I, BRAMAN by GILLYLEE RATED FRT

It seemed a good idea to put Braman in Thunderbird Five over the Christmas holidays.

Thanks, Angelina, for giving me the idea for this story.

PART ONE

Alan swung Thunderbird Three around and expertly made the connection with the space station.

"Hey, kid, you've done this before!" John said.

"As often as you have," Alan said, irritated by his older brother calling him 'kid.' "So, you got to go to earth for Christmas, New Year's and Dad's birthday, and now you get a whole month more."

John shrugged. "I've spent more Christmases in the space station than you, Alan,"he said softly, "because Tin-Tin would be so disappointed if you weren't there."

Alan felt suddenly guilty, remembering what it was like spending those days alone in Thunderbird Five. And reaching out to John, he said, "John, I'm sorry..."

He fell silent, seeing the frowning look on his brother's face.

"What is it?"

"I didn't hear the clamps connect, did you?" John said.

Alan shook his head. "No, I didn't."

Two blonde heads bent down over the instrument panel in front of them.

"Ease back and try again," John suggested.

"FAB."

Alan reversed the manoeuvring motors and slid out of the airlock.

"Say John, how about... hey, Alan, why are you still here?" Scott came in from below.

"Magnetic clamps didn't connect properly," John told him, "We're trying it again. Better hold on to something."

But the second time the clamps failed again. Alan motioned to John to try it once more.

"No," John said, "It's not you, it's the space station that's malfunctioning. Better call Braman."

"Thunderbird Three to Thunderbird Five, come in. Thunderbird Three to Thunderbird Five," Alan spoke into the radio. "Thunderbird Three to Braman."

"Braman to Thunderbird Three, what do you want?"

All three brothers looked at each other with surprise.

"We want to dock with and board Thunderbird Five," Alan said.

"Space is a dangerous environment," said Braman, "Not fit for human beings. I can't allow you to come here."

Bewildered, they just sat in Thunderbird Three.

"It is stressful for humans to be in a dangerous environment," Braman announced. "Music will calm them."

Loud classical music blared out of the speakers.

"Oh my God," John said. "Just what I needed; to be calmed down by a piece of machinery."

"I read a book once,"said Alan.

Scott and John exchanged looks over their brother's head.

"He read a book." Scott smiled.

"Once," said John.

"No, really, guys!" Alan said. "It was about robots, and they hurt people so the experts built in a failsafe so it couldn't happen again, but then they got too protective and people died and then they became crazy."

"Oh, what horror. Being dead," grinned John.

"And crazy,"laughed Scott.

"NO, the robots went crazy,"explained Alan. "The movie was pretty cool too."

"What movie?" asked Scott.

"The movie they made from that book."

"What book?" John asked. Behind Alan's back he winked at Scott.

"That book I just told you about," said Alan.

"And they made a movie out of it?" Scott winked back.

"Yes, at the beginning of this century."

"You were too young to see it, then," said John.

"And so were you!" snapped Alan. "Forget it, will ya?"

"OK! So what do we do now?"asked Scott.

"Get space walking and pull the plug out of it," John said. "We've got to get inside Thunderbird Five."

"Or we go home and leave him to do the job that's too dangerous for us to do,"mused Alan.

"And what if we have to make adjustments?" Scott wanted to know.

"He can do that," said Alan. "Imagine never having to stay here, John."

"I want to be able to make stellar observations," said John, "and earth's atmosphere sucks for that."

"And that music is driving me insane," complained Scott.

"Mozart," answered Alan, surprising both his brothers. "Virgil would love it. Now are we going to do something?"

"OK, kiddo, let's suit up," John said.

"Be careful," Scott said.

They went down and got into their spacesuits. Checking each other, John and Alan discussed their plan of action.

"If you open the airlock doors, I'll get in and hunt that stupid thing down," said Alan.

"You need a weapon," said John.

"John, I can't shoot bullets inside Thunderbird Five," Alan said.

"No, of course you can't," John said, irritated. "Here, take this pipe wrench."

"And hit Braman over the head with it?" Alan asked, "Brains won't like that."

"I don't care. I want that thing out of my space station," said John, "and I never want to see it again. Ready?"

"OK, let's do it."

They went outside and, using their thrusters, floated over to the airlock of the space station. John opened the outer door and when they were both inside the airlock John turned to the manual override of the inner door.

"Let's hope Braman isn't monitoring this airlock," he said. "Somehow I don't think he will allow me to tinker with the doors.

And sure enough, as fast as John tapped in the codes for opening the door, Braman blocked his efforts.

John started cursing. Awed, Scott, in Thunderbird Three, listened as his brother went on and on without repeating himself.

"John?" asked Alan sweetly.

John just went on cursing.

"JOHN!" yelled Alan. "Will you please have some consideration for my tender years?"

"This is so ridiculous," John said.

"Tell me about it," said Alan. "Never thought I'd live to see the day when you and Scott would tell me to destroy something. Say, I rather like this piece of music."

John was still struggling with the controls. "Yeah? Hey, I don't know how or why but Braman is slowing down... come on... almost... There! Ready, Alan?"

"Yes," said Alan, swinging his wrench.

John opened the door and a blast of air rushed out of the interior.

"Alan!" screamed John as his youngest brother shot past him.

"Whoa!" Alan called as he manoeuvred back to the space station.

"What happened?" yelled Scott.

"Alan forgot to hold on to something," John told him. "Nearly blew to Pluto."

"You should have given me a little more time, John," said Alan.

And humming, he floated inside.

Braman stood in the central control room, fortunately with his back to Alan. Alan floated towards him and, grabbing a beam at the ceiling, applied his wrench with enthusiasm. When John reached the control room, he found his brother happily hammering away. Braman was in pieces on the floor.

John shut down the tape recorder.

"Better start checking everything. Who knows what that piece of junk has done?"

"Station secured, mission accomplished!" cheered Alan.

PART TWO

"Scott? You can dock now, but better suit up before you board. We don't know what Braman has done to the station." John called his eldest brother.

"FAB. Can one of you come here and check me?"

"Sending Alan right away."

John turned to his youngest brother. "What do you think?"

"Well, all the airlocks are secure. He hasn't messed with the environmental settings, but I don't know how much oxygen we lost," answered Alan, hitting his helmet with one gloved hand.

"I'll check that. Can you help Scott with his suit?" said John, a small smile around his lips.

"Yeah, I'll go." Alan turned away to leave the central control room.

"Alan?"

"Yes, John?"

John just stood looking at Alan and then hit his own helmet.

Alan frowned, "Why are you hitting your helmet?" he asked.

"I don't know," said John, "but I saw you do it and I wanted to know why you did it."

Bewildered Alan watched his brother and started to hit himself again, "Oh!"

"Yes?" John prompted.

Alan laughed sheepishly. "I think I wanted to scratch my head."

"Ah."

They spent the rest of the morning checking everything out. And after that, John made some lunch, while Scott and Alan collected the bits and pieces that had been Braman.

Scott downed his coffee. "OK, in a week's time, we'll need to replenish the oxygen supply. But for now, everything is ship-shape. See you, Alan. Coming, John?"

John looked at his feet. "You know, Alan, I really wouldn't mind staying here, if you want to go back."

Hastily Alan said, "No John, it's a nice offer, but you left all your things back home. No, no, I'll stay here."

"I've got everything I need here," protested John. "Think how glad Tin-Tin would be."

"John, no, you've made plans, no, I insist, I stay."

Surprised, Scott watched his brothers. "Guys, what is this?"

John guffawed and pointed to the crate Scott was sitting on.

"You're sitting on it."

"It got a bit dented," Alan said in a small voice. "Do you think Brains will notice?"

"It is rather noticeable," said Scott.

"Well, maybe, if he's absorbed in another project." Alan grabbed desperately at straws.

"No, Alan. Brains will want to find out how Braman got through this period,"Scott answered him.

John shook his head. "Now, why do I have the feeling that this isn't what he's expecting?"

"I think I got a bit carried away." Alan hunched down in his chair.

John sighed and stood up. "Come on, Scott, let's bear the brunt of somebody's wrath for our little brother once again."

Alan's face lit up. "Ah, thanks, guys."

He walked them to the airlock and watched his brothers leave for earth.

"Phew, in a month, Brains'll have forgotten it," he thought happily.

The silence in Thunderbird Three was broken only once.

"Remember the last words Braman spoke?" Scott asked.

"His dying words, so to speak?" John was in stitches.

"Music will calm." Scott was shaking with laughter.

"Brother Virgil to the rescue!"

The couch annex elevator delivered John and Scott to the lounge, where Virgil greeted them.

Arching an eyebrow, Virgil said, "You certainly took your time. What happened?"

"Ah, well, we had a nerve-racking morning," Scott told him.

"Not me," howled John, nearly wetting himself. "I'm very calm."

Virgil nodded at the crate. "What's in that crate?"

"Braman," Scott said curtly.

"As in the remains of," sniggered John.

"Virgil, where is everybody?" Scott asked.

Virgil counted on his fingers. "Dad's gone to New York to visit Mr. Dandridge, Brains is in his den, Alan is in the space station, you two are sitting here on the couch, Kyrano and Gordon are doing this month's supply buying, Grandma and Tin-Tin are shopping for a new dishwasher, and I'm your friendly, resident washer of dishes until they get back here with it." He waved a dishcloth.

"Virg, do you have any soothing music?" asked Scott.

"Some light, cheery Mozart?" added John.

"Why yes, but..."

"Can you play something? Loud? So that Brains can hear it?" Scott urged.

"Why yes, but..."

"That would be an enormous help," John said. "You see, we've got to tell Brains something."

"Something bad, something Alan did. We'll tell you later."

Shaking his head in bemusement Virgil put down the dishcloth on the table and went over to the piano.

"Some soothing, light, cheery, loud Mozart!" he said. "This had better be good, guys, I've got dirty dishes from here to Tokyo in the kitchen."

Scott and John carried the crate to Brains' den.

"We've brought Braman back, Brains," Scott said cheerfully.

"He's done good," added John, equally cheerfully.

"Only he's gotten into some, um, disarray."

"Don't know what happened, Brains. Looks like a wrench fell on him."

"I was in Thunderbird Three all the time," Scott said.

"And I was in the airlock," John said.

They opened the crate for Brains to see. Brains closed his eyes and stood there frozen for a moment. Then he took a deep breath.

"Of all the mad, crazy, foolish, dumb, stupid, insane, moronic, mentally defective, backward, imbecilic, brainless, idiotic, feeble-minded, weak-brained, dull, dense, thick-headed, raving, dotty, bungling, half-baked, clumsy, lunatic, miserable, wretched, rotten, ridiculous, dabbling, vile, demented ..."

He fell silent, looking wildly around him and then grabbing something from his workbench. "I'll give you a wrench!"

Scott and John ran.

"What happened to his stammer?" panted John.

"The words I've learned today!" gasped Scott.