12-8-05

Life is just one big video game. Except that most of us don't get to respawn or go back to save points.

Gaz closed her diary, not bothering to date it. She'd already written in it a few hours ago. A strong breeze from the open window near her bed disturbed the papers on her desk. They slid to the floor in a single fluid motion, as if daring her to pick them up. Just see if you can keep us on the desk, Gaz they taunted. Bet we'll just fall right back on the floor. You'll have to close the window. And we know you won't do that.

She put them back on the desk. In a sudden flash of inspiration, she pinned them down with an old Game Slave console. I've got you there, she whispered silently to the papers. Try and fall off again. I dare you.

The phone rang, jolting Gaz out of her reverie. With reflexes honed with years of gaming experience, she snatched up the receiver on the other side of the room and pressed the "talk" button.

"Gaz?"

"Zim." Gaz sighed. "What do you want?"

"Did I interrupt something? You sound angry." The Irken's voice was unnaturally calm.

"No. I was just musing. What do you want?" Gaz glared at the wall and sat down on her bed.

"I just found something I think you'll like."

"And?"

A small pause, then "If you're not busy, Zim could let you pick it up."

"Stop referring to yourself in third person. It gets annoying. And I'll be there in five minutes." -Click.-

Something Gaz would like. Most likely, it had something to do with video games. It's not like she liked much else. Well, maybe piggies. But Zim didn't usually have piggies lying around. Following the time-travel incident, Gir kept those under lock and key. Gaz didn't blame him.

Zombie-like, Gaz pulled on her jacket. She'd long since stopped wearing dresses--teenage boys could get rather perverted--so she wasn't really worried about her legs getting cold. At any rate, her Tripp pants were thick enough to get her through a blizzard. And there weren't going to be any blizzards for at least a few more months.

Gaz left the house without shutting the door. Someone would come along and close it if they had a problem with it. She cocked an imaginary gun at the squirrel in the front yard and fired.

Zim had gotten the security system disabled by the time Gaz arrived. She wondered why he even bothered anymore. Those garden gnomes were about as useful as a spoon with steak. The gnomes slumped over each other, strewn across the lawn on either side of the path. It looked like they'd been trying to escape.

"I can't believe how amazing I am," was the first thing Zim said when Gaz walked in the door.

"What were you going to show me?"

"Look at this," he commanded, proudly handing her a small, black box.

Gaz took it. She examined the corners and sides for some sort of seam. Nothing became apparent in the smooth, shiny surface. After a moment, she looked back up at Zim.

"It's a box," she deadpanned.

"Press down on the lid to open it," Zim instructed, his ego deflating ever so slightly.

Gaz pressed down on what she took to be the lid, and the box sprang open. Two tiny, translucent red contact lenses lay suspended in some kind of liquid inside. Next to them was something that looked like a microchip. She took in the contents with an air of indifference, then turned her gaze back on Zim.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"The lenses are computers. It's like your human video games," Zim explained, trying not to fall into his old speech patterns. "They show information on the strengths and weaknesses of what you're looking at. They also come with the standard gaming essentials. Heat vision, night vision, mild x-rays, magnification."

"And the microchip?"

"Put it either on your shoulder or on the back of your neck. It supplies power to the lenses and helps your inferior brain interpret data from them." Zim paused. "Well?"

Gaz popped one lens from its liquid-filled capsule.

"Shut up and help me put these in."

Gaz lifted her hair, and Zim poked the lens onto her retina. Something burned, and Gaz's vision sharpened. The other lens went in, and suddenly Gaz could see lines on Zim's face that had been invisible just moments before.

While Gaz was preoccupied with her newly improved sight, Zim pressed the microchip into her shoulder. She gasped, but the sensation faded quickly. Her vision went from sharp to magnified and back to just sharp.

"Are you okay?" asked Zim in a momentary lapse of bravado.

"Yes, I'm fine."

Gaz suppressed a grin. Next to Zim's head was the words "Name: Zim. Skill level: n00b. Threat: nonexistent."

"Thanks," she managed to choke out with a straight face. "I'm going to have some fun with this."

"Life is just a video game, isn't it, Gaz?" Zim's expression was dead serious; no hint of hubris or irony could be seen in his eyes. It almost scared Gaz.

Especially when the threat level jumped to "likely."

-TARGET: ACQUIRED-

Dib wasn't home when Gaz got back. The door had been closed, so he must have been home when she left. There was no note, but Gaz didn't worry. No one was ever home anymore, even when their bodies occupied the building.

A scorching-hot bowl of ramen noodles and a soda filled Gaz's empty stomach. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until the first mouthful of noodles went down her throat. Then again, she hadn't eaten since the day before. Too many levels to beat. Her energy bars completely full, she went back to her room to reassess the situation and acquire targets.

The phone rang. Without thinking, Gaz fired an imaginary gun at it. Text popped up next to the receiver confirming the kill. She blinked and picked it up.

"Zim, stop calling-"

"Is this Gaz Membrane?" murmured a soothing female voice.

"Yes. Who are you, why are you calling, and why do you know my name?"

There was a long pause.

"Well, we couldn't get through to your father, and this number was listed on your brother's cell phone."

Trust Dib to enter his sister's phone line into his cell's memory. Like anyone ever called him anyway.

"What do you mean? You have his cell phone? And who are you again?"

"Well, this is Dr. Antoinette DeMure. I'm calling from the United Cross hospital."

Gaz's stomach dropped. Suddenly, that bowl of ramen didn't want to stay down.

"W-what are you calling for? Is Dib hurt?"

"Calm down, Gaz. I want you to call someone for a ride to the hospital. I'll meet you in the lobby." She paused. "We'll need you to pick up some things."

"I understand. Goodbye."

Gaz hung up, numb. She stayed still for a long time before finally picking up the receiver and dialing a number. Her fingers didn't want to work properly, and it took her two tries to get it right.

"Zim?"

"Gaz? What are you-"

"I need a ride to the hospital. I think my brother..."

"I'll pick you up in the voot cruiser. It's faster."

"Thanks. Bye."

Gaz didn't bother hanging up the phone. She just let it fall to the floor and left her room. She glanced at her jacket, but didn't put it on. Why bother? In video games, you don't need jackets. Unless they're trench coats. And then it's just for effect.

Zim didn't say anything on the ride to the hospital. Gaz preferred it that way. She just watched the city lights go by, wondering how many sticks of dynamite it would take to blow the buildings sky-high.

Dr. DeMure, a skinny, smallish woman with dark hair, met them in the lobby as promised. The voot cruiser had drawn a few strange looks, but Zim didn't bother to conceal it in the interest of time. And in seconds, Gaz entered a small, dark hospital room.

"Someone found him in the paranormal section at the library," explained the doctor. "There were no signs of foul play. It looks like the wounds were self-inflicted. That, or whoever made them was very smart about it."

Gaz silently surveyed her brother's still form, barely listening. The doctor went on for awhile longer before falling silent herself, glancing at Zim.

"Her brother has a history of suicidal behavior," muttered Zim, averting his eyes. "The knife's probably in his pocket or something."

"Well, we did recover a small bladed thing of some type." The doctor handed him an ornately engraved silver knife. Its metal sheath showed glimmers of scarlet.

"That would be it." Zim surveyed Gaz out of the corner of his eye. "You might want to leave the room. The girl-human can get violent."

Dr. DeMure nodded and left without another word. As soon as the door closed, Gaz gave a strangled sob.

"You idiot!" she choked, slamming her fist down next to Dib's head. "Why the hell do you keep doing this to me?"

"Have some respect for the dead!" snapped Zim, still averting his eyes.

"Why should I bother?" Gaz fumed. "It's not going to make him respawn. Humans don't usually respawn, and I don't think he even saved today. He can't sign back on. He's screwed. He's out of the game."

"Gaz, are you sure you're okay?" Zim moved to comfort her, but she punched him hard, sending him sprawling.

"Get away from me. You're no threat to the mission. I shouldn't waste time on you. Dib's status says 'terminated.' He's out of the game."

Zim got up and skirted the room, keeping his distance. "Then don't waste time on him. Keep going with the mission."

"He was supposed to give me details. This complicates the storyline." Gaz was babbling now. "I have to find an alternate source of information. I have to finish the mission."

Zim paused. And in an incredibly rare and brief moment of sanity, he contemplated whether it would be completely evil to take advantage of a poor, insane human in order to further his plans for destruction and chaos. Then the moment passed, and he was himself again.

"I'll let you in on a little secret, Gaz," he murmured, his eyes glinting dangerously.

"Secret? What do you know of secrets?" Gaz's eyes surveyed him critically.

"Well, it just so happens that your brother trusted me with the details of your mission. He knew that someone was going to have him terminated, and he asked me to pass the information on to you." I hope she buys it.

"He did?" Gaz's vision magnified, and she scrutinized Zim's eyes closely as he talked. Everything checked out. "I must complete my mission."

Zim grinned.

"I'll tell you once we get out of here."

Gaz seized his hand, all grief forgotten, and rushed out of the room. Dr. DeMure stood next to the door with a puzzled look on her face, watching Gaz sprint by her. Zim managed to wrench his hand free and mumble an explanation to the doctor.

"Don't bother, dear," sighed the doctor. "If it's any consolation, I know how you feel. I lost my father in much the same way not too long ago."

"I'm very sorry to hear that now I must be going before my bereft friend attempts to pilot a space ship and destroys half the city!" Zim sprinted after Gaz when the sound of rocket engines firing up reached his superior Irken auditory receptors.

"Oh. Well, good luck with that. Whatever...it was." Dr. DeMure let her words trail off. A pause, and she shrugged and went back to her work.

-TARGET: LOCKED-

Gaz got the mecha from Zim. He was her informant. He said so. The game had to progress. She had to win.

Gaz had been stuck in the same rut for too long, fighting the same battles over and over again. She needed something new.

So she made the dangerous journey to the house of Zim. Dodging monsters, slaying demons, and avoiding the authorities, she finally snuck past security and through an open window. Zim was waiting for her.

Sort of.

"What the hell are you doing, breaking my window!" screeched the Irken, falling from his perch on the sofa.

"I've come to receive my next assignment. I grow weary of decimating military bases. They hold no challenge for me." Gaz's eyes picked up a change in Zim's status. Instead of reading "informant," it now read "commander."

"You are my leader now?" she inquired, eyes narrow.

"Er, yes. Your, er, previous leader had a terrible accident earlier today and I've, uh, been chosen to succeed her."

"Fine, fine. Give me an assignment. NOW."

Zim's mind raced. What to do, what to do. Gaz had proven very useful in piloting mechas. However, there was the chance that she could snap and screw up. Then again, that could be most amusing. Zim grinned, his mind made up.

"I think it's time to take down The Man."

-TARGET: IN RANGE-

Gaz donned her flight gear, so to speak. Black pants, shirt, and leather trench coat. Combat boots. Black leather gloves. Her skull pendent prominently displayed on a chain round her neck, she stalked out of the empty house and into the garage. Tak's old ship lay like a decrepit old dog on the cement, and Gaz spared no glances at it. There were far more important things to do than worry about an old space ship.

The mecha was waiting for her. Vicious claws separated to reveal a narrow cockpit fit for a fighter pilot. Gaz slid into the seat and brought the mecha out. No need to hide it now. No one ever noticed anything, anyway. The mecha's radio started up, and the Cure blasted through speakers next to Gaz's head.

"Whenever I'm alone with you

You make me feel like I am home again

Whenever I'm alone with you

You make me feel like I am whole again-"

Gaz turned off the radio. No distractions. She had to concentrate. The mecha slowly stood up, Gaz easing at the controls until it was at its full height.

Then, with the speed of a viper, Gaz lunged at the controls, and the thing rocketed into the sky.

I must finish the game. Finish the game. Just one more level to go.

Zim made good on his promise to beam her directions to the government's headquarters. Presidentland was a long ways off, but the mecha made it much faster. It was an easy matter to shoot down the planes she saw along the way, be they commercial or military. It didn't really matter. Those planes were just cannon fodder, just target practice for the real thing. A minigame.

Gaz skirted the edge of Presidentland an hour later, her eyes searching for any signs of hostile aircraft. A small formation of jet fighters appeared on the edge of her vision, and she smiled. Time for the real games to begin.

A burst of fire rocked the mecha. They'd already started shooting, even though they could barely see her. Gaz's smile widened as she released a single blast of shrapnel. The planes dropped like stones from the sky, breaking apart and bursting into flame before they'd even hit the ground.

"Too easy," murmured Gaz to herself, and she turned on the radio.

-Zim's base-

Zim viewed the mayhem from a viewscreen in the safety of his labs. Gaz really could pilot a mecha. There was no doubt about that. Now to see if she could really take out the biggest, baddest governmental facility on the planet.

Zim grinned. This was going to be fun.

-the mecha-

Gaz cursed. A fighter had snuck up behind her and damaged one of the mecha's legs. She could feel the engines struggling to compensate. A quick burst of shrapnel, and the plane went down. But this development could very well cost her the game. She diverted maintenance to the leg and dove in for the kill.

All at once, fire erupted everywhere around her. Fighter jets and mechas appeared on all sides, every one heavily armed and ready to take out any and all threats to Presidentland. Gaz pounded the controls, diving and dodging and firing back. Warning lights flashed in her eyes, blinding her, and repeated jolts and impacts destroyed her equilibrium. Gaz's head slammed back into the headrest, and everything went black for a moment.

I must complete the mission. I have to beat the game.

Gaz's head snapped back up, and her eyes blazed red. The controls were extensions of her own being, reacting to her thoughts as much as to her touch. She screamed, and the mecha lunged forward, directly into the thickest swarm of aircraft.

"However far away
I will always love you
However long I stay
I will always love you
Whatever words I say
I will always love you
I will always love you"

Then she was going down. Headed directly for the massive building that was Presidentland. Not that she could really miss a structure that spanned several hundred kilometers in every direction. In the true spirit of mechas, a huge ball of energy formed between the machine's clawed hands. Gaz waited until the last possible moment, then fired.

The sheer force of the blast sent her skyrocketing back up into the remaining aircraft, a wave of light spreading over Presidentland. Gaz took out as many more planes as she could, and then she was falling again.

I must complete the mission. I have to beat the game.

Dib lost the game. I have to win it.

I don't want to lose.

The mission must be completed.

I have to beat the game.

I have to-

-TARGET: NEUTRALIZED-

Zim watched the explosion on screen. Gaz's red eyes blazed from the cockpit, and suddenly the entire mecha was engulfed in flames. She didn't come back up that time. Presidentland crumbled beneath the explosions and the sheer heat of an inferno created by an unstable little girl.

He bowed his head in a moment of silence. When he glanced back up, he was smiling. It was really too bad that the human had to die. He liked her. But still, she had just made it that much easier for him to take over this filthy little rock of a planet.

"Purple-haired girl go boom!" giggled Gir from his place on the floor.

"Yes, Gir."

Zim went silent for a long time. Then his grin widened.

"Well, at least she won the game."