Chapter 1 – A Day in the Life



Dib smiled, lost in an unusually good dream. One of the few pleasant dreams he ever had, these days. There wasn't much in his life worth dreaming about anymore, and plenty of things to give nightmares. But for some reason, today was an exception.

Snuggling further into the mattress of his bed, Dib hoped that the dream wouldn't end, that he wouldn't have to wake and face the day. But, something began to prick at his consciousness, persistent and growing more irritating by the millisecond. It was some kind of noise, a buzzing… Oh, the alarm.

Dib reached out blindly to slap the snooze-button, and then rolled over with a groan, burying his face in a pillow and trying to burrow back into the haven of sleep, back to the warmth of his dream. The gray fogginess of sleep welcomed him into it's embrace, but it seemed he had hardly begun to snore when the alarm sounded again, tearing him from his rest, urging him back to the real world.

"Alright, alright. I'm awake." Groggily he sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. The day was waiting, and it was impatient.

Clad in gray boxers, a dark blue t-shirt and socks more black than white now, Dib struggled out of his sheets and headed for the bathroom, flinging a rude gesture at the alarm clock as he left.

Of course, Gaz was already up and in the shower, which meant Dib had a good 20-minute wait until the bathroom would be free. Sighing, he made his way to the kitchen to pour a bowl of Count-Coco-Fang cereal.





* * *



An hour later, Dib and Gaz were on their way to skool, Gaz at the wheel of their Hover-car, and Dib hanging his head out of the window to catch the breeze. "Y'know Dib, dogs like to hang their heads out of car windows too. The dumb ones." His sister quipped, flipping the dial on the radio. Dib sighed and pulled his head into the car, leaning back into the cushioning of his seat. He didn't bother arguing with his sister anymore, not that he ever had, much. It wasn't that Gaz disliked Dib; she just couldn't seem to show any other emotion besides displeasure. Dib wasn't sure if that was something she did to hide her true feelings, or if it was just her way of acting cool. Either way, he'd learned not to pay much attention to it anymore – Gaz was Gaz, and he loved her no matter what.

Turning into the parking lot at break-neck speed, Gaz maneuvered around loitering students and slower vehicles until she found a spot to park. The Hover-car's engine purred to a halt, and the vehicle slowly sank to the ground. Gaz grabbed her backpack and jumped out of the car, trying to make it to class before…

"Gaz! Hey Gaz!." A voice cheerfully rang out from a few rows down. Gaz slumped her shoulders, her face darkening suddenly. She muttered something under her breath that Dib couldn't catch, but by the expression on her face, he was probably better off not knowing.

An entourage of females with dyed hair, dark clothes, and –way- too much makeup rushed over to Gaz and clung to her like iron pyrite on a magnet. All at once they began talking at her, complimenting her clothes, asking about her weekend, gossiping about the "way hot guys" they'd seen at the mall. Gaz took it all in with the practiced patience of someone who had been through this and worse many times over.

Dib shook his head as he slipped out of the car, adjusting his trademark trench coat as he stood. He couldn't understand what all the fuss was about. Gaz was the same as she had always been: dark purple hair neatly combed, but left to hang simply down to her shoulders, and just the barest hints of powder and mascara on her pale, pretty face. Today she was dressed in a black, button-down cardigan, a short, purple leather skirt, striped stockings, and black Mary-Janes. Her style had always been unique, it had always been her own, and no one had really questioned it one way or the other. However, in a bizarre twist of fate, when she had begun attending high skool, somehow Gaz became a trendsetter. Now she had a whole following of preps-wanting-to-be-Goths to contend with on a daily basis. They wore what she wore, they shopped where she shopped, and they tried to act cool and aloof like she was, though they failed miserably on all counts.

Gaz wasn't concerned with clothes, or guys, or what her groupies considered to be "cool", but she had learned early on that once the preps latched onto you, it would take the Jaws of Life to pry them off. She just hoped that maybe a few of them would eventually grow out of the rut of copycatting and discover who –they- were, instead of working so hard to be someone else.

The barrage of chatter went on until Gaz was certain her head would explode. She grit her teeth together to keep herself from popping off with a sarcastic remark. The last time she had done that, her "friends" had thought she was being oh-so cute and clever, and didn't stop giggling about it for a week.

"Yes, I'm sure it's all so very interesting." Gaz said at last, with resignation, as the group swept her along with them into the hallways of the skool. Dib shook his head once more, and then stuffing his hands into the deep pockets of his coat, began making his way to first period.



* * *





Dib sat in his history class, the notes for the day pulled up on his desktop computer. His teacher for the day was a professor of archeology, Dr. Jones, who was broadcasting live from the Great Pyramids in Egypt. Every classroom was now equipped with a hover-screen, so that educators from every part of the globe could teach in any classroom, without ever leaving the comfort of their own home, or wherever they happened to be. This greatly cut down on the cost of field trips, for those skools with tight budgets, allowing the museums and whatnot to come to the student, rather than the other way around.

Today's discussion was on ancient monuments. Dr. Jones was just finishing his explanation of how the ancient peoples constructed such large and complex buildings and statues. "… And that's how the ancient Egyptians were able to build these wonderful monuments that are still with us today." A girl near the front of the class leaned over to whisper something to her friend, and the pair began to giggle.

"Is there something you'd like to share with us, Christine?" Dr. Jones asked, his hover-screen drifting closer towards the pair. The girl stifled a laugh and sat up straighter in her seat, folding her hands neatly in her lap. "Actually, I think Dib might have his own theories about the Pyramids, Dr. Jones. Isn't that right, Dib?" She glanced back at him, smirking cruelly, and a few other students began to snicker. "He thinks they were built by "aliens", from "outer space"." Christine laughed again, and the rest of class joined in, pointing fingers and making jokes that Dib couldn't hear.

Dib's face began to go bright red, and he slouched down in his seat, eyes downcast. Once, Dib may have said something in his own defense, but not any more. The jibes were only worse when he tried arguing his position, the laughter more hysterical, the stares longer. Now, Dib simply tried to ignore the taunting and teasing, silence his best answer to the torture.

"Class, settle down. That will be enough. Dib is entitled to his… er… unique views. There isn't any evidence that says that some ancient monuments couldn't have been constructed by… peoples not of our planet, though it is highly unlikely… " The professor shot Dib a look of sympathy before continuing with the lecture. "The earliest Pyramids, as I have told you, are believed to have been designed by the great architect Imhotep during the third Dynasty. However, no one really knows just who built some of the older monuments, like the Sphinx, though many researchers believe it was commissioned by the Pharaoh Khafra of the fourth dynasty. Now, there are some very interesting theories regarding the Sphinx, and… "

Dib wished he could curl up in a ball and die.





* * *





The skool cafeteria was filled with the usual sound of students chatting, laughing, and having a good time as they ate their mid-day meal. Dib carried his tray from the lunch-line, wandering between tables in the pursuit of an quiet place to eat his lunch. He passed by several small clusters of students, grouped by similar interest or activity: the jocks, eating their protein-laden meals, the drama club, pouring over a script for the skool musical, the computer-geeks, each typing furiously on their lap- tops and spouting techno-babble like it was some foreign language, and there was Gaz with her entourage, looking – with the exception of Gaz herself - like cheerleaders mauled by some masochistic beautician.

Dib at last found a half-empty table at the far corner of the room, and sat down with his tray of… something. He picked up a knife and fork and tentatively gave his meal a poke. "What -is- this stuff?" Scooping up a fork-full, Dib took a closer look. "Eww. They can't possibly expect anyone to actually -eat- this sludge." Dropping his fork, Dib pushed his tray back with disgust.

On the other side of the room, Gaz was doing her best to concentrate on the book in her hands, but her groupies refused to give her a moment of peace. "So, Gaz, did you see that movie with that guy? The vampire one? He was soooo hot! He could bite me anytime." That was Jaina, now giggling like an airhead. Blond hair, dyed black at the ends, was cropped short and spiked up with gel; her eyes were lined in dark blue, and shadowed all around in gray. She wore skin-tight navy pants, a chic black spaghetti- strap tank top with the word "Devil" in red sequins, and knee-high black boots covered with straps and silver studs. Gaz murmured something non- committal and frowned down her nose into the pages of her book.

"You'd let anyone bite you, if he was cute enough, Jai." Jeered another girl, Rhavyn, good-naturedly. She was plump and freckled, wearing baggy jeans, chunky shoes, and a T-shirt sporting the slogan of a popular rock group, all black. Her hair was brown, shot through with streaks of deep purple, hanging to her shoulders in a myriad of small, beaded braids. Her lips were painted blood red, her face caked with too much powder, and her lashes heavy and dark with mascara.

The girls bantered back and forth, with the others joining in with gibes and comments. Gaz tried her best to ignore them, but was unsuccessful. At last the bell rang, and the students slowly began to scatter to their classes.





* * *





Dib and Gaz walked through the front door of their house – the same house they had lived in all their lives – and both headed straight for the kitchen, dropping their skool bags on the way.

Opening the fridge Gaz grabbed a soda, popped the top, and proceeded to guzzle the entire can in one breath. She then crushed the aluminum can in her fist, flexing an arm that was stronger than its slenderness let on. "I needed that." Gaz said, then belched quietly, remarkably quiet considering – almost daintily, if a belch could be called dainty -- and leaned over the counter to check the answering machine. "Oh look, a message from Dad." She murmured, not sounding at all happy. "Whatcha wanna bet he's too busy to come home for dinner?" She looked at her brother and arched a brow before pushing the play button. A holographic image of an official-looking seal popped into the air; it was a yellow triangle inside a red sphere, with the words, "United Earth Consulate" in blue lettering across, with a smaller phrase beneath which read, "Building a better earth, today, tomorrow, and forever more." The seal hung in the air for a few moments, then was replaced with a hologram representation of their father.

"Dib, Gaz, how was your day? The Council meeting is going overlong, and I do not believe we will be done by this evening. I am sorry that I will not be able to make it home tonight. I know you will understand. Be good, do your homework, and be sure to get plenty of sleep. I love you, both. Good night." The good professor disappeared abruptly.

Dib looked at his sister and shrugged. "At least he remembered to leave a message this time." Gaz snorted, erasing the message from their father. "Does it even matter? It's not like he ever had time for us before he became a "world leader". Why should we expect anything to have changed just because he did?" Before Dib could reply, Gaz flipped on the holo-phone and dialed Bloatie's Pizza. She ordered a large pepperoni pizza then hung up.

Dib folded his arms and looked at her. "His work is important, Gaz. Since the union, there haven't been any more wars. The Council is working on curing diseases, ending hunger, fixing the environment. You've been to the moon, Gaz! Do you think that would have happened without the Council? Without the things Dad is doing?"

"Moon-shmoon. They didn't even let me fly the ship. Not even once! I could have handled it. Anyway, what's changed Dib? Do you think anything is really different? Now we have one big "United Earth" instead of a bunch of separate countries. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but France is still France, Africa is still Africa, and Dad is still Dad. Professor Membrane or Councilor Membrane, he's still too distracted with everything else to have time for his family. That's how it's always been, that's how it always will be." Turning abruptly on her heel, Gaz waltzed out, dropping the empty soda can into the trash receptacle, which instantly vaporized it. "Oh, Dib? Don't touch my sodas. Or I'll pound you." Gaz then grabbed her backpack and headed up to her room.

Dib sighed, then fished out some leftover take-out Chinese from the fridge and also headed upstairs. As he started on his homework he could hear Gaz working out her aggression with her Game Slave 1000 – the latest in video game technology. The GS 1000, unlike earlier models which relied on hand-held controllers with tiny built-in screens, used virtual reality goggles to immerse the wearer in the game world, with movement-sensitive gloves which allowed the wearer to control the action. The next step, according to top sources in the video game industry, would be a "holo-room" which would have the capability to create life-like locals and persons, allowing the player to, in essence, lose themselves in a new world. Though when that technology would be released on the market was another question entirely.

When he finished his homework, Dib popped in a tape of Mysterious Mysteries – long ago cancelled – and lay back on his bed to watch. Twilight soon faded to darkness as the evening stretched on, and eventually the tape came to the final episode: The Truth about Chickenfoot.

Dib shut off the TV just as the host of Mysterious Mysteries began to speak. It hadn't been long after that episode that the series ended, and it was all because of Dib. He tried not to think about it, but the memories came anyway. Back then he had thought that exposing Chickenfoot as a phony would prove that paranormal researchers were serious, that they didn't put their beliefs into every crackpot story that someone had to sell. But he was wrong. By exposing chickenfoot as a fake, Dib had armed the skeptics with all the ammunition they needed to shed doubt on all other unexplained phenomena. Soon after, all mysterious occurrences were treated as fantasy, and anyone who professed to believe in strange phenomena such as ghosts or aliens were considered insane. Those who would not see reason were sent to institutions. Dib himself narrowly escaped being permanently locked up.

But, being the sole person responsible for the downfall of all paranormal research, and being branded insane because of his continued beliefs were not all that he was trying to forget. Dib had other reasons for not wanting to remember that period in his life. That was shortly before "he" went away, leaving Dib to question all the things he had believed.

Rolling over onto his belly, Dib reached between his mattress and box spring, pulling out a padded manila envelope. Inside was a sturdy piece of cardboard, folded in two, keeping safe something precious. This was what Zim had left to him all those years ago, this was the one thing that had helped him keep his faith in all he had once believed in. This was the one truth he could cling to. Opening the cardboard, he carefully removed a faded photograph and held it up to examine, as he had done so many, many times before.

The photo was of Zim and Gir, though not as boy and dog. Zim wore no disguise in this picture, nor did his robot companion. No, Zim had left Dib with a confirmation of the truth, though it was truth he could share with no one. One photo would not convince his father, or Gaz, or anyone for that matter, other than perhaps someone with "swollen eyes". Unfortunately, the secret society had been forced into even deeper concealment, after the Chickenfoot incident, and few wanted anything to do with Dib. No, this photo was for Dib and Dib alone.

On the photo, Zim had scrawled a simple message; two words that had meant the world to Dib when he first read them, and still did. "I exist." No one would believe, except Dib.

He settled back against his pillow, picture clutched carefully in his hands, and looked out at the stars, wondering, until sleep finally beckoned him into its haven of rest.



* * *



The Irken Armada amassed around the planet Conventia, weapons bristling on every ship. The complementary transporters of the convention planet were working overtime, transfering what seemed hundreds of Irken down to the planet.

The announcement by the Almighty Tallest was brief, yet shocking. War was upon the mighty Irken Empire, a war like they had not seen since the conquest of planet Y'tik, fabled home of the Black Terror. The announcement was broadcast to the ships in orbit, and in the near star system, for those unable to make it down to the surface of the planet.

"Greetings fellow Irkens! It is my sad duty to announce to you today that we, the Mighty Irken Empire, have been served a declaration of war by a race known only as the Kann.

"We know very little about the Kann, except that they are invaders, like us, and they have begun seizing control of the outermost worlds held by us. And they are coming ever closer to our home planet Irk." The Tallest paused a moment, to let the words sink into the minds and hearts of the Irkens gathered. "But, fear not, brothers and sisters! The Irken Army is mighty! We will soon show the Kann the error of rising against the Irken race!

"Now, soldiers, return to your ships and await your orders. You will do the empire proud." A great cheer went up from the crowd as the Tallest waved, then marched off stage.

Purple peeked out from the side of the stage, watching as the multitude departed. "Well, that didn't go too bad." He said, smoothing down the front of his uniform. Red moved beside him, and glanced briefly out at the crowd. "There weren't enough lasers. The people want lasers!" Purple rolled his eyes, exasperated, and turned to face Red. "Will you stop with the lasers? It's always lasers with you. Can't you ever get excited about anything else? How about smoke machines, for instance? Or, I may be crazy here, but what about dry ice? Nobody ever wants dry ice, but it makes such a lovely fog."

Red made a "phsss" noise with his lips, waving off his companion. "Gee, smoke machines and fog, how original. I bet the primitives really enjoyed those when they first discovered fire, Pur, but we're just a little more advanced than that now. –You- may be amused by dark air, but the rest of us need a bit more stimulation." Purple raised a brow at Red, perking at the word "stimulation".

"Enough, I implore you!" A third voice cried then, dramatically. "When will the incessant bickering end!?"

"We weren't bickering, Zim" Red said, finally. "Yeah, and it wasn't incessant." Purple added, indignantly. Zim threw up his hands and turned to leave; Red and Purple shared a look, and then began making faces at Zim behind his back as they followed him out.

Back on the Armada's flagship, the Massive, the trio made their way to the observation deck to watch the fleet move out. "Was it wise not to tell the soldiers the truth about the Kann? They will find out sooner or later." Zim said, hands clasped behind his back as he stared out the viewport. "A happy army is an efficient army, Zim." Purple said, as if by rote. "Besides, it's not like we –lied-, exactly." Red added.

"But the fact is, the Irken Army can't fight these Kann by themselves. We need help." Zim turned to face the two, forehead creased with thought. "And I think I know where we can find it."

"No, no no no no no! We are INVADERS. We –conquer- other planets. We do not ask for help. Right?" Red looked over at Purple for help. "Riiight?!" Purple gave Red a blank stare, then shrugged helplessly.

Red sighed. "Alright, Zim. We'll try it your way."