Under The Weather

Jeff put his face mask on as the airlock quickly filled with water. "Jeff to Thunderbird Two. Is Sealink ready to be lifted?"

"Yes, it is," Virgil stated.

"Then get it out of the water and take it to Scrutiny. Gordon, get me as close to her as you can, and give Scott a heads up and have Scrutiny stop where they are until we can get this gal back."

"F-A-B," the boys replied.

"Airlock is ready. Are we close?"

"Just a moment..." Gordon said. There was a half-minute of silence, then, "There! Go get 'er!"

"F-A-B. Opening airlock." Jeff pulled down on the manual lever that opened the airlock's bottom hatch, then he swam down and out. The sea looked gray-green from his perspective, and as he surfaced near the prow, the swells threatened to push him away from both Thunderbird Four and the figure he saw floating just a couple of meters away. She was conscious, and making an attempt to swim towards the bright yellow watercraft, but her flotation vest was half unfastened, and hindered her movement. Jeff pushed off from Thunderbird Four and swam towards her as strongly as he could. It seemed to take forever, and every swell threatened to thrust them further apart, but finally Jeff was able to grab her arm and pull her to him.

"What's a nice gal like you doing in a place like this?" Jeff quipped, shouting to be heard over the rain and the roll of thunder overhead.

"The crawl," she replied, spitting out sea water.

Jeff grinned behind his mask. "I think our ride's here!" he told her. "Airlock hatch is below, I'm afraid!"

Gordon had slowly moved Thunderbird Four closer to the pair, and now was close enough for the two swimmers to touch. Jeff guided her toward the aft section as Gordon continued to pull forward, moving with care so the wake of the submersible wouldn't add to the tumult of the sea.

Jeff unlimbered a breathing regulator from his tank. "We're going to have to stick together!" he explained loudly as he fitted it over her mouth and nose. "And without that flotation vest!"

She nodded, her eyes squinting at the salty sting of the seawater. Jeff felt for the vest's fastenings, his fingers fumbling as he released them one by one. Then he slipped a supporting arm around her as she pulled off the lifesaving device.

"Ready?" he called.

She paused for a moment, then nodded again.

"On three!" He held up his fingers, silently counting to three, then as the third finger went up, they submerged together. Flipping over so that they were facing down, Jeff kept an arm on her. She had her eyes shut tight, so he had to be her eyes, guiding her down the few meters it took to get them under Thunderbird Four. Once under the mini-sub, the pair swam upward and into the flooded airlock.

"We're aboard!" Jeff called.

"F-A-B!" Gordon's voice sounded in his ear.

The airlock hatch closed, and Jeff could put his feet on solid decking. As the water began to drain, the pilot staggered and he shored her up by pulling her arm around his shoulder. "Welcome aboard," he said, smiling.

"Thanks," she replied wearily. "Sealink?"

"Should be on its way to Scrutiny by now," Jeff assured her. "Let's get a blanket around you and get you into the cockpit."

Alan lay on his bunk, arms behind his head, unable to sleep. Outside, the sounds of rain and wind beat against the window to his room. It was the same way when he was home and his family was out rescuing someone, but at least there he could go to Command and Control when sleep eluded him. Here, he had no such recourse.

He rolled over onto his side, the gauze on one knee shifting as he did. Now that he was still, his knees lost no time in complaining about their earlier mistreatment. He was sore, both in body and in heart, and his mind refused to turn itself off.

How can I find out what's going on? If Fermat and I were rooming together... He lifted himself up on one elbow and punched his pillow, then laid his head back down again. I need to know!

His eyes closed momentarily, then they opened quickly as an idea came to him. The watch! I could call John and ask him! He turned the idea over in his mind a few times, then finally sighed. No. I'd better not. Dad said it was for emergencies... but, oh hell! I need to know!

He slipped out of bed, dropping to the floor lightly. Sugi was asleep, his deep breathing punctuated from time to time with a slight snore. Alan padded quietly over to his locked drawer and opened it, but instead of pulling out his watch, he took out his phone. If I just call the island, then I'll know, but I won't break Dad's rule about the watch, he reasoned. Taking the device into the bathroom, he shut the door behind him, and leaned up against the wall. The bathroom's night light turned on automatically, its intentionally low illumination meant to help those who used it to find their way, while discouraging any activity more complex than emptying one's bladder or bowels. It didn't matter much anyway; once Alan got his phone open, its backlighted keys and display gave him all the light he needed. He pressed the speed dial for the island, selected voice only, and waited for someone to pick up.

Scott hovered above the Scrutiny in Thunderbird One, watching as the RAN helicopter landed on the spot he had just vacated. Another helicopter hovered nearby, waiting for the signal to land and pick up its emergency passenger. The remainder of the front deck had been cleared as much as possible, and the Sealink sat there, close to the superstructure, now empty of scientists.

The Sealink pilot had been given the honor of going aboard Thunderbird Two when Thunderbird Four was retrieved, and had been winched down to the research ship in the rescue basket. Scott, who had been on his way to Thunderbird One at the time, had stopped to watch her give his father a kiss on the cheek before the basket hit the deck and she stepped off into the waiting care of the Scrutiny's medics.

"Scott to Jeff," the eldest son radioed to his father, a mischievous tone in his voice. "Don't think I didn't see that."

"See what, Scott?" Jeff replied, sounding oh-so-innocent.

"That little 'thank you' that the Sealink pilot gave you on the way down," Scott told him.

"Hey, the old man's got life in him yet," Jeff responded, amused.

Scott grinned. "Yeah, well, wait until I tell Lady Penelope about it."

Jeff barked a short laugh. "Go right ahead, son. Penny will understand."

Now the first RAN helicopter was in the air and the second was maneuvering into position. Scott was satisfied that their help was no longer needed. "Thunderbird Two, Thunderbird Five, and base from Thunderbird One," he said. "Calling stand down at 1205 hours local time."

"Thunderbird Two, F-A-B," Virgil replied, sounding more relaxed than he had for the past few hours.

"Thunderbird Five, F-A-B," John added, sounding relieved and upbeat.

"B-Base, F-F-A-B," Brains echoed from Command and Control. "Wh-What's your c-current ETA?"

Scott checked his chronometer. "Thunderbird One's ETA is eighteen minutes." He grinned. "I promise I'll leave some food for you guys, but you'd better hurry."

"Thunderbird Two ETA is forty-five minutes," Virgil said, a bit glumly.

"Don't worry, boys," came Onaha's voice. "I'm making a special snack to hold you until dinner. It will be ready in... oh, an hour or so. Give you all time to get back and shower."

"Onaha, you're the best," Jeff's voice cut in. He chuckled. "Well, Scott, sounds like you'll be cooling your heels waiting for that snack. You might as well pace us home."

Scott sighed dramatically. "F-A-B."

With that the two Thunderbirds turned their prows to the east and flew for home through the clearing sky.

"Come on," Alan whispered. "Pick up! Brains, Onaha, Kyrano, somebody! Pick up!"

There was a beep, then a familiar voice sounded in Alan's ear. "Alan, what are you doing up so late?"

"Hey, Dad!" the teen said softly. "I heard you were out on business, and in a bad storm. I wanted to know how things were going. I didn't expect you to be home."

"Where are you?" Jeff asked, frowning. "It sounds like there's an echo of some sort."

"I'm in the bathroom, so I don't wake Sugi," Alan told him. "Please, Dad. I was worried and I couldn't sleep, otherwise I wouldn't have called. How did things go? Is everyone all right? How long have you been back?"

Jeff sighed. "Yes, everyone is fine. We've been back for about forty minutes. No one was hurt, there were no fatalities among the rescuees. The weather was terrible and made things a bit complicated, but everything worked out fine. I'll have John download the details to the tertiary drive and you can read them sometime when Fermat's roommate isn't around."

"Is Gords okay? I was kinda concerned when I heard from Fermat that Brains was at Command and Control."

"Yes, he's okay; a little tired perhaps. I took him along because we needed a steady hand on Thunderbird Four." Jeff smiled a little, and his tone became less stern. "We could have used you out there today, Alan."

Alan let out a slight huff of air, a sound between shock and laughter. "Yeah, well, I would've been there if you hadn't sent me back to school."

"Yes, I know, but school is where you need to be, Alan. No shortcuts."

"No shortcuts, Dad. I promise."

"Good, now that you know that everything and everyone is okay, it's time to get back to bed. And that's an order, son."

"F-A-B," Alan murmured. "Have a good day, Dad. Love you."

Jeff shook his head in amazement. "Love you, too, Alan. Goodnight."

The call disconnected, and Alan breathed a sigh of relief. Then he put his phone on the vanity counter as he used the toilet and washed up. Moving back into his room, he padded across to his desk, returned his phone to the appropriate drawer and locked it, then climbed back into his bunk. Lee sounded as if he were still asleep, and Alan went gingerly, wincing as the ladder to his bed creaked. The noise didn't seem to disturb his roommate, and he was thankful for it. He slipped back beneath the covers and, this time, he dropped right off, secure in the fact that his family was safe at home.

The morning was gray, misty, and raw when Alan headed out after breakfast for the team run. Wet ground squelched beneath his feet as he hurried on to the gym, and he splashed through numerous puddles as he cut across the grass to get there. His breath condensed before his face, and his exposed skin felt damp and clammy when he finally entered the warm, brightly lit gymnasium. He had remembered his gear, and once in the locker room, slipped his gym bag inside a locker, using his thumb print to secure his belongings. Then he headed for the track team's meeting place.

Xavion was already there, along with Erik, Steve, and a couple of other team members. The tall captain looked up as Alan approached. "Alan. Coach wants to see you in his office."

Alan's heart sank, but he replied, "Thanks," and went off in the direction of Coach Evans's office. The door was ajar when he got there, and he could hear two men, Coach Evans and Coach Beccara, discussing something.

"Are you sure about this, Terry?" Coach Beccara asked. "Could Lewis possibly be wrong?"

"Yes, I'm sure and no, I don't think he is," Coach Evans replied. "Besides, there's corroborating evidence. From his roommate and from the director of student affairs..."

At this point, Alan realized he'd been eavesdropping and hurriedly knocked on the door. "Come in!" Coach Evans called. Alan did so and the coach looked up. "Ah, Alan. Please close the door behind you."

He did as he was told, and stood at an uneasy attention before the two coaches. "Alan, I got a notice from Ms. Belvedere telling me that you were involved in a fight yesterday," the coach began. "Is this true?"

Alan considered his answer for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, sir. It is. I was attacked..."

Coach Evans held up a hand. "I know all about what happened, and who was at fault. I merely wanted to stress to you that I don't like my players mixing it up, on the field or off of it. In this situation, it may have seemed you had no choice but, Alan, there is always a choice. I don't want to hear of it happening again. Do you understand?"

Alan moistened his suddenly dry lips. "Yes, sir," he replied, nodding.

"Good." Coach held out a hand. "Do you have an excuse for me from Ms. Bell?"

"Yes, sir." Alan put a hand into the pocket of his warm-up pants and pulled out a slightly crumpled note. "Here it is," he said as he handed it over.

Coach Evans nodded. "I received one via email, but I want my players to be responsible for their own paperwork as well. How are your knees?"

"They're a little bit sore, but I can run," Alan said.

"Good. Sit down, Alan." Coach Evans motioned to the hard plastic chair in front of the desk. "Now, I want you to tell Mr. Beccara what you told me about the syringe."

Alan sat as ordered, and shot a glance at the younger teacher. Then he explained the situation that he had walked in on that past Monday evening.

"Were there any vials, or evidence of what the syringe might have contained?" Coach Beccara asked.

Alan shook his head. "No, sir. I didn't see anything, but then again, I wasn't looking either."

"I see." Coach Beccara turned to his colleague. "I see what you mean. But to be fair, we'll have to include everyone."

"I agree." Coach Evans glanced at Alan. "Okay, Alan. You can go. I'll see you at practice this afternoon."

"Yes, sir," Alan replied as he stood. "I'll be there."

"You most certainly will," the older man told him. "Or you'll be cut from the team. Do you understand?"

"I understand, Coach," Alan said stoutly.

"Good. Now get moving."

Alan left the office and jogged back to where the team was gathered. Everyone was there, stretching to warm up, and as soon as Xavion spotted Alan, he opened the door to the gym. "Once around the track, then we'll take to the grass." The team members poured from the gym, and the senior waited for Alan to fall into step with him. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Good. Let's get going." With that, the two teenagers left the gym, falling into an easy running stride as they headed across the sodden field to the track.

"Hey."

Fermat looked up from his breakfast at the sound of Dominic Bertoli's voice. The yearbook editor stood by the table that Fermat was sharing with Jason, Qaeshon and A.J., his breakfast tray in hand.

"What do you want, Bertoli?" Jason asked, his tone of voice matched by his unsmiling face.

Dom sucked in a pronounced breath. "Have any of you seen Tracy around? I need to talk to him."

"N-No, not this morning," Fermat replied coolly. "H-He goes to b-breakfast with the r-rest of the a-a-a... the rest of his t-team."

"Oh!" Dom looked genuinely surprised. "I'd forgotten about the early breakfast shift." He shifted the weight of his tray slightly. "Well, if any of you see him, please tell him I need to talk to him within the next day or so about the rooming situation."

"We'll tell him," Qaeshon said with a nod.

"Thanks," Dom replied. "Talk to you all later."

Fermat waited until Dom was out of earshot to lean over and say, "Wh-What do you think that's all a-about?"

Jason shook his head. "Don't know, and don't care." He took a deep draught of milk. "You can tell Alan if you want. I'm not saying a thing."

"Maybe he wants to make the arrangements for Alan to move in after all," A.J. hazarded. "He sounded positive to me."

"M-Maybe," Fermat said thoughtfully. He shrugged. "I'll be s-seeing Alan in classes today. I'll l-let him know."

"Hope he can stay on the team," Qaeshon said as he chased down his last bits of scrambled egg. "Zave is really worried that he'll get cut."

"Well, Alan d-doesn't intend on g-getting cut," Fermat responded firmly. "The e-events of the last few d-days have been beyond his c-control. You'd think the c-coach could s-s-s... would kn-kn-kn... understood."

"You'd think so, yeah," Qaeshon said. "But when you're on a sports team at Wharton, you're supposed to be a good example all the way around. In your behavior, your grades, the way you push yourself at practice, it's all important." He shook his head. "I really pity the guys who are on scholarship. They've just got that much more pressure."

"Scholarship?" Fermat asked. "I d-didn't know that Wh-Wharton gave s-scholarships."

"Yeah, it does," Qaeshon answered. "It's supposed to be a big secret but they have a few for deserving athletes, usually upperclassmen. No one knows who gets them, though, or where the money comes from. At least, none of the other athletes do. The administration and the coaches might. The only reason I know is because Zave overheard a bit of conversation between the coaches once." He shrugged. "I'm glad Zave and I have trust funds that pay for this." He waved a hand in the air, indicating the whole of the school around them. "I can't imagine how tough being dependent on a scholarship would be."

"Yeah," A.J. echoed, looking puzzled. "It would be tough."

"Are you guys finished?" Jason asked irritably. "I'd like to get a move on here."

"What bee's up your butt?" Qaeshon asked sharply. "You've been a pain all morning so far."

Jason looked anywhere but at the dark-skinned teen and sighed. "It's Ralph. He's been pretty snide this past day or so, ever since Sugi invited him into the inner circle. Keeps snarking at me about hanging out with Fermat and Alan." He shook his head. "You guys have been good friends to me, the best kind. I'm not going to stop being your friend just because my roommate's got his head up his ass. But... I don't like him making fun of me."

"Hey, I wouldn't like it either, Jase," Qaeshon said, nodding in understanding. "Nobody would. Just ignore him."

"W-We'll get through this, J-Jase," Fermat added. "Things will d-die down." He glanced at his own roommate. "But I'd h-have thought that wh-what A.J. t-told him would have m-made him think."

"He's had some choice words about A.J., too," Jason added gloomily. "But I think that's because he lost face with his friends when A.J. owned him." He smiled slightly at the youngest in the group. "And you did, A.J. my man. You really did."

"I agree, A.J.," Qaeshon said, giving the younger boy a light punch on the arm. "You rocked, man!"

"A-Add me to the f-fan club," Fermat said with a laugh. "That was a-awesome."

"Thanks," A.J. said, grinning. "I'm working on some more good comebacks for various occasions. Better to think of them beforehand than after the fact."

The four friends laughed a bit, then Jason rose from the table. "I'll take your tray, Brain, so you don't have to face that creepy Pierce. Wait for us near the door."

"O-Okay," Fermat said, nodding. He pushed his tray over to Jason and stood, stretching his good arm, then picking up his school bags. "See you in a f-few minutes."

"Right."

The three friends headed to the tray return, and Fermat wandered over to the door to wait. He smiled a bit as he stood there, thinking about what he could possibly say to someone like Ralph. I'll have to ask A.J. to tell me some of his comebacks. There are a few people I'd like to put in their places myself.