UNDER THE INFLUENCE by PURUPUSS RATED FRC

Sometimes it's a looong time between rescues...

Author's Notes: A few weeks ago I went to a show (no, I wasn't part of it) and I was inspired to write this story. I have not tried to imitate Gordon's actions and I don't think I've remembered all the necessary details. So, needless to say, I wouldn't recommend anyone else following Gordon's lead either. I do not own any members of International Rescue or their craft, but I dream about having control over them... Thanks to quiller, D.C., and Dave Upfold for their help and inspiration.

"I don't believe you, Gordon."

Gordon Tracy sat forward on the edge of his bed, an earnest expression on his face as he tried to convince his brothers. "Honest, Scott. One year underwater is a long time..."

"Even if you're part fish?" Alan joked, and patted the cushion behind his head so he would be more comfortable.

Gordon ignored him. "...And being in a bathyscaphe meant that we couldn't exactly pop outside for a stroll. We had to make our own entertainment. One of the other guys knew hypnosis. He taught me."

"Are you telling us," Virgil had one eyebrow raised in bemusement, "that you could hypnotise any one of us and make us do your bidding?"

"Within certain parameters, yes," Gordon confirmed.

"Parameters? What parameters?" Alan asked.

"There's no way that I can make you do anything that you don't want to do... say if it was something that you thought was morally wrong..."

"You mean that there's no way that you could stop Scott from mothering us all the time, simply because he thinks it's his moral duty to do so?" Alan asked.

"That, my brother," Gordon said sagely, "is an excellent example."

"Hey!" Scott complained, trying to ignore Virgil's laughter. "I resent that. I do not mother you guys!"

"Don't even start to go there, Scott," Virgil advised. "You haven't got a hope of winning that argument."

Looking disgruntled, Scott tried to steer things back to the original topic of conversation. "I thought the whole point of hypnosis was to make the person hypnotised do what they wouldn't normally."

"No. It relaxes you so you lose some of your inhibitions," Gordon explained." The guy who taught me said that even the Catholic Church made some statute, or something, a couple of centuries ago saying that as it's a form of relaxation, like sleep, then it's okay." Gordon's brothers gave him a sideways look. "Honest!"

"And you want to hypnotise us," Virgil queried.

"Why not? It's not like we've got anything else to do. We haven't had a rescue in weeks and we've done enough maintenance to last the Thunderbirds till next century. Come on, Guys," Gordon pleaded. "I want to see if I've still got the knack."

Scott gave a rueful shake to his head. "I must be bored because I'm actually curious." He looked at Virgil. "What do you think? Are you game?"

"If I didn't think he's winding us up, I wouldn't even consider it." Virgil shrugged. "Okay. What about you, Alan?"

"I'll give it a go," Alan replied. "I've always been curious about what it would be like to be hypnotised."

"Of course," Virgil folded his arms and sat back in his chair, "there's always the possibility that we're not susceptible to being hypnotised."

"That's true," Gordon agreed. "You guys are that pig-headed that you might not be receptive."

"Well, let's find out." Scott slipped Virgil a surreptitious wink. "What do you want us to do, Gordon?"

Gordon quickly evaluated the scene. "Move your chairs back so you're sitting in a line facing me and I can walk around you all."

Alan looked at him, askance. "You're not going to put 'kick me' signs on our backs, or something, are you?"

Gordon spread his hands in a gesture of honesty. "Now, would I do that?"

"Yes!" Three heads nodded.

Gordon grinned. "Okay, I'll give you that one." He leant over to the head of his bed and waved his hand over a switch. As the wall lights came on he turned on his computer and started flicking through a list of files. "Can you recommend any relaxing music, Virg?"

"Hang on," Virgil entered something into the computer and sweetly melodic music wafted out of the speakers. "How's that?"

"Great. Now I want you to make sure you are all sitting comfortably with your feet flat on the floor and your hands resting on your knees, palms down. Everyone relaxed?"

"I thought that was what you were going to make us do," Virgil said.

"Shush." Gordon pointed at a lamp high up on his wall. "I want you to concentrate on that."

Alan stared at him. "Don't you use a pendulum or swing something in front of our faces?"

"That wasn't the way I was taught," Gordon admitted. "This works though... If my subjects will keep quiet and listen to me instead of interrupting."

"Sorry."

"Okay. As I said, concentrate on that light. All you can see is that light. All you are aware of is that light and my voice."

His three brothers dutifully gazed into the light on the wall.

Gordon stood and began to walk slowly around them, keeping his voice mellow and at an even tone and volume. "Now... I am going to count down... When I reach one you will close your eyes... You won't move any other muscle except for closing your eyes... You are beginning to relax... Five... ... Four... ... Three... ... Two... ... One..."

"Thunderbirds are go!"

"Alan!"

"Be quiet!"

"How can we even begin to relax if you're being silly?"

Alan ducked his head in apology. "Sorry. I'll concentrate."

Gordon sighed. "We'll have to go back to the beginning. Watch the light..." He began the induction again. "Your eyes are closed..." he intoned. "You are relaxing even more... ... You are aware of nothing except my voice... ... You are totally relaxed..." He tapped Alan on the shoulder and then, when the blonde opened his eyes in surprise, winked and laid his finger on his lips.

Alan grinned at sat back to observe proceedings.

Gordon turned his attention back to his two elder brothers. "You are becoming more and more relaxed. Now focus on the back of your head... ... Imagine you are looking through the back of your head... ... Focus your eyes... ... Focus... ... Five... ... Four... ... Three... ... Two... ... One... ... Now, slowly lower your head... ... It is getting heavier and heavier... ... Let it relax..."

Obediently Scott and Virgil relaxed. Their heads dropped until their chins were resting against their chests.

"Continue to focus on the back of your head... ... You are completely relaxed... ... Five... ... Four... ... Three... ... Two... ... One... ... Raise your hands..."

Zombie-like four hands were raised into the air until they were held horizontally in front.

"Imagine something is resting on your right hand... it is getting heavier and heavier. Your left hand is getting lighter and lighter..." Two right hands started to descend slowly as two left hands began to rise.

Wide-eyed, Alan looked at Gordon.

"You are going to sleep... ... Deeper and deeper... ..." Standing behind Virgil, whispering something that Alan couldn't catch, Gordon placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and gently rocked him from side-to-side. Virgil's head offered no resistance as it wobbled, puppet like, on his shoulders.

Now Gordon stood behind Scott. He repeated the swaying action, whispered again, and then reached over to pick up Scott's right hand by the wrist. He let go and the arm flopped back onto Scott's leg.

Gordon grinned at Alan. "Looks like I have control."

Alan pointed to himself and mimed something.

"You can talk now," Gordon informed him. "They'll only hear me. See... Scott, open your eyes and look straight ahead." Scott obeyed.

Alan waved his hand in front of unseeing eyes. "Are you sure they're not pretending?"

"Pretty sure," Gordon replied. "But I'll send him deeper to make sure... Give me your hand, Scott... Take a deep breath..." The elder Tracy obeyed as Gordon thrust his hand upwards before dropping it. "Sleep!" Scott's eyes closed and his headed lolled to one side. "I'd say he's gone."

Alan shook his head in wonderment. "Now what are you going to do?"

"Have some fun." Gordon placed his hand on Virgil's knee. "Look at me." Virgil opened his eyes and stared at his brother; brown eyes expressionless. "Repeat after me... 'Thunderbird Four is the best, most useful, craft in International Rescue's fleet."

"Thunderbird Four is the best, most useful, craft in International Rescue's fleet," Virgil intoned.

"Repeat after me... 'Thunderbird Three is good too'."

"Thunderbird Three is good too."

"'Thunderbird Two is a heap of junk.'"

"Thunderbird Two is a heap of junk."

Alan laughed and clapped his hand over his mouth. "I can't believe it! Never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd hear Virgil say that about Thunderbird Two. He's definitely gone."

"I told you he was... Give me your hand, Virgil." Gordon took hold of a limp hand. "Take a deep breath... Sleep!" Virgil's head lolled as his hand slipped off his lap and flopped by his side.

"This is freaky," Alan said.

"Any suggestions of what we can get them to do?" Gordon asked.

"Umm..." Alan bit his lip as he thought. "I don't know. What can you get them to do?"

"Let's see." Gordon touched his hibernating brothers on the knee. "You are going to think that I am having injections in my butt. You are going to see the needle. You are going to feel the needle. Every time the needle goes into my bottom you will feel the pain in your bottom. Rubbing it is the only way you have of trying to make the pain go away... Open your eyes and look at me..." Supposedly ignoring his elder brothers he turned to Alan. "Did Brains give you your inoculations the other day, Alan? He gave me mine. You should have seen the needle! It wasthis big!" He held up two fingers, the empty space between them about five centimetres wide. "And Brains jammed it into my butt just like this!" He mimed plunging a needle into his behind.

There were twin howls from Scott and Virgil and they both started rubbing at the sites of their perceived pains.

"And then," Gordon continued on, "he got an even bigger needle."

Playing along, Alan pretended to be amazed. "Really?"

"I'm not kidding. It was this big!" Now Gordon's fingers were ten centimetres apart. "And, I'm telling ya, Alan. Brains showed no mercy. He just rammed it in like this!" To the accompaniment of further yelps, and Alan's laughter, he once again mimed the vaccination.

"It hurts, doesn't it, Fellas? The only way you can make it feel better to is rub each other's butts. Rub! You've got to make it feel better." Desperate for relief, Scott and Virgil were practically climbing over each other as they tried to erase the pain. "Sleep!"

The two victims collapsed back into their seats.

Delighted by what he'd just witnessed, Alan grinned at the hypnotist. "Now what are you going to get them to do?"

"See the impossible." Gordon removed a book from a shelf and showed Alan. ""Arctic Life"... Let's see how much life he's got... Scott," he touched his brother on the forehead. "You can't see me. You can't see Alan. Remember that we are invisible. You can't see me. You can't see Alan. Now, open your eyes."

Scott obeyed. A startled expression crossed his face as Gordon moved the book about the room as if it were floating unaided in mid-air. Trying to maintain his distance between himself and the phantom tome, the elder Tracy pushed back in his chair.

Gordon tossed the book towards his brother. Rather than catching it as he normally would have done, Scott took evasive action. Both he and the chair ended up sprawled on the floor.

"Pick up your chair and sit down, Scott," Gordon instructed.

"Did he really think it was flying?" Alan asked.

"Yep." Gordon sent Scott back into a deep sleep. "Now, what are we going to do with Virgil?" He smiled. "I know. Virgil..." he touched a relaxed knee. "Open your eyes." He pressed on his brother's forehead. "You will forget the number two. No matter what you are asked to do, you will not remember the number two."

"Two?" Alan queried.

"Just wait," Gordon's smile broadened. "Okay, Virgil. Hold both hands out front of you. How many fingers do you have?"

"Ten."

"Good. Now count backwards from ten on your fingers." Gordon indicated how his brother should begin. "Ten..."

Virgil pointed to his right thumb. "Ten..." He pointed at his index finger. "Nine..." The middle finger was indicated. "Eight..." His hand moved again. "Seven... Six..." Index finger touched pinkie and then his right hand became the pointer. "Five... Four... Three... T..." He frowned and tried again. "T..."

"Come on, Virgil," Gordon cajoled. "You can do this. "How many fingers are on your hands?"

"Ten."

"Count them backwards."

"Ten..." Virgil began counting again until he reached his index finger. "????" He pulled his hands in closer to his body and looked at them. "Three..." A puzzled expression crossed his face.

"Count them the normal way."

"One... ???" Trying to remember the missing number, Virgil frowned at his index finger.

"It's three, isn't it," Gordon reminded him.

"Yes!" Virgil's face brightened. "Three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten..." Bemused he looked at his hands. "Eleven?"

"I thought you said you had ten fingers, Virgil," Gordon said. "Count again."

"One... Um...?"

"Three."

"Three, four..." Virgil carried on counting on his fingers until he once again got to the number eleven. "Huh?"

"Never mind that," Gordon soothed. "What is the name of your International Rescue plane?"

Virgil smiled. "Thunderbird..." The puzzled expression returned and he resumed his inspection of his fingers. "One..."

"Virgil." Gordon pulled Alan to his feet as he stood. "How many people are sitting down?"

"???"

"Can you count them?"

Virgil pointed to himself. "One." He pointed to Scott. "T..." He retained the bemused expression as he pointed again at the oblivious Scott. "One." He pointed back at himself and frowned. "???"

"Which Thunderbird do you fly?" Gordon asked.

"Thunderbird... ah... Thunderbird..."

"This is minty!" Alan exclaimed.

"He's happy." Gordon indicated Virgil who looked more confused than happy. "We'll leave him for a bit. Time to work on big brother again." He peered into Scott's face. "What are we going to do with you...? Ah! I know." He made sure his victim was still in a deep trance. "You are a marionette. You have strings attached to your arms, legs and head. Alan is your puppeteer. You can only move when he moves your strings... Now, look at Alan, Scott." Blue eyes stared at the youngest Tracy blankly. "Off you go, Alan. Make believe he's strung up and you're moving him about."

At first unsure if it was going to work, Alan pretended to hold onto a wire above Scott's right arm. He moved his hand to his right and Scott's followed suit.

Alan's face lit up in wonder. "This is amazing!"

"Do something else," Gordon prompted.

Alan pretended to hold the string 'attached' to Scott's other arm and swung both hands apart, before bringing them together. He repeated the action. "Come on, Scotty. Show your appreciation for Gordon's talents."

"Thank you." Gordon bowed at the 'applause'.

Getting carried away, Alan swung his, and Scott's, hand out wide, hitting Virgil firmly on the upper arm. Virgil, still trying to decipher the name of that elusive number between one and three, didn't bat an eyelid.

"You know," Alan eventually stood back and surveyed his 'marionette'. "If he weren't so tall I'd try to see what he could do standing."

"You only need to ask." Gordon got a stool and positioned it in front of Scott. "There ya go."

Alan climbed onto the stool and pretended to pull on the strings. "On your feet, Scott." Looking somewhat uncoordinated, Scott got to his feet and stood there, swaying slightly. Alan grinned. "How good a dancer are you, Scotty?" he asked the oblivious man. "Move your right foot... Now your left..." Like a puppet with an inexperienced puppeteer Scott performed a jiggling dance. "This is great! All my life he's told me what to do, and now I'm able to manipulate him!"

Gordon was laughing. "You know what would be even better?"

Alan made Scott stand on one leg. "No?"

"If we had a bigger audience."

"Bigger audience?" Alan lost concentration, dropped his arms, and Scott sagged.

"Yep! Just let me cut him down." Gordon mimed using a pair of hedge clippers above Scott's head and the 'marionette' collapsed onto the floor.

"You'll hurt him if you're not careful," Alan warned.

"Nah. He's okay. He's totally relaxed. Aren't you, Scott? Sit in your chair." Gordon turned back to Virgil who was still perplexedly studying his fingers, and laid his hand on his knee. "Sleep... ... Virgil... I am going to count down from ten... When I reach two, you will remember the number two. When I reach one, you will, to all intents and purposes, appear to be awake. For the next hour you will behave absolutely normally. You will act as if nothing strange has happened. You will forget that you are in a hypnotic trance. But you will be frightened of flowers..."

Alan stared at him. "Flowers?"

"Shhhh.... Listen, Virgil. The very thought of flowers will fill you with dread. You hate flowers. You will remain afraid of flowers until..." Gordon looked at his watch, "4:15 pm. Then you will awaken and feel refreshed, with no memory of what happened in this room after I began the induction process."

"Flowers?" Alan repeated. "But he's not frightened of anything."

"He will be for the next hour..." Now Gordon switched his attention to his eldest brother. "Scott... I am going to count down from ten. When I reach one you will to all intents and purposes appear to be awake. For the next hour you will behave absolutely normally. You will act as if nothing strange has happened. You will forget that you are in a hypnotic trance. But whenever you tell one of your brothers to do something you will cluck like a chicken."

Alan sat in thought. "I know Scott's an old mother hen, but what if he doesn't tell us to do anything? It's going to be a pretty boring hour."

"Well done, Igor." Gordon hunched over in his best mad scientist impersonation; rubbing his hands together and leering over them. "I see my pupil has been learning well... What else can we get him to do...?" Reinforcing the suggestion he was about to make, Gordon touched his brother on the shoulder. "Scott," he instructed. "Not only will you cluck like a chicken when you give your brothers an order, but when you receive an order from your father you will bray like a donkey..."

Alan laughed.

Gordon had another idea. "Virgil... At the same time that you are frightened of flowers you will have forgotten how to play the piano. You won't remember how to make sound come out of the instrument. You will have forgotten everything you have ever been taught."

"That's a bit cruel, isn't it?" Alan stared at the hypnotist. "What's he done to you?"

"Trust me, Alan. Once it's 4:15 he won't remember a thing about this experience and neither will Scott. Now..." he gave a wicked grin. "What else can we get Scotty-boy to do?"

Alan sat back, a small frown of concern creasing his face. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"Relax, Alan. Or do I have to hypnotise you too?" Unconcerned by his brother's misgivings, Gordon turned back. "Scott... Whenever anyone says the word 'Thunderbird' you will pretend that you are a plane, complete with sound effects, and you will fly right around the room."

"What's Dad going to think?" Alan asked.

"Finding that out is going to be part of the fun," Gordon chuckled. Satisfied that he'd created enough entertainment for the next hour, he reinforced the hypnotic suggestions, repeating the 4:15 deadline. Then he sat back. "There!"

"What if we have a call out?" Alan asked. "You can't have Scott running around the cabin of Thunderbird One if International Rescue is required before 4:15."

"Good point," Gordon agreed. "I'll programme them to snap out of it if the alarm goes off." Once the final bit of housekeeping was completed he sat back in satisfaction. "Done!"

Alan wasn't sure about the plan. "I hope you know what you're doing, Gordon," he repeated.

"Relax! I'm doing them a favour. They'll feel great once they wake up in an hour's time. And if we do get a call out in the meantime, they'll be full of energy and raring to go and won't remember all this stuff we got them to do. We've got nothing to worry about."

"If you're sure..."

Gordon laughed at his little brother's insecurities. "I'm sure. Now, don't worry. I've got it all under control..." He rubbed his hands together again. "Time to 'wake' the Sleeping Beauties. Ready...?" He winked at Alan. "Scott... Virgil... As I count down from ten you will appear to awaken. You will not remember being hypnotised. You will not consciously remember the instructions I have given you; but you will act on them until 4:15pm or the rescue alarm sounds. Ten..."

Alan bit his lip as uncertainty wormed its way around his insides.

"Nine... ... Eight... ... Seven... ... You are waking up... ... Six... ... Five... ..."

Eyelids flickered.

"Four... ... Three... ... Two... ... One... ... Awake!"

Scott and Virgil opened their eyes. They grinned at their brothers. "Guess it didn't work, huh, Gordon," Scott laughed.

Gordon tried to appear disappointed. "I guess you're right."

"I didn't think it would," Virgil stated.

"Honestly, it worked when I was in the bathyscaphe," Gordon insisted, holding his hands out as if he was begging to be believed. "I even had one guy thinking he was a marionette. He was dancing just like a puppet!"

Scott laughed. "That I would have loved to have seen. What do you think went wrong? Are you out of practice or are we," he grinned at Virgil, "too strong-willed for you?"

Gordon pretended to be in reluctant agreement. "I think you must be right, Scott. You guys are too clever for me."

Virgil reached over to give his younger brother a comforting pat. "Never mind," he said, and frowned slightly as he felt a twinge in a muscle. "At least we can say that your game killed a couple of minutes."

"But that's all." Scott rubbed the back of his neck. "I hate to say it, but I wish someone would get into trouble so we could rescue them. Nothing exciting ever happens at home." He spied a book resting on the floor by his chair; its pages open at a photograph of some bears. He bent down to pick it up. "Can't you take better care of your things?" He handed it back to Gordon. "You should look after books. Bwoook-bok-bok-bok."

Hearing his brother cluck like a chicken, Alan choked back a laugh, but Gordon kept control of his emotions. "It flew there of its own accord," he protested.

Scott chuckled. "Yeah, right." He looked at his watch and shook it. "3:15. I didn't think it was that late." He shrugged.

Virgil had rolled up his sleeve. "I thought so!" he exclaimed as he examined a darkened bit of skin. "How come whenever you find a bruise you can never remember how you got it, but whenever you think you're going to get one, you don't?"

Scott frowned and rubbed his elbow. "That's funny... I think I'm getting one too."

"Why don't you go see if Dad wants you to do anything, Scott?" Gordon suggested. "He might have a job or two that'll kill the time between now and dinner."

"Good idea," Scott agreed. "What are you going to do, Virgil?"

"I think I'll do a bit of painting."

"Why don't you put some Arnica on that bruise first?Bwoook-bok-bok-bok."

Pretending to have a coughing fit, Alan stifled a laugh.

"Good idea," Virgil agreed, unconcerned by his brother's sound effects. "What are you two going to do?"

"Go down to the lounge," Gordon said. "I've got a feeling that something interesting is going to happen very soon."

"So you not only have hypnotic powers, you're clairvoyant too," Virgil laughed. "At least life's never dull with you around, Gordon."

"That's the idea," Gordon whispered to Alan as they followed their elder brothers out into the hall.

Their first stop was the sickbay; where Scott, clucking like the mother hen that his brothers believed him to be, helped Virgil apply some Arnica to the watch-face sized bruise that was mysteriously appearing on his arm. Then the four of them traipsed down to the lounge.

This was when things started to get really interesting.

"Boys," Jeff glanced up from where he was working at his desk. "Have you run out of things to do?"

"I have," Scott admitted. "Have you got anything I can help you with?"

Jeff looked at his watch. "We've still got a couple of hours until dinner. Would you mind getting me a cup of coffee?" He picked up his pen again.

"Hee-haw."

Jeff's pen froze in mid-air. This was an uncharacteristic reaction from his eldest, especially combined with the fact that Scott hadn't moved. He looked around the room and noticed that none of his sons seemed to think that anything was amiss. Thinking that maybe he hadn't been heard the first time he repeated his request for coffee.

"Hee-haw."

Jeff laid down the pen and gazed at his son who was gazing back with an expectant expression on his face. "What did you say?"

Scott looked him blankly. "Nothing."

"Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't."

"I clearly heard you say 'hee-haw' twice."

Scott blinked. "What?"

"You brayed like a donkey."

"No, I didn't."

"Scott," Jeff took a deep breath, "you definitely sounded like a donkey."

"Me?" Scott grinned as if he was in on his father's joke. "Why would I do that?"

"That's what I was wondering."

Scott appealed to his brother. "Virgil, did I sound like a donkey?"

"Sound like one?" Virgil laughed. "You act like one often enough."

"Virgil." Scott folded his hands in disapproval. "If you're not going to be sensible, go and play the piano or something."

Jeff was startled to hear a clucking sound. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Me?" Scott looked astounded. "I'm feeling fine. Why?"

"Because you just made a noise like a chicken."

Having hidden themselves behind one of the oriental screens, Alan and Gordon collapsed on each other in fits of silent laughter.

"I 'made a noise like a chicken'," Scott repeated slowly. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did. You told Virgil to play the piano and then you clucked like a chicken."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did!" Jeff was reaching the end of his tether.

"I didn't hear him," Virgil said.

"I thought you were going to play the piano!" Jeff said.

"I would if someone would show me how to."

"Scott, you..." As Virgil's words penetrated Jeff's brain he turned to his son, who was sitting in his usual place at the baby grand. "What did you say, Virgil?"

"He said he wants someone to show him how to play the piano," Scott offered.

Jeff took a breath to calm down. "Be quiet for a moment, Scott."

"Hee-haw."

Only just managing to keep it together, Jeff left the confines of his desk and slowly walked over to the piano. The lid was closed. "Virgil?" he asked quietly. "Are you feeling all right?"

Virgil beamed at him. "Never felt better. Now, how does this work again?"

"You lift the lid." Totally bemused and beginning to feel out of his depth, Jeff demonstrated. "Like that. Okay?"

"Thanks." Virgil favoured his father with a bright smile.

Wondering what was wrong with his household, Jeff returned to his desk. He picked up some folders. "What were you boys doing this morning," he muttered. "Scott?"

"Yes?"

"Were you working on Thunderbird One..."

He was startled when, making a noise like an aeroplane's engine, Scott spread his arms wide and ran around the lounge. He came to rest in front of the desk and smiled at his father as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

"Why did you do that?" Jeff asked.

"Why did I do what?"

"Never mind." Jeff was starting to feel the beginnings of a headache. "Ah!" He removed a folder. "It says here you were working on the Firefly this morning."

"That's right," Scott agreed.

"Did... Did anything, ah, strange happen?"

"Strange?" Scott repeated. "No. All I was doing was cleaning and a little painting."

"Ah!" Jeff hoped he was on to something. "Did you notice anything out of the ordinary with the paint?"

"No." Scott shook his head. "It was fine."

"It didn't smell different?"

"No. The same as usual."

Jeff decided that that was something he needed to check out for himself. He opened another file. "Let's see... Virgil was working in Thunderbird Two..."

"Nnnnnyaaarrrrr." The aeroplane known as Scott Tracy did another lap of the room.

Jeff ran his hand through his hair and resisted the temptation to pull some of it out. Something was definitely wrong. He couldn't see his two youngest almost splitting their sides in silent laughter. He tried again. "Do you know what Virgil was doing in Thunderbird...?"

"Nnnnnyaaarrrrr."

"Scott! Stop that!"

"Hee-haw."

"And that!"

"What?"

Virgil spoke up. "I think you're upsetting him for some reason, Scott."

"Virgil!" Scott rounded on him. "Play the piano and keep out of this.Bwook-bok-bok-bok."

"But, I don't know how to play the piano," Virgil protested.

"Oh," Scott gave an unconcerned shrug. "Fair enough."

"Did you hear what Virgil said, Scott?" Jeff asked.

"Yes. He said he doesn't know how to play the piano."

"And that doesn't worry you?"

"No? Why should it?"

Jeff leant on his desk, breathing heavily. "What's wrong with you boys?!"

Scott and Virgil looked at their father in concern. "Are you all right?" they asked.

Off to one side of the room, Alan, dabbing tears of laughter from his eyes, pulled on Gordon's sleeve. "What about the flowers?" he whispered.

Gordon chuckled and pointed past the screen. "Coming right up."

Grandma had entered the room wiping her hands on her floral apron. "Apple pie for dessert," she announced.

Virgil visibly paled. "Grandma..."

She gave him a gentle smile. "What, Dear?"

"D-Don't move."

Grandma's smile melted into a frown. "Why, Virgil?"

"F-Flowers... On your apron."

Grandma looked down as if she'd just noticed. "Yes, there are." She smoothed some creases out.

Virgil was on his feet. "Don't touch them!"

Grandma's frown deepened. "Why?"

"Take it off," Virgil instructed.

"Why?" Grandma repeated. "It was clean on today. I've only made a couple of pies."

"The flowers! They're... They're moving."

"Don't be silly, Virgil. It's an apron. It moves when I move."

Virgil turned to his father and Scott. Jeff was looking as if he was beginning to lose contact with reality, while his brother was smiling a benign smile. "Can't someone help her?" Virgil begged.

"Help me? Why?" Grandma queried. "I'm not helpless."

Virgil took a breath and let out a yell. "I'll save you, Grandma!" He rushed at her, pulled at the ties of the apron and then, holding it at arms length, dashed out onto the patio. He dropped the offending article over the balcony and watched as it fluttered harmlessly towards the ground. "Die, flowers!" he yelled after it.

Grandma turned to her son. "Jeff? What's going on?" When he made a gesture that showing that he had no idea and she humphed a reply. "Virgil Tracy! Go get my apron... Now!"

Virgil gave her a look as if as he didn't know what she was talking about. "Grandma? What apron?"

"The one you just threw off the patio."

"The oneI threw off the patio?"

Grandma Tracy stood there, hands on hips. "Don't talk back to me, my boy. Go get my apron!"

"Virgil," Jeff said in a quiet voice. "Your grandmother's apron is outside. Would you please go and get it?"

Virgil gave a bemused shrug. "Sure."

"Jefferson! What is going on?"

"I don't know, Mother. I wish I did..."

There was a shriek from outside the villa. "Flowers!" A blur came rushing inside, scooted behind his father's desk and cowered there, using Jeff as a shield. "Flowers everywhere," Virgil whimpered.

"I'm sorry, Virgil," Jeff said as he remembered Kyrano's floral borders. "I didn't think."

"Flowers," Virgil repeated. "L-Look!" He pointed a quivering hand towards an innocuous vase sitting on a low coffee table. "Horrible slimy tentacles reaching out to me." He gave a visible shudder.

"Calm down," Jeff repeated, not knowing if he was more worried about Virgil's sudden phobia or Scott's complete lack of fraternal concern. "Relax. Nothing's going to happen to you." He grabbed his wide-eyed son by the wrists, and felt a surge of alarm. "Virgil! Your pulse is racing!" He felt a sweating forehead. "You're sick! Scott, go get Brains."

"Hee-haw."

"D-Don't let the flowers get me."

"Get rid of those flowers Scott!" Jeff commanded.

"Hee-haw."

"Oh, for Pete's sake!" Grandma picked up the offending vase. "What's wrong with you boys?"

"D-Don't touch them, Grandma," Virgil begged.

"Mother," Jeff tried to sound calm and in control. "Would you mind taking them somewhere?"

Muttering, "I knew flying at those speeds wasn't good for them," Grandma removed the vase to the kitchen.

Stifling another laugh, Gordon looked at his watch. Then he made a gesture to Alan. "Come on," he whispered. "Time we got out of here. We want to be well clear when they snap out of it."

"Amen to that," Alan agreed.

Jeff felt Virgil pull free of his grasp. "Why don't you go and lie down?" he suggested.

Virgil, now appearing to be completely normal, stared at his father. "Why?"

"I thought you were ill."

Virgil gave him a strange look. "No, I feel fine."

"Are you sure you are feeling all right?" Jeff pressed.

Concerned, Virgil glanced at Scott and then looked back at his father. "I was going to ask you the same thing." He stepped out from the confines of the desk as another sound invaded the lounge. "Someone had better see what John wants."

The eyes in John's portrait had started flashing and Jeff offered up a silent prayer that International Rescue's services weren't needed as he initiated contact. "Go ahead, Thunderbird Five."

"Nnnyaaarrrr."

Jeff grimaced at the sound.

Jeff's second son watched his elder brother do a lap of the lounge. "Uh... Dad?"

Jeff sighed. "Yes, John, what can I do for you?"

"Hi, John," Virgil had retreated to the baby grand. "When you come home can you show me how to use the piano?"

"Use the piano...?"

"Why have you called us, John?" Jeff asked, trying to maintain some semblance of normality.

Still stunned what he was seeing and hearing, John seemed in a daze. "I...uh... I've forgotten."

"Don't you start," Jeff pleaded.

"What's going on?"

"I have absolutely no idea."

"Then why did..."

"I have absolutely no idea," Jeff repeated. "Please tell me that International Rescue aren't needed."

John pulled himself together. "No. I only wanted to warn you that I'm getting low on some supplies. Thunderbird..."

"Nnnnyarrr."

"Scott! Stop doing that!"

"Hee-haw."

"Would someone please show me how to use the piano?"

"Press a key, Virg. Bwook-bok-bok-bok."

"What's a key?"

"Scott! Shut up!" Jeff gave an audible groan when he heard the inevitable,'hee-haw'. "When will I learn?"

"Ah... Dad?"

"Give us your report, John," Scott commanded before doing his chicken impersonation

"What?!"

"John?" Not receiving a response, Jeff had to repeat his son's name.

John shook himself out of his reverie. "What?"

"You were saying?" Jeff sounded tired. "Something about Th..." he caught himself, "ah... the space station needing some supplies?"

"Dad? Is everything okay?"

"I have absolutely no idea," Jeff admitted for the third time. "Things have gone a bit crazy here and I don't know why."

"I'd noticed."

"Scott, will you and Virgil go wait in my study?" Jeff requested.

"Hee-haw."

Jeff groaned and resisted the temptation to hit himself on the forehead. "I should have known... Virgil, will you and Scott go and wait in my study?"

"Sure, Father," Virgil agreed. "Then when we've finished in there will you show me how to use the piano?"

Jeff replied with a resigned, "Yes, Virgil."

"You press one of the keys, Virgil," Scott instructed and clucked.

"Oh, okay," Virgil smiled.

"Did he say what I thought he said?" John asked.

"What's a key?" Virgil repeated.

"Those black and white things; press one of them. Bwook-bok-bok-bok."

Jeff had had enough. He snapped. "Will you both go to my study!" he yelled.

"Okay," Virgil acquiesced. "Come on, Scott."

"Show me that you can play a note first. Bwook-bok-bok-bok."

Tin-Tin entered the room. She was wearing a sky blue dress, decorated with a single yellow chrysanthemum that grew up from the hem and bloomed on the bodice.

With a yelp of "flower!" a terrified Virgil ran from the room.

Tin-Tin stared after him. "What?"

"Please, don't ask, Tin-Tin," Jeff begged. "You don't know how lucky you were."

She gave her employer a blank look. "I've reprogrammed Thunderbird..."

Arms outstretched, engine noises at full throttle, Scott ran around the lounge.

Tin-Tin watched him in bewilderment. "...Three's tracking computer."

"Good. Thank you, Tin-Tin. Ah... Would you mind doing me a favour? Would you ask Scott," Jeff indicated the young man who was now standing placidly next to him with an expectant look on his face, "to go and wait in my study?"

"But he's here, Mr Tracy."

"I know he's...!" Jeff took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Honey, I didn't mean to yell. I'll explain later. Just do it... Please?"

Tin-Tin gave him a strange look and then turned to his son. "Scott. Will you wait in Mr Tracy's study, please?"

Scott favoured her with a smile. "Sure thing, Honey." He strode out of the room.

"Thank you, Tin-Tin," Jeff sighed. "Would you mind if I asked you another favour?"

"Of course not, Mr Tracy." Tin-Tin looked worried as she saw his strained expression. "What can I do for you?"

"Would you go and get Brains and ask him to meet me in my study?"

"Brains is on the other side of the island," Tin-Tin reminded him.

"Well, ask him to hurry, would you," Jeff requested. "Then maybe you'll check that Virgil's in my study too..." He checked himself. "No, that might not be a good idea. Don't worry, just get Brains for me, please. I want a word with John."

"Yes, Mr Tracy." Tin-Tin gave a slight bow, shared a worried glance with International Rescue's space monitor, and left the lounge.

"Okay, Dad," John said. "Now you can tell me. What's happening?"

"I have absolutely no idea," Jeff repeated for what seemed to be the hundredth time. "All of a sudden Virgil's forgotten how to play the piano and seems to have developed a fear of flowers."

John stared at him. "Virgil?"

Jeff nodded. "Yes."

"Afraid?"

"Yes."

"Offlowers??"

"Yes."

"And Scott's started braying like a donkey?"

"Yes, and clucking like a chicken."

"And running around the room making airplane noises?"

"Yes."

John grinned. "Are you sure Grandma hasn't been putting too much sherry in the trifle, Dad?"

"This isn't funny, John," Jeff growled. "It could be serious! Every time I ask him to do something, Scott makes a sound like a donkey!"

A light bulb went on in John's mind. "Every time you ask him to do something?"

Jeff frowned. "Yes, that's right."

"And when does he do the plane impersonation?"

"When?" Jeff asked.

"Yes. Is there a trigger? Does someone say something, do something..."

"Let me think..." Jeff's brow was furrowed in deep creases. "I think... I think it was every time someone says the word 'Thunderbird'. Remember? The minute Tin-Tin mentioned Thunderbird Three he 'took off'."

"Ah." The way John uttered the syllable made Jeff think he knew the solution. "And what's the trigger for the chicken noises?"

"I don't know." Jeff collapsed into his seat. "You know what's happening, John? What is it?"

John declined to give him an immediate answer. "Where are my youngest brethren while all this is going on?"

"Alan and Gordon?" Jeff's frown increased in depth as he thought. "They were here initially, but I don't know where they are now. Why? They can't have anything to do with what's wrong with Scott and Virgil... Can they?"

"I'm not sure about Alan," John admitted. "But I'd bet a year's salary that Gordon's behind it."

"Gordon?!" Jeff's frown caused his eyebrows to nearly obliterate his eyes. "How?"

"Remember how I missed out on Gordon's welcome home, after he'd spent the year in the bathyscaphe?"

Jeff nodded. "You couldn't get away from work."

"That's right. So we caught up a week later. We stayed in a hotel."

Jeff wondered what this had to do with anything.

"Well," John continued, and looked somewhat embarrassed. "While he was telling me about what he'd been doing, he let slip that one of the other guys in the bathyscaphe had taught him hypnosis..."

"Hypnosis! Surely not."

"I'm not joking. And he asked if he could try and hypnotise me, to see if he could do it on people above the high tide mark."

"You're kidding!" Jeff exclaimed.

"I wish I was," here John looked even more embarrassed, "Anyway, I was that pleased to see him again, that I agreed. Next thing I know, I'm in the corridor of the hotel, wearing nothing but my shorts, and kissing a pot plant!"

Jeff felt the corners of his mouth twitch at the mental image.

"He may have just surfaced after spending a year underwater," John growled, "but at that point I could have quite happily held his head back under for another year. I was lucky that no one came along the corridor when I was out there... At least I think no one was there," he remembered. "I got some funny looks from the staff the following day."

"Any you're sure he hypnotised you?" Jeff asked.

"Uh, huh. I have no idea what else he got me to do. I can't remember and he refused to tell me. But he seemed very pleased with himself."

"I can imagine. So you think he's hypnotised Scott and Virgil?"

"Things have been pretty slow for the last few weeks and everyone's been getting bored. I'd wager anything you like on it."

"If what you're saying is true," Jeff scowled, "it's irresponsible of him. What if International Rescue had had a call out?"

"Gordon's mischievous, but he's not stupid. I'm pretty sure he would have done something to make sure they came right if that happened. Also, he'd be hoping to be as far away from the pair of them as it's possible to get when they 'wake up', so he'll have programmed them with some kind of remote controlled 'alarm clock'."

The clock in the hall chimed quarter past.

John gave his father an earnest look. "Don't you think that if they hadn't had anything to do with it, they would have hung around to see what they could do to help? But if, as I suspect, they are behind all this, a strong sense of self-preservation would mean that they'd want to get as far away as possible." He checked his scanners. "Ah, I thought so. They're a couple of bays away from the house."

"I suppose you could be right, John." Jeff stood. "I'd better go check on the boys. I only hope they haven't trashed my study."

"Mind if I join you, Dad? I'd like to see if my theory is correct."

The study was in the same tidy state as it had been when Jeff last left it, and a bewildered Scott and Virgil were sitting in the comfortable chairs. They got to their feet when they saw their father and waited expectantly.

"Relax, Boys." Jeff gestured for them both to sit down as he brought John's video image up on the computer on his desk. Then he sat in his own plush chair and regarded his two Earth-bound sons. "I hope I'm not going to regret this... Thunderbird." Two young men looked at him in bemusement. He held out a ballpoint. "Take this pen, Scott."

Looking even more bemused, Scott took the pen. "Now what?"

"Give it back to me." Jeff took the implement and drew a quick sketch on his pad. "What's this, Virgil?" He handed his son the notebook.

Virgil looked at the drawing and then back up at his father as if he had concerns about the latter's sanity. "It's a drawing of a flower."

"And what do you think about it?"

Virgil looked at the picture again. "Do you want me to give you a critique of your artwork?"

Scott frowned. "Are you feeling all right?"

"I was going to ask you two the same thing."

"Huh?" Virgil stared at the older man.

"How are you feeling?" Jeff asked.

His sons looked at each other. "Fine, Father," Scott said.

"Never felt better," Virgil admitted.

"Relaxed?" John asked. "As if you've just had one of the best sleeps of your lives?"

His brothers shared another bemused glance. "Well, yes," Scott agreed. "I do feel pretty relaxed."

"Me too," Virgil nodded.

"I think they're back under autonomous control, Dad," John said.

"Huh?" Scott stared at his brother's image. "What are you talking about?"

Jeff leant forward on his desk and clasped his hands together. "Have you been talking to Gordon about hypnosis?"

Scott and Virgil laughed. "Yeah, we have," Scott admitted. "He made this crazy claim that he could hypnotise us. It didn't work, of course."

"Are you sure about that?" Jeff asked. "What have you been doing for the past hour?"

"Well, I've... Ah..." Virgil looked at his watch. Then he shook it and held it close to his ear. "That can't be the time... It must be broken."

"What time do you think it is, Virgil?" Jeff looked at his own watch.

"Uh... About quarter past two?" Scott nodded his agreement.

"It's half past four. What have you both been doing the last two hours?"

"I... ah..." Scott frowned a perplexed frown. "Last thing I remember is talking to Alan and Gordon."

"About hypnosis." Jeff relaxed back in his seat. "I hate to tell you this, Boys, but you have been hypnotised."

Virgil laughed. "You're joking... Aren't you?"

"No." Jeff sat forward again. "You were frightened of flowers..."

"I was frightened of flowers!?"

"And you couldn't remember how to play the piano."

"But that's crazy!" Virgil exclaimed.

"It's true, Virg," John confirmed. "I saw it with my own eyes."

Virgil clenched his hands into fists. "Wait till I get my hands on him."

"I don't believe it," but Scott didn't sound confident in his assertion. "Ah... What did I do?"

"You brayed like a donkey every time I asked you to do something, you 'flew' around the room making aircraft noises whenever someone said Thunderbird, and you made chicken noises."

"Chicken noises? When did I make chicken noises?"

"I've been thinking about that," Jeff said. "I think it might have been when ever you told Virgil to do something."

"Hang on, Dad. He told me to give my report and then clucked," John recollected. "Remember?"

"That's right," Jeff agreed. "So it was probably whenever you told your brothers to do something."

Despite his embarrassment and growing anger towards his younger brother, Virgil laughed. "He obviously decided that you're such a mother hen that you may as well sound like one, Scott."

"What!" Scott scowled. "No way!"

John grinned. "That figures. It would appeal to his sick sense of humour. Now, the question is: what are we going to do to get even?"

Virgil stared at the figure in the video screen. "Why are you taking such an interest, John?"

"Because, like you, he got me. Unlike you he got me in a more public arena."

"Yeah?" Scott contemplated the video image. "What did he get you to do?"

"Like you I can't remember, but I've been waiting a long time for revenge."

"How long?" Virgil asked.

"The week after he escaped from the bathyscaphe."

Scott stared at his brother. "That's a long time to wait."

"We astronomers are patient. We know that if we wait long enough something interesting will eventually happen. We're not like flyboys who have to get from A to B as quickly as possible." His brothers looked at each other and rolled their eyes. "And now it's time to stop being patient and to exact my revenge."

"Before we go too far into this talk of revenge," Jeff interrupted. "Please explain something to me. What on earth possessed you two..." he glanced at John, "three," he amended, "to let Gordon of all people hypnotise you?"

"Think about it," Scott suggested. "If Gordon told you that he could hypnotise you, would you believe him?"

Jeff sighed. "Point taken."

"Hang on!" Virgil exclaimed. "It should be four of us in here. He was hypnotising Alan too." He frowned. "I wonder if he's immune?"

"More likely that the little worm deliberately didn't hypnotise the other little worm so they could both have a good laugh at us," Scott growled. "Well, I'm not waiting until next time you're dirt-side, John." He stood and slammed his fist into his palm. "I've got a fish I want to fry while he's still fresh."

"Wait for me," Virgil joined him at the door. "I'll help you fillet him."

Jeff was on his feet. "Whoa! I want both of you to calm down before you do anything."

"Besides," John added. "You know how he works. They're both heading to Smuggler's Cove..."

"Knowing full well that if we go after them, they'll see us coming and have plenty of time to escape," Virgil growled.

"Yep," John agreed. "Even with our tracking systems you won't be able to get your hands on him. He'll lie low until dinner."

Scott looked at Virgil. "John's right. Gordon knows that we wouldn't dare do anything while we're at the dinner table with Grandma and Father."

"True," Virgil conceded. "And then he'll volunteer to do the dishes, knowing that we won't hang around, because we won't want to be seconded by Grandma into doing other chores."

Jeff barked a laugh. "This brings back memories."

"Well," Scott sounded determined. "I think it'll be worth a few extra chores just for the opportunity to get even. Are you with me, Virgil?"

"All the way. But I think we should strike during dinner when he least expects it. Even if it means that we have to pay the consequences later. He'll never learn otherwise... Sorry, Father, but he's gone too far this time..."

"Boys!" Jeff held up his hand. "Before you do anything rash I'd like to remember that you aren't the only victims here. He had me thinking that if you two weren't going crazy then I certainly was. Within certain boundaries, I'd like to help."

Two brothers looked at each other then Virgil turned to the man standing behind his desk. "What boundaries?"

"We don't aggravate your grandmother. I'm not immune to her punishments either."

"I can live with that." Virgil looked at Scott. "Okay, Commander, what have you got planned?"

"I was thinking something simple... Like pegging him out in the sand just above the high-tide mark."

John snorted a laugh. "That's good, Scotty. Just like putting a meal out of reach of a starving man."

"But I don't think your grandmother would approve," Jeff said. "We need something more subtle."

"Have you got any ideas?" Scott asked.

"I could arrange to have someone hypnotise him," Jeff offered. "Between us I'm sure we could think up some suitable 'challenges' for him. And a few hints letting him know he's not off the hook will keep him on edge."

"That has possibilities," Scott mused. "What do you think, Virg?"

"Last time you asked me that I forgot how to play the piano."

"Hang on," John interrupted. "I've got a better idea."

"You have?" Virgil raised a querying eyebrow. "What?"

John gave an evil grin. "I have a plan guaranteed to get back at both of them." He looked over at his father. "But it'll mean bending some rules..."

They came to Smuggler's Cove, a secluded spot with a view out over the Pacific Ocean, and sheltered from the wind and irate brothers. With a sigh of contentment, Gordon collapsed onto the sand and stretched out on his back. "That has got to be one of the funniest, most satisfying things I've ever done... Well, the funniest, most satisfying thing since I hypnotised John."

Alan sat down next to his brother "You hypnotised John? When?"

"It was after I'd finished in the bathyscaphe. I wanted to see if I could hypnotise anyone and not only those guys I'd been living with. And John, the poor deluded fool, was more than happy to help me out in my little experiment." Gordon gave a chuckle. "I had him thinking that everything he was looking at was a bunch of stars. It was all very enlightening. Did you know..." he lifted his head so that he could give Alan a mock serious look, "that spilt coffee is the constellation of 'Caffinus Major'?" He allowed his head to fall back onto the sand and closed his eyes. "But the best bit was when I convinced him that the central heating was turned up to the maximum. He got so hot that he had to strip off everything except his shorts." Gordon barked out a laugh. "And then he fell head over heels in love with a pot plant. It was quite touching to see him get down on his knee and propose." He burst out laughing again.

"You won't be thinking it's funny when Scott and Virgil get hold of you."

"Alan, my brother, you worry too much." Gordon cracked his eyes open so he could glance at his watch and then closed them again as he returned his hand to behind his head. "They should be fully awake by now so we'll hang out here until dinnertime. They won't dare do anything while we're all at the table and Dad and Grandma are present. You and I will offer to help with the dishes afterwards and Scott and Virgil, not wanting to risk being landed with chores of their own, won't hang around. Once we've finished we'll slip back to our rooms and safety. They'll have forgotten it all by the morning."

"Dishes!" Alan looked down on his brother in disgust.

Gordon grinned into the warm sun. "Believe me, doing the dishes is a small price to pay for such priceless entertainment."

"You're asking for it, Gordon, do you know that?" Alan asked. "Someone, probably John, is keeping a log of all your pranks. One day they'll get revenge..." He scowled. "And what worries me is that I'll probably be caught up in it, even though nine times out of ten I haven't been involved."

"Nine times?"

"Well..." Alan couldn't resist a small grin. "Five."

Gordon laughed. "Relax, Kiddo. You are dealing with the master. There's no vengeful trick that I wouldn't be able to see through. Anything they could come up with would pale into insignificance compared with what..."

The rescue alert in their watches went off. In a flash, both brothers were on their feet and racing back to the house.

"See," Gordon puffed. "The gods are smiling on us. By the time the rescue's over everyone will have forgotten what we've done."

The pair of them reached the lounge to find their father nearly ready to pull his hair out. "Good! You're here. The two of you will have to do the rescue alone. I daren't send your brothers."

Gordon gave a light laugh. "Come on, Dad. I'm sure they'll be fine."

"No," Jeff shook his head. "I daren't risk it."

Scott and Virgil ran into the room. "What's the action?" Scott asked.

Jeff turned to him. "I'm waiting on the latest report from Thunderbird Five."

"Nnnnyaarrr."

Both Gordon's and Alan's jaws dropped as, doing an excellent impression of one of Boeing's finest, Scott did a lap of the lounge. "What's going on?" Gordon yelped, as he stepped out of the way of Scott's flight.

His father looked frazzled. "I don't know what's wrong with them, but I daren't send them. You'll have to take Thunderbird..."

"Nnnnyaarrr."

"Scott! Stop that!"

"Hee-haw."

Jeff groaned and pushed a button on his desk. "Brains! Come in here now!" he barked.

"Surely Virgil can take Th ...?"

"Don't say that word," Jeff yelled.

"But what about Virgil?" Alan asked.

"What about me?"

Alan looked at his brother. "You seem to be okay. How do you feel?"

"Frustrated," Virgil admitted.

"Frustrated?" Alan asked. "Why?"

"No one will tell me how to play the piano."

"What!" Alan stared at his watch. "It was quarter past half an hour ago," he hissed in Gordon's ear. "And didn't you say the alarm would snap them out of it."

"I don't know what's gone wrong," Gordon admitted, bewildered by what he was seeing. "I did everything right."

Alan gave him a dark look. "Obviously not everything."

"Maybe the alarm negated the 4.15 cut off."

Eyes in the first portrait started flashing. "Go ahead, Th..." Jeff stopped himself.

"Give us your report, John," Scott ordered. "Bwoook-bok-bok-bok."

Gordon groaned. "What have I done?"

"I did warn you," Alan hissed.

"This is a big one," John was saying. "There's been a gas explosion in Calcutta. It's set fire to a hospital. The explosion created a sink hole and a school's collapsed into it. We'll need every available pair of hands."

"Oh, no..." Jeff groaned. "I can't send Scott and Virgil."

"Why not?" Virgil asked, sounding surprised.

It was at that moment that Kyrano chose to enter the lounge. He held in his hands a large bunch of...

"Flowers!" Virgil shrieked. He got as far away from the offending blooms as he could and took shelter behind the tiny body of his grandmother. "Don't let them near me."

"Virgil Tracy!" Grandma tried unsuccessfully to squirm out of his grasp. "What's got into you?"

Seemingly oblivious to the consternation he was causing to one of the young men present, Kyrano stepped closer to Grandma. "These are my best blooms, Mrs Tracy. Shall I take them to your room?"

Virgil backed away, pulling his human shield with him. "Noooo," he moaned.

"Virgil! Stop mauling me about!"

Jeff decided that there was a bigger crisis going on in the world. "We'll need the Mole and the Firefly!"

"Are they in Thunderbird Two?" John asked.

"Nnnnyyyaaarrrr."

"Don't say that, John!"

"Don't say what?"

"You'd better put the Mole and the Firefly in the same pod, Virgil!Bwoook-bok-bok."

"I can't go anywhere. Not while those flowers are looking at me!"

"Virgil Tracy! Will you let go of me?!"

"Alan you'd better take Thunderbird..."

"Nnnnyyyaaarrrr."

"Scott! Stop that!"

"Hee-haw."

"Dad!" Gordon was alarmed by the way his father was looking stressed. "I'm sorry..."

"We'll discuss this later. Take Thunderbird Two..."

"Nnnnyyyaaarrrr."

"Anyone got some herbicide?"

"Shouldn't I be taking Thunderbird One and flying out to the danger zone?"

"No, Scott! You are staying here!"

"Hee-haw!"

"Alan! Gordon! Go!"

"C-Couldn't Brains c-come with us?" Alan stammered.

"No." Jeff shook his head. "I need him here. Get going, Alan."

"And you'd better not damage our Thunderbirds! Bwook-bok-bok."

Alan ran for the twin light fittings. As he rotated out of sight he glared at his co-conspirator.

"Dad," Gordon had something he had to get off his chest. "This is my..."

"Gordon! We haven't got time for chats! Go!"

"Yes, Sir," Gordon mumbled. He took up position with his back against the picture of the rocket and slipped out of sight.

It was only when the picture was back in its innocuous position that everyone in the lounge relaxed enough to burst out laughing.

"Shush," John scolded through his tears of laughter. "I've got to play it straight and I can't do that if you lot are putting me off."

"Sorry, Grandma." Virgil gave his grandmother a hug and planted a kiss on the top of her head. "Did you see their faces?"

"Never mind their faces," John was listening to the radio. "You want to hear the conversation that's going on between the Thunderbirds!"

"Patch it through, John," Jeff ordered.

"Hee-haw." Surprised, everyone turned to look at Scott. "Oh! I got it wrong, didn't I?" He grinned. "I bray when you give me an order."

"This is your fault, Gordon!"

"I don't understand it. Nothing like this has happened before."

"What are you going to do?"

"What amI going to do?"

"Don't bring me into this. You hypnotised them."

"You were enjoying it as much as I was."

"I never asked not to be hypnotised. You were the one who stopped me."

"You make it sound like that's a bad thing."

"Dad's going to string you up from the radio mast when he finds out what you've done. You do realise that?"

Gordon cringed. "I know."

"And you'd better tell him that none of this was my fault."

"Yeah, yeah..."

"Gordon! You'd better! Otherwise I'll be telling him a few things myself!"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Wouldn't I? Think of all the lives that are endangered because Scott and Virgil aren't here."

"Hey!" Gordon protested. "It's not like they're the only capable ones!"

"No, but what can the two of us do without help? There'll be no one to man Mobile Control. No one for first aid. No one..."

"Okay, okay."

"And it's not only this rescue, is it?"

"No..."

"What if they're not cured by the next one?"

"Okay, Alan! I've got the picture! I'll admit that this is my fault and I'll tell Dad that you had nothing to do with it! Happy!?"

"Thunderbird Five to Thunderbird One and Thunderbird Two."

Glad for the opportunity to talk to someone who wasn't on his back at this present moment, Gordon quickly responded. "Thunderbird Two. receiving." He heard a similar echo from his younger brother."

"You can relax, fellas. The emergency's over."

Gordon felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "It was a false alarm?"

"No. But the wing of the hospital that caught fire was closed for maintenance and all the pupils were off site for an inter-school sports day. Our services aren't needed."

"That's a relief," Alan sighed. "So we can come home again, John?"

"F-A-B." John signed off before he collapsed into uncontrollable laughter.

By mutual agreement Gordon and Alan made sure that both Thunderbirds arrived back at Tracy Island at the same time. Also by mutual agreement they emerged into the lounge at the same moment.

The room was empty, except for Jeff Tracy who was making a telecall to someone. "Thank you," he said.

"A most intriguing case." The voice on the other end of the videophone sounded German. "I shall await their arrival with great interest."

"We'll be there tomorrow," Jeff promised. "And thank you again."

"No, thank you," the mystery man said. "Good day, Mr Tracy."

Jeff cancelled the call with a sigh.

"Who was that, Dad?" Alan asked.

"A noted psychiatrist," Jeff admitted. "He's agreed to see Scott and Virgil."

"Psychiatrist!" Gordon exclaimed. "Why!?"

"Because neither of them have improved since you left." Jeff gave a dramatic pause. "In fact they've got worse."

"Worse?" Gordon felt his stomach fall to somewhere in the region of Thunderbird One's launch bay. "How do you mean worse? Where are they?"

Jeff stood and walked between them in the direction of the door. "The sickbay."

"Sickbay!" Feeling sick himself, Gordon followed his father.

"Tell him," Alan hissed. "You've got to."

"I-I know. I will."

"Now!"

Jeff pretended not to hear their muttered whispers as he turned from the hall into the infirmary.

Brains and Tin-Tin were in there, their clean white coats matching the gleaming whiteness of the room. They were deep in conversation with John via a wall monitor.

Scott and Virgil were both present too. Both were lying on their backs in their hospital beds. Both appeared to be sound asleep.

"Brains had to sedate them," Jeff informed his two youngest sons. "This could mean the end of International Rescue."

"Sedate them!" Gordon took in his brothers' pallor, their stillness, and the IVs draining into their arms. "End of International Rescue? Why?"

"Tin-Tin came into the lounge soon after you'd left," Jeff told them. "She was wearing that dress of hers. The pale blue one with the flower on it."

Despite his deep sleep, Virgil flinched.

"Virgil tore my new dress off," Tin-Tin sniffed. "See!" He held out a torn piece of sky blue material. "He was shouting about how he wouldn't let the flowers," Virgil shifted again, "get me. He wouldn't stop until Brains made him!"

"Virgil did what?!" Alan stared at the figure on the bed.

Virgil shifted and muttered something that sounded like: "Flowers... Won't let them..."

"I've got to hand it to you, Brains." Jeff slapped the little man on the shoulder, forcing him to take a step forwards. "That was one of the bravest things I've ever seen you do."

"What did he do?" Alan asked, as frightening visions of his girlfriend being manhandled dashed through his mind.

"Got close enough to Virgil, even though he was still wound up, so that he could give him the injection" Jeff said. "That was smart work, Brains."

Blushing, Brains inclined his head and gave a modest smile.

"And Scott?" Gordon asked. "What did he do? Why did he have to be sedated?"

"He saw Thunderbird..." there was a buzzing sound from the vicinity of Scott's bed, "One launch. It literally sent him into a spin. He started running around and around the room and making that horrible noise. The only way we could get him to stop was to tackle him." Jeff rubbed his shoulder. "I'd forgotten how solid he is. I had to sit on him while Brains injected him. He was braying the entire time."

Wide-eyed, Gordon stared at his two comatose brothers.

Alan nudged him. "Go on."

Numb, Gordon seemed unable to speak.

Alan nudged him harder. "Go on. Tell them!" He rounded on his brother. "If you don't, I will!"

Jeff feigned innocence. "Tell us what, Alan? Gordon?"

"I... ah..." At another hard nudge from Alan, Gordon looked up at his father. "This is my fault, Dad."

Jeff frowned. "Your fault, Gordon. How? Why do you say that?"

"We were bored," Gordon admitted. "It's been a long time since our last rescue and, ah, I was looking for something different to do."

"What did you do, Gordon?" Tin-Tin asked.

"I... ah..." Gordon glanced at his two unconscious brothers and then stared at the floor. "I hypnotised them."

There was a moment's silence as his words sunk in.

"This isn't time to be funny, Gordon," Jeff growled.

"He's not, Dad," Alan protested. "It's true. He was going to hypnotise me too."

"But I didn't," Gordon admitted. "I tricked Scott and Virgil into thinking that I was going to hypnotise the three of them and then pulled Alan out of the trance."

Jeff stared at the pair of them. "You're serious? You hypnotised them?"

Gordon nodded, his eyes still glued to the floor. "Only it wasn't meant to be like this. They were supposed to snap out of it at quarter past four, or, if we had a callout before then, when they heard the rescue alarm."

"And is this," Jeff gestured towards the two recumbent figures, "what was supposed to happen?"

"No." Gordon finally found the courage to look his father in the face. "Honest, Dad. We were only having a bit of fun."

"What did you hypnotise them to do?" Jeff asked.

"Scott was to do that flying around the room thing every time he heard the word Thunderbird." Scott twitched and made a quiet buzzing noise. "And he was to bray like a donkey whenever you gave him an order or cluck like a chicken when he ordered one of us to do something," Gordon indicated himself and his brothers.

"And what was Virgil to do?" Jeff asked.

"Forget how to play the piano and be frightened of flowers."

There was a low moan and some movement from Virgil's bed.

"So all this is your fault, Gordon?" Jeff stated.

Deeply ashamed Gordon looked at the floor again and nodded.

"How do we snap them out of it?"

"I don't know," Gordon admitted. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

"Well..." Jeff's face indicated that what he was about to say was an order, not an offer. "I think you'd better try to un-hypnotise them then, hadn't you?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Meanwhile, I'll go and mention your little experiment to the psychiatrist."

"Yes, Dad."

"I think," Jeff looked at the assembled gathering, "that Gordon might like a little time alone to do his work." He ushered everyone out of the room leaving a dejected Gordon and two lifeless brothers.

Gordon pulled a chair up to between the two beds and sat down. "I'm sorry, Guys. I honestly didn't think that this was going to happen. I wouldn't have hypnotised you if I'd known you were going to end up like this."

There was no reply.

"Okay," Gordon said to himself. "So what am I going to do...? Scott," he laid a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Virgil." He repeated the gesture. "Listen to me. You are going to snap out of your trance. I am going to count back from ten. When I reach one you will no longer be hypnotised. You will be wide awake and will forget everything that I told you while you were hypnotised. You will feel relaxed and refreshed..." he briefly toyed with "and will not try to get your revenge on me", but decided not to push his luck. Whatever the consequences of today's events, he would take them like a man.

Gordon took a deep breath. "Ten...

"Nine...

"Eight...

"Seven...

"Six...

"Five...

"Four..." Worryingly there had been no reaction from either brother. Gordon swallowed a feeling of panic and carried on.

"Three...

"Two...

"One...

Nothing happened. "Open your eyes, Scott," Gordon begged. "Please... Virgil, look at me!"

There was no response and Gordon closed his eyes and forced himself to think rationally. "Wait a minute! They're both sedated, aren't they? Depending on how deep they're asleep, they might not have even heard me."Relieved at his deductions, Gordon opened his eyes.

Scott was moving.

"Scott!" Gordon exclaimed. "That's it! Open your eyes."

Scott obeyed...

...And Gordon recoiled in horror.

Scott's eyes were red, like coals in a fire. And they were fixed on Gordon.

More than a little alarmed Gordon looked at his other brother. Virgil was sitting up in his bed and, like Scott, his eyes were fixed on Gordon. Like Scott, his eyes were scarlet in colour.

Gordon managed a shaky smile. "Morning, Virg... Ah, how do you feel?"

Virgil didn't answer. Instead, without shifting his gaze, he reached down for the IV line.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Gordon protested.

Virgil didn't appear to hear him. He ripped the drip from out of his arm.

A noise from his other side caused Gordon to turn. Scott had not only already removed his IV line, he had flung back his bed clothes. In one smooth movement he swung his legs out of the bed and onto the floor. He stood, towering over his brother.

"Ulp..." Suddenly finding two fiery eyed brothers standing over him was too much for Gordon. He pushed back in his chair and succeeded in knocking it over. He found himself sprawled on the floor with two pairs of hands reaching out for him...

...Only they weren't reaching out to help.

Gordon scrambled to his feet and backed away. "Come on, Guys. How about a smile, huh?"

Virgil and Scott took a step forward.

"Remember all the fun we've had together."

Zombie-like his brothers advanced. Their eyes appeared to be weeping blood.

"This hypnotism thing. It was only a joke, okay? Nothing to get upset over. No one was hurt... Right?"

Hands were stretched out before them. Hands that, Gordon noticed, were as far apart as the width of his throat.

He tried to appear casual. "Look, why don't I go get some of Grandma's apple pie and we'll talk this through?"

Gordon backed up against something solid. Not looking away from the two pair of red-hot eyes that were still advancing on him he felt about trying to find the switch that would open the electronic door.

"Are you going somewhere, Gordon?"

Startled by the voice in his ear, Gordon spun around and found himself nose-to-nose with his father. "Dad!"

"I see you've succeeded in bringing them out of their trances."

"Yeah, um, Dad. Would you mind getting out of the way?"

"Why, Gordon? Do you think we'd hurt you?"

"Now, would we do a thing like that to our little brother?"

Gordon spun back around. Both his brothers were standing inches away from him, their hands folded across their broad chests. "Uh, hi, guys."

"Hi?" Virgil's red eyes frowned. "After what you've put us through is that all you can say?"

"Oh." Looking suitably abashed, Gordon apologised. "I'm sorry."

"So you should be," Scott reached out and Gordon visibly flinched. Scott grinned. "Thanks, Honey," he said as accepted a box of tissues from Tin-Tin. He gave some to Virgil.

Virgil mopped his face and sent a dye and make-up soaked tissue into a nearby rubbish tin. "That stuff sure stings your eyes, Brains." He grinned at Gordon. "It was worth it though."

Scott wiped his weeping eyes. "It stings all right." He blinked. "Now I can't see what I'm doing."

"S-Sit down, Scott," Brains instructed. "I'll, ah, insert the drops."

"Here, Let me help," Tin-Tin offered. She pushed past Gordon and picked a phial up from off the worktop.

"You're all in on this?!" Gordon gasped "And you went so far as to put an irritant in your eyes? I don't believe you guys!"

"We had to be convincing to con the conman," Scott joked. He blinked away an eye drop. "And it had the advantage that every time I wanted to laugh, all I had to do was open my eyes a little bit and let the air get to them. I didn't feel like laughing after that."

"True," Virgil agreed, as Tin-Tin applied one set of eye drops to his left eye. "What with having to pretend to be frightened of flowers, and then this stuff, it's been an interesting day." He glared at Gordon with clear eyes. "What I can remember of it."

"At least your act was straightforward," Scott reminded him. "I had to keep concentrating to make sure I didn't miss any cues or do the wrong thing. A couple of times I nearly took off around the room when I should have been clucking."

Alan had been standing behind his father. "Who was the psychiatrist?" he asked.

"Me." Everyone had forgotten that John had been quietly watching proceedings via the wall monitor. He pressed a button on the console and spoke again. "All part of my great plan," he said in his disguised voice.

"Yours!" Gordon stared at him.

"I warned you, Gordon," Alan reminded him. "I told you he was keeping a log and I'd get caught up in their revenge!"

Tin-Tin replaced the cap on the eye drops and unbuttoned her white lab coat. "Hold this for me, will you, Gordon?" she asked as she shrugged it off her shoulders. She was wearing sky-blue with a yellow chrysanthemum.

Virgil winked at her. "Nice dress, Honey."

She dimpled at him. "Thank you, Virgil."

Alan glared at the pair of them.

"Gordon," Jeff clapped his arm about his son's shoulders. "Next time you decided to hypnotise one of us, make sure that we all know about it, okay? Make it a show that we can all enjoy?"

"Yes, Dad," a severely chastened Gordon mumbled.

"The only problem with that," Scott said as he peeled fake skin off his arm from where the IV had been 'inserted'. "Is that, since he's the hypnotist, we'll never get to see Gordon hypnotised."

"Don't be so sure about that." John grinned at his family. "You see," he said, "I was on the space station for a long time. There wasn't much to do in your spare time apart from star gazing. It wasn't as if you could step outside for a stroll... But, there was this one guy there..."

Gordon gulped.