A/N: Once again thanks to my reviewers: MojaveRuler151, Kazehana23, InfiniteReader, Zerg170, FanFicNewb, memmek10k, EduTorresD, Todyo, Xeno Tyrant, Kaylee Or Something, and Pokemon Warrior Mew.
Thanks also to all those who favorite and follow this story. Seeing the notifications that another person did this contributes too!
Todyo: I get what you say about feeling like I rushed them into it. I got that feeling too as I wrote it. Part of this is that with my disability, I don't really comprehend how people connect at this point. As far as I can tell, it's entirely random. Another part is that as much as I love ZAGR, I just don't see it happening the way most people have written it: entirely human. So I decided to do something different: forget about the falling in love phase (its too human) and force the realization in a way that can't be ignored or denied, only accepted. I've always said that if you want to drive a point home, use a sledgehammer. So that's what I've done. The last part is by design, wanting to increase the pace of the story, not giving them time to fall back into their old ways before really coming to terms with all this. A big enough shock can allow a person to make dramatic changes in their perception and life very quickly. A single day can and does change the rest of one's life with a big enough event.
The end of the last chapter was Gaz following Mrs. Alpha's advice, setting a course. They now know they both want to pursue a real relationship, but Zim is still recovering. And let's face it, they don't know how to pursue a romantic one. Hope this explains why I wrote it the way I have. I also had to rewrite Mrs. Alpha's advice to Gaz three times or so before I posted it so it would fit with the end of chapter. (Actually, I wrote the entire chapter out of sequence in almost random order. Go A.D.D.!) But on your constructive criticism I did go back and found I could change a word or two toward the end and corrected an error that I let slip through. (Zim did not have an ear to whisper into.) Hopefully it will make it better. Thanks!
MojaveRuler151: I know many of you can't wait to see Dib's reaction. To be honest, I don't think I do a good Dib. Not really. But I'm sure Gaz will have a way to make it easier for her brother once the initial shock wears off. But I do have an idea of a few scenes. Probably won't be what you expect, but hopefully it will be interesting. First will be public, and Gaz will get mad. And not only at her brother. Well, good or bad, the wait is over.
Almost Pizza was from a Saturday Night Live commercial. It's so evil. Also I make reference to a paperweight on Irk. I figure they could use it for electronic sheeting that functions as paper does. Oh, as for the design of the ship Gaz bought? Yeah, I know it would look too much like an Earth design. But then again, why not? There are a lot of planets out there. I just like the design.
For Irkens who don't already know, there are three phases in our bonding process. They can be subtle, unnoticed, and can take many years or be dramatic and take place very rapidly such as on a battlefield. There is no set pattern, and is different for each bonding Irken. However, each stage is permanent so caution is warranted. NOTE: Each stage is on a personal rather than a professional level.
The first stage is the most difficult to detect and is the most common. It can be seen under the guise of giving deserved yet sincere compliments, tokens of a job well done and other gestures appropriate to the immediate circumstances while maintaining a certain distance. For a human, this might be classified as distant friendship, working comradeship, associates or for some as casual non-serious dating as insane as that sounds to Irken hearing. NOTE: This aspect of the human species is unnecessarily complicated, messy, and causing enormous headaches in the lives of all around them. Humans can enter this phase in minutes where Irkens can take days, months or years. There are exceptions among Irkens however, so contemplate the matter carefully. Also note that just being in the first stage does not mean that it will progress further. Nothing more is implied.
The second stage is far more substantial for an Irken and rare. It involves the concepts of personal partnership, mutual concern on a personal level, and going out of one's way for the other. The first blatant displays of concern for the bondmate's comfort and well being can be seen here, and a protective instinct for them will become amplified. To an Irken with an understanding of what is happening, this is a serious undertaking with intent to pursue a formal union with their future bondmate. The only human equivalent is a declaration of intentions, formal courtship and finally engagement (not the combat kind of engagement, as difficult as that is to imagine) to become a mated pair.
For a human however, this may be anywhere from an amplified version of stage one to something an Irken could be experiencing. Not recognizing which is which to a particular human's thinking is very insulting and they may retaliate. However, they will not tell you even if you ask. Humans seem to think giving out necessary information to prevent misunderstanding is considered rude. Stage two may also take time for an Irken, but may also be triggered by circumstances or personal events. So if an Irken is in stage one, taking on joint ventures in close quarters for lengths of time with the other may instigate entering into stage two.
The third stage is unimaginably rare among Irkens. It is a full and mutual joining. At times it may be difficult for an Irken to comprehend where one ends and the other begins. The human equivalent is something called marriage. Theirs is a legal, social and emotional joining. For an Irken, this stage is triggered or otherwise may happen overnight. A human on the other hand may require decades of marriage to reach what an Irken may achieve in hours. Humans rely on a mostly mental/emotional process that changes their makeup, and that is why it takes them so long. The Irken process involves more instinct in these changes. Emotions are present and important, yes, but are not the catalyst.
Once this stage is entered, deliberate separation from the bondmate for long and extended periods of time is impossible to contemplate, let alone initiate. Under no circumstances should anyone ever attempt to separate two Irken bondmates. Joint assignments will be required from now on. Attempts to force long term separation will be resisted with excessive force. Do not mess with a bondmate! Attempts to actually harm a bondmate will draw a response from the other. A rapid reaction, while possibly life threatening, is in reality the better response you could hope for. If there is not an immediate response, LEAVE THE GALAXY AT ONCE! However, this will not save you, just delay the inevitable. They will not stop until you have been found and remove you from ever being a threat again. In fact, other Irkens may join the hunt. A bonded Irken pair is so rare that deliberately and knowingly trying to harm a bondmate is almost a desecration on an instinctive level. If serious enough, the whole Empire may go on a galactic rampage against a single perpetrator. Understandably, this does not apply to other species who have bonded with an Irken.
The vast majority of humans are not suitable, most completely incompatible, as it should be. But not all humans are the same. My own bondmate suffered from abandonment issues during her childhood phases, and so was better able to adjust to how we Irkens bond. Few humans could have. Humans don't instinctively bond for life like we do. Most would like to, but it takes a lifetime of tremendous work for them. Being incapable of forsaking her, in the most literal sense, was something my bondmate could not have found within her own species. Being accepted as more than a defective plague could not have been found in mine. We couldn't have become the people we are now without each other.
Zim, get upstairs now. Gir has dinner ready. Gaz-blossom! Now I have to try to remember to edit out your interruption before it goes to print! Stupid dictation machine- I don't care, love. There is no way I'm going to guard your dinner from Gir again. Not after he-
Excerpt from "Bonding with Humans" by Governor Zim Membrane - Earth year 2046
Officially banned within the Irken Empire
Meekrob and The Resisty bestsellers.
Current printing: 2.35 billion copies under 'Scandalous Material.'
Gaz awoke the next morning alone in the hammock. There had been no need for Zim to sleep, so he hadn't joined her. Even though they were bonded, married, and had decided that they would pursue a real relationship in a little time, that would still have been too weird for them. On the first night they were in a crisis, and they had held on to each other out of mutual comfort and to help each other just get through the night. Now it was post-crisis, and things were now becoming real to them.
Not that she should really talk about weird. She and Zim were going about their relationship in completely reverse order. And that was ignoring the fact that Zim was an alien. Weird was everyday life for them.
She swung her feet out and hauled herself out of the hammock, taking her second blanket with her. The bad thing about waking up in an underground base was that one had no idea what time it was during morning disorientation. If it was even morning. It felt like morning. Mornings were evil in Gaz's opinion.
"Computer," Gaz called groggily. "What time is it? And where is Gir? I'd like to take a sponge bath before I get dressed."
"Mistress, it is now 8:37am. Gir is with Zim in the living room watching TV. I shall send him down with a pail of warm water for you at once."
Gaz rubbed the sleep from her eyes and went to gather some fresh clothes. "Thank you, Computer. How is Zim holding up?"
"Zim has been quiet, Mistress. He and Gir just watched TV all night long."
"Anything good?" she asked.
"Mistress, do infomercials about saving money with recycled dental floss and the health wonders of all natural mouse milk sound like Zim?" the Computer asked rhetorically.
Gaz didn't say anything as she waited for Gir to bring her pail of water. Then she went to the closet she had taken over as her bathing room. She washed off and changed. Most of the visible green streaks on her skin were gone now. At least what wasn't covered up by her clothes. It would take a shower to get most of the rest. She had only one more set of clothes, and might be able to get away with another morning of washing with just a washcloth. Tomorrow she would have to go home. She thought about it more as she washed her hair in the kitchen sink and brushed her teeth. No, she wouldn't go straight home. She'd head back from school. The question was, what was she going to do with Zim, and how was she going to handle Dib?
It was way too early in the day for such questions.
She entered the living room drying off her hair with a towel. Zim was still sitting on the couch. "Hey, Zim. How are you holding up?" she asked sitting next to him.
The alien was without his disguise. He hadn't worn it since the day of the convention. He looked away from the TV toward her. "Zim is still here, Gaz-pig."
"Excuse me?" she asked darkly.
"You wish to be Zim's love pig. Is this not a suitable title for you?" Zim asked, ignorant of the danger.
Zim is not an idiot. Zim is not an idiot, Gaz thought to herself repeatedly. "Zim, here's a tip from someone who cares for you. If you call any girl a pig, you are asking for a severe beating from said girl. If you call me a pig ever again, you're doomed to spend the rest of eternity trapped in a closet with a horde of tarantulas."
"Uh…" stumbled Zim, his eyes wide. "Gaz-love?"
"Better," she said. "How about we just leave the pet names for now?"
Zim looked a bit dejected. She cut in. "Zim, I told you last night. There is going to be an us, but we have to do this the right way. That means getting you back on your feet." He just nodded. "Don't you think I deserve the best Zim possible?"
"Of course," he immediately responded.
"Then let's take this one step at a time. What have you been doing?"
"Watching TV," came the answer.
"Anything good?" Gaz asked.
"This is what is on."
In other words no. But then the mouse milk should have been a clue to that, Gaz thought. "So why are you watching it if it's that bad?"
"What else is there?" Zim asked in return.
"What about our new mission. You're hobbies and projects?"
Zim gave out a scoffing laugh. "What mission? It is a joke, a ploy just to keep Zim confined. Why bother playing along?"
Gaz listened to what Zim was saying. Previously, his mission had defined his whole life, his entire existence, all he said and did. He now knew the ploy it was. A fake. Now Zim was without direction, and distrustful of the directives he had been given. Gaz remembered the advice Mrs. Alpha had given her. Help Zim to just put one foot in front of the other. Keep active. Go through the motions. She now saw why, because Zim was just hovering in his life, not moving forward.
Gaz turned toward Zim and took both his hands in her own. "Listen, forget the orders from the Tallest. Yes, it's a ploy." She paused. "Zim, do you think it is important to protect your home? How about the homeworld of your bondmate? Her family, which is important to her for some reason?"
Zim looked into her eyes. "Zim," she continued, "don't do it for the Tallest's whims or to earn anything from them. Make it a personal mission for yourself. For me. For all those who are a part of our lives."
The alien nodded. Gaz could see that he was beginning to understand something. It would still take time, but Gaz knew what helped Zim process things at his best. She pulled him up off the couch. "Come on," she said. "Let's start you off with one of your hobbies."
They entered the fabrication bay and lights flicked on. A large armored giant stood before them. Gaz stepped forward with Zim. "Let's say you and me finish this thing up."
"Zim does not wish to."
It wasn't exactly the response Gaz was hoping for. "Why not? Zim, this is your pride and joy," she said, looking up at the armored hull of the Scout Walker sitting in the middle of the bay.
"It was a joke on Zim, to string him along. A parody of a reward for securing for the Tallest growth chemicals," he explained in a broken voice.
Gaz turned around. Zim almost looked like he was going to cry. This machine was probably the only personal possession he had, and it was given to him by the Tallest for their usual cruel reasons. A piece of salvage that no one wanted for an unwanted Irken in disguised exile.
Gaz stepped back to Zim and embraced him, her chin resting on his shoulder. "It's okay, Zim," she said. They remained like that for a few minutes. "Zim? Take a long look at your Walker." She felt his head lift up. "Did the Tallest send it to you in this condition?"
"No," Zim answered flatly. "It was just a rusted chassis. It took a long time and effort to restore it."
"That's right. You did this, and now look at it. It's nearly in mint condition. In fact it's probably the envy of any collector of historic vehicles in the Irken civilization." The human girl pulled back a little so she could look at the alien. "Zim, it's true the Tallest's assignment to protect my world, your Governorship and my Ladyship, is all a ruse to keep you here. But that doesn't mean it can't be real. Like that Walker, you can make this posting the envy of every Irken Taller. We have free rein to proceed as we see fit, with no bosses breathing down our necks or demanding their own approval about how to do things or trying to force their own agenda. Because they've already succeeded in their agenda, to get you out of their hair. Our goals are our own."
"The Tallest don't have hair," Zim pointed out.
"It's a figure of speech, Zim."
Zim looked up at the Scout Walker. It was true the armored machine was in excellent condition now, almost fully functional. But he could now start to see what Gaz was talking about.
"Okay, Gaz-partner. We should be able to finish this by late afternoon."
He went over to a nearby locker in the wall and pulled out a pair of Irken coveralls. He handed one to Gaz. "Here, we will be working with the hydraulic systems as we install the weapon attachments. You will not wish to get your dress soiled."
Zim turned to direct Computer's robotic arms within the bay in hauling heavy boxes containing the various assemblies that made up the projectile gun and missile pod to the Walker's feet while Gaz slipped her coveralls over her dress.
As they worked, he realized he was slowly starting to come out of the shock he had experienced the past few days. Perhaps Gaz was right. But Zim knew he would still struggle. He was a natural destroyer, not a protector. He was offensive, not defensive oriented. It would be a challenge to adapt, learn new ways of thinking. Deliberately defending a world was a lot different than trying to wreck one. However, he did have a model to look at in a way.
As Zim helped Gaz piece together the moving parts of the Irken's antique version of a large caliber Gauss Autocannon, he couldn't help but see within himself as he watched Gaz connect and tighten components. He felt what he had for this human girl within himself. Sort of a self-examination. He was Irken, but knew nothing about how his species bonded. Didn't even know basic terms. Just a few basic symptoms that his Tallest had sent him. It was strange that with all his years on Earth and observing the humans, he knew more about human bonding than he did about his own species.
Not that Zim knew much. All of it was fairly revolting, or at least had been. And such knowledge wasn't critical to his mission so he hadn't paid much attention. But that didn't mean he didn't pick up a few things here and there. So as they worked on the Walker, Zim realized something as truly real since all this started, what being in the second stage of bonding really meant to him. He had been too overloaded before. So Zim made a conscious decision rather than just an instinctive or emotional one, and formally accepted it within himself. And so he borrowed a human term. Whatever the Irken version was, he loved a human. Yes, he loved Gaz Membrane very much. The evidence had been undeniable ever since he had called his Tallest. When she had held him while his view of the universe was shattered and he had held her during her nightmare that night. When he discovered he wanted her to be his love pig and not just in an official bonding.
Naturally it wasn't the same as a human's, not as complicated or requiring their rituals. Not exactly all soft and mushy like some humans could be. But it included variations of caring, protectiveness, wanting to see her do well, an instinct to look after her when she had bad dreams, and other things. Some of these would help him understand what his mission meant; to defend his bondmate's homeworld. It would probably always be an alien concept for Zim, but it would help him understand.
"You've told Zim that you have already begun making preparations," Zim inquired.
"Yeah. Mostly having Computer buy provisions you need and set up a place to store them. Just in case we get cut off of Irken supply lines. Computer and I had to buy an old ship to haul them though," Gaz replied as she tightened a connector with some sort of small Irken wrench.
"You bought a ship? A transport?" Zim asked, surprised.
"Yeah," Gaz confirmed. "But not exactly a transport. A salvaged escort carrier. Really old and obsolete, but intact. He's trying to find a shuttle crew for it once it's ready to depart."
"Computer," Zim called, pulling his Pad out of his PAK. "Show me this ship." An outline and schematics appeared on the Pad's display. "You have done well, Gaz-partner. It is a good choice for the task. Being technologically obsolete will not alarm any Irken. You know how we can be about our technology."
She nodded. Zim had been going on and on about his superior Irken tech and how it couldn't belong to anyone else for more years than she wanted to recall.
"The minor modifications to the main gravity distortion manifolds will be complete in about four days. What have you named it?" Zim asked.
"I didn't. This was all spur of the moment stuff. We were both… you know." Gaz looked up from her work and at Zim. He was starting to sound better. Even that light in his eyes seemed a bit brighter now. Not like before, but a noticeable improvement.
Zim just nodded. He did indeed know. Neither of them could ever forget. "Then I would make a suggestion." He tapped at the Pad for a moment and then showed her.
She smiled. Perhaps for the first time since the CWZ convention was concluded. "Thank you, Zim. But you do realize that the class designation you gave it is from Earth, right?"
"It seemed fitting," Zim said. "It isn't an Irken vessel after all. Computer, go ahead and send in the change. Have the yard workers complete it right away."
They returned to their work. "Zim," Gaz called to get his attention once more. "You are sounding better. Do you think you are up to going back to skool tomorrow? I don't think we can miss more days without someone checking in on it, and I'm running out of clean laundry. I'll have to get back home, and I want you to come with me. Computer can baby-sit Gir for one night, can't he?"
The Irken was loading packages into his delivery ship when the announcement came. "Logistic specialist Bad, report to the front office. Specialist Bad to the front office."
Beed sighed as he closed the back of the ship and trudged his way to the front office. Why couldn't anyone taller than me remember my name? he asked himself for what seemed to be the billionth time in his life. He entered the office and saw his co-worker Lim standing in the room.
"So they called you in too?" she asked.
"Yes. Did you get an explanation?" Beed asked in return.
Lim just shrugged her shoulders. They waited a few minutes before the slightly taller logistical overseer came out.
"Bad! Lame! What have you two been doing? I have instructions to suspend you both immediately! Now I have to find two new replacements in ten minutes. You both are to report to Investigations at once. Now get out of here!" With that the overseer disappeared back into his office to choke down more doughnuts.
Beed and Lim looked at each other as they left the logistics complex and took a ground car to the Investigations building. They didn't say anything for a few minutes. "Did you do anything?" Lim asked.
"I don't think so. You?"
She just shook her head. "You don't think it was about the fight yesterday? Was it?"
Beed didn't respond. It wasn't looking good.
They eventually reached the building and entered. Twenty-eight familiar smallests were sitting along one wall while five Irken guards wearing many bruises, bandages and sporting crutches with arms in slings were on the other side of the room. Beed and Lim took their seats. It was about the fight, and it definitely wasn't looking good.
An Irken Investigator walked into the corridor. "Okay, who is responsible for all this?" Every finger pointed at Beed. "Care to explain what happened?"
Beed took a deep breath. "We were all off-duty. These five guards were slandering not just a Taller, but a Lady of the Empire. We told them we didn't like it. They deliberately provoked us further. So we made them stop."
"We were not insulting a real Taller, puny!" one of the injured guards yelled. "Just a degenerate human!"
The Investigator glared at the guard, then turned to inquire further. He was surprised to see all thirty smallests were standing up and looking very, very angry. Even down right murderous. It didn't take much to imagine lasers shooting out of their eyeballs and incinerating the guards.
"Lady Gaz is an Irken citizen, was appointed co-ruler of her world by the Tallest themselves!" Lim yelled back. She turned to the Investigator "You heard it! They grossly disrespect one who was appointed by the Tallest!"
The Investigator ran his hand over his antennae and blew out a deep breath. Technically both sides are right, although the guards were pushing it. But what could you expect from meat-heads? Guards are not chosen for their intelligence, but standards seemed to be slipping in their case. However things like this are not supposed to occur. But why are these thirty standing up for this human when nearly the whole population isn't?
"You guards keep your noise-holes shut from now on, because if I see any one of you ever again, I will report you to your Taller. Now get out of here!"
The guards fled the hallway. One experience with a horde of angry smallests was enough even for them to learn a lesson. Especially when it looked like they could incinerate a few particular guards with a glance at any moment.
"And you all stay put while I consider what to do with you." This is going to take a lot of work to get to the bottom of this. Work I don't want to do. For some reason they attacked fellow Irkens to defend an alien. PAKs are supposed to prevent that. I'll probably have to send the whole lot to the control brains to sort it out. And with that the Investigator left to escort the guards out into the street.
At least that's what these smallests were hoping for. A street with fast moving vehicles.
Beed sat back down. They were in trouble. He pulled something out of his PAK. It was a set of travel orders. Lady Gaz had instructed him to return to Earth if he had gotten in trouble.
"You have an escape route, Beed," one of the thirty said. "You met her personally. She showed she was willing to look out for you. What about the rest of us?"
Beed examined the document closely for the first time. It was a very basic set of orders. When they were written, Lady Gaz had not known his name, so that part was clear. So was the ship he was supposed to travel on, and the route to take. In fact, the only thing on it was the order, destination, and the authentication to transfer the expense to Governor Zim and Lady Gaz's shared operations account. It was practically a blank check.
Or another way to look at it was that it was an insanely flexible set of orders to proceed as one saw fit. For a smallest, it would be like giving a human child the keys to a candy store.
"You all need to make a choice before he comes back. Do you want to stay or come with me to Earth?"
The Investigator came back after several minutes of deliberation. It would take a week of paperwork for each one to send them to the control brains. But in truth he was very lazy. In fact that was why he was successful at his job. He'd just threaten to report offenders to their Tallers, ship them to the control brains or some other fate, and let them go. The perpetrators, thinking they had barely escaped with their lives and not wanting to take another gamble, would shape up. At least until they entered another jurisdiction. Then it wasn't his problem.
But he couldn't do that this time. Not with a potential PAK issue. The Investigator took a special reader out of his own PAK and scanned each one. Their identities and personnel files were loaded for him to examine.
"You, who is your supervisor?" he asked one.
"I was suspended by vehicle repair Overseer Caf."
"And you?"
"Suspended by food service Supervisor Raj."
"You?"
"My supervisor is a paperweight."
"Excuse me?" the Investigator asked.
"Mechanical design Supervisor Vat keeled over six months ago. He was replaced by a paperweight."
Their files seemed to concur. Even the one with the paperweight. "And who are your Tallers?" Several names were listed. He was continuing his scan during the group interview.
All thirty replied in unison. "Lady Gaz."
His scan detected no inconsistency, deception, or even the slightest flaw in basic PAK function. The scan wasn't exhaustive, but it usually did the job he needed it to do. But the names in their files were not the ones they had all said. Yet there was no discrepancy either. "You there, this says your immediate Taller is Dox."
"I was suspended this morning, and Lady Gaz is my senior Taller."
That only made partial sense. For some reason, they were unable to identify this Lady Gaz as alien. But a non-Irken citizen was unheard of too. Leave it to the Tallest to open up a potential PAK issue like this. He seemed to have no choice other than send the whole lot to the control brains. They'd all probably be deactivated, which meant at least six months of paperwork for him. He really didn't want to work this hard. His scanner chirped and he looked at the display. A red numerical code was flashing. The Investigator remained very still.
It wasn't a file or details of facts. Just a code of six flashing numbers. He wasn't a PAK technician, but his job required him to have some understanding. Thousands of little bits were encoded in each PAK. A lot of things that were never used. It simplified uploading time to just activate switches. But this one made him nervous.
"Investigator," Beed spoke up. "We have travel orders. I have been given verbal orders to use them and return if trouble arises from Lady Gaz herself."
"I see," the Investigator said, taking the travel orders. They were vague, but authentic. He returned them. "Please recite what orders those were."
"I was to deliver a package to the Massive. Give it to one of the crew to relay it to the Tallest and undock. Return to my job. If I got into trouble, to use the travel orders she gave me to return to her. She said she would find something for me to do," Beed recited.
"And why did she think you would get in trouble?" The Investigator asked.
"Because I'm a smallest, and the package was broken when she gave it to me to deliver. It would be seen as my fault for breaking a package meant for the Tallest. I could lose my job or worse."
A discreet inquiry was sent over the scanner in the Investigator's hand. Indeed there was a delivery registered of one severely broken Black Hole Projector with a personal note. There was no follow-up by the Tallest. So this checked out. He didn't blame anyone for being worried about trouble a broken delivery to the Tallest could have caused.
"So she was looking out for you. Why? You are just a smallest."
"I think that was the point she was making to me. Lady Gaz does not care about how tall anyone is."
That was just about impossible to imagine. "Were all of you there?" He asked.
The rest of the smallests shook their heads. The one called Lim spoke up. "None of us believed him," she said pointing to Beed. "So he showed us his memory of his encounter with Lady Gaz."
"I see. Did Governor Zim and Lady Gaz have any house staff with them? Servants, perhaps?"
"None at all. Lady Gaz herself received the packages I was sent to deliver to her. She also was herself preparing the package I was to deliver to the Tallest. They only have a SIR unit with them."
"Very well. Please wait here while I take all this into consideration." With that the Investigator retreated back into his office.
He sat down and examined the security footage from the bar fight on a wall display. Yes, their stories checked out perfectly with both the video and audio. He saw them push their seats back and stand up to the off-duty guards. They 'requested' that the guards stop speaking in such a way about the human. He had seen such before when some had crossed the line on a sugar high and spoken abusively against an Irken Taller behind their back. All Tallers deserved respect as their height demanded, but some deserved it more than others. This Lady Gaz must have made quite an impression on these smallests.
Then he saw and heard one of the guards reply by spewing out a particularly vulgar string of nasty phrases. Even for a guard, this was excessive. Then he saw it. The change. The guard spewing out verbal garbage was a trigger, and he watched as thirty smallests responded, and defended a Lady of the Empire from a perceived attack.
The Investigator looked at the scanner in his hand and flipped back a few screens. The six red numbers flashing on the display. This was a classified encoding activated within their PAKs and he didn't have the clearance to access it. But that didn't mean he didn't recognize it. Four times in his career he had seen it before, and all were from a Governor or the Tallest's personal units. Those thirty hadn't defended a Lady of the Empire. They had defended their Lady.
Somehow they had taken in watching those memories, the circumstances surrounding a human becoming an Irken citizen, Governor Zim and Lady Gaz having no staff, that Lady Gaz had stated that she had a place for them, and the verbal assault by the guard. The thirty organic brains had fed it all into their PAKs which had processed an unusual combination of data it was never supposed to receive and responded in electronic calculation required for the conditions. A ruling and bonded pair having no staff under a perceived attack? The smallests PAKs corrected that oversight. It was supposed to act as a failsafe measure to ensure an Irken Governor was protected, but it seemed to have failed in this case. The problem was that they had identified with the human. The odds of something like this happening must have been a quadrillion to one.
The Investigator pondered for a moment. There were rumors about Earth. That it was, like a black hole, a place where the laws of reason and sanity did not apply. That any Irken going there was touched by it forever. Assuming their life survived Zim. He was almost an urban legend by himself, able to ruin lives and destroy careers nine sectors away. The Investigator had never believed the rumors, but he had never run into anything as crazy as this before either. And the Irken that this case was centered around had only made a brief delivery to the planet.
He looked at the flashing red numbers on his scanner's display again. He should send all thirty smallests to the control brains at once. They would end up deactivated for sure. There was just one problem with that. The attempt may not be survivable.
He was one Irken, a lazy Investigator of minor misbehaviors. However insanely it had come to be, outside his office door were thirty members of a Governors' Own. An entire squadron of Lady Gaz's personal guard. Within their PAKs, a license to serve and defend their recognized Lady by whatever means necessary had been activated. Only she could control them. He was amazed the injured guards of the bar fight had been allowed to live. Not with what they had been saying. And most of the Irken population wasn't being too polite either.
The Investigator made a few urgent calls, one was to a moving company and another to the spaceport. He got up and carefully opened the door. These were smallests. None were programmed, trained nor equipped to be soldiers, fighters, guards or any such thing. They were the ones who did the sensitive sort of dirty work that kept their civilization going while everyone else continued with the more important task of trying to conquer the galaxy. Yet they had ripped into five Irken guards like a tsunami without hesitation or suffering injury. There was no way to predict anything. So the Investigator did what any Investigator would have done in his situation. Sweep it under the rug.
"Logistics Specialist Beed?" he called out. The Irken stood up. "I'm going to let you all go. You are all to follow your orders and proceed immediately to the spaceport where you will be provided transportation. Your belongings are being boxed up as we speak and will be loaded for you. I will notify Governor Zim when I am able about the situation. While you are in local Irken space, you are the direct responsibility of Lady Gaz. Your actions reflect on herself. Do you understand?"
Clearly the answer was no, but that was also obviously the wrong answer.
As the thirty smallests filed out of the building, the Investigator began the process of finding out how to contact the urban legend known as Zim. Hopefully Irk was far enough away to remain safe.
After some time, the call connected on his wall monitor, and a rather unpleasant face covered in smudges with purple hair appeared. She was not Irken, and the background behind her showed some sort of armored upper limb inside an Irken base. "What do you want? Have another poke at Zim? I don't think so. You people have done enough. I've already warned your Tallest about any attempt, so if you think-"
The Investigator interrupted, but his thoughts were running first. This had to be Lady Gaz, and she was not happy, protective and clearly adversarial. She had just stated that she had warned the Tallest about actions concerning Zim. He couldn't help but think about that reference he had looked up about the package Beed had delivered. A broken black hole projector. She had not just threatened but demonstrated that she could have destroyed the Massive with the Tallest aboard at any time she chose without batting an eye, yet showed concern over a smallest Irken. That was impressive indeed. It seemed this human needed a personal guard, not to protect her, but to protect the rest of the universe from her.
"Lady Gaz I presume? I'm just an Investigator here on Irk. There has been some trouble here with someone you met recently. A certain Specialist Beed? He delivered a package for you. I wish to speak to Governor Zim. It concerns an issue that needs to be discussed."
"Zim is here with me, but if it concerns my package you can discuss the matter with me," the girl on the screen growled.
"This does not concern any package. The deliverer and a few dozen of his associates severely injured several off-duty guards who were… saying very unpleasant things about you. I was put in charge of the case. No charges will be filed, but there has been a development with their PAKs. Are you sure I can't speak to Governor Zim?"
"He can hear you, but he's just now starting to pull out of what you people did to him. So you can deal with me."
He had never met a bondmate before. It was unnerving. The Investigator was starting to get the uneasy feeling that this Lady Gaz could easily have been one of a Governor's Own herself. "Yes, I see. Well, several smallests have had a section of code activated in their PAKs. It is making them rather easily provoked when they perceive an attack against you, Lady Gaz."
"Against me? Not against Zim? But I'm human," the girl stammered.
"Yes, their PAKs are asserting themselves as a Governor's Own. But they identify with you, Lady Gaz."
Off the screen came a sudden burst of laughter, followed by a green body falling from up high, bouncing off of the large metal arm, and falling past the bottom of the screen with a crash and sounds of scattering containers. The laughter continued.
"What's a Governor's Own?" Lady Gaz asked. "And how many are affected?"
"They are your own personal guard, Lady Gaz. Made up of thirty Irken smallests with a strong fidelity toward you," the Investigator informed her. "We are sending them away before others are affected as well."
The laughter in the background turned into a howl with sporadic intakes of uncontrolled breath.
"Shut up, Zim! This is NOT funny!" Lady Gaz threw over her shoulder. The laughter did not stop. "When are they departing?" she asked.
"They should be leaving the spaceport as soon we can get them out of here. Have a good day." And with that the Investigator signed off. The problem was in someone else's lap now. Case closed.
Beed walked with Lim and the other smallests across the spaceport tarmac. As they had entered the expanse, they had been met with a military guide who had saluted them, despite their shortness, and guided them to this area. Luggage carts were being loaded onto the ships here.
They had been expecting some of the slowest and most rundown shuttles to fly them up to some low priority transport in orbit. Not several dozen Spittle Runners. Irken interceptor craft that bore no markings. They had replaced the Voot Cruiser over two centuries ago, and themselves had been replaced by the latest generation of small three Irken crew space superiority combat ships. The Spittle Runners were now being phased out, but still were considered frontline units.
"Excuse me," Lim spoke up to the guide. "Are we in the right place?"
The guide shot at her a look that stated such a question was dumb to think up, let alone ask. "This area is reserved for detached special units. Your squadron has been assigned to these ships. You will not discuss anything with anyone outside your group. Once loaded, you will depart and carry out your travel orders. Is that clear?" The guide didn't wait, but indicated which ship had been loaded with who's belongings. Then he walked off.
"We are in so much trouble," one of them said.
"What is going on?" another asked.
"I don't know," Beed admitted. "But it looks like they want us out of here really bad. Let's not disappoint them."
Thirty unmarked Spittle Runners were next in line for the Hypergate. It was essentially a subspace slingshot orbiting Irk. A recent invention, it could fling individual spacecraft not equipped with a wormhole drive to their destination within minutes. It was of course a one way trip as it was the only Hypergate in existence.
"Reject Squadron, you will proceed to the initial beacon. Transmit your travel orders and deposit fifty thousand monies for a non-military squadron jump. I haven't got all day." The controller instructed over the squadron's communication network.
Blood drained from Beed's face. Fifty thousand monies? he thought. A smallest courier pilot like himself earned only four monies per year, and that was a good wage for a smallest. Lady Gaz will skin me alive. But he didn't know what else to do. Navigation coordinates to allow an Irken ship to set a course for Earth was not exactly easy to find on Irk, and remembering galactic coordinates was impossible even with a PAK. Neither were they provided with a way to contact the planet. Why would a bunch of undesirable smallests suspended from their jobs ever need to know such things? But then they shouldn't have been given Spittle Runners either. Nothing was making sense anymore.
So Beed fed his travel orders into a slot in his instrument panel and waited. He did not have to wait long.
"Reject Squadron," the controller's voice came over the speakers again. "The funds transfer you have requested has been denied." Beed's squeedlyspooch felt like it had dropped into his feet. It had been too good to be true. "You will stand by. You will be contacted shortly."
If they were fortunate, he'd just be dumped onto the planet Dirt or Rock. If not, they could all be dumped onto the planet of Broken Glass. Several minutes went by. His squadron network was pinging with requests from the others as they too had been listening in. He didn't answer them. More minutes went by. Then the controller came back on the line.
"Uh, um, my apologies. We did not realize you were a special unit. Your Taller has only just now been notified of the situation and, um, expressly pointed out how, uh, displeased she is that we have insulted her by giving your unit an, um, incorrect designation. She has corrected this, and your squadron is now designated as the Black Sheep. Please follow course two-nine-eight mark zero-zero-four to the third moon. Please do not open fire on my poor control pod. I didn't mean disrespect, honest. Your Taller is waiting with instructions."
Beed turned his Spittle Runner into the correct heading and led the group away from the Hypergate on the new course. An image of Lady Gaz came up on a side display. Her purple hair was a bit of a mess, and there were all manner of smudges on her face.
"Lady Gaz!" Beed exclaimed. "What has happed to you? Are you hurt?"
"What? No, Zim and I have been working on some equipment. We're just dirty. How are you doing? I guess you found yourself some trouble."
"We don't understand what is happening. Nothing makes sense right now." A Taller working? Getting dirty? The whole universe has turned upside down. "If we had known the Hypergate cost was so outrageous we wouldn't have tried. Honest!" Beed hoped to be stranded on Rock rather than on Broken Glass.
"Beed, calm down. We would have paid the fee. It would have hurt, but we would have paid it. I didn't mean to your impact your lives so severely. It wasn't supposed to happen, but a lot of unintended consequences are manifesting themselves. Okay? None of you did anything wrong. Beed, are all of you listening right now?"
Beed nodded. The display phased into static and cleared as a scrambler algorithm activated and the Spittle Runners found the decryption process that had been implanted within the signal at the beginning of the transmission.
"Okay, guys. Listen carefully. I have been told that there is a PAK issue. Your PAKs are fine, they are not defective. Understand? But they have been affected, amplifying what you feel about defending me from attack, even from other Irkens. And I'm an alien species. It's not supposed to happen. So rather than deal with it, you all have been transferred to me as my personal guard," the image of Lady Gaz informed them.
Beed sat still. They had been so close to a visit to the control brains. He shivered. But on the other hand, talk about a promotion! What Invaders were to Irken soldiers was what a Governor's Own unit was to Irken security. And they were just smallests! The image before him continued speaking.
"Zim informs me that your PAKs identify with me now, but understand that Zim is included in that. It applies to both of us as bondmates. Understood?"
Beed only nodded.
Lady Gaz continued once more. "Now you are on a course to a ship I've acquired. It is not Irken, so you will think it's obsolete and may be uncomfortable. We haven't found a crew to bring it here yet, so you will have to fill in. Computer will send you the needed codes for docking and other functions. Beed, this is a logistical mission, hauling supplies we need. So can you help set things up over there? Computer will also send specifications, delivery times, whatever you need. You all will have to work together without a Taller telling you how to do your job or what solution to problems you should use. You're there, I'm not. So I'm depending on you all to see to this. Once you are ready, you may take the ship through the Hypergate if it is feasible, at your discretion. Just inform us when you are ready."
"One more thing," she added. "If Irk wants whatever ships you are flying in now returned, let them be collected. I know Irkens are touchy about letting their technology fall into the hands of other species, and I am obviously not Irken. Don't give anyone a hard time about it, but you are to keep your own belongings. Those are off limits, and they have no right to confiscate them. For the time being you all are going to have to stand taller than you actually are. Understood?"
Beed nodded again. Lady Gaz signed off.
"Computer, update the projections of needed supplies. Is it affordable?"
"Only the quantities for biological requirements have been impacted. These are low cost basic items. Very few mechanical or technical components are necessary to augment final inventory. This is much more affordable than the fifty thousand monies Hypergate fee would have been."
"Computer, if things keep going like this we're going to get quarantined. And we haven't even considered developing any type of system defense yet. Please look into how to develop our available resources with these things in mind," Gaz asked of the computer.
"Yes, Mistress. This will take quite some time. A few days perhaps."
Gaz had to take a seat on an empty box. "Zim," she called.
The alien took a seat next to her. Gaz turned to him. "Zim, I just was trying to be nice and show concern to a delivery guy. To try not be a doomer. Okay, maybe annoy some higher ups on Irk a little. But I ended up ruining thirty lives. They fared worse than if I had been deliberately dooming one person. I almost got thirty of them deactivated because I was trying to be nice. I feel like I am barely able to help you rebuild. What am I going to do with thirty?"
Zim pulled Gaz close. She was struggling at times too. Zim could see that she was trying. But Gaz really was starting to blossom since their world had been turned upside down.
"Gaz-blossom, you did not destroy anything. You are helping Zim's life to be better than it could ever have been. All these Irkens were in dead-end jobs with no hope for advancement in society. To be stepped on always. They do not know it yet, but now they have something. It will be strange, but you have given them a mission to pursue. You have shown that you care for your people, and they are your people now. However it happened, even though you are human they will follow you not because you are taller than them, but because you are worthy of it. You gave them what you needed them to accomplish, and released them to do so without second guessing. You made a way for them when they needed it. You stepped up for them when they were being stepped on. They will do the same for you."
The alien continued. "Zim is not cut out to be a ruler. He knows this now. He is a destroyer, a combatant. You, however, have always shown that you can be a ruler. In a way you have ruled our skool for many years. All know better than to displease you, yet also to leave you alone. But now you are showing what kind of ruler you one day can become."
"I don't want to rule my planet," Gaz replied in a small voice.
"Zim has news for you, Gaz-blossom. We've already been made rulers by the Tallest. But that doesn't mean we are hands-on or involved like you are imagining. Just the opposite in fact. We are not supposed to interfere. To be visible. You've just been knocked off balance learning that you have your own personal guard. You have not expected this responsibility, having other's lives in your hands, but you are handling it superbly."
Gaz tucked her head into Zim's neck and wrapped an arm around him. "I guess we both have a lot to learn. Thanks, Zim."
They remained like that for awhile. Gaz pulled her head away to look at Zim. "Gaz-blossom?" she inquired.
"Yes," was Zim's reply.
Gaz tucked her head back into Zim's comforting embrace. "I think I can live with blossom." The two sat there for several more minutes before getting back to work.
Ten minutes later the squadron of slightly outdated Spittle Runners surrounded a ship orbiting the specified moon inside a web of shipyard gantries. The nearby small craft were dwarfed by the larger vessel.
"Beed," Lim called over the communications net, "do you see this?"
Indeed he did. Most governors had personal ships. Fancy shuttles, military yachts, and other ships of that sort. Granted, the vessel was not even close to measuring up to Irken standards, looking very worn and obsolete. But this vessel was much larger than what any other Governor had, over one thousand feet long. Four hundred feet at it's widest near the stern where the engines were located, and three hundred near the front. It's upper and lower armored hull were flat across most of the surface until they angled down sharply at the edges, down to where thick hatches that housed and launched individual small craft, such as Spittle Runners and Voot Cruisers, were housed along the sides.
A superstructure housing control compartments and other ship's stations rose above and below the hull on one side with two sets of three hardened turrets mounting some light energy emitters before and aft of the upper and lower control island. Two dozen point defense turrets were dotted along the angled edges of the hull along with sensor blisters and communications arrays. Straight down the center of the vessel was a hollow shaft for landings or shuttle launches, each end open to space at the moment.
It was a warship. An aging Escort Carrier to be precise.
As a transport, it had no need of an escort. Centuries ago, ships such as these with their space superiority craft had once been designed to be the biggest, most dangerous escorts around, protecting large scale convoys.
Along each side was the customary triangular Irken symbol, but this too was different. Black, the center was a hollow circle, taken up by a strangely shaped representation of a skull. After that was human writing. His PAK translated the glyphs for him. CVE-1 Doomwind.
Someone with a better translation unit than he did made a bit of a dark humored joke at the appearance. "Does anyone know what CVE stands for? Other than combustible, vulnerable, and expendable I hope?"
Beed and the others didn't comment. To Irken eyes it didn't look like much, but something about those lines did make it look menacing. And something this size could be stuffed with a lot of cargo. Lots and lots of cargo. The question in his mind was How can thirty Irkens fly this thing? They might have to hire some extra hands. But if the size of this ship was any indication, Lady Gaz wasn't kidding when she said she had a logistics mission for them.
Beed entered the code that had been transmitted to him, and armored hatches opened along one side of the carrier. "Okay, lets dock and unload our belongings. Someone find where the crew quarters are so we can stow our stuff."
He closed the communications channel and began humming as he backed his ship into one of the sixty bays strung along the sides of the Doomwind. Yesterday he was delivering packages to ungrateful Tallers and being called Bad all the time. Today he was one of a Governor's Own, overseeing his Lady's massive logistics operation and entrusted with her warship. If they managed to keep the Spittle Runners, the carrier even had an small offensive punch to throw around.
Each of those smallests felt like they were ten feet tall.
Wednesday morning Gaz and Zim wearing his disguise, pulled into the parking lot in her Jeep. The back was full of dirty clothes and other things Gaz had over at Zim's. On top of the pile was a few things Zim would need. A few snacks, a bar of cleansing chalk and his hammock.
They stepped out of the vehicle. Zim looked at Gaz, noting the bags under her eyes. She had woken up early, nearly five in the morning, so Zim could use the hammock to get his two hours of PAK maintenance before today. Afterward, he had found she had fallen back asleep sitting on the couch in the living room.
Both felt they could use another day or two to settle first. Or a month. But life wouldn't wait for them. She nodded and pulled her necklace under her customary dress while Zim pulled his own under his shirt. One step at a time. They pulled their books out of the Jeep and headed into the skool just as the first bell rang. Both had a few days of makeup work awaiting for them as well as today's assignments.
Dib sat at his customary spot in the cafeteria alone. Earlier he had watched Zim carefully in the classes they still shared. He was definitely different. Not grandiose, exaggerated, or loud. In fact he seemed to be the opposite of all those things. Even withdrawn. Very strange for Zim.
He slowly chewed his Almost Pizza, but brightened up when he saw his sister for the first time since that Sunday night. In fact he had hardly seen Gaz at all for over two weeks. The truth was he had missed her, and had worried about her condition. Zim was walking next to her. They hadn't gotten anything to eat. She was carrying several textbooks in her arms and Zim was loaded down with make up assignments he had missed during their absence.
The two sat down at Dib's otherwise empty table. But Gaz didn't take her customary seat next to her brother. She had sat down across from him sitting next to Zim. Both looked nervous.
"Hey, Dib. It's been awhile." It wasn't much of a greeting, but at least Gaz was trying a little. She was obviously tired.
"It's good to see you in one piece still. You've looked better though," was Dib's comment.
"Dib, can we not do this right now?" Gaz asked. "It's been a tough time for both of us. I want to talk to my big brother, not the crusader. But I need you to be an investigator too. This is going to be difficult to talk about with you. It's confidential, Dib. A family matter."
Whenever Gaz trotted out the word family like this, she always meant business and was always serious. Dib put his Almost Pizza aside and gave his sister his full attention as best he could. Zim was sitting right in front of him after all.
Gaz took a few deep breaths. "On the last night of the convention, I had what I thought was a slave collar attach itself to me." She continued quickly before Dib could respond. "It wasn't though. On the way back, I freaked and slapped the other one on Zim to force him to remove them." Gaz nodded to Zim.
Together they pulled out their matching necklaces from under their clothes and let them rest around their necks in the open. "Gir had us sign a document and we were too busy shouting at each other to pay attention."
Gaz looked at her fidgeting hands. "Dib, please don't freak out, okay? This is really hard."
Dib was getting anxious. He kept looking back and forth between the two necklaces. He just nodded for Gaz to continue.
"Here are some things for you to examine for your benefit, and it's all confidential. If you try to expose Zim you also expose me, your sister. And this has a lot of personal stuff in it. I've got a scrapbook here. Recordings of what happened, our transmission to the Tallest, and a full record of the day after at Zim's base. I need you to be an investigator, not a crusader, and look at these impartially. Please?"
Dib took the record chips and scrapbook from his sister. For Dib, it was an intelligence bonanza like he had never been able to achieve. And yet Zim, sitting across the table from him, just sat there.
Gaz fingered her necklace. "These can't be removed, Dib. Ever. They're from Judgementia and they are real zealous about this sort of thing. Irkens can be too. The Tallest made me a citizen of their Empire when we tried to get this straightened out."
Dib spoke up. "Gaz, I don't understand. What are those things? What's going on?"
Gaz and Zim looked at each other. Gaz took another deep breath. "It's not entirely what it looks like. At least not yet. Zim and I, well, uh, um…" She stopped talking and pulled what appeared to be an official document sandwiched between two thin sheets of transparent yet stiff material. She hesitantly slid it over so Dib could see.
It was a marriage license from the state of Nevada between Zim and Gaz Membrane.
"We're officially recognized in three different star systems," Gaz quietly told her brother.
Dib did nothing but stare at the document for over two minutes until Gaz pulled it back and it disappeared into a folder. Then he looked at Zim.
"ZIM, YOU ^%&# MARRIED MY SISTER?!" Dib shrieked at the top of his lungs. In the middle of an overcrowded hi-skool cafeteria.
There was a period of unnatural silence. Not even the crickets laying siege against the cockroaches' fortress of meatloaf in the corner made a sound or moved a muscle.
Then the murmuring began. Gaz, terribly embarrassed, just buried her face in her arms on the table as the fragmented but clear mumbling reached her ears.
"Married? The freak and the psycho?"
"I didn't even know they were an item."
"I can't even imagine them being an item."
"Well, the loser has been yelling at the freak to stay away from her for years. No wonder."
"I've seen them slipping notes in each other's lockers. I always thought they were exchanging death threats, but now-"
"I overheard them talking about a trip to Vegas last week."
"They must have eloped over the weekend."
"Why? Nobody gets married while still in hi-skool. Not even the Barbie twins are that dumb."
"You don't suppose-"
"Could she?"
"What other reason could there be? She'd graduate next year anyway, so why couldn't they wait?"
"You mean her and that freak-"
"You mean she's-"
"They're-"
"She's having a-"
Dib was hearing all this too, and was imagining a hundred Zims bursting out of Gaz and hijacking the skool at any moment.
Zim was glaring at Dib very intently. Gaz poked her eyes out from her arms. "Zim? Please go get me a gallon of paste from the janitor's closet and some heavy duty staplers from the office."
Zim stood up and left. He didn't catch on to the worst half of what was being said, but it didn't really matter. He would get two jugs of paste.
Gaz lifted her head up and stared at her brother. "Dib, you have no idea how much a fool you have just made me. Zim and I have barely been able to keep our head above water without falling apart. I'm legally married to my brother's worst enemy. I didn't know if he'd even survive the first night when he collapsed. I've had to manage things for Zim for the past few days. I've been going all out until I have trouble too, and Zim has to pull me back on my feet while I'm trying to help him onto his. I've had to arrange for provisions for him, facilities, transport. I've got thirty Irkens out there who somehow see me as their rightful Taller and assigned as my personal guard. I've already had to call and pull them out of trouble back on Irk and need to figure out what I'm going to do with them. And now thanks to YOU, three-quarters of the student body mistakenly believe I'm pregnant!"
She reached over, grabbed Dib and hauled him bodily across the table. Gaz growled in his face. "We did not need this, DIB! You so owe me until the sun implodes! Do you comprehend? We didn't go looking for this, but he's part of our family now. You never again get to be less than civil toward Zim because he's not an Invader anymore. He's your brother. You have until this afternoon to get used to it because I'm bringing Zim home for tonight."
She roughly let go of her brother. "I don't want to leave him alone until I know he's recovered enough."
Gaz turned her head and saw Zim reenter the cafeteria with two gallons of paste and several industrial staplers. "Now I have some morons to see too." She pointed at the recording chips and scrapbook in her brother's hands. "We want those back. If anything happens to them, you and me are history. If Zim gets so much as a paper cut, you are fertilizer."
Zim came up and stood behind Gaz. She loudly scraped her chair back and it tipped over as she stood up. This did not go unnoticed as she unscrewed the caps off of the jugs of paste and took a set of staplers.
"RUN! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! GAZ IS HAVING A MOOD SWING!"
Dib held on tight to the things she had lent him as he watched Zim and Gaz begin to wallpaper the cafeteria with screaming students. One managed to escape his stapled clothing, but the rest chose not too when he was rounded up and plastered to the ceiling with a cocoon of glue. It would take firefighters and the jaws of life to cut him loose and the janitor would later take three days to scrape the others off the walls with a spatula. He did get paid by the hour. That day would later be known as Black Wednesday.
Dib had watched the two operate as he hunkered in his corner. He saw Zim and Gaz work together. Whatever they were, they functioned as partners in every sense of the word.
The last bell rang and Dib left the building and crossed the parking lot. He looked around before crossing a driveway for the buses, and saw Zim and Gaz sitting in her Jeep. She had her head buried in Zim's shoulder and was crying her eyes out as he tried to offer comfort. For the first time Dib didn't feel protective, insulted, threatened, or any of the usual things. He felt shame.
Gaz had willingly come to him with something difficult to talk to her brother about and he had grossly betrayed her confidence in the worst possible way. Dib had destroyed her reputation in a single outburst. Gaz's reputation was perhaps her most valuable possession and it was ruined now. There was no way to fix this. No way to repair the damage. No way to make it right again. Everyone would believe the rumors for months, probably the rest of the school year and beyond. So Dib did the only thing he could do. He got in his own car and drove home, thinking about how much he did indeed owed his sister until the sun imploded.
Gaz opened the front door to the Membrane house and picked up her suitcases. "Dib? We're home."
Dib was in the living room doing his homework. "Hey, Gaz. Let me help you with your stuff."
"It's okay, we've got it," Gaz said as she and Zim walked into the door.
Zim only had a change of clothes, a few snacks, the cleansing chalk and his hammock. It all was slung under one arm. The rest of his load was Gaz's stuff.
Dib watched as Zim entered the premises, but said nothing. He was uncomfortable with this, but Zim was the one behaving, not himself. And Gaz had made it clear that Dib was to be civil. Of course that didn't mean Dib hadn't already set the security systems for his room and the basement lab on maximum.
"Zim, we can get you set up in my room. Your hammock can hang inside the closet once we pull my clothes out of it," Gaz suggested.
"Uh, Gaz?" Dib spoke up. "I don't think-"
"Zim," she interrupted her brother. "could you excuse us for a minute? Go on upstairs and get set up. First door on the right."
Once Zim was out of sight upstairs, Gaz turned toward her brother. "Dib, I just had to endure a very unpleasant biology lecture and what my 'options' were from the school nurse this afternoon, and fifty classmates asking to feel my belly since then. So I am really not in the mood for your crap right now."
Dib put up his hands. "Gaz, I'm just saying Zim can stay down here in the living room tonight. I just don't think it's appropriate for him to stay in your room-"
Gaz exploded in anger. "Appropriate? After what you just did?" she screamed. "Who do you think you are, Dib? Who are YOU to tell me that it isn't acceptable for my husband to set up his hammock in my room, when I have every right to share with him my bed!"
She continued to glare at her brother who was gaping at her. Then her own eyes grew wide and she raised her hand to cover her mouth as she realized what she just said.
"Gaz, it's okay." Dib was saying. "I know you didn't mean it."
"Dib, you don't understand," Gaz said back to him, stunned. "I did. I meant every word."
There was a very long and uncomfortable pause. Gaz spoke first. "Dib, you can't imagine how difficult this has been for us. We didn't ask for this, we're not ready for it, and we have no idea what we're doing. Not really. There is no precedence for the situation we've found ourselves in. We're both just trying to find our way through this. Dib, just let us be, okay? Zim has been nothing but decent toward me. We've both got a ton of things to do tonight just to catch up, and I'm tired. Please look carefully at what we've given you, okay? You'll see for yourself."
Gaz turned to go upstairs and stopped. She spoke over her shoulder to her brother in a sad voice. "Dib? You believed it for a moment too, didn't you? What they were saying about me?" she asked.
Dib nodded his head and watched his sister head upstairs and into her room. Soon dirty laundry began to be tossed through her open door into the hallway. He collected is homework, the scrapbook and recording chips and headed into the garage. He tried not to think of how often Gaz had used the word 'we' before she went up to her room. But it was more pleasant than feeling how much he had betrayed his own sister rather than stick up for her reputation.
Gaz woke up in the middle of the night, her throat parched. She pulled off her covers and hauled herself out of bed.
"Gaz-blossom?" came from her open closet where Zim was lying in his hammock. "Are you all right? You should not be awake yet."
"Hey, Zim. I'm okay, just thirsty. How are you holding up?" she asked, yawning as she turned on a nearby lamp.
"It is too quiet here. But Zim occupies himself," came the response.
"Thinking? Letting your mind wander?" she guessed.
"Zim's brain is not detachable. It does not separate to roam like some Earth pet," Zim informed her.
Gaz actually giggled. It had been awhile since she found something humorous like that. She went over to Zim's hammock and took his hand in hers. "So if it's too quiet, how have you been occupying yourself just lying there?"
"Zim has been watching his love-pig sleep. It has been a pleasing experience."
If Zim had said that two weeks ago, it would have been creepy and there would have been threats and possible minor injuries. Of course if anyone else had said that at any time, a trip to the emergency room could have been necessary. But now she found it sweet. Besides, Zim had earlier heard what Gaz had called him when she screamed at her brother. No one had said anything further, but there was no use resisting the term any more. Gaz squeezed Zim's hand and smiled.
"Well, your love pig needs to go downstairs for a glass of water. Can I get you anything?" she asked.
"I supposed the Dib-stink's head on a primitive pike is out of the question?"
Gaz sat down on the hammock next to Zim. "Yes. As much as I'd like to, he's still my brother. And yours. You two are going to have to stop feuding. That doesn't mean you don't hate each other. Just be civil about it, okay? I still don't want to get stuck as a referee between you two."
Gaz headed back toward the stairs after quenching her thirst in the kitchen. She noticed a light under the door leading into the garage. Her brother had yet to go to bed. She opened the door and walked inside.
Tak's ship still filled the garage as it had done all these years. It had only been taken out a few times. Dib used it as more of a command center for his paranormal stuff. The cockpit was open and Dib was still seated inside the single-pilot vehicle. He noticed as his sister walked around the hull to view inside the cockpit.
"Hi, Gaz. Shouldn't you be asleep?" Dib asked.
"I was about to ask you the same thing," Gaz replied.
"Yeah, there is a lot of material here to cover, even with the ship's computer scanning and speeding through the areas without movement or sound."
"Listen, Dib. Some of that may be-" she started to say.
"Difficult for me to see? Make me want to rush upstairs and tear up Zim into tiny pieces? Yeah. Had that moment already," Dib said as he looked at the ship's main display. "Like when you crawled into his hammock in your Irken disguise. But I owe you, and you asked me to examine all this like the investigator that I'm supposed to be. That, and you deserved far better than what you've gotten today. It was difficult, but I saw that you were just looking out for him."
"Look, Dib. I know you don't get it. You and Zim have been blood enemies for most of your life," Gaz told her brother.
Dib went on like he hadn't heard her. "I was watching the video waiting for him to make his move, to show it was all a trick, to get up and start performing experiments on you. But he didn't. He didn't move. Then you had that nightmare."
Dib looked up at his sister as she suppressed a shudder at the brief remembrance of the dream where she had found Zim's body. He continued speaking. "I've never heard you utter an inhuman sound like that before, let alone shatter to pieces. But, Gaz, Zim was scared. I'm the world's expert on Invader Zim, and I can tell you for a fact that he's never been scared. Not for a single moment in any of our encounters. Nervous, worried, alarmed, anxious, but never scared. Not like this. The Zim I knew would have only exploited the moment. I couldn't believe my eyes, Gaz. I examined that section nine times. Closely. He was utterly afraid, but for you, Gaz. Not of you. For you. He needed to help you for your sake."
Gaz climbed into the cockpit and sat on the arm of the pilot's seat Dib was in. The display in the control panel before them was showing a flawless night-vision view of Zim's auxiliary lab as time sped by. Two figures in a hammock were clearly evident. Dib looked up at Gaz's expression.
"Gaz, I can tell these are raw and unedited, but you've never even seen these, have you?" Dib asked. He watched her shake her head.
She spoke up. "Dib, you can't use this. You can't try to expose Zim. If you did, they'd not just take him away for who-knows-what. They'd take me too. And with everyone thinking I'm… I'm-"
"Don't worry about it, Gaz. I won't," Dib promised her. He suppressed his own shudder at what would happen to his sister. "Gaz, you gave these to me without even checking to see what was on them first. You even got Zim to trust your judgement enough to allow me to examine this. That I would keep it confidential. Even after I blew it today, he didn't demand them back."
They didn't say anything for a few minutes. "Look, Dib. I know you think Irkens are evil and all, but Zim never was a prime example of his species. Especially when he thought he was an Invader. But the past two weeks he's grown more than he did in all the previous years on our planet."
"I know. I saw bits of that in the transmission with the Tallest, the parking lot, and what I'm reviewing now." Dib paused. "I guess you were correct when you said I didn't know the person behind the Invader. No, you were spot on there. But for a long time you have to admit that there wasn't a lot more to Zim than the Invader, right?"
Gaz nodded. Dib looked back at the display before he continued. "As your brother I don't want it to be true, don't want to admit the possibility even exists, but I'm an investigator too. It's what I do. What I try to be. Even when I want it to be otherwise, I can't reject what the evidence is saying."
Dib went on. "But you were wrong too, Gaz. I remember what you told me last Sunday, about me tossing Irk into a black hole. I'm repulsed by what they do, but I don't personally hate all of them like you think. My fight with Zim has been personal, which has influenced my objectivity, and I admit I can be a bit obsessed like dad at times. But I don't hate them all just because their alien."
Dib didn't say anything for a minute. He wanted to change the subject from himself, but there were no safe topics to go to. "In the video, I heard what you told Zim. You're not just married, are you? I mean it's more than a just legal thing. I read the scrapbook too."
Gaz nodded her head. "I really do care for him. A lot even. I have no desire to back out of this. You think I'm sick for getting involved with an alien, just like almost everyone else. Don't you? Zim's whole planet is joking about us."
Dib shook his head. "No. I don't. I don't like it because I'm your brother and I have major issues with Zim. But it's not like that. I'm into the paranormal and weird, remember? Besides, I keep thinking what I would be going through in your place if I found myself hitched with an Irken." The speed of the video slowed down to normal and showed the picture of a sleeping Gaz beginning to fidget. Next to her was Zim, tightening his grip reassuringly around the girl. His voice was low and soft.
"Gaz-partner. Zim is here. He is not gone. He is alive, right next to you. He is hurt, but still here. He is not leaving, not going anywhere. Have good dreams, Gaz-partner. There is no need to search anymore. Zim is still here," the alien cooed into the sleeping Gaz's ear.
Dib pointed at the display. "You haven't seen this part, have you? That's the third time he's done that. And only when you start having another nightmare. It's not him trying to put subliminal commands in your mind. And it's more than just an act of concern. That alien actually feels for you. I thought it was impossible for him to feel anything but contempt for any non-Irken."
The video sped back up, and the two just sat there in silence for a little while.
Then Dib started laughing. Laughing very hard. "It just occurred to me. All these years, all the plans, schemes, the efforts. The fights, injuries and battles. The pain and anxiety almost every single day. And all I really needed to do to protect Earth from Irken conquest was play matchmaker between you and Zim!"
Gaz chuckled too. "Look on the bright side. If you had at the time, we both would have been putting you in traction permanently."
She didn't speak for a few more moments. "You know, Dib? I always thought it was stupid, how you never named this ship. I mean it's always been 'Tak's ship.' But I get it now. If something happed to Zim his base would be mine, but to me it will always be 'Zim's base.' I couldn't accept possession of it. Not really."
Dib didn't say anything. "You liked her. You were practically friends. I remember how you two would talk about Zim being such an idiot and the latest way she had doomed him. You told me how she listened to you blather on about your paranormal stuff and didn't hold it against you. I mean, she was here almost a month."
"You remember that?"
"Dib, you were never exactly a popular guy. It stood out. Besides, we're sitting in her ship talking and hinting about relationship stuff with Irkens. It tends to bring back some memories."
Dib shrugged his shoulders. "Well, it was a ruse anyway. Plus she would have been trying to take over the planet if she hadn't left."
Gaz looked at her brother. "You sure about that? It all being a ruse, I mean. She wasn't really into the whole scam thing. Other than being in disguise and not divulging the Invader stuff, she was straight with you. Never really went out of her way hurt anybody until the machine activated. Heck, the only one who really suffered was Zim, and you loved that! She even employed a human in that giant hotdog stand instead of putting in an Irken robot. "
She kept going. "As for the 'taking over the world thing,' if you want to think about it, the Tallest were doing the same thing to her as they did to Zim. They told her she could take over a fake 'mission' that was really an exile if she could get rid of Zim. She wasn't an Invader, just like Zim. It wasn't a real Irken effort to seize our planet. It was a disguised assassination attempt on Zim."
Dib shook his head. "Gaz, can we not-"
She interrupted. "You never talked bad about her afterward. Never held anything against her, unlike with Zim. A few minutes ago when you said you didn't hate all Irkens. You meant her, didn't you? You still like her. A part of you still sees her as an almost friend."
"Look, Gaz. What's the point? She's either running around conquering the galaxy or she's still floating in solar orbit dead in an escape pod," Dib said darkly.
"Dib?" Gaz asked softly. "I know every Thursday you sit up on the roof with your little satellite dish and headphones. Is that what you do? Search for her escape beacon?"
"No. I search for Irken transmissions that could indicate a possible invasion, and other phenomena that could be out there," he informed her. "But I never picked up anything from her pod."
Just because he wasn't searching didn't mean he hadn't been listening for it. Gaz impulsively pushed some buttons on the communications panel. Dib tried to interrupt her. "Gaz, what are you-"
"Computer, you there?" she asked.
"Yes, Mistress. Do you need anything?"
"Can you just locate Tak for me, please? She was sent here several years ago to take out Zim. Did someone pick up her escape pod?"
"It will take a minute. Please stand by, Mistress."
"Gaz, what are you doing?" Dib inquired. Gaz didn't answer the rhetorical question. "You're doing this for me, even after I wrecked your reputation today? You, you're showing empathy?"
Gaz looked down. "I know, I should have destroyed you. I don't know what's happening to me, Dib. It's like Zim got in my heart, and now I can't stop. I feel like I'm changing so fast. I've never been like this before. What's happening to me, Dib? Why do I care?"
"It's not true, Gaz. You've been this way before. You just don't remember it. You were too young," Dib stated.
Gaz just looked at him with an odd expression. Dib elaborated. "Gaz, caring is how you used to be. Before Mom left. Before Dad got busy. You were only about four so you don't remember. You're not changing as such. You're just opening up to people again. Gaz, this is you coming back to life."
Gaz didn't know what to say and neither did Dib, who did not really want to thank Zim for bringing his sister back from the stone soul she had been for so long.
"Mistress," Computer called over the communications system. "Tak has been located. She was again sent for janitorial service on the planet Dirt." Dirt was an Irken landfill planet. A planetary garbage dump. "On return she was transferred to the dookie snare machine, catching deliveries from orbiting sewage ships. It was previously an unmanned region. Sometimes they miss."
"Oh, crap." Dib said. Then he realized what he said and slapped his forehead.
"Dib, would you like to call her? See how she's doing? I bet she'd like to leave that place."
"Yeah, right. It's not like they'd just let her quit, leave that place and run away to an alien civilization," Dib said. "It's clearly a punishment."
"Then go get her. Bring her home."
"Like that would happen. I may be able to hold off Zim, but any Irken planet has at least one garrison and some security forces. Even if they let me land, assuming I could get there which would take forever, they wouldn't let me leave with an escaped worker. I'd get shot down leaving."
"Dib, I've got a ship in the area. I could have it make a pick up on the way here," Gaz informed him. He waved her off.
"Computer, relay me to the Doomwind. Encrypted signal."
"One moment, Mistress."
"Gaz, you don't have to-" Dib tried to say.
Gaz put up a hand as a screen came to life. An Irken was looking at them, and she saluted crisply. "Lady Gaz! I am Lim of your Black Sheep unit. Beed is down inspecting the cargo holds and what space can be made available, such as the hangers and maintenance bays. I can have him up here in less than a minute."
"Lim, it is good to meet you. There is no need to interrupt Beed. This is my brother Dib," Gaz made the introduction. She saw the puzzled look at the word brother. "We were birthed from the same bondmates."
"Lady Gaz, your genetic donors were bondmates too?" Lim asked.
"Here on Earth, there are billions of bondmates." Lim's curled antennae straightened at that. "I just called because I have a hypothetical question to ask. I understand there are only thirty in your squadron and running the ship right now. My brother is concerned about someone he knows working on Dirt. Purely hypothetically speaking, would you be able to swing by and pick her up if she wanted to leave?" Lim nodded. "And if she was not allowed to leave, could you conduct a rescue mission and yank her out?"
"Lady Gaz. We currently have thirty space superiority craft in our launch bays. Tactical systems are very light but operational. A few security guards," Lim nearly spat those words, "will be of no consequence. If you wish us to move immediately, using the Hypergate, we can be there in an hour. Give us a week, and we can have a mass driver rigged in the landing bay for orbital strikes to level any instillation on the planet. Another four days to cut up enough asteroids and we can level the whole place. Give us three weeks, and we can have it rigged so Doomwind can engage single cruisers and capital ships. That would, of course, require us to make many round trips back to Irk space for the logistics operation. We are currently understaffed and looking into taking on more hands. There are no limits to staff, but each Governor may only have a maximum of one hundred personal guards. Being bondmates, you may have one hundred each. We can also take aboard another thirty Spittle Runners, or another ninety if we store them in the landing and maintenance bays. It would slow launch and recovery operations, but-"
Gaz held up a hand, interrupting Lim. "Thank you, Lim. That was exactly what I wanted to know. This is just for my brother's sake. He is a worrier, after all. Now the next question is a simple one also for my brother's sake. Would you do it if I asked?"
Lim offered no hesitation at all. "At once, Lady Gaz. You only have to give the order."
"Thank you, Lim. That is all I needed. And about the hiring thing? Can you try to keep it low profile and quiet? And stick to hiring smallests if you can. If you or Beed can find someone suited to do so, let them handle it. You don't have to do that yourselves. Oh, and no prisoners or slave labor, understood?" Lim nodded vigorously. "That is all. Lady Gaz out."
The display blanked and Gaz turned to her brother. "See, Dib? We can get her in an hour. It's not impossible. Do you want to?"
"No, I don't think so," Dib said. "I remember Tak being real big on revenge, and she can really hold a grudge. Besides, it's most likely she blames us for her being sent there. I don't think she'd be overjoyed to see us unless it was to roast our guts on a spit."
Dib turned to face his sister. "But thanks anyway. You know Gaz, for someone who never wanted to get involved, you've become a real player out there. How?"
"Accidentally. Seems being made an Irken Co-governor of a planet, even as a joke, comes with some serious perks."
They didn't say much more for awhile. Before Gaz could head back upstairs to bed Dib spoke up, pulling out the scrapbook and turning to the last insert. "When I was looking through your scrapbook, I also saw this picture. I really freaked when I saw that, Gaz. Especially after, uh, today. Mind if you tell me what that's all about?"
"It's not a comfortable subject, Dib." There was a pause before Gaz continued. "Part of me had just realized that being officially bonded to Zim was a lifetime thing, and being from entirely different planets I would never in my life, um, have what everyone at school thinks I'm having. Zim was just trying to cheer me up. It's just a simulation of what Zim can make in the lab."
"That's kind of creepy," Dib commented.
"Yeah, it is to a human. But it's sort of sweet too."
Gaz kept looking at the picture for a few more moments. Then she reached out and touched it. "Dib? You know the really weird thing? I know she's not real, just some theoretical numbers in Computer's memory if Zim saved his work. But I almost miss her. Like I can't wait to someday meet her."