MIT Sloan and Harvard. They also enjoyed talking about business, something that none of the other boys were interested in. She and Scott often butted heads, both being the eldest of their genders. She could talk to Virgil about music, true, but that wasn't a subject as dear to her heart. Gordon's obsession with the sea had puzzled her, as did his insistence on joining WASP right out of high school. Alan had often impressed her as being immature. It was John, brilliant, steady, self-effacing, to whom she turned. It angered her when she heard that Alan had somehow weaseled out of his monthly stint in Thunderbird Five, but there wasn't much she could say. She and John conversed a lot, both when he was in the satellite and on the island. She didn't talk with any of her other brothers as much.
He shook his head slowly, looking troubled. She reached out to touch his shoulder. "Penny for them," she offered.
He turned to her and gave her a sad smile. "What happens if we fail? What happens if our calculations are wrong, or something breaks down, or we don't get things done in time."
She squeezed his shoulder. "John, I..."
"Don't say we won't fail, Ray." His anguish was only too clear. "Just don't. The timing on this is touchy; you know that. There are too many variables and if they don't all come together... the world will lay this whole mess at our feet. Just because we tried to help."
Rhea echoed his sigh. "I know, John. I know they will... and they'll never forget."