The Dark Pathway

The mood in Thunderbird Three's control room was tense. As soon as they were out of the atmosphere, Sally put on a sustained burst of emergency speed, the sudden increase in acceleration pushing both her and Mae back into their seats. But Brains had built Thunderbird Three well; neither of them ended up as jelly smears against the floor.

"ETA Thunderbird Five, forty minutes," Sally said firmly, using the information to brace herself as much as to inform Mae and the rest of the family at base.

"F-A-B," came the response from Jeff, faint but clear. Sally shook her head. We just might lose communications with base as well. We rely on Thunderbird Five more than we ever really realize.

She glanced over at Mae, dressed in her blue uniform, lavender sash in place, and manicured fingers all twisted together. Mae's brows were knit in an crease of worry and her eyes were focused on her hands, or seemed to be. Sally knew that she was in need of reassurance, and reached out to gently touch her sister's knee.

"What's up there, Mae-Bee?" she asked, using Mae's old childhood nickname, a cross between Mae and Ruby.

"Oh!" Mae started, then shifted her gaze to Sally. "I was just thinking..."

"Always a dangerous pasttime," Sally quipped gently. Mae rolled her eyes, then looked somber again.

"I was thinking: why did Daddy send me out on this rescue? This very, very important one? He sends me out on so few. I think he's afraid I'll screw up. I'm not the most focused member of the team, after all."

Sally thought for a moment before answering. It was true that Jeff didn't send Mae out on a lot of rescues when she was home. Sally didn't understand why; it's not like he didn't send her out on any at all. And when he did, they were rescues where she was either stuck working in one of the craft or had to wear protective gear. A sudden thought came up. I wonder if it's because he's afraid she'd be recognized! Her picture was all over magazines and in the news for quite a while. None of the rest of us have been as high profile, except maybe JC when she won that gold medal. And that was a long time ago.

"Y'know, Mae, I don't think that's it at all. I think he doesn't want you to be recognized and have people put two and two together," Sally ventured slowly. "He may be protecting IR's security by letting you go out on only selected rescues." Mae's expression went from concerned to puzzled to clear.

"Yeah, you may be right, Sally. I never thought of it that way." Mae now smiled slightly. Sally patted her knee.

"Well, whatever his reasoning, he sent you on this particular mission because he knew you had the skills we needed and because nobody, not even Val, knows Thunderbird Five like you do."

Mae sat up straighter. "You're right, Sally. Nobody does." She blinked a couple of times. "That's good, too. It means that Val could never find all the places I hid those pictures."

Sally snorted a laugh, one that was cut off by a sensor beeping at her. She checked the readout. "What the hell...? Mae, hold on!! Incoming! Commencing evasive maneuvers!"

She quickly activated the upper and lower attitude rockets on the side closest to the incoming bogeys, pushing the mighty spacecraft nearly sideways and out of their path. Out of the path of all but one. Thunderbird Three shuddered, one of its three nacelles hit by whatever it was that had been coming at them.

"Damage report, Mae!" Sally shouted as she fought to retain control of the ship.

"Oh, okay." Mae brought up a readout. "Looks like nacelle three has a hole in it. The ion driver's flow has been interrupted, but I think it can be restarted."

"Can you get me a scan on what those things were?" Sally asked. Mae sighed and brought up another window on the plasma screen in front of them.

"The computer doesn't know what they are, Sally." Mae frowned. "But according to this, they came from Thunderbird Five!" She turned to her older sister. "Could they be what holed the station?"

"Possibly. Do you have a trajectory on where they're going to end up?"

"A trajectory?"

"A path, Mae. The possible path they're going to take."

"Oh, yeah." Mae switched sensor readouts and put the current course of the objects on the screen, asking the computer to determine the ultimate destination of the projectiles. "Hmmm. Looks like they're all headed for Earth."

Sally bit back a scathing retort. "Where on Earth, Mae? Where?"

"Uh, the Pacific Ocean."

That fact sent warning bells through Sally's head. "Can you pinpoint it, Mae?"

"Hmm. I think so." The small box on the screen became more and more magnified. Mae's eyes grew wide.

"Oh. Oh no. They're going to either hit our island or hit nearby."

Sally paled, but kept her focus on regaining control of Thunderbird Three and reinitializing the ion drive particle gun in the damaged nacelle. "How long until they reach it?"

Mae plugged in some numbers, and frowned. She plugged in some numbers again, and went "Tch!"

"How long, Mae? How long?" Sally asked urgently.

"I'm trying to find out but I keep punching in the wrong numbers!" Mae cried in frustration. Her fingers punched the keys again. "There! I think that's right. 5 hours, 22 minutes. They'll gain speed as they enter the atmosphere."

"Well, let's hope that they burn up on entry and never touch the island," Sally said grimly. "Or that Christa can get out there and destroy them with the mini-missiles on Thunderbird Two. Let Dad know what's going on, would you? I've finally got this baby under control and am easing us back to our original heading."

"F-A-B," Mae said simply as she activated the communications panel to talk to their father.

"F-A-B, Mae, and thanks," Jeff said to the voice of his third daughter. Since they didn't have Thunderbird Five's boosting power to give both clear video and audio communications, Jeff had opted for audio only. It made for a stronger signal with more range and a clearer communication between the island and Thunderbird Three.

"Another twenty minutes!" Christa exclaimed as she sat the piano, hands idle. JC suddenly got up from her chair and headed out to the balcony, unable to sit still any longer. Jeff sighed. He was as worried about Valentina as they were, more so since she was his youngest, the last legacy of his sweet Lucille. But he was so thankful that Sally and Mae were unhurt from whatever it was that had punctured nacelle three.

They'll probably have to do a spacewalk to see how extensive the damage is and determine if it can be repaired. A touchdown with a damaged nacelle would be more than dangerous; it could be deadly. Jeff was already formulating a plan in his head to deal with the contingencies when Sally's voice broke in.

"Base, we have visual on Thunderbird Five now."

Jeff leapt for the communication activation. Christa got up and stuck her head out to the balcony, waving JC inside.

"How does she look, Sal?"

There was a momentary pause. "She's dark, Dad. No power that I can see. We're circling round to see the rest of the station."

There was silence in the lounge as Thunderbird Three made its circuit around the crippled Thunderbird Five. The folks assembled could hear Mae's voice in the background reciting a litany of damage. At last, Sally came back on.

"There are holes in the meteor deflector at several points. The astrodome is trashed, but they missed the starfix sensor system by about a foot." Jeff inhaled sharply; the laser-beam signalling system that helped keep Thunderbird Five in place sat atop a portion of the main monitor room.

Sally continued, "The space scanner was holed right between the antennae, one of them is broken off and floating nearby. The frequency antenna is also snapped, but still attached to the hull. They got the medical bay once and the main monitor room three times, total. There's a hole right through the docking bay as well. Docking with Five just got a whole lot harder."

Brains, who was sitting on Thunderbird Five's couch, sighed deeply. "Th-That'll take weeks of work t-to fix, Mr. Tracy."

"I know, Brains, I know. Our first priority is to find Valentina and repair Thunderbird Three for re-entry and touchdown," Jeff reminded the engineer, who nodded in acquiesence.

"That's the bad news, base. The good news is that Mae thinks the duplicate monitor room was spared. She's pretty sure that the one or two hits on that side of the station holed the bathroom and an airlock. So Val may have had a place to retreat to where there was still oxygen. The solar panels are okay and so is the main monitoring antenna. The oxygen tanks themselves haven't blown, nor have the fuel tanks for Thunderbird Three's rockets. Mae is also certain that the space suit storage bay was untouched and that the cloaking baffles are still intact." Jeff could hear the frown in Sally's voice. "Though if they're still intact, how the hell did someone know where to find the station?"

"D-Does the d-damage seem random to you or, uh, deliberate?" Brains asked, moving up to Jeff's desk to be better heard.

There was a long pause and Jeff could barely hear his two daughters discussing the question. Then Sally's voice returned. "Mae thinks deliberate. There are too many key systems knocked out. Add that to the trajectories of those things that took out nacelle three, and I'd say someone was out to get us."

"Someone with some pretty intimate knowledge of our equipment," JC said softly. She looked at Brains pointedly. Christa flushed red with the implied accusation.

"It's not Brains, JC. There's no one more loyal to International Rescue."

"But no one else has such detailed knowledge..." JC began.

She was interrupted by a soft masculine voice. "You are wrong, JC. I have that same knowledge," Tin-Tin admitted, his face stricken. He swallowed. "I might be your weak link."

"What makes you say that, my son?" Kyrano asked, puzzled.

"These fits I've been having. I've been keeping a journal on them since the neurologist saw me the first time. He said that it would be helpful in diagnosing my problem. I was entering today's incident in my medical journal and I had my diary open at the same time and I noticed something strange. It seemed that every time I had a fit, something bad or odd would happen right after it. Like the time the photo detector was turned off when you and Sally went to rescue those actors, Christa. I had a fit just before that happened. I just sort of shrugged it off and didn't tell anyone. There have been some other items, too, like when Brains and I went to Lake Anasta and that guy with the eyes showed up..." Tin-Tin put his head in his hands. "And now this! Oh God, I could be the one who k..."

"Don't say it, Tin-Tin!" Jeff said sternly, cutting off the Malaysian's thought. "We don't know that Val is dead or alive and I won't have you thinking that way until we do know for sure. Now, straighten up. I need you and Christa to do a very important job."

Tin-Tin looked up at Jeff bleakly while Christa got up from the piano and approached her father.

"It's only a little while until those projectiles, whatever they are, reach and penetrate the atmosphere. I need you two to take Thunderbird Two up to the area where they are due to break through and monitor them. If they burn up in the atmosphere, fine. If not, then take them out with the mini-missiles. All but one. I want to know what these things are if at all possible but I'm not going to ask you to risk holing Two either. Be very, very careful. I'll have the coordinates transferred to you as soon as you're ready. Understood?"

"F-A-B, Father," Christa said stoutly as she made her way over to the picture of the rocket ship that she herself had painted. She stood with her back to it and it flipped her up and into the darkened tunnel on the ride that thrilled her more than any roller coaster in the world.

"Go, my son," Kyrano said quietly, putting a hand on Tin-Tin's shoulder and squeezing gently. "Do what you can to help Christa in her task. We will discuss the other later."

"Yes, Father," Tin-Tin said. He rose to his feet and, unexpectedly, bowed to his sire, then to Jeff, then hurried out before either man could return the gesture.

JC now gazed at her father with an unreadable expression. "Do you have a job for me, too, Father?" she asked in a soft voice, full of both hope and accusation.

Jeff turned to her and nodded. "I just might, Jerrie. It depends on whether or not our little mischief makers burn up in the atmosphere or not. You'd better have Four standing by, ready for emergency launch procedures."

"Yes, sir!" JC replied smartly, a slight smile on her face. She got up from her seat and strode from the room, her step confident and happy.

"Clearing the room, are we, Jeff?" Ruby asked, putting a hand on his arm. "What about the rest of us?"

"I need you here, Ruby, Kyrano, for support... if we have a worst-case scenario. And I need you here, Brains, to give me your ideas on what could have caused this and where it could have launched from," Jeff told the remaining three.

"I-I'll get r-right on it, M-Mr. Tracy," Brains replied. Jeff moved out of the way so that the genius could use his computer.

"We're attempting to dock with Thunderbird Five now, base. We'll keep communications open as best we can while in space suits," Sally told Jeff.

"F-A-B, Thunderbird Three. And, Sal?"

"Yes, Father?"

"Be safe."

Her voice softened. "We will. Firing retros now."

The docking bay was eerily silent as Sally and Mae floated down the ramp towards the hatchway at the lower level. This was partially because they were both encased in their own spacesuits and were saving their oxygen by keeping talk to a minimum. But mostly because the docking bay was as much a vacuum as the space around it. The hole where the projectile had passed through actually pierced the lefthand ramp, so Sally and Mae opted for the right-hand one. Mae carried with her a portable power pack, one that would help them open the doors and hopefully provide lighting and basic computer or scanner functions once they were inside. They both wore worklights on their forearms and on their helmets, sweeping before them as their arms or heads moved. Their faces were bathed in an eerie blue glow from the fluorescent panels that ringed the edges of their faceplates.

Mae popped open the handprint scanner plate with a screwdriver, then hooked up the powerpack to it and pushed a button in a certain rhythmic sequence. The door slid open, and Mae disconnected the power source so it stayed open. They did this for the other airlock door and they found themselves in the corridor between the docking port and the living areas. The bulk of the space scanner's amplification and power systems were situated there, a massive piece of technology now ruined by whatever had been flung at it. They floated past to the second set of airlock doors, where Mae repeated the procedure and then there they were on the lower level, where the living quarters were situated. Sally was a bit disoriented in the darkness, but Mae led her to the left and down the corridor a bit to where the lift stood. To the left of the lift door was a ladder that led upward.

Sally grasped the rungs and pulled herself up easily, pushing open the hatch in the ceiling and propelling herself gently through. Mae followed, the power pack dangling from one shoulder, handing it up to Sally as she came within arms' reach. She joined her older sister on the upper level and Sally took out the one piece of equipment she'd been dreading using up to now: the thermal imager.

Her gloved fingers fumbled with the controls. She swore softly, then tried again. This time it activated, and Sally made a slow sweep of the small, airlocked room they were in. As she turned around and encountered Mae, she could feel it vibrate in her hands, then as she swept it past her sister, it shuddered again. Sally put a hand up to activate her helmet radio.

"She's in the duplicate monitor room."

Mae gave Sally a thumbs up and proceeded to open the two airlock doors between them and Val. It took all of Sally's courage to stoep through, so afraid was she of what she thought she'd find. Mae followed, immediately shining her worklight around the wide room. It caught a glimpse of silver-white and Mae tracked it back to reflect off a space-suited figure, curled up in a ball, floating in the middle of the chamber.

Sally gulped, and propelled herself over to the still body. She couldn't tell if Val was breathing or not through the suit nor could she check for a pulse. The only thing she knew for sure is that her baby sister was warmer than the vacuum around her. Heart in her throat, she reached for Val's arm while Mae came up on the other side to do the same.

They positioned their sister so that they could see into her helmet. The fluorescents had faded considerably and Val's face looked chalk white under what light they put forth. Sally felt tears spring to her eyes and she rested her helmet against Val's with a slight bump.

Blue eyes flew open, startled, and the body uncurled to wrap arms around Sally's neck, helmets scraping together. Mae moved in, her own helmet brushing up against Val's. Tears ran down her cheeks as Val reached out to pull her into her embrace. Neither of the older sisters could hear what Val kept repeating, but they knew what it was all the same.

"You came! Thank God you came!"