The ramblings of a Nut who should be doing something else – Adelaide, South Australia


A Tale of Sotto Voce, post-Il Mago

“It’s him, Scott.”

“It’s him.”

Scott stared at the amber liquid as he tilted his glass in
the dim light. The reflection from the desk holoprojector contrasted heavily
with the general darkness of the room.

They knew who had hurt them. He knew who had hurt Virgil so
badly. Who had violated his mind and tortured his quiet, kind, artistic brother.
Threatened his life, his sanity.

The liquid shook and he had to force his hand to relax or
risk shattering the glass.

Eos had hunted down every detail she could find. Kayo and
Penny had done the same.

And John, with fire in his eyes, had calmly hacked through
medical records, bank records and even the clinic’s internal security network.

So Scott could sit here in the dark and stare at the shell
of a man who had nearly killed his brother.

They had found money. Kayo and John together had traced it
back to known Hood holdings.

They had found scans of the man’s brain. They confirmed that,
yes, Percival Fischler was as augmented as Virgil, if not more.

What they could not find was motivation.

And they couldn’t find the source of the technology.

Scott took a sip of the whisky and let the glass drop to the
table top.


John was a great hacker. Scott had no idea how he did it,
but he did. It was one of the reasons why he was on Thunderbird Five. There was
very little information denied his middle brother and Scott never hesitated to
ask him to exercise those skills if it could save a life.

Scott was no amateur with computer networks either, but John
was a magician with code.

He shivered at the thought.

Il Mago.

Scott watched him breathing.

The Newsvids had lied. This was not a man on his way to
recovery. His medical file reported an inexplicable stroke that had crippled
him. Best case scenario was locked-in syndrome, a terrifying condition that has
the patient living and conscious, but unable to move at all. Worst case, well,
he wasn’t dead, yet.

He shoved another swallow of whisky down his throat and fiddled
with the computer controls, panning the camera and zooming in.

Yes, John was a damn good hacker. And either intentionally or not, had given his brother the tools.

Scott could end this all now. With a flick of a switch, the
great Il Mago, mind rapist and attempted murderer, would die, taking all the
threat and terror he currently held over the Tracy family with him.

He would be saving
lives. Most likely that of his beloved brother and best friend. Not to mention
his niece, who apparently didn’t stand a chance against this bastard.

The whisky burnt going down.

It would be easy. Untraceable. It would solve so much.

So much.

And Virgil would be safe.



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