A Gatchaman fanfic by Cal
All Gatchaman characters copyright Tatsunoko Productions
Ceiran Morag Maragorm (Kai) borrowed from the stories
of Ennien Ashbrook (with alterations)
Based on: "Plan: Assassinate Dr. Nambu"



              The day that Doctor Nambu was to die

(A fanfic best read with the script of episode 31 within easy
reach)


As the car containing Nambu and his driver left the parking space
of the conference building and inserted itself in the stream of
traffic, another car, which had been waiting patiently in a
driveway, did likewise. The driver of this other car, which was
of a curious design, was a masked and uniformed young person with
a rose clenched between her teeth. Far from being romantic, she
made an extremely agitated impression; her hands on the wheel
shook with a nervosity that had accumulated over the last hour's
wait, and although the mask gave her a false impassiveness, tell-
tale drops of sweat ran out from under it and collected at the
rim of her jaw. Through clenched teeth, she repeated to herself
as though chanting: "When we join Galactor, we become zero... Our
emotions become zero..."
   The target car began to weave wildly through the traffic,
throwing its inmates about. The driver must have seen her. Now
was the time for action, and she instantly lost all fear. Coldly
and efficiently, she did what she had to do: chased the car out
to the bridge, tipped it over the side and threw the rose in
after it. The rose descended, and there was an underwater
explosion. She peered into the water to see if she could discern
a body, but it was still churning from the explosion, and nothing
rose. Then, almost ripping off the mask, she allowed herself to
fall over the wheel, sobbing with nervous tension. It was done.
She would leave the team, and its exacting captain. She would be
free. She would marry, and be happy.
   Dusk was falling, and she had to turn on the light inside the
car to find the wireless phone and dial the number. To the female
voice that replied, she said: "Number 2 reporting in. Mission
accomplished. Nambu is dead."
   She had not seen the other car eject its chassis and continue
underwater, to crawl out of the river far away from the bridge
like a slimy living thing.

Deep in the heart of the Galactor HQ in Cross Karakoram, the
doors to X's private audience chamber slid open and let out a
seriously annoyed-looking Katze. Striding along the virtually
deserted corridors so rapidly that his cloak floated on a current
of air, he made his way to a slightly less deserted level of
Galactor HQ, that of his own private chambers. Waving his guards
aside, he entered them almost without breaking his stride, and,
once inside, locked both entrances and pulled off his mask. Large
quantities of long blond hair spilled out over his collar.
Looking all the more seriously annoyed now that his face was
completely visible, he wiped his forehead, brushed the worst
tangles out of his hair, and changed rapidly from his own uniform
into that of the woman captain, transforming into female as a
final touch. Then he - now a she - went to the communications
room adjacent to his sleeping quarters and, without bothering to
turn on the monitor, barked a few commands into the intercom in a
voice that, although not as deep and gravelly as before, still
reminded of a chainsaw biting into a tough stub of wood. This
done, she packed a number of essentials into a bag, notably the
laptop she always carried around; paused for a minute to con-
sider; added, after some deliberation, two packets of cigarettes
and a lighter; girded her gun, slung the bag over her shoulder,
and left.

Within five minutes of leaving her room she already heard the
familiar footfall behind her, accompanied by the sound of a
winded middle-aged man breathing heavily. She sped up.
   "Hey, Berg! Waitaminnit!"
   She froze, turned her head in all directions to see if any
Galactor soldiers were about - there were none - and turned on
the man who had been following her with blazing eyes.
   "Never! *Never* refer to me by that name in public!" she all
but spat. "I've told you once before - inside this base, and
anywhere we might be overheard, you are to address me by my rank.
*Is that clear?* Or do you wish to be eliminated?"
   "Hey babe, ease up," the man replied in a voice that was
soothing, ingratiating and insinuating at the same time, typical-
ly the voice of a chief executive of Galactor addressing a
superior, which is what Beelzebub - that was hir nickname for him
- used to be; he had helped in training hir, and as a reward had
been demoted by Overlord X and quite royally pensioned off.
Materially, he had nothing to complain about - Katze had hoped
he'd settle down to some hobby and gradually disappear from the
public view - but the loss of position seemed to agonize him, and
with his knowledge of the organization structure and plenty of
time on his hands, he was always following people around, turning
into a bit of a spy. That was how he had discovered a link
between Berg Katze and the mysterious woman captain, of whom
nothing more was known than that she commanded a crack squad of
assassins, that she was often seen all over Galactor HQ, and that
she, atypically, survived all her missions; apparently her life
was worth more than that of an ordinary captain. He thought he
had discovered hir secret: "The great leader of Galactor is a wo-
man!!" and presumed a familiarity on the force of it. As the head
of Galactor, Katze had sufficient status to keep him off; but as
the captain of the masked assassins, she was defenceless against
his stalking, afraid that anything she did to repulse him might
attract people's attention to her. S/he might order him killed,
but was reluctant to do so; he was one of the old veterans, a
link with the past, and occupied a tender place in hir childhood
memories. In the present, however, he was getting obnoxious even
by Galactor standards. S/he considered "silencing" him; that
meant sending in a few bullies to beat him up by way of warning,
possibly blinding him and cutting out his tongue as circumstances
required... It would at least be easier than killing him, and
although he could do nothing against hir now, he was becoming
more and more dangerous, implying time and time again that he had
something he could use against hir, should s/he turn sour on
him...
   Beaming an incredibly bright and freezing smile at him, she
said: "I think I've passed the foetal stage by now... And so, if
you don't mind..."
   "What did the old man say?" Beelzebub wanted to know, hasten-
ing to keep up with her long stride.
   "Oh, I'm sure you've been listening at the door, Bub."
   "That's some great special effects he's got, isn't it?"
   "Yes," she answered shortly, wondering how much he knew about
X. Seeing her ill at ease encouraged him to make his next move:
"So old Nambu's still alive?"
   She raised her flaxen eyebrows in mock surprise. "My, my. You
*have* been listening at the door."
   "Just an educated guess."
   "O.k., if that makes you happy, Nambu's still alive, and I've
just been sent off to kill him. Satisfied?"
   "With the Devil Stars?" He stopped for a moment with his jaw
hanging, and had to make a dash to catch up with her again.
   "Yes, what's wrong with that?" she snapped.
   "Berg honey, this is a man's job. Let me take care of it."
   "Who, you?" She stopped too, and prodded his belly. It was
acquiring a definite bulge. One of the cruellest smiles she had
ever produced in her life so far lit up her face as she said:
"Face it, Bub, you're a has-been. You couldn't squash a marshmal-
low, much less take on ISO."
   "If I had command of the Galactor forces..."
   "You did. And lost it. Must be a reason for that, eh? And as
for your Galactor goons..." Her hand made a motion of throwing
something over one shoulder, a gesture of utmost contempt, and
she resumed her striding.
   "Well, at least they're *men*," he said defensively, not
having regained enough composure to think of anything more
intelligent.
   "Oh, *are* they? I'd pit my assassins against your goons any
day."
   "Wanna bet?"
   "Bet what?"
   "I bet you they'll botch it. If I win, will you promote me?"
   "And what if you lose?"
   "I'll leave you alone and devote the remainder of my life to
the construction of model aeroplanes."
   "That'll be the day... No, I think I'll pass."
   "Chicken."
   "Quite. And now, goodbye, Bubby." She slipped into an elevator
before he could stop her, the doors shutting out the portly,
greying ex-Galactor chief in civvies and anything he might still
have to say, and watched the numbers flickering as it raced up to
take her to the launching deck of the Devil Star.
   But before she walked out into the densely patrolled launching
pad and up the ramp of the Devil Star to address her assembled
team, she slid into a cubicle in the wall - one of the computer
cubicles commonly used to transfer commands and technical or
flight data - shut and locked the cubicle door, and logged on to
XAX. This was the most important mainframe of Galactor HQ,
through which s/he could directly communicate with Overlord X
himself if s/he had to; it was a data base containing all essen-
tial information about Galactor, the blueprints of every mecha
under construction, and the files of each and every Galactor
member, from Katze's private attendants to the lowliest goons
scrubbing floors in the kitchens.
   It was also Kai's and Katze's private bulletin board.
   Most of the messages posted there were just plain silly: a
scan of a rather explicit postcard captioned "Even Dirty Old
Mutants Need Love" to which s/he had replied: "Are you out of
your mind? If X sees this, I'm *dead*." Kai's next contribution
had been a sound file of a funeral march, causing several goons
and their captain to look up as they passed the cubicle. The last
message Katze had posted, in the privacy of hir own control room,
had been a long bitch about yet another failed attempt to build
an invincible mecha and conquer the Earth, and how it was really
the fault of the stupid scientists who hadn't taken into account
that etc. etc. etc. She already knew what Kai's answer would be
before she saw it appear on the screen: "My heart bleeds." Kai
wasn't the sentimental type.
   She tapped on the rim of the keyboard panel, trying to think
of something witty, then decided to go for a straight message:
"Nambu still not dead damn damn damn. Going out in Devil Star to
nab him. Impersonating - dig this - Anderson's P.A. BTW, Bub's
getting on my nerves; what should I do about him?"

The woman captain was quite comfortably asleep when the porta-
phone beside her bed began to make wild blipping noises. Cursing
and fumbling in the dark (it was early morning, and the curtains
of the room she was sleeping in were shut) she found the
receiver, put it to her cheek, activated it and, thinking this
was one of Kai's pranks, mumbled sleepily: "Whaddisthis, my wake-
up call?"
   "Captain?" The voice was far too young, as well as much too
obedient to be Kai's. She sat up straight. "Yes?" she said
briskly, hoping her sudden energy would wipe out the caller's
memory of her first reply.
   "There's someone here who wants to see you, captain. A member
of Galactor, but he refuses to give his name and rank. He says he
must speak to you urgently."
   Something began to sink in the pit of the woman captain's
stomach. It might be a genuine emergency at some base, requiring
her immediate return; but she feared it would be something much
worse. "This anonymous Galactor wouldn't happen to have
pinstripes, a paunch and a face like a frog who's stuffed a
potato in either cheek?" Rather startled, the Devil Star
addressed confirmed this. "O.k., tell him that it's..." She
groped for her watch, and pressed the button that lit up its
face, "...six o'clock, that I need my beauty sleep and that he's
not to bother me until I get up. And put him in with number 7.
She'll just *love* that." The woman captain deactivated the
phone, cutting the connection before her subordinate had time to
answer.
   Suppressing a grin at the thought of number 5 (it had to be
number 5, or else it was number 11, who had come along as a
spare) literally transmitting this message to an ex-chief execu-
tive of Galactor, she yawned, stretched in a superbly feline way
and bounded out of bed, landing almost directly in front of the
window to open the curtains. If it was going to be a crazy day,
she might as well go along with the flow. Pulling her laptop out
of her bag and connecting it to the hotel room's only power
point, she used the remote modem to contact the Devil Star's
shipboard computer, which contacted the mainframe of the nearest
Galactor base, which connected her with XAX at Karakoram Cross,
all the way on the other side of the world. What a wonderful
thing the Net was.
   Kai had left three messages, one of which had been submitted
just before the Devil Star's take-off last night. She selected
and decrypted it. It was about a new computer virus Kai had been
working on to wreck ISO data banks, which worked like this: it
installed itself comfortably in a given data base, unobtrusively
marking every file processed, and then, when all available files
had been marked (or a percentage thereof, in case a faster result
was needed) it erased them all in one fell swoop while showing a
rabbit making faces on the screen, and then permanently scrambled
the ROM. Kai's idea was that the image file played should be
selected according to the number of files erased, as well as
their security status, so that really important data should have
a thumbs-up rabbit bouncing happily about, while lesser files
only got a droopy bunny mouthing the text "What a bummer". "Just
to make ISO feel we really appreciate their efforts," she'd
added. The captain selected "Reply" and typed: "This is definite-
ly the sickest idea to come out of your deranged brain since that
bouncing mecha-ball thing. Let's do it."
   The other two messages were shorter, and answers to her own.
The first read: "You're impersonating WHO???!!!" with the blink-
ing image of a bug-eyed goldfish under it. The captain laughed so
hard that the computer danced on her lap, (but in a soundless
way, like an asthma patient suffering a severe attack; she had a
thing about not wanting to be overheard) and she was forced to
steady it with one hand, using the other to sweep back the
tangled mass of hair that had fallen across her face as a result
of her convulsions. The captain in a good mood was almost a more
fearsome sight than the captain in an average mood: normally, she
looked like a human shark; when this much amused, she looked like
a human shark on acid. But the second message made her regain her
composure entirely:
   "You want me to silence him?"

She had showered, dressed and brushed, and was as far as the
fifth exercise on her list of morning exercises - the one which
involved bending over and putting the palms of the hands flat on
the floor, then pushing the hands forwards while bending still
lower - when Beelzebub, without knocking or announcing himself,
opened the door and entered. He looked as if he were going to
launch into a speech, but was stopped short at the sight of her
doubled up in the purple bodysuit with her hair spilling over the
floor. She finished the exercise at leisure, clasping her hands
behind her back and bending in the opposite direction, arching
her back and spine so far that her hair once again touched the
ground, then straightening up again like a sapling to turn a
sardonic smile on him.
   "*Yes*, Bubby?"
   He gestured towards the patch of carpet she had just flat-
tened, and whistled in admiration.
   "Oh, yes. I like to keep in shape."
   "I see," he said approvingly, his eyes roving over said shape.
"Very impressive. Keeps you young. I'd never give you thirty.
But, ehm... you're not actually going to go through with this,
are you?"
   "Why not? And what makes you think you have the right to
interfere, by the way?"
   "I'm worried about you, baby," he said in a voice intended to
sound very sincere, as he tried to slip an arm around her waist.
In a graceful whirl, she was well out of reach and pressing
buttons on the portaphone. "I'd worry about Nambu if I were you.
Hello? Number 5, all assembled? She's... what? O.k., we'll be
seeing her then. Why did you let that fat goon get out? He was...
oh, I see. Well, tell her it's all just part of the job. A Devil
Star must always be ready to face any situation. She's... Oh, did
she? Good for her. Why didn't she give him a black eye, too?" A
triumphant smile curved her lips as she saw Beelzebub squirming
behind the bed. "What he's here for? Beats me. Sosai X must have
sent him... No, he used to be. Yes, when I was... Oh, of course,
you were too young then. Never mind." The conversation was
getting a bit personal. "Everyone got their instructions and
their gear? Remember, this is going to be a piece of cake, but
it's important. I don't want to end up with piles of dead bodies
the way Katze always does." She frowned as she saw Bub smirking.
"I want *one* dead body, and I want it to be Nambu's. You all
know when take-off is... O.k., scatter." She hung up.
   "I've got to hand it to you, you're a more effective leader
than Katze," Bub said, his smirk becoming still wider. "What do
you say we get rid of that idiot and take over Galactor
together?"
   She stalked over to him and lowered her face until it was at
exactly the same level as his. Her eyes were very, very cold, the
pupils contracted into tiny pinpoints, and her shoulders were
drawn up so far as to suggest a vampire's wings.
   "Get rid of *which* idiot?"
   He grinned rather weakly, and swallowed. The great leader of
Galactor might be an arrogant airhead, but the woman captain was
tough and packed a mean wallop. It was hard to imagine they were
actually the same person. "Aw c'mon, Berg," he pleaded. "Everyone
knows who you are. Pretty soon everyone'll know *what* you are,
too. You need someone to help you, someone to take care of
things... Someone who knows the ropes, someone you can trust...
It must be pretty lonely for you, all the way at the top... You
an' me babe, it could work out... See? I mean, you can't just run
a big organization like this on your own, can you?"
   She kept staring at him fixedly until she was satisfied every
inch of his forehead was drenched with sweat. Then she said, very
softly, in a voice slightly deeper than her own:
   "Oh, I don't, Bubby. Believe me, I don't."

The girl whose rank was 2 (meaning that she had the highest rank
in the squad, because number 1 was the woman captain herself) was
tearing around the race track like a creature possessed. It was
always like this; any assignment gave her nightmares and shaky
knees days beforehand. She knew that she would lose her fear the
moment she was on the job, masked, armed and ready, but for now
all she could think of was controlling her emotions. "When we
join Galactor, we become zero, our emotions become zero." Ergo,
she was obviously not cut out to be a Galactor. Biting her lip
almost hard enough to make it bleed (and skidding dangerously in
that last turn; she ought to slow down a little, but she
couldn't, speed was the only thing that could soothe her nerves
now) she continually said to herself: "Why can the children of
Galactors never be free of Galactor? Why? Why?" Her captain had
promised to release her from active service as soon as she became
a full Galactor, which meant, as soon as she completed an assign-
ment successfully, but she had produced failure after failure,
and the effort seemed hopeless. Still, she knew that all kinds of
privileges were being extended to her: she was always allowed to
take the car and go off for a spin when her nerves threatened to
overcome her; she was kept out of the actual fighting, and
restricted to sabotage and explosives, her specialty (oops,
another tricky turn); she had inherited her rank directly from
her mother, she knew full well that she had done nothing to
deserve it, and apparently she would get to keep it even after
she left the actual forces to settle down to a civilian life; of
course she would still be working for Galactor, but... The last
turn being too much for her car, it skidded again, and slammed
into the rail. The blow instantly knocked her senseless, at
exactly the same moment that the other driver on the race track
was having a flashback to his parents' death.

Meanwhile, the woman captain had gone outside to make a call with
the portable phone - having locked Bub inside her room first -
and had then changed into civilian clothes, or rather, had put
them on over the body suit, much to Bub's disappointment. "When
we get back home," she told him grimly, "You're grounded for the
next twenty *years*. That ought to stop you from following me
around."
   "Man, the cage that could keep me hasn't been built yet. So,
when are you going to put on the disguise?"
   She rolled her eyes upward in a terribly expressive way; this
was something s/he did rather often, only usually the mask hid
it.
   "I *am* disguised, you goon-minded idiot. What do you think
this stupid outfit's for?" She tapped the lapel of the blazer-
like jacket, then re-applied herself to brushing her hair - a
task that seemed to take up most of her life - and tying it into
some sort of manageable bundle. Bub watched her with interest.
   "So now you look like Anderson's secretary?"
   "I look like *a* secretary, you twit! Anderson doesn't *have*
a secretary, or else I'd have known about it!! The point is that
Nambu *thinks* I'm Anderson's secretary, so he'll get on the
train with me!!! Is that clear??"
   "Do you mean," he asked incredulously, "that you're imperson-
ating someone who doesn't exist, to take him to a freak accident
that never happened, in a train full of people so fast it could
take you to the other side of the world before you realized it,
backed up by just a handful of girls, one of which actually
failed to take him out the last time; and you think it'll work?"
   "Oh, it'll work. Believe me."
   He sat down hard on the bed, eyes staring. "You're mad."
   "Certainly. But you knew that." As a finishing touch to her
"civilian" disguise, she applied some mascara and lipstick,
examined her face in the mirror to see what the effect was, and
lowered her eyelids to attain a slightly sultry expression that
softened the voracious sharpness of her features. Then she packed
all her belongings in her bag. If all went well, she would be the
last to check out.
   "He won't go along with it," Bub said finally.
   "He will. He is that stupid. I'll just say:..." She switched
to a purring voice that went quite well with the lowered eyelids
and the thick mascara, "`Hello Doctor Nambu, I'm the ISO investi-
gator, Anderson asked me to accompany you to area D', and I'll
flash a winning smile at him... He'll fall for it. You'll see."
   "I tell you, he won't buy it," Bub insisted stubbornly.
   "Why not?" she demanded.
   "Because, Berg sweetheart, I have seen *crocodiles* with more
winning smiles than yours."
   "Oh, izzat so?" she gurgled at him in the kind of voice that
generally sends men crazy, and lowered her face towards him like
a snake, smiling all the way. Encouraged, he drew closer.
   "Listen, if you really want to succeed..." He was attempting
to put an arm around her shoulders, a feat made harder to accom-
plish by the fact that her shoulders were at the level of his
head. Laughing, she whirled out of reach again.
   "Why don't you go try your luck on the crocodiles," she said
sweetly.


   "She's late."
   This statement was delivered with all the grimness that the
woman captain could muster, and it sounded like the pronunciation
of a death sentence. She was standing in the road in front of the
hotel that had been chosen as a basis for their operation, arms
crossed, jaws set, accompanied by two Devil Stars in civilian
clothing and the inevitable Beelzebub. A casual passer-by would
only see a middle-aged man and three young women, even though the
third was exceptionally tall.
   Slightly intimidated by her steely expression, Bub neverthe-
less ventured: "Do I take it you're referring to your little
protegee, Lina... Lorna... whateveritis... The one from the
Asakura case?"
   "That was her mother, you senseless goon," the captain
snarled, without taking her eyes off the streets. "She couldn't
have been more than eight at the time. They start young, but not
*that* young."
   "Of course, you're the expert," he returned smoothly. "But,
errr, do you think she's really suitable? She hasn't had a
mission she didn't blow. Maybe you're presuming too much on her
mother's reputation?"
   "She's inexperienced is all... And speaking of failed
missions, I don't think you should be the one to throw stones."
Nor should any of us, she thought to herself.
   "And then there's this young man she's got involved with, the
cleric with the anti-Galactor sentiments... Really, I'm amazed
you haven't put a stop to that yet."
   "He's harmless. And once he's married, that'll quite effec-
tively put a stop to the anti-Galactor sentiments, I should
think."
   "Is he? He's certainly got your number 2 mixed up."
   "She was mixed up from the start. She's a hopeless case,
period." The captain was surprised at her own outburst; appar-
ently the pressure was bringing out a part of her that she
thought she'd well and truly suppressed.
   "Then why give her any missions at all?"
   "I owe it to her family. They did a lot for me. Don't worry,
if she pulls this one off - and she should, she's got the whole
squad plus a bunch of goons to back her up - it'll be her last."
   "And if she doesn't pull it off?"
   The woman captain ignored him.
   "Really, B... err captain, you're taking an undue amount of
trouble over her. One could almost accuse you of favouritism."
   Triumphantly, she turned on him; now she had him nailed.
   "Speaking of favouritism... What about the the way you follow
me about, interfering in my missions, trying to locate my per-
sonal files, nagging at me to get you promoted and making your
so-called business proposals? Not the kind of behaviour I'd
tolerate from anyone, is it?" She gestured the Devil Stars to
move out of earshot; this was a mite too personal for them to
hear. Obediently, they complied. "I'd like you to know that you
are presently persona non grata with several high-ranking members
of Galactor, one of them being my illustrious boss." She didn't
know if this was true - she'd kept Sosai X out of it as much as
possible - but it sounded nicely menacing. "You definitely stand
a poorer chance of surviving this little venture than my so-
called protegee. I wonder what excuse I'll have to think up this
time, to save your miserable skin... If you knew what you were
risking, maybe you'd hesitate a bit before making such a fool of
yourself." She drew a breath and tried to gauge the effect of her
tirade on him.
   He was either too stupid or too desperate to be fazed. "Well,
your illustrious boss won't last forever, will he? And if we
teamed up, we might considerably hasten his demise..."
   The captain rolled her eyes in an expression of hitherto
unsurpassed martyrdom and stamped in frustration, the cracking of
her heel on the pavement sounding like a gunshot and causing
several heads to turn. She lowered her voice, injecting into it a
venom that would cause anyone to cringe but Sosai X himself.
   "That's it. You're going back to HQ *now*. And I don't want to
have to--"
   "O.k., all right; but please, please reconsider my proposal.
You wouldn't regret it... I know a lot about this organization
your boss doesn't, I could swing the balance. I'd be very use-
ful."
   "Bub." Their heads were now very close together, and he was
drinking her every word. "Listen very carefully, as I shan't
repeat this. If you were the last man on Earth, I'd turn right
round and go check out the women. Understood?" She straightened
up and clapped her hands to summon the Devil Stars, who were at
her side in seconds. "Number 11, take this man back to HQ, and
see he doesn't get away. You are currently dispensed from the
mission, but remember to check in at the terminal when you get
back, and enter code "SD13". Bub, you be good now. I don't want
to see your face again until after the mission." He hesitated,
glancing from the captain to the decided-looking young woman that
had laid hold of his arm. These women were trained to kill with
one blow. He sighed and obeyed. As they were walking in the
general direction of number 11's flight craft, he dulled by the
disappointment of the captain's refusal, he seemed to be struck
by a flash of insight. A rather nasty smile spread all over his
face. "Aha," he said contentedly to himself. "Aha."

   Ordering the other Devil Star to keep watching for number 2 -
and chew her out thoroughly when and if she arrived - the woman
captain headed back into the hotel and up to the floor where the
remaining members of the squad were stationed, lounging or pacing
impatiently, guns and backpacks ready, long coats over their
weapons and uniforms, masks in pockets, waiting for the action to
start. They knew what the matter was; they were no goons who
needed everything explained to them. "You leave when I give the
sign," she said, and some of them nodded to show they had heard.
Digging for her key, she opened the door to the room she thought
she wouldn't be needing any more - a good thing she hadn't
returned it - closed and locked the door behind her, pulled the
notebook from her bag, plugged in and logged on. She desperately
needed to calm her nerves. Not that there was any danger of their
actual objective failing, but DS2's running off had unsettled
her, as had the latest intrusion on her privacy by Beelzebub. He
was obviously *very* eager to regain his former power, and ready
to stoop to anything to do it. She doubted that even silencing
would stop him... Damn...
   No new messages from Kai yet; well, it was only hours since
her last logon. She chose "New" and poured her agitation onto the
bulletin board.
   "Mission about to screw up because Dona Catalina can't be
bothered to show up in time. Boy will I be glad when she leaves -
that Alan guy's as good an excuse as any. A far cry from her old
mom! I can only hope the genes'll be passed on to the next
generation... Speaking of marriage, Bub's on his old hobby horse
again; he wants me to marry him so we can rule the world
together. I'd rather marry you <tee hee hee>"
   Her face was downcast as she typed the last line. It was not
entirely a joke, although Kai would probably take it as such. The
fact was, Kai didn't seem to get on very well with otoko-Katze;
whereas she would readily collapse against the woman captain in
laughter or punch her in the stomach, her attitude to the great
leader of Galactor was compounded of deference and an embarrass-
ment bordering on resentment. "She probably dislikes the whole
leader rigmarole," the captain thought. Although Kai was one of
the most loyal and hard-bitten Galactors around, she definitely
had a problem with authority. Or it might be the mask. "Or maybe
it's me she doesn't like. But that's crazy... We're the same
person. Aren't we?"
   Re-packing her bag, she left and locked the room again, this
time for good. Whether number 2 showed up or not, they would have
to leave in ten minutes, the assassins to re-enter their vessel
and be taken to the right location, and she to meet with Nambu.
She sent the remaining Devil Star inside and mounted guard on the
steps herself, face composed to hide her inner fury, just as a
racing car drew up in front of the hotel and a familiar figure
emerged.

                            *   *   *

As she had predicted, Nambu swallowed the "ISO investigator" bit
hook, line and sinker, although the young pilot he'd brought with
him seemed considerably less at ease. He was probably a secret
agent from ISO; never mind, she would deal with him later. Now
was the time to contact Devil Star. Using the tiniest of trans-
mitters, she made a connection to the captain in charge of the
vessel.
   "Yes, no sign of Gatchaman... Well, I told you Nambu's a fool.
What do you mean, did anyone... Well yes, a bunch of teens and a
bratty kid who called me a beanpole. Won't he laugh on the other
side of his face... Yes, but that's *your* job, isn't it? That's
right, if you spot a suspicious-looking vehicle, nuke it. ...No
don't do that, the whole thing's supposed to look like an acci-
dent. That means *no* bullet-riddled bodies or anything else
which might give a clue... Because we're not supposed to attract
attention, you idiot. What? ...Yes, I suppose that would attract
some attention." She chuckled. "O.k., you can put me through to
the girls now."

Something had gone wrong. And for a change it wasn't number 2's
fault; no, the track had been blown up in two places as planned,
and the young pilot with it. Good girl; she would be an asset to
the team if she wasn't so impressionable, and prone to nerves;
she was still one of the best saboteurs on the team, despite her
age. And after this she would marry and retire from active
service, much to everyone's relief, including Katze's. No, what
had happened was that Gatchaman had turned up out of nowhere, and
was currently blocking her escape route (Nambu had disappeared;
but he was still in the train car somewhere, she was sure) while
the train, or rather what was left of it, was due to plunge down
the hole in the track in a matter of minutes. As usual, the goons
(who had been posing as fellow-passengers) were doing no good;
half of them were dead, the other half mostly a danger to her and
themselves. Keeping an eye on the Eagle in case he decided to
spring, she unobtrusively slipped a capsule from her mouth in her
hand. That would distract his attention for a second...

The train car fell into the depths of the lake with a most
satisfying splash just as the woman captain, having divested
herself in a single movement of her civilian disguise and leapt
into the Devil Star, had run to the onboard monitor to witness
the mission's conclusion. Slamming her fists on the monitor
panel, she let out a mighty whoop that surprised several goons
and ran to number 20, who was drawing up a provisory list of
casualties. Things looked grim for the team; four or five of the
members assigned were definitely dead, two were possibly uncon-
scious, and as for number 2... The captain's attention was drawn
back to the monitor by members of the crew shouting and pointing,
and she arrived to the sight of the God Phoenix emerging from the
bottom of the lake, carrying, in its top dome, three figures, one
fat and two skinny, the tallest of which looked suspiciously like
Doctor Nambu. Mercifully, she was spared the sight of number 2
collapsing with a shuriken in her heart, a rose pinned to her
breast.

On learning of number 2's death, she immediately posted a long
and distraught message to the XAX bulletin board, accusing
herself of having killed a member of her own team (conveniently
forgetting about all the people she *had* killed, or the drubbing
she was going to get from X). Kai's reply was short and succinct,
and showed the side to Kai's character that she would rather have
forgotten about: "She died like a Galactor."

Something impelled the woman captain to return and oversee the
salvaging of the bodies - insofar as there was anything left to
salvage. Devil Star 2 was laid out in the refrigerated morgue and
labelled preparatory to being packed in a numbered body bag and
transported to B. C. Island. The mask had slipped off her head;
her rib cage lay open, and part of her jaw had been blown away.
It was not a pretty sight.

                            *   *   *

In a near-deserted officer's mess, Katze was sitting on a lonely
couch with hir legs outstretched and hir head leaned back,
staring through casually slitted eyes at the level of wine in the
crystal wineglass that s/he was balancing between hir fingers,
dangerously tipping it. Unmasked and still in the woman captain's
outfit, hir voracious face had a strangely sad and noble express-
ion, rather like that of a praying mantis contemplating suicide.
S/he swirled the wine around in the glass in an abstracted
fashion.
   Beelzebub came in, all smirks and smugness; he had heard of
the mission's failure.
   "What do I hear? Did your little protegee get herself a
rather, um, explosive corsage?"
   "Not funny, Bub," s/he said with the tight little smile that
usually preceded immediate execution. But he was not to be
stopped.
   "Oh, her mother should be so pleased! And what about that nice
young man she was going to marry, what was he called... Alex,
Allen, or something like that, I believe..."
   "*Shut up!*" Katze snapped, hir nerves suddenly giving. "I am
currently experiencing a crisis of faith, which, as you may
appreciate, is not the most comforting or constructive state of
mind to be in when one is about to confront one's superior to
explain a negative result!"
   "Maybe," he suggested unctuously, "you just don't have what it
takes to bear the strain of leadership."

It was then that Katze decided s/he would definitely have him
silenced.


                             THE END

Epilogue:

Number 2's body was given an honorary funeral at which a great
number of Galactors and some non-Galactors attended, including
her fiance, who swore revenge against the killers. Ironically, it
was he who was killed by the Condor in episode 81.

Beelzebub was "silenced" by Kai herself, who left a gleeful
message to that effect on XAX's bulletin board. He escaped,
machine-gunning some innocent passers-by to get himself
imprisoned, and offered ISO Katze's secret in exchange for
protection. He finally got his comeuppance in episode 88.

Nambu survived all further attempts on his life, including the
destruction of Crescent Coral in episode 92, and discovered
Katze's secret anyway in episode 102.

Kai was eliminated by Overlord X for "anti-Galactor activities"
just before episode 52, and Katze's mind was wiped of her memory;
but from then on hir insanity took a definite turn for the worse.

Katze hirself committed suicide in episode 105 by jumping into a
lava pit, under the impression that the Earth was about to blow
up in thirty minutes.