"So... how long are you 'grounded' Dib-monkey?" Zim asked, communicating via his home computer and my laptop.
"For the next fifty years," Dib tried mimicking his father's serious voice. "Possibly less with sane behavior."
After his father had regained consciousness and seen the media piece between Dib and the Swollen Eyeball Network, he declared his son had breached their unwritten contract in which Dib promised not to embarrass him in public again. He was henceforth banished to house arrest until Membrane and his P.R. group could fix his defense system and take back control from the 'paranormal crackpots' currently handling the situation.
Zim considered this, rubbing his chin with a black-gloved hand. "Fifty years is nothing to an Irken, but it is my understanding that humans become increasingly weak and feeble minded. You'd be useless to me."
Dib laughed ruefully. "You don't have to worry about that. I have a plan. One good thing about having an absentee parent is it's much easier to keep secrets. I think you'll like this one. I was inspired by you, after all."
Zim visibly preened, his chest swelling with pride, despite not knowing what exactly it was he had inspired. "Show Zim, earth filty!"
Dib bowed in mock respect. "As you wish, my lord."
The mocking was lost on Zim, of course. Something about having his former nemesis addressing him as his sovereign and displaying submissive respect delighted Zim's brain. It sent a delicious thrill directly to his PAK's pleasure center... not unlike the times Dib stroked his antennae.
Though he didn't quite understand it, Zim liked the good feelings that came from being with the Dib lately. He wanted to feel more good things in the future. He imagined what that future would be like...
To reward his successful conquest of Earth, Zim's tallest had him reassigned to Planet Vort, home of the universe's most comfortable couch. His body lay sprawled across it, while his head lay in Dib's lap. The human busied himself stroking Zim's antennae with one hand and feeding him from an open box of donuts with the other, a steady stream of compliments flowing from his lips.
"You have impeccable taste in fashion, my lord," Dib murmured to him, lowering a chocolate eclair into Zim's waiting mouth. "You are also the best at making death bees. That kid you passed on the street yesterday wishes he could grow up to be just like you."
Zim grinned happily as he chewed, licking the residue chocolate off his lips with his long flexible tongue. "Mmm, yes, that's all so true." He closed his eyes in satisfaction. "What else is wonderful about me?"
"Your minions all worry they aren't as magnificent as you," Dib replied, delivering a powdered donut to his master's palate this time. "Your skin smells like freshly cut grass. People at trivia night are terrified of you."
Zim chuckled around his mouthful of fried pastry, "They are, aren't they?"
"..im? Hey, Zim? Earth to Spaceboy!"
Zim blinked the daydream away, "Eh?"
Dib raised an eyebrow, "The coordinates? Your gift? Senseless violence and destruction?"
Zim's antennae piqued with interest. "Gift? Destruction?" His zipper-toothed smile sprang into being. "Where?! What is it?!"
Dib chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Here, I'll just transmit them to you."
A few keystrokes later, there was a blip on Zim's screen as a file popped up. He clicked on it, and it opened into several pop-up windows revealing a map, a blinking pointer, and a 3-D blueprint of-
Zim could hardly believe his eyes. "My Megadoomer?"
Dib smiled. "New and improved."
"But it was destroyed!"
"And now it's rebuilt."
"How?"
"I found the owner's manual on a recent expedition in the city sewers. Brand new." He winked slyly. "Still in it's original shrink wrap seal."
It was Zim's turn to roll his eyes. "Of course you did! It's an owner's manual! Nobody reads those things. They're used as step stools and booster seats." He then jumped back and added hastily, "Um, er, or so I've heard!"
"Riiight," Dib nodded condescendingly. "Anyway, I made a few modifications to it." He began counting off his fingers. "One, the cloaking device's range now extends to include the driver inside, not just the mech itself; two, I replaced the rechargeable batteries with alkalines; and three, I've removed the self-destruct button."
Zim had been nodding sagely along with each improvement, but he froze upon hearing the last one. "You WHAT?!" He slammed his palms on his dashboard. "A self-destruct button is standard issue in all aspects of Irken culture! I myself have one in my right-" He caught himself just before blurting out its secret location. "Ahem... the point is, Irken manufactured things always have self-destruct buttons. This is an Irken thing, thus it must have a self-destruct button!"
He nodded again, to himself this time, and crossed his arms decisively.
"Actually, it's a Vortian thing," Dib replied, holding up said manual and pointing at the back cover. On the bottom was clearly stamped: Made on Planet Vort.
"Conquered Vortians," Zim elaborated. "Anything created by a species under Irken subjugation automatically becomes Irken property."
"But humans haven't been conquered yet," Dib winked as he set the book down. "And it was re-created by human hands." He wiggled his fingers teasingly.
"Wrah!" Zim growled and brought up his shaking fists in frustration. "Filthy slug! The Megadoomer belonged to ME, understand?! Filthy, squirmy Dib! SQUIRMY!"
"Anyway," Dib continued nonchalantly, "the coordinates I sent you are for the underground lab I used to rebuild it in my spare time. I left a dirt mound to mark its location for good measure. Of course, if you don't want to use my gift," he leered "you could always make your own and build in as many self-destruct buttons as you want."
Zim was torn. One the one hand he could easily create his own battle mech. On the other hand, it would take days and he wanted to go on a wanton rampage now. He mumbled something about Dib's gargantuan head being stuffed with brain parasites.
"What was that?" Dib asked with false cheerfulness.
"I said fine!" Zim snapped. "No self-destruct button."
He made a mental note to secretly install one later.
Dib was interrupted from further bullying the alien as a beeping icon in the bottom left corner of his computer screen alerted him that he had an incoming call. He glanced briefly at the username. The edges of his lips twitched with mischief and he stealthily typed out a few quick commands.
Zim heard the keystrokes and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What are you doing?"
"I've gotta go, Zim," Dib smiled apologetically. "Good luck finding my hidden base. Oh and feel free to call me if you get lost on the way."
Sudden anger made Zim forget his suspicions. "Fool! My navigation skills are superb! If anything it's pitiful worm children like you that... you..." He pointed a shaking claw at the human. "Grr, you make me so mad! Horrible puny-brained meat child, with your little glasses and...and.." He stomped his feet like a child. "GARGANTUAN HEAD!"
"...Woah," Dib said aloud, too shocked to filter his thoughts. "You're actually really hot when you're angry. I didn't think that was a real thing."
The alien had his hands on his hips, his cheeks were flushed, and his pouty lips made his eyes look bigger by comparison. The tension in his face made his cheekbones stand out more.
Zim's eyes became even bigger. He then narrowed them for a minute as he ordered his PAK to do a quick internal scan. When it was done, he said, "My temperature has increased slightly, but I don't see why that should matter to you."
Dib felt the beginnings of uncontrollable laughter, bubble up in his throat. Why did he find this absurdity so cripplingly hilarious? He had to look away.
"I... I'm sorry," he choked out. "I can't..." he struggled to find the word "I can't brain today. We'll talk later."
Before Zim could protest, Dib ended the communication and brought up his new caller in another window. It was the Dib-Ship. He let out a long, slow breath until the throat bubble cleared.
"Sorry for not replying right away," the human straightened his posture. "So, what do you have to report?"
At first, there was only silence on the line. The visual showed an empty pilot's chair softly illuminated by the various glowing buttons on the dashboard. As the ship was it's own pilot, this wasn't the problem. Dib also knew the line was working properly because the icon was lit green, so the hesitation in response must be for that other reason. When he'd seen who was calling him, Dib had secretly gone ahead and opened a new line alongside the one he was already using to chat with Zim, essentially turning it into a 3-way conference call. The ship had heard and seen everything, but couldn't contribute because his audio had been conveniently muted... until just now.
Dib crossed his arms. "Don't pout," he chided his mechanical counterpart. "I warned you I was serious about him, didn't I? And weren't you so confident about coming up with an alternate plan to stop me?"
"...You're an idiot," the ship finally replied. "And I'm not pouting. I'm just thinking about the situation more seriously than you are. And I did have a plan."
Dib waited for the ship to say more on the subject of said plan, but it went silent. A full minute ticked by, the atmosphere becoming thicker by the second with the weight of some unspoken burden hanging in the air.
"But?" Dib finally prompted.
"It... it didn't go so... I didn't mean to... UGH!" the Dib-ship exclaimed in frustration. "I read your stupid diary, okay?!"
Dib pretended to be surprised, as if he hadn't planted it in exactly where he knew the ship would find it while snooping around his things behind his back. "It's not a diary-"
"Journal, whatever!" the ship's buttons flashed in annoyance. "But I can't believe it! Not a single word of it. Dad would never do the sort of thing you're accusing him. Never!"
Dib waited a few seconds for the ship to calm down, and then asked quietly, "Wanna prove me wrong, then?"
The ship was taken aback. "How?"
"Simple," Dib stood up and stretched his arms overhead. "We find the brain chip. If it's not there, then I'll admit I made a horrible mistake and put an end to all this myself."
"And if we do find it?" the Dib-Ship asked warily.
"When we find it," Dib corrected him. "You're going to help me kill my father."
Author's Notes:
littlebirdy: Thank you for your encouraging reviews on this and my other stories :D It's because of you that I finally decided to come back and finish this chapter. No promises on when the next one will come, though...
