Ohh the pain… It didn't help still being conscious enough to see Purple scream like a 5-year-old girl – and swoon himself – and then have to share a stretcher with him to the Med Bay.
I was poked and prodded at for the most of the week by medical staff trying to figure out what on Irk was going on with me. I wanted to slap them all away and scream at them I was quite obviously Zimming. Well, all my bones were dislocated, of course they were confused.
It was kind of easier here than at the base, though. They had my PAK hooked up to an artificial artificial breather, so it wasn't put under so much pressure, and they'd also given me a weak pain-killer. It was probably just paracetamol, but it helped a bit.
Unfortunately, I had been also been awake when the media had come. Purple had gotten off his bed and seen the reporters.
'It's alright, I'm okay –!' He started, but was cut off when they all rampaged past him to look at me. The medical staff had been able to tell I wasn't unconscious so the reporters were all trying to get quotes and snapping pictures.
'How are you feeling?'
'Has this ever happened before?'
'You look silly..! Did you know that?'
I just blinked meekly at them from my place on the hospital bed.
'Interesting!!' One of them cried and furiously wrote something down. Suddenly Tallest Purple decided to intervene. Probably wasn't getting enough attention of his own…
'Okay, okay! I think this mysterious hero has had enough for now; he needs his rest… GET OUT!!' He pointed at the door and huffily sat back down on his own bed.
In the quiet after they all left, suddenly I was thinking again; drifting back to the events that had taken place a few days earlier…
My funeral..? They didn't realise it WAS me still! What would happen to me when they found out I was Zim? Would they be angry? Maybe they'd execute me or have me thrown out the airlock… I shuddered. Well quivered as much as a pile of Irken could. Then the biggest question hit me again. Why were they celebrating my death?
Well – even though no-one else knew it yet – I AM ZIM and I would get to the bottom of this, and more to the point, get out of it.
It had been one thing having all my bones dislocate for the medical staff, but it was quite another when I'd started to re-solidify. I heard them condemn me in the first three days; saying it was only a matter of time before they'd be holding "my" funeral instead. Eheh… When I'd begun retaining an Irken look – and when I'd started making odd gurgling sounds – again, they'd had to start from scratch in their assumptions. Of course, I knew in about one day I'd be able to explain everything. Or would I? How could I explain this without completely giving away who I was? I'd decided to remain incognito for as long as possible, whilst finding out as much information as I could… I was probably the most confused half solid Irken in the entire multiverse…
Generally I kept my eyes closed during Zimming – in the early stages everything was encircled by an orangey-red, accompanied by a violent stinging anyway – but if someone was in the room, and if I was bored enough, I would watch them moving around, shuffling papers or looking back at me. One day I was trying to move but I was still too rigid and I ached all over; I had my eyes squeezed shut. I heard someone enter. I thought it was probably just another doctor.
'My Tallest!' The physician in the room said in surprise. Purple had left the sickbay over a day ago, so it could be either of the Tallest. I decided this would be worth listening to.
'Listen, we need information…' It was Tallest Red talking in a low voice.
'About what, my Tallest?' The physician asked.
'Who is this Irken?' He lowered his voice even further; it was barely audible from my place in the room. I heard the doctor shuffle a bit.
'We don't actually know… We tried to import that information from his PAK, but it's riddled with glitches and viruses, so we couldn't get into the encrypted information without infecting our entire system. The good news is, however, he seems to be recovering rapidly from what we thought would surely be fatal! How, we aren't sure…' Red stayed silent while the doctor spoke. I couldn't see how he was taking it because my eyes were still closed.
'Hmm… The records have been checked and no-one like him has been banished or sent on an undercover mission, although we can't be sure until we know who is.' Red said. 'How long, do you think?' He asked slowly.
'With the unpredictability of this whole ordeal, I'm not sure anyone'd be able to accurately tell you the answer to –' Red cut him off.
'Make an educated guess.' He said somewhat threateningly. The doctor cleared his throat.
'Err, maybe a week?' He said nervously. 'Why, is this, uhmm… bad?'
Red sighed. 'There hasn't been an anonymous or unidentified Irken in over one-thousand years. It could be a problem if there are more like him somewhere in the multiverse. They could upend the Irken name if they aren't under our supervision and intervention!' Red explained, aggravated.
Oh no. Things were worse than they appeared. Not only was I going to be in deep doo-doo when I did "wake up", it was happening right now. Waking up I mean; I was going to right now. My fingers twitched, but apparently they didn't notice. My muscles suddenly turned fluid when more energy from my PAK ran through me. Maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't be able to tell I was "awake" just yet…
'Ooff…' The little air I had was knocked out of my lungs as I jerked off the bed. The other two Irkens in the room spun around to stare at me on the floor.
'Yeah, uh, you're fired...' Red said nonchalantly to the physician, who just looked at him with round eyes.
