TO SAVE THE FUTURE by TB's LMC RATED FRT

International Rescue is the most advanced and capable rescue organization on the planet, performing daring and impossible rescues that others won't even attempt. But even with all the technology and know-how at their disposal, Jeff Tracy is forced to face the most daunting rescue of all. But...how can you rescue your past?

Chapter One

There's something to be said for living in Paradise, Jeff thought as he stretched in front of his open balcony door. Here it was mid-November, and it had to be at least seventy-five degrees outside at seven o'clock in the morning. He tightened the towel around his waist and stood for a few moments in the warm glow of the sun, its rays shimmering off the droplets of water on his skin.

At sixty-two years of age, Jefferson Tracy had only just reached mid-life by 2033 standards. Physically fit, and with a mental acuity rivaling that of each of his five sons, Jeff had made a comfortable, yet intriguing, life for his family after his wife, Lucille, had passed away twenty-nine years earlier.

After recovering from the shock, Jeff saw to it that his boys would want for nothing by starting an aerospace company of his own. Over time that company became two, and then three, and then four. As it stood now, parent company Tracy Corporation encompassed thirty-four subsidiaries, not to mention substantial holdings in more than two dozen other corporations worldwide. Patent ownership on any number of inventions from medicines to heavy machinery also belonged to Tracy Corp, but the rescue activities of the Tracy family remained unknown to the world.

International Rescue had been a dream of his for many years. A philanthropist by nature, Jeff recognized early on that adequate rescue teams and equipment were few and far between on Earth. And rescues in space? They'd barely been conceived of. Every day on the news, it seemed, were stories of mass disasters caused by mudslides or avalanches or earthquakes. And on a smaller scale, three workmen needlessly dying only because there wasn't a way to get into a towering inferno to save them...or a child drowning because even though he'd been trapped in an air bubble when his family's yacht sank, there wasn't a ship nearby that could dive deep enough to rescue him before that air ran out.

The seed had been planted. Over time, as Jeff amassed billions of dollars in profits, the seed germinated, taking root in his mind and stretching toward the heavens as it struggled to reach the light of day. Through careful planning and execution, Jeff made his dream a reality. And even more than that, he kept his sons with him the entire way. The five of them manned International Rescue, and had since its first rescue operation seven years before. From eldest Scott, his field commander, to youngest Alan, astronaut and part-time space monitor, his sons had gone above and beyond his expectations in every way imaginable. Pride was too shallow a word to express how he felt about them all.

As the sun rose slowly over the horizon, a voice broke through his silent reverie.

"Father? You up?"

Jeff's eyes crinkled as he walked to the wall panel intercom near his bed. "Sure am, Scott!"

"Great! Brains has been up all night working on that new phase converter for Thunderbird 1. He'd like to give us all a demonstration."

"The lab?"

"Yes, Sir."

"I'll be there inside ten minutes."

"F.A.B."

Jeff cut the line and turned toward the sliding glass door one last time. Welcome to a new day, he thought as a vision of Lucille appeared in his mind. It's what she'd said to him each morning as they awoke in their bed, usually entwined in each other's arms. He turned toward his dresser and smiled. As he'd done nearly every morning since her death, he whispered, "Welcome to a new day."

"Morning, Dad!"

"Morning, Gordon! I'm assuming there's a mug over there with my name on it."

Gordon grinned as he picked up a large black mug of steaming coffee and held it in the air. "Right here."

"Thanks, son," Jeff replied as he took the offered cup and smiled at the copper-haired man. Fourth in line, Gordon's hair color came from Jeff's own heritage as part Scottish. His skin tone, lightly tanned even when he hadn't seen the sun in months, hearkened back to Lucy's Cherokee blood. At six feet tall, Gordon was the shortest of his brothers, and equal in height to Jeff.

"On your way to the lab?"

"Sure am. You coming?" Jeff asked as they headed out of the kitchen.

"Have to. Brains is so excited. He'd be devastated if we didn't all show. Well, all except Grandma."

"Why all except Grandma?"

"She was up at three a.m. fixing him something to eat. She's gone back to bed."

Jeff chuckled. "Guess that's the only way to keep Brains alive when he gets hooked into a project like this - force him to eat at ungodly hours."

The men continued to chat amiably as they took an elevator situated in the hall just outside the kitchen down to the floor that housed, among other things, Tracy Island's laboratory. Or, as their resident engineer had made clear, his laboratory.

Even after so many years of living on the same island and working very closely together, Brains was still an enigma Jeff couldn't quite figure out. Sometimes he could work straight through for days on end. When his mind got hold of something, it tended to hang on like the jaws of a bear. But on other days, Brains could sleep for hours, rarely eating anything at all, and when he did, pecking at it like a bird.

Jeff couldn't help but smile as he and Gordon entered the lab. The scene was so familiar to him. There was Brains looking pale, drawn and extremely excited, nervously hopping from one foot to the other while John, Scott, Virgil, his mother Ruth, Tin-Tin and Kyrano stood in a semicircle around him. Nearly every one of Brains' smaller inventions was introduced to the family in this exact same way.

"I thought you were in bed, Mother."

"What? And miss all the excitement? Never."

"What's this all about, Brains? You've finished the phase converter?"

"Yes, Sir, M-Mr., uh, Tracy."

"So what's the point of this again?" John asked.

"Well, a-as you all know, I-I've been working on a way to, uh, make Thunderbird 1 more e-efficient. However, my idea of using a phase converter wasn't flying too well if you'll, uh, pardon the pun. Yesterday afternoon, I-I finally figured it out. If this works, a-and I've no doubt it will, it will add years to the life of 1's a-atomic pile."

""How can you demonstrate something in here that is going to fit into Thunderbird 1?"

"Y-You see, Mrs. Tracy, I have the converter a-attached to this configuration of wires which in turn is connected to the, uh, computer." Ruth nodded. "The energy output of the converter will register on this monitor here," he continued, pointing at the nearest screen, "a-and you'll be able to visually identify the efficiencies to be gained by, uh, what happens when the energy created by an e-external source, in this case the generator I have hooked up over here, is phased through the, uh, device."

"You're making my brain hurt," was her only reply.

The family chuckled as Jeff stepped forward. "Okay, Brains. Show us what she's got."

The engineer turned on the generator, then pressed a button on the phase converter, which measured about four feet by four feet square. It hummed to life, and Brains pressed another button next to the first. "A-All right. Here we go."

Having left his reading glasses in his room, Jeff moved closer so as better to view the results on the computer screen. He was amazed by the output coming from a two hundred horsepower generator. "That's measuring at least 450 hp."

"Yes, uh, Mr. Tracy. I-It's capable of increasing the power output by nearly fifty-five percent, but using the same amount of generative e-energy a-as before."

Jeff leaned over the shiny silver converter box and noticed a small screen on top. Green numbers lined the five-inch black screen, and the numbers were constantly changing. Curious as to its use, Jeff reached his hand out, his forefinger touching it lightly. "What's thi?"

Static electricity poured into his hand, up his arm, across his chest, spreading throughout his body. He was vaguely aware of someone yelling, someone he thought he should know...one of his sons, maybe. His body stiffened and the others watched as visible waves began emanating from the converter like rippling water, bluish in color and silently approaching.

"Drop!" Brains cried, and everyone fell to the floor. Scott reached out and tried to grab his father's ankles, but electrical charges, like tiny bolts of lightning, zapped his hands and he cried out in pain.

Jeff's face was blank, his mind spinning in hundreds...no, thousands...of directions. He was seeing events from his past: his youth, his Air Force years, his time as an astronaut. Then he began to see things he didn't remember witnessing, rescues he couldn't possibly have seen sitting back on Base, but which were so real it was like he was hovering at each scene, watching them unfold.

The waves continued from the converter, and honed in on the nearest source of heat they could find: Jeff Tracy's body. They enveloped him, and in the split second Brains looked up, he thought it almost looked like an aura surrounding his employer. Gordon, John and Scott struggled to get to their feet, but the waves kept them pinned to the floor.

And just like that, it was over.

Just like that, Jefferson Tracy was gone.

Chapter Two

He was cold.

Jeff shivered as he waited for his head to stop throbbing long enough for him to feel like opening his eyes wasn‘t such an impossible task. He felt water splash into his mouth and nose, and began coughing and sneezing to expel the unwanted intruder.

What the hell?

Raising his arm to shield his face, Jeff struggled to a sitting position. The stench of age-old ruin and neglect reached his nostrils. At last he opened his eyes. It was raining. Sheets and sheets of it stung his hands and face. Soaked through, Jeff shivered again. As he scanned his surroundings, he realized he could barely see a foot in front of his face.

He rose to his feet and swayed for a moment as a wave of dizziness and nausea swept over him. His stomach churned and within seconds he knew he was going to lose what little contents it had. He heaved over and over again, in a torturous cycle he thought would never end.

His head continued to pound as the retching subsided. There was a wall nearby and he leaned heavily upon it, supporting himself with his hand. Then his stomach and esophagus seized again, dry heaves wracking his body as tears escaped his eyes. The rain continued to pound into his back. He took a few deep breaths, willing the nausea away. He knew he had to find shelter, but he didn't even know where he was.

I was in the lab, he thought, standing upright and trying desperately to see through the murky darkness. "Brains?" he called out, turning in a full circle. "Scott?"

But there was no answer. Jeff took a few steps forward but found his way blocked by what felt like steel girders and, plainly put, rubble. Frowning, he climbed over the slippery smooth, yet twisted surfaces until he came to an opening the looked like it led beyond whatever ruins these were.

Just as he reached the edge of the opening, lightning streaked through the sky like a bony hand pointing right at him. What he saw in the brief light it provided took his breath away. He was on Tracy Island, all right. But it wasn't any Tracy Island he knew.

Panic threatening, Jeff forced himself to remain calm as bolt after bolt of lightning lit the surrounding area enough for him to realize that everything was gone. Where once a mansion had been tucked into the side of the mountain, there was now only the most vague suspicion that a structure had ever existed. Turning to look behind him, he realized he had indeed awakened in the lab. But it was destroyed. Gone.

Rubble. That's just what it was.

Thunder cracked above him like a schoolyard bully taunting, as though the heavens knew what the hell was going on and teased him because he didn't. "Virgil!" he cried, scrambling down the hill to the sand below. "Gordon!"

The only response was the wind picking up, lashing his face and body with thousands of raindrops that felt like tiny knives piercing his flesh. He ran the length of the beach, and when next the lightning came, saw that the roundhouse was no more.

He started letting the panic have its way.

Running back along the ocean's edge, he came to where the pool should have been, where Thunderbird 1's launch pad had once been hidden. But it was hidden no more. He peered into the gaping chasm created by the pool's absence. Lightning flashed, and he saw a sight more horrifying than he ever could have imagined.

The launch pad was in a shambles. It looked like a mega bomb had torn it all to shreds. "No!" he cried out. Rising to his feet, he ran to the ocean again. Cupping his hands around his mouth he yelled, "Scott! Virgil! Where are you?"

Jeff turned his back to the water and stared at the once-beautiful paradise, home to his family and secret base of International Rescue. When the last bolt of lightning came, he could do nothing but sink to his knees in shock. "My God," he breathed.

"What happened? Where's Dad?"

"I-I don't know, Scott."

"Goddammit, Brains, where the fuck is he?" John yelled over the din.

The lab was in chaos. The converter had exploded, sending bits of metal and internal mechanics flying throughout, shattering test tubes and beakers as everyone covered their heads. Scott was the first one to his feet, racing for the extinguisher and putting out the resulting fire before it spread. Virgil comforted his grandmother while Kyrano held Tin-Tin protectively in his arms. Gordon and John brushed shrapnel from one another's clothing as everyone just stared around the room in shock and confusion.

Scott threw the extinguisher to the floor and grabbed Brains' upper arms, swiveling the lanky man around to face him. "Where did Dad go? Come on, Brains!"

"I-I don't know what happened, Scott! I don't!"

"Dad!" Gordon called out, running into the lab's second room. "Dad, where are you?"

"Dad!" Virgil said as he headed for the hall. "You out here?"

"He can't have just disappeared!" Ruth cried as she approached Tin-Tin and Kyrano. "He can't."

Scott dropped to his hands and knees in the very spot he'd last seen his father standing. He searched for clues to what had happened to Jeff, but there was nothing. No footprints, no ash...no nothing. Fear began to clutch at his heart. It was something he was used to dealing with in conjunction with adrenaline on a rescue, but not something he was used to dealing with where his own father was concerned.

And so he did the only thing he knew to do. He switched instantly to his role as field commander and began barking orders.

"Kyrano, you and Tin-Tin search the roundhouse. Gordon and John, you've got the hangars. Brains, Grandma, the house. Virg, you and I will search the island. Gordo, contact Alan. Tell him what happened, and have him tune the antennae to pick up Dad's voice."

A chorus of "F.A.B." rang out. This was exactly what they needed: someone to take charge, to make them forget their fear and shock and put them to work. They needed Scott to lead them, as Scott always did. And, true to form, Jeff's eldest hadn't let them down.

As he and Virgil took the elevator that would deposit them onto the island's runway, Virgil kept stealing glances at his older brother. Scott's rock-hard face made his state of mind unfathomable. He stared straight ahead, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. "What happened to him, Scott?"

"I don't know," was his clipped reply.

As the brothers jogged across the tarmac, Virgil began calling out to his father while Scott's eagle eyes scoured the beach and surrounding area.

He has to be here somewhere, Scott thought. Dad, where are you? Where the hell are you?

Jeff sought shelter in the one last structure partially standing that he could actually get to. Half the boathouse was still intact, and as he leaned against the wall, he began to shiver uncontrollably. It had never been this cold on the island before. What had happened? How had it happened? The last thing he could remember was leaning over the phase converter, looking at a readout of numbers. He'd opened his mouth to ask Brains what they were for, what they meant. After that it was all a blur, like a dream you knew for certain you'd had, but couldn't remember to save your life.

Where were his sons? Where were Kyrano, Tin-Tin and Brains? Where was his mother? Why was everything destroyed? How had it happened?

That's when Jeff remembered his communicator. Raising it to his face, he said, "This is Jeff Tracy calling anyone who can hear me. Thunderbird 5, are you receiving me?" There was no reply. "Alan? John? Scott? Anybody, come in. Come in!"

But the watch face didn't even light up. No image appeared. Not Alan's face. Not Scott's. Not John's. Not anyone's. "Mother?" Jeff let his arm fall to his side and leaned his head back, sliding slowly down the wall. "What's going on?" he whispered as he sank to the floor. "What the hell is going on?"

"Sir, we've picked up a low-level transmission on an old frequency."

"So? What of it?"

A tall, thin Arabic man cast an uncomfortable glance at his companion, a slightly shorter and stockier man of Asian descent. "Well, Sir, it, uh...it's on that old frequency International Rescue used to use."

A six-foot-one man with a bald head and bushy black eyebrows turned to face his two communications specialists. "International Rescue?"

"Yes, Sir," the stocky man nodded.

"Let me hear it."

The tall man reached over to a console and flipped a switch.

"...is Jeff Tracy calling Thunderbird 5. I repeat, Jeff Tracy to Thunderbird 5. Come in!"

The bald man's jaw dropped slightly as a deep frown creased his forehead. "It can't be."

"I thought..." the tall man‘s voice trailed off into the ether.

"Verify voice pattern immediately!" their leader barked.

The stocky man twisted some dials and tapped several commands into a keyboard. When he turned back to face the bald man, he didn't have to say a word. The look on his face said it all.

"How can this be, my enemy?" the bald man said softly. Jeff's voice continued ringing through the cavernous central room of a grand stone temple situated deep within the jungles of Malaysia. The bald man turned to face the comm again. "Where is the signal coming from?"

The tall one ran a trace and his shoulders stiffened as the results fed back through the computer. He looked right into the eyes of his leader and replied, "Tracy Island, Sir."

"That place is quarantined! How did anyone get through?" The stocky man shrugged. He was at a loss to explain it. "Send the warriors, immediately!" the bald man yelled as he headed for his room. "And have Chien ready my helijet for immediate departure!"

"Yes, Sir!" the men saluted as they set about their tasks.

The bald-headed man strode into his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. He began pacing the length of the room, hands behind his back, muttering to himself as he fought to comprehend what he'd just heard.

Jefferson Tracy. A name he'd not heard in more years than he could remember...another lifetime ago, it seemed. How could he be hearing his voice now? There had to be a rational explanation. A long-forgotten recording, perhaps, triggered by an unknown person who had found it somewhere. A trick by one of the rebellious factions he had yet to destroy, meant to confuse him.

Or perhaps a trick not by a rebellious faction, but by a former loyalist to the Tracy family. He strode out of his room and descended a long staircase which led deep into the earth, into the dark and eerie dungeons below the temple. He walked several feet before stopping in front of a door. Grabbing a ring of keys from his belt, he chose one, unlocked the door and entered the room.

A thin figure was crumpled in a heap in the room's far corner. He strode across, reached down, and wrapped his large hand around the man's neck, pulling him to his feet. "How did you do it?" he spat. Large blue eyes, eyes that had lost their sparkle and seemed to show no evidence of a soul behind them, blinked awake. The bald man shook his prisoner. "How?" he bellowed.

But the man couldn't even focus on the one who'd held him captive for so long. Growling in disgust, he released his grip and skeletal figure fell back down to the floor. "No matter. I shall get to the bottom of this one way or the other," he spat as he headed for the door. "And if I find out you had anything to do with it, you will pay dearly."

The man trotted up the stairs and through several winding hallways before emerging out a back exit. He watched as his private helijet landed on the tarmac. His trusted aide, Chien, stepped out of the aircraft and held the door open for his commander. The bald man raced across the lawn and hopped up into his seat, Chien following close behind.

The pilot turned to look at him. "Where to?"

The bald man sneered as he replied, "Tracy Island. And make it double-time."

The helijet rose into the air as the surprised pilot replied, "Sure thing, Mr. Gaat."

Chapter Three

Jeff awoke with a start. When had he fallen asleep? Then he realized what had awakened him. Voices. He heard voices! Leaping to his feet, he ran from the destroyed boathouse out onto the beach. The sky had cleared, and the moon shone brightly, illuminating what was left of his island.

"Hello!" he called out. "Hello! Over here!"

He heard some rustling in the plants behind him that looked like they'd been growing unchecked for over a decade. Turning, he peered into the night, trying to see who it was. "Scott?" he called out. "Is that you?"

Without warning, four people appeared around him, two dropping from the partial boathouse roof to stand in front of him, a third coming in on the right, the fourth on his left. Their clothes were ragged and looked like they hadn't seen the laundry for weeks. Three of them were men, one was a woman.

"Who are you and what are you doing on my island?"

"Your island?" the man to his right sneered in an Australian accent. "Who died and made you king o' the hill, mate?"

"Who are you?" one of the men in front of him asked as he stepped forward. "How did you get here?"

"What are you talking about? I belong here!"

"Are you one of His Excellency's goons?" the woman asked in a clipped British accent, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

Jeff turned toward her. "His Excellency?" he asked, thoroughly confused.

"Oh, my God," she breathed as she smoothed a stray lock of red-blonde hair back from her face.

"What is it, Dana?" the apparent leader asked, eyeing the intruder suspiciously.

She approached Jeff and reached a shaking hand out to touch his face as Jeff jerked away. "It can't be."

"Can't be what?" the Australian asked in exasperation. "What are you on about?"

"Don't you recognize him?" Dana squeaked.

"No. I don't. All I know is he's bloody well invaded our island."

"This is not your island!" Jeff yelled as he whirled on the man. "I'll ask you one more time, who are you?"

"Who is he, Dana?"

"James, don't you know? Don't you remember?"

The man called James took another step forward and peered into Jeff's face. He gasped as recognition dawned. "Holy shit. It can't be. "

"Who are you?" Dana whispered.

"I'm Jeff Tracy. Who are you?"

"Bloody hell," the Australian man said as he and the so-far silent fourth man approached him.

Jeff stared at each of them in turn. "Why are you looking at me like you've seen a ghost?"

"Because we have seen a ghost," Dana replied, her eyes big as saucers. "You died. Fifteen years ago. Right here on this very island."

Jeff backed away, shaking his head, unable to comprehend what she was saying. "You're crazy. I'm not dead. Where are my sons? What happened to my island?"

James and the Aussie exchanged looks. It was James who spoke. "They're all gone," he said. "If you're really Jefferson Tracy, you'd know that."

"Gone? What do you mean, gone?"

"Dead," Dana whispered as the first rays of sunlight began peeking over the horizon. "They're all dead."

Air whooshed out of Jeff's lungs. He felt like he'd been sucker-punched right in the gut. The silent fourth man caught him before he fell, and propped him upright as Jeff reeled from the unseen blow. "What" he gasped, "What are you talking about?"

"Mr. Tracy," James said, his face showing sympathy for the older man before him. "Don't you remember? It's all gone. International Rescue, your family, everything. The world's gone to hell."

Jeff shook his head as darkness crept around his vision. "You're lying," he whispered, looking straight at him. "Why are you saying this? I was just with them!"

The foursome looked at one another. Dana approached him and took his hand. "No, Mr. Tracy. You couldn't have just been with them. In fact, it‘s not even possible that you‘re standing here in front of us."

Hunger, exhaustion and complete confusion made Jeff sag against the fourth man, who still held him tightly by the arms. "What are youit can'tI don't" Next, he knew only darkness.

"The king's been lying to us all these years," James said as he hoisted Jeff's limp form into a fireman's carry. "He never killed him."

"Let's get him down to the bunker," the Australian man said. "I just can't believe it's him."

"It's him all right," Dana said as she motioned to the fourth man. "Come on, Jared, we're going under." The man began to follow them as Dana continued. "I remember when that bastard first outed International Rescue. My mother was in shock. She was part of the design team who built the rocket that took Mr. Tracy to the moon years before he started the corporation. She always kept a photo that had been taken of that team with the astronauts hanging on the wall in her office at home."

"Is that how you recognized him?" the Australian man asked.

Dana nodded as they climbed up to where the roundhouse had once stood and began descending into the silo that had housed Thunderbird 3. The thin metal ladder that lined the wall made for slow going where James was concerned as he balanced Jeff on his shoulders. "If the king's been lying to us about killing Tracy all these years," he grunted as he made his way down into the darkness, "what else has he been lying about?"

"I wish my mother was still alive," Dana said as they reached the halfway point. "She'd never believe her eyes."

"I don't believe my eyes, and I looked right at him," the Aussie replied from just below her. "I feel like we walked into the bloody Twilight Zone."

"I wonder how he got here," she mused as they continued their climb downwards. "And how is it we've never run across him before?"

"Maybe he can tell us," James grunted, "when he comes to."

They were silent the rest of the way to the silo floor. Moving along the old monorail track, they emerged into a large room that had once been used for storage, but which they had converted into living quarters.

James laid Jeff on his own bed as the others stood by. "Well, he didn't just appear out of nowhere," he said, rising to his feet. "There might be others nearby. Zo, Jared, get back out there and keep your eyes peeled for any more uninvited guests." The men nodded and picked up two knapsacks from their respective sleeping areas. "Dana, stay here and keep an eye on him. I'm going topside with them."

"Okay. Be careful."

James leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. "Don't you worry about me. Just keep this handy," he said, offering her a handgun. She nodded and watched as he disappeared into the monorail tunnel.

She walked over to where Jeff lay unconscious on the pile of leaves covered by a thin sheet that was her lover's bed, and sat down next it on the floor. "Jefferson Tracy," she whispered as she watched the rise and fall of his chest. "I don‘t believe it. You‘re alive. After all these years. You‘re alive."

Two hours later, Tracy Island's residents gathered in the Lounge, all reporting the same thing: not one of them had seen hide nor hair of Jeff. From Thunderbird 5, Alan's equally grim news was that the space station's powerful antennae had yet to hear his father's voice. Frustration mounted as Scott strode to Jeff's desk. He hesitated for only a moment before settling into the chair behind it.

"Talk to me, Brains."

"I-I've been thinking about it while we were searching for Mr. Tracy," Brains began as he walked over to stand in front of the desk. "Best I can figure is those waves that, uh, emanated from the converter, the ones that kept us on the floor, a-are the key. I-I need to do some more research though, uh, Scott. I need to reconstruct the converter for one thing, a-and then see if I can‘t, uh, recreate the waves we saw."

Scott nodded. "Then get to it. Tin-Tin, you worked with him on this phase converter. Help him."

"Yes, Scott," she replied as she followed the engineer out of the room.

"What can we do?" Gordon asked forlornly as the rest of them gathered ‘round the desk.

Scott looked at each of their faces in turn, including Alan's from his vid portrait on the wall. He turned sideways to face the wall, forefinger tapping slowly on the stately wooden desk. Finally, he swiveled back to face them.

"John, that research you were doing on astral bodies." Frowning, the flaxen-haired man nodded. "How far did you get on it?"

"Well, I'd gotten to the point where I figured out the mechanics of a scanner I wanted to build, to see if I could pick up the resonance that's theoretically left behind when a person moves from one place to another. But why are you asking? All you ever did was scoff at my research."

Scott's eyes held his younger brother's. Embedded in that look was a silent apology. "I know, John. How long does this resonance stay behind? Theoretically."

The right side of John's mouth curved into a half-smile. "Theoretically? Eight hours."

"Eight hours. How fast can you build your scanner?"

"I get it!" Alan cried from the wall. "You figure if John can get it to work, it might tell us where Dad's been!"

"I don't know, Scott," John said. "It's purely theory at this point."

"Then make it more than a theory," Scott replied in the most commanding voice he could muster. He was determined not to let his worry and uncertainty be known to his family.

"All right. I'll give it a try. I'll be in the lab."

Scott nodded. "Help him out, Virg. You're good at mechanics."

Virgil nodded and followed John from the Lounge as Scott turned to Gordon. He knew that each of them needed something to do or they'd go mad waiting for the others to come up with something. "Okay, Gordon, I want you to do a search for me."

"Of what?"

"The web. Cross-reference key words from what's going on here...I don't know, maybe ‘phase converter' with ‘disappear', things like that. See if you can't find something on the subject."

"F.A.B.," Gordon replied, heading for the den that was just down the hall from the Lounge.

"What about me, Scott?"

"You keep doing what you're doing, Al. You listen for Father's voice. I need all your attention on that chatter up there. If he calls out, we're counting on you to hear him."

"F.A.B. Thunderbird 5 out."

"What can we do?" Ruth asked as she came to stand next to Kyrano.

"I don't know, Grandma."

She saw something in Scott's eyes, something that unnerved her. Walking up to him, she laid her small, wrinkled hand over his large, smooth one. "We'll find him, Scott. We're International Rescue, after all. Wherever he is, we'll find him."

Chapter Four

"Shit, we've got an aircraft approaching, Jared. Stay here and keep your eye on it, mate. I've got to find James."

Jared nodded silently and took the spyglass from his friend. Placing the smaller end against his eye, he focused on the object nearly ten miles away. It was an olive green helijet. His heart began to pound as he watched Zo descend the mountain.

"James!" Zo cried. "James, where are you?" Soon he saw James running along the beach full-speed. "James, quickly!" When his friend skidded to a halt in the sand next to him, Zo pointed up into the sky.

Squinting his eyes, James tried to get a good look at what was only a dot on the horizon to the naked eye. "Did you use the spyglass?"

"Yeah. Standard warrior issue. Army color."

"I'll bet they followed Tracy, however he got here. Dammit! Where's Jared?"

"Top of the mountain."

"Get him, but quick. We've got to get back to the bunker."

Zo nodded and sped to the base of the mountain, calling Jared's name as he went. James headed for the silo, and began to climb down the ladder. The helijet was drawing nearer. He could already hear the distant whine of its engines. "Shit!" he cursed. "Shit, shit, shit!"

Chien placed the headphones next to one ear and listened intently before turning to his boss. "Comm reports no further communications on the old IR frequency."

Belah set his jaw in determination. Through the cockpit windows he could see the jagged rock of what used to be Tracy Island ahead. "I would know that voice anywhere," he said quietly.

"But how can he be alive? You said you'd killed him."

"I did!" Belah snapped. What dark magick has brought you to me now, Jefferson Tracy? Or perhaps...what white magick?

"Orders, Sir?" the pilot asked when they were less than two miles out.

"Circle over it. If you see any signs of life, open fire."

"Yes, Sir."

"My old friend," Belah whispered. "Are you really there?"

James was nearly halfway down the silo. He opened his mouth to call out to Dana, but was interrupted by the sound of automatic weapons firing aboveground. "Oh, God. Jared. Zo."

That's when he heard them scream.

"No!" he cried. Sparing but one look downward, he fought between continuing his descent so at the very least he could warn Dana, and heading back up to the surface to help his oldest and dearest friends. In the end, he knew he couldn't leave Jared and Zo up there to die without trying to help them. With any luck, he thought as he propelled himself back up the ladder, they'll appear above me now. He continued climbing, and continued hearing the weapons fire.

He looked up. Now.

No. They still weren't there.

"Come on, Zo. Come on."

Now.

Not a sign of them.

At last he reached the top of the silo. He could hear the helijet, but it was on the other side of the mountain, completely out of his range of vision. Then he noticed movement. About eight feet from the base of the mountain, Jared was half-carrying, half-dragging Zo down, stumbling and nearly falling three times before they hit the sand on hands and knees.

James sprang into action, running full bore toward his friends. Jared looked up, saw him, and smiled. James was coming. They'd soon be safe.

Dana heard a strange echo coming from the monorail tunnel. Glancing at her still-sleeping charge, she rose to her feet, palmed the gun James had given her and headed for the tunnel entrance. "James?" she called out. "Zo? Jared?" She heard nothing but echoes of her own voice in response. Looking back at Jeff once more, she decided to investigate further, and left him behind.

When she reached the bottom of the silo, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the sunlight pouring in from above. Blinking, she realized there was a shadow above her. "James?" Receiving no response, she was horrified when the sound of weapons firing wafted down to her. "Oh, God! James!"

Tucking the gun between her back and the waistband of her ragged jeans, Dana raced up the ladder, climbing it faster than she ever had before. "James!" she kept calling, over and over again. "Oh, why don't you answer, goddammit? James!" She neared the halfway point in record time and passed it, hand over hand...foot over foot. The helijet's engines were a sound she recognized immediately as she drew closer to the surface.

Please let them be okay. God, please.

At last she neared the top of the silo. Cautiously she reached behind and grabbed the gun, then moved up one rung to peek over the side. Halfway between her and the base of the mountain were Jared and James pulling an unconscious Zo up between them.

"James!"

His head whipped up, a look of fear crossing his face as the helijet swooped in from above. "No! Dana, get back! Get back down!"

"No!" she cried, vaulting up onto the rock and scrambling down the small hill. "James!"

"Fuck, Dana, get back! Now!"

They ran as fast as they could. She was almost upon them. Suddenly they heard a sound that chilled them to the bone. Dana looked up in horror as the helijet fired a small missile. "Incoming!" she screamed.

But it was too late. The missile raced toward them and for a moment that seemed to last an eternity, James' eyes met hers. She stumbled backwards as the missile hit, as it slammed right into Jared's back. Dana screamed as the force of the blast threw her back into the small rock hill. Sand rained down on her like sharp little pieces of glass as she struggled to catch her breath. Dazed, she could hear the helijet moving away as she pushed herself up into a sitting position.

"No!" she cried when she took in the carnage before her. There was very little left of James, Zo and Jared. And what was there was barely recognizable as human. "No!" Dana wailed, tears streaming down her face. "God! No!"

She turned toward the sound of the helijet approaching from behind her. I don't want to live, James, she thought, struggling to her feet. Not alone. Not without you.

But then as she looked toward the silo, she remembered that she wasn't alone. "Jeff Tracy," she breathed as the helijet came nearer. She looked back once more at the blood and bits of flesh and bone that littered the beach, letting out a choked sob. She could've sworn she could hear her lover's voice whispering in her ear.

You have to protect him, Dana. He may be our only hope.

Dana made her decision. Picking her gun up from the ground, she climbed the hill and went over the edge onto the ladder. She descended almost as quickly as she had come up, slowing only once or twice to wipe the tear tracks from her face. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she shoved the sight she'd just seen away. There would be time for grief later. Now, she had to get back to Mr. Tracy.

Goodbye, James.

"Scott! I may have found something!" Gordon said as he jogged into the Lounge. Scott looked up from his dad's computer as Gordon ran to his side.

"What is it?"

"Look here, I just printed this article from the London Chronicle's site," he said excitedly, shoving the paper into Scott's hands. "Read it."

Scott focused on the print and noticed the article was dated nearly a year earlier. He began to read aloud. "There is still no news on Chief Science Officer Dudley Barnes' strange disappearance from the former United States Naval Base in Ruislip. Barnes was a high-ranking official in the World Navy, but he's best known for his scientific research into creating high-output phase converters in the Navy's continued efforts to lower the use of atomic energy for their vast fleet of ships." Scott's eyes widened as he looked up at his brother.

"Keep reading," Gordon prompted.

"CSO Barnes disappeared last Friday, but the World Navy kept it a secret until the London Chronicle gained an exclusive interview with a naval insider. According to this source, Barnes was working on construction of his newest phase converter, a machine that could theoretically increase energy output by nearly thirty percent. The last anyone saw of him was when our source spoke with him in his laboratory two hours before he was discovered missing. The World Navy refused official comment, and Barnes' family could not be reached."

Scott let the printout fall to the desk as his eyes met Gordon's. "Is CSO Barnes' wife still alive?" he asked.

"No," Gordon shook his head. "She died seven months after he disappeared."

"Children?"

"Haven‘t located them yet."

"Damn." Scott looked down at the article again. "Brains' converter had an output over twenty percent greater than this one," he mused.

"I'm going to keep looking. Maybe I can dig something else up," Gordon said as he headed for the den.

"Thanks, Gordo." Scott sighed and leaned back in his father's chair, elbows on the arms, hands steepled in front of his face. Forcing the fear that kept nagging at him away, his mind raced. "He was working on a phase converter, and he disappeared," he whispered. "Where did you go, Barnes? And where's my father?"

Chapter Five

Oh, God. Where am I?

Jeff squeezed his eyes closed against a headache that wouldn't quit as slowly he rose from unconsciousness to a world that seemed vaguely familiar, but resembled none he had ever known. He rolled to the side, and the bed crackled beneath him. Frowning, he opened his eyes and laid his hand palm-flat on the mattress. He pressed down once. It crackled again.

What is this?

He looked up and saw a large room. He recognized a faded letter C on the wall and knew exactly where he was.

Storage Room C.

But instead of being filled with crates of metal and parts for repairs on the various mechanical items throughout Tracy Island, the room was filled with makeshift beds, clothing, canned food and various other nondescript shapes. The only light came from a candle nearby, casting long shadows everywhere he looked.

What the hell?

"Mr. Tracy!"

Jeff shot to his feet, eyes wide. Who was that? Whose voice was it?

"Mr. Tracy! Hurry!"

A woman with reddish blonde hair ran into the room and began throwing things into a backpack. "Thank God you're awake. We have to go!" When he didn't move, she added, "Now!"

Jeff stood in shock as everything came flooding back to him.

You died. Fifteen years ago. Right here on this very island.

Where are my sons?

Dead. They're all dead.

It's all gone. International Rescue, your family, everything. The world's gone to hell.

"No," Jeff whispered, sinking back onto the bed beneath him. "No."

"What are you doing?" Dana cried. "Get up, get up!" She stuck her arms through the backpack straps and heaved it onto her back, then reached down and pulled at his hands. A flashlight strapped to her arm danced over the gray walls.

"They can't be gone. They just can't be."

"Mr. Tracy, do you remember me?"

British. She had a British accent. He looked up.

"I'm Dana. We found you out on the beach earlier this morning. Do you remember?"

He nodded.

"Listen to me. We're in great danger. We must leave now. There's only one chance for escape."

"Escape from what?"

"Not what, Mr. Tracy. Who. Now come on! I don't have time to argue!" With that, she hauled him to his feet. "Here, take these."

He palmed the flashlight she offered and allowed her to strap a second backpack to him. "Where am I?" he asked as she finished.

"You know where you are. I'll answer all your questions later."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"Do you want to live?"

Do I want to live?

He nodded.

"Then come with me," she said, holding out her hand.

He shone his light to the side of her face. Her hazel eyes were full of fear, but he sensed no mal intent. Nodding his head once, he grabbed her hand. She was off like a shot, running as fast as her legs could carry her. He easily kept up as they headed for the monorail tunnel on the other side of the room.

"Where are we going?" he huffed.

"The sub! It's our only way out of here!"

They ran for what seemed like miles. And it really was. Jeff knew these tunnels like the back of his hand. Sweat poured from his forehead as they neared the end of the last tunnel.

"There's no way out over here."

"Oh...we...made sure...there was," she panted, moving to the wall. Dropping to one knee, Dana banged her fist on the floor and to Jeff's surprise, a corner of the concrete popped up. He helped her lift it away, and watched as she dropped into a small tunnel dug in the sandy dirt below. "Quickly!" she called up to him.

What's happening? What's going on? Why are we running? Who are we running from?

The ground became wet as he slid down the tunnel on his back, feet-first. The backpack hindered his progress, but the tunnel's gentle slope aided his movement.

"Where are your friends?"

"They're dead," came her flat reply.

Who killed them?

The small tunnel evened out, and within minutes Jeff's feet reached the edge of it. He felt Dana's hands on his legs as she guided him down the four-foot drop. The brilliant sunlight blinded him, but she grabbed his hand and pulled him along.

When at last he was able to see, he recognized they were on the opposite side of the island from the house. Well, from where the house had once been. But there was nothing like a sub anywhere in sight.

The sound of a helijet's engines came to their ears.

"Quickly, we must get underwater."

"Underwater?" Jeff repeated, trying to locate the aircraft.

"Yes. We had to leave it down there. It's too bright to be left on the surface. Anyone could see it."

"Too bright? What color is it?"

Dana stopped at the water's edge and turned to face him. "Yellow."

Yellow. Yellow. Could it be?

She nodded as if in answer to his thoughts. "It's Thunderbird 4. It was the only one not destroyed." She waded into the water, and he followed. Soon she was up to her belly, then her chest, then her neck. "Stay close," she said, before taking a deep breath and going under.

Jeff did the same and followed her beneath the waves. Further and further they swam. His lungs began to ache. He watched her head for the surface and joined her. "How...much further?"

"Only another ten feet."

He nodded, took a deep breath, and dove.

When he laid eyes on the small submarine, he thought it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. The one thing that still looked the same as it had before this...whatever this was...had happened. They swam to the airlock and she motioned for him to open it. He did, and they entered. Within seconds the airlock emptied and oxygen pumped into the small space.

"I don't understand what's going on."

"First we must get out of here. I never piloted this thing. James," her voice cracked, but she quickly recovered, "James was the only one who was ever able to figure it out."

"I can pilot her."

Dana nodded. "I figured you could. Let's get at it then, shall we? We need to put as much distance between us and this island as we can."

They entered the cockpit. Jeff took the pilot's chair and strapped himself in. Makeshift jump seats had been added to the back and sides of the cabin, and Dana strapped herself into one of them.

Jeff placed his hands on the control panel.

Gordon should be here.

Dead. They're all dead.

Eyes burning, Jeff throttled the sub into action and it rose from the bottom of the ocean. He switched her into forward and they were soon on their way.

"Run your scans again!"

The pilot nodded, but moments later gave the same reply as the previous three times. "I'm sorry, Mr. Gaat. I don't see any life signs."

Chien looked sidelong at his boss. "We must have killed them all with that one missile."

"Land," Belah ordered, grinding his teeth. "I wish to see for myself."

"Yes, Sir."

Belah looked out over the churning waters of the Pacific. Deep down, he was troubled. First hearing Jefferson Tracy's voice, and now finding inhabitants on Tracy Island? Something was afoot. Whatever it was, he didn't like it.

"How's it going, Brains?"

"Uh, well, Scott. I-It's going well. Uh, Tin-Tin, hand me that solder iron there, would you? Ah, thank you. We've got the, uh, casing together, but the rest of this is going to be, uh, slow going, Scott."

Scott nodded and headed over to where Virgil and John were deep in discussion. "Any progress?"

"Not much so far, Scott," John replied. "We think we've got most of the wiring figured out. Theoretically."

"Then what's the holdup?"

"This," Virgil said, holding out his hand. Scott took a charred lump of melted metal from it and looked quizzically at his brothers. "It was the only .5 meta-inducer we had left."

"It got burned when the phase converter blew."

"You can't build your gadget without this?"

They shook their heads as Virgil replied, "There is one on Moyla."

"Fine. John, get over there and get the damn thing, and hurry it up."

"F.A.B."

Scott turned on heel to leave the lab. Virgil caught up with him in the hall.

"You okay?"

"Fine."

"Yeah, right."

"Not now, Virgil."

Virgil opened his mouth to say something, but was stopped by Gordon running up to them. "I found something else!" he crowed, waving several sheets of paper in front of them.

"What is it?" Scott asked, grabbing them.

"CSO Barnes again." The three walked rapidly through the hall as Gordon explained. "The first one is an article about Barnes reappearing."

"Reappearing? How?"

"Two months ago. He reappeared in the exact same laboratory where he'd last been seen."

"Where is he?" Scott nearly bellowed as they entered the elevator. "We have to talk to him!"

"Won't be that easy, Scott. He's in a mental institution."

"What?"

"Who's Barnes?" Virgil asked.

Scott ignored him. "What do you mean, Gordon?"

"He just sort of...materialized in the middle of the lab. Apparently the two scientists in there at the time had their backs to him. When they turned, he was sitting on the floor absently picking at his shoelaces."

"He's insane?"

"'Fraid so. That‘s what the other two articles are about."

"I don't care. Call whoever you have to call. I want to see this man. Now."

"F.A.B.," Gordon replied, rushing out of the elevator before the doors had opened all the way.

"Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?" Virgil asked as Scott stalked into the Lounge.

He whirled on his brother. "There's a scientist in England who disappeared a year ago while working on a phase converter."

Virgil waited as he sat down at the desk. It soon became apparent that Scott wasn't going to volunteer anything else as he began rummaging around in the drawers.

"And?"

"And he's back. And I'm going to see him."

"I'm coming with you."

"No, you're not. You need to help John make that astral scanner of his."

Virgil shook his head and came to stand in front of him. "He can build it on his own. You need someone to look after you."

Scott rose to his full height, which was only an inch above his younger brother. "I'm leaving as soon as Gordon gets a line on Barnes. Alone."

Virgil's jaw worked, but his face remained unreadable. "Fine, Scott. Go alone. But don't forget: you're not the only one whose father is missing."

He could only stare at Virgil's back as he left the room. Deflated, Scott sank into his father's chair.

No, I'm not. But I'm the one everybody's expecting to find him.

Chapter Six

Her cloaking device engaged, Thunderbird 4 cruised undetected through the ocean's depths. After over forty-five minutes of silence, Jeff turned to face his companion. "I need to know what the hell is going on. What happened to Tracy Island? And to International Rescue? And to my family?"

Dana looked up, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "I don't understand. How could you not know? In order to be alive right now, you would've had to have lived through it."

"Listen, all I know is that I was in the lab with my entire family. Next thing I know, I'm waking up in the lab, but it's completely destroyed. It's night and pouring-down rain, and everything is in ruins."

Dana frowned. "You seriously have no idea what this world's come to. Do you?"

Jeff shook his head.

Taking a deep breath, Dana began. "Fifteen years ago, your oldest son Scott took Thunderbird 1 to a rescue call on Halmahera Island. It was part of Indonesia. He barely got on the ground when a nuclear missile hit, wiping out him, Thunderbird 1, and the entire native population of that island along with the Moluccas and New Guinea."

That never happened! That's not possible!

"Thunderbird 2 was only ten minutes out and got caught in the shockwave. She crashed into the ocean. The only bodies ever found were those of Virgil and John. It was assumed that Gordon was on board as well, but he‘s never been located."

This is a bad dream. It has to be.

"Thunderbird 5 was blown out of orbit and disintegrated as it fell through Earth's atmosphere. Within hours, your true identities as International Rescue had been broadcast on every satellite station in the world. Twelve hours after that, Tracy Island was attacked."

It's like a bad novel. She's out of her mind.

"The island put up a good fight, but in the end the king prevailed, killing your friend Kyrano, his daughter Tin-Tin and your mother. He told everyone he'd broken your neck with his bare hands."

"You keep saying the king, and he. He who?"

"The man everybody called the Hood. Now we all know his real name: Belah Gaat."

"The Hood? He's the one who did this?"

Dana nodded, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. "After that, the world went to hell. He had your technology, he had access to everything. He used it to build weapons the world couldn't withstand. In only six months, he proclaimed himself the king of Earth. There wasn't any nation left who could resist him."

"Wait a minute. You've mentioned everyone but Brains. What about Brains?"

"Brains? What's that?"

"No, he's not a what. He's a who. He was...is...our engineer. He's the one who invented the Thunderbirds and all the rescue equipment."

"I've never heard that name. Was he on the island?"

"How should I know? This is your story."

Dana unbuckled her harness and leapt to her feet. "It's not a story, Goddammit! It's the truth! This is the world I've been living in since I was seventeen years old! Having to fight for food, keep myself hidden from the warriors! If it wasn't for Jared, Zo and James, I never would have survived!"

Jeff watched as she turned her back to him and leaned heavily on the door leading to Thunderbird 4's midsection. "I'm sorry, it's just...this doesn't make any sense to me. None of this has happened, as far as I'm concerned. And my neck certainly isn't broken."

Dana turned to face him. "No. I suppose it's not."

"You say this all happened fifteen years ago."

She nodded.

"What year is it, exactly?"

Brow knitted, she replied, "Twenty forty-eight."

"What?"

"Twenty forty-eight. Why?"

"No wonder I don't know what's going on. Last I knew, it was twenty thirty-three."

"That explains it! You must have partial amnesia!"

Jeff's heart sank. It did seem to be the most logical explanation, but he couldn't fathom not being able to remember his own family members' deaths. Fifteen years was an awful lot to lose. Could it be his mind blocked it out simply because it was too painful a history to recall?

"Where are we going?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know. This island's been our haven for the past ten months. I only know of one place that's safe."

"Where's that?"

"I have a friend...or at least, I used to have a friend...who was with one of the rebellious factions. Last I heard she was hiding out with her faction on Boon-Sing Island."

"Boon-Sing? Where's that?"

"About twenty-five hundred miles south of Hawaii. It used to be called Jarvis Island. The factions, and anyone not loyal to the king, still call everything by their old names. But when he took over, he renamed every last inch of this planet."

"The king. I don't believe it. It's like...like I've been asleep for fifteen years. My sons, my mother...twelve hours ago they were as alive and well as you are. Now? I just...I don't know."

Dana crouched down and placed a hand on his leg. "Now that James, Jared and Zo are gone, I've lost everyone I ever loved, too." Jeff nodded and attempted to smile. "They found me beaten in an alley a month after my mother was killed. As a matter of fact, you knew my mother."

"Your mother?"

She nodded. "My last name is Clarke."

"Clarke," Jeff repeated. "Clarke? As in Jen Clarke?"

For the first time since he'd met her, Dana's smile reached her eyes. "You do remember."

"Of course I do. She worked on the rocket we took to the moon. Very intelligent woman. I'm sorry she's gone."

"Thanks. My dad was American. He left when I was three. Mom moved us to Florida so she could work for NASA. The warriors tried to...persuade her to work for the new king. When she refused, they killed her right in front of me. Laser rifle shot to the abdomen."

Jeff laid a hand over hers.

"There was no one more surprised than Mom when she found out you were the one behind International Rescue."

He chuckled. "She had some pretty fancy ideas about making rocket ships go. I guess we could've used a mind like that."

Dana nodded and moved away, pulling down another jumpseat and sinking into it. "I sure hope Marin is still there."

"Marin?" he asked as he turned to change their course.

"My friend on Boon-Sing."

"Ah."

The two remained silent as Jeff struggled to quelch the feelings of loss and confusion that threatened to overpower him.

Can't concentrate on what I've lost. Only on what I can do now.

"I wonder what happened to Penny. If we could get to her, I'll bet she could help us."

"Penny? Oh, you mean Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward?"

He whirled around. "You know her?"

Dana shook her head. "No, but there was a world-wide manhunt for her and her butler that lasted over four months. As far as I know, they were never found. Or if they were, the king's kept it a secret."

"If I know Penny, she's still alive and probably very much kicking."

Jeff turned back to face the cockpit windows. Against his better wishes, anguish began to creep over him as he thought of his strong, young, virile sons.

How can they be gone? Wouldn't I know it somehow? Wouldn't I feel it?

Tears stung the back of his eyes.

Scott. Virgil. God. Oh, God. John. Gordon. Alan. And Mother, and Tin-Tin. Kyrano, my old friend. Oh, God, help me. Tell me I'll wake up from this.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and took a deep breath, trying desperately to keep from letting even a single tear escape.

"Mr. Tracy, I don't know how you survived, but I know there's a reason. I didn't want to live after I saw James and the others blown to pieces. But I know James is with me. I heard him tell me I had to protect you. He said you were our only hope."

He looked up at her. Never one to believe in ghosts speaking to the living, he decided not to altogether dismiss it, given the circumstances.

But what the hell can I do? Without my family, without all our technology, I have nothing. I'm just one man. How could I be anyone's hope?

"Call me Jeff, Dana. Just call me Jeff."

Virgil watched as Scott boarded Tracy Two. He stood at the edge of the tarmac; a small bud nestled within his ear, a thin microphone extending down to the right corner of his mouth. "Okay, Scott, you're cleared for takeoff."

"F.A.B. I'll be back as soon as I can. Keep it together here, Virgil."

"You keep it together, too."

The jet's engines whirred to life, and she began to move. Quickly picking up speed, she sailed into the air just ten feet from the end of the runway. Virgil sighed and headed back to the elevator.

Now that Scott's gone, I'm in charge.

He entered the elevator and waited as it rose.

Fuck.

Chapter Seven

"Can you scramble it so our message can't be picked up by the warriors?"

Jeff nodded. "Yeah, sure. What do you want to say?"

She rose and stood next to him, her hand on the back of his chair. "Jane ran away, but I found her. She wants to come home."

He looked up at her and frowned.

"Don't worry. If Marin's there, she'll understand."

He nodded and tapped out the message on the keyboard in front of him. "How long before you think we'll know?"

"I'd say within five minutes."

"What's this Boon-Sing like?"

"Well, I'm not really sure. I only heard through a mutual acquaintance that Marin was there. I imagine they keep pretty well hidden, though. The warriors...they have ways of locating factions that must use unbelievable technolo" Dana stopped and bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Mr. Tracy."

"Jeff," he quickly replied, then let out a slow sigh. "Facts are facts. Nothing can change what's happened."

"I hope you're wrong, Jeff. I hope you're wrong."

Belah walked amongst the charred and bloody remains of what he determined to be three men. They were all much younger than Jefferson Tracy would've been now.

"Whoever these men were, they must have found an old communicator," Chien offered as he came to stand next to his commander.

"Perhaps," Belah replied as he climbed a small, rocky hill. He peered over the edge into what he knew used to be the silo housing Thunderbird 3. "Take the pilot down there and do a thorough search. You are to return within one hour's time."

"Yes, Sir," Chien replied as he loped down the beach toward the helijet.

Belah surveyed the landscape. Nothing seemed any different than it had the last time he'd stood on this island nearly thirteen years ago.

Perhaps it was only a fluke.

He watched as Chien and the pilot descended into the silo. Then he turned and headed along the beach in the opposite direction from where the house had once been.

Belah just couldn't get that voice to stop droning endlessly in his mind.

Jeff Tracy is alive. Jeff Tracy is alive.

"Cammie?"

A brunette woman turned from the makeshift vanity where she'd been studying her face in a cracked mirror. "Come in, Marin," she called out in a lilting British accent.

The door to the tiny room opened, and a tall woman with long, brown hair crossed to stand in front of her.

"We just received a transmission."

Cammie‘s eyes narrowed. "From whom?"

"Don't worry. It's my old friend Dana. She's NC."

"Can you be certain? How do you know she's a non-conformer?"

"Cammie, I've known Dana Clarke since we were four. She sent a message she knew only I could understand."

Cammie nodded slowly. "What did her message convey?"

"That she's on her way here as we speak."

"Have you detected any vessels in the area?"

"No. My guess is she's somehow got something with a cloak."

Cammie studied her second-in-command's face. Open and honest, Marin had been by her side from the moment she'd landed on Jarvis Island, and had been the most vocal proponent of her taking leadership of this particular faction.

"Very well. But convey to your friend that she will be met with weapons. I will not have that which we have worked so hard for destroyed due to an error in judgment."

"Thanks, Cammie!" Marin grinned as she headed back out of the room.

"Oh, and Marin."

"Yes?"

"Find out whether or not she is alone."

Marin nodded and was gone.

Cammie turned back to the cracked mirror. Her fingertips gently traced an ugly scar that ran from the corner of her right eye down across her cheek and ended just below the right side of her lower lip. Sighing, she rose to her feet to prepare the others for this new arrival.

I hope I'm not wrong letting this Dana come here.

And I certainly hope she's alone.

"Message coming through, Dana."

Dana rose to her feet and stood peering over Jeff's shoulder. It appeared on the monitor as numerous odd symbols she'd never before seen. "What's it say?"

"Hang on, running translation. It says...Jane is...welcomed home...with open...arms. South room...4 minutes. What does that mean?"

Dana clapped her hands together and laughed. "She's here! I knew it! It means we‘re supposed to surface on the southern side of the island, four miles west of due center."

Jeff smiled at her sudden change in demeanor, then his face fell as reality crept back in. Nodding, he turned back to the control panel and silently piloted them toward Jarvis Island. Just the thought of never again seeing those that he loved...it was incomprehensible.

It was all he do to focus on the controls.

Fifteen years. Gone. Just...gone.

"Report!"

Chien stepped out of the silo and descended the small hill. "They were definitely living down there, Sir. But I think there were more than just three."

"And why do you think that?"

"Because we found four beds."

"Four?" Belah repeated as he looked around the island once more. "Four. If there are four beds, there should be four people. That can only mean that one escaped."

Could that one be you, Jefferson?

"Back in the air. Now!"

"John, there's only an hour left before that eight-hour time limit you set runs out."

"I know, I know," John growled as he worked set the computer chip into the walkie-talkie sized scanner he was creating. "Ten minutes, Virg. Get off my back ‘til then, will ya?"

Scowling, Virgil moved to where Tin-Tin was working at one of the computers while Brains seemed to be rearranging wires inside the new converter they were building.

"Status report."

"I'm reprogramming the software now, Virgil."

"Fine, Tin-Tin. Brains?"

"Well, uh, Virgil, I-I think I almost have it. I-I made so many tweaks there a-at the end of things it's not e-easy remembering what went where e-exactly."

"You must remember, Brains. Scott's counting on us to have some answers when he returns."

Brains nodded, the majority of his mind already back on what he was doing.

Virgil raised his communications watch to his face. "Gordon, come in."

"Here, Virgil."

"Any news from Scott?"

"Nothing other than the fact that he's landed at Bradenton Airport. That was fifteen minutes ago."

"F.A.B. Virgil out."

He's probably already at the institution by now.

Virgil felt totally useless. John was at a point where he was more of a hindrance than a help, and he didn't know enough about Brains' phase converter to be of any use there. Gordon was holding down the fort in the Lounge, no doubt on with Thunderbird 5 keeping Alan from going crazy at the same time. And Scott, true to form, had insisted upon traveling to Florida alone.

Damn you.

He picked up the articles Gordon had left with him and re-read the most recent one his brother had been able to find.

4 September 2033 - Ruislip, U.K. - There is still no word as to whether or not former World Navy Chief Science Officer Dudley Barnes has regained his memories about what happened eleven months ago when he mysteriously disappeared without a trace while working on his latest invention, a modified form of a phase converter. CSO Barnes reappeared with no explanation exactly one month ago.

Sadly, officials at the Bradenton Institute of Mental Sciences in Florida, U.S.A., have told this reporter they hold out little hope of the man ever being able to tell them what went wrong. Until such time as Barnes regains use of his mental faculties, he will remain in the care of Dr. April Rameda, clinical psychologist.

When I spoke with Dr. Rameda yesterday, however, her outlook was grim. "Mr. Barnes can barely feed and clothe himself," she said. "He is incapable of eating, drinking or speaking. I don't know there's much we can do but hope he comes out of this soon."

Until then, the world will never know what happened to CSO Dudley Barnes. What happened, where he disappeared to, and how he returned are destined, it seems, to forever remain a mystery.

Virgil rubbed a hand over his forehead, eyes and nose as he sighed.

Let's hope Scott's able to get in to see him. If anyone can get information out of Barnes, it's him.

Cammie stood on the beach with a large automatic weapon at the ready. The remaining twelve members of the Jarvis Faction, as they'd come to call themselves, stood six on either side of her, with Marin right by her side.

"Were you able to determine if she is alone?"

"No. I only told her she was welcome, and where she should surface."

"Why didn't you ask? I specifically requested that information."

Marin bit her lip. "I was afraid that if she replied in the affirmative, you wouldn't let her come. I'm sorry, Cammie, but I couldn't take that chance."

Cammie narrowed her eyes at her second-in-command. "I can't have you disobeying my orders, Marin."

"I know. I know, and I'm sorry. It won't happen again, Cammie. I promise."

"See that it doesn't." She turned her eyes back to the sea and noticed a small ripple displacing the calm surface. "Well, alone or not, it looks like your friend has arrived."

"We'll be surfacing in five minutes."

"Oh, I'm so nervous. I haven't seen Marin in at least two years."

Jeff brought the ship nearer and nearer the surface. After all these years, he was amazed by how perfectly the small sub had functioned during their entire journey.

Bless you, Brains.

He grimaced.

Wherever you are.

Chapter Eight

Scott took the front steps of the concrete building two-at-a-time, noting how it stood in stark contrast to the palm trees and bright blue sky surrounding it. He entered through a revolving door and headed straight to the lobby desk, where a man dressed all in white stood waiting.

"Hello. My name is Scott Tracy. I'm here to see Dr. April Rameda."

The man, whose nametag told Scott he was "Bruce", tapped a few times on his computer monitor. "I'm sorry, Mr. Tracy, I don't see Dr. Rameda having any appointments outside of her patients today."

"Look again. My brother Gordon phoned ahead."

"I'm sorry, there's nothing here. I can check to see if she's available."

"You do that." Scott drummed his fingers on the counter top as Bruce tapped on a keyboard, then waited, then tapped again. "Well?"

"One moment, Sir. I'm sorry; she's with a patient right now. She'll be able to see you in fifteen minutes, if you'll just have a seat over there."

"I can't wait fifteen minutes!"

"Sir, you have no choice," Bruce replied sternly as he gestured toward two rows of chairs in front of the desk.

He's bigger than me, but I bet I could take him.

Deciding discretion to be the better part of valor, however, Scott took a seat, grumbling only a little. Bruce's look of triumph made Scott want to rip the crooked smile right off his face.

Scott fidgeted in the chair. He'd never been very good at waiting. He was a man of action; idle time was not something he'd ever been able to make peace with. Besides, being idle was a good way for your thoughts to get the better of you. And right now, that was not what Scott needed.

He heard Bruce answer a call, and turned his head slightly so that the receptionist was in his line of sight. When Bruce bent down to grab something out of a file cabinet, Scott made his move.

Crouching low to the ground, he ran as fast as he could in that position to the right side of the tall counter. When he peeked around the side, Bruce's back was to him. Scott reached around into the file cabinet drawer Bruce had left open. Luckily it was for patients with last names at the beginning of the alphabet. He silently sifted through the papers as Bruce sat down, his back still turned. At last he found the piece of paper he was looking for. He scanned it, then stuffed it back into the drawer.

Still crouching, he headed for the hall behind the desk. He turned down the first hall he came to, and raced for the elevators at the other end of it. He entered the waiting car, congratulating himself on a job well done, while at the same time marveling that the Institute still had paper files.

Better for me.

Just as the doors closed, he heard Bruce's voice. Bruce was yelling. Bruce obviously wasn't happy.

You're the one who's got no choice. Bruce.

"Nothing. There aren't any vessels within two hundred miles of this island, Sir."

"Chien, I want every warrior in this sector sent out on patrol. We've been here for hours. If someone did escape, they're probably thousands of miles away by now. Pilot, back to the temple."

"Yes, Sir."

Where are you, Rebel?

Belah seethed as the helijet turned away from the grid they'd been searching.

More importantly, who are you?

Cammie, Marin and the others watched as a small, yellow submarine rose to the surface. Cammie gasped, dropping her gun to the sand.

Marin jumped. "What is it?"

"It can't be. It just can't be."

"What can't be? What are you talking about? Pick up your gun."

But Cammie didn't seem to hear her. Slowly she approached the water's edge, then walked right out into it, up to her shins.

It just can't be.

Marin approached her. "What's going on?"

"It's Thunderbird 4. I don't believe it. After all these years."

"Thunderbird 4? Are you serious?" Marin turned to look at the sub again. Sure enough, there was a large 4 painted on her tail fin. "I thought they were all destroyed."

"Apparently not. Who is this friend of yours? This Dana? How could she have gotten her hands on that sub?"

"I don't know. She was with a small group of refugees last I heard. Three men. They're the ones who found her close to death and nurtured her back to health."

"Do you know who they were?"

"Uh, not really. Information on NC's is sketchy at best. You know that."

Cammie shielded her eyes from the sun as the top hatch opened. A young lady emerged and cried out when she saw them on the beach. "Marin!"

"Dana!" Marin cried as she ran past Cammie into the water. Dana slid down over 4's hull and the two embraced. "My God, it really is you!"

"I can't believe it! I can't believe you're here!"

Cammie looked away from them toward the figure which soon appeared at the hatch. It was an older man, that much she could tell, but due to the sun's glare, could not make out his features. She waited as he, too, slid down the hull and into the water. Marin quickly led them to her.

As the man stepped in front of her, his height shielded the light from the sun. It took a moment for the spots in front of her eyes to clear, but when they did, her face drained of all color.

"Dana, this is Cammie. She's commander of Jarvis Faction. Cammie, this is Dana Clarke."

Dana reached her hand out, but Cammie didn't move. In fact, she noticed, Cammie's eyes hadn't left Jeff's since he'd come ashore.

"Cammie," Marin whispered. Biting her lip, she turned to look at Dana and shrugged. "Who's your friend?"

They were startled when Cammie spoke. "Jeff Tracy."

Jeff approached the woman standing partially in the water, wondering exactly why she was doing so. Her brunette hair tossed in the breeze that was blowing, obscuring most of her face. When at last he stood in front of her, he noticed that she hadn't taken her eyes off him the entire time.

She must recognize me.

But when her accented voice spoke his name, he stiffened.

It can't be. Oh, my God. It can't be! Penelope?

He pulled her hand from her eyes. The hair was different, and there was a scar covering one whole side of her face. But he'd know that voice and those eyes anywhere.

"My God. Penny?"

"Jeff?" she squeaked. "But...but you...I don't...it can't..."

"Penny? Is that you?"

She nodded and reached one hand up to touch his face. A choked sob escaped her lips as her fingers met his jaw. "My God, it is you!" she cried, launching herself into his arms.

He held her tight, burying his face in her shoulder. "Penny. Penny," he kept repeating.

"You're alive," she nearly sobbed into his chest. "Oh, Jeff, you're alive!"

"Why does he keep calling her Penny?" Marin asked. "Her name isn't Penny. It's Cammie."

"There's only one Penny I know it could be," Dana replied, smiling broadly. "And I'll be damned if he wasn't right. She is alive. And she is kicking."

The rest of the faction lowered their weapons and headed back underground to their secret base, with Marin and Dana following.

It seemed like hours before Jeff and "Cammie" finally parted.

"How can you be alive?" she whispered, one hand caressing his face. "Gaat told everyone he'd killed you."

Jeff reached out and traced the scar marring her once perfectly beautiful face. "What happened to you, Penny? What are you doing here?"

"Surviving, Jeff. As I see you've been, too."

"I think we have a lot to catch up on."

She nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes and face. "I do apologize. Unfortunately, I haven't any tea to offer you, nor are our headquarters very fancy. But it's safe, and here we are among friends."

Jeff nodded, still in shock over finding her there. "Your hair," he said, touching where it lay on her shoulder.

"I must keep my identity a secret, Jeff. If Gaat ever found out I was alive, he would hunt me down, and a great many others would be in grave danger. As long as you are here, you must address me as Cammie."

"I understand. But I think Dana and her friend heard me call you Penny."

"I'll see to it they tell no one. Can we hide Thunderbird 4?"

"Yes. I'll cloak her. Wait here."

Penelope nodded and smiled as he headed back to the small sub. He stopped and turned before climbing up to the hatch. "You have no idea what it's like to see a familiar face, Penny...I mean, Cammie."

She smiled, but her smile faded quickly as he disappeared into Thunderbird 4. She touched the scar on her cheek. "What he must think of me, looking like this," she whispered. "A face not altogether familiar, I'm afraid."

Thunderbird 4 soon disappeared, and Jeff re-emerged from what looked like thin air. He was soon at Penny's side again, his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders.

"Are you hungry?" she asked as they walked toward the bunker's secret entrance.

He nodded. "I can't remember the last time I ate."

"Very well. First we shall see to it that your belly is full. Then, Jeff, we must talk."

"Agreed."

Penelope. Alive. Thank God. Oh, thank God.

Jeff Tracy, alive and well after fifteen years. Fifteen years! Thank God. Oh, thank God.

Chapter Nine

"Sir, the warriors have been unable to locate anyone in the search area. They've gone over it twice now."

"Chien, there is something afoot here, I'm certain of it. Have my prisoner prepared for questioning."

"Yes, Sir," Chien replied, bowing slightly and hurrying out of his master's chamber.

Belah walked over to an ebony armoire and slowly opened its doors. Inside hung several blue uniforms, each with a different-colored sash. "Time to play a game, my friend," he said, choosing one uniform and laying it on his bed. "If anyone knows what happened to Jeff Tracy, it will be you."

Scott waited as the elevator door opened onto an empty hall. He started walking to his right, but quickly realized these were the even-numbered rooms. What he wanted was 417. He turned on heel and jogged in the other direction.

About halfway down, he found the room he was looking for. Peering through the door's tiny window, he could only see a figure lying on the bed, his back facing him. When he tried the knob, he found it locked. Looking left and then right, he reached beneath the black leather jacket he was wearing and pulled out a laser pistol. Turning his face away, he fired, melting the knob and lock clear through.

The man on the bed sat up and turned to face him as he entered the room, closing the door softly behind him.

"Dudley Barnes?"

The man said nothing.

"Are you Chief Science Officer Dudley Barnes?"

Still, he was silent. Scott stood up straight and saluted. "Petty officer Scott Tracy reporting for duty, Sir!"

The man jumped to his feet and came to attention, saluting in return. "At ease, Tracy," he said.

Scott smiled. If there was ever a way to get through to a military man, it was by using protocol.

"Officer Barnes, I'm here on a top secret mission. I need your help."

He watched as Barnes' eyes seemed to turn inward, as a look of confusion passed across his face.

"Your name is Tracy, you say?"

"Yes, Sir."

"I must have returned before it happened."

"Before what happened?"

"The future, son. The future."

"I don't understand. The papers said you couldn't feed or dress yourself. You seem perfectly lucid to me."

"I am," Barnes smiled. "It's these idiots who think I'm nuts. Better to tell the world that a highly respected and decorated naval officer is a complete cupcake than that he's spouting some wild nonsense about having been to the future."

"You're saying that when you disappeared, you time-traveled?" Scott suddenly began to doubt the man's sanity after all.

"Indeed I did, boy. Indeed I did. It's a grim one. No hope. No light at the end of the tunnel. Quite frankly, I'm happy to stay locked away in this institution until I die. At least I won't live to see what I've borne witness to."

Scott seated himself on the room's lone chair as Barnes sank onto the bed.

"Officer Barnes, my father disappeared after touching a phase converter, just like you did. I need to know exactly what happened – where you went, and how you got back. I need to find my father."

"Jeff Tracy?"

Scott nodded.

"He's disappeared, you say?"

He nodded again.

"That explains it. That explains how it is you were defeated."

"Defeated? What are you talking about?"

"To this day, I cannot explain how it actually happened. But I was testing my new phase converter in the laboratory. When I touched it, I was surrounded by waves of rippling blue light."

"Yes! That's what happened to Dad!"

But Scott may as well not have been in the room. It seemed Barnes was actually reliving his experience. So Scott just sat back and listened.

"There were images...thousands upon thousands of them crowding into my mind. Things I had never seen, things that had never happened, or that I couldn't possibly have borne witness to. Then I woke to find myself in the very same lab in Ruislip. But it was under attack. Scientists and officers were running helter-skelter through the base. We were being bombed by several of our own fighters."

Emotions played clearly across Barnes' face as Scott watched in silence. The base at Ruislip hadn't been destroyed. Nothing like that had happened at all. Again, his faith in the man's sanity was beginning to fade.

"The world had gone mad, Scott Tracy. You were all gone. All gone."

"You? What do you mean?"

"You. Your family. International Rescue." Barnes laid down on the bed, covering his eyes with his hand. "I have seen the future, son. If your father doesn't return in time, I will outlive you."

Scott rose to his feet, his face a dark thundercloud. He crossed to the bed and shook Barnes, but the older man didn't move. "Explain that! What are you talking about? Where is my father?"

"I don't know," Barnes mumbled. "But with any luck, he's dead."

"You sonofa--"

A sudden sound from outside made Scott whirl around and run to the door. He opened it a crack and peeked out. There were two men in white uniforms just exiting the very elevator he'd used. One of them was Bruce.

"Shit."

Scott turned to look at Barnes, who was staring right at him. "Get out of here, Scott," he said. "Find your father before it's too late. Before it's too late."

Grinding his jaw in frustration, Scott waited until Bruce and the other orderly were looking the opposite direction, then bolted out of the room and toward the end of the hall.

"There he is!" Bruce yelled. "After him!"

Pounding footfalls echoed in the hall as Scott reached the staircase at the very end of it. He slammed the door open and flew down the steps. Heart racing, he passed the third floor...the second floor. At the bottom level there were two doors. One led to the Lobby, the other directly outside. He chose the one leading outside. Alarms began to wail as he ran from the building and back to where he'd parked his car.

What the fuck was Barnes talking about? he wondered as he got in and started the engine. If anything, Scott was more confused now than he had been when his father had disappeared.

The papers had been right. Barnes was insane. Traveling to the future. His family being gone. International Rescue being gone. Still, something nagged at Scott as he pealed away from the curb and headed for the airport.

If you didn't believe him, Scott, then why is your stomach in such a knot?

"What happened to you, Penny?" Jeff asked, his finger tracing the scar. They had eaten dinner with the rest of the faction, and were now sitting in Penelope's tiny room.

"I'd rather not talk about it, Jeff."

"I need to know. I don't remember any of it. I only know what Dana's told me."

"You don't remember?" Jeff shook his head. "Gaat had a missile hidden on a nearby island to Halmahera. The missile came from due west, an underground silo. After International Rescue was destroyed, Gaat came after Parker and me. We fled through the tunnels beneath the mansion. We had nothing but the clothes on our back and a bag Parker had kept packed in case of emergency. Gaat's warriors destroyed the mansion and half of England looking for us. We survived below ground for four months on the stores we kept there."

"Four months?"

Penny nodded. "Finally the food began to run out. Parker went to the surface and determined that it was safe for us to emerge. Jeff, we walked clear from there to the ocean, where FAB2 was still moored."

"You walked all that way?"

"Yes. And didn't see a soul the entire time. It felt like we were the last human beings on Earth. We boarded FAB2 and headed for Tracy Island. In the meantime, I altered my appearance as much as I could – changing my hair color, putting colored contact lenses in my eyes. But when we got near, we realized it had been destroyed. We detected no life forms anywhere. Parker was certain we would not survive if we landed, and so we continued on. Eventually we were attacked by some of Gaat's men. Parker managed to get me into the tiny nautical bubble Brains had recently equipped FAB2 with, but two warriors discovered us. I thought for sure we were dead."

Tears welled up in Penelope's eyes as she continued. "Parker fought valiantly, but the men were just too strong for him. I exited the bubble and attempted to help him, but one of the warriors caught me with his blade," she explained, fingers resting lightly on her scar. "Parker cried out and shoved me back into the bubble, locked it and launched it before I could do anything. There was blood everywhere. The last thing I saw was one of the warriors shove their sword clean through his chest. Then I lost consciousness."

"God, Penny, I'm so sorry."

"I never realized how much I cared for him until I woke later in a pool of my own blood. The first vision that entered my mind was him dying, giving his life for mine. I did nothing but cry for the next few hours until the control panel began to beep. I realized Parker must have programmed a destination into it, and when it surfaced, I found myself here on Jarvis Island. Marin and the rest of the faction had only been here a few months. They cared for me and nursed me back to health. None of them knows my real identity. Eventually I became the head of the faction."

Jeff rubbed his eyes with one hand, his other over Penny's trembling one. "I wish I'd been there for you."

"You'd disappeared, Jeff. The boys were frantic. You'd only been gone three days when Gaat began his attack on International Rescue."

His head snapped up. "Disappeared? What do you mean? Dana said Gaat told everyone he'd killed me."

She nodded. "He did. But I didn't believe him. You see, one day before Thunderbirds 1 and 2 were destroyed, Scott contacted me and told me you had disappeared, and that they couldn't find you anywhere. They wanted to keep it a secret, they didn't want to tell the world you were gone until it was absolutely necessary."

"Penny, what day was that? I mean, the date. What was the date?"

"Why, November the twelfth."

"What year?"

"Twenty thirty-three."

"Oh, my God."

"What? What is it, Jeff?"

"The last thing I remember before waking up a few days ago was that I was in the lab with everyone. Brains was showing us his latest invention, a new phase converter." Jeff stopped and looked Penelope directly in the eyes. "The date was November tenth. Twenty thirty-three."

Penny's eyes widened and her jaw dropped open. "That was the day you disappeared."

"It can't be. This just doesn't make sense."

"What, Jeff?"

"I don't recall anything you or Dana have told me happened. She said it started when Scott landed in Indonesia, a rescue at an island there. That he was hit with a nuclear missile. That Thunderbird 5 was blown out of the sky. That the island was destroyed."

"Yes."

"But Penny, to me, none of that ever happened. Right now I feel like it's only been three days since I was standing in the lab with my entire family, in 2033. Yet fifteen years have gone by. And now you're telling me that I disappeared on the very day that's the last day I recall with them."

Her hands traveled the contours of his face as she seemed to look upon him with new eyes. "You know something, Jeff?"

"What?"

"The fact is that fifteen years have passed. Even without this scar, I know I look much older than I did the last time you saw me. But you...you haven't aged a bit. You look exactly the same as you did one week before you disappeared. That was the last time we spoke."

"I remember. You called in a status report on the case you were following...what was it, the disappearance of one of our agents?"

"That's right, Jeff. I think I know what's happened."

"I sure hope so. Because I feel like I'm losing my mind."

"The fact that you haven't aged tells me that you haven't lived these fifteen years."

"What do you mean? I had to have lived them."

"Then why can't you recall anything?"

"Dana thinks I must have amnesia, that maybe I blocked it out."

"I don't believe that's the case, Jeff. I think you disappeared on November 10th, 2033. And I think the place you appeared was here, in 2048."

"Do you have any idea what you're saying?"

"I do. Something happened that day in Brains' laboratory. Something that changed the course of history."

"You're saying I...I time-traveled."

She nodded. "It's the only solution that fits the facts."

"It's not possible."

"Jeff, look at yourself," she said, pulling him to his feet and over to her mirror. "I know you have splendid genes, but do you think you look like a man who's seventy-eight years old?"

He looked at the man staring back at him. Looked hard. "No," he replied. "I don't. I look like a man who's sixty-two. I look exactly the same as I did that day on the island."

She came to stand beside him and grasped his hand. "Exactly. I think you're here for a reason, Jeff. I think you're here to stop this all from happening."

"But how, Penny? I don't even know how it is I got here. In order to stop Gaat from taking over, I'd have to find my way back to 2033."

"I know."

Jeff turned and looked down at her. "Dana said everyone was killed, but she'd never heard of Brains. Do you know what happened to him?"

She shook her head. "I can only surmise that Gaat captured him. Even with the plans and designs from the island's computers, I don't think there's any way he could have built some of the machines he has without Brains doing it for him."

"I can't believe Brains would willingly create machines to be used as weapons. He'd rather die first."

"Who said he did it willingly?"

"I have to stop this from happening. I have to keep Scott from landing in Indonesia, from even going on that rescue." He grasped her hands and squeezed them tight. "Penny, if you're right, if Brains is still alive, he may be my only chance at putting things right."

She smiled. "Then I suggest we try to find him."

Chapter Ten

Entering the dungeon deep beneath his temple, Belah was pleased to discover his prisoner manacled to the far wall. To the prisoner's right was a metal table covered with all manner of devices of torture. Chien stood to the alarmingly thin man's left and bowed as his master approached.

"The prisoner has been prepared, Sir, but I must warn you that he is incoherent and cannot be kept conscious."

"I don't need him to be conscious," Belah spat. "Leave us."

Chien nodded and scurried away. Belah laughed as he looked down at himself. He was dressed in an International Rescue uniform, complete with a blue sash. He walked forward and grabbed something off the table. Reaching out, he snapped it open under the man's nose. The man groaned and slowly blinked his eyes open. His chin rested on his chest, and he didn't seem to be aware of his surroundings.

Belah grinned, and when he spoke, his voice didn't sound like his own. "Brains! Brains, I've found you!"

For indeed, the man hanging before him was none other than International Rescue's former engineer. His large, blue eyes were unfocused, his mind nearly nothing but a blank. But that voice...he knew that voice. He hadn't heard it in so long. Slowly he struggled to raise his head. He couldn't see very clearly, but what he could see made his heart stop.

"S-Sss--Scott?" he croaked.

"What happened to you, Brains?"

It was Scott. It was!

"Hood..." he gasped.

"I'm going to get you out of here. You're safe now. But I need you to tell me what happened to Father. Where is he? Where's Father, Brains?"

Brains couldn't keep his mind on track. He began to lose consciousness, but felt the sharp sting of someone slapping his cheek. "F...Fath--er?"

"Yes. I need to find him. You have to help me, Brains. So I can save both of you."

"G--Gone...Scott...n-n-never f-f-f...found."

"Where?" the voice of Scott nearly bellowed. "Where did he disappear to? Tell me, Brains!"

"D-Don't...know. S-Sssscott...p-please...help..."

Belah growled in disgust. That was more than he'd ever been able to get out of the genius he'd nearly destroyed after so many years of torture and mind control. He'd never attempted pretending to be a Tracy before, because he knew Brains' mind would figure out he wasn't. But now, the engineer was almost dead, both mentally and physically. His hope had been to learn Jeff Tracy's whereabouts, or at the very least what had happened to him all those years ago.

But, it seemed, even Brains didn't know.

"It doesn't matter, you fool," Belah spat in his own voice as he ripped the sash off and threw it to the dirt floor. "I'm in control, and when I'm finished with you, you'll be dead. And if Jeff Tracy is still alive, I'll see to it he joins you in Hell."

With that, Belah picked up a small knife.

Standing at the entrance to the dungeon, Chien heard a sound that chilled him to the bone. One agonizing scream echoed off the dungeon walls.

Then there was only silence.

"Cammie, are you sure we should leave this island?"

"Marin, this is the chance we've been waiting for. It's the opportunity to change things, to make them right. To rid this world of Belah Gaat once and for all. Jeff is only one who can set things right. If we refuse to assist him, we're as bad as those who are Conformers."

"I say we go for it," a balding, middle-aged man said, rising from his seat. "Sitting on this goddamn island, hiding away from everything...well, it sure isn't making a difference. I'd rather die trying to help Tracy than sit here and do nothing."

"Hear, hear!" a woman said, rising to her feet.

Jeff, Penny, Marin and Dana watched as, one-by-one, the members of the faction showed their consent by standing. When at last no one was left sitting down, Penny took Jeff's hand and smiled before turning to address those in the room.

"Prepare yourselves for a long and difficult journey. We shall require all the food and weapons we can carry. We'll take both my yacht and Thunderbird 4."

"FAB2? It's here?" Jeff asked, incredulous.

"Of course, Jeff. We were able to find it and--" Penelope's voice broke. "And Parker's body. FAB2 is cloaked. It's been here the whole time."

"Where are we going?" the man who'd spoken before asked.

"Our destination is Malaysia," Penny replied. "The man we need to find could only be there."

"We're going after Gaat himself?" another man asked. "There's no way in hell we'll get to him."

"Half of us will go after Gaat. The other half are looking for a man we believe he's been holding prisoner. This man is the only one who can possibly turn the tide."

"It's suicide," a woman breathed.

"Marita!" Marin admonished.

"She's right," Jeff acknowledged. "I don't know any of you. And I can't expect you to have faith in something that seems like a one-in-a-million chance. You've all stayed alive somehow through the terror of what this world has become. If you want to stay here, stay safe, I understand."

"No fucking way," Dana said, grabbing Marin's hand with her left and Cammie's with her right. "We didn't last this long because we're cowards. None of us."

Nods and murmurs of assent washed over the room. "We're with you," the woman finally said. "Brad's right. We can't just sit here and let it go. We have to do something. And as crazy as this scheme of yours sounds, the fact that you're even standing here, Mr. Tracy, tells me that Gaat isn't all he's cracked up to be. If anyone can beat him, it's you."

Jeff looked down at Penny and smiled.

"Then let's get to it, people!" she said. "We leave in three hours."

Faction members filed out of the room, until at last only Jeff and Penny were left. "This is some remarkable group you've got here."

"It is, Jeff. We'll succeed. We're going to find Brains, and he'll be able to get you back to your time. And you'll stop this. You'll stop this all from happening."

"That's an awful lot of weight on one man's shoulders. What if I fail?"

"You? Fail? That's impossible. You're Jeff Tracy."

"What'd you find out, Scott?"

"Nothing that makes any goddamn sense. Barnes is a lunatic."

"What did he say?"

"He said he'd traveled to the future."

"The future?" Virgil frowned.

"Yes. He said International Rescue had been destroyed, and that he could only hope Father was dead."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Alan asked from his video portrait.

"It means Dudley Barnes is as mad as it says in those articles Gordon found," Scott said quietly as he seated himself at his father's desk. "It's all nonsense."

Everyone was quiet as they watched Scott. He looked like a taut wire ready to snap at any minute.

"John, what'd your scanner turn up?"

"There's only one place we could find a traceable aura on Dad," John replied as he walked to the computer behind the desk. He keyed in a few commands and a faint pink glow appeared in the middle of the lab. "The only place Dad's been is right there in that spot where he was standing before the converter blew."

"There's nothing else?"

"No. We've been over nearly every inch of this island. We can't even pick that aura up anymore. This is a file image we captured as soon as we got the scanner to work."

"Then he's not on the island."

"No," Gordon replied. "Wherever he went, it wasn't anywhere here."

Scott slammed his fist down on the desk, causing everyone to jump. "This isn't fucking possible. It just isn't!"

"What isn't, Scott?" Virgil asked, a worried frown creasing his brow.

"How can a man just blink out of existence like that?"

"Uh...I think I may have a theory," Brains ventured as all eyes turned to him. "Given w-what you've said that, uh, Barnes told you...I think I may h-have the answer."

"I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"Uh...well, n-no, Scott...probably, uh, not."

"Well, let's hear it," Ruth said impatiently.

"The, uh, prevailing theory on t-time travel a-at this moment is that it, uh, cannot be accomplished w-without a time gate o-open on either side of the spectrum where the, uh, traveler wishes to depart from a-and arrive at. H-However, one scientist, a-a Dr. Amrian, h-has speculated that it isn't, uh, necessary to have a-a gate at the o-other end. That if the, uh, gate on this side is powerful e-enough, the person could, uh, easily travel either forward o-or backward in time."

"But we don't have a time travel gate, Brains," Tin-Tin said.

"Uh, well, no, not e-exactly. But time travel gates, o-or interspatial teleporters, uh, theoretically, require u-use of an antineutrino generator."

"Oh, my God!" Tin-Tin exclaimed. "That's how you made the phase converter as efficient as you did! You used antineutrino power!"

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Virgil asked, his husky voice nearly a squeak.

"Y-Yes, I-I believe we are, uh, Virgil. Somehow, it would seem, my phase converter a-acted as an interspatial teleporter. I-It would stand to reason that, uh, Mr. Tracy disappeared into a different, uh, time."

Scott's face was a mask of stone. "Past or future, Brains?"

"There's, uh, no way for me to tell that, Scott. E-Even if I-I could recreate the time gate, I-I cannot guarantee it would lead to wherever Mr. Tracy went."

"Barnes said he went to the future. And he went the same way Dad did," Scott mused.

"Then it stands to reason that Dad went to the future, too."

"Makes sense, John."

"No, it doesn't make sense, Gordon!" Scott bellowed, rising to his feet. "Time travel. Interspatial teleporters. You expect me to believe that our father shot into our own future?"

"Barnes did."

"He only said he did, Virgil."

"Well, do you have any better theories, Scott?"

Scott turned on his closest brother, his jaw working, his eyes full of fury.

Virgil turned away to face Brains. "Can you recreate the gate?"

"I-I don't know. I-I suppose I could rerun the test just a-as I was doing when Mr. Tracy vanished."

"What, so another of us can disappear?" Ruth interjected. "I don't think so."

"Can it bring him back, Brains?"

"I-It's all pure theory, uh, Virgil. I-I honestly can't tell you that."

John walked over and stood in front of Scott. He looked him right in the eye. "You didn't believe in my aural scanner, but you believed in me, and the goddamn thing worked. Brains is a genius, Scott. If he says this is possible, what do we have to lose? Dad's already gone. What if Brains can bring him back?"

Anger had disappeared from Scott Tracy's face. Nothing made sense anymore. John and the others were right. This outlandish theory was pretty much the only thing that had even come close to explaining the situation, especially given what Barnes had told him. Scott sighed and looked away.

"Do whatever you have to, Brains," he said quietly. "I'll be in Father's study."

Brains, Tin-Tin, John and Gordon headed for the lab while Alan cut his feed to the Lounge, and Kyrano and Ruth walked out onto the balcony. Scott took off for the stairs and ran up them two-at-a-time. He entered Jeff's study, a room directly off his bedroom suite, and slammed the door shut behind him. He didn't hear it click quietly open a few minutes later.

"Scott."

"What do you want, Virg?"

Virgil eyed his older brother sympathetically. Scott hated not being in control, and in this situation, he was anything but in control. "I want to make sure you're okay."

"Do I look okay?"

"No, you look like shit."

Scott snorted as he sat down in one of the room's chairs. "I really fucked this one up."

"How so?" Virgil asked, sitting in a nearby chair.

"I've failed, Virgil."

"How?"

"I haven't found Father. The only thing left is something so outlandish it can't possibly be the answer. I've lost him, Virg. I've lost Dad."

"Scott, you didn't lose him. And if it weren't for your visit to Barnes, Brains wouldn't even have thought of the time travel theory. If anything, you're the one that supplied the final clue he needed to put two and two together."

"To come up with what?" Scott yelled, jumping to his feet. "Fucking fifteen?"

"Listen, Scott, I don't know that I believe in this time travel thing any more than you do. But would you rather think that he just winked out of existence? Or that he's alive and well somewhere in time, and that we can get him back?"

Scott turned to face his brother, who'd also risen to his feet.

"It's hope, Scott. If we don't believe in something, then we've got nothing. If we don't try this, we'll never know whether or not we could have found him."

Scott's shoulders sagged and he drew his hand down over his face. "You're asking me to believe something that goes against everything I've ever believed in."

"No, Scott. I'm not asking you to believe in anything but yourself. What does your gut tell you? That Barnes is insane? Or that he was telling the truth? That Brains is grasping at straws because he's desperate? Or that he's onto something tangible, something that could be the answer to Dad's disappearance?"

Scott's voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. "I guess I have no choice but to believe."

"It's been almost two days, Scott. None of us have slept. Why don't you get some rest?"

"The hell I will. If Brains is going to try and make Dad reappear, then I'm going to help him."

Virgil smiled as he followed his brother out of the study.

"First, I'm going to give Penny a call. At the very least, I think she should be aware of what's going on."

"All right. I'll meet you in the lab," Virgil replied as he headed down the staircase.

"Virg?"

"Yeah?" he stopped and turned to look back up at Scott.

"Thanks."

Nodding, Virgil grinned as he continued on his way.

Scott headed for his suite. He entered and sat down at the desk in the sitting room. For a few moments he could only stare at the vidphone. Finally he reached out and dialed Lady Penelope's number.

"Hello, Scott. What an unexpected surprise."

"And unpleasant too, I'm afraid, Penny."

"What's happened?"

A lump formed in Scott's throat as he replied, "Dad's disappeared."

Chapter Eleven

Belah paced the grand main chamber of his temple. He'd tortured Brains, but the idiot had passed out on him and this time, Belah had not been able to revive him. He estimated his prisoner would be dead within half a day, if not less.

But there was still the problem of Jeff Tracy. He couldn't get out of his mind hearing his voice calling out to Thunderbird 5. It had been two whole days since that signal had come through, and there'd been no activity on that frequency since. But then there'd been the incident on Tracy Island.

And yes, Belah had lied to the world. Even his closest aide, Chien, didn't know the truth. Belah hadn't killed Jeff Tracy with his bare hands. He'd never been able to find him. He and his warriors had searched Tracy Island from stem to stern, as well as every Tracy Corporation building and Creighton-Ward Mansion, but he'd never been discovered. He even boarded Thunderbird 5, but found only Tracy's youngest son on board. He'd shot him in the head before retreating to his own ship and blowing the space station to hell.

But he had never, ever seen or heard from Jeff himself. After all these years, to hear the man's voice...to Belah, that could only mean one thing. Not only had Tracy survived his attack, but he'd been underground all these years. And now, he'd surfaced. There had been reports of a few uprisings by NC factions in the past few hours, but nothing his warriors hadn't been able to handle.

Yet it disturbed him. The reappearance of Jeff, the people on the island, and now these uprisings. It had to be more than mere coincidence. But on a planet as large as Earth, how would Belah ever find his enemy? And if he couldn't find him, how could he stop him?

His face hard and unyielding, Belah strode through a hall that opened into a second, smaller chamber. Over in the corner was a large object covered by an equally large black cloth. He walked over to it and pulled the sheet away, letting it fall to the floor around him.

The machine looked like a large rectangular frame. It was made of Formula C30/1, the same metal creation the Mole's drill bit had been made of. Virtually indestructible, it ensured almost nothing would be able to destroy this particular invention.

Belah had commissioned it as one of the first items he forced Brains to create. It was nothing less than a time gate. Belah reasoned early on that if his plans to dominate Earth didn't work, all he'd have to do is travel back in time and try again until he was successful. However, he'd had no reason to use it, and so it had sat here in this chamber for the last fourteen years, untouched.

But Belah needed it now. He may have stripped Jefferson Tracy of his wealth and technology, but deep down, he feared him. For Jeff was nothing if not the very representation of all that was good and right...all that was opposite of Belah Gaat. In his experience, the Universe always seemed to have a way to right certain wrongs, to keep the balance of Good and Evil in proportion. Well, the balance had been swayed to Evil for a long time now. Tracy might very well be the thing that turned the tables on the king of the Earth, and Belah couldn't have that.

His only choice, he reasoned as he looked up at the eleven-foot-tall gate, was to travel back to before he had destroyed Thunderbirds 1 and 2...back to the past to find Jeff Tracy and make certain, once and for all, that he was dead. If he could do that, he would secure the future for certain. But what if he failed?

He pushed that thought to the furthest recesses of his mind. Yes, the chance existed that he would not be able to find Tracy or, if he did, that he would die instead of his foe. Either way it would change the past, and Belah knew he had to try. Otherwise the empire he had built for himself might crumble around him.

There were a few preparations to be made. He stalked from the chamber to his room, yelling for Chien the entire way. When at last his aide appeared at his door, Belah said, "The last known faction of rebels is on Boon-Sing, correct?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Take every ship we have and converge upon that island. If I do not succeed, you must ensure all non-conformers perish."

"Do not succeed? What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to find Jefferson Tracy," Belah replied. "And with any luck, I'm going to change history."

TEN HOURS LATER...

"We should be hitting mainland Malaysia in about thirty minutes."

"Something isn't right, Jeff."

"I know what you mean. We haven't seen a single boat or aircraft the entire time we've been on the water."

"Cammie?" came a voice over the airwaves.

"Yes, Marin?"

"We've got a visual on the mouth of the Rajang River. There isn't a soul in sight on the mainland. Should we proceed up the river to the Baleh?"

Standing next to Jeff, who was seated in Thunderbird 4's pilot's chair, Penny looked down at him. He nodded and she replied, "Affirmative, Marin. But keep the yacht cloaked. Just because we can't see the enemy doesn't mean he's not there."

"Got it, Cammie. Over and out."

"God, this is a long shot, Penny. Even if Gaat did force Brains to make weapons for him, it's been fifteen years. He could be dead by now."

"That's very true. But if nothing else, perhaps we can at least eliminate Gaat himself. It would be the first step to restoring peace."

"I keep thinking this is all a terrible nightmare, and that I'm going to wake up at any second and find myself back home with Scott and Virgil staring down at me, frowns on their faces."

Penny laughed softly before her face became sad. "I don't want them to be gone any more than you do, Jeff. I only hope Brains is still alive, and that he can do something to help you bring them back. Or more correctly, to see that they never die to begin with."

"I hope so too, Penny."

Yes, it was a long shot. But it was the only shot Jeff had.

"Do you have everything you require, Master?"

"Yes. Now take my helijet and the remaining guards. I want you there to oversee the operation at Boon-Sing."

"Yes, Sir," Chien replied. He turned and walked down the hall leading to the main chamber. He knew that the machine his master was standing in front had something to do with time travel. He wondered what exactly Belah Gaat thought he was going to change. And why would he need to change anything at all? Everything had gone according to plan from the very first. What could his boss possibly want different?

The only answer was Jeff Tracy. For the first time ever, Chien began to feel doubt where his king was concerned. Belah hadn't been able to rest ever since that transmission had been picked up two days ago. If he had indeed killed Jeff Tracy fifteen years past, why would hearing his voice have bothered him so?

The only answer was that he'd lied to them all. That he hadn't killed Tracy.

"That must be what he wants to change," Chien mused as he headed for the rear exit. "He must be going back in time to kill Jeff Tracy."

He stopped dead in his tracks as a thought occurred to him. If Belah could go back and kill Jeff...Chien could go back and kill Belah. Then he would reign supreme over the world. Visions of triumph swirled in his mind. As the last guard to leave opened the door, Chien made his decision.

"Leave without me," he ordered. "His Excellency has asked me to remain here with him."

The guard nodded and disappeared into the fading light of early evening. Chien turned and headed for the dungeon. There was only one man he knew that could teach him how to use that time machine. He only hoped he was still alive.

"How's it coming, Brains?"

"Well, uh, I think I've calibrated this replacement converter w-with the same configuration a-as the one your father touched," Brains replied, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead. "I-It's ready to go."

"All right, here's what we're going to do. You're going to show me how to run this thing. The rest of you are going to wait in the hall. Brains, once I'm up to speed, you're going to wait out there with them."

"The hell we're waiting out there, Scott!" Virgil said, stepping forward, his hands balled into fists. "You don't know what's going to happen! We might need to help!"

"Virgil, if this doesn't work, we could all be killed or...transported into a different time. We can't risk any more than one of us."

"Why does it have to be you?" John asked, stepping forward to stand next to Virgil.

"Because I'm in charge, and that's my decision."

"Fuck you, Scott. Just because you're the oldest doesn't mean you're in charge of shit. You're not the fucking end-all and be-all of this family."

Scott hauled off and punched John square in the jaw. Virgil stepped between them as John lunged for his eldest brother. "Knock it off!" Virg bellowed.

John and Scott glared at one another, one of Virgil's hands on each of their chests to hold them apart.

"John has a point, Scott," Gordon ventured. "Although I wouldn't have put it quite that way."

"I won't risk any of you," Scott said as he turned to look at Gordon. "I can't." With that, he seemed to deflate, and Virgil removed his hand.

John rubbed his jaw and leaned back against one of the lab tables. "If anyone shouldn't be here when this thing is fired up, Scott, it's you. We all know you're supposed to take over if something happens to Dad. If you go, we'll be stuck with Virgil."

Virgil glared at John but remained silent. Jesus Christ, I don't want to be in charge.

"I say it's all or nothing," came a voice from the door. They turned to find their grandmother standing there with Kyrano by her side. Ruth walked over to them and shook her head. "I can't believe you. Grown men fighting like children. We're a family. All of us. When one of us is in trouble, don't the rest of us always band together?"

Tin-Tin nodded. "She's right, you know. There is strength in numbers."

"Numbers didn't help us when Dad disappeared," Scott reminded them.

"So what, you want to disappear, too? Leave us with two missing Tracys?" Ruth retorted. "Over my dead body, Scott Tracy. Brains, there has to be some way to protect ourselves from this gate, or whatever it is, when it opens."

"Uh...well, I, uh, I suppose o-our radiation suits might shield us from the worst of its e-effects."

"Then I propose we all put one of those things on and run this experiment. Together."

Ruth Tracy may have only been five feet tall, but when she made up her mind, she was as unmovable as her son.

"All for one?" Gordon asked as he moved closer to Scott.

Finally Scott nodded. "All for one. Let's get the suits."

They filed into the next room where the radiation suits were stored, leaving Kyrano and Ruth alone with the phase converter. "Lord have mercy, that child is as stubborn as his father," Ruth commented.

"And as much so as his grandmother," Kyrano replied, his mouth forming a smile.

Ruth chuckled. "Guess so, Kyrano. Guess so."

Chapter Twelve

Jeff and Penny took six of the faction members with them, while Marin and Dana took the other six. Jeff's group circled in from the north, while Marin's group traveled further down the Baleh River. They would land and close in on the temple from the south. Both groups of people were armed to the teeth, laden with as much weaponry as they could carry.

They were a ragtag army, and a very small one. But they were the world's one hope at escaping this terrible future. As Jeff and Brad hacked their way through the jungle with machetes, Jeff's mind traveled back to the last time he'd seen his family. He prayed fervently that he could see them all that way again. If he did, he vowed, he would never take another minute with them for granted. Never.

Within forty-five minutes, Jeff's group had made it to the perimeter of the temple. Penny received a signal from Marin that her group would be in position within thirty minutes. She and Jeff quietly discussed their concern over the lack of any resistance.

"Gaat would never leave his headquarters unguarded like this," Penny whispered. "Five years after he gained power, a large group of rebels numbering nearly two hundred were wiped out when they tried to attack this place."

"You think it's a trap?" Jeff asked.

"I don't know. Thunderbird 4's scanners showed only three life signs inside. Where are the guards and slaves? Last inside report indicated nearly one thousand people dwelled here at any given time."

"It's just not sitting right. There has to be some explanation." Jeff looked at his watch. "Twenty more minutes and Marin will be ready."

"Basic attack?"

He nodded. "I can't think of any other--" He broke off and listened intently. "What's that sound?"

Penelope listened as well, her face turning toward the night sky. "If I didn't know better, I'd say it was a helijet."

"I knew this was too easy," Jeff growled. He rose to his feet and motioned for the rest to do the same. "There's a helijet on approach. It's about five miles out from the sound of it. Cammie, signal Marin to stay low. Brad, June, I want you to circle the perimeter east and west, check for side entrances. If you see any, stay in the jungle and cover them. We may need friendly fire to help us get out."

The two nodded and began to circle around through the undergrowth as instructed while Penelope radioed the other group.

"The rest of you are with us. That helijet is approaching from the south. The temple will hide us long enough to get inside the front entrance."

"Jeff, Marin and Dana are ready. They can hear it, too. Half of them are going to storm the rear entrance. The other half are going to try and bring the helijet down."

"Right. Okay, people, on my mark." Jeff waited, muscles coiled like a spring just waiting to jump. He saw leaves rustling to the left and right, and knew Brad and June were in place. "Three," he whispered. "Two...one. Now!"

The six of them poured out of the jungle into the clearing. Penelope and Jeff took the huge front steps two-at-a-time, while the other four approached more slowly, their guns trained in all directions as they kept on alert for the enemy.

At the same time, on the other side of the temple, Dana, Marin and two other rebels ran for the back entrance while the remaining four began setting up a large bazooka-like weapon on the outside edge of the clearing.

Penelope stood to the side as Jeff tested one of the large wooden double doors that comprised the front entrance to Belah Gaat's temple. It was, of course, locked. "Grenade," he whispered. "Let Marin know we're going in."

One of the team brought Jeff an old hand grenade. "Hope it still works," she said.

"Me too," he replied. "All right, if this doesn't get the attention of whoever's inside, nothing will. Get ready."

They all nodded as Jeff shot at a spot where the two doors met in the middle. The blast succeeded in creating a small hole, just the right size for a grenade. "Get behind those pillars!" he said as he pulled the pin. He shoved the grenade into the hole he'd created and scrambled to his right. He'd barely made it behind the pillar when the grenade exploded, sending both doors flying open. One slammed closed again while the other fell off one of its hinges.

All six of them ran from their hiding places up to the front entrance. No one was more shocked than Jeff when they found the main hall deserted.

"Guess they didn't hear that," one of them said.

"That's impossible. Two of you watch our backs. The other two, with us on front."

They nodded and slowly entered the great hall. Expensive paintings, masterpieces, really, lined both walls along with elegant and priceless tapestries and ancient weapons. There was no door at the other end of the hall, but all Jeff and Penny could see was flickering light, a sort of glow indicating the presence of candles.

Creeping forward slowly but surely, they neared the opening and stood in awe for a moment as they took in the sheer size of the room in front of them. Inside there were garish yet somehow beautiful statues carved from the most precious gems and stones that existed. Eternal flames burned on either side of a dais on the far side, a beaded curtain hiding what looked like a large statue of some sort.

Suddenly the radio crackled to life.

"Cammie, it's got us! We can't get in! We're trapped out here! We're under attack!"

"Marin!" Penelope cried.

"They got Brad and June! They've landed! We're under attack! Repeat, we're under--"

The radio crackled and went dead. Tears sprang to Penny's eyes and she sank back against the wall. She quickly wiped them away as she looked up at Jeff. "Looks like we're all that's left," she said quietly.

"We can do this, Penny," Jeff said, placing his hand on her arm. He turned to look at the others. "Right?"

They all nodded. Soon, Penny did, too.

"Now, if you were holding Brains prisoner in a place like this," Jeff whispered, "Where would you put him?"

"A dungeon?" one of the team offered.

"That makes sense," Jeff replied. "All right, we're down in numbers, but we're not through yet. I've got to find Brains, if he's here. Penny, you take the others and try to find Gaat. Better yet, do more than find him. Kill him."

"Jeff, you can't go alone. You won't have a chance. What if you find Gaat before we do? Worse yet, what if he finds you?"

"I'm faster on my own, Penny. And I'm counting on you to make sure he doesn't find me. Okay?"

She nodded. "Okay, Jeff. Go carefully."

He flashed her a smile. "Always."

With that, he dashed out into the cavernous room, whipping his gun to the left. Finding no one to challenge him, he continued forward until he reached an opening on his right. He heard a strange humming sound coming from within. Turning toward Penelope and the others, he motioned for them to check that out first, then continued on into another hall directly ahead.

Please let me find Brains. God, please.

Belah watched as a strange bluish light appeared inside the rectangle frame of his time gate. If his calculations were correct, he would arrive in the past approximately one month before he'd destroyed Thunderbirds 1 and 2. Strapped to his back was a pack full of weapons and other gadgets he could use to find and eliminate Jeff Tracy. He stood poised in front of the gate and checked his watch. He had to wait ten more minutes before the gate would be properly adjusted to his selected date and time.

Ten more minutes before the ultimate victory would be his.

"Ready, Brains?"

"I-I believe so, uh, Scott," Brains replied. He looked around the room. Every single resident of Tracy Island was present, and they were all wearing white radiation suits and helmets. It had taken some time for him to modify them each so they would protect their occupants as fully as possible from the waves he expected to come forth from the phase converter again.

"All right, everyone. Stand back," Scott said as he himself took a few steps back from the converter. "Fire her up, Brains."

He turned on the computer. Then he turned on the generator. Finally, he turned on the phase converter. He looked at his watch. "Five minutes to the point a-at which Mr. Tracy touched the, uh, converter," he announced.

"Wait a minute," Tin-Tin said, stepping forward. "That's right! He touched it!"

"What are you getting at?"

"Virgil, what if the only way to recreate the time gate is for one of us to actually touch the converter? After all, that's what triggered it before."

"She's right," Scott said. "If we don't recreate it exactly as it happened, it may not work."

"And I suppose you think you're going to be the one to touch it."

"Four minutes," Brains said.

"Damn right I am, Virg," Scott replied, pulling off his right glove and throwing it to the floor. "Just tell me when, Brains."

Everyone exchanged worried looks, but they knew Tin-Tin was right. And arguing about who should actually touch it wouldn't do anybody any good.

"Be careful, Scott."

Scott turned around and flashed Virgil a grin. "Always."

Jeff heard something in front of him, and pressed himself flat into the wall of the small hallway he was in. It sounded like something being dragged. His finger poised over the trigger of his laser rifle as he peered into the murky darkness ahead. There was light on the other side, but it was too faint for him to see clearly. Slowly he inched along the wall, his ears straining. Whatever it was sounded quite close.

Suddenly he saw a dark shadow appear not five feet in front of him. With a great cry, he leapt into the middle of the hall, his rifle trained on the stooped figure. "Identify yourself!" he growled.

He saw the shadow drop something to the floor before standing upright. "I said, identify yourself!"

"I am Chien, His Excellency's aide. Who are you?"

"That's not your concern. Does Gaat have a scientist here? Someone who invented all his machinery?"

Chien did not reply.

"Answer me, dammit!"

"It is funny you should ask that. I ask you again, who are you?"

Jeff walked forward a few steps until the light coming from behind Chien was just right to illuminate the Asian man's face. Apparently, it illuminated Jeff's as well, for Chien gasped.

"I was right. He has been lying to us. You're not dead at all."

"Damn right I'm not. Now, is that scientist here?"

Chien looked briefly down at the floor. Jeff followed the glance and saw an extremely thin, pale body lying at Chien's feet.

"Is that him? Is that him?" The aide nodded. Jeff took one more step forward. "Is he dead?"

"Barely alive," Chien replied. He chose that moment to reach inside his ornate jacket and whip out a pistol. But before he could even take aim, Jeff fired.

Chien slumped to the floor in a heap next to the man he'd dropped. Jeff's rifle clattered to the ground as he rushed to kneel beside what looked like nothing more than a skeleton with fake skin stretched across it. He rolled the body over and choked out a sob when he saw the man's face. "Brains!"

Gently he cradled his engineer in his arms. He couldn't weigh more than sixty pounds. His head was shaved clean, his body riddled with bruises, scars and marks indicating recent torture. "My God, Brains. My God. What did he do to you?"

No matter what he tried, he couldn't rouse Brains from unconsciousness. He rose to his feet, pulling the dying man up beside him. Just as he reached down to grab his rifle, he heard a sound that made his blood run cold.

A scream. And not just any scream.

"Penny!" he cried. Grabbing the rifle, he lifted Brains up over his shoulder and ran back the way he'd come. "Penny!"

Chapter Thirteen

"Emergency call, Scott! This is a bad one! Thousands of peoples' lives are at stake here!"

"But the time gate!" Scott cried into the microphone embedded in his helmet. "It's only one minute more!"

"Brains, shut it off!" Virgil yelled, tearing his helmet from his head. "Scott, we can try this when we get back. You think Father would want us to let people die?"

"Shit!" Scott yelled, taking his helmet off as well. "Turn it off, Brains."

Brains complied, with only fifteen seconds to spare.

"Tin-Tin, Gordon, John, Virg, with me. Kyrano, I need you and Grandma up there to man Base. Brains, stick by that goddamn machine until we get back! Alan, where's the rescue?"

"Halmahera Island, Scott! Indonesia!"

Everyone fled the lab as fast as their legs could carry them, leaving Brains behind with the phase converter. He stared at it as he lowered himself onto a nearby stool. They'd only been seconds away from possibly opening the time gate that could bring Jeff Tracy back to them. And then a rescue call.

"Bad goddamn timing," he muttered. Then his eyes widened as the words reverberated in his head. Bad timing? "More like perfect timing," he whispered, rising to his feet. "Shit."

Jeff ran into the great room and veered left into the small hallway that, he found, led into a second, smaller chamber. He screeched to a halt as he took in three dead bodies – the members of the faction who'd been with Penelope. Then he looked up and saw the most amazing machine he'd ever laid eyes on. It looked almost like an oversized mirror, but instead of reflective glass, the middle of it held something that looked very, very familiar.

Those blue waves of light. That's what I saw back in the lab. Right before...it can't be.

He heard a whimper and jerked his eyes to the right. There, next to the machine, stood none other than the man Jeff could only assume was Belah Gaat himself. To Jeff's horror, he held Penny tightly against his body, his arm wrapped around her neck. He had a machine pistol resting against the side of her head.

"Penny!"

"I was right. You are alive."

"You must be Gaat," Jeff seethed, gently lowering Brains to the floor.

"Correct. Jefferson Tracy," he replied, tightening his grip on Penelope. "I would suggest you drop your weapon, or very soon her ladyship will be joining your genius friend there in death."

Jeff's eyes darted around the room. Belah jerked Penny, who cried out in pain.

I don't have any other choice. If I don't do as he says, she's as good as dead.

Reluctantly, Jeff let the rifle clatter to the stone floor.

"Excellent. I assume you know what it is you're looking at," he said, nodding toward the machine.

"A way to travel through time."

"Very good. I'm impressed." Belah moved slowly in front of the machine until he was only two feet away from the liquid-like wavering blue light in the middle. "It doesn't matter what you do after I step through that," he said confidently. "Because once I arrive at my destination, I'm going to kill you. And then you won't even have been here."

"Why don't you just kill me now? I'm standing right here before you."

"I suppose I could. After all, I wasn't exactly expecting you to show up on my doorstep."

"Just let her go. She can't do you any harm."

Belah considered for a moment as he stared his enemy down. "No, I don't think so. You see if I let her go that will make you happy. And I simply cannot allow that. And even if I kill you now, there are certain other things I have regretted not doing that I would like to change. No, I think the best solution to my problem is to make sure you die back in 2033, like you were supposed to."

"That doesn't make any sense. You already have control of this entire planet. What more could you want?"

"It's not that I want more than I have, Tracy. You don't understand anything. I want to relive it. To do it all again. The satisfaction I gained from killing your family members is satisfaction I have not found since."

"You are a sick fucking bastard."

Belah laughed. "Farewell, Jeff Tracy. Here's something to remember me by."

With that, Belah pushed Penelope away from his body. Her eyes met Jeff's as Gaat fired. The bullet tore into her head and she fell to the floor with a sickening thud.

"Penny!" Jeff cried, racing forward. "Nooo!"

Belah laughed maniacally and turned to face the time gate. As he fell next to Penelope's body, Jeff caught movement in his peripheral vision. When he looked, he couldn't believe his eyes.

A bright flash of light leapt from his right, across the room, and into Belah's arm. Belah screamed in pain as his arm fell to the floor. He turned, his face a mixture of shock and disbelief as he sank to his knees. Slowly he struggled to grab the pistol from his severed limb as Jeff scrambled from Penny to Brains, who still weakly held the laser rifle in his hands.

"Brains, my God, you're alive."

"I-I...dream..."

"No, Brains, you're not dreaming. I need to get back to the past. I need to stop Scott from landing on that rescue," Jeff said frantically, lifting the engineer's head and shoulders into his arms. "Please, Brains, help me."

A shot rang out and a bullet tore through Jeff's shin. He cried out in agony and grabbed the rifle from Brains' hand. Whirling on his foe, he fired and ripped a hole clean through Belah's skull.

Belah Gaat dropped to the floor, never to move again.

Jeff groaned as blood poured from his leg. "Brains, the machine. Can you get me back to the right time?"

Brains nodded as Jeff ripped his shirt off and tied it in a tourniquet just above his knee. Once finished, he lifted Brains to an almost standing position and hobbled him over to what looked like the machine's control panel.

He lifted the genius' hand to the pad and said, "Come on, Brains. You can do it. Come on."

Brains' fingers moved across the pad ever so slowly. He punched four keys before going limp in Jeff's arms. Jeff lowered him to the floor, tears stinging his eyes. "Was that it? Was that it, Brains? Can I go through now?"

Brains didn't respond. Jeff bowed down and held the man in his arms, his cheek resting against the engineer's. "Please, Brains. How do I know if it's right to go? How?"

"A-Alpha..." Brains' fading voice whispered into his ear. "Gamma..."

Jeff pulled away and looked into eyes that held no more light. He saw the ghost of a smile on Brains' lips as he spoke his last words.

"You...win."

He exhaled slowly, and this time, did not take in another breath. Jeff lowered him gently to the floor, wincing as he came to his feet. He felt lightheaded, and knew he was losing blood fast. He fell against the control panel and saw ten letters. Two of them were A and G.

"Alpha," he said, pressing the A. "Gamma," he said, pressing the G. He moved toward the middle of the machine's frame, but his mangled leg gave way and he fell to the floor. Turning to look behind him, he saw Belah, Penny and Brains, all lying dead. Just then there was a commotion coming from the hall beyond. He heard loud, angry voices speaking a language he didn't know.

He'd forgotten all about whomever was in the helijet.

Jeff Tracy was out of time.

He struggled to his good leg and faced the blue liquid waves. "Now or never," he said, just as six fully armed men rushed into the room. He crouched and then sprang toward the machine.

The six warriors opened fire as Jeff's legs disappeared into the gate. One of them fired a small missile. It hit the control panel, and exploded in a violent display of sparks and fire. Streaks of what could only be described as lightning bolts shot out from the center of the machine, hitting every one of the men in the chest. Their bodies convulsed as they cried out in pain.

Then the lightning turned inward upon itself, hitting the gate's frame. Slowly it began to melt. Slowly the top of it sagged. The blue liquid shot outward, then collapsed back in on itself.

The one person left alive, a warrior who had stayed out near the helijet to guard against further rebel attacks, turned and watched in horror as an explosion ripped through the side of the temple, sending a fireball miles into the night sky. Then another explosion, and all he knew was darkness.

Brains had been listening in on the communications between Thunderbird 1, Thunderbird 2 and Ruth there at Base. Scott was less than fifteen minutes from his destination. The entire time, Brains had been pacing the lab. He knew something wasn't quite right. Everything that had happened had seemed far too perfectly timed for his liking.

Finally he removed his radiation suit, and turned on both the computer and the generator. He flicked on the phase converter and looked at his watch. "Five minutes," he said. "I have to get him back. I have to."

"ETA to Danger Zone now thirteen minutes," Scott said. "Virg, I'll let you know as soon as I land where to put down."

"F.A.B."

"Base, any word from Brains?"

"No, Scott. In fact, Kyrano just tried to call the lab, but he didn't respond."

"Shit. You don't think he's--"

Scott's voice cut Virgil off. "Damn him! Get down there! He's probably trying to open the gate!"

"We're on our way!" Ruth exclaimed as she and Kyrano scurried out of the Lounge.

"Two minutes," Brains whispered. He watched as each second ticked by. Too slowly for his liking. But he had to wait until the time was right. He knew Scott would kill him for doing this, but something told him he had to.

He heard Kyrano calling out to him, but paid no attention.

"One minute."

Brains reached out, his hand hovering over the small screen across which passed number after number after number. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, then opened them and looked at his watch. Ten seconds left.

"Please let this work."

As the second hand slowly hit 12 on his watch, Brains lowered his fingers to the converter. Suddenly he felt something surge through him, an electrical energy the likes of which he'd never felt before. His body stiffened as strange blue waves of light began to appear in front of him, making their way toward his body as though seeking out his warmth.

Thoughts and visions began screaming through his mind as he struggled to maintain lucidity. He felt himself losing control, spiraling into a strange sort of liquid as his eyes fluttered closed. Just as the last tethers to reality began to loose, something slammed right into him, knocking him clear of the converter. He landed hard on the floor and felt it land right on top of him.

Coughing and gasping for air, Brains fought to make his arms and legs move, fought to get whatever was on him, off. He opened his eyes, but his glasses had been knocked clean away, and he could only see enough to tell that the thing atop him wasn't a thing at all. It was a person. He figured someone must have tackled him to get him away from the converter, but it felt too heavy to be either Ruth Tracy or Kyrano.

"Off!" he gasped as he heard the other person groan. Finally he succeeded in pushing himself into a sitting position, while the other person remained covering his legs. He felt around for his glasses and found them an arm's length away. When he put them on and took in the identity of the figure before him, he cried, "Jesus Christ!"

Jeff heard someone yell and fought through the murky depths of unconsciousness. He was alive. He knew it, because he could feel indescribable pain from his leg where Belah had shot him. But who had just yelled? Where was he? Was he still in 2048?

"Mr. Tracy!" Brains cried, pushing the older man off his legs. He knelt next to him as Jeff's eyes fluttered open. "My God, it worked! You're here! Mr. Tracy!"

"Huh?" Jeff moaned as he tried to focus his vision. When the face he was looking at came into view, he was stunned to find that not only was it Brains, but it was a much younger, healthier-looking Brains than the one he'd just seen die. "Brains?"

"Yes!"

"Brains...is that you?"

"Yes, yes! Can you stand?"

"My...my leg."

"What the hell happened?"

"Oh, my God!" Ruth cried as she and Kyrano ran into the lab. "Jeff!"

"Brains...date...what's the date?" Jeff ground out as the engineer helped him to his good leg.

"Date? Uh...it's November, uh...thirteenth."

"Year."

"2033."

Jeff's eyes opened wide. "Where are my sons?"

"On a rescue mission," Ruth said, coming forward and hugging Jeff.

"No," Jeff breathed. "Not to Indonesia."

"Yes," Kyrano nodded. "Why?"

"No!" Jeff yelled, pushing his mother away. The others stared after him as he ran for the exit, ignoring the wound that left a trail of blood behind him. "No! Scott! Scott!"

"What the--?"

"It must be that he knows what will occur," Kyrano offered.

"I knew it!" Brains said. "This rescue! Something goes wrong!"

"Oh, no," Ruth breathed. "Jeff! Wait!"

Jeff's mind raced as he rode the elevator up to the house's main level. He squeezed through the doors before they were even open a foot. Within seconds, he'd made it to his desk in the Lounge, where he slammed the palm of his hand down onto the control panel.

"Scott!" he yelled as his leg finally gave way beneath him. "Scott! Don't land! Goddammit, don't land!"

"Eight minutes out. I have the island in view."

"What're you seeing, Scott?"

"Not a whole helluva lot, Virg. In fact, I don't see any smoke or anything. I thought Alan said this place was raging with fires."

"You mean there's nothing? At all?"

"No."

"Maybe you'd better give Alan a call."

"Maybe." At that moment an emergency channel blared open, squealing in protest as Scott's hands flew to his ears. "What the?

Scott! Scott! Don't land! Goddammit, don't land!

"Father?"

"Scott! Veer west! Now! Do not land on Halmahera!"

"Dad!"

"Do it! There's a missile silo due west of that island! It contains a nuclear missile! Your sensors...pick it up. Destroy it. Destroy it!"

"Holy shit! What the fuck?" Scott yelled as he turned his ship away from the island. "Dad, what's going on? Where are you?"

"Fire delayed missile!" came his father's voice. "And get the hell outta there! And Virgil! Turn back!"

"Jesus Christ, Scott, was that Dad?"

"Do it, Virgil! Turn around now! Fast as you can go back to Base!"

"What the fuck is going on?"

Scott didn't reply. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and neck as he scanned for nuclear weapons. To his surprise, his radar picked one up right away. "Sonofabitch!" He swooped in above his target and fired a time-delay missile. He watched his radar as it buried itself deep into the earth, then turned back the way he'd come. He throttled Thunderbird 1's engines into high gear and sped away as fast as he could.

As his eyes darted down toward the radar, he saw the flash of light which indicated two rapid explosions, one right after the other.

"I'll be damned," he whispered. "Father! Father, can you hear me?"

He received no reply.

"Dad!"

"Scott," came his grandmother's strangled voice through his speakers. "I think you'd better get back here."

"Dad," he whispered.

Jeff could hear hushed voices surrounding him. At first they were all a blur. He could tell there were several, but couldn't tell who they belonged to. He felt strangely like he was floating above his body, and that slowly he was coming back down into it, settling into himself. His eyes fluttered open and the voices fell silent.

He blinked against the bright lights. At first they looked like nothing more than blurry basketballs, but as he focused his eyesight, he realized they were the heads of his loved ones.

His loved ones. They were there. He turned his head from one side to the other. They were all there.

Pulling himself into a sitting position, he took in his mother, Kyrano and Tin-Tin on his left. Around the foot of the bed were Brains, Gordon, John and Alan. Scott and Virgil stood at his right along with both Parker and Penelope.

"You're alive," he whispered. "You're all alive."

"As are you, Jeff," Penelope smiled.

He looked at her face...her beautiful, unmarred face. His hand reached slowly up and touched where he remembered a scar. "Your face," he whispered. Then he turned to look at Brains. Pink-cheeked, his blue eyes were full of life, and a broad smile graced his features.

Jeff's hand covered his mouth as he struggled to contain his emotions. "You're all alive. I don't believe it."

"Dad," Scott said, pushing his way up to sit on the bed next to his father. "Dad, what happened to you?"

"Scott." Jeff reached out, and to everyone's surprise, grabbed his eldest in a fierce hug. "You have no idea."

"Dad," he mumbled into his father's shoulder as Jeff released his hold. "How did you know about the nuclear missile? Did you really travel to the future?"

"What was it like, Dad?" Alan asked from the foot of the bed.

"I did, Scott. I did travel to the future. It was...it was Armageddon. The Hood was in control of everything. We were...you..." Jeff squeezed his eyes closed and exhaled slowly as the willed the images of devastation he'd witnessed away. When he reopened his eyes, he saw looks of concern upon the faces of his loved ones.

"It doesn't matter," he said, smiling, his hand squeezing Scott's shoulder. "It doesn't matter now because that future isn't going to happen."

"You need to rest, Mr. Tracy," Tin-Tin said, tears glistening in her eyes as she gently pushed him back into the pillows. "We can all talk later after you're feeling better."

"No, Tin-Tin. No, I feel just fine. In fact," Jeff said as sat straight up again, "I feel better than fine. But I don't need a bunch of Mother Hens standing around me. Don't you all have Thunderbirds to keep up? And who the hell is manning Thunderbird 5?"

His sons groaned and rolled their eyes, laughing and joking with each other that it seemed like their father was definitely back, and just the same as usual. Ruth hugged her son briefly, and both Kyrano and Parker bowed before leaving the room.

Penelope laid her hand upon his and was surprised when he grabbed it. "Penny," he said softly.

"Jeff, I'm so glad you've returned. When Scott told me you'd disappeared, I didn't know what I'd do with you gone."

"You would've gone on, Penny. You would've gone on, and you would've survived."

"Survived? What are you talking about, Jeff? And why did you mention my face before? Is something the matter with it?"

"No," he smiled, reaching up to touch the smooth, white skin of her cheek. "Nothing is the matter with it. And nothing ever will be the matter with it."

He settled back into the pillows, realizing suddenly that he really was very tired. Penelope just gave him a quizzical look as his eyes closed. She turned to walk out of the hospital ward but stopped as she reached the door.

"Why do I have the feeling, Jeff Tracy, that you have somehow saved the past...and the future?" Then she turned and disappeared into the hall.

Jeff opened his eyes and smiled as a single tear escaped his eye. He knew he would never tell them what he had seen, the horrors that now, would never be. He would keep it hidden away deep inside himself, as a constant reminder of just how precious a thing time was, and how one seemingly insignificant incident or one wrong decision could change millions of lives in the worst way.

For the future, as he saw it, was yet to be known. A clean slate upon which a new history would be written. A history very different from the one he had seen. Blank pages of an unfinished book stretching endlessly into eternity.

The first thing he would do after he took a short nap, was look up an old friend. He wondered, as he drifted off to sleep, if Jen Clarke...and her daughter Dana...were still living in Florida.

Epilogue

If once we close our eyes,
Can we not see the future
Stretching out before us now
In all its glory, shame and beauty,
Vastly reaching back to show
The way to make it change and move?
Can we not as idle passers-by
Do more than gaze upon the stage
Like audience to mad playwright
As puppets dancing through time?
To change our past is but a farce,
But to save ourselves from woeful end...

...Is a wish to save the future

 -- An original poem by LMC written for this story. Please do not reproduce without the author's permission.