***

In the ensuing period after the abrupt, flagitious attack on the Massive, the Tallest were probably the most stressed out of all the Irkens. Not nearly as stressed out as the ones doing all the work but they were certainly chewing over all the horrible reports coming in every three seconds. Fire here, fire there, this many dead here, this many dead there. This many ships destroyed, this many people hurt. Where access to certain sectors was cut off, what sectors were still functioning. The reports just kept flowing. Finally Red had to shut off about half the communication screens just to keep whatever sanity he and Purple had left.

"Can you believe this?" he spoke in a hushed voice, staring at one screen that showed the inside of a very vital sector. It was in complete annihilation. There were Irkens in what looked like haz mat suits spraying liquid over blue and green colored fires bursting from ruptured tanks. 

Purple sat slouched down in a chair, his fingers folded together before him. His light had gone out. "No."

Red finally forced himself to tear his eyes from the screen. "We're going to be expected to give a speech on the attack. We're going to have to give people a reason this happened."

Purple nodded. He didn't speak.

Red crossed the room and collapsed on the chair beside his co-ruler's. He rubbed at his sinuses. "I can't think of anything." His shoulders slumped. "I really think we're stuck for an excuse this time."

Purple remained silent for a long time. Finally he brought something to his friend's attention. "They stopped attacking when they could have wiped us out. In another few minutes the ship's core would have detonated, causing a thermonuclear explosion. The attack was obviously focused on making that happen."

Red glanced at him. "Yet it didn't."

"Why do you think?"

"Maybe that was the whole point." Red scratched his chin, a frown crossing his face. "But why do that? Why waste that kind of power if you're not going to destroy your enemies with it? What would be the use of just scaring us?"

Purple shrugged. "Maybe they were compromised."

"Compromised by what?" Red interjected sarcastically. "We weren't exactly at our best out there so it couldn't have been anything WE did."

Purple bit down and thought about it more seriously. "It couldn't have been a scare tactic. That I'm sure of." He got up and pointed to a monitor. "Look at this." Pressing a button, he switched screens. "This is what the radar looked like BEFORE the attack ended." The screen had a large blip on it with several smaller blips. "And this," he switched it again, "this is what it looked AFTER." The screen had all the tiny blips but . . .

"The Resisty mother ship is gone." Red gasped. "That flash of light we saw! It exploded!" Delight and confusion filled him. "Someone saved us."

Purple cast doubt. "Perhaps they messed up. That weapon they were firing at us was stolen from Vort scientists, which means they stole it from US."

"But it wasn't the kind of weapon that caused the ship that was using it to explode," Red disagreed. "The Vort may be lousy at defending themselves but they're good at making reliable weaponry. No, I think someone saved us."

Purple shut the monitor off. "If true, then who? Who could have been smart enough to sneak up on the Resisty without being noticed?"

"I wish I knew." Flummoxed, Red rubbed the back of his neck; he felt worn out and longed to be unconscious for a little while. "Irk doesn't have many allies." He sounded subdued when he admitted this. "We're not exactly the most popular race in the universe."

Purple shrugged, gesturing it off with one hand. "Feh. Inferior beings are always jealous of superior might. Like I always say, it's better to join the ranks of your oppressors than be conquered by them."

"You NEVER say that."

Purple made a face. "I aim to."

The door at the end of the Tallest personal chamber opened and a high-collared technician with dark blue eyes poked his head in. "My Tallest?"

They turned to him, the usual annoyed boredom fully presenting itself. "What is it?"

"There is someone here to see you."

Purple rolled his eyes. "EVERYONE wants to see us. It's a given!"

Red answered. "Tell him he'll have to wait. We're busy right now."

"Okay." The technician disappeared and then poked his head back in a few seconds later. He started to sweat. "He, uh, he insists on speaking with you."

Purple shrugged with his hands when Red looked to him in exasperation. "Hey, telling the public that we're always here with an open ear was YOUR idea. I want no part of this."

Red scrowled and made two fists at his sides. "Fine. Let him in." He muttered to Purple, "You'll pay for this."

Purple only grinned and drank his soda. The grin fell from his face when their guest stepped into their chamber. Collectively both him and Red exhaled: "Zim?!"

Defiant as always, Zim stood to attention. Years of military training to stand up straight and look good were one of the few things managing to hang on to this former soldier. That and the trademark arrogance.

"I knew it. What do you want now?" Red asked him, not bothering to hide his contempt for the non-invader. "Wasn't an apology and medical treatment good enough for you?"

"Yeah!" Purple agreed around a mouthful of something better left unidentified. "Really!"

A faint frown wrinkled Zim's brow. Other than that, his expression remained neutral. "Perhaps I made a mistake," he said after a sustained pause. "True, the decision was all mine. I could've not done it, then again, what kind of an Irken would I have been if I just let the enemy destroy my home?"

Red caught the implication a lot faster than Purple did and his mouth dropped straight through clear to his feet. He tried to get a word out edgewise and wound up simply and quite pathetically pointing at Zim.

Zim shook his head. "I can see from the dumbfounded expressions on your superior and resplendent faces you've already guessed." He made a cutthroat gesture. "I expect no thanks or credit. Praise and reward who you will or not, it makes no difference to me." Zim's figure squared in barely contained rage and he started to stalk out the door.

Purple stood and reached out. "Wait!"

Zim stopped, back still to his leaders.

Helplessly he exchanged a look of defeat with Red. "Zim, come back."

Zim shook his head and silently approached his leaders. For the first time the Tallest saw the anguish in him, surprised they hadn't seen it before. It would have made them cry, hadn't their lives of pampering and self-centeredness dissuaded them from any articulation of sympathy. But they did feel one thing and it horrified and shamed them at the same time. They exchanged a silent agreement. It was the best thing to do and more rightly it was something they realized they should've done from the beginning. It would end their problems with this one particular Irken who had been their most secret source of embarrassment and shame.

Red nominated himself for the event. He came close to Zim and spoke guardedly. "All right, let's end this."

Zim's narrowed eyes widened in disarmed shock. He caught himself and eyed his leaders warily. "What is this?"

Purple eventually came in. "Zim, you're excused. Your record is cleared. Look, I'll clear it in front of you." He went to a computer and pulled up Zim's file. No one had touched it in years so the word BANISHED was still superimposed over Zim's image. One touch on the screen and the word vanished. He turned back to him. "See? I even undeclared you dead."

"As an added bonus," Red supplemented. "You've been given full work status. Whatever profession you want, is yours."

Zim looked from one leader to another. "Why are you doing this?"

Both leaders exchanged looks.

"Look," Purple began. "We'll never be on good terms. Can we agree on that?"

No answer.

"So," Red said with a little sigh punctuating the word. "The Empire doors are open to you. If you ever need it for any unthinkable reason, if you've got nowhere else to go or are just plain desperate, it's here for your use. Okay?"

"It's the least we can do. You saved Irk, Zim," Purple admitted reluctantly. "We had to give you something."

Zim didn't say anything for a long time. Gradually he looked from one leader to the other. Then he simply turned around and started to head out the door. Completely confused, Red and Purple called out to him.

"Zim!" Red put himself between the door and the former invader. "Look, we just gave you back your life! Don't you have ANYTHING to say?"

The slighter shorter individual set his jaw and stared fixedly at him and then turned to Purple and back again. "You two are incredible." There was no gladness. "Did you hear not one word I said? I want NOTHING."

"If you wanted nothing," Purple said accusingly. "Then why did you come up here and tell us you saved the Empire? Someone who doesn't seek recognition for that doesn't come and tell anyone about it."

"Besides," Red said in a very dark and strict tone. "We would have had to do this anyway." He jabbed Zim in the chest. "If anything happens to Purple or me, you HAVE to come back here."

"Why?" Zim asked in a vicious whisper.

Purple growled. "Have you measured yourself recently? Zim, after us, you're the tallest Irken in the Empire."

The Irken's face grew pale. "I'm . . . you mean . . ."

"Yes."

Amazing. Even after making what he was clear before them the last time he stood, they still didn't seem to understand. Zim backed toward the door and pointed at them. "NEVER! I am Zim and Zim's life is his own!" He started to yell. "WHY DON'T YOU HOLD ELECTIONS OR UTILIZE A DEMOCRACY!?" In a carefully contained voice wrought of rage, he continued. "I will not be manipulated like this. Do what you will but leave me out of it. "

"But maybe you could change that," Red said cautiously, actually starting to feel a little afraid of the mix of pain and hatred in Zim. "Ever crossed your mind while you were so brutally rejecting us?"

"And saving us!" Purple added with false cheer.

Zim appeared thrown although it didn't shake his conviction. Finally without waiting for dismissal, he left the chamber.

The Tallest watched the door swing closed as they watched yet again as Zim left them behind.

"Thank you, Zim," Red said softly. "I'm sorry." Without looking at him, he spoke quietly to his co-ruler. "A kingdom founded on injustice never lasts."*

Purple nodded sadly, went to the computer and closed the file.

***

The sea of stars was a welcome sight to him. Soon as they were out of Irk's solar system, Zim set the course and let the cruiser take on automatic pilot. Unless some unseen danger came directly in their path, they could feasibly sail the rest of the way to the Milky Way on it.

Gir spent time alternately singing and sleeping. Sometimes he started conversation about the tiny things that went through his mind or outside of it. Other times he played with the toys he brought with him in the back. Inexplicably he'd come up front where Zim sat thinking (or comatose) and give him a hug once every while.

Zim thought about a lot of things. It was all there was to do really. He thought about the Tallest and his record being cleared. He thought about his part in the battle. He thought about his future in the Irken Empire - a future he once thought forever lost to him. Tallest Zim. God, the whole concept. He sat back and propped both feet up on the dashboard and crossed his ankles. I could never lead the Empire, he thought. The way it runs itself I can't abide by. The changes I want to make would destroy our species. Too soon and too fast. The Control Brains wouldn't be able to handle it. I don't think they'd allow it anyway. Why would they? The Empire system may be brutal, unfair and too domineering but the thing is it works. It sucks but it works - and no one complains about it. Except for the mistakes. Mistakes like me. Like Tak.

It really had been good to see her again. He felt her longing keenly and something told him they'd meet again - and it would be under better circumstances. She reminded him of better days, past victories, the chase of the mission that had been all too real to him. Battles won and lost to fight another day. She even reminded him of the short-lived alliance he made with Dib. He never liked to say it but for the week Tak had almost taken his mission, he'd needed an ally badly. Someone who could help him save the earth, who would do it despite contrary reasons for why. When it came to saving that planet from outside invaders, he realized, the best thing you could have on your side was Dib.

Thinking about his dead enemy returned him to the revelation he'd made to himself before. The power he held if he chose to wield it, the power he never knew he possessed for so many long, painful years. The power that, had he used it sooner, would have prevented so many other things from happening.

It wasn't a question of if he could use it. It was a question of if he should use it. Do I have that kind of right? What if using it only made things even worse than they are now? What if it didn't matter what I did, it would still happen? Can I make that kind of decision? Should I really have that kind of control over life?

If he used it, then there were things that would not happen. Good things. One good thing that would never happen hadn't the one bad thing that happened.

Can I make that kind of sacrifice? Neither of us would ever know because it would have never happened. There's nothing to miss.

It could still happen . . . couldn't it?

No, he reasoned flatly. There would be someone between us then, someone who would do everything and anything in his power to protect what was closest to his heart. If he wasn't there, it would happen. If not, there would be no chance.

"It either him or me," Zim said aloud to Gir when the robot came back beside him. "Gir, can I ask you something?"

Gir smiled. "Kay."

"What did you think of Dib?"

Gir thought a moment. "He was nice."

He'd given that reply once before. Zim wanted to know why now. "Why? Why did you think he was nice?"

The robot thought again. "I don't know. He loved his planet." Gir shrugged. "He liked pizza. He liked Gaz. I like pizza and I like Gaz." He squealed like a monkey. "Whee-hoo!"

"Gir! Focus!" Zim shouted, caught himself and calmed down. No need to get hysterical now. "Would you like to see him again?"

Gir jumped up. "Kay!" He looked around and his face became sad. "But he's dead. No more big head boy."

Maybe he's more in touch with reality than I thought. "Yes. He is." Zim sat back. "Go play."

Gir grinned and disappeared in the back again.

I can't make this kind of decision, he thought. I need to talk to someone else about it. I'll ask her when we get back to Earth. It's the only thing I can think to do about it right now.

***

Zim held Dib against the wall. They were in his house in Zim's living room. Dib struggled to get free but his feet weren't touching the floor. Zim held him by his collar, twisting the fabric around his claws to constrict the human's movements. Dib stared holes of hate into Zim's impassive red eyes.

"You'll never get away with it!" Dib gasped with some effort. "I'll never give up, Zim! NEVER."

Zim tightened his grip and shoved him a little harder. "Home invasion is against the law, earth boy. Perhaps I should call your police and have them remove you from the premises. Whatever you think I will 'get away' with, I will get away with that." He almost pressed his face against the boy's. "As for your giving up, I don't expect you too."

Dib said nothing. He just kept struggling.

Zim laughed. "It's no use. I'm a lot stronger than you are."

"Physically maybe," Dib growled. "But I don't think you are mentally."

Zim frowned a little. "What makes you say that?"

The human gave him a nasty grin. "Let's just say I see what you're like when you're cornered."

"What am I like?"

Seeming to realize something, Dib kept the disturbing grin on his face. "You're scared of me."

Taken aback, Zim only widened his eyes.

Seizing on his silence, he went on. "Underneath every face of bravado there's a coward waiting to come out."

Zim transferred his claws to Dib's throat. He had the distinct satisfaction of seeing the startled fear flicker across the human's face. Panic took its place when the alien's claws started to squeeze.

"No!" he really started to freak out. "No . . ." he mewled clutching at Zim's wrists trying to remove them. Zim threw him to the floor and sat on top of him, pushing his head against the carpet. His next request was a strangled gasp. "Please . . . please don't kill me."

Zim smiled evilly. It felt so good to be in this position. He had the power now, he had it. A little bit more and Dib would die under his bare hands. No robots. No weapons of any kind. His bare hands. So easy . . . humans were so easy to kill . . .

Zim squeezed even more, watching Dib's eyes bulge. He watched his grasping hands slowly disengage themselves from Zim's wrists. He watched the light in his enemy's eyes start to fade.

One more squeeze and he'd be dead. One more minute. It would be over.

Then it hit him suddenly. No. It can't be over. This is way too easy.

Zim released Dib and got off him. He stood over the human as he coughed, gagged and gingerly touched his bruised larynx. Dib sat up and coughed deeply several times, sucking in oxygen.

"Get out."

Dib got to his feet and swayed some. Rubbing his throat, he stared incredulously at Zim, unable to speak yet.

Zim went to the door and opened it, pointing outside to make sure Dib understood what he meant. "Leave. Now."

Dib walked slowly to the door and paused. He looked at Zim in another display of disbelief. Then suddenly he smiled. Not his usual evil smile but the kind of smile a person usually made when he's discovered something he always suspected he wanted to be true.

Zim saw it too and it enraged him. "GET OUT!!"

Dib did and without a word.

Zim slammed the door shut and punched himself in the head. "It can't possibly be true."

It was.

***

In other parts of the galaxy, there are always more dilemmas going on. Some, like with Irk, were huge beyond scale and life changing for the people involved. Others like with Gaz bringing Johnny home, weren't beyond scale but they were life changing just the same.

She couldn't believe she let it happen. Not even the one who was drunk and she still let it happen. Her only hope was that he wouldn't remember.

How in the world had it happened? She had helped him out of the car, up the stairs and into his apartment. Where she meant to dump him on the couch and call Lark to come get her. However, for some strange reason, that hadn't gone over. Okay, the couch part went smoothly but then Johnny did something he wasn't supposed to do. He woke up. Then he hooked her wrist when she started to walk away and made her sit next to him.

"Johnny," Gaz told him firmly. "I need to go."

He sat up. Okay, this wasn't good, his eyes were clearer. Johnny's drunken incoherency and hangovers were brief and few between. It also was a clear indication he hadn't had as much as she thought he did.

His response was to grab her, hold her against him and kiss her. She pushed away, deciding a smack was too good for him. "Cut it out!" He went for her neck. "Johnny, please . . ." Oh no, he found the zipper to her jacket. "Johnny . . ." her protests grew weaker as he began doing other things. When he started kissing her again, she did it back.

Then suddenly it was like she was standing outside her body, watching herself. What are you doing?! she heard herself screaming. Get out of here! You're only making things worse!

But Gaz knew her own body. Her mind hated Johnny, loathed, despised, and feared him. But her body . . . her body wanted him, lusted for him, possessed him. She had promised herself never to let her body control her. It worked pretty well for a while there. What was happening to change that?

Something saved her from making a complete mistake. Memory.

He lay beneath her, struggling and complying with her demands. He kept trying to speak but her mouth silenced him long enough for her to get that uniform off him. Her skin touching his made her mind go even more. Her own disappeared when he tugged on her clothes as he started to give in her. He even flipped her over and took control of her and she found herself helpless and in pain. And yet not. The back of her mind screamed how wrong this was, how depraved and ungodly it was. How if nature meant for it to happen, they'd be the same. But they weren't the same, they couldn't be the same. And it was happening anyway. She didn't even like it. It felt so good and she didn't like it. She was betraying so much. Her brother's memory. Her own values. Her own society where a book would scream for her to die because of this. She wanted to stop but their bodies refused and it kept going on and on. It would stop. It would stop. But the damage would already be done.

And doing the same with Johnny was just as wrong, depraved and ungodly. It didn't matter that they were the same species because of one thing.

She didn't love him.

Before her mind went completely, she broke off the kiss and stood up, straightening her messed up clothes and mussed hair. Silently she left him there and pulled out her cell phone, walking out of the apartment as she did.

"Hi, Lark," she greeted her friend, zipping up her coat as she went down the stairs. "Johnny's home and I'm going to wait in the lobby."

"So you're not staying?" Lark almost sounded disappointed. "Man," she whistled. "Girl, you are strong."

"Well, I'm not you."

"Sure not. God." Her roommate sighed in admirance. "You've got the right stuff when it comes to ex-boyfriends. Hats off."

"Yeah," Gaz said and bid Lark farewell. She hung up and murmured, "Hats off." When she got to the lobby, she stood by the door and looked outside. Beyond the buildings. Beyond the sky.

Twenty minutes later, Lark's familiar blue Sierra pulled up to the curb. Gladdened, Gaz got in and smiled at her. She couldn't help but be internally proud of herself at shaking off a lusty temptation. It would have gone nowhere and done nothing. Nowhere and nothing good, that is. Johnny would have been in heaven. She would have been in hell.

Going to hell is not what I need right now, she thought forcing the smile to fall. What I need is to accept that money, move out of this state and turn over a new leaf. I'll be getting a career and be making something of myself. Maybe I'll finally meet a nice man who's NOT a convict, NOT insane and NOT drunk. If I get lucky, maybe he won't have any emotional problems either.

Lark and Gaz put down neutral ground by talking about the concert. They discussed what sets they liked, what silly things the band did between songs, what hand gestures they used. Lark was convinced the bandleader had looked at her and Gaz disagreed by saying unless his eyes were telescopes, he could not have seen her.

Finally, they fell silent. It was time to tell her.

"Lark."

"Hmm?"

Deep breath. "I got the scholarship."

Lark almost stood on the brakes. "You WHAT?!" Thank everything that walked and breathed they were at a Stop sign. "Seriously?! You got the freakin' grant?!"

"Yes."

Pause. "You're not taking it are you?"

Gaz waited, thinking. Then she took the plunge. "I am."

Her friend slowly eased back into traffic. "Why? I thought you could use that money to continue your education here. You even said so yourself when you were applying for it."

"I did. I've changed my mind. I think I'm going to transfer to their college. It'd be easier and I wouldn't have to take half my courses online." Gaz felt it all flow smoothly out of her. "I've been dying to get out of this state for years. Here's the best reason."

Lark didn't say anything for a long while. Not until she pulled into the college dorm parking area. Turning off the engine, she simply sat there. Gaz did too.

"Why?"

"Huh?"

Lark looked up. "What is it about this state that you hate? Is it me? Is it the college? What?"

Gaz tugged at her gloves' fingertips. "It's . . . a lot of things." She gathered her thoughts.

"Your brother's death?" Lark was quick.

Gaz nodded.

Her friend didn't say anything for a while. Finally she reached over and patted her hand. "Do whatever you feel is right. I'll miss you." Then she got out of the car and started back toward the dorm. Gaz sat there for a minute longer, thinking.

When Gaz got out, she didn't follow Lark back to the dorm. Instead she walked three rows over, found her car and got in. She really didn't know where she was going or what she intended to do when she got there. All she knew was it wasn't in the city.

She drove to a cul-de-sac and parked at the end of the street. Taking a deep breath, she got out and started walking. Pretending she was nine again on her way home from skool, she went along the sidewalk. Eventually she came to the intersection and stood on the edge of the curb. Standing there, she looked at the telephone pole. In her mind it was bent in half with a red car sticking to it. When she looked at the ground, windshield glass scattered around it in a sea of diamonds. Looking up, her hand went to her mouth.

There she was, nine years old, sitting in the middle of the street. Sitting in the sea of glass. Her tiny hands were reaching out to someone, calling. When Gaz looked she saw her brother, the last time she saw him, lying sprawled with a pool of blood under his head. His head was turned toward his sister and his hand moved in her direction. His mouth moved, saying her name without sound.

Then they were gone. Gaz turned her back to the street, soaking her tears into her woolen gloves. Quietly she cried. I did it. I came back here and I did it. I came back.

When she stopped and opened her eyes again, she gasped.

There he was. He was dead but he was here. Right there. Close enough to touch. It was like he'd been when he was alive except for a glowing halo surrounding his whole form.

Her heart pounded and she rubbed her eyes, expecting him to vanish. He didn't. Her knees were shaking as she knelt to approximate his height. Gaz's hand trembled when she reached out to touch him.

He smiled and reached out to her too. Their hands touched.

"Are you real?" she asked.

"As real as you are." The sound of his voice brought fresh tears to her. "You're not seeing things."

Gaz held her breath. "You're a ghost."

He chuckled! "I told you they were real." He gazed at her again. "You're beautiful. I always knew you'd be."

Gaz let her tears run. "Oh Dib . . . are you really here? You're not in my head talking to me like with Zim?"

"I'm not. Whatever Zim says I am, he wants me to be so I am. But to you . . ." His glasses glinted as he tilted his head at her. "You want me here."     

"I do. Oh God I do." Gaz wondered at something and made as if to poke him in the eye. The familiar irritation came out on his face and he leaned back.

"What are you doing?"

Gaz stopped. "I-I have to touch you. I'm sorry, I just can't really believe you're here."

Dib came closer and touched his sister's cheek. Gaz gasped. She could feel him. A light, cool pressure against her skin. He drew back and smiled again at the wonder in her eyes.

"How come you're here now, Dib?" she whispered. "Are you . . . do you haunt around here or something?"

"Haunt?" A wry grin escaped him. "No."

"Then I don't . . ." Gaz put two index fingers to the sides of her temple, trying to figure it out. Her mind didn't care anymore about how it was possible he was here, it now cared about why he was here. "Don't you go somewhere?"

He gave her another mysterious smile. "Yes."

"Did YOU go anywhere?"

"I did."

"Where?"

Dib's only answer was to give her a playful tap on her chin. "I can't tell you that."

Begrudgedly, Gaz nodded. Of course. Whatever it was after death, the living weren't supposed to know. "All right." She folded her fingers together and raised her amber eyes to his own twin set. "Why are you here now?"

"To make you live."

"Make me . . . live?" Gaz asked searchingly. "I don't understand."

Dib stepped right up close to her and touched her hands with his own smaller ones. She could feel the coolness of his touch through the wool. "I'm dead, Gaz," he gently continued even as she bowed her head down.

She shook her head, not looking up.

"It's been hard. I know it's been hard for you."

At that, she looked up. "I wish . . . I wish it could be different." She shut her eyes again and closed her hands around his small ones. "Oh God, Dib, could it be?" She opened them again, seized with a sudden, fierce hope. "Please."

But Dib only smiled at her. It seemed to say things to her that filled her heart with the tiniest bit of hope.

Still, even with this hope, Gaz sighed, feeling torn. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"For what?"

She took a shaky breath. "I was a horrible sister to you. You must have hated me so much."

The spirit of her brother shook his head, the smile remaining on his face. "I did . . ."

Gaz looked destroyed.

He continued. "But only as a brother hates a sister."

A tentative grin started on his sister's face. "I love you."

Dib smiled again and let her hands go. Then he was gone.

Gaz stayed where she was, letting the last of her tears come. Minutes later she was up and walking back to her car.

*Seneca