***

"Okay, now for the pat-down. Could you please raise your arms?"

Zim obeyed and rolled his eyes as he did. "You guys must really love your job."

The Cruiser inspector was bored. He didn't even glance up from his electronic clipboard as three other uniformed Irkens poked and prodded the pockets and cavities of Zim's uniform to their heart's content. When one of them got a little too curious for his own good, Zim responded with a slap. "Don't touch me." Looking over his shoulder at the four guys inspecting the Voot, with his arms still raised in the air, he asked, "Is all of this really necessary? A full ship and body cavity inspection? . . . (Stop it!)"

The inspector tiredly looked up at Zim, the weariness in the short Irken's eyes reaching Zim's consciousness. He no more liked performing these inspections than Zim enjoyed being the recipient of them.

"We're only doing our job."

Uh-huh. Zim wasn't convinced. He also hadn't been able to hear what the Irken had said so he winged it off. "Whatever. If I have to strip then we're talking about a major sexual harassment suit just waiting to happen." He grinned at his Earth-influenced remark, knowing the humor was for the audience of one. The incomprehension flickering across the faces of all within hearing isolated him from the rest. For the first time, he felt his outsiderness keenly and to a depth he'd never experienced before.

So this is what it's like, he thought in mock depression. This is what the frustration I saw every day in Dib's eyes feels like. Ah well. Better now than never.

Gir, meanwhile, was getting a kick out of the inspection. Gleefully the little bot handed the female Irken inspector every single object he kept inside his head. A pile of toys, eleven tacos, one slice of pizza, three cola drinks and the entire contents of a box of car parts was growing with the end nowhere in sight. Zim bit his tongue to keep laughter at bay. The female was looking increasingly exasperated by the minute.

Finally, the public humiliation was over (the dock inside the Massive was full of Irkens coming and going like a modern Earth airport). Zim straightened his rumpled uniform and pinned a dirty look to the departing crew of body and ship violators. Impulse hit him and he gave into the urge to give all turned backs the Bird.

"I don't know Gir," he commented aloud as the SIR came to stand beside him. "Sometimes I wonder if coming back here was a mistake."

"You're half-blind!" Gir squealed unhelpfully. "And you can't hear good no more!"

Zim glared at him out of his good eye. "Thanks for the reminder."

Gir just smiled and gave his master a quick hug. Zim patted him on the head affectionately. He was really fond of the little robot, and his unconditional devotion kept Zim honest to his own emotions every day. Once he loathed Gir's boundless love for everything because it seemed misdirected. Now he realized it wasn't misdirection, it was a simple unprejudiced outlook on all things contrary to the pessimism of the cruel universe. For in Gir, he could always rely on that.

Worn out from the journey and the too intrusive attentions of the search, Zim leaned against the hull of his parked Cruiser. He massaged the space between his eyes, feeling a pervasive ache emanate from deep within. All he wanted to do was lie down and sleep. He sighed quietly. Nothing to do now except wait for the Tallest to come meet him. Boy, won't that be fun, he reflected acidly. It's not enough I hate them but I have to talk to them? Ugh.

Gir watched his master and felt an unfamiliar flicker of sorrow go through his circuits. Coming close to Zim he said, "It's okay, master. Everything's gonna be okay."

Zim didn't open his eyes but he did smile and that did a lot for the little robot. If there was nothing else he existed for, it had to be this. It had to be this.

***

From across the dock, Red and Purple waited. They watched the inspection of the strange too-tall-for-his-own-good Irken and marveled. Well, not exactly marveled, since they never let this be made evident in their verbal opinions. Moreover they were miffed at his behavior. Normal Irkens usually passively let the crews look them over without so much as a howdy-do. This one, however, stuck on self-imposed limits and pointed out everything they were doing was ludicrous.

Plus there was a disturbingly au courant inflection to his voice neither leader of the Empire found comforting in the least. They simultaneously dismissed it when they watched the Irken lean against his ship in exhaustion. A SIR unit crept up close to him and the two exchanged very quiet conversation.

Something about the SIR rubbed Purple wrong. "Doesn't that SIR unit look familiar to you?"

Red eyed it and nodded, his light red eyes narrowing. "It sure does." Quickly he shook himself. "But a lot of Irkens have those old issue SIRs. Plus if it WAS what we thought it was . . ."

Purple nodded, following his co-ruler's logic. "Yeah. But what about his ship? I have NEVER seen a ship like that before. It looks . . . really bad."

"Bad? Bad how?" Red asked sarcastically. "Bad like a piece of junk or bad like someone took it upon himself to slap together his own fancy-pants space shuttle?"

Purple burst out laughing. "Haha! That's great! Fancy-pants! Hehe."

Red waited for him to calm down before flatly declaring, "You're an idiot."

Purple just stuck out his tongue and ended the matter there.

When they drew close enough, the strange Irken became aware of their presence. Rather heavily, he stood up straight and brushed off his uniform. He lifted his chin high and peered at his rulers with such an expression of contempt and misgiving, each Tallest felt an echo of their own misgiving come from within as well. He didn't bother saluting, wiggling his antenna or showing any manner of fealty. The Tallest glanced at each other, their facial expressions a mixture of annoyance and boredom.

The stranger tilted his head to the side and focused on the Tallest with his right eye, his other eye half-lidded. "I can't believe you two got off your high horse to come down and see me. I feel honored." There was no respect in his tone.

"Hey," Red began keeping his temper in check. "When we give you permission to speak, you do it then."

"Yeah, you can't just blurt any little thing that comes out of your head!" Purple added with relish.

"Huh?" A bead of sweat appeared on the Irken's forehead.

Red turned briefly to Purple. "You would know." Back to the strange Irken, he put. "Who are you?"

"Huh?" The Irken began to sweat even more. "What?"

Purple leaned in close to the stranger's face. "Are you stupid?"

The Irken gritted his teeth and used his index finger to push Purple back a little. Irkens watching gasped, startled and shocked anyone would TOUCH a Tallest let alone do it in such a defiant manner.

"You're going to have to speak up, sirs," the stranger growled. "I can't hear you."

Collectively the Tallest stared at him, not knowing what to say or even how to react to such a statement.

"You can't HEAR us?" Purple blurted out loudly. "That doesn't make any sense. How can you NOT hear us?"

The Irken cupped one hand to the side of his head. "Thank you. I just don't."

"He's deaf!" the SIR unit piped up in that unmistakable, one-of-a-kind, high-pitched voice that sent reverberations through both Tallest. Red's mouth dropped open and the candy bar in Purple's hand fell out of its wrapper to the floor. Not so much as what the SIR had said shocked them as they finally recognized the droid.

"Hey, it's that piece of junk!" Purple announced. "That-That . . ." It dawned on him. "Oh no."

Red didn't buy it. "Where did you get that SIR?"

The stranger tapped the side of his head and shook it.

"I SAID WHERE DID YOU GET THAT SIR?!"

"From you." The stranger then indicated Purple. "And you."

Purple raised his arms in exasperation. "That's crazy! That SIR belongs to . . . to. . ." He covered his face with his arm. "Don't make me say it! Don't make me say HIS name!"

Red rested a hand on his co-ruler's shoulder. "Hey, calm down." To the stranger he imparted. "That SIR was given to an 'invader'," He made the 'air words' with two digits, "named Zim. He was banished from the Empire ten years ago. Twice, actually." I hope, he added silently.

The stranger nodded. "Oh yes, I know Zim."

Purple and Red glanced at each other. "Oh?" Purple said off-handedly. "How?"

The Irken shrugged. "Being that I AM Zim, that pretty much cuts into the how part." He gave his leaders that maniacally evil grin that sent shock waves through them like there was no tomorrow. In each Tallest's mind, a montage of images from the past resurfaced. It sent Purple to screaming a prolonged "No!" to the sky while Red just stared at Zim with an open mouth.

Zim held up a hand. "Really, my Tallest, none of that is necessary."

Purple shut up. Red closed his mouth.

Let's get this over with. Zim folded his arms and decided it time to explain himself. "I have not come begging for my exile to be terminated nor have I come seeking to relinquish my outsider status. Under less dire circumstances you would have had to have me shot and killed to drag me back here. I've come for medical treatment and nothing else."

There was a long, awkward silence.

Finally Red found his tongue. It wasn't easy. "Meet us in our quarters."

Zim sighed and pointed to his ear.

Purple supplemented shouting and gestured for Zim to follow them. The former invader nodded and turned to Gir. "Stay here with the cruiser. I don't want anyone getting any funny ideas."

Gir's eyes went red and he saluted. "Yes sir!"

***

Neither of the Tallest knew what to make of him. Zim could see they were experiencing varying degrees of embarrassment and the tiniest amount of shame. After all, Zim thought sarcastically, they were the ones who decided to one day to cut the bullshit and kick me out of the Empire flat on my ass. They had to do it twice.

For a long time, neither leader spoke much. Since getting to their quarters, they'd gone off to the side, conversing quietly amongst themselves. Once in a while one of them would glance at him. Zim occupied himself by alternately staring out the window at the stars, decorations on the walls and eyeing the silent presence of the Tallests' personal guards. Becoming restless, he wandered around the room and peered closely at things that resembled Earth lava lamps and little birdie dip things that pretended to "drink" a liquid out of a cup.

"Zim."

Zim looked up and went back to where he was standing, assuming again his quietly defiant posture.

It was Purple who had spoken. He seemed rather reluctant to speak first but Red poked him in the back. "We're going to be honest with you. Considering your, uh, unscheduled arrival, Red and I feel it's best to be blunt."

"First time for everything." Zim's tone was flat.

Red volunteered to go next. "You can have your, uh, treatment, provided you leave as soon as possible. I mean, you do understand you've been declared . . . non-active."

Zim got it immediately. "I'm dead."

"Yeah," Purple added uneasily. "You do realize how embarrassing it is that you're, um, alive. For us, I mean." Red poked him hard. "OW! For the whole Empire."

Zim shook his head. How is it these guys don't fall down more? "You don't have to pussy-foot around me, my Tallest." It was an effort to get the last part out. "I'm not the same Zim who thought by making fires worse was putting them out. I'm not the same Zim you decided to one day, for kicks, to tell the truth about my 'mission.'"

"You remember that?" Red said weakly.

"I wish I didn't."

Purple eyed him. "You've really . . . changed. You sound the same but you're . . . taller."

"Yeah," Red agreed. "How did that happen? You were such a tiny little thing. Now you're . . uh . . ."

"Tall," supplied Purple.

Zim shook his head. How did I not see what idiots these two are before? "Is there a point to this? Big deal, I'm taller than I used to be but, oh thank God for you, not tall enough to be Tallest. Believe me, if I were, I would not take the position. I have better things to do than sit on my ass all day."

Both Tallest looked shocked. It was still difficult to register in their minds that this once respectful laughingstock of the Empire was now a defiant individual who had his once wildly unpredictable intelligence under sensible control. Although they remained confused as to why Zim was as sick as he was.

Red finally approached Zim and looked him in the eye. "Look, I don't know where you got this . . . this attitude from but it's going to have to stop for as long as you're around us. Maybe you forgot how to act like an Irken wherever you've been hiding yourself but we're giving you a reminder now. The next time, we're not gonna be so nice about it."

Zim didn't reply. He just glared back silently. With all his heart he longed to exact retribution for what they did to him. For all the years trapped inside the knowledge he could never, ever again be a part of his own people. However he couldn't. That's civilization, he thought. Realizing just because you can exact revenge doesn't mean you should.

Irk did it all the time. So did the human United States of American. Irk called it counter retaliation. The US called it foreign policy. Isn't that interesting, Irkens and humans aren't different at all.

When Zim refused to speak further, Red and Purple exchanged looks. Clearly the leaders were at a loss.

Purple thought long for a moment. "Zim," he said in a low voice. "You want something from us, don't you?"

Zim narrowed his eyes. "I want nothing from you. I just want my hearing and my eyesight restored."

Red sensed what Purple was getting at and put in. "Zim, look, we're not stupid. Tell us what you want and maybe . . . I don't know . . . we'll give it to you. You know, just as a kind of 'thanks for not being dead' thing."

If it shuts them up. God, they're paranoid. "What I want you can never give me," he said ominously. "Except maybe something you can apologize for."

"Apologize?" Purple repeated. "For what?"

Zim growled. "You two have no idea do you?"

Both Irken leaders shook their heads.

"I want an apology for the Empire," Zim said carefully containing his rage. "I want an apology for all the shit that went on behind my back. I want an apology for the lie that was my mission." He fought back his emotions mightily. "That's all. If I want anything, that's what I want."

Red was completely confused. "An apology? That's it? That's all you want?! No pardon from exile, no Invader status, no nothing?!"

"No."

"Not even a new ship?" Purple asked.

"Well . . . No!" Zim shook off the temptation. "Nothing! None of it! Just an apology!"

"Hold on."

Both Tallest scratched their heads and spoke off to the side.

"Should we?"

"I suppose . . . if it's what he wants."

"You know," Purple wondered aloud. "Maybe we should ask him to stay."

"What? Are you nuts?" Red exclaimed raising his arms in protest. "This is ZIM we're talking about!"

"Yeah, well," Purple said lightly. "Look at him. He's not insane anymore. Whatever made him that way isn't making him crazy."

"True." Red glanced at the patiently waiting subject of conversation who once again set to staring at the stars. "I don't know. He's too for himself - then again he's always been like that. Plus . . ." he whispered it, "he hates us."

"Hates us?" Purple blinked confusedly and then it dawned on him. "Oh yeah. I can see. Well, what do you want to do? We've got deadlines to meet."

Red thought a moment, tapping his chin. "We'll give him his 'apology' and then tell him he can either stay or go. Leave it open for him. If stays, he stays and if he goes, he goes.

He said he was going to leave anyway."

"He did."

"So we're not losing anything here."

"Yeah."

"Okay." Red looked to Zim. "All right, Zim. You get your apology."

Zim raised an antenna. He was not expecting this development. "I want to hear you say it." He pointed at both Purple and Red. "Both of you."

"At the same time?"

"Yes."

"We're sorry for. . . " they began and trailed off.

"The lies. You're sorry for the lies." Zim was amazed at his own ability to not throttle what irked him so badly. Could it be he possessed of self-control even under these circumstances? Simply astounding in his opinion.

"We're sorry for the lies." That concluded, Purple added casually, "And you don't have to go right away. Stick around, get something to eat, you know . . . all that fun stuff."

Zim sighed. I can never win. No matter how hard I try, no matter how blunt I am or angry I get, I will never win. Irken society is ironclad and without free will. These two are as enslaved to it as those smaller than they. There's no use in getting mad at a machine.

"Thank you, my Tallest. But I seek nothing but a medic." Pause. "Can I go?"

They nodded.

Zim started toward the door.

"Wait!" called Purple, not knowing why he wanted to know this.

Zim turned, hand on the door.

"What's out there?" he asked quietly.

"Out . . . there?" Zim narrowed his good eye at them.

Red picked up on it. "There is something out there that you think is better than the Irken Empire. What is it?" He was astonished at the realization he really wanted to know this as much as Purple did.

Zim smiled suddenly and it wasn't an evil smile. It was more nostalgic and nuanced. "There is."

"What?"

Zim smiled again. "A girl."

When he left, the Tallest just looked at each other, expressions of wonderment and perplexity passing between them.

Finally Red just shook his head. "I'll be damned."

***

Back on Earth, things were no less complicated. Or rather, they were hectic. With finals coming up that week, students were scrambling to balance study time with a job. Gaz was having one such problem. Normally walking into work cheered her up but with all the concepts she'd tried valiantly to cram into her head the night before, she was feeling irritable. Since she wrote reviews for a popular GameSlave magazine, what she reviewed that day seemed to her like the market was full of crap these days. The company was really struggling creatively these past six years and Gaz vowed once she got her diploma she'd climb rank and get the company back on its feet. Come the Apocalypse, she'd be damned if she saw her favorite handheld game company go under.

She ended the day feeling like she'd wasted her time yet she rather liked the way her reviews had come out. Professional with a slightly nasty undertone warning away gamers from the affairs that reeked. Made good time in any case, her editor was just glad to get them.

Since her job was walking distance, Gaz didn't bother taking her car. She rarely drove the thing anyway, even though she pulled teeth for a parking permit and everything. A gift from her father and his vast bank account, the shiny very dark purple Neon sat there and collected pollen dust. Not that she hated the car. It just reminded her of too much of something she was trying to forget. She wished she knew what it was.

Did it have to be so cold out? Why did the sun have to set so early anyway? Gaz shivered and pulled her black coat around her. Although her eyes were downcast, she paid very careful attention to the people walking by her. Her hospital experience had awakened her mind to the dangers of the night life and her senses were always attuned. Though she never saw Bella again (a fact she was very disappointed by) she knew she would never forget her.

I don't want to go back to my dorm, she thought checking the date on her watch. Unless. . . no, okay, forget it. Lark and her girlfriends would be over right about now having a party - again without Gaz's consent. Friday nights were the warning sign nights. They were hell on campus.

Instead Gaz took a detour into a coffee shop. If she loved anything in the world anymore, it was the smell of coffee and those really big ceramic cups they served them in. This one was dark and kind of seedy looking but one couldn't be too picky. It was mostly empty except for a few people who isolated themselves in the corner. The best thing about it was, it was quiet.

Good idea. Everywhere should be like this. Gaz picked a booth, ordered a cup of some sort of latte and sat there with it. She removed her gloves so her numb fingers could wrap around the hot mug and get feeling back in them.

She wasn't aware someone sitting in a booth was watching her. At least not until she looked up and casually scanned the place. Holding back a gasp, she forced to keep herself from bolting.

It was Johnny. Goddamnit, if things couldn't get any worse, she thought. He can't be stalking me because I've never been in here before and I did this on spur of the moment-like. So it was a coincidence.

I suppose it could be worse. I could be at Lark's all-nighter. Shudder.

Please don't come over . . . oh no, he's coming over.

Gaz steeled herself. He won't hurt me, she reminded herself over and over. Johnny doesn't like touching people . . . except me and only when I let him, which is to say never again.

"The universe moves in mysterious ways," he greeted her. "Ironic isn't it?"

Gaz didn't bother looking up at him even though he was standing right there. "Maybe you can take your universal irony elsewhere."

"Ah, your bitchiness, how I've missed it," he spoke acidly. "Can I sit down?"

"Can I stop you?"

"Not really." He proved it too and sat across from her. Well, at least he didn't sit next to her.

Gaz still did not look at him. Instead she stared into the murky depths of her java. "What do you want?"

"Christ, you sound like I'm the devil or something," he said, the cat-and-mouse amusement in his voice making Gaz's stomach squirm. Even though she wasn't looking at him, she knew he was smirking. "If I want anything, it's a real answer."

"A real answer." Gaz stated it.

"Yes, a real answer," he reiterated impatiently. "Shutting off your phone doesn't stop me from wanting an answer. Okay, so I scare you. I scare everyone, Gaz, that's who I am. That's who you are too, if you wanted to be."

Gaz sighed. "Johnny, I don't want to get into your alleged deep thoughts of a higher mind discussions, as you like to call them. I came here to be alone."

Johnny thought it a mockery. "YEAH, SO'S THE WHOLE DAMN WORLD!"

Gaz finally looked up at him, outraged. "Jesus. What is your problem? Did you forget to take your meds or something?" Immediately she knew looking up was a mistake. So long as you didn't meet his eyes, you were okay. You lived to tell about it. But the moment one looked into Johnny's face, there was no turning back until it was on his terms.

Johnny resembled a grown up Dib in a few ways, like the hair and the trench coat but that's where the differences ended. They weren't even why she used to like him anyway.

He had these half-hooded eyes that brimmed with hyper-intelligence and energy that reminded her of someone else. They weren't insane eyes, in fact they were the type that looked you through and saw you for what you really were. They were windows to a cold calculating mind that had devised more ways to commit crime unnoticed than a lot of other former criminals. It had taken one hell of a detective to put him away for eight years but there was enough circumstantial evidence to seal his fate. Johnny had done broken every law except commit murder. That was his only saving grace, for as far as Gaz was concerned.

His spouts of rage were the end result of too much time communing with four gray cell walls. Having gotten so used to them, it was taking him a while to get himself under civil control again.

Johnny folded his arms across the table top and smiled when Gaz's eyes met his. That was his only answer. Unfortunately it was all it took.

Gaz felt the part of herself she often cursed starting to waver. Don't give in. Don't give in.

You did it last time. Don't do it again. If there was anyone Gaz completely disregarded the consequences around, it was him. That was one of the reasons she knew she couldn't be with him. Plus there was the teeny tiny problem of him being an ex-convict.

She took a deep, shaky breath. "Please leave me alone. We're over, okay? Over. Done. Gone. Oblivion."

Johnny didn't say anything. He just narrowed his eyes at her in a measuring manner. It was his mind game. Silence.

Gaz made two fists under the table and pinioned him with a glare. "Johnny, it is NOT going to work this time. So just stop it." Nothing. Okay, fine. I'm taking control here. I'm not freakin' helpless. Gaz grabbed her purse and got up from the table. "I hate you."

Mistake. Johnny got up and followed her to the door. Gaz stopped when they were outside. Fiercely she whirled and growled, "What is it about me that makes freaks like you want me anyway? Huh? Answer me THAT!"

Johnny halted and simply stared at her. Clearly he had not expected this from her. His mouth fell slightly open. "About you?"

"Yeah! What?" she snapped.

Johnny opened his mouth and closed it again. "I-I don't know. You're . . . different."

Gaz snorted.

He continued. "You're not . . . like everyone else. You're . . . you're real."

It was her turn to stare. Her whole mind just got stuck.

He appeared to think about what he said and then nodded. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "I'll leave you alone." Johnny turned and disappeared into the night crowd.

Gaz watched him going, feeling confused. Of all the things she expected out of life, this moment was not one of them. This sensation going through her did not belong there. And yet it did.

Gaz glanced at the stars. " 'Pur si muove.'"

Then she pulled on her gloves and walked home.