In The Still Of The Night

The light pulses red.

I move slowly.

Too slowly.

I must find him!

Where is he?

I don't see him!

Where are you?

I can't find you!

I see....

I see....

Rubble.

A gloved hand sticking out

Oh, God, no!

No!

I tear at the rubble.

I uncover the body.

I turn it over.

The helmet is smashed.

The face is covered with radiation burns.

It is his face.

My father's face.

I couldn't save him.

I was too late.

Too late!

Scott woke from his nightmare, sitting bolt upright, sweating. He stared into the darkness of his room, comprehending nothing but the scene from the dream. His father, dead in his arms, helmet smashed, face covered with burns.

But that wasn't him, was it?

Slowly, reality trickled into his still-waking mind and he realized that it was a dream, a nightmare. He drew his knees up and laid his forearms across them, resting his forehead on his arms, letting his pulse and respiration calm down and return to normal. Finally, he took a deep breath and let it out. Then, swinging his legs over the side of his bed, and putting on his dressing gown, he went into his bathroom.

Turning on the light, he rubbed his unshaven face, and splashed it with cold water. His mouth felt foul from the scotch he had consumed earlier at Virgil's suggestion. Scott brushed his teeth and swished his mouth out with mouthwash. Then he padded out into the hall in the direction of the sick room. He met no one along the way; the rest of the Villa seemed to be deeply asleep, worn by nearly three days of care and worry over Jeff.

As he walked, he remembered again the terrible time after they removed Jeff from the battery chamber. Alan's pale face, watching from outside the decontamination chamber while they three endured the cleansing procedures so the doctors could safely treat the injured man Waiting, pacing impatiently while the Hygenus Rille surgeons repaired their father's ribs and punctured lung and set the arm that was broken. The deep concern of the neurologist over the concussion and the angry argument that broke out when John and Scott and Alan all adamantly refused to leave their father in the care of the medical staff there.

He remembered vividly the moment of heart-stopping shock when one of the nurses addressed John as "Mr. Tracy" despite his feature concealing visor. Fortunately, she had carefully chosen a moment when no one else could overhear, and had just wanted to tell him how much she enjoyed his books. She assured them that she would keep his involvement in International Rescue a secret. Scott had to wonder if she could. He and John and Alan all discussed the possibility of someone at Hygenus Rille recognizing their father as Jeff Tracy, lunar pioneer, even after 30 years. "Most of these people would have seen Dad's old Space Agency picture in some moldy textbook or other," Alan scoffed. "They'd be more likely to wonder why billionaire Jeff Tracy was running around with International Rescue."

And then there was the agonizing ride back to Earth. Even though Alan used a short burst of emergency speed, the ride still seemed to take far, far too long. There was the waiting in the small sickbay on Thunderbird Three, beginning the vigil that would continue when they touched down in the launch silo. The pale faces of the various family members and the tears on Tin-Tin's cheeks when they brought Jeff out of the spaceship and into the lounge, using the couch as a stretcher. And the family gathered around the bedside, waiting on Brains' evaluation of Jeff's condition. His verdict: "Unchanged".

The door to the sick room swished open quietly. There was a soft light on next to the bed, enough to let a caregiver see, but not enough to wake a sleeper. The chair was occupied, as Scott knew it would be. This time, Kyrano was sitting there, holding vigil over Jeff's still, abused body. Kyrano turned to Scott and gave him a small smile.

"Any sign of waking?" Scott asked softly.

"No, Mr. Scott. Not yet." Kyrano turned back to gaze at his old friend.

"Brains says that if he doesn't wake by daybreak, we'll have to take him to a hospital. He's been unconscious too long."

Kyrano nodded. "It would be a sad start to the New Year were your father to be taken from the Island."

"Oh yeah. It's New Year's Eve. I'd forgotten. Last day of the year," Scott said, moving over to the window and pulling back the curtain. "Has anyone called Penelope to give her our regrets?"

"Yes, Mr. Scott. Tin-Tin placed the call yesterday and told her Ladyship that we would not be attending her New Year's Eve gala. She sent her love and good wishes to us all and get well wishes especially for your father."

There was silence for a few moments. Scott stared out at the darkness, seeing nothing. Kyrano studied his friend's face, so blank and devoid of expression.

"I am sorry, Mr. Scott, that your entreaties to your father did not sway him. I was sure that they would. I was certain that if he knew your concerns about his safety, he would step back and reconsider his course of action. But I was wrong. He had set himself to this task, and he would not be swayed," said Kyrano softly. "It is something I do not understand."

"Why not? You said you'd gone through something like this once," Scott pointed out, turning from the window.

Kyrano colored as he had before. "Yes. At least I believe I did. It took a very emotional event to make me see my foolishness."

"What happened, if I may ask?" Scott queried.

"I had it in my mind that I would take my wife and child and would move to the rain forest of South America. There, I would use my skills as a botanist to discover new plants and derive new, organic medicines and other useful things from the flora. We would live in a tent, and perhaps later, a small house. My Samani would teach Tin-Tin and take care of our needs. We would learn to live off the land in simplicity." Kyrano smiled at the reminiscence. "It was a foolish dream and one that did not take into account the needs of my wife and child. But I was adamant in my mind that this was our future. I was about to tell my wife about our change of plans and then buy the necessary accoutrements for our journey to the rain forest."

"What stopped you?"

Kyrano sat silent for a moment. Then, very softly, he replied, "The untimely death of my beautiful Samani." He sighed. "In one stroke, I was brought up against harsh and bitter reality. I could not bring my daughter to the rain forest and leave her to raise herself while I followed my selfish dream. So, I quietly dropped it. Once in a while, I still wonder, what if....? But had I gone on and done as I had planned, I would not be here, helping your father maintain and nurture his dream, one that is so much bigger than my own puny imaginings." Kyrano looked up at Scott. "But I still do not understand why your father, a practical and pragmatic man, did not see the logic in remaining at his chosen post."

Scott shook his head as he sat on the edge of his father's bed. "What makes a man divorce his wife of twenty or thirty years to marry a girl who could be his daughter? What makes a man buy a flashy sports car or a fast boat? What makes a man spend his money profligately or make a frenzy of investments or take up gambling? I think it's the fear of getting old, the realization that you're no longer young enough to really fulfill the dreams you have for yourself, the ones you always assumed you'd have time for." He looked over at his father's face. "The fear of getting old."

He smiled a half-hearted smile at Kyrano. "I suppose I should be feeling some of that pressure right now myself. I'm getting older and my dream of a wife and children still needs to be fulfilled. I've always assumed I have enough time for it, that I could put it off for another day. But now, I'm not so sure."

"When you find the right woman, Mr. Scott," Kyrano said. "Then you can fulfill that dream. But your father is right about one thing, you and your brothers need to go away and look for your soul's mate. You will not find her here." He smiled wryly. "At least most of you will not."

Scott chuckled. He squeezed his father's hand gently, then got up and looked out the window again. The sky was brightening with the dawn. He glanced at his father again. Well, Dad. This is it. Either you wake up today, or we move you to Wellington. And our security may be blown as the world finds out that Jeff Tracy, lunar pioneer, is hospitalized.