Santa Wears Blue

Santa Wears Blue

Chapter One

I’ve been writing Santa Wears Blue for the last two years. Where we holiday over Christmas hasn’t got any electricity (see “Painting the Bach”) so I ration the use of my laptop. But these last two years I’ve given myself a Christmas present, on the magical day itself, of an hour of Thunderbirds writing time. This year I decided that it was about time that I got stuck in and actually finished the story. I started in September and, while it’s finished, I haven’t polished it as much as I would like. But, it’s either post now, or wait another twelve months…

As usual I can not lay claim to anyone or anything in this story, except for the residents of the town of Puzz (and possibly the ORB and the SAVER.)

As usual I would like to thank Quiller, D.C. and Calliope for their assistance and ideas. Quiller especially, because it was a photo that she sent to me that gave rise to the story… something that sparked two ideas that I just had to write a story about.

Any similarity to any persons living or dead is purely wishful thinking on my part.

:-)

Purupuss

Santa Wears Blue

Dedicated to all those people who risk their necks to help others; especially those whose only remuneration is a word of thanks. I hope they all have a merry Christmas and a restful New Year.

Chapter One

It had been a long hard rescue, Scott Tracy reflected as Tracy Island sped into view. Called out on December 20th, Tracy Island time, here he was returning on December 24th. Well, actually, it was so late on Christmas Eve, that you may as well call it Christmas Day. He stifled a yawn. He'd managed to catch some cat naps over the last few days, but it had clearly not been enough. He yawned again; Christmas Day or not, he was going to hit the sack as soon as he got home. If he didn't he was pretty sure that by the time Christmas dinner rolled around he would find himself snoring facedown in his grandmother's gravy.

Scott gave a tired grin. He well remembered the excitement of Christmas morning as a child - lying in bed in eager anticipation of the moment when he could clamber out and run into his parents' room with the expectation that it was time to open the presents which lay invitingly under the Christmas tree. Of course, as his younger brothers began to learn of the thrill of getting up early on Christmas morning, Scott had decided that, as the eldest Tracy son, it was his job to ensure that they all stayed in bed until a reasonable hour... That hour usually being ten minutes after he'd ushered the last of them back to their rooms.

Scott yawned yet again and glanced at the onboard chronometer. Somehow even as a young boy, the idea of being up at 12.02am on Christmas morning, especially after being more or less awake for the previous 100 hours, never appealed to him.

His mind wandered back to Christmases past and Scott gave a chuckle as he remembered his younger brothers' steadfast refusal to give up their belief in Santa Claus. Scott had denounced the mythical figure the year his mother had died. In his eyes any world that could take a mother so cruelly from young boys, could not sustain a 'merry old elf' who gave away gifts without expectation of thanks. Despite that belief he could not bring himself to suppress his siblings' seasonal optimism. It was almost a relief when Alan declared at the breakfast table one Christmas morning that he knew who Father Christmas really was because he'd woken during the night and seen the culprit sneak into his bedroom with a full stocking.

These quiet musings had preoccupied Scott's mind so much, that he nearly overshot the island. Hoping that he hadn't woken anyone, he did a u-turn and returned to the swimming pool, swinging Thunderbird One around so that she was on the vertical above her launch bay. He'd done this landing so many times in these last few years, that everything happened almost instinctively and without conscious thought... That was until the impact alarm sounded and the motors cut out. At this point Thunderbird One's computers took control to ensure his survival and the anti-gravitational units kicked in simultaneously with the extinguishing of the landing jets, leaving the rocket plane suspended in mid-air. As he quickly ran his eyes over the control panel Scott was relieved to discover that nothing was amiss. But what had impacted with Thunderbird One's hull?

Not expecting to see anything but a dull glow from the villa, a few Christmas lights, and the stars in the sky, Scott glanced outside.

An elfin face, looking as surprised as Scott felt, slid down the cockpit window and out of sight. It was followed by a creature that appeared to have at least twenty eyes and fifty legs.