The Tracy Celeste

The Tracy Celeste

As usual, thanks to D.C. and Calliope for their help. And, of course, a big thank you to Quiller, who not only was my principle proof-reader, but also came up with several fantastic ideas that made this story 'hauntingly' good.

All canon characters, places, situations, and equipment are the property of Granada. Everything else is mine.

Please ask my permission before posting this story elsewhere.

Thanks.

FAB

:-) Purupuss

Even as a ghost, Gordon Tracy enjoys a bit of mischief.

The Tracy Celeste

"It's not fair," Gordon Tracy complained to the Pacific Ocean.

If the Pacific Ocean said anything in reply, Gordon was too far away to hear it. He sighed and turned from the window to look at his immediate surroundings. High-tech computers bleeped, lights flashed, reels scrolled and a constant burble of voices tried to convince him that he was not alone.

Except that Gordon was very aware that he was alone. Alone on board Thunderbird Five. Alone on October 31st.

Halloween.

"It's not fair," he repeated.

After April 1st (April Fool's Day), Halloween was his favourite day of the year and this year he'd been planning to make it something extra special. It wasn't his fault that the previous afternoon his grandmother had found that box of ultra-realistic robotic spiders before he'd had a chance to stash them away. Her resultant screams had brought the entire household running, and the threatening looks from his brothers (as though he'd meant her to drop and break the punch bowl!) made him think that he wasn't long for this world.

But those looks hadn't been as bad to bear as when his father had banished him up into space. Gordon had a sneaking suspicion that it was an instinct for self-preservation, as much as a need to punish his son, which had dictated Jeff Tracy's decision to send the red-head to Thunderbird Five for a week. To add insult to injury, everyone had seemed pleased to see him go… Everyone except for John, who seemed to be resigning himself to returning to his beloved 'bird to discover green goo oozing from the taps, his sheets apple-pied, and a giant inflated polar bear crammed into the toilet cubicle.

Gordon sighed again. John was safe. The prankster had been marched off to Thunderbird Five so fast that he'd barely been given the opportunity to throw some clothes into a case, let along grab something from his kitbag of tricks.

What was especially galling, was that at the moment everyone else in the family were involved something that had to be infinitely more interesting than standing around waiting for information to waft through the airwaves. Thunderbird Three had no sooner returned to Earth when Jeff had received a call from Tracy Industries' head office stating that his presence was needed there immediately. Grandma, Tin-Tin and Kyrano all had purchases that they needed to make for the household (including a new punch bowl) and so had taken the opportunity to travel with him. These four had no sooner touched down on American soil when International Rescue's services were requested. This was to an emergency so large that Scott, left in charge at home, had made the unusual decision to send not only Virgil, John and Alan, but also Brains and, after some brief soul-searching, himself; theorising that any major decisions could be made just as easily at ground zero as from a small island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

And so, for the first time since International Rescue had started operations, Tracy Island was devoid of human life.

And Gordon, after that burst of excitement when the initial call for help came through, had nothing to do. He was alone and very, very bored, despite having been up here for only just a few hours.

"It's not fair," he repeated.

An unusual sound filled Thunderbird Five's control room and Gordon frowned. This wasn't a noise he was used to. With some trepidation he approached the console, hoping that he wasn't going to find that red warning light to tell him that Thunderbird Five was going into decaying orbit or the scarlet one stating that the satellite had been damaged by a meteor. Or worse still - one saying that the shower's water supply had been exhausted!

He pushed the button that was flashing amber and read the resulting printout. "Visitors? I'm sure no-one's expecting visitors at home." He ran through a mental checklist of who it could be. Most people, such as his father's ex-Air Force buddies or Tin-Tin's suitors, were only willing to make the long Pacific crossing to the Tracys' home by plane. It was highly unusual for someone to arrive by boat, unless it was a sailor just happy to find land and respite from their sea voyage across the ocean.