It started with me. "If you hadn't been so ignorant, we wouldn't be in this mess."
"Look," Dib said, "I already told you it was a mistake—what else do you want?"
"To go home," Ruza said.
"Why don't we make the best of it?" Dwicky emphasized from the small table in his room, where we were all gathered. "Being an assistant isn't that bad."
"But Dib is at fault."
"Hey—" He gritted his teeth.
"I've heard enough out of you."
"Ruza!" Dib tried again. "I already apologized. You're just being childish."
"Me? Who has an arch nemesis? Who tried to sell us out?"
Dwicky exhaled. "That's enough."
"I've had enough of you," Dib yelled. "I'm trying to help. For the past six months, what have you done to me? Called me names, made fun of my plans, and dissed paranormal studies. I've been trying to save our planet, and all you're doing is ridiculing me and everyone else nonstop."
Wow.
Ruza's eyes grew less incendiary. The two stared each other down before her gaze found the floor.
"'Everyone else' is a bit of a stretch," Dwicky's tone was like honey compared to their whiny adolescents'. "Now, let's just drop this."
"Sorry."
Dib stared. "…Huh?"
"I said sorry…" It was a while before she continued. "You're right—I find it easy to make fun of you like you found it easy to comment on my cesspool home back on Earth. But that doesn't make my actions right. You're just trying to help."
"…You know, we've all known each other for almost a year now, and you still haven't told us your story," Dib said.
Ruza kept her eyes on the ground.
I spoke up, trying for gentleness. "You can trust us."
She let out a long breath and slightly nodded. "I just don't like to talk about it." Silence, until she pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. "…I lived down by the cesspool; and that's not something to be ashamed of."
"I know," Dib put his hands up. "I'm sorry I criticized your area before. I, I actually don't know that much about it."
"Well, you should hear the stories of the people who live there before you judge them. Your dad's research isn't just for the rich city kids."
True…I hadn't thought of that.
"I can tell you about the day she kicked me out…I had gone to visit some…people in the morning…"
The little room seemed to evaporate. Soon, I could feel cold rain on my back as Ruse described it—an icy morning with overhead thunder, bike tires splashing through puddles…
Flashback
Raincoats holding umbrellas hurried under roofs. Ruza pulled her hood more securely around her face with one hand and careened down a side alley on her bike. Downtown buildings boxed in her view.
After another few minutes, she saw the dumpster marking their meeting point. She didn't have to wait long for the group of black bikes to pull into the alley. Six dismounted—in a few seconds, panic ripped through her. Ralph isn't here… he protected her. He was the mediator. This was going to be hard.
"So?" the leader asked. "Did you bring me somethin'?"
Ruza dug in her pocket for the paper package and held it out. "Just like you said. From the one around the block."
His friends leaned in…He held up two shiny, gold necklaces. His tone was admiring. "Look, guys. Tell me how people think gold belongs behind just glass?" They laughed.
"A-about my…payment?" It had taken two months to plan that heist.
He was still enthralled with the jewelry. "Payment?"
"Yes. You promised three hundred dollars!"
The leader smirked. "Look at you. So young, aren't you? What are you, eight? Ten?"
"I want my money," She forced the lump in her throat down. Mom will be furious.
"'I want my moneys, Billy,'" The others mocked. "The little brat wants her money, Bill." "Better give it." "Kinda scared, now."
"My moneys! Ralph promised me. He's not here but he'll find out. My mom works hard enough as it is."
"Oh, please, that woman barely does five hours a week at the bar." He turned to them. "Half the time she's drunk and flirting with all the good-for-no-"
"Give me my money!"
"Aw, she's mad, Bill."
"Get outta here," Bill crammed ten bills into her palm and shoved her. "Go home—we ain't got time for loiterers."
"This…" Anger tore through her. "isn't how much you promised me."
Billy reached for something in his jacket. Ruza was already around the corner, pedaling for life. The rain came in torrents, drenching her jeans. It seeped through her jacket. She didn't stop, until she reached the other side of the cesspool.
Ruza threw her bike against the side of the house and put one ear to the door. Nothing. Good. She tiptoed in and slipped off her shoes. Mounting the steps, she was startled half to death by her mother's raspy shriek.
"Ruza! S'at you?"
She cursed under her breath and barked back, "Yes. Who else?"
The reply was garbled, slurred. "…Walter with you?"
A groan. "No, mom. He's been gone for seven years."
A slight pause as this knowledge seemed to re-present itself to her mother. "…Did you visit your friends today?"
"They're not my friends! In fact, I think today was the last day I'm going—that sixteen-year-old- Billy—he almost had a gun on me."
Her mother emerged, hair in curlers, face adorned with cheap-looking goo. The bathrobe was stained with…something. Her eyes swollen and bloodshot. "You're going back every day until we have enough money to pay off this house."
"Mom!"
"I don't care, Ruza. You'll have to be more careful and keep your smart shut. How much did you bring me?...What?" She seized her daughter by a sleeve.
"…Hundred and twenty."
A low, deep growl. She shoved Ruza against the wall. "Worthless brat! That's not enough! We need it now." The beginning of another rant. Ruza opted to sink against the stairwell wall as her mother stomped around, listing problems and linking them to her.
By the end of that night, she'd packed her room into a suitcase under her mother's watch, and trundled back out the door. She walked until she came upon a metal chain link fence in front of a skool. By then, the sun was rising. The rain had stopped, and she decided to sit and rest for a while. The kids would be coming soon.
End Flashback
Ruza's arms circled her knees as she stared at a blank piece of pink wall.
Stunned, I spoke. "That was the day you started following me, after my first tutoring day."
"Yeah…"
"My dad never did that," Dib's voice was quiet…He was never really around, but at least he never yelled at us, hit us…at least he was always working for us.
"Ruza, thank you for telling us," Dwicky said. "Does it help you feel better?"
"Actually, I think I'd been waiting to tell someone…hoping. I just…it was so hard. I didn't know how you'd all take it."
"You can talk to any of us. We'll listen." He smiled.
She nodded distantly. "It's just all so new…and I don't want it to go away."
"We're going to be fine," Dwicky promised. Though, in his face, I looked close enough to see the unease even the counselor wore on the inside.
"How is your room?"
"Uh, it's nice." Embarrassed, I followed through narrow aisles of the Massive's library. A vaulted ceiling overhead, endless shelves of data pads, and a computer work area in the back surrounded Red and me. Around, large signs read VORT… PLEUKESIA… MEEKROB… BLORCH… GATRON…so on. I enjoyed reading, but this was going to take a ridiculous amount of time."It's much better than a prison cell." Why did I have to premeditate everything I said to him? Because I felt every sentence could seal his opinion and my doom.
We stopped at a table before the workstations and sat across from each other. "You're right."
The awkwardness of being in his company left me mentally grasping for words. I could hardly look at him. We'd been across the silver hall from each other hours before, and I'd been perfectly able to converse. Remove the bars, and I was dumb—not the best representation to the Irkens of the intelligence of my species. There was the hum of the library lights. "Um, yeah…thanks for letting me stay here, and eat with you guys and stuff."
"That's still not a given." I internally flinched. "You'll stay here as long as you're useful."
Well, I was pretty useful on the Colossal. So what am I supposed to do? What is useful? What can I do that no one else can do? "Like what?...Do things like what?" I corrected myself. I'm not even making sense. I'm going to die. Oh, boy. Earth…
Those ruby eyes fixed on me. "Whatever I want."
"R…ight." This is terrible. Not that, but my conversation. "…I'm sorry, I just—we just…" I inhaled. "We just got here, so I'm a little…"
"Flustered. I know." I stared. "I would expect as much. The Massive isn't exactly an everyday mode of transportation."
I exhaled, nodded, internally wondering if flustered was a projection. "So, what do I need to know?"
"A lot more than I have time to tell you. You can use this—" he gestured around the room, "to help you. Ask Computer."
"We had one on Dwicky's ship."
His eyes narrowed. "Don't interrupt."
Oh snap. "Sorry." The vaulted ceilings were too high, and there was too much reading material, and there was too much to know, because they studied from smeet-hood and that…had to be two hundred years ago. I couldn't form thoughts.
After a time, Red rolled his eyes. "I'm done."
"Oh," I smirked.
"Stilts, did you lose a few brain cells between here and the Colossal?"
His question was serious, but it loosened my reservations. "No, it's just, we're the first humans ever on board here, and I don't know what to do."
Red took a data pad from his PAK and started writing. "Turns out…they can form…full sentences."
I knew grabbing it would get me in trouble, so I crossed my arms and made a point of looking at him, trying not to smile. Red looked up and re-stored the data pad. "Dwicky's in the medical ward, and Dib's set up in the tech room."
Gratitude filled me. "Thank you. For, um, setting them up. For not just offing us once you got back."
Red looked at some shelf off to the side. "…It's still only temporary." He pointed a talon at me. "If you step out of line even once, you're done."
I was beginning to question how true that was, if we had rooms. Then again, the drones who'd been "air locked" had had a lifetime here. Still in danger. "So…the Resisty has us trapped here. I told my dad when I called him. He wasn't happy. I hadn't told him any of this—he didn't know."
Red nodded. "Trapped indefinitely…What do your people know? What does your planet do? Do you even have alien relations?"
"No." I felt my face warm. "Our military is…well, they don't know how to use their weaponry properly. They struggle to deal with...domestic problems." Giant hamsters are exceptions. Cut yourself some slack.. "But, what I saw out there…your people are well prepared." He stared at me. "Didn't you already put the Resisty down once?"
"We would have," he said tightly, "if Zim hadn't screwed with our power core."
"Oh. That."
He studied me. "We'll see what you can do. Zim's word on you isn't final—especially not after the Colossal."
Hope rushed within me. This could work. This could actually work. "Yeah, well…you saved me on that turn."
"…Then left you." I sighed, shrugging, even though I resented that. "Come back tomorrow, this time." His tone was almost amiable. "Rarl or I might have time to lecture you for a little while. If this is going to work, you'll need to be more educated than you were under Dwicky."
"I think we both know he lacks a little in the education department." Ouch—did I say that? But Earth, he was grinning—grinning—and I was, too. Way to throw Dwicky under the bus…I smiled…it could be true.
"Let's just be glad he's in the medical ward, and not getting my food."
I almost laughed. "What, is one more vital than the other?"
"See you tomorrow."
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
The tan plastic bag crinkled between four fingers. They headed down 45 hall—apparently on the way to the Tallest's quarters.
Purple looked down to catch her staring at the bag, and his lips curled into a snarl—that high-pitched voice. "Don't even think about it."
Ruza sighed and stared at the metal beneath her standard boots. After a moment, her eyes flicked onto his hand again, she bounded forward, reached, grabbed the cookie on its way to his mouth, and shoved it into her mouth. She couldn't help the chortle that escaped her.
Purple stared, dumbstruck, frozen, before disbelief morphed into visible loathing. His eyes caught fire. "That was—"
"—was…pecans; or whatever nuts up here taste like them. Chocolate…" She chewed with concentration as the gaping eight-foot Tallest began to seethe. "Obviously flour, milk of some sort, vanilla…I bet I can make more of those. Fresh, though. Homemade."
Purple's fury was audible "You…" He turned and floated faster down the hall, giving a low growl. Ruza smirked, licked her fingers, and followed. Safe. Gotta be safe. I can be useful. "I'm serious about making more. We are in a shortage." Yes. Quoting them. Good.
"We are in a shortage," he snapped. "You are about to be trading material for more snacks."
"Ooh."
Purple's voice was low and even when they stopped between two doors and faced the left. "Don't touch anything. Don't even breathe—your repulsive human carbon dioxide will contaminate it."
"Gotcha." She managed a smile, heaved a great breath, and held it. Her new superior rolled his eyes and pressed a hand against a wall panel. The door swished open.
Ruza's breath left her.
A huge television—bigger than the ones she'd seen at the Earth store. They could watch sports and shows on that—reality TV. She'd never had time to watch TV before because her mom hogged theirs and she'd been out trying to make money or get away from her…Ruza had seen a little of some funny sitcoms, though, and had decided TV was great. A balcony—if they were out on it, she guessed they could see the stars she'd learned about from Dwicky for the past six months. She knew a lot of them already. A snack bar, on the other side of the balcony, with a huge refrigerator. She was explicably drawn to it: No one to share it with—not like in the cafeteria. Her own stash—well, not hers, but maybe…with time…
The fridge housed enough food for a year, she estimated. A bigger couch than the one in Ruza's room. A computer, shelves, all, all too much and wonderful and unbelievable and she couldn't take it in so suddenly. A mansion in a room.
She took a breath, but Purple cut her off. "Don't touch anything." More insistent.
Ruza exhaled, nodded, and stepped inside.
"As my assistant, you'll need to know a few things. A lot of things. So many things. Like my favorite foods, and universal policy—you can read some of the things I have from the archives." He frowned, waving a hand in front of her face. "Hello?"
Ruza blinked rapidly and shook her head. "Sorry."
He led her to a wall over the computer. Two shelves held many thin, seemingly metal, book-shaped…things.
"What are these?"
Purple took one and waved it close to her face. "A data pad?" Like the metal book-shaped thing should be universally known.
A whole library in twenty data pads…
Purple looked down, met her eyes, and his face fell slightly. "I have. an alien. in my room."
And it was currently knocking on the walls. "…Nothing can get through here…" Its voice was soft.
"No..."
Her eyes moved to the door. "That door is locked? I mean, it won't open?"
"Uh…right" Irk, were all of them this stupidly…interrogative? After Red's ordeal, it creeped Purple out more than he wanted to be creeped out.
"No one can come in unless you tell them to?"
"Which I can do!" He felt obligated to remind her.
"Yes, but I mean, it's secure. No surprises."
"…No." His eyes were on her, curious, inquisitive.
She grinned. "Great."
Purple squinted at her. "Okaayy."
"So, how many snacks you got?" She bounded to the counter. "Can I try them?"
"No!" He was pushing her back in a flash. "I said don't touch my food!"
"All right." To his surprise, she backed off, stood at a respectable distance. "I was just playing." She looked at him. "Though I was serious about making you things."
Purple was surprised to hear himself ask, "You were?"
"Yeah, I used to make my own food all the time."
"…Huh."
"What, didn't expect a smeet-aged kid to be able to make food?"
Purple's eyes narrowed a little. If Red refused to murder these stowaways, and the two of them were temporarily stuck with them, it would be best to find out what the thing knew at this moment.
"All right, 'Ruza,'" He smirked. "You have a strange name. But I'll call you whatever I want. 'Slave monkey' sounds nice." Her surprise and his smirk both grew. "Now…" He hovered to the shelf, grabbed two or three data pads, and returned. "Irken history—through the last four Tallests."
She took it in her weird, fleshy, five-fingered hand.
"Universal politics—the last fifty years of conventions and wars." His tone was less enthusiastic now that she was touching his stuff.
"Oohh."
He muttered, "And the best cuisine in the universe. Don't...breathe on that." "Thanks." She looked happier than he'd seen her yet. Great: he was worse than he'd been since Red returned. "I'll learn them."
Purple frowned. "You're quick to take other people's things."
Her green eyes met his. They weren't an entirely gross color. She was frowning. "So are you," her voice came.
Silence—painful. Something contorted in him at an unfamiliar and hated discomfort. That shouldn't be here, shouldn't be here. He settled on, "Shut up" as a comeback. Good. That was good. I like that.
"Can we go onto the balcony?" Seemingly unfazed, she headed toward the star-filled glass door. …Shoulda yelled it. "Wow, look at that. That one's…I know that galaxy, Dwicky taught us about it."
"Know where Planet Jacker's system is?" He asked wryly.
"Um…blue star, blue star…well, there's a lot of them. Trick question!"
"No, it's not a trick question. The Planet Jacker's system lies between two nebulas. It's over there."
"…Oh."
Why am I pointing it out? Why am I bothering? He was genuinely curious about something, and it provided a subject change: "Hey, what happened…on the Colossal?"
"On the Colossal?" Her voice was small. "…Well…Hannah and I were thrown into cells across from Red—Tallest Red. We got kidnapped for being in the way of the rebels. They didn't want to take Zim, Dib, or Dwicky because of their universal reputations. Actually, Dib was just annoying them."
Purple smirked. "You mean big head?"
Ruza chuckled.
Purple actually laughed before he could catch himself. "He always was annoying. He called us once from Zim's computer. It was almost worse than the time Zim said our names for three hours straight...So, cells?"
"Yeah. Then we got to know the warden—of sorts—Smack. Third in command of the Resisty." Purple nodded. "And eventually, Red woke up, we convinced him to let us free—Smack, I mean."
"Hair." Purple stuck out his tongue. "It's disgusting." He was looking at hers. "You have so much of it on your head…all the way down your back. It's gross."
Ruza rolled her eyes. "Okay, so anyway, Hannah decided to break Red out and help him escape, much to my disagreement. We somehow made it out. Red flew the escape pod…you probably know the rest. The chase. Our landing."
Purple folded his arms and his eyes narrowed. "You're telling me two humans got him out of a Colossal jail cell? With your brains. You're not even that tall."
"That doesn't mean we can't think! Smack wouldn't just release Red—he hates him. The whole Resisty—"
"The Resisty hates both of us. And I don't see how two rogues had the power to get him out of there."
"He's here, isn't he?"
Purple couldn't argue with that.
"We've seen news programs, but what's going on right now? What's the big picture?...And don't tell me to go read the last few chapters of the politics book."
"Data pad. Basically, the Resisty attacked an invader, and we've been at it since. The Empire has never had an adversary that lasted more than about ten minutes. But they're back, and we had to pull all the invaders out…" His face morphed into a frustrated expression.
"What about all the planets you conquered?"
"They're still being watched, but we just can't send in anyone right now. The Resisty would love to decapitate some of us. You know, heads and all."
"Yeah. Heads…
"So," she looked around. "We're actual passengers now?...and Hannah and I have access to all this?"
"Ehh." He headed inside. "You take your little 'books'—data pads—and study. And you come back after however long humans take to sleep and eat. You'll report to the cafeteria during breakfast on every normal day. You'll bring me things, once I make it clear what I want regularly…" His volume dropped as his tone iced, "and once we restock on the essentials. You'll address me as sir, of course." He added another two pads to her stack. Purple watched her eyes slowly widen. She was silent. He frowned. "Something wrong?"
The Launching Deck was comprised of terminals: Irken ships spread right and left in a V shape. Zim, Gir, Tenn, and her own SIR unit stood at the entrance, where these rays met.
"Why is your robot so quiet?" Gir waved a hand in front of Tenn's SIR, which didn't respond.
"After that Meekrob incident, I have trouble trusting SIRs. It was traumatizing. Know anything about that, Zim?"
"Nope!"
"This is the SIR I got on Conventia. He's always obedient, but he doesn't talk much, or do much. I like him!"
"Let's go," Zim said, eager as ever to start the mission.
Irkens rushed about the Deck, coming in, going out, or checking inventory. Several pushed carts of equipment. The repetitive roars of engines and takeoffs sounded.
Zim, donning a determined look, dove into the chaos. He leapt over carts and zigzagged among soldiers. A huge vehicle carrying packaged explosives careened out of control in front of him. It turned horizontal, cutting off his path, skidding quickly. Zim whipped around and spotted a cart piled with damaged ship parts, shoved the pusher aside and charged up a makeshift ramp. He grinned as he watched the spinning truck pass beneath him. Barely catching a wire holding an array of bulletins, he zip lined down the Deck, laughing.
He finally released the string and executed a perfect double back flip. As his feet hit the floor, the truck exploded on the other side—screams. Zim grinned as papers fluttered around him. One of them landed on his face. "No one compares to Zim's innovative genius!"
The other three hovered up on a platform. Tenn sipped a Poop Cola, Gir was read the newspaper, and Tenn's SIR just stood there.
"How did you-?.. Gimme." Zim tore her soda away and took a loud slurp.
"Terminal seven hundred and four! They moved you down, Zim. We're almost at the end."
"Heyy. It's you." Gir pulled the paper off Zim and held it up. On it, the word "Wanted" topped an image of Zim above a list of names: Sizz-Lor, the Hobo 13 general, and a good representation of most species in the universe. Zim ripped it to shreds, muttering through gritted teeth. Gir started to cry. "You—you killed it…" Zim rolled his eyes and walked into his terminal. Guards had been posted, but they grudgingly let the group pass, obviously having gotten word from the Tallest.
"Everyone in—quickly, quickly. No backseat driving." Once everyone was seated in the back ("Zim, move your seat forward." "I can't breathe!" "You're a robot, Gir, you don't need to breathe. I'm seriously getting cramps back here." "Quiet, all of you!") The "invader" started the engine. "We're going to find those planets, and become war heroes!"
Tenn and Gir cheered. Zim revved the engine. The Cruiser shot out of the terminal and turned right, soaring into space. Gradually, the Massive grew smaller, disappeared, and thick, star-studded blackness was its replacement.
The pilot quickly grew bored with the familiar terrain. "Computer. Track the Mars-planet. Use your scanners to trace its molecular makeup and lock onto it's location."
"Searching…"
For a while, silence. Well, near silence: Tenn and Gir were playing some hand-clapping game in the back. "Five muffins, six muffins, seven muffins, eight."
"Put 'em in the oven till they taste great!"
Zim frowned. "Is that necessary?"
Tenn turned to him, completely serious. "Considering I can't move my legs? Yes. Yes it is."
Zim sighed and sat back in his seat. He should be blowing up things! "…So, eh, what was Meekrob like?"
"Muffins—what?" She turned her head.
Zim growled. "The Meekrob—those philosophic shoe creatures."
"Oh, Zim, you know that's just a myth."
"Nuh-uh."
"Yeah-huh. The Meekrob are intelligent, dignified creatures, not shoes."
"Fine."
"…Let's tell them starting from the time we left Conventia."
Three sets of eyes gawked at Tenn's SIR unit. "You…spoke," Zim said.
Gir started to tear up. "It's a miracle."
"Oh come on, guys," Tenn glared. "Lio speaks, just less than most. He's probably bored being immobile, too. So. You want to start from Conventia?"
Gir pulled a huge container of buttered popcorn out of his head. "Story time!"
"No," Zim exclaimed. "Gir, don't—"
The bag exploded open, spewing kernels into every inch of the Cruiser. Zim dug his head out of a huge, yellow pile and coughed some more out of his airway.
"Feel lucky you can move." Tenn snarled from the back.
"Yeah, yeah, just get on with the story." Zim's chair swiveled so he was facing them, which gave Tenn and the robots infinitesimally more room.
"Well," Tenn clawed kernels out of her eyes. "the last time we saw you two was at the Equipping Station, where you got Gir and I got Lio."
