THE ZIMVENTURES

SG-ZIM

PROLOGUE

It had been a bad month for Cris Zim. All that time, and he thought Fitz had been kidding. There was no way his roommate would ever give up that awesome apartment just to move back in with his folks. The idea was just preposterous. But when the deadline finally arrived Zim learned the awful truth to this plan. In the blink of an eye he found himself out on his ass. He took comfort in the fact that he didn't have many belongings. Fitz bought most of everything for the place, so Zim was able to fit everything he owned into his car.

At first Zim drove back to his parents' place, thinking that he'd follow Fitz's example. Sure, his own father had said that he would never let Zim move back in, but they were his parents. This was his home. Family couldn't turn you away, right?

Zim's father flat-out refused to so much as let him in the door. With a tremendous sigh, Zim drove away.

He tried to make a go of living in his car, but after a while the box company made it clear in no uncertain terms that he is not to sleep in their parking lot. Every time he parked somewhere for the night, the cops would come by and hassle him. There was just no way for him to continue living like this.

He thought he might drive down to Florida to live with Geoff, but then he remembered how repulsive and foolish and undependable his brother was. Besides, he didn't think he could get enough gas money for the trip.

So he sold everything he owned except for his clothes and toiletries, picked up his last paycheck and decided to go in the opposite direction. He would drive his car until he ran out of gas, then start hiking in his attempt to see America. If push came to shove, he'd panhandle. He'd heard many stories from Bruni about his ex-girlfriend, and he knew that living on the streets wouldn't be too hard.

He made it to the wilderness of Colorado before he ran out of gas. He tried selling his car to anyone who would stop by, but no one went for it. With a sigh he shouldered his backpack of belongings and left his car behind.

Bad move. Before long he found himself lost in the woods. He'd left the road so he could take a shit, but when he tried to find his way back, he just couldn't. So he started wandering around, and before he knew it he was climbing a mountain. He cursed Fitz's name under his breath, as he still blamed all of his misfortunes on his former roommate.

After days of living in the chilly, rainy climate with no shelter and only a bag of Flamin' Hot Cheetos for food, he came to a clearing, bearded and smelly from days without a proper bathroom. Above, he heard a thwopping sound, and when he looked up he saw a helicopter hovering above him. Rope dropped, and someone rappelled down.

Zim wondered if maybe he should get the fuck out of here, but curiosity got the better of him. Besides, what if this guy wanted to rescue him and give him free food?

The man released the rope and took of his hat. "Cris Zim?"

"Call me Cris," Zim said.

"I'm Major Davis, Zim. We've never met, but I know a lot about you."

Fuck. Why couldn't anyone ever call him Cris? He blamed Fitz, as usual.

"The United States government has been watching you—and others like you—for a long time."

"There's no one else like me."

"Losers," Davis clarified. "And it seems like you've never been more of a loser than you are now. Homeless, without a car and job, with no belongings aside from what you carry on your back."

"Yeah, that kind of sucks," Zim said.

"We've actually got a job for you. How would you like to be a Red Shirt?"

"I don't like red," Zim said. "And I don't think I'd like being a shirt."

Davis laughed, but Zim didn't so much as chuckle. The laughter faded out. "You'll be doing the US Air Force a very good service."

"I'm not that much into the military. I like to take naps. A lot."

"You'd be perfect for this job. Besides, you'll get room and board and an outstanding paycheck."

"How outstanding?"

"Would you like to make a hundred thousand dollars a year?"

Dollar signs cha-chinged in Zim's eyes. "Uh . . . sure."

"It's dangerous work, but considering how you really have no life, you've got nothing to lose."

"Dangerous?"

"Well, it's easy for Red Shirt recruits to get killed. It's their job to get shot at and absorb casualties so our main field operatives don't get killed."

"But the money's good," Zim said. "And you guys are gonna put me up, right?"

"Right."

"Fuck it. I'll take the job. It could be fun."

Davis grinned. "I knew I could count on you, Zim. Let's climb this rope, and I'll tell you all about Project Stargate." He put his hat back on and grabbed the rope.

Zim looked up and didn't feel very good about climbing all that distance. It looked downright physically demanding. He almost considered changing his mind about this job, but after seeing how easily Davis made it up, he thought he could do it . . .