Zim cackled evilly as he peered through the glass at his latest experiment.
I glowed with radiation that spoke to him only one word: Domination.
This new weapon will surely defeat the pitiful human army in one sweep, he thought. It was manufactured in the vacuum surface of the moon, the only environment stable enough to promote the manufacture of such a weapon.
One small step for man indeed.
Zim regained control of himself and inserted his arms into gloves of the containment box. He slipped radiation-blocking goggles onto his head and began to examine the led shield that incased the devise.
He had to be meticulous about his work – one false move with the probes in his hands and – BOOM! Bye-bye base, bye-bye caldasack. He inhaled deeply as he rotated the devise on its dolly, inspecting each square inch to make sure there was no faulty insulation.
Several minutes later, when he was just about done, he thought he spotted something. It wasn't much, maybe just a figment of his imagination, but you can never be too careful.
When dominating the world, of course.
So he donned a different pair of goggles, and commanded them to magnify. They did, and he was given a more detailed view of the obstruction. There was definitely something there. Maybe nothing serious, but something.
He composed himself, and positioned the probes on either side of the flaw. He maneuvered slowly, carefully, slowly, and carefully…
A bead of sweat ran silently down the side of his green check. He whipped it away with a shrug of his shoulder. Every second, he moved in closer, even more careful, because if this WAS anything it was bound to be a delicate situation. One wrong move…
Suddenly a crack ran down the side of the container. Surprised and shocked, Zim hurriedly pulled away the probes that were just seconds from making contact. He watched, in horror, as the radioactive fluid began to seep out of the insulation. Each second the flow of it increased.
Finally coming to his senses, Zim tore his arms out of the gloves, ripped the goggles from his head, and began to run frantically down the corridor, leaving the rather expensive equipment behind. – It wouldn't serve much purpose in a few seconds.
Pumping with his arms, Zim shouted orders as he sprinted through the interior base.
"COMPUTER!!" he shouted, "SEAL ALL EMERGENCY EXITS!! STOP ALL UNNECISSARY BASE FUNCTION AND FOR IRK'S SAKE SWITCH TO EMERGENCY POWER!!"
"Yes, master." Complied the mediocre voice. Doors slammed shut as Zim passed through them. He could hear the internal works of the frame welding the steal doors shut, never to be reopened. He wondered frantically – how, why, and FOR IRK'S SAKE WHERE IN THE COSMOS WAS G.I.R?!?
"COMPUTER!" he shouted, "SCAN THE PREMESIS FOR ROBOT SERIAL NUMBER 564-344- 2565!!"
"Scanning." It responded. Zim could see the emergency shoot up ahead. (So close!)
"Found." Came the voice. "Serial number 564-344-2565 is in the upper chambers."
Zim thanked the Irkin god's as he heard that. He skidded to a stop in front of the emergency shoot and leapt inside. Once there, he braced for impact, and slammed a gloved fist through the small glass window labeled: "Push my you just try it!"
He knew what would happen, and he had precious seconds to get out. The radioactive liquid would continue to seep through, heating the air and building the pressure. Finally, when the air was radioactive and the pressure was too much, and containment area would explode outward, contaminating the entire base with radiation. This would cause the other weapons of mass destruction to overheat, and go off as well. The blast should be minimal if all the doors sealed, but at this point nothing was to be counted on.
His fist compressed the 'launch' button, and almost instantaneously the thrusters beneath the capsule hurled it upward. Zim collapsed under the G- forces and hit the floor of the capsule hard.
For a moment, the gravity seemed never ending, but after a moment it stopped. Zim knew that the emergency pod had reached zero-G, and would soon plummet to the Earth. Almost as soon as he thought it, he felt the sensation of free falling. He gripped the floor of the capsule and held on for dear life. He knew that at any moment, the bottom of the capsule would drop out, and he would have to activate the jets in his backpack for a smooth landing. But he hadn't used the jets in so long, and he doubted their ability on such short notice.
The bottom gave way, and Zim wedged his way through the separating pieces. He began to freefall, and did what he was trained to do in such a situation.
He was confident that the jets wouldn't work, so instead of using precious second beating a dead horse, he began to dive headfirst to the ground. He spread his arms wide like a swan dive, and crossed one of them over his chest. With that he tapped the small button located on his uniform, just below the collar.
His backpack opened and a small parachute released, for a moment slowing the fall. But it did not last long; because Zim was already too close to the ground and wind resistance was not adequate. The chute flapped uselessly behind him, and he was going to hit the ground just as the house erupted.
At first it was just the light, then after what seemed like forever, a crashing BOOM rocked the city. Zim was blown of his collision course with the Earth and the blast acted like a cushion, softening the fall marginally. He still hit hard, and almost blacked out until he heard an all too familiar voice: GIR.
"WwwwwwWWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!" cried GIR as he was shot through the air. He landed a few feet from Zim, who was doubled over in pain. He immediately rushed to his master's side.
"Let's do that AGAIN!"
Usually Zim would have reprimanded the robot for such inappropriate talk, but he was too distracted with the massive explosion that had just occurred. Clutching his stomach with one hand, he reached the other up to his brow and found blood. He must have hit the capsule floor harder than he thought. It currently didn't hurt, but Zim knew that his body was pumping endorphins through his blood and eventually the pain would come. He glanced over at the former base-
The aftershocks were still being felt, as Zim looked over at the spot where his house used to be. The ground was leveled, and a deep pit lay there. Several houses around the blast had been damaged or completely flattened by the explosion. He gathered the strength to walk, and headed towards the hole in the ground that was his home.
He peered down, and could see that the top of the subterranean base was still intact; it was merely the FORCE of the blast that caused the explosion. That would explain the lack of pedestrians running in pain from radiation exposure. Dirt was still falling back into place, and with a little luck, would cover the top of the base completely. It was only then that Zim realized he was outside his base – what was his base- without a disguise.
"Quick GIR," said Zim weakly, "Hand me the emergency disguise."
GIR opened his chest cavity, and pulled out a Sox baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses. He handed them to Zim. Zim slipped on the sunglasses, and put the baseball cap on backwards so that the brim would not obstruct his view of the scene. He eyed the hole in the ground, realizing with a horrible feeling at the pit of his stomach the evident truth.
Everything was there: Their home, the equipment, and most damming of all, the Voot cruiser. Zim grit his teeth, wrapped his arms around his battered body and spoke the dreaded words –
"We're stranded GIR. No way home, no way back, nothing. We're stranded forever on this pitiful ball of filth."
This new weapon will surely defeat the pitiful human army in one sweep, he thought. It was manufactured in the vacuum surface of the moon, the only environment stable enough to promote the manufacture of such a weapon.
One small step for man indeed.
Zim regained control of himself and inserted his arms into gloves of the containment box. He slipped radiation-blocking goggles onto his head and began to examine the led shield that incased the devise.
He had to be meticulous about his work – one false move with the probes in his hands and – BOOM! Bye-bye base, bye-bye caldasack. He inhaled deeply as he rotated the devise on its dolly, inspecting each square inch to make sure there was no faulty insulation.
Several minutes later, when he was just about done, he thought he spotted something. It wasn't much, maybe just a figment of his imagination, but you can never be too careful.
When dominating the world, of course.
So he donned a different pair of goggles, and commanded them to magnify. They did, and he was given a more detailed view of the obstruction. There was definitely something there. Maybe nothing serious, but something.
He composed himself, and positioned the probes on either side of the flaw. He maneuvered slowly, carefully, slowly, and carefully…
A bead of sweat ran silently down the side of his green check. He whipped it away with a shrug of his shoulder. Every second, he moved in closer, even more careful, because if this WAS anything it was bound to be a delicate situation. One wrong move…
Suddenly a crack ran down the side of the container. Surprised and shocked, Zim hurriedly pulled away the probes that were just seconds from making contact. He watched, in horror, as the radioactive fluid began to seep out of the insulation. Each second the flow of it increased.
Finally coming to his senses, Zim tore his arms out of the gloves, ripped the goggles from his head, and began to run frantically down the corridor, leaving the rather expensive equipment behind. – It wouldn't serve much purpose in a few seconds.
Pumping with his arms, Zim shouted orders as he sprinted through the interior base.
"COMPUTER!!" he shouted, "SEAL ALL EMERGENCY EXITS!! STOP ALL UNNECISSARY BASE FUNCTION AND FOR IRK'S SAKE SWITCH TO EMERGENCY POWER!!"
"Yes, master." Complied the mediocre voice. Doors slammed shut as Zim passed through them. He could hear the internal works of the frame welding the steal doors shut, never to be reopened. He wondered frantically – how, why, and FOR IRK'S SAKE WHERE IN THE COSMOS WAS G.I.R?!?
"COMPUTER!" he shouted, "SCAN THE PREMESIS FOR ROBOT SERIAL NUMBER 564-344- 2565!!"
"Scanning." It responded. Zim could see the emergency shoot up ahead. (So close!)
"Found." Came the voice. "Serial number 564-344-2565 is in the upper chambers."
Zim thanked the Irkin god's as he heard that. He skidded to a stop in front of the emergency shoot and leapt inside. Once there, he braced for impact, and slammed a gloved fist through the small glass window labeled: "Push my you just try it!"
He knew what would happen, and he had precious seconds to get out. The radioactive liquid would continue to seep through, heating the air and building the pressure. Finally, when the air was radioactive and the pressure was too much, and containment area would explode outward, contaminating the entire base with radiation. This would cause the other weapons of mass destruction to overheat, and go off as well. The blast should be minimal if all the doors sealed, but at this point nothing was to be counted on.
His fist compressed the 'launch' button, and almost instantaneously the thrusters beneath the capsule hurled it upward. Zim collapsed under the G- forces and hit the floor of the capsule hard.
For a moment, the gravity seemed never ending, but after a moment it stopped. Zim knew that the emergency pod had reached zero-G, and would soon plummet to the Earth. Almost as soon as he thought it, he felt the sensation of free falling. He gripped the floor of the capsule and held on for dear life. He knew that at any moment, the bottom of the capsule would drop out, and he would have to activate the jets in his backpack for a smooth landing. But he hadn't used the jets in so long, and he doubted their ability on such short notice.
The bottom gave way, and Zim wedged his way through the separating pieces. He began to freefall, and did what he was trained to do in such a situation.
He was confident that the jets wouldn't work, so instead of using precious second beating a dead horse, he began to dive headfirst to the ground. He spread his arms wide like a swan dive, and crossed one of them over his chest. With that he tapped the small button located on his uniform, just below the collar.
His backpack opened and a small parachute released, for a moment slowing the fall. But it did not last long; because Zim was already too close to the ground and wind resistance was not adequate. The chute flapped uselessly behind him, and he was going to hit the ground just as the house erupted.
At first it was just the light, then after what seemed like forever, a crashing BOOM rocked the city. Zim was blown of his collision course with the Earth and the blast acted like a cushion, softening the fall marginally. He still hit hard, and almost blacked out until he heard an all too familiar voice: GIR.
"WwwwwwWWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!" cried GIR as he was shot through the air. He landed a few feet from Zim, who was doubled over in pain. He immediately rushed to his master's side.
"Let's do that AGAIN!"
Usually Zim would have reprimanded the robot for such inappropriate talk, but he was too distracted with the massive explosion that had just occurred. Clutching his stomach with one hand, he reached the other up to his brow and found blood. He must have hit the capsule floor harder than he thought. It currently didn't hurt, but Zim knew that his body was pumping endorphins through his blood and eventually the pain would come. He glanced over at the former base-
The aftershocks were still being felt, as Zim looked over at the spot where his house used to be. The ground was leveled, and a deep pit lay there. Several houses around the blast had been damaged or completely flattened by the explosion. He gathered the strength to walk, and headed towards the hole in the ground that was his home.
He peered down, and could see that the top of the subterranean base was still intact; it was merely the FORCE of the blast that caused the explosion. That would explain the lack of pedestrians running in pain from radiation exposure. Dirt was still falling back into place, and with a little luck, would cover the top of the base completely. It was only then that Zim realized he was outside his base – what was his base- without a disguise.
"Quick GIR," said Zim weakly, "Hand me the emergency disguise."
GIR opened his chest cavity, and pulled out a Sox baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses. He handed them to Zim. Zim slipped on the sunglasses, and put the baseball cap on backwards so that the brim would not obstruct his view of the scene. He eyed the hole in the ground, realizing with a horrible feeling at the pit of his stomach the evident truth.
Everything was there: Their home, the equipment, and most damming of all, the Voot cruiser. Zim grit his teeth, wrapped his arms around his battered body and spoke the dreaded words –
"We're stranded GIR. No way home, no way back, nothing. We're stranded forever on this pitiful ball of filth."