Chapter One
(In Which Zim Does Something More Monumentally Stupid than Usual)
116 104 105 115 32 105 115 32 97 32 115 101 99 114 101 116 32 99 111 100 101
"So, how does it feel to be one the last surviving Earthlings in existence," jeered Tallest Red at the pathetic-looking being in front of him, "Isn't this what you wanted—to be recognized as a sane human smeet? You were right, they were wrong; aliens are real. And yet," he continued, upper lip curling in a sneer, "here you are, alone, without companions and the last free member of the Earthling race. How does this make you feel Dib?"
Dib raised his head unsteadily and silently glared at the Irkens before him. What was he to say? That he was sorry he had been right? No, this was not the time for self-loathing. Should he say that he gave in and hoped they would be nice to him? No, it was far too late for that sort of response, the human race was already obliterated.
A final thought crossed his mind lazily and he locked eyes with Red, letting loose a torrent of the nastiest, filthiest words in every language that he knew. English, French, German, Japanese, Sanskrit, ancient Greek, Modern Greek, Austrian, Russian, Hungarian, Romanian, Finnish, seven different pygmy tongues, three African dialects, Chinese, Latin, and some bits of Irken, Vortian and Galactic Common phrases all shot off his tongue in a rapid onslaught of fury. If words could kill, the entire Irken Empire would have keeled over on the spot.
While Purple and Red stood there, aghast at the pure verbal filth that was being spewed in their direction, Zim walked in with a tray of nachos in one hand and an Irken Cola in the other. He stopped dead in mid-step and stared, unable to believe his antennae. How dare he insult the Tallest like that? That filthy human! No skaatel should ever speak to the Tallests at all, and not like that! That is heresy and heretics die! He dropped his Cola and grabbed the mag-pistol from his PAK compartment and proceeded to open fire on the raging human.
"Zim! What in the name of Irk did you do that for?" Purple howled in fury as Dib's blood pooled around their feet. "You shot him so full of holes that he wouldn't even hold the thickest of Plookesian soups!" This was true, even as they spoke his life was leaving his body as quickly as his blood was.
"He was insulting you; he needed to be quiet," Zim explained, confused by Purple's at his erratic and irresponsible—though he would never admit it—actions.
"He was going into the Menagerie ya' dolt! We needed him for reasons!" Red responded, swiftly snapping a kick at the nearest Janitorial-Drone in frustration.
"Menagerie?" Zim raised an antenna in question, "Zim has never heard of this Menagerie. What is it?"
Purple silently motioned to his co-ruler, "Non-Elite aren't supposed to know about the Menagerie. Way to spill the beans to the most hated Irken in existence Red," he cuffed Red over the head as he hissed at him, "What're we supposed to do now?"
"Sorry Purple" Red pouted in what he hoped was an endearing manner, "We could always throw him out an airlock!"
"But he took over Earth! And I don't think there's an Irken anywhere in the Empire that's that desperate for praise! I say we just override his PAK and bring the backup personality forward," Purple retorted.
"Yeah but the last time we did that the Irken tried to kill the nearest breeder. She kept screaming about the supremacy of the Irken Empire and how all filthy skaatel must die—not that I have anything against that," Red added, smirking slightly, "but you know the breeders are important. And do we really want a perfect Zim? Airlocks are the way to go."
"No." Purple was adamant in his refusal, "No airlocks." Red pouted again, his antennae drooping, and nodded. There was a moment of silence and then a wide grin split Purple's face and he flicked his antennae in Zim's direction, "Maybe we can do both. We can get rid of him fro an obscenely long amount of time and we can get a skaatel breeder for the Menagerie. Just send Zim to go get it."
Red pulled back in shock, "Send Zim to get it? Are you insane? The idiot can't even handle his own garbage SIR-Unit, let alone his Voot-Cruiser. And the only reason he hasn't died yet is because of pure luck. And if we send him out...," he paused, dawning realization lighting his face, "he'll probably die! There's no guarantee that the Slums would even have an Earthling anyway! And he might even blow himself up! Brilliant idea Purple, but what do I tell him?"
"The truth." Seeing the shocked look Red was giving him, Purple continued, "Not all of the truth. Lie, if you will. Omit particular information and manipulate the truth to play the Menagerie in favorable light for a Defect like Zim. You understand?"
Red nodded and then the two broke their huddle, turning back to Zim who was munching on his nachos as if nothing happened. Red cleared his throat and, sure he had the diminutive Defect's attention, began to spin the truth. "Zim…the Menagerie is a special enclosure that the Tallests have used for the collection and observation of skaatel for genetic mixing. The skaatel kept in the Menagerie are from every race conquered by the Empire since the time of the Almighty Tallest Iriu. The skaatel's genetics are used to better the Irken race in ways that we have yet to achieve through pure evolution."
"Better Irkens using skaatel genetics?" Zim dropped his nachos in shock, "Irkens need no bettering! Irkens are supreme! We don't need to dilute our mighty Irken genes with skaatel filthiness."
"The Irken race is what it is because of the genetic mixing," Red was losing his cool quickly, he rarely had any patience for Zim on the best of days, "You are as much Reaken and Slitheen and Jd'uxwei as you are Irken. This process has been going on for a long time! What makes you think that, just because Purple and I are the first duo of Tallests, we would break tradition?"
"I didn't—!" Zim began.
"You don't much of anything!" Red was yelling now, his raised voice sending many of the Communications-Drones, Janitorial-Drones, and Technology-Drones scattering in fear of the airlock they might get thrown out of. "You're such a failure that—!"
"Red, stop!" Purple caught his partner's attention with a barked command. Red turned his head and Purple scowled at him, "Calm down."
While Red was doing his breathing exercises, Purple talked to Zim in a tone that was considerably calmer than Red's, "Look Zim, we need an Earthling for the Menagerie. It's an unwritten law that we keep one of each skaatel for breeding. We can't just not have one."
Zim's antennae perked up in question, "Breeding? But I thought the Menagerie was for genetic mixing, not mating. How does mating help better the Irken race?"
Purple sighed and rubbed between his ocular implants wearily. Of course I would let something like that slip...brilliant work Purple...just brilliant."Well...originally the skaatel were just there for genetic mixing. But when Iriu tinkered with smeets'DNA, adding Reaken genetics, he had no idea how it would affect the Irkens as a whole. In the end it took away our ability to support ourselves which caused the need for PAKs. To keep from repeating Iriu's mistake, the Tallest after Iriu – Tallest Mikhail – began the study of half-breed smeets created through Irken-skaatel breeding. We find the best traits of the skaatelrace we conquer and assimilate them into our genetics, hopefully eliminating the need for a PAK bit-by-bit. As of right now we have Reaken lifespan and antennae, Slitheen skin density, Jd'uxwei brain-meat size, and many other traits from other skaatel we've lost track of. So before you condemn us for "inferior breeding" and mating with skaatel understand this: you, yourself are a product of this breeding."
Zim whined slightly, "But what could you want the hyumans for?" He was confused; Zim had killed the Dib because he was being heretical and Zim still hadn't been praised. Instead he was being lectured and introduced to something that completely threw his perception of Irken purity out the window. Now he was being told that the Tallests needed the humans? This made his PAK and his brain-meats hurt. "They're ugly and stupid and smelly to boot!"
"For their height and tolerance to meat and Dihydrogen monoxide," Purple explained, as if it ere the simplest answer in the world.
"We could fix the mistakes of our predecessors," Red piped in, thoroughly over his little outburst.
"Ah…" Zim sighed in realization, "The allergies and the height thing...makes sense now—mmyep."
"However, due to the fact that you turned our Earthling into a giant meaty colander, you have to go get us a new one."
"But where is Zim supposed to go get a new hyuman? They're all dead. I killed them all. Squish, squish, squish, beneath the feet of my dooming robots like little grapes."
"Y'ever heard of the Galactic Slums?" Red grinned slyly.
"The Galactic Slums?" Zim wracked his PAK for any knowledge on the Galactic Slums and came up with nothing, "Well of course I've heard of the Galactic Slums! What self-respecting Irken doesn't know of the Galactic Slums?" He scoffed, making a quick note to update his PAK's Nomairiofnt server. It seemed to be a bit out-of-date.
The Tallest shared a "He-has-no-idea-what-he's-talking-about-but-we'll-humor-him-by-pretending-he-does" look and Red grinned again. This time however, the grin was a hungry one in anticipation of the giant party that as going to be thrown once Zim left. "In the farthest reaches of the Slums is a planet named Mientran where the last vestiges of the Earthling race exists as wei'kap, ready to be sold to the highest bidder."
"Wait—they discovered space-travel?" Zim interrupted.
"No. Right before the bio-sweep some pirates picked up some Earthlings to sell to the slavers on Mientran for big monies. Those were left there to be used as either wei'kap or breeders for halfers that would fetch even better prices on the market at the Slums." Red almost threw the nearest thing he could find at Zim's big, ignorant head. Space-travel made by the Earthlings..., he thought, what did he expect me to say? "Of course the stupid, planet-killing skaatel discovered space-travel Zim; you just never noticed." Moron...
"So? What does this have to do with Zim? Zim doesn't care about the welfare of the hyumans."
"We need you to go and get us one Earthling. One mature Earthling that could bear halfers. A pretty one, understand?" Purple was wearing the hungry look now, almost drooling it seemed.
"Zim will get the Tallest a human! Zim will not fail! Zim is Ziiiiiim," he shouted his name like it was synonymous with amazing. In reality, Zim is Irken for "destroyer of worlds" and Galactic Common for "one who has more luck than the gods". Then he did an about-face and marched his way out of the main deck of the Massive. He worked his way to the Massive's docking bay and found his little A16 Voot-Cruiser, the smallest, most out-of-date ship in the docking bay. He hopped in and started the ship, screaming in frustration when the ship's Computer wouldn't start the Voot-Cruiser until he had identified himself. Then, once he had successfully turned the engine over and managed to maneuver his little ship out of the docking bay, he flew off in search of Mientran and a new human for his Tallests' Menagerie.
Red smiled at the retreating ship through a port window, "Well...there he goes"
"Good."
"You think he'll notice he has no monies?"
"Not until he hits Mientran. How much you wanna bet he runs out of fuel on the way there?"
"You know I don't bet when it comes to Zim. But, if I did, I'd say he'd make it halfway back from Mientran before he dies. Viaablackhole," Red added nastily, "now about those party-foods..."
99 97 110 32 121 111 117 32 114 101 97 100 32 116 104 105 115 63
Zim cruised past the stars and planets, naming them as he went to pass the time, "Eitrrth, conquered by Invader Znith, Rartok conquered by Invader Aiers, Sjdneov conquered by Invader Qxtal, Nis, Ehdoenn, Geoxb...argh!" He growled and crossed his arms petulantly, "This is so boring! After I took over Earth I thought I'd be put on a pedestal and worshiped, not sent off to be the Tallest's delivery boy! Zim shouldn't have to fetch skaatel for no one! Not even the Tallest," he added as an afterthought to his rant, grumbling slightly. "And GIR is off floating in space somewhere near Andromeda Sigma so I don't have him around. And really I kind of—no! I do not miss that defective piece of scrap! I am Zim! Zim needs no one, noone!" He scowled again; wasting energy on that rant had drained his PAK's reserve energy and he needed to stop and charge. "Computer! Wake me when we reach Mientran! I have some PAK files to update..."
[YES SIR, I WILL WAKE YOU UP IN APPROXIMATELY SIX MONTHS,] the ship's computer sighed, replying in the tone that Zim detested so much.
Zim frowned, I really have to get a new personality program for the Voot-Cruiser. If I have to put up with that for six months I may just think about taking my PAK off to end the droning noise. Then Zim plugged his PAK in to the Voot-Cruiser's dashboard charger and rolled over, ready to sleep and to dream. For a brief instant, Dib and his death passed through his head and he smiled to himself, "Mmyep...one less human to deal with. Good for them." And he fell asleep at last, dreaming of past conquests.
(A/N: And here you have it: the new version of Tenderness! I hope you like the better-written, more clear version. Many thanks go to R! THANK YOU FOR BEING MY BETA! :P More to come. Not too sure it will be regular but it'll come along eventually. Until then, goodbye! - 'Sandria)
