Unable to Resist

Sunday was a relatively quiet day. Alan slept in, though Fermat did not. He went to the infirmary as usual for his medication, then on to breakfast where he ended up sitting with Dom.

"Alan told me that you're st-staying." Fermat smiled. "I'm g-glad."

"Me, too," Dom replied. He took a spoonful of his cereal. "He helped convince my folks."

"So I h-heard. He's g-going to have a really swelled h-head now." The boys both laughed, then Fermat made a motion toward Dom's suit jacket. "G-Going to church?"

"Yeah, my folks will be coming to take me to Mass," Dom said with a nod. "You?"

"Have to t-take medication for the arm," Fermat explained, raising the arm in question. "Ms. Bell said it would be e-easier if I took it near m-mealtimes."

"Makes sense," Dom replied. He paused, then asked, "Is there anything in particular I should know about Alan? Any habits he has that might be surprising or strange?"

Fermat blinked a couple of times. "No, I can't th-think of any at the m-moment. I understand he has to be out e-early on weekdays for a t-team run, but that's not s-something I had to worry about last year." He shrugged. "If I th-think of something later, I'll be sure to t-tell you."

"Okay, thanks." Dom stood. He motioned toward Fermat's tray. "Want me to take that for you?"

"That'd be a big h-h-h... yeah, thanks," Fermat replied gratefully. He rose from the table, making sure all the debris from his breakfast was securely on the tray. "I'll see you l-later."

"Yeah. Have a good morning."

The majority of the group got together for lunch, where the talk was mostly of those who had left and those who were staying.

"Glad to see that Dom's staying," Jason said as he forked up some mashed potatoes. "Guess that old 'Tracy charm' does work."

"I didn't do much," Alan protested. "I don't think Mr. Bertoli was happy about bringing Dom home. I just sort of... provided another argument in his favor, that's all. Dom was the one who stood up for himself and said he wanted to stay."

"Yeah, well, whatever it was, it worked," Jason replied. He glanced over to the table where Ralph sat next to Lee. "Wish Ralph would stand up for himself."

"Why?" Qaeshon asked, frowning. "What's up?"

"He told me that Sugi wants him to move to his room, be his roommate." Jason shook his head. "Ralph doesn't want to, but he won't tell Sugi."

"That doesn't sound like Ralph," Alan commented.

"Hell, that doesn't sound like Sugi. I'd have thought he'd want a room to himself." Xavion took a long drink of fruit punch. "Why doesn't Ralph just tell Sugi 'No'?"

Jason shrugged. "I dunno. It's like he's scared to."

The boys all exchanged troubled glances. "D-Do you have to give a-approval for him to m-move?" Fermat asked.

"I'm not sure," Jason replied, frowning. "If there's four people involved, then all four have to agree, but I'm not sure what happens if there's only three. I may not have a say in it at all."

"What would you do if you're asked?" A.J. wanted to know.

"I guess I'd say 'No'." Jason looked down at his tray. "I mean, Ralph's been a pretty good roomie, really, even if he has gotten a swelled head lately. I like the guy, though I'm none too fond of the company he's been keeping. But there's something wrong; I don't know what it is. He's... changed. I can't put my finger on why, but it's there."

"Sounds familiar," Xavion said, nodding. "All too familiar."

When lunch was through, most of the boys went their separate ways. Jason mentioned he was going to play Settlers of Cataan in the games room, which interested A.J. Alan made plans to work out in the weight training room with Xavion, but first he wanted to get his math homework done. Qaeshon said he had to practice his violin. So A.J. wandered off with Jason, the Lewis brothers returned to Birchwood together, and Alan walked with Fermat to Maplewood.

"Did you get through to your dad?" Alan asked.

Fermat nodded. "Y-Yeah. He was i-i-i... hurt, so Dr. Hatoshi saw him. He's got m-mild whiplash and a b-bruised elbow, has to wear one of those neck b-braces. But he accomplished what he n-n-n... had to."

"Maybe we could look at the tertiary drive while A.J.'s out; read up on the logs," Alan suggested quietly. He glanced at his watch. "It's too early there to call. Besides, I think they're supposed to bring John home today." He brightened. "Hey! Maybe he can come out and see me compete!"

"I think your d-dad would have a hard time k-keeping him away," Fermat said with a grin. "And A.J. would be really excited to meet his f-favorite author."

"I'll have to tell Dad that John just has to come!" Alan's grin matched Fermat's. "Come on! Let's boot up your computer and see what went on."

"Wow." Alan's eyes grew wide as he read over the logs describing the rescue efforts. "Your father got a lot of action. Wish he was more descriptive in his logs though."

"He's not a v-very creative writer," Fermat commented, a sour tone to his voice. "He'd rather stick to f-facts." He peered at the screen. "Is that what I th-think it is? The v-v-v... recording?"

Alan moved the cursor over to click on the file. "Yeah! It is! Wonder how Dad got hold of it."

"And wh-what he thought of it," Fermat commented. He glanced up at Alan. "It's too long to w-watch here and now, Alan. We have no idea wh-when A.J. is coming back."

"Doesn't matter," Alan said firmly. "He already knows we're the school's biggest Thunderbirds fans. So what if he sees us with this."

"And wh-what if he asks where we g-g-got it?" Fermat frowned, putting his hand on the mouse and trying to click the player box down.

"We say my brothers taped it for me. Gordon, yeah... Gordon taped it for me." Alan kept hold of the mouse, trying to not only keep Fermat from disabling the vid feed but also click on the "play" button. "Fermat! I want to see this!"

"Alan! We're supposed to be d-doing homework!" The two pushed and pulled over the mouse, when Fermat finally resorted to the keyboard and shut down the tertiary drive.

"Hey!" Alan turned an angry face to his friend. "What did you do that for? I said I wanted to see it!"

"Well, I d-don't," Fermat said flatly. He reclaimed his mouse and popped a disk into his CD drive. "I'll c-copy it for you so you can v-view it at your leisure."

A tense, strained silence reigned as the vid was copied. When it was finished, Fermat slid the disk into a protective envelope and handed it to Alan. "The h-homework assignment, p-please."

Alan shook his head. "What's with you?" he asked. "I just wanted to see the rescue. I don't usually get this kind of chance. And it's not as if your dad was badly hurt. You know he's okay."

Fermat sat still, looking at his computer screen instead of at Alan. "The h-homework assignment, please."

There was another long pause, then Alan picked up his math book. "If you're going to be that way, fine." He fumbled with it and pulled out the paper he'd written the assignment on, handing it to Fermat. "Here. I have another copy in my planner."

He picked his jacket off of Fermat's bunk and tucked his book under his arm. He was about to step out the door when Fermat's voice stopped him. "How d-did you feel, seeing your f-family all floating around in Th-Thunderbird Five, pale and m-motionless? How did you f-feel when you c-called and they wouldn't a-answer?"

Alan turned around. The memory lingered, and was still the fodder of nightmares, even nearly six months after the fact. A thousand words, a hundred feelings had passed through his mind back then, but two had taken hold with a strength that astonished him, and those feelings hadn't passed, but instead were buried as deeply as he could manage. They welled up now as the vision flashed before his internal eye.

It was hard for him to choke it out. "Afraid," he said in a low voice. "Helpless."

"Do you w-want to see it again?" Fermat still wasn't looking at Alan.

"No." Alan was emphatic.

"Why not? You kn-know they're okay. They're s-safe."

"No." Alan shook his head. "It's too... hard."

Fermat finally turned to his friend, his face solemn. "Then you understand why I'd r-rather not see that r-rescue again." he said brusquely.

It was Alan's turn to look away. He nodded, his eyes turned toward Fermat's bunk, but not focused on anything in particular. At last he said, "Yeah. I guess I do." He glanced up again, and sighed. "I'm sorry."

"I know."

There was nothing more, no statement of forgiveness, no half-hearted smile. Alan knew Fermat had called him out for thinking about only himself again, just like in the jungle on that terrible day and, just as before, he didn't like it. But this time, it wasn't the fact that he'd been caught and called on it that shamed him as much as it was the fact that he'd done it in the first place. And that made a difference.

"I guess I'd better get back to my room and start working on my homework," Alan said with a shrug.

Fermat had gone back to staring at his computer screen. "Yeah, I guess you'd b-better."

"Thanks for the vid."

"You're w-welcome."

Alan turned to leave, then swung back again. "See you at dinner?"

"M-Maybe."

He sighed almost inaudibly. "Okay. Later, Fermat."

Fermat nodded, and Alan left.

Jeff frowned at the readouts as he absently lifted his cup of coffee to his lips. He only looked up when he heard a chorus of, "Good morning, Brains," from the sons that were at the breakfast table.

"Good morning, Brains," he echoed, putting down the computer pad. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"St-Stiff and s-s-s... achy," Brains replied. He sat down, his posture straighter than normal due to the collar. He called Jeff's attention to a small pill bottle by shaking it quickly. "B-Before you ask, I have my p-p-painkillers right here. I'll t-take them with breakfast."

"What makes you think I was going to ask?" Jeff responded blandly, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

Brains didn't reply; he merely scowled at Jeff and reached for the orange juice pitcher. Just as his hand was about to close on the handle, Onaha swept into the room, picked up the jug, and poured some for him.

"How are you feeling today, Brains?" she asked with a brisk solicitousness as she brought a plate of freshly made pancakes to him.

"I'm, uh, st-stiff and sore," Brains admitted.

"Do you have your painkillers with you?" she asked.

Scott shot an amused glance to Virgil, while Gordon elbowed him from the other side and chuckled quietly. Brains's eyes opened in surprise, then he turned to Jeff, who gave him a smirk that said plainly, "See, I don't have to ask."

"Y-Yes, I have them," Brains told Onaha.

"Good. Make sure you take them," she said with a decisive nod of her head, and a motherly pat on his shoulder. "They won't do you any good sitting in the bottle."

"Y-Yes, ma'am."

The Tracy sons chuckled a little more at Brains's predicament, then settled in to eat their breakfast. Brains took a few bites and peered at the data pad Jeff had placed next to his plate. "Are those the r-results of the fogger t-testing?"

"Yes, Brains, they are." Jeff picked up the pad again. "Seems that everything is working perfectly."

"We tried every angle, at every distance we could manage in the silo, Brains," Scott said. "And every type of photography we have available. The fogger caught it every time."

"I don't understand it," Virgil added with a frown. "How did they get such clear pictures?" He turned to Scott. "Were they close? Could you see them?"

Scott shook his head. "I didn't see them actually. I suppose they could have been outside the range of the fogger."

"It still doesn't add up," Gordon said. He stopped to drink some juice, then added. "The pictures were clear, and there was very little interference."

"I-Interference?" Brains asked. "What do you m-mean?"

"Trees, buildings... stuff like that," Gordon explained. He took a bite of pancake, chewed, then pointed his fork at Brains. "In fact, the picture zoomed in and out, but never seemed to leave a certain vantage point."

"You could have that with a zoom lens," Virgil remarked.

"B-But..." Brains's thought trailed off. He turned to Jeff again. "C-Can I see the footage a-again?"

"Brains, you're off duty," Jeff reminded him in a warning tone.

"I kn-know. And I'll stay qu-quiet. But there's s-something... something I read about r-recently." Brains started to shake his head, winced, and thought better of it. "I might be able to r-recall if I see the f-f-f... vid."

Jeff looked at Brains thoughtfully, then nodded. "All right. But just watching. If you have any ideas, pass them on to me or John and we'll run a search. Agreed?"

"A-Agreed."

"And take your meds." Jeff took a last gulp of coffee, then motioned for more. "I've been watching you and I haven't seen you open that bottle yet."

Brains smiled sheepishly and reached for his medicine. "Y-Yes, sir."

Thunderbird Three had already taken off, on its way to bring John down to terra firma. It was Gordon's turn to stay and man the station; a job he didn't much like, and didn't usually protest. But the prospect of an upcoming trip to Wharton to see Alan in his first meet had sparked a mild complaint.

"Dad, I'd really like to see Alan compete," he had told his father. "It's going to be a special event, even more so for me with it being at Wharton and all. Could maybe Virgil or Scott stay this time? I'd be happy to swap duty weeks with them."

Jeff had shaken his head. "No, Gordon. I understand how exciting it is to see Alan compete for the first time, but Virgil stayed last month, and until we figure out why Thunderbird One wasn't able to interfere with those pictures, I want Scott to stay close for rescues." He had smiled and put a hand on his son's shoulder. "I promise that we'll record it all, and even upload it to you live if you like."

Gordon had sighed and his shoulders slumped. "All right, Dad. I'll go. I just had to try, y'know."

"I know," Jeff had replied. "Now, get Thunderbird Three in the air. John's waiting."

"Docking procedure complete," the feminine voice intoned as a bank of lights on Thunderbird Three's console turned green. Gordon shut down the requisite systems, then climbed out of his seat to grab his gear. Scott was already ahead of him, opening the airlock and heading inside the space station.

"Hey, guys," John said, turning away from the computer banks to greet his brothers. "I'll be with you in a few minutes. I'm doing a search for Dad."

"Okay," Scott replied amiably, as he approached. "What's the search all about?"

"Brains remembered reading something about a cutting edge method for photography, one particularly suited for action filming, especially at night. Dad asked me to see what companies are producing it and who might be using it right now. So far, it seems that there are three companies beta testing this new technology. I'm trying to see if IWN is among those doing the betas."

"Hm. You mean that the camera fogger isn't set up for this new photographic tech?" Scott asked.

John nodded. "That seems to be Brains's theory."

"Whew!" Scott said, suddenly grinning. "If it is, it'd be a load off my mind."

"Hey!" Gordon's voice came from behind them. They turned to see him toting a plastic box. "You two going to help me unload or do I leave you both here with nothing to eat?"

Scott rolled his eyes. "Like you could do that with John sitting here, in control of the airlock and docking arm."

"I could do an emergency override," Gordon replied. "Start emergency separation."

John tapped a few keys. "Nope. Now you can't. I've just logged you off as primary pilot and logged myself in. Without my clearance code, you're going nowhere, kiddo."

Gordon put down his burden, waving a dismissive hand before turning away. "I'll just go down to crew's quarters to unpack then - maybe even take a nap. Let me know when you're ready to lend a hand."

The older brothers exchanged glances. Scott sighed heavily, while John shook his head. "Okay, okay, we're coming," Scott said, following Gordon out of the control room, John right behind him. "God, but you're in a foul mood."

"Well, you'd be too if you were stuck up here when your younger brother's going to make his debut as a track and field sensation," Gordon complained. "I asked if I could swap weeks with you or Virgil, and Dad said, 'No'."

"All right," Scott responded testily. "I get the picture."

John reached out to put a hand on Gordon's shoulder. "I'm sorry things have to be this way, Gords, but we'll do our damnedest to keep you in the loop, okay?"

Gordon blew out a heavy breath. "Yeah, okay, whatever. C'mon, let's get this over with."

When they finished unloading Three, John went back to his search. "Let me wrap this up and download the information to Dad." He scrolled through the articles he'd amassed, Gordon and Scott both looking over his shoulder.

"Hey, wait," Gordon said suddenly. "Back it up a bit."

John gave his brother a puzzled look and scrolled back up the search page. Gordon watched intently until he saw what he was looking for. "That! Right there." He reached across John to point to a particular article.

" 'Inventor sues for control of his creation'," John read aloud. " 'Dr. Daniel Sugimoto, creator of the Mega Speed Action Capture Camera v. 1, is suing to retain his rights to the hardware and software that he claims to have created in the early 2020s. Dr. Sugimoto claims that his is the basic design currently being beta-tested by the audio-vid giants Sony, Canon and Hitachi. "My designs were pirated," he said in an interview with World Business Weekly. "These companies are using proprietary technology and must be brought to account!" John paused and looked over at Gordon. "What interests you about this?"

"The name," Gordon explained. "Sugimoto is the last name of Alan's former roommate, the one who was giving him grief.

"You think there's a connection?" Scott asked, his brow furrowed.

Gordon shrugged. "I don't know. But it's worth looking into."

While Gordon talked, John completed the download of the information he'd gathered. "Well, you can do some more digging if you like," he told his younger brother. "As for me, I'm outta here."

He rose from his chair, and clapped Gordon on the shoulder. Scott reached out to ruffle the younger Tracy's hair and the three of them headed back to the docking port, John grabbing his already packed duffel bag along the way.

"See you next week, guys," Gordon said as he watched John and Scott climb aboard Three.

"See you then, Squirt," Scott said, grinning. He waved at Gordon, then the airlock door closed behind him.

Gordon stared at the closed door for a moment or two, then the all-too-familiar shudder that meant Thunderbird Three had separated from Five ran through the deck plating and he sighed. "Time to get to work," he murmured to himself. "Better check in with Dad... and let him know about the possible Sugimoto connection."

Alan sat at his desk, earphones on, his math book open but forgotten, watching the footage from the rescue. His foot beat an unconscious tattoo on the floor as he watched Brains climb out of Thunderbird One's hatch, and both groaned and winced when the scientist fell into the train. He stepped the disk ahead, to where he could see the lanky figure stand inside the car and make his way forward. It was his third time through the recording, and he'd had nearly the same reaction every time.

"Hey," came a voice at his ear. He glanced up to see Dom gazing at the screen over his shoulder. "I'd heard about this," Dom continued, "but I didn't get to see but a clip or two on the news. Where'd you get it?"

Alan removed his earphones. "My brother, Gordon, recorded it for me and I uploaded it this afternoon," he said, sticking with the story he'd chosen earlier. "Want to watch?"

Dom shook his head. "Thanks, but no. The little clip I saw of the guy falling into the train was enough, thanks."

Alan turned fully to regard his roommate. "Is that what they're showing on the vid?"

"Yeah. Over and over and over again." Dom shrugged. "That's what gets ratings, I guess. It'll be gone as soon as something more exciting comes along." He frowned a little. "Though I'm surprised that they actually got pictures of the whole event. Don't the Thunderbirds have a 'no pictures' policy?"

"Yeah, they do. It's been in the news lots of times," Alan said, nodding. "From what I've heard, they've also got some kind of device that can stop people from photographing them."

"Hmm. Wonder why they didn't use it this time?"

Alan shrugged. "Don't know. But it's cool to see them in action, isn't it?"

"Yeah, though I felt sorry for that guy who fell in. That must have hurt!" Dom turned back to his desk and sat down. "I'd better get on with things."

"Me, too." Alan clicked down the player, and turned back to his math book. There was a buzz at the door and Dom got up to open it. Zave stepped inside.

"You ready, Pinky?"

Alan groaned internally; he'd forgotten his appointment with Zave and the weight room. Still, maybe a workout is what I need to clear my head. Laying the book aside once more, he got up and grabbed his jacket. "Yeah. I'm ready. Let's go."