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Symphony of a Family

Movement IX: Proposta

Virgil knocked on the door to his father's office. It was no longer dread he felt when he did this, but more duty. After the death threat on his family, he took it upon himself to make sure his father didn't hide something like that again. He sat and talked to his father at least once a month. He would listen to how the company was growing, and make sure his father was up to date with what was going on with him and his brothers.

On this day there were several things Virgil needed to talk to his father about, so he knocked again a little more firmly. There was still no answer so he cracked the door open and poked his head through.

His father was on a call, talking to a head that was floating above the desk. He didn't seem to notice Virgil so he shut the door behind him and quietly made his way over to the chair in front of his father's desk and sat down.

His father glanced up at him, his brows drawn together and Virgil lifted his wrist and tapped at it. It was time for their appointment. At first Virgil had tried to catch his father when he was free, but that quickly proved almost impossible so he began making appointments with his secretary—in fact he had begun making appointments for his brothers as well.

It wasn't that his father didn't care. He just got so engrossed with his projects that if it weren't for his watch going off to remind him of his next appointment, he'd get nothing else done.

His father's eyes widened a bit and he glanced down at his watch, shook it, tapped it, and finally rolled his eyes. "Steve, I'm going to have to call you back. My next appointment is here."

The hologram nodded and after a few seconds disappeared.

"Watch dead again?" Virgil couldn't help the small smile on his face.

"When are they going to improve battery life?"

"Dad, it lasts you almost a month as it is."

"Still, they had solar powered watches in the past, why can't they do that for these."

"Because the solar cells in a basic watch is in the face, with smart watches like that there isn't room in the face for the solar cells because the digital display takes up all the room. And with the consumer want of sleeker styles and larger screens no one has bothered to add additional room for a solar cell."

His father blinked at him. "Why do you know that?"

"Because I was going to buy you one if it existed." Virgil laughed a little and leaned back in the chair. "So, how is the company going?"

"Not too bad. Steve's running the office in San Fransisco now. Says everything over there is running smoothly. Also just hired his replacement for the Wichita office last week, her name’s Mary. Steve and I were just talking about possibly having me visit both New York and San Fransisco soon."

Virgil couldn't help but be proud of his father. It had taken him nine years to get the company to where it was. It was a slow start—having only opened his first office four years ago—but he now had three buildings with their name on it. New York, Wichita, and San Fransisco. They were each small buildings, but he already had plans to expand the New York office and possibly the San Fransisco one as well. Of course his connections with NASA helped—he had gotten a contract from the space agency and that was what put Tracy Industries on the map.

"Also I'm working with Brains and may be putting in a bid for a project the GDF want done."

"I'd really like to meet this Brains one day. It sounds like he's been able to pull off some miracles."

"That he has. I'm lucky I was able to snag him away from Fischler. Not so sure about that guy, he has some good ideas but he's young and brash. There's just something about him that rubbed me the wrong way."

"Well, you have him and that's what matters." Virgil adjusted himself in the chair a little. It was an old wooden one, with an even older seat cushion tied to it. "If you can plan your visit to New York for this next week, that would work perfectly for John."

His father frowned as he leaned back in his own chair, squeaking as he did. "Why's that?"

Virgil couldn't help but let out a sigh, it wasn't on his calendar so of course he had forgotten. "John's going for his orientation at MIT this week. You thought you'd be too busy so Grandma is packing her bags to go with him. He'd love it if you would go instead."

"Is that this week?"

"It sure is."

"Damn that came fast." He reached up and scratched the bit of scruff on his chin.

"The sessions are in the morning, and it's only an hours flight to New York, plus a little bit of driving. Maybe two hours at most from doorstep to doorstep."

"You've never driven in New York."

"I've never been to New York."

"We need to fix that. They have some great museums, and of course there's broadway."

"I'd love to, but right now it's John's moment. He's been talking to his advising teacher and has been told that he could possibly meet a certain astronaut he and Alan are big fans of."

"Him? He wants to meet him? Has a bit of an ego last I heard."

"Yep, he's on campus this week for some reason. Though I'm sure the opportunity to introduce his father, the first man on Mars, is quite high on his list."

His father let out a good chuckle at that. "Well, who am I to deny him that." He reached forward and punched a button on his desk. "Steve, you still there?"

The hologram flickered a moment and then the man's head reappeared. "Yes, sir. Probably for the next hour. What do you need?"

"Sorry to add on to your work, but we need to move my schedule around. I think I'll go and visit New York this week. It's also John's week for orientation at MIT. I was hinted that it would be nice if I could go." He gave Virgil a quick wink.

"Of course sir, most of your meetings can be moved around and done remotely. Only there is one gentleman that was insisting for a face to face interview."

"Explain the situation to him. If he doesn't understand the importance of family, then I'm not interested in what he has to say."

"Very well, Mr. Tracy. I will get your new schedule uploaded by morning."

The hologram flickered out and his father leaned forward on the desk. "Alright, who's next."

"You missed Gordon's meet last week."

His father slowly lowered his head into his hands. "How mad is he?"

"Don't be surprised if he doesn't talk to you for the next couple of weeks." Virgil leaned back a little and crossed his arms. "Let him cool off, by his next competition he'll have forgotten it. I told him an emergency came up that you couldn't ignore."

"Be careful saying that. If he hears that excuse too much it won't work anymore."

"I know, which is why that is the first and last time I'll use it. I won't cover for you again."

"You shouldn't have to cover for me at all."

"This was the first major competition you've missed. You had to have been doing something big to have lost track of time that badly. Right?"

"Hmm, that was Wednesday and Thursday, right? Yeah, Brains and I had been working on some plans for close to thirty-six hours."

"They better have been something big."

"If they come out like I'd like them to it's gonna change the world."

Virgil started to laugh, that was his father's response to all of the projects his company was working on, but something in the way his father was looking at him made him stop and frown. "Anyways, he's got the Junior World Cup in October, I'll send a note off to Steve so he can make sure it's in your calendar. Miss this one and Gordon might disown you."

"Understood. How did he do?"

"Consistently got second and third place in all his races. Considering his competition is mainly seventeen and eighteen year olds, I'd say he's doing pretty good."

"Do you think he's going to make it to the next Olympics? Or the one after?"

"That's hard to say. If he keeps improving like he is, then he'll be going in 2056 for sure. John even did the math and the stats look promising."

"If Gordon says he going to do it, he probably will. I learned early on not to underestimate that kid."

"Speaking of kids, Alan."

"What's up with Alan?"

"With John heading to MIT this year, he's going to be bored and lonely. Gordon's gone all the time as it is, and with Band I'm not home much either."

"That is true. I'm assuming you already have an idea of what we can do about this."

"Flying. He wants to fly like Scott and he's old enough to start learning."

"Not a bad idea. I'll call the airfield and see if Bill is still giving less—"

"No, Dad. I mean for you to give him lessons. You went to all of Scott's sporting events, You've started going to my band performances, and you go to Gordon's meets. You haven't done a whole lot with Alan."

"Well, he's not in any sports yet—"

"That doesn't matter. For me and John it was just Scott that got the attention. Now it's all of us, except Alan."

His father nodded a little. "In your note to Steve, make sure I take some time off on Saturdays to teach him how to fly."

"He's going to be excited."

"Is there anything else?"

"One last thing. Me."

"You? It's summer, you don't have any performances—do you?"

Virgil couldn't help but laugh. "No, I don't. But I do have a deadline and I'd like for you to look over something for me." Virgil reached down and picked up a manilla envelope he had laid on the floor next to him when he had first sat down. He leaned over and slid it onto the desk within his father's reach.

His father raised an eyebrow as he reached for it and flipped open the flap, pulling out the small stack of papers contained within. He thumbed through, reading through them as he did, and when he was done he laid them down gently and leveled a slightly confused gaze at Virgil. "Denver School of Advanced Technology?"

"It's a newer school, but it's quickly proving to be just as good as MIT or CalTech."

"And it offers a good program for Acoustical Engineering?"

"I don't know. That's not what I'm gonna go for."

His father's eyebrows furrowed even more."I thought you wanted to do something with music?"

"I did. I thought I did. But being in the band, and being busy with it and all—it was great, wouldn't do it any different—but I realized I didn't want music to be my career. I want it to be what I come home to after a busy day. I want it to be what I use to relax."

"Then what are you going to do?"

"I was thinking mechanical engineering."

"Mechanical? Why that?"

"Is there something wrong with me wanting to be a mechanical engineer?" Virgil frowned, he thought his father would be overjoyed at the news, but instead he seemed disappointed.

"I thought you were going to stick to music and—well, you know how much I tried to push you to go into the sciences. But when you started high school, and laid everything out I realized that while I was your father, I had very little say in your life choices. I could suggest and recommend till I was blue in the face, but you would do what you wanted in the end, so I guess I had come to terms with you wanting to do something with music. But now—" His father leaned back in his chair and rubbed a hand over his face. "Well isn't this something. I can convince someone to loan me several million dollars on a gamble, but I can't even tell my son that I'd be proud of him no matter what he did."

"I think you just did." Virgil smiled at his father.

His father blinked a little and then smiled back. "I guess I just did. But why mechanical engineering specifically. Usually people go in with several options and feel it out as they go through school."

Virgil's smile faded a little as he pushed himself up out of the chair and walked over to a potted plant in the far corner of the small office. The plant was fake and covered with dust, but he ignored it and reached behind the plant for the roll of blueprints that lay in the corner. He brought it back over to his father's desk and laid it down gently.

"How did you know that was there?"

"I found it a couple of years ago." Virgil shrugged. They generally weren't allowed in their father's office when he was gone, so he wasn't sure if he'd get in trouble or not. However there was no other way of explaining his reason.

His father reached out and held down one end of it and unrolled the stack of paper onto his desk. It would have taken up the entire top if he hadn't had other things around him. However, it was open enough that both of them could see what the blueprints were of.

"That was Grandpa's plane. The one that killed them."

"It is."

"I figured you had it, trying to figure out what had happened."

"I went over this with a fine toothed comb but I couldn't find anything wrong with its design. My father was a good pilot, but he was getting on in age. He knew he'd have to stop flying at some point. But it wasn't him either. They came back and said it was fatigue on one of the flaps, he lost control of it and—" He shrugged a little.

"Yeah, you left the accident report between the pages. After I read it, I started studying the plane, looking to see just which part it was."

"You studied it?"

"Every time you were gone, I snuck in and looked it over. Researched the different parts trying to figure out what they did. I knew you hadn't been looking at it recently cause you never said anything about the marks I was leaving." Virgil slowly reached over and pointed out some of the math he had done in the margins.

His father didn't say anything, but gently touched Virgil's markings. "I don't want you to do this if you think it's going to help you understand why, cause I can tell you—"

"I'm not. Mom and Grandpa are dead. There is nothing we can do to change it. I want to help you though. Your company, you're trying to improve things so that accidents like this don't happen—so that no one else has to lose a mother, a father, or a wife. I want to help. I want to go to Denver, learn all I can about mechanical engineering, and come and work for you when I'm done."

His father let go of the blueprints and they snapped back into their roll. "Is that so? You want to become an engineer so you can help others?"

"Yes."

"Alright then. You best study hard, I won't go easy on you just because you're my son."

"I'd be disappointed if you did." Virgil tried to hide his smile, tried to be serious, but his father's smile wouldn't let him.

"I'll look your application over for you then."

"Don't forget now. I need to send it off by the end of the month."

"I'll do it right now. If we're done that is."

"We are. Thanks for talking to me."

"Virgil, I meant it. I am proud of you."

"I know."

The rest of his senior year went along fairly calmly. He went to homecoming with a girl he liked, and took her out a few times over the next few months. However, when it came to prom she finally admitted that she had a crush on someone else. So, Virgil did what Virgil does. He helped her to ask them out to prom. He went to prom with some friends instead and still had a good time.

He headed off to Denver the next fall and took all his classes seriously. He made sure to email his father and ask him how things were going—just cause he wasn't there didn't mean he wasn't going to let things go—but found it difficult to get enough time to make it home for visits. He even had to skip Scott's graduation from the Air Force Academy because of his own finals—none of his teachers would let him take them early. He did join his family as soon as he could so they could celebrate together.

Still it was mid May before Virgil was able to make it home for the summer. When he had turned sixteen he had chosen not to worry too much about driving and saved his money so that when he graduated from high school he could buy his own car. And it was with that car that he drove back south into Kansas for the summer.

He had barely pulled into the drive when he spotted Alan sitting on the steps of the porch. He quickly looked up at the sound of the car and Virgil saw the grin spread across his face.

"Hey, kiddo. Whatcha doing sitting out here?" Virgil pulled himself out of his car and leaned on the roof.

"Trying to figure out something to do." Alan jumped to his feet and ran around the car, and ran right into Virgil holding him in a tight hug.

"I take it you missed me?" Virgil squeezed him back and ruffled his hair. "Why so bored? You still have a couple weeks of school right? Where is everyone else?" Virgil glanced around the yard. The SUV sat unused next to the barn like always—Scott and John both choosing to fly back and forth to school, and Virgil had pulled up right next to their grandma's car. The only one missing was his father's.

Alan pulled himself away from Virgil and kicked at some dirt. "Scott's been assigned to Las Vegas, so he's already there working, and John's not coming home this summer. Internship or something."

"What about Gordon?"

"They're about to leave for practice."

"So you stay at home alone?"

Alan shrugged a little. "It's not the first time. At first I thought it would be awesome, just ended up being boring."

Virgil reached out and squeezed his shoulder before opening the back door and pulling out a couple of bags, throwing one to Alan to carry. "Well, you're stuck with me this summer. Hope you don't mind that."

"Nah." Alan smiled again.

There was a bang as the screen door slammed shut. Virgil looked up at the house and saw Gordon standing there, looking back into the house, with a duffle bag over his shoulder. "Grandma, hurry up. We're going to be late!"

"How can we be late when you're his only student?" Grandma appeared at the door and froze when Virgil met eyes with her's. "Virgil!" She pushed the screen door open, practically pushing Gordon to the ground and hurried out to him.

"Hi, Grandma." Virgil dropped the bag he was carrying and opened his arms for her incoming hug.

She squeezed him tight and then let go and looked up at him. "You grew. Definitely taller than Gordon now."

"Geez, thanks bro."

"We always knew you were going to be the shorty of the group." Virgil laughed as he reached over and ruffled Gordon's head.

"Alright, Grandma, we can catch up later. Practice, practice."

"All you do is practice. Can't you put it off just once for family?"

"Not with the Olympics within my reach."

Their grandma could only sigh and shake her head a little. "We'll bring dinner home, so don't worry yourselves over it."

Virgil nodded and waved, watching as they pulled out of the driveway and took off down the road.

"Alright, that just leaves Dad. Where is he? It's Saturday, surely he's not off at one of his offices."

"He's MIA like he is every weekend."

This caused Virgil to quirk an eyebrow at his littlest brother. "MIA? Every weekend? For how long?"

"Hmm, beginning of the year?" Alan picked up the bag again and led them into the house. "Said he had some kind of huge project with that brainy guy.

"Brains. That's his name."

"His name is Brains? What kind of name is that?"

"Probably just a nick name. Anyways, has he said anything else? Like which office he's at?"

"None of them. That's why he's MIA."

"Did you try call—"

"Of course I did. I had a question for him and called Jerry, Steve, and Mary. They only knew that they'd be unable to reach him on the weekends."

"Till when?"

"Until further notice."

Virgil had dropped his things just inside the door and led Alan into the kitchen reaching up to where their grandma tended to hide the cookies. He fished out four of them and handed Alan two. "What about your flying lessons?"

Alan shrugged a little as he bit into his cookie. "Dad said he'll start up again once this project is done with. Meanwhile, Mr. Davis has been teaching me. He says I'm a natural." Alan beamed a little at that, but it seemed difficult for him to keep it up and it disappeared just as fast.

"I could have told you that, and I haven't even seen you fly." Virgil ruffled his hair again but couldn't quite get the frown off his face. "Still that's not what we agreed to."

"What are you talking about? It's okay. I don't mind."

"Well, I do. Does Dad ever come home?"

"Yeah, usually Mondays and Thursdays. Goes to one of his offices in the morning and then comes home and drops his laundry off. About the same on Thursdays, all day at the office, spends the night here and then disappears for the weekend."

"Does he at least stay for dinner?"

"Oh yea, Grandma makes sure of that."

"What about Gordon's meets?"

"Ah, you'll have to talk to Gordon about that, if he'll even say anything."

Virgil shoved the rest of his cookie in his mouth to keep himself from saying something bad. He chewed slowly as he thought. His dad hadn't mentioned any kind of project in his weekly emails. As for Alan's lessons and Gordon's meets, now that he thought about it, his dad had been a bit evasive on those subjects.

His dad hadn't been lying to him, he just hadn't been telling him everything. True, he had never made his dad promise to tell him everything, Virgil just assumed that was the understanding. Still, he wasn't going to let this slide.

"Virgil, don't..."

Virgil blinked and looked down at Alan, he had been so deep in thought he hadn't heard his brother. "What?"

"You're not gonna make a big deal out of this are you?"

"You don't want me to?" Virgil sat down next to Alan and leaned on the back of the chair to listen to his brother.

"I just, it's not a big deal. Really. He said he'd help me later, and that he would be there when I did my solo flight. I know he's busy, he's doing good stuff—whatever it is—I don't want to be the reason he doesn't really change the world."

"Alan, the first step to changing the world is making sure those around you are part of that. Right now he's ignoring you and Gordon and that's not right."

"I just..."

Virgil frowned as he reached out and squeezed Alan's shoulder. "You just what?"

"Nothing. It's nothing."

"Alan, it's never nothing. What's wrong?"

Alan wasn't looking at Virgil, but sighed and leaned his head in his hand as his elbow rested on the table. "Dad and Gordon were arguing the last time they were both here. About him missing another meet. It got pretty loud."

"Ah." Virgil pulled Alan over into a hug. "Don't worry. Dad and I have had our bouts, but I think we've gotten each other figured out by now."

"It's not just the yelling though. The silence is worse."

Virgil hugged him a little tighter and planted a light kiss on the top of his head. "Trust me. I've known them both my whole life."

Alan pulled away a little, but Virgil saw the small smile that had flickered on his lips.

"Enough of this. I'm here now, and you're bored. What are we going to do?"

"I just got Zombie Apocalypse X." Alan had a small smile on his face, a little bit of hope and a bit of doubt as well.

"Well, we know who's going to win, but if that's what you want to do, let's go kill us some zombies."

They played all weekend, with a few small bouts of piano playing to be fair—though that was Alan's idea, Virgil had been prepared to do only what he had wanted to do.

When Monday came around—after they had sent Gordon and Alan off to school—Virgil went to work making a few phone calls. He found that his father was going to be in the Wichita office that day and arranged an appointment just after lunch with his father. He asked Mary not to tell his father who his one o'clock was, just to say it was an dissatisfied member of the board.

His father had decided, as the company grew, that it would be impossible to be up to date in all aspects of running it and make firm educated decisions without some help. So he went searching and found a group of people who would serve on his board of directors. They were a varied bunch and the only ones in the company who could argue with his father, and make him listen. Virgil knew that by saying he was a board member his father would make sure his schedule would be clear and he would be there waiting on him.

Virgil left the house and drove to Wichita so that he would be there in plenty of time. He arrived about a half an hour early and confirmed with Mary that his father had taken lunch in his office because of his important meeting.

"Mr. Tracy, the board member is here early. Would you like to see them now?" She smiled a little, excited about being in on the little deception.

"Yes, yes. Send them in and hold my calls." His father's voice was a little rough, and Virgil heard him clear it as he hung up.

"I hope you get things settled, Virgil. He's been in a right mood since arguing with your brother."

"I hope so too." Virgil smiled back at Mary and took in a deep breath, straightened his shoulders and made his way into is father's office.

His father had stood and was halfway around his desk when he realized who Virgil really was. His mouth dropped open a little and his eyebrows scrunched together like Scott's did when he was confused.

Virgil couldn't help but smirk at that.

"I don't understand. Mary said—"

"That it was a board member. She just didn't say what board."

"I only have one."

"Two. Company and family. And I must say the family board of directors is not in the best of shape at the moment."

"I see. So you've come to talk to me. Is that it?" His father dropped back down into his chair and touched a button on his desk. "Mary." It was silent. "Mary."

"She's not going to answer."

"I could have her fired for insubordination."

"But you won't."

"And why not?"

"Because she's doing exactly what you wanted her to do when you hired her. She's doing what you hoped all of your employees would do when you hired them. You made sure every single one of them and your board of directors knew how important family was, so that you could tend to your own family when needed without argument. And right now, you need to tend to your family."

His father watched him for a moment, and then let out a sigh as he leaned back in his chair and looked down. "I know, I've messed up, again."

Virgil let out his breath. He had been afraid that his father had gotten so invested in his work that he was ignoring everything else. He was glad to see that wasn't the case. "Then why don't you fix it."

"It's not that easy."

Virgil sat down in the chair in front of his father's desk—the nice one he kept just for the board members. "Talk. You haven't been telling me everything in our e-mails, so tell me now. What has been going on? Alan told me how you've been MIA every weekend since the beginning of the year and that you've missed several of Gordon's meets. Not to mention the fight you two had, though he didn't give me any details."

"You pretty much know it then. I'm working on a secret project." He held up his hand to stop Virgil from talking. "I'm not ready to tell you quite yet. It is amazing though. I—no, no, can't say anything."

Virgil couldn't help but smile. He could see just how excited his father was about his project of his. Honestly, he hadn't seem him this excited in a very long time. Whatever it was, it really was big. "Any idea when you're going to tell me?"

"How's school?"

"School's fine."

"GPA?"

"4.0"

"Good. Good."

"Dad?"

"Keep working. We still have some kinks to figure out. When we've got it completely done, I'll let you all in on it."

"Good, and until then?"

"Until then?" His father blinked a few times, and then slumped back in his chair, all his excitement gone. "Right. That."

"Yes. That." Virgil crossed his arms. "You're apparently not on speaking terms with Gordon and you're not giving Alan his flying lessons."

"Alan said he was okay with taking them from Bill."

"What he says isn't always what he means. He just doesn't want to argue with you. He doesn't like fighting at all."

His father froze for a moment and then took in a deep breath and let it out. "Oh, Crap."

"Exactly. So first things first. Why did you miss Gordon's meets?"

"When I'm on the—when I'm away my calendar doesn't sync. So, I get so involved with what I'm doing that I forget and my watch doesn't remind me."

"Where the heck—"

"While Gordon may not be talking to me, I have already solved that issue on my side at least." His father stood and walked to the corner where some bags sat. He reached into one and pulled out a small leather bound book. "Steve got it for me when he found out about Gordon. Whoever I see last, just before I take off for home and then off to—well, you know. They make sure everything in the next two weeks is up to date and I look at it often when I'm gone."

He flipped it open and held it out for Virgil to look at. "Gordon has a meet this next weekend. I'm not going to—to see Brains. I'm going to the meet, whether he wants me there or not." He sighed and sat back down in his chair. "Now if he'll talk to me, that's another question altogether."

Virgil took the schedule book and flipped through it a bit. It seemed like the best idea, but it still wouldn't keep him from forgetting if he was sidetracked with whatever it was he was doing. "What did you fight about?"

His father sighed a little and rubbed his temples. "The same. Says I don't care about him because he's not into flying or space and stuff like that. Says that I'm disappointed in him cause he doesn't make straight As like the rest of you, and that I don't believe he'll make it to the Olympics and he should just give up."

"Is he right?"

"No!" His father's answer was immediate and he even brought his palm down on the desk with a slap. But it did take him a minute or two to follow it up. "At least not all of it. No, I shouldn't even say that, but flying and space is in my blood, always has been. I can't help but get excited when my sons show an interest in it. Swimming... It's fun, but I just don't see why it excites him so."

"Yet it does."

"That it does." His father let out his breath through his teeth as he settled back in his seat again. "And I've let him pursue it because he loves it so. I'll admit, when he first said he wanted to try for the Olympics I laughed, thought it was just one of those dreams kids have. They want to be everything under the sun as they grow up."

Virgil remained quiet, letting his father speak. No longer would he be the meek kid who did everything his father asked, but he was a patient listener so he let his father talk.

"But now, have you see Gordon recently? I mean swimming? You should go to the meet this weekend. He is something else. People are comparing him to Phelps and Ledecky. He's been winning his heats by a second or two. Has even broken quite a few Jr US records. I think this year, he'll break the US record in the butterfly. That's his main stroke you know. He decided last year that was the one he was going to swim at the Olympics, though he'll probably be in a relay as well."

"You sound quite proud of him."

"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?"

"He doesn't think you are. Have you told him?"

His father had his mouth open, but his eyes were wide and he just slowly closed it and leaned his head into one hand.

"You mentioned Gordon's grades as well?"

"They're not bad, Bs all around, but he could do better. I even showed him how some of the swimmers he idolizes were still able to get straight As while they swam. He didn't seem too impressed by it."

"Gordon's never been as excited for school as the rest of us. Bs are his normal."

"But I want him to do good. Get good grades, go to a good school. I hoped that showing him his roll models all had good grades would motivate him. Did the opposite."

"Does that honestly surprise you? Anytime you've tried to steer him down a path he sticks up his nose and goes the other way. That's who he is. He's a free spirit and no one is going to tell him what to do with his life."

His father let out another sigh, but didn't argue. "I want him to go to collage though, even if—even if he makes swimming his life. He needs to expand his mind as well."

"I agree, but that has to be something that he decides to do. You said it to me a couple of years ago, you can't force us down a path, we're going to do what we want to do, regardless of what you want."

His father smiled a little as he met eyes with Virgil. "That's the same thing Scott told me."

"Scott knows?"

"About Gordon, yes."

"But not about you disappearing on the weekends."

"Ha, if he knew he'd have his whole squadron hunting me down."

"That's probably true. Alright, this weekend we'll both talk to Gordon. Now, how about Alan?"

"There is honestly nothing left for me to teach him. He could fly solo now if he were old enough."

"So you don't think he's worth your time?"

"What? Why would you say something like that?" His father had sat up in his chair, his eyebrows scrunched together again.

"Because that's what it sounds like. You have nothing else to teach him so someone else can take over while you work on your secret project."

"He said he didn't care."

"He does."

"So it seems."

"Has he told you about the racing?" Virgil watched his father closely. He knew Alan hadn't told him because he had said he hadn't. Didn't want to bother him with it.

"Racing? Racing what?"

"Planes of course."

"Where did he get a silly idea like that?"

"Mr. Davis. His son does race planes you know."

"Ah, but he's too young."

"He just needs his license and he'll get that at sixteen. That's only three years away and you know he won't have an issue in getting it."

"And if I tell him I don't want him to—"

"He won't. He won't be happy, but he won't."

His father leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Why are my children so stubborn?"

"Might want to look in the mirror."

His father cocked an eyebrow at him, and Virgil knew he had stepped a bit close to the line.

"Sorry, sir."

"No, I get what you mean. Well, looks like Tracy Industries is going be working on racing planes. If my son is going to be using them, I'm going to make sure they are the safest damn things out there."

Virgil could only smile at that. "And what about his lessons now?"

"With my trips to—with my secret project, I can't take a lot of time off to take him up more than once a week."

"Once a week works. You are busy, we all understand that, but we want to feel that we are more important than TI."

"Alright. Alright. Ah, you're not going to tell Scott about my disappearing are you?"

Virgil watched him for a moment, but shook his head. "There's no reason he needs to know, as long as you don't forget about the rest of us again."

"Cross my heart." His father stood and walked around the desk to stand next to him. "Thank you. This old man needs a bit of a kick in the ass on occasion."

"It's my pleasure to do it as well." Virgil stood and hugged his father as he laughed at Virgil's remark. "How soon can you be home tonight?"

"I've got some paperwork and one more meeting today. So, I should be home for dinner."

"I'll let Grandma know."

"If she's taking requests, I'd love some of her meatloaf."

Virgil couldn't help but wrinkle his nose at that. "How do you even eat the stuff? The outside is burnt half the time."

"That's what the ketchup is for!" His father laughed again and patted Virgil on the back.

Gordon and his father made up that next weekend and things seemed to settle back into normality.

Virgil studied hard during his second year as well, once again finding it hard to make it home—though he almost walked out of a lecture when Alan sent a group message to all his brothers that his father had been hiding in his office all week drinking Whiskey and not even going to work. Scott was faster though, and replied that he'd be there that evening. Virgil decided to let his eldest brother take care of it, but demanded answers later.

Turned out that his father's secret project had been destroyed and it had hit him hard. Scott didn't give him any details, but he had been able to talk his father into trying again.

Life moved on, and Virgil found himself making a quick trip home to say good-bye to Scott. He was being deployed to the Middle East, though he didn't think he'd get involved in any type of conflict, he would be there for thirty long months with no idea if he'd get any leave to come home to visit. It as a sad weekend, but he knew Scott was doing what he had always wanted to do, so he was happy for him anyways.

That summer he had the joy of watching Gordon speed through the water and break the world record in the 100 butterfly, earning him a place on the Olympic team. The family—minus Scott of course—made the trip to China for the event and watched as Gordon not only participated in the games, but won a Gold medal as well. He had been up for three medals, his relay team was just a hundredth of a second away from winning the bronze medal, and because of a false start in the 200 butterfly, he had been disqualified.

Virgil's third year of college was quiet, but the summer after was full of events, both happy and sad. John joined NASA as soon as he had graduated from MIT. He had started some research that NASA had homed in on and decided that they wanted him up in the World Wide Space Station to continue his work, so they had green-lighted his application, even though he was still missing a few requirements, not to mention experience. He would not go up right away though, they mandated that he finish up his Masters as well as some additional training.

The tension between Gordon and their father finally caught fire that summer as well. Virgil had been in the house when it had happened and sat frozen next to Alan who had started crying at the argument that had broken out between the two. In the end, Gordon ran out of the house, not even saying anything to them as he did, and the next thing Virgil knew he had signed up for WASP and was soon sent to study under the sea for a year.

Virgil graduated from DSAT after four years of study, and a summer internship at his father's company. He applied for a job at Tracy Industries expecting to be given an entry position—he didn't want any special treatment just because he was a Tracy, he wanted to earn respect though his work, not his name.

However, when he received a call just before finals offering him a job, it wasn't the job he had applied for. It was a special position, assistant engineer in the special projects department. Annoyed, he thanked the messenger and turned around and called his father.

"What is the meaning of this? I told you I wanted to work up through the company. I don't want to be the CEO's son."

"Do you want to help people?"

This caught Virgil off guard and it took a moment for him to respond. "Y-yes, of course."

"Are you willing to dedicate your life to it?"

"That's the whole reason for becoming an engineer, you know that."

"Good. I told you a few years ago that I'd tell you about my secret project when I had the kinks worked out of it. Well, it took a bit longer than I expected, but I want to show you. If you want to be part of it, you can. If you don't, you'll get that entry level position you want."

"When will I find out what it is?"

"After graduation. Go ahead and sign the paperwork you're sent. It's got the condition in it, so no issues should you change your mind."

"Are you going to give me any clue?"

"Just a couple more weeks and you will know everything."

The line went silent and Virgil just stood in the middle of his apartment looking at the phone unsure what to even think.

Their father had opened the San Fransisco office the same year Virgil had become a senior in high school. Since that time his father spent less time at home and more time there—even to the point that he lived in an apartment in the city during the week. So it wasn't entirely odd that when Virgil got the details about his first day at work, he was told to report to that office. What was strange was that the details told him to dress ruggedly.

Virgil wasn't quite sure what that meant, so he wore a pair of jeans and button down shirt, something that looked nice, but wouldn't hurt to get dirty.

Virgil stood in front of the building that was thirty stories tall. His father rented the top half of it, though Virgil was sure it wouldn't take him long to own the entire thing. He looked around and took note that the symphony hall was barely a block down the street—if he could get an apartment nearby he could catch an evening show after work.

He smiled a bit as he ducked into the building, eager to find out what his father was up to. There were two main elevators that serviced the building—one for the lower half and one for the upper. Virgil headed for the latter and showed his ID to the security guard that stood next to the lift.

The guard scanned his ID and nodded when a green check appeared on it and hit the button to call the elevator. "Your Mr. Tracy's three o'clock appointment?"

"Yes, sir."

"Alright, I'll let Steve know you're on your way up, Mr.—" He glanced down at Virgil's ID again and frowned. "Tracy. Huh, what a coincidence."

"Not really. He is my father after all."

"The guard's eyes widened as he quickly handed the ID back. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Tracy, I didn't know."

Virgil couldn't help but laugh at that. "It's alright, and really, my dad is Mr. Tracy. Not me."

The guard laughed as well, agreeing to the sentiment as he stepped into the elevator, swiped his badge, and pushed the button for the top floor before stepping out.

Virgil watched as the floor numbers counted up, quietly counting along with it until it hit thirty. With a ping the doors opened to a bright open reception room. He walked over to the sold desk and smiled at Steve who sat behind it.

Steve had glanced up when the elevator had opened but looked back down to finish something before he stood and held his hand out to Virgil. "Virgil Tracy. It's about time I get to meet you in person."

Virgil laughed as he reached out and took the hand. "Hard to believe, isn't it."

"Well, I was only in Wichita for a couple of year and this is your first trip to San Fransisco, isn't it?"

Virgil withdrew his hand and rocked back on his heels a little. "It is. I'm excited to see what this is all about."

"He sure seemed excited as well. Go on in, he just got off a call, so he'll be free."

"Thanks." Virgil smiled again and turned toward the large double door and walked through.

The office was massive. It took up the entire top floor—well, three-quarters of it at least, the reception area took up some room on its own. Light filtered in through the three walls of windows that surrounded his father who sat at his desk looking down at something. There was a translucent wall that separated his father's office space from a meeting room to Virgil's left—which he glanced into and saw that it was decorated just as the office space he stood in.

That being very simplistic. A lot of wood and metal—what color there was were muted yellows, greens, and reds. There was shelving along the non-window wall he had walked through, covered with pictures of himself, his brothers, grandmother, and even a few of his mother and grandfather.

Virgil reached up and lightly touched the frame of one of the pictures—it was his mother and father, young, possibly even before they were married. His father had the traditional military haircut but his mother's hair was long and flying everywhere by some wind caught frozen in time. His father was standing behind her, holding her close and kissing her on the cheek while she was reaching out toward the camera—no, she was holding the camera to take the picture.

"You've never seen that picture have you?"

Virgil jumped and turned to face his father. "No, I haven't. How come?"

"I always kept it on my phone so I could look at her whenever I wanted." He stood and turned to look out the window behind him. "When I first came here to check out the building, I knew she would have loved the view, so I printed the picture out so she could always be looking at it." He chuckled a little before he turned back toward Virgil and gestured to the chair on the other side of his desk. "It's silly I know." He sat down in his own seat and seemed ready to get to business. "So, you finally made it."

"What do you mean?"

His father chuckled a little as he reached over and turned his holo-emitter around so that Virgil could see the schedule that was displayed. "Make a note of when the appointment was first entered."

Virgil leaned forward and looked at what his father motioned to. There it was, his name on this date and time, but it had been entered—"Five years ago?"

"Not long after you showed me your college applications."

"You were sure I would stick with it?"

"You work hard no matter what you do. I knew if you had decided to do the mechanical engineering you were going to be one that I couldn't afford to let slip through my fingers."

Virgil smiled and leaned back in his chair. "Alright then. I'm here. What is this special position all about?"

"Well, I had meant to tell you about my secret project a bit earlier than this, thought it'd be good motivation—not that you needed it. But as you know it didn't work out as planned." His father leaned back in his chair and seemed to be watching Virgil, to see how he would react.

Virgil had his eyebrows scrunched together trying to figure out if his father was talking in riddles or just being vague on purpose. "Right, it failed, didn't it?"

"No, no. It was a success, but I was forced to abort it. As you know, not one of my best moments. However, after talking to Scott—kind of had to let him in on the secret—I decided to start again from scratch and go at it from a different angel."

"So Scott knows? What about the others?"

"John, I was thinking of telling him after his first trip to space. Alan after he's been in college a little, see what direction he's going to go."

"And Gordon?" Virgil knew it was a risk saying his name. It wasn't that his father would blow up, but it was a wound that was still healing.

"I almost told him, but he ran out before I could. If he ever talks to me again, I might. Just have to see what happens."

They were both quiet for a moment, the memory of the fight still clear in Virgil's mind. He shook his head though to rid it of the thought, they would deal with that once Gordon was back on land again. "Right, so, what is this big secret of yours?"

"I could tell you, but I'd rather show you. Are those the only kind of clothes you brought?"

"What's wrong with them?"

"Not near rugged enough."

"I apologize, I didn't know we were going to go hiking in the amazon."

"You're not too far off" His father's voice rumbled in a half laugh as he stood and picked up his phone, smoothly pocketing it in his breast pocket. "We'll have check you out of your hotel, and stop by my place. Did you drive?"

"No, flew here and took a cab." Virgil watched as his father pack a few things into a small case.

"My old plane? Isn't Alan using it?"

"He's been using his new plane you got him for his birthday—Going to enter his first race this summer."

"He's not waiting any is he? I'll have Steve arrange some storage for it. Alright, let's get going. We've got some shopping to do before we take off."

"Shop—" His father was already halfway out the door. If he was going to get any answers he'd just have to follow along and see what happened.

"How's this?" They were in the middle of a store, but not the type of store Virgil thought they'd be going to. Even with his father's cryptic explanation he assumed he was going to take him to some specialty store. Instead he was in the dressing area of the local sporting goods store.

"Oh, that's suits you pretty good." His father was sitting in a nearby chair with his phone in hand texting away.

"Really? Don't I look a bit like some lumberjack?"

His father laughed a bit. "I suppose, but trust me, you need the rugged clothes for where we're going."

"And where is that?"

"You'll see. Keep that gear on and get a little of everything then meet me in the car. We'll swing by my place before heading to the airport."

Virgil was to the point that he didn't know whether to laugh or be worried about his father. Instead he just shook his head again as he gathered his things and headed to the checkout.

They stopped by the hotel Virgil had checked into the day before and grabbed his things. They then went to his father's apartment where Virgil left his light shirts and thin jeans and packed his suitcase with the new heavy duty clothes he had just gotten while his father changed into his own rugged wear—his not being quite so lumberjack like.

They were in his father's personal plane heading south west. This confused Virgil to no end. There was nothing to the south west but water. When he asked his father, he just smiled and said that he'd see. Well, it was a good four hours into the trip and the only thing he could see was the sea.

It took them almost six hours to reach their destination. His father had to point it out on the horizon or Virgil would have missed it all together. It was a small craggy island and Virgil had to scratch his head at his father's decision to bring him there.

They flew around the island a couple of times as his father explained the different features they could see from the sky.

"First thing of course was the runway. It's extra wide so that cargo planes have room to land and take off. Once everything is finished we'll plant some palm trees or something. Then over there you can see the main structure. It's mostly done, I'm just working on finalizing some of the internal designs."

"Is that a pool?"

"Yep, Olympic sized, just for Gordon."

Virgil snapped his gaze away from the island and to his father. He wasn't smiling anymore, wasn't even looking at anything and Virgil wished he hadn't pointed the thing out. Ever since Gordon ran off and joined WASP he hadn't said a word to their father and Virgil wasn't sure when that would change. He hoped that the year at the bottom of the ocean would help him to see things more clearly, both of them.

"How about you land and take me on a tour. I'm guessing this is more than you showing off your new vacation getaway."

The smile returned to his father's face, but it was a strained one. "Ah, we've got a bit of a hike ahead of us."

"A hike?" Virgil leaned back in his seat as his father banked to get into line with the runway. "The trail up to the main structure didn't look that bad."

"It's not. The one up to where the roundhouse is hasn't been established yet though—all the materials were airlifted to the cliff side."

"Isn't there a way up from the inside?"

"Yes, but we're not going into the round house, we need to be outside it."

It took them over an hour to hike up the side of the mountain. The trail was rocky and covered in vegetation. Virgil was glad his father had insisted on the hiking boots, though he was still in the dark as to why they were taking such an overgrown path.

By the time Virgil stumbled out from the tall growth to the bare cliff, his father was over by a round foundation with a circular structure above it. He could see an open stairway that emerged from the rocky floor and frowned at his father, pointing to it and back to the way they came. "W-why?"

His father laughed and waved out toward the sea. "Because I wanted you to appreciate this, and have a better understanding of just how far from the main house we were."

Virgil straightened up and looked out at the view before them. Nothing but blue as far as he could see. He looked down and the very top of the house's structure was still far below him, they had come quite a ways up.

"Why was that so important? You wanted to show off your own personal apartment or something?"

"Come over here and look at the foundation. Tell me what you see."

Virgil was starting to get a little annoyed with his father but was growing more and more curious as to what he's been doing on this small island.

Virgil was a mechanical engineer, but in his first couple of years he was forced to take classes that dealt with other forms of engineering, including civil engineering. So he started digging through his memory as he made his way over to the foundation and took a good look.

It definitely wasn't a normal foundation, not even for anchoring it into the rock. For one it wasn't a material that was generally used as a foundation—concrete or wood—it was metal. Second it was disguised quite well, but there were seams in the foundation that didn't need to be there.

"Is this—this is a door." Virgil stood in the middle of the foundation looking down. "Dad, why do you have a hatch under the round house?"

"Get off of it and I'll show you."

Virgil huffed a little but did as his father asked. As soon as he was next to him, his father reached up and touched the earpiece he was wearing. "Brains, open the silo."

"Silo?" Virgil's voice was suddenly drowned out by a thunk and the low growl as the metal retracted before them. Hesitantly he edged forward and peered down the deep hole. "Dad." His voice echoed back at him and he turned to look at his father. "What the hell are you up to?"

"Language." His father chided him. "This is why I brought you here. To show you what it was I was doing."

"And what is that?" Virgil edged away from the gaping hole and moved back to where his father was.

"Why did I start Tracy Industries?"

"Cause you wanted to prevent accidents like Mom's and Grandpa's."

"Correct. And yet the very first project that came to fruition ended in failure and a death."

"Dad! That wasn't—"

His father held up his hand stopping Virgil. "I know. You were right, I can't prevent all accidents from happening. But I can use Tracy Industries to help limit them."

"Then what is—" Once again he was stopped by his father's hand and a smile. Virgil was usually a pretty patient guy, but this was causing him to reach his limit rather fast.

"I can use the company to limit the number of accidents in everyday scenarios. For example altering private planes to help protect it's occupants should they have unexplained failures and crash. But what if said plane protected it's occupants, but crashed in a place that no normal rescue agency could get to, what would happen?"

"Call the GDF."

"True, but the GDF is a military outfit, not a rescuing one. If it were a large plane with a few dozen people they would probably try to find them. But a small one with one or two people, I'm afraid to say they wouldn't think it worth their time." His father shook his head sadly.

"And how do you know this?"

"I discussed it in length with an old friend of mine. She's a colonel now in the GDF. Colonel Casey. She didn't like it any more than I did, but she's not in a position to change the higher ups minds." His father turned and faced the open sea before them. "We're also assuming that the victims in this scenario were able to contact someone for help. What if their radio had been busted? Mobile phones have gotten more powerful, but even they aren't going to be able to get a connection in the middle of the Himalayas, Amazon, or the Sahara."

"Are you suggesting that you're going to start a rescue organization?"

"Kinda already have. Not full time, not yet. Been on a few rescues, saved some people, but had a bit of a set back couple of years ago. I think you can figure out when that was." His father flashed him a quick smile. "Had to ditch my ship in the ocean. That was when I told Scott everything. He convinced me to keep going, to try again."

Virgil had so many questions, though none of them were asking why his father was doing this. That was the only thing that made sense. Still he didn't say anything, just listened as his father continued.

"This silo was originally for her, the TV-21 that is. She was the fastest ship in the world—though only Casey knew of it officially. Now it's the home to a new ship. A bit smaller, but powerful. Able to reach orbit in a fraction of the time the GDF or the WSA can."

"You built a rocket?" This was not what Virgil was expecting. Another plane yes, but a rocket?

"Oh, We've built much more than that." His father turned and put an arm around Virgil's shoulders. "Come, let me show you what we've accomplished."

"We?"

"Me and Brains of course."

"This is where you've been hiding Brains?"

"This is the only place Brains has ever worked. It was the whole reason I ever hired him."

Virgil stopped for a moment and thought back, when was it that his father first mentioned Brains to him, it had to have been almost ten years ago. "You are letting him take vacations right?"

"I try, but he usually spends them here." His father laughed as he led him down the stairway Virgil had spotted when they had first arrived. "I did make him leave a few times, but usually its seen as a punishment rather than a reward. I tell you I didn't think anyone worked harder than John, but Brains is the only one I've seen do it."

Virgil followed his father. Their footsteps echoed around them as they continued down the circular path sending them deeper and deeper into the mountain. They finally came to a stop at a rock wall and a door.

"The roundhouse will be the guest suite, though I'm not planning on having too many guests. It's mainly just a cover for the exit to the silo." He opened the door and Virgil had to block his eyes from the bright light they walked into.

They stood on a narrow walkway that went around the inside of the silo, and would eventually lead them down to ground level. But that wasn't what had caught Virgil's eye. In the middle of the silo, seemingly ready for launch was a bright red rocket. It didn't have any markings on it, just a flat red paint, but it was huge.

"This is Three."

"Three? Is there a One and a Two?" Virgil laughed a little, thing it was a joke.

"We're working on them."

That made him blink a little. "So you built Three first?"

"The numbers represent the probability of them being used in a rescue." His father continued down the walkway and held up a single finger as he spoke. "One will be the first responder. She'll go on pretty much all the rescues." He then held up a second finger. "Two will be the workhorse of the fleet. She'll carry the equipment we'll need, but she can't always go until we find out from One what will be needed." A third finger was raised. "Three is for space rescues. More and more companies are using orbital transit. It's faster, but if something happened up there, it would take the GDF or the WSA almost an hour to exit the atmosphere—and that's assuming they have a rocket ready to launch. Three here can do it in twenty minutes and it's always on standby."

They had reached the bottom of the final staircase and were standing next to the supports for one of the boosters. "Three ships." Virgil crossed his arms and nodded. This was way more than some dream, and he couldn't help but get a little excited about it.

"Four." His father turned and flipped up his pinky finger. "Eventually we'll have a mini sub for underwater rescues. She'll be small enough that we can transport her in Two."

"Four ships then. You've covered everything haven't you."

"Five." His father held up his hand, all five fingers up and his grin at it's widest. "Five is a communications satellite. It's got the most powerful ears in the world. She will pick up that weak phone call for help."

His father's words didn't slip by him. "It has. You mean Five is done?" Virgil stopped and looked up to the pinprick that was the silo's exit. "It's up there?"

"Not a hundred percent done, no. It will eventually be a space station. Relaying the information it gathers to and from the earth takes time, it would be more effective to have someone up there, actively scanning frequencies. Right now it's a skeleton like many things around here. I hired an outside crew to do the main parts, explaining it off as an ex-astronaut billionaire's home away from home." His father laughed at himself. "Lee Taylor and I have been going up once a month or so to install her guts and here in the next year or so get the finishing touches on her."

"I have to admit, Dad. I'm amazed."

"You've only seen one ship. Wait till you see what's behind the door." He opened the door to the hanger and guided Virgil through it. They exited into a large cavern that had supports here and there where needed, and littered with various parts and pieces across the main floor below them."

"Those are the beginnings of One."

"How are you getting all these parts here? Aren't people getting curious with all the strange deliveries?"

"We make it all in house." His father beamed. "That was one of the first things Brains thought up. We have an automated manufacturing room, enter the details and it does what it's needed."

"What about materials?"

"Fabrication unit. As along as we have the raw material we can make anything."

"And where do you get the raw material?"

"Colonel Casey helps with the rarer things, but otherwise through TI."

"You're Embezzling?"

"Nah, IR is a subsidiary—"

"Wait, IR?"

"International Rescue. That's what I'm calling the organization. We'll rescue anyone, anytime, anywhere."

"And it's a subsidiary of TI?"

"Yes, though a bit of a secret one. I wasn't going to be able to fund it out of my pocket, that's for sure." They both laughed a little and then his father was motioning him to follow. "Come, I'll introduce you to Brains."

They continued through the caverns that wound their way through the extinct volcano and up into a lab where the dark haired scientist was working. "Brains. I'd like you to meet my middle son, Virgil."

The man turned around, his eyes wide behind his thick glasses. "Virgil, eh? N-nice to meet you."

Virgil took the outstretched hand and shook it. "I've heard a lot of a good things about you. I hope Dad's not too mean of an employer."

"N-no, not at all. He's letting me do things that o-others would shy away f-from." Brains pulled out a piece of paper from the stack he was working on. "Like this, for example. I've come up with some ways to load and unload Two."

Virgil looked down at the paper, and frowned. There were some excellent ideas, things he had never even dreamed about, but his engineering mind had already started working some things out. "This idea is good, but you'd have to have some major hydraulics to keep the nose up, and the pilot would be at an awkward angle, wouldn't he?"

"Y-yes, I have considered that as well. He would have a system similar to that of One."

"Looks like I've got a lot to catch up on if I'm going to be your assistant."

"A-assistant?" Brains looked from Virgil to his father and back again.

"Virgil just graduated. Mechanical engineering, top of his class. Just hired him, thought you'd like some help."

"Oh, c-congratulations." Brains beamed at Virgil. "I-I can't wait to tell you all of my ideas."

"How about we let Virgil get settled and think about it a bit."

"Oh yes of c-course."

"Come along, time to show you the house."

Virgil followed his father out of the lab and up a tunnel nodding as his father pointed out the infirmary, and a few of the mechanical rooms. They emerged out of a hidden door and into the main house.

It was large, bright, and decorated just like his father's office had been. "This is the main floor, with the lounge. There'll be some game rooms and a library on the way up to the bedrooms up there." He pointed up through the ceiling and then turned and pointed to a nearby staircase. "Kitchen is down that way."

"Wow." That was about all Virgil could say. Seeing the house from the plane and the cliff did not do it any justice. It was just wow. "Wait, if you have all of this set up, why was your watch not connecting to your calendar?"

His father laughed at that. "I hadn't set up the communications at that point. Just a small satellite so that Casey could contact me. I was too busy building the TV-21 with Brains to worry about a permanent solution. That's where Five came in. Or rather, that's what gave me the idea for Five. That's why Three has been built for a while now. Had to have a way of getting a satellite into orbit."

"I have to admit, I was worried about you, but you really are going to change the world with this." Vigil turned and gave his father a tight hug. "But you're still going to put family first, right? A rescue organization is going to take up a lot of time."

"That's my motivation in telling you all. It will be completely up to them, and you, but I'd like you all to help."

Virgil's excitement quickly faded as he stepped away from his father. "You want us to help? I mean, I get me, you hired me after all, but the others? They'd have to quit what their doing now."

"Yes, I know. That's why I said it was up to them. I won't force them if they want to keep going on the path they already are on. I'll have to find my pilots elsewhere then. Casey has some top candidates already."

Virgil thought about this for a moment. Thought about the ships and their purposes. It suddenly dawned on him that it was his family that had inspired everything about this. From it's purpose to it's functionality. His smile was back as he turned to look at the view. "I can't say for sure, but that is going to be one hard decision. I don't envy them one bit."

"So you've made yours?"

"How could I turn down something like this?" Virgil swept his arm out toward the ocean beyond. "Plus being able to help people, not only with the technology that Brains will be creating—I'm assuming it'll be slowly fed through Tracy Industries for public use?"

"Very slowly." His father laughed and joined him out in the middle of the room. "Brains is coming up with things that are far beyond what the GDF are even thinking of. Casey was a bit jealous."

"I'm jealous with what little I saw!" Virgil laughed with him a little, but it quickly faded. "We're going to be saving people who otherwise couldn't have been saved. I couldn't think of anything better to do with my life."

"I'm glad to hear it. So, which bird are you wanting to pilot?"

"Bird?"

"You didn't think I was just calling them by their numbers did you?"

"I assumed you hadn't thought of a proper name yet."

"I just recently adapted it, but they're the thunderbirds. Like the old Native American legend."

"So all of the ships will be super-sonic?"

"Well, not all, that little sub will be fast, but not quite that fast." His father let out a laugh. "So? Which one will it be? Scott's already claimed One. He always did want to fly the fastest plane out there."

"That does sound like Scott. I think you already know which one I'd choose."

"True, but I wanted to give you the choice. I've done enough damage trying to force you boys to follow certain paths."

"Took you long enough."

"Well, having one son walk out on you tends to hit the point home." His father still had a smile on his face, but it had faded.

"He'll talk to you again. I bet when he comes back from his stint undersea he won't be able to wait to tell you all he did and learn."

"I hope." His father walked up to him and put an arm around his shoulder leading him farther out into the room. "So, how do you feel about going down a tube upside down and backwards?"

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