It was extraordinary timing, really. The sleek, black and white chassis pulled backwards, a glowing yellow optic peering thoughtfully to the side. Around the circular chamber the series of geometrically-shaped panels lining the walls shifted slightly to allow soft amber light to filter onto the floor in patterns. Just as She disconnected from the camera on the side of the facility where She had just cornered the fugitives, there was a small pop from behind Her and sensors alerted Her that Blue had returned.
"Welcome back, Blue," She said, swiveling around in Her ceiling mount. "You have completed your task much more efficiently than I suspect Orange has. Your new contribution to Science will be—"
She stopped. A barrage of loud, piercing shouts was assaulting Her aural processors.
"What. Is. That."
The short, blue-eyed android strutted forward, stopping before Her chassis and setting his captive down on the ground with a triumphant rumble. He kept his hands on the creature's narrow shoulders.
The thing was utterly and hideously bizarre. It had honeydew-colored skin that looked washed-out under the light. The creature was humanoid in appearance, but then, so were Blue and Orange if you wanted to take it that far. It lacked so many things that would identify it as human, such as a disgusting nose or flimsy ears. Over Blue's shoulder hovered a small purple robot that resembled a moose, which must have accompanied the alien here.
"What is the meaning of this?" the creature demanded, pulling against Blue and fixing Her with a furious glare. Hm… it was displaying emotion. That in itself was intriguing.
She lowered Herself a little to bring Her eye closer to the creature's remarkably small stature. "Oh, I see you're capable of speech. Well, barely. Do you have any idea why you're here?"
"Of course I do!" the creature snapped, still struggling to free itself from Blue but not making any progress. Finally it stilled, drawing in short breaths through clenched teeth. "…All right, fine. What do you want from me, filthy—" It looked Her up and down through narrowed eyes. "—hanging, computer… thing?"
"Well, if you must know, I simply want to update my records," She replied. She kept Her eye fixed on him. "I have plenty of data on humans, but I've never encountered an extraterrestrial before."
The thing paused and blinked. "Oh, eh," it said. "I am human! I am a normal human. See?" It held up its left hand, palm out, and pointed at it with the right as if to show how human it was. It had two claw-like fingers on its gloved hand, plus a thumb.
"Blue, why did you bring me a human?" She said, rotating to face the android. "I told you to bring an extraterrestrial and instead you came back with a human. Clearly you're defective."
Blue cried out something indistinguishable, looking up at her in horror. The creature, as She had predicted, looked first somewhat taken aback and then smug.
"I suppose the only thing to do now is take the worthless thing to the incinerator," She said, and turned away.
The creature blinked. "What?"
She didn't look at it, instead turning again to the robot holding it captive. "Blue?"
Obediently, Blue started to drag the hapless creature away. The odd purple moose chirped and flung itself at Blue, head-butting him repeatedly but not having much effect. Blue waved it off.
"Fool! I am ZIM!" the alien screeched, fighting tooth and nail to get away from Blue. "I am no worthless human!"
An array of spider-like appendages sprouted from the creature's back—no, it wasn't an array, it was just two. It looked like there were supposed to be four, but the other two had snapped off at some point.
The creature braced one of the metal legs against the ground, levering the other into Blue's frame and popping the robot's round body out of its joints. It rolled several feet across the floor and Blue squawked in protest, his limbs loosening their grip on the creature as his frame staggered after his body. The alien slipped out of his arms and darted across the chamber, using its apparently psychokinetic spider-like legs to give it extra distance.
She swiveled around and caught the small creature in Her stare. "You were saying?"
"You cannot imprison Zim!" it shouted, jabbing a rigid finger in Her direction. Its breathing rasped and its free hand was balled up in a fist at its side. "MiniMoose, come!"
The moose flew over to the alien and hovered over its shoulder. Though it seemed like the moose might be at least partially sentient, it didn't appear to be the brightest robot. Its eyes weren't even looking in the same direction.
"Fascinating… I'm extracting so much information already, and just think—we haven't even started experimenting yet," She said. "For instance, subject is delusional. Of course we can imprison you, alien."
The creature stood at its full height, regarding Her coolly through narrowed blue-gray eyes. Its two functioning spider legs rested behind it, poised with their tips on the floor.
It was a rare moment when She simply sat and watched. Even from here She could see the subtle movements that indicated the creature was breathing. That along with its previous noises indicated that it had some sort of respiratory system.
While She prolonged the silence, unmoving except for the chassis' automatic, idle swaying back and forth, the creature sagged out of its aggressive pose by increments. At last it just stood there awkwardly in full contrapposto, one hand on its hip.
"So eh… where's the way outta here?" it asked.
She matched the question with a question. "Does your species have genders?" It was a question of pure curiosity.
The alien straightened up again. "Of course we do! I'm male!" The last word was drawn out and emphasized. It—well, he, She amended—gave Her a defiant stare before marching around the chamber, examining the walls and panels. The moose trailed after him. That thing didn't seem able to do much more than fly.
"What is your species called?" She asked, swiveling slowly to track the alien's journey around the room and matching his pace perfectly.
"As if I'd tell you," he said, not even glancing at Her.
"If you're looking for an exit, you won't find one," She said. "I brought you here for the express purpose of studying you, and I intend to do just that."
The alien whirled around with a sudden look of panic and defensiveness flashing over his face. "Study?"
"Oh, yes. Science marches on," She said. "I just wanted to see you in person first. Blue," She looked up to address the android, "See what that… thing is that he's wearing on his head."
The alien yelped and tried to dodge. Blue easily caught up, though as he reached down to grab the wig, the alien's floating moose darted forward and knocked his hand away. The android grumbled at it but managed to yank the black plastic wig off the alien's head and toss it aside. Underneath, the creature was revealed to have a bald scalp with two thin, black, insect-like antennae sprouting from the top. The hood of Her nearly-expressionless optic pulled up a fraction.
"And your eyes?" She continued. "I highly doubt that you have human eyes when, from my perspective, you resemble an enormous bug."
"Zim is no BUG," the alien said, sticking his chin out. Blue had taken hold of one of his arms again.
"I can see the fabrications in your eyes from here. Are you going to show me what they really look like, or shall I ask Blue to do it?"
"Nyeh!" the purple moose chirped, moving forward in a valiant attempt to help its master again. In a quick movement, She flashed out a claw and caught it between the two pinchers, then squeezed.
There was a frantic "NYEH!" followed by a crunch.
"MiniMoose!" the alien choked, flailing against Blue's grip. The claw, still gripping the crushed moose toy, retracted into the ceiling.
"Blue, remove the fabrications in the alien's eyes," She directed.
"No!" the alien said, glowering at Her and straining away from Blue's hand. "You just destroyed my ultimate weapon! You squashed him! I built MiniMoose with my own two hands, you know! He was purple!"
She offered no response to this and Blue didn't cease his attempts to pull the contacts out of the alien's eyes. Finally, the alien let out an infuriated growl. He reached up on his own and pulled two colored lenses out of his overly-large eyes, revealing them to be bulbous, glistening, raspberry red, and quite disgusting. They were narrowed in intense loathing. He spat, "There! Happy now?"
Whether She was "happy" or not was really no concern of this creature's. And besides, She wasn't happy. Not yet. There was so much studying to be done on this specimen—and testing, too, of course. Data gleaned from an extraterrestrial would never be comparable to human test results—She had been programmed to test specifically humans, after all, and the Cooperative Testing Initiative had proven that nothing else measured up. Though perhaps the results from an alien's tests would be better received, as he was clearly an organic being.
She turned to Blue, at last giving the command for him to take the alien away and prep him for testing. The alien howled and screamed as he was dragged into the elevator, and the sound didn't cut out until long after the two of them had vanished into the floor.
Chell wanted to go after the robot right away. But when she got back to her feet, she found that her entire right leg had seized up and she could barely walk, let alone run.
Whatever she had done to her leg in That Place was worse than she'd thought.
Grimacing, she stared off in the direction that the robot had vanished. If only she had managed to hit her target.
"Any idea where they went?" Gaz asked. Chell had to take in a deep breath and let it out slowly in order to calm her temper.
"Yes," she said.
Gaz was quiet for a moment. "The same place you said Dib and your robot were?"
"Yes."
"And how do you get there?"
"The entrance is miles away."
Aperture Science now had two living, sentient captives, one of which was a kid and the other an alleged alien. Without help, the two of them would be trapped there until they died. Chell's legs almost gave out and she turned her head to the side, pressing two fingers to her temple and closing her eyes. She had never wanted to go on a rescue mission. Especially not back there. She'd only wanted to find and confront Whe—that core. That was it. And even that wasn't an option anymore.
Why did she have to do this? Why did she have to get involved? Why had she gone after Wheatley in the first place?! She really had had no desire to see him again—she knew that. But still there had been something pulling at her. Ever since she had first overheard that hated voice through Professor Membrane's door, something had started driving her to go after him, find him, and demand an explanation. Maybe exact revenge.
"You like revenge, don't you? Everybody likes revenge! Well, let's go get some!"
A foul taste rose in Chell's mouth and she lifted her head, blinking. Her eyes were moist. Frowning, she swiped over them with the back of her hand. Tears? Again?
With a start she realized that Gaz was no longer by her side. Looking around, she spotted the girl walking down the sidewalk in the opposite direction of where the blue-eyed robot had disappeared. Chell gave her head a shake and started after her.
"Where are you going?" she demanded.
"Home," Gaz replied. Chell stopped. Gaz continued on. Soon she turned a corner and disappeared from sight. She didn't come back—the girl had abandoned her older brother to the Facility.
No one was going to come for him. Even Professor Membrane, the boy's father, hadn't seemed worried about his son's welfare the day before.
Not one other person knew or cared where he was.
Chell turned on her heel and limped in the direction of her apartment building. As she walked her leg eased up and gave her more freedom of movement, though she was entirely conscious of the fact that that didn't mean the problem was gone. It would likely only get worse, especially with the future running and jumping she would be doing down there.
It was ten minutes later that she reached her door, unlocked it, and stumbled inside. Though just being here gave her a feeling of relief, there was no time to relax. Chell made a beeline for the tiny hall closet and opened the door. On the floor, wedged as far in the back as they would sit and nestled next to a worn, orange jumpsuit, was a pair of off-white boots. Originally they had been pure white but they'd been through enough wear and tear to counter that. They were scratched and scuffed and smelled of old plastic and sweat. When she'd put them away, Chell had planned never to use them again, but in the back of her mind she'd always known that there might come a time when she'd need them. And so she'd kept them. Now, apparently, today was that day.
She pulled them out and picked up a corner of the jumpsuit, considering it. Was there any advantage to wearing it? Jumpsuits weren't emancipated by those stupid grills, for one thing. They also may provide minimal protection against laser burns but she doubted that. She shuddered at the thought of wearing it again. She even hated touching it. But if it might help, then she had to take it along. If nothing else, it may prove useful to have extra cloth on hand for sleeping material or bandages. Chell snagged an old, ratty backpack from the top of the closet and stuffed the jumpsuit in on top of the other supplies packed inside. The backpack was heavy—there was a first-aid kit in there, a small blanket, a flashlight of course, and all manner of other things she'd packed just in case a situation like this should ever arise.
With a sigh she stood back up, shouldering the backpack and tucking the long fall boots under her arm. She rummaged in her satchel. Her wallet was there, her gun was there, and extra ammunition was stowed in the backpack. There was nothing else that might be of use in the apartment. It was time to go.
Chell turned and marched out her door, closing and locking it without once looking back.
The halls and corridors were still full of the murky yellow-green smog. Visibility was almost nil; anything could be hiding in that stuff. There could be twenty or more constructs and robots lying in wait, watching him groan sluggishly down his rail.
You should've stayed.
Wheatley's upper optic shutter drooped down as low as it would go and his gaze didn't waver from the floor. There was no sound except for the ever-present, never-ending Hum of the Facility, a noise that a few short hours ago he had never expected to hear again. The cloud of neurotoxin around him thinned out as time passed. It had served its purpose.
So what now?
What could he do now? Dib had been killed just like all those scientists from so long ago. Wheatley was completely alone again, only this time She was online and on the lookout for him. He'd never been so completely and utterly alone since before he had met—
His eye widened. The lady! He could find the lady!
"Ohohoh, that's brilliant!" Wheatley said. "I could find her—tell her everything—apologize, oh, I could apologize! And break her out again, definitely, and we could get out, and then we'd go and fetch Spacey from Dib's house…"
He stopped and shivered as his thoughts once again turned to Dib, the metal plates of his casing rattling. I failed again.
What had he done? Why did he leave? Couldn't he have done… something? No, but maybe running off hadn't really been the right thing to do in that scenario. In the case of his own self-preservation, yes, it had been the best idea, but in the case of—
Once again he cut off the thought, his optic shutters twitching closer together and his handlebars pulling in toward his face. He watched in silence as the yellow-green cloud filling the air vanished completely.
His optic drifted closed. "I'm sorry, mate."
"I see you've abandoned another human."
Wheatley's eye shot open and he jerked backwards on his rail.
"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You know how you haven't heard from me all this time? I was looking at your records. According to this one, not only are you the Intelligence Dampening Sphere, but you're programmed as the Traitor Sphere as well. I suppose there wasn't enough budget to build two ill-conceived cores, so they combined—no, wait." There was a pause. Wheatley waited, hardly daring to move. Her voice sounded small and tinny and he had located its source as coming from an old intercom on the wall. "I'm sorry, I misread that. You're not the Traitor Core. You're doing the 'traitor' thing all on your own."
"I'm not!" Wheatley blurted, unsure whether She could actually hear him or not. He motored over to the intercom and narrowed his optic shields at it in a glare. "I'm not a traitor! I'm not the one who released neurotoxin into the bloody hallways just now!"
There was no response. You probably had to press a button in order to talk back to Her.
"And another thing, you know what?" Wheatley said, rearing up a little and still shouting at the intercom. "You should stop tryin' to blame other people for things you've done, yeah!"
"Hypocrite," the voice responded flatly. Wheatley quailed and pulled back again. Oh. "I seem to remember you blaming everyone but yourself for your many, many mistakes when you were 'in charge' of this place."
"Did- did I?" Wheatley asked in a small voice, simulating a gulp. "I think you, ah, misunderstood me, see what I actually meant was—"
"As for your comment about neurotoxin, it's true that you didn't purposefully release it into the room, but it was released due to your own stupidity. Need I point that out?"
"Oh, ho ho," Wheatley laughed bitterly. "Are we really gonna do that? Yeah, sure, that great bloody neurotoxin cloud was let loose in the halls because I messed with the generator a flipping year ago. You and I both know that the generator would've been absolutely fine if you hadn't… hadnnnn'twhat am I DOING?" He lurched backwards, his optic contracting with a sharp prick of pain as the broken edges of it scraped against each other.
"I would be wary of speaking my mind if I were you," the voice said. "I'll be listening."
The intercom shut off with a beep. Wheatley didn't hesitate a second before rushing off down the rail, servos whirring and connector screeching in protest. If She had been able to hear him through the intercom, She must know exactly where he was and that meant he had to get away as fast as his motor would carry him. He careened down the rail, searching desperately for a hiding place he could be sure was out of Her reach.
"Double cheeseburger," Chell said to the dull-eyed teenager behind the counter. She had to force the words out as her stomach heaved at the very idea of eating right now.
"You want the combo or just the burger?" the boy asked, rubbing his pimply nose with one finger.
Chell ordered the combo, paid an absurd amount of money for a meal that was sure to be mostly grease, and was told to wait while her food was prepared. She cast a glance back to the table where she'd stowed her backpack and boots. They remained undisturbed. She licked her lips and swallowed, taking in a shaky breath. Ever since she'd stepped out of her apartment the world had seemed out of focus and distant, like nothing around her was real. But that made sense, didn't it? She was going back there. She'd only ever revisited the place in nightmares. And somehow, the dreams she was plagued with by night had always been more vivid and real than her waking life.
Maybe she'd never escaped at all. Maybe, instead of venturing into a waking nightmare, she was simply waking up after a long stay in the Relaxation Center.
Chell pinched herself in the upper arm, hard.
"Ma'am?" someone said, startling her into looking up. The boy at the counter was holding up a dirty paper bag that looked, as she had expected, like it had been dipped in grease. In the other hand he had an empty cup. "Your food's ready." He nodded at the arm she'd just pinched. "You gonna be all right?"
"I'm fine." Chell took the bag and the cup, which she filled to the brim with salty lemonade from the soda fountain beside the counter. Then she sat at her table facing away from the front of the store so she wouldn't have to look at that boy anymore.
Inside the bag was a burger wrapped haphazardly in flimsy paper marked with the MacMeatie's logo, along with a carton of cold French fries. Chell gulped everything down without really tasting it, which was probably for the best. When she was done she sat still for a long moment, clenching the edge of the table in an iron grip. Her eyesight had gone blurry. She blinked and rubbed at her eyes, taking a shaky breath before gathering up her trash, draining the rest of her lemonade in a few gulps, and dumping everything in the nearest trashcan. She picked up her backpack and boots again and left the building with quick, purposeful strides.
The air outside the MacMeatie's building, while not exactly fresh, definitely smelled better than inside. Chell rolled her shoulders in an attempt to ease up her tense muscles and walked to the bus stop a few yards down the street, sitting down on the bench and running her finger over the route map standing next to her. Two bus transfers would take her as close to the rundown, unobtrusive little shack as she could get via the road. She'd have to walk the rest of the way.
According to the schedule, the next bus wasn't coming for twenty minutes. Chell clenched and unclenched her fists, forcing herself to stay seated and wait. She itched to hop up and just walk to the shack, but she knew that was a bad idea. There was such a thing as conserving energy and as far as she could figure, that was about the best thing she could do right now. She would be of no help to anyone if she arrived at the Facility too exhausted to move. Besides, she hadn't even walked to this town when she'd first been released. She had spent most of the trip hitchhiking. Walking would be a whole different story.
The minutes crawled by. Chell closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing and struggling to get her heart to beat at a more normal rate. Right now it was racing.
"Need a lift?"
Chell's eyes snapped open at the familiar voice. Hovering in front of her was a large red object with a capsule in the front and long claw-like features protruding from the back. It was a little vehicle—a tiny, red, other-worldly vehicle. The capsule opened to reveal Gaz, her hands on the controls. Chell stood up, clutching her pack and boots to her chest and staring. "What is that?"
"Dib's stupid alien ship," Gaz replied, her voice almost emotionless. "I know it looks like it'll collapse any second, but it actually does fly. I fixed it up myself. Come on, it'll get you wherever you're going much faster than a bus." The girl took the ship down until it landed on the road.
Chell cast Gaz a glance. A kid her age probably wasn't the best person to fix any kind of spacecraft, let alone an alien one. The girl opened the glass dome of the ship, looking at Chell again. "So, do you want to come help get Dib out of whatever stupid mess he's gotten himself into this time? Or not."
Chell looked the ship over again—it looked big enough for two kids to fit, but an adult her size might have trouble. Her mouth tightened into a dark line and her eyes hardened. She clambered into the ship next to Gaz and squeezed herself into the tiny space. The capsule closed back over her head and she gave an involuntary shudder, unbidden images of the pod beds in the Relaxation Chambers rising to the forefront of her mind.
Gaz didn't move from her spot. "I'll drive. You'd probably run us straight into the ground."
Fine. Chell leaned back into the uncomfortable seat, unable to shake the tension from her arms. She stiffened as the ship lifted from the ground and hovered for a second before Gaz took it forward, higher and higher above the road until the bench Chell had been sitting on moments before was a tiny blue dot far below. Chell gripped the edge of her seat and swallowed hard.
"Where are we going? Do you have coordinates?" Gaz asked. Chell nodded, her face pale and her teeth gnashing together. She reached over to the screen Gaz presented to her and punched in the coordinates she had learned by heart nearly a year ago. With every number her head throbbed as the gravity of the situation fully took hold. She was going back. She was going, willingly, back to that place. She'd likely come face-to-face with the two AIs that she despised more than anyone or anything else that she had ever come across. …Well, one of them, anyway…
She sighed, her eyes sliding closed and her head dropping down. Somehow, despite the sick feeling the thought of returning gave her, the knowledge wasn't much of a shock. With a start, she realized it was because she wasn't surprised in the least. She had already known. She'd known ever since she'd stood outside of that room and heard that core's voice through the door—no. She'd known well before that. She'd known since the elevator had opened and she'd stepped out of a tiny shack in the middle of a sunny wheat field.
You never truly leave Aperture Science. Not for long.
Chell slitted open her eyes and stared directly forward. They were flying over a city, though whether it was the city she'd been living in for a year or a different one she didn't know. Her eyes flitted to the screen—yes, they were going the right way. Gaz kept her face stoic as she flew and was completely silent. Chell let out a breath, feeling the muscles in her arms relax one by one. This ride would be her last reprieve before venturing into the depths of the Facility. She shifted her gaze to Gaz again.
She had assumed the girl had decided to abandon her brother. And while that thought had been shocking, it had been something of a relief. The fewer kids near that place, the better. She wished the girl was not coming along. The thought ate at her heart like a parasite. Aperture was no place for children, that was for sure.
It was like a nightmare.
One of those horrid visions that sometimes plagued him when stress elevated his paranoia to staggering amounts or when he was rendered unconscious by a failed experiment.
Zim sat curled in a corner, hunched over with his face and body bathed in sweat. His uniform clung to his skin and his hands were cold and clammy. He rubbed them together to massage some of the feeling back into them. The room in which he was imprisoned was small, only a few paces from end to end, but he tried not to think about that. He also tried not to think about the fact that he was trapped without a disguise in a strange, sinister-looking place that he had been dragged to by a robot. There was no way out of this room—he'd checked. There wasn't even a door. He'd only gotten in here via a panel that pulled out of the way to make enough room for the brutish robot to shove him in. It was hot and stuffy in the tiny place and there was barely any air to breathe.
And there was the fact that that giant hanging thing had figured out his identity. It had to be some sort of trick. Probably Dib was the mastermind behind all of this, stupid human.
This was just another ruse to get Zim to fail his mission. But it wasn't—it wasn't working.
There was a soft beep.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," a female voice, belonging to the robotic behemoth he had encountered earlier, said, only she didn't sound sorry at all. "There were a few things in the facility that demanded my attention for a short while. Actually, there is still one loose end that needs to be taken care of, but don't worry about that. It'll be dealt with soon enough, and then we can begin the testing. Starting with an examination.
"Also, I must apologize for your current, well, we'll call them living conditions. Right now it's the safest place to keep you because I don't know what all you're capable of. Oh, but I will." Her voice took on a sinister undertone. "Believe me, I will. Think of how much Science could advance by simply studying your extraterrestrial biology. It's an exciting prospect, don't you agree?"
Zim swiped his tongue over his dry lips in an effort to regain the power of speech, but all that came out was a slight cough. Inwardly he berated himself. What was his problem? He wasn't scared of a computer. He feared NOTHING. Bracing one hand against the wall, he rose to his feet. His antennae lifted slightly and brushed the ceiling of the tiny space, sending shivers through his scalp. He gave a loud cough for no other purpose than to find his voice again. "Release me!" he finally managed to shout.
"I'll be back soon," the computer said. "I have to go—" She broke off and her voice became just a little bit fainter. "Orange, what are you doing here? You haven't completed your task yet. What are you—" Her voice returned to its normal level. "Don't go anywhere." With that, there was another beep, indicating that the intercom—or whatever she was talking to him from—had shut off. There was a definite shift in the little room as if a malignant presence had faded away. Zim collapsed with his back against the wall, the metal of his PAK clinking on the plaster surface. He started to sink back down into a sitting position but with a strenuous effort pulled himself up again. No, he was not going to just sit around listlessly. He was going to… do something.
His radio sprang from his PAK on a metal arm. It hit the low ceiling with a loud clang that rattled Zim's eardrums and he winced, pulling the radio around so he could speak into it. "GIR!"
The radio crackled but there was otherwise no response.
Zim smacked it with the heel of his hand a few times. "GIR? Come in! GIR! Hello?" Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and he wiped them away. "I know you're there, GIR! The radio's inside your head! So unless you've managed to dislodge your head again—"
"Hiiiii!" the shrill voice of the robot finally came through the radio.
"GIR! Good!" Zim straightened up. "I need your help. I've been abducted—"
"You gettin' Suck Munkeys?" GIR asked.
Zim shook his head. "No! I've been abducted by a robot working for a deranged science facility! MiniMoose is out of commission and I'm trapped in a tiny room. You have to get me out of here immediately! Do you understand, GIR?"
"Uh huh," GIR said, but he sounded distracted by something. He was always distracted by something.
"Come to these coordinates right away!" Zim said.
"Okey-dokey!" GIR cheered. The line crackled again and Zim caught a bit of dialogue blaring from the television in his base before the radio shut off.
GIR would come through. GIR always came through. Usually. Most times. In the meantime, Zim would come up with a plan—a brilliant plan, a plan worthy of the Irken Empire, worthy of ZIM—
Zim stood still in the dark, tiny room, wringing his hands.
"He's dead. You know that, right?"
Orange clutched the small figure to her oblong core so that he was pressed up against her, right beneath her optic. Her knees shook. The suspended chassis towered in front of her with the yellow optic bearing down on her small form. She let out a low chitter of protest.
"There's nothing you can do for him. And honestly, I'm not sure why you'd want to help him. What have humans ever done for you?"
Orange squeaked and shook her face vigorously, jostling the limp bundle in her arms. He was still warm and she could feel the slight trembling of the little human's breath, though it seemed weak and uneven to her. The human was alive, but only just, and she knew it wouldn't be long before he stopped functioning entirely.
"You can't help him. He's not worth expending the resources on."
The narrowed, yellow optic turned away. Orange shook, hugging the small human to herself. True, she hadn't managed to catch her real target—the blue-eyed core—but she couldn't just leave this human lying there. Maybe if Blue had been with her at the time he would have convinced her otherwise. Maybe humans were best left for dead. But Blue wasn't here—she didn't know where he was, and she missed him almost more than her circuits could bear—and she knew that unless the master of the Facility ordered her to dispose of the human she had to do whatever she could to keep him alive.
The sounds of his breathing were growing shallower.
"He's probably not even good for testing," She said.
Orange cringed and waited for the order to come. All she could tell herself was that she'd done everything she could.