Chapter 9

“Lord Katse! Lord Katse!”

The Lord of Galactor looked up, his red-rimmed eyes blinking rapidly. He had gone for far too long without sleep, and his lack of success was only causing his frustration with the entire situation to grow into something of monumental proportions. He had discovered nothing, and with every passing second, Berg Katse knew that Leader X’s wrath would only grow more severe.

He had to return to Cross Karokorum. But how could he do so without his child?

“Lord Katse!” cried a soldier, running into the room with two other guards. “We found it!”

“You… what?” Katse stood up rapidly, pushing himself away from the control panel at which he had been working.

“This child!” the man said, holding out a white bundle to the Galactor Leader. “It tested positive. Twice.”

“Twice?” Eagerly, Berg Katse took two long strides over toward the soldiers, holding out his arms. But once the child was deposited in his arms, a sensation of awkwardness overtook him.

“I want to see the test results!” he demanded haughtily, to cover his discomposure. Hurriedly, one of the soldiers stepped forward, downloading the data from the computer pad into the main computer system. Once this task was complete, he pulled up the last two test results on the main monitor.

Katse stared at the data, his eyes widening in surprise and delight. It was true. This child was a match for his own DNA. And thanks to the mutations Leader X had made to this fundamental core of his physical makeup, Berg Katse knew that there was no possibility of any mistake.

“Good work. You’ll all be commended when we get back to Headquarters.” Katse dismissed the men with a wave. “And a week’s leave.”

“Thank you, Lord Katse!” the men answered enthusiastically, bowing and scraping as they departed.

Berg Katse looked down at the white-wrapped bundle in his arms. Gently, he pulled back the edge of the nubby blanket to peer at a tiny, wrinkled face, framed by a loose, pink, knitted cap.

Pink. A girl. He had a daughter.

She was sleeping. His daughter sighed peacefully, her lips moving slightly as she dozed, completely unaware of the strange path her life had taken in the last hour. He shifted his arms, jostling her slightly, and her eyes opened slowly, still heavy with sleep. He saw a deep blue color peep out from underneath her delicate eyelids, and her exquisite rosebud mouth opened in a tiny, toothless yawn.

She was perfect.

His control panel chimed softly, and he realized that it was midnight. It was now Christmas Day, and he was holding a miracle in his arms. A perfect gift. It seemed as if he was at the center of a magical circle, emanating from the core of his angelic daughter.

A sudden feeling of possessiveness took hold of Katse; but there was something more. There was a sense of devotion, of care, similar to what he had felt for the child’s mother, but also… a connection. There was a bond between them that he innately sensed; something shared.

Berg Katse had never felt such a thing before. He had always known that he was different from every other human being on Earth; that he would never find another who was exactly like him.

And yet somehow, he had.

A sense of isolation and detachment that he hadn’t entirely been aware of began to dissolve. For the first time in his life, Berg Katse wasn’t alone.

He had someone with whom he could share. And now that he had found her, he was never going to give her up.

A loud whooping sound came from a computer panel on the other side of the room, and a red light began to flash. The Galactor Leader whirled quickly, his purple cape flying out behind him. The movement was so sudden that his daughter’s knit hat fell off of her head, and onto the floor. Katse pressed a button next to him, bringing up images from security cameras around the ship. It only took him a second to see winged figures darting quickly about, easily dealing with the few green-uniformed troops they encountered.

“The Science Ninja Team!” Katse hissed, his eyes burning red with his hatred. How dare they find him now? He had succeeded; he had accomplished his goal! He held his child in his arms. How could they be bothering him now?

And yet, the visual evidence was not to be denied.

“Guards! To the Control Room!” he shouted into the communications system, already knowing it was too late. Most of the troops he had taken with him were in the city, tracking down the leads he had given them.

Perhaps he still had time to make it to his escape pod. Diablica’s head had been designed as a secondary attack ship, and knowing that he would probably be commanding this vessel in the event of a separation, Katse had had a special rocket built into it. Quickly, he wrapped his cape around himself and his child, then strode across the room toward the exit.

Only to find himself face to face with Gatchaman.

“Going somewhere, Katse?” his nemesis smirked, his blue-gloved fingers pushing forcefully against the Galactor Leader’s chest. Katse stumbled backward slightly, afraid to put his arms out for balance; instead using them to clutch his daughter more closely to his body.

“How good of you to visit, Gatchaman!” Katse sneered, doing his best to bluff his way out of this situation. “And right on time! I have a little surprise for you…”

“Can it, Katse!” the Condor growled, stepping into the room, followed by the Swan and the Swallow. “You’re not getting away this time. You’ve got nowhere to run.”

The Galactor Leader’s eyes darted left and right. He considered grabbing for the gas pellet he carried in the side of his mask, near his mouth. Yes… that could distract them long enough for him to get away.

He shifted slightly, moving the precious white bundle to his left arm while his right hand slowly reached up toward his mouth…

His daughter began to cry.

The noise started out as a breathy moan, then quickly escalated to a loud wail, the plaintive cry echoing off of the metal walls. Everyone froze for a moment, uncertain of how to proceed under these unexpected circumstances.

“Give the baby to me, Katse.” Gatchaman said. His voice was no longer arrogant, or mocking, but carried a note of desperation.

It seemed that Berg Katse had one last card to play.