Chapter Seventeen: She Would Not Die

Mel, who was now in Zim's Voot searched in a northward direction for signs of a Voot crash, and still awaited the results of a scan she had run a few minutes ago.

"Crash detected." Her eyes lit up, and headed for the target. Unfortunately, so concentrated was her energy in finding this spot and getting to Dib in time that she didn't notice a fleet of Voot Runners in pursuit of her. An audio signal came through.

"You are an unknown craft. State your identity, purpose, and origination. Respond immediately, or be shot down." Panicked, she realized how lucky she was that there wasn't a visual--but they could always send one later. Keeping this in mind, she decided to pretend to be a Falen less than thirteen years of age.

"I am a Falen girl of 12.5, I have come to assist the wounded with medical supplies, and I have just come from Fali. Please, don't kill me. People depend on my help to live."

"These 'people' don't happen to be humans, do they?"

"No, of course not! I would never defy intergalactic law with such disobedience! Disobedience is not one of the ways of the Falish." She lied with the sound of legitimacy, and even fooled the trained officials.

"And how did you get a hold of that Voot Runner, little missy? It says on our scanners that it is a registered Irken vehicle and licensed to a certain 'Zim.'"

"Zim is one of the Irken military officials that is leading some of the soldiers to look for any survivors and terminate them. He gave me authorization to fly this Voot out for medical purposes."

"Can we confirm this?"

"Of course. I'm sure you'll find him in the listings of military personnel." She wasn't quite as certain as she sounded, though, as she knew how Zim could sometimes be slow on the uptake.

"Ah, yes...Zim. We'll contact him right away, but don't try to send a transmission yourself, or we'll suspect you of making false claims. If you do, we'll shoot you down." Mel hoped that Zim would catch on in time. She waited for several minutes before hearing a response. "All right. Your story checks out." Feeling a rush of gratitude and relief, she suppressed a sigh for fear that they might suspect Zim's falsified corroboration.

"Thank you, sir, for I am needed to be elsewhere."

"Wait a minute, you can't leave just yet."

"Why not?"

"Just one little detail...you're not Falish, you're human."

"What? That's ridiculous!"

"Not according to our scanners. Any human shows up in green, and you're green all the way."

"Then...you knew the whole time?"

"No. We don't actually have scanners. We just say that to get people to fess up after we pretend to confirm their story. Prepare to be blasted back to the Earth you came from." She gasped as the ships aimed their cannons to hers and fired. A blast that deafened all other senses made her ears unable to hear as the Voot blew apart and she was flung fifty feet into the air, landing on her back, her spine bent backward at an impossible angle. Blood seeped out of a long gash that stretched across her neck and face, and Mel caught a glimpse of the desert wasteland once before everything faded into a whitish fog.

For an instant, all sensation numbed and all pain relieved, she felt as though she was floating, apart from herself. Her awe-filled gaze was met by the girl who Zim had seen step into the path of a machine. However, she no longer looked destitute and ill with death; she looked peaceful and happy to be freed of her torment.

"You want your friends to be alive, don't you?"

"Yes...yes, I do."

"Then you don't belong here." The girl gestured behind her, "This is a place for those who have given up, thinking that nothing can be done to change the inevitable, and those who have not cared for others or given anything of themselves. This is what you'd call an underworld. I ask of them if they would like to give up and rest in peace, or try to help those in need. Since they see me as a figure of something 'heavenly,' they choose peace for themselves and not for others. They are condemned.

"Behind you, you may find what you may call a heaven--in terms to fit your mind as it is, perhaps you could call it a place for 'refueling,' so to speak, as it serves to allow those who deserve it peace for as long as they would like during their 'death.' In spite of this, many choose not to stay long, and want to get back onto their own physical realm in order to help others live. It is time for you to get back to your Earth now and save your friend."

"Thank you..."

"You are welcome, quite literally." With the feeling that she was falling backward, it all faded, and her eyes met with the burning sun. Unable to move, she closed her eyes and hoped that Zim would find her.

Hours had passed. It was now twilight, and she heard the familiar Irken marching song. Then...Zim's scratchy voice, commanding.

"What, are you slugs or something? Move it! Hurry up!"

"Sir! There's one!"

"What?"

"A human!"

"It's probably dead, you fool. Now, let's continue! A suitable resting place should be nearby somewhere!"

"Sir, it's protocol to check a fallen enemy and see if they're really dead or not. You don't want to defy protocol, do you?"

"Of course not! I'll examine the body!" Zim walked up to her, noticed it was Mel, and checked her pulse. He whispered, "I'll come back for you later, as soon as we come to a place to rest." She blinked in response, and Zim called back to his men, "Yep, this one's dead all right!"

"Let me see that!" A soldier pushed his way past the crowd and tried to get to Mel.

"Get away! This human is dead, and we can't waste time with it!"

"I'm beginning to think that you don't want this human dead."

"Of course I do! She is already dead!"

"No, sir, she isn't. She's alive. I'm afraid you are mistaken."

"She's dead!"

"If you will not kill her, then I will!"

"No! I'd be glad to kill her myself! You were right! I made a mistake in determining her death! I'll kill this filthy myself."

"As you say, sir." The other soldiers backed away, and Zim requested a weapon. "Here you go, sir."

"A knife? Don't we have lasers?"

"No, sir. This is all we can afford."

"Oh..." Zim walked to Mel's fallen form and whispered into her ear, "I never actually switched the armor. I thought that they'd give me a laser. I'm so sorry for what I'm about to do; I'll never forgive myself." Zim held the knife high above her and sent it crashing down across her ribs. He thrust it into her shoulder and stabbed her arms. She did not die.

"Why, Zim...?" She would not die.

"I must kill you. I'm just trying to make is as painless as possible." He slit her neck, and her heartbeat slowed. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Well? Is she dead or isn't she?"

"She's dead now." Zim led his men out of the area and they set a camp nearby.

Dib's vehicle had crashed not far from there, but his foot was stuck under a large chunk of debris. Now that nighttime was nearing, he thought about death. Death--the one thing that had ruled his life for the past month. His death, the death of others, the death of his planet... As he quit struggling, he resigned himself to death. He closed his eyes and thought of what his life might have been like had he never been Falish...life saving the Earth from Zim, life being a paranormal investigator, life as a human...everything he thought he'd have. Nothing was his anymore, except for his life, and even that was dissipating into nonexistence.

His life was misery now. With nothing else on the horizon, death seemed a release from pain and suffering. Zim would probably gain power and rule over the Earth as a snack-planet. Mel would decide that he was just a part of her past and live her life as Queen of the Snack-Planet. She'd be rich and successful, forgetting all about what Earth used to be. The vast oceans and endless skies, the woodland creatures and ocean shore ecology. Would she remember any of it? Or would she just move on and forget her humanity?

Dib felt a sudden, inexplicable rush of purpose, a feeling of being needed, and thought of another way to free himself. Digging furiously at the loose soil and intermingled sand for at least twenty minutes, a small opening presented itself. He dragged his broken foot out and got out on the open dirt. Running as quick as a camera flash, he headed toward the approximate direction of Zim's base. Persistently attempting to ignore the stinging pain that shot up his injured leg at every step became a rigorous task, one that he felt he could not keep up for another moment, but still overcame this and tore through the increasing winds like a bullet through tissue paper.

As he came upon the Voot crash, he knew the reason for his determination. Mel's vision hadn't come true twenty years in the future--it came true in the present.

"Mel, is that you?" He ran up to her, saw what had happened, and checked her pulse. She was still alive. "You didn't die. You won't die." Taking her hand, he smiled, and knew irrefutably that she would live. Miraculously, her knife wounds began to heal over, and her heartbeat quickened to a normal pace. Her eyelids fluttered open as though awakening from a deep sleep, and he helped sit her up against the Voot wreckage.

"Dib? Is that you? Am I dead?"

"No, you're not dead. You're alive." Some fireworks shot up into the sky, draping the Earth in a blanket of red and purple with the Irken symbol standing out against it.

"It might've been a dream, but I was dying from the explosion, and I was sent back to revive you. I don't understand that, though, because you saved me."

"If you hadn't been injured here, I wouldn't have tried to free myself. I would've died there."

"So...in a way, we saved each other."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"I'm sleepy." She yawned and lay facedown on the sand. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He kept watch during the night, and when daytime came, he slept and she kept watch. After they were both well rested, they went back to Dib's ship to get emergency supplies.

"Hey, Dib, what's this?" she asked, holding up the charred remains of what looked like a book.

"I don't know; let me see that." He took the book, brushed some of the dust off of it, and read the title. "Alien Update. This is the book you loaned me."

"Whoa...it sure looks different from the last time I saw it." She tried to open it, but it crumbled in her hands. "That's too bad. That book was one of my Christmas gifts."

"Your books are probably the only things we have left of humanity."

"Yes...the only artifacts, that is. But really, the greatest legacy a human can leave is their mark on the universe. But we've changed the course of the future, that's the true legacy and it can never be touched. You're right. We're alive. All of us are alive. That's what counts. My vision was true, and yet it was false. Ideally false."

"You're right."

"I'm so thirsty! Isn't there any water around?"

"No, not that I know of."

"Maybe Zim will have something for us."

"Zim?! He tried to kill you yesterday!"
"Yes, but he didn't want to. I'm sure he'd be relieved if he knew I was alive."

"Okay. We'll go tomorrow morning."

When you are convinced that you're about to die, that your life is over, you think of things you may never have thought. It leaves a profound mark on someone, a mark that cannot be seen from the outside, but something that must be sensed on the inside.

Before one can understand the motivations of a human, they must first be aware of their immense ignorance of not only the world and universe around them, but of logic and themselves. What humanity can perceive out of all things to be known and understood is a far more incomprehensible percent than the most distant stars in relation with the Earth, something which most likely will never be put into true perspective for humanity.

Animals are thought of as primitive, but they are in touch with the most complex workings of nature and what it is to truly have a grip on life and death. They understand the cyclic pattern of all life, and are simple organisms thus. However, evolution itself is survival of the fittest, no matter how simple or "primitive" it is. So, in a way, creatures become "more evolved" like humans, and then back to the old ways as true evolution would have. In this way, there is no ultimate point of evolution, for it is yet another cyclic motion the universe runs on rather than the one-direction path that many perceive it as.

Life and death are thought of as antonyms. If they are antonyms, they're the most similar antonyms I've ever heard of.

--Invader Mel's Diary of Perception