"No, Zim. Absolutely not. No, no, no." Gaz was scrolling through her options as Zim had laid out for her on the main computer screen in his lab. Gir was sleeping in his dog outfit down by their feet. It was now Thursday, final night of preparation. Friday would be a day off so they would be fresh for the weekend.
For two days after school they would practically lock themselves in Gaz's Gaming Den under Zim's base and try to work out disaster scenarios they may face in the upcoming competition. There weren't many, but one was doosy.
The first problem was that they would always be outnumbered. That wasn't so much of a problem. While it would increase the amount of fire they would take, it also provided them with more targets of opportunity. The biggest one was not so much in the game environment itself, but the social nature of the humans outside the game. They called it the grapevine, water-cooler gossip, and many other names.
Once one opposing team faced Zim riding full tilt in the Armored Assault Walker, word would spread rapidly that somebody at the convention was really, really, unnaturally good in that particular vehicle. Unbelievably good. If that person got in the walker, it was pretty much game over for the other side kind of good. The top teams would be watching for it eventually, and it was those teams that they would be facing in the finals. It would not take them long to figure out who was the juggernaut in the walker during the final stages of competition, and when they did there was a very simple strategy to negate that overwhelming advantage.
Get one of their people in it first just to keep Zim out, because there was only one walker on any map.
Urban environments was Zim's strength, with thick jungles being Gaz's. Forest Villages was somewhere in between the two of them. However, desert was their weak point with little cover or concealment. It was usually considered a dedicated heavy armor/air support map. Without the walker to compensate for their fewer numbers in open terrain, they could have enormous trouble in that environment.
For two afternoons they had worked to find a solution, but neither Zim nor Gaz was happy about what they had come up with. The first was hope it wouldn't happen. Like Zim and Gaz were real big on that. The second was if presented with that scenario, wage a strictly defensive campaign using infantry engineer kits to lay thick anti-tank minefields then switch to rocket infantry and drive their own tanks into dug in positions to cover the approaches.
Neither of them liked it, but it was the best they could come up with for that specific situation. While the semi-finals were best 2 out of 3 rounds, and finals best 3 out of 5, it was not in their nature to accept any loss. Although losing a single round would not be devastating, Gaz played to win at all times. Zim lived for it. And both were notoriously sore losers. But there was little more they could do than devise basic contingency plans without actually facing their opponents in the game.
The other option that they would probably go for was more of a general strategy to the whole competition. Zim would simply not completely cut loose unless it was absolutely necessary. Gaz would have to help keep him in check most of the time. After all, Zim did get "carried away" on his own homeworld once before!
So now Zim and Gaz were going over other preparations. One was installing a second seat in the Voot cruiser. Zim would take care of that later. Tomorrow evening they would catch back up in their schoolwork, then each of them would prepare their own meals for the entire weekend so they wouldn't have to spend more energy cooking after their return commute. They would burn up most of that energy in the competition and would need to rest and relax between days. Right now they were examining Gaz's "costume," making use of Zim's disguise program.
"Nope. Notta. No way. Forget it," Gaz was flipping through designs on the monitor Zim had come up with very rapidly.
"Gaz-partner! You're not even looking at them!"
"They're all bald!"
"Of course they are. Irkens don't have hair."
"For the last time, I'm NOT shaving my head!"
"But it's authentic."
Gaz just looked at Zim. "It doesn't have to be totally authentic. I'm not infiltrating Irk or anything. So compromise a little."
Zim glared at her in turn. "There is already compromise. I'm letting you keep your nose and ears! It's not like I'm modifying your DNA to be Irken...although..."
"Compromise more, Zim," Gaz advised forcefully. "I'm letting you glue antennae to my head and dye my skin Irken green for two whole days."
Zim clicked away on the computer controls. "Fine," he grumbled. "You may also keep your hair."
"Thank-you," Gaz replied sarcastically. The disguises shown before her suddenly had hair very much like her own. Zim had taken a picture of her and fed it into the program, which had now superimposed features on it. Styles of clothing and pairs of antenna cycled by. "I'm only doing this for you, Zim, so you don't have to wear one at all! Besides it's not like your disguise is all that elaborate anyway. Its just contacts and a wig!"
"You suggested it to annoy the Dib-stink. And ZIM's disguise is AMAZING! It has fooled humans for years!"
Gaz just let it drop. She didn't really want to burst Zim's ego bubble. She didn't want him to be devastated if it eventually collapsed. And deep down she honestly had begun to believe that he deserved better than how his own species had treated him.
"Zim wishes for your disguise to be perfect." Aw, that's sweet of him. "For it reflects the work of ZIM!" Okay, maybe not.
Yeah. Way, way, way deep down she believed he deserved better. WAY down there.
Gaz finally selected a set of antennae that had a little curl to them, yet not screaming feminine. That just wasn't her. Besides, single girl gamers tended to be hunted to extinction. She didn't want to have to exterminate several someones who didn't know better than to just leave her alone. That resulted in disqualification.
Then again I do have Zim around to help clean up... No, we've worked too hard for this. Better not chance it.
She'd just have Zim or her brass knuckles encourage others to leave her be if necessary. The implication of impending doom was such an amazing motivator.
Zim gave out an exaggerated sigh of relief as she finally chose her antennae. Gaz smacked him lightly upside the back of his head. "What was that for?" he complained.
"You're the one making such a big fuss about getting this perfect. So stop grimacing over how long this is taking."
"Then stop being so picky," Zim fired right back.
"Fine. Let's go with powered body armor."
Zim flicked through the list. "I don't see that one here."
"Exactly. You forgot all the cool ones. Bounty Hunter, Powered Infantry, Intrepid Cruiser Captain…" Gaz expressed with more sarcasm.
Zim reached over and smacked her lightly upside the back of her head. "Did you just…" Gaz stammered as she stared at Zim.
The alien took off running. Gaz chased him around the base for nearly five minutes. He was fast, nimble, and his spider limbs let him climb along the ceiling. She was just plain determined. Then she saw his face as he made a sharp turn. Zim was smiling just a little. That made her notice she was feeling something on her face. The beginnings of a smile of her own.
When did bickering turn into egging each other on? she thought to herself, realizing it had turned into an almost game between them. Gaz couldn't remember when it had first started.
Zim on the other hand was just enjoying being able to set Gaz up like that at the last minute. It was not an easy thing to accomplish as she was very astute for a human. It was so worth being chased around his own base as if he were a helpless worm-baby. He halted only after Gaz stopped trying to run him down and was breathing heavily. She chuckled.
"Okay Zim, let's just go with the standard Invader clothes and call it even."
"Victory for ZIM!" he crowed.
Gaz turned to head for the elevator. "Gir!" she called. The robot, still in his dog disguise, lifted his head up from sleeping under the computer station they had been working at. "Zim had taco's hidden under his shirt!"
"TACOOO'S!" Gir plowed into a horrified Zim, trying to dig his hyperactive way under Zim's shirt.
The girl walked into the elevator without a second thought. While Zim wouldn't come to any actual lasting harm, it would take at least an hour or two before Gir realized there were no tacos. Then Zim would have to go out and buy some for the robot before the begging and singing would stop. Zim really hated the taco song. Then there would be the spraying flecks of meat bits along with other assorted food debris.
As she left, Gaz put her hand to her pocket and realized she had forgotten to bring her transponder collar again. She had walked off with it one night and kept forgetting to return it. She'd have do better about remembering. While the base computer now recognized her, the Voot cruiser on Saturday's flight would not. It was an entirely separate security system.
She put it out of her mind when she thought about what the alien was going through down below. Zim may be her friend, but that didn't mean he could have the last word. After all, Gaz was still Gaz. She smiled at this thought as she left the base.
Zim on the other hand was thinking something else. Ha! It was still worth it.
It was now Friday night and Dib and Gaz were once again sitting in the Membrane living room watching TV. They had not done this for nearly two weeks. Gaz was, as usual, playing on her GameSlave 4. She was running one of her classics, Vampire Piggy Slayer for old times sake as she wanted to be fresh for CWZ tomorrow morning. The GameSlave beeped, indicating an incoming message so she paused and opened the waiting text.
Zim: Are your preparations complete, Gaz-partner?
Gaz switched to the on-screen keyboard and began tapping buttons. Gaz: Yes. Breakfast and dinner for both days are in the freezer. Will buy lunch at the convention. My old GS3 is packed in my bag. How about you?
Zim: A suitable supply of snacks and GS3 are stowed in the back of the Voot cruiser. Modifications are also complete. Did I mention we're bringing Gir?
Gaz: NO! Just no, Zim.
Zim: Do you really expect me to leave him here unsupervised? He might burn down the house to roast marshmallows. Or someone else's. It's not like Gir will be hanging around with us. I'm sure he'll find plenty of dance parties to attend while we are busy.
Gaz: Parties?
Zim: Yes. It seems he gets invited to something called a rave twice a week.
Gaz didn't want to know how or why a "dog" could be invited to a rave without anyone noticing anything out of the ordinary. Gaz: Fine. Just make sure he doesn't cause us any trouble. Or hangs around us.
Zim: Is there anything you are forgetting? If not we can apply your disguise now.
Gaz did feel like she was forgetting something. There was a feint itch in the back of her mind, but she couldn't come up with anything. Gaz: Can't think of anything. Thought we'd do the costume in the morning.
Zim: Foolishness! We must be ready to go first thing in the morning. Suppose the machine requires adjustment or does not respond immediately? The convention parking lot opens at 8:30am and our flight time will be thirty minutes. Also we must be early enough to avoid crowds seeing the cruiser landing.
Gaz: All right, fine. I'll be over there in a few minutes. See you then.
She powered down the GameSlave and turned to her brother seated next to her. "I have to stop over at Zim's to pick up my costume. I'll be right back."
"Okay, Gaz. Hurry back. It's already kind of late," Dib replied.
With Zim busy with Gaz, he was almost relaxed in a sort of stay-at-home vacation from the alien. That didn't mean he didn't worry at all. But Zim had been behaving himself for two whole weeks, a new all-time record and Dib had to admit to himself that he could do with a little time away from that stress. Besides, he was now starting to accept that his baby sister Gaz could and would do more to Zim if he stepped out of line than he ever could. But it wasn't easy. Dib was her big brother after all.
Gaz stepped with Zim out of the elevator and into the small room with the disguise machine. It was just split halves of a pod held up to the ceiling by two robotic arms. Zim gave her instructions.
"The machine is already set up. All you will have to do is push this button," he said indicating the so-big-you'd-have-to-be-blind-to-miss-it start button. "Then stand here in this circle marked on the floor. Your uniform is on the rack next to the machine. Once you are finished push that button to open the door. I will be waiting outside." Zim turned to leave.
"Wait a minute. Where are you going?" Gaz asked. She wasn't exactly familiar with the device.
"Out into the corridor. I don't think you want me in here," was his response.
"And why not?" she asked.
Zim looked really nervous and looked down at the floor scratching the back of his head. "Umm. The machine is going to dye your skin." Gaz just looked at him blankly. "All your skin."
"Right." It was now Gaz's turn to be nervous, her face blushing. Now she understood. "Then get out. Now."
Zim made his way out the room. "By the way, it may sting. Computer, engage privacy mode, this room! Do not cancel until Gaz-partner opens this door." With that the doors closed behind him and Gaz was alone in the room.
"Computer, you there?" she called out. Gaz just wanted to be sure. Only silence answered. "What did he mean by sting?" she muttered to herself.
Sighing, Gaz walked over to the clothing rack where her new costume hung and placed her boots next to it and draped her clothes over the top. She tip-toed on her bare feet over to the big button on the large machine and pushed it. Gaz then took a deep breath and placed herself over the indicated position marked on the floor.
The two halves of the disguise pod came down, encasing her within. A white light seemed to shine from everywhere around her. This may sting? Gaz nearly yelled mentally to herself as she gritted her teeth. She stung everywhere. Understatement of the week! Zim will pay.
However this only lasted five seconds, and Gaz only had time to finish the thoughts before the pod split back open and was lifted up into it's standby position. Gaz shook herself free of the brief memory of the sensation she had just experienced and blinked heavily over the new contact lenses. The now completely green skinned girl put on her new outfit with the accompanying black gloves and small uniform boots, along with putting her precious skull necklace back into its proper place around her neck. It was very much like Zim's everyday outfit, but without a PAK and wearing the necklace.
Well, it certainly felt different than what she was used to. At least Zim had remembered to include some pockets in the pants. Gaz rubbed her green hand through her hair and abruptly stopped when she felt something else up there. She had completely forgotten about the antennae. The girl gave a careful tug. Ow! Yep, they were rooted to her scalp all right.
Gaz walked over to the door carrying her everyday black dress, striped tights and steel-toed boots. She pressed the button for the release mechanism. Zim was standing by the door waiting, and he turned toward the now green girl in the Irken outfit.
"Invader Gaz!" he breathed, his body stiffening in an "at attention" pose.
It was a purely automatic reflex, seeing a close-to-Irken form in an Invader uniform that was slightly taller than he was. At least Zim didn't salute the Gaz-partner, the alien rationalized to himself. That was easy enough to understand given all the military indoctrination that had been drilled into him during his Invader training. At least that's what he told himself.
Zim slowly examined Gaz starting from her feet all the way up to her very realistically quivering antennae. Another thought occurred to Zim. Had Gaz been Irken she could have actually been, not just a real invader, but one of the greats. Perhaps a squadron commander or a even full general. There was no doubt in Zim's mind about that. It was not a comfortable thought for the alien programmed to be xenophobic and to see all other lifeforms as inferior.
Zim nearly stuttered as he attempted to recover from the sight. "Gaz-partner, you look...look..."
"What?" Gaz almost glared, trying to check herself for what may have gone wrong. With Zim around it was understandably a safe bet.
"You look...amazing," Zim sputtered. Now he'd really done it. The Invader sent to conquer Earth had just openly acknowledged a human female as not inferior. Very, very, very not inferior. What was worse was that he actually meant it. In fact Zim had to catch himself before saying something really embarrassing.
He had almost called her beautiful. Her now fully amber eyes, human ears, nose, and the antennae sticking out of her trademark purple hair did not make her hideous. No, not at all. Zim had eventually gotten somewhat used to the human features, not that he found them pleasant by any means, but this combination was more like exotic. Zim brutally pushed these thoughts away and composed himself. It wasn't that Gaz's features had changed all that much. Just contact lenses, dyed green skin with some antennae stuck to her scalp and given an Irken uniform. Other than that she still looked mostly human.
But it definitely was enough to finally crack something in Zim's xenophobicaly blinded perception. In fact it had been subtly changing over many years without his awareness. When he first arrived on Earth, Gaz had been just another stink-human worm-baby. A dirt-being. Then it gravitated to just stink-human. Then Dib-sister, human, beast, agent of doom, and finally partner. The one person he knew better than any other being in the universe.
Zim realized he truly respected this now undeniably remarkable human and had in some form or another for many years. For when he looked at Gaz, he no longer saw a dirt-being, doom-beast, stink-human, or even a human. Because now when he looked at Gaz, he saw Gaz herself.
Gaz of course knew none of these extremely uncomfortable things going on in Zim's brain. But being called amazing did make her blush. After all, she had never really done anything with makeup before, or was ever too concerned about her everyday appearance beyond the dark intimidation factor she expertly wore. She hadn't wanted attention, she had wanted a shield of dread.
"Thank you, Zim," she said in return. In the back of her mind Gaz realized it was in fact pleasing to recieve such a complement from Zim. Especially since a compliment for anyone or anything other than himself was incredibly rare, and usually through gritted teeth. But Zim had actually and truthfully meant what he had let slip. "I should head home and turn in. We have to get up real early tomorrow. You nervous?"
"Nervous?" Zim's eyes grew in size. "What do I have to be nervous about? Nope, no nerves here."
"Yeah, mine either. But I probably will be when we reach the convention center. Good night, Zim."
With that Gaz returned home.
After she left, Zim wandered through the base to his hammock where he occasionally slept. As he laid himself down he gave one last command for the night.
"Computer, begin Zim's maintenance cycle. Set wake up time for 5:00am."
Two cables snaked out of the wall and plugged into Zim's PAK, and the alien closed his red eyes. Zim had been busy lately and had cut short several cycles these past two weeks. He obviously needed an extra long maintenance period tonight.
Gaz opened her front door slowly. "Hey Dib, I'm back. Try not to freak out, okay?" She waited before opening it all the way.
"Why?" he called over his shoulder from the couch. "What did Zim do this time?" He turned to look at the door.
Gaz flung it open, jumped into the living room a few steps with arms out wide. "Ta-da!" she exclaimed.
It was totally worth it seeing Dib slide off of the couch with giant eyes bulging out of his head. Gaz began laughing softly to herself.
"Ho crap!" was Dib's only response. He was still staring.
She turned to look at herself in a mirror. There were no mirrors at Zim's base. So it was almost a shock to finally see her new image. Her green skin and solid amber eyes. Especially those antennae. They were quivering. Dib came up to stand next to her.
She chuckled lightly. "Wow, Zim did a great job. Never thought I'd admit that." Her brother was still staring.
"Relax, Dib. I can remove the contacts and the dye will wash out in a couple of days." Gaz turned to her brother in the mirror. "You should have seen Zim's expression when he first saw me. He came to attention like I was an officer on an inspection tour. But your reaction was even better!"
She turned and headed upstairs. "Well, good night. Don't let my security bots bite!" Gaz sang the twisted nursery rhyme to her still speechless brother.
Dib just continued to stare with mouth open. When she had mentioned a costume, he certainly hadn't imagined this!