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Chapter Twenty-Seven
Three Minutes
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It was the hottest day on record at the time when Membrane was given his bride.
He was decades younger, with jet-black hair cropped close to his head. He had been working for some years at a lab studying interstellar transportation and general alien phenomena, particularly on the Irkens, and had gained rank quickly due to his enthusiasm and vigor regarding the work. Far beyond what many of the others would do, Membrane let nothing stand in the way of his research, regardless of the personal cost. When human test subjects were needed, he farmed his own family members. It didn't matter if they screamed or if they begged. It didn't matter that they were family. They were easily accessible and therefore easily used. When the day finally arrived that the project at hand involved a breeding program between a human and Irken captive, Membrane, by this point alone in the world, offered himself.
The woman—if, indeed, she could be called that—had been on her way to her own assigned planet of conquest when a ship failure caused her to veer far, far off course. She'd come crashing to Earth, nearly dead from it, and was met and taken by the scientists. After they had well and finished their interrogation and torture of the creature, they extracted DNA from her and gave her to Membrane as his wife.
"Don't be squeamish, Membrane," he was told. "I know you're not one for… baser instincts, but do your best. This is a breeding project, after all."
"You insult me," the young man replied, eyes blazing with zeal. "It is for research. I will do everything to the letter, thoroughly and precisely."
While her extracted DNA was used in tests to attempt the production of gametes, her body was beaten and broken by her new husband in his own tests. He had many questions: How might they become physically compatible? What sexual method could be the one to properly impregnate the thing? In what way might the PAK be involved and utilized? The Irken was so much smaller than he; what would a hybrid offspring even be like? Would it kill her?
After six months of tests, it was determined that the marriage was not viable, and so the Irken was separated from her PAK and shortly dissected.
—
They had three minutes until Zim would kill Amy and Val.
Dib didn't consider the possibility that Zim might be bluffing. By the time the alien's voice had faded from the intercom, Dib and Membrane had already acquired weapons—something like a baton crossed with a taser—and were moving toward Zim's location. The plan they'd cobbled together involved taking Zim by surprise and temporarily removing his PAK from his body. They would try to reconnect him to the tube he'd been held in years ago, along with reattaching his PAK. Dib had been stunned to learn that Membrane did not intend to kill the Irken, merely to return him to a captive state; but he was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Captive meant alive, which meant hope—hope to fix the mess he'd made.
The rumbling of the lab had stopped, for now; Dib took this as a good sign. When they could, they found a functioning intercom panel. Dib spoke into it: "Zim, my dad and I are heading for you now. This is not a trick. My dad is really coming. Please don't hurt my girls." To Dib's great relief, Membrane said nothing as they continued on. They had two minutes left. If all went according to plan, there wouldn't be any more blood shed today. He'd call Gaz, tell her everything, promise to make it right, whatever had to be done. He would have time to make a new plan. It would be okay.
—
The next woman was human. She was not meant as a physical wife for anyone like the Irken had been; she was to be used as a surrogate for the gametes extracted from the dead Irken's DNA. The lab performed a partial lobotomy on her first to render her easier to control. This, however, led Membrane to be far more disgusted by her than he had been by his wife.
"At least she fought!" he'd yell at her in frustration. "At least she had a will and a spirit! You have been made less than an animal!"
They took to calling her "the host," as none of the scientists felt comfortable using her name. The tests they performed on her involved implanting manufactured Irken embryos into her womb. In theory, if the pregnancy took, the child born would be an exact genetic replica of the Irken woman. As it were, though, the human womb was too much for the fragile Irken genes, and all of the pregnancies self-terminated.
In the face of their failures, the scientists altered their strategy.
—
"I'm guessing that was him?" Dax asked dryly. He snorted. "Sounds like a real winner."
"Shut your fucking mouth," Gaz hissed, whirling on him. "You don't know dick about any of this."
"Alright, alright. Jesus Christ. Where to?"
Gaz scowled. "Seems like Zim's the one destroying the lab. Let's find him and kick his ass."
"No, no," said Dax. The lights flickered overhead. "I'm supposed to deliver you directly to your dad."
"And what are you gonna do if I don't obey you? Shoot me? I'm sure Dad'll love that. No, we're gonna go find Zim. Let's go."
Grumbling to himself, Dax followed Gaz through the rubble. She was taking what seemed to be the path Zim had made in his wake, figuring he must be at the end of it somewhere. And when I find him, she thought, I'm going to make him hurt for hurting me.
—
They were finally successful. They'd managed to combine the genes of the Irken woman, Membrane, and the human host in a Petri dish, making an embryo about twenty-five percent Irken, seventy-five percent human. After implanting the abomination into the host's womb, they injected her routinely with more manufactured Irken DNA, and the pregnancy completed in eight months with the birth of a disappointingly human-looking boy. It appeared almost identical to Membrane in every way, and Membrane agreed to raise the boy as his son.
—
Val and Amy were suspended in the air, held around the waists by tentacle-like tubes protruding out of Zim's PAK. Their mouths were closed by another, thinner appendage. Zim hadn't been able to stomach the cries of the wailing earth woman. He knew the Dibstink was on his way, and there were less than two minutes remaining before his self-imposed deadline.
A clinking sound attracted his attention. "WHO IS THAT?" he demanded, using a voice that was far louder than necessary. He raised a laser, readying it. "HAVE YOU ARRIVED AT LAST, EARTH-FILTH?"
But it wasn't Dib. It was Gir.
"Master! I've been looking everywhere for you!" The robot was dented slightly on its head. "I was coming with Lady Dib and Baby Dib, but then a rock hit me and I had to restart!"
Zim blinked incredulously. "GIR! What are you doing here? Where have you BEEN? It's been YEARS—" He stopped short; Gir had reached inside its chest and pulled out a small, round, unmistakeable purple object.
"Master is a genius, but sometimes Master is dumber than even Gir," scolded the robot. "Gaz's smeet will need a PAK. I went aaaaaaaaaall the way to Irk and stole this."
Zim felt himself go cold all over as he listened. "But… but why? And HOW? Irk is too far away. You would not have come in time." He crossed his arms over his chest. "And anyway, it is not my smeet. There was no need for you to make the journey."
"Master, this is you being dumb." Gir tucked the PAK back away inside its chest compartment. "The smeet belongs to Master and Gaz. You're a dad now!"
"But…" Zim clasped his head in his hands. "How did this happen? What…" His gaze moved along his PAK's limbs to where he held the Dibstink's wife and offspring. Suddenly, none of this seemed right anymore. "But—but Membrane still has to pay!" he said aloud, anger broiling in him again. "Because of him, the Great Zim—"
"It is because of the Professor that Gaz exists," chirped Gir, "and also why the smeet exists. Master owes him much."
The Irken surged forward and wrapped his hands around the robot's neck, ready to shake it; but he stopped, knowing the PAK lay inside. "I DO NOT LISTEN TO MY SERVANTS," he screamed, but the words felt hollow. His grip loosened, and suddenly, Gir zipped back, squeaking a warning as something heavy cracked on Zim's side, knocking him over. Amy and Val made muffled cries as their bindings jerked.
A gun was cocked at the same time a foot pressed down hard on the side of the alien's face. "Hey, Fuckface," said Gaz, her voice hard like ice. "Thought you could abandon me so easily?"
—
Upon review of the host woman's body, it was discovered her womb, through the injections and pregnancy, had become so weakened as to be hospitable to Irken genes. The second child, then, was made up of only DNA from Membrane and his dead Irken wife, making her an incredible half-breed crime against nature. It was a magnificent feat of science.
In a bizarre twist that shocked all his colleagues, Membrane named the girl-child Gaz, which had been the name of his Irken wife.