Chapter Eighteen: The Phantom Wandering

Mel and Dib left early in the morning so they would not get too dehydrated. They packed the food salvaged from Dib's mangled ship and were on their way long before dawn. By the time they reached the remains of the Voot Mel had used to travel, it was around 2:00 in the morning.

"Are you sure that's the way they went?"

"Positive." She pointed out into the distance, facing a southeasterly direction, and sat down on a large boulder to rest. "Hey, Dib? I was just wondering something."

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever thought of setting up some kind of school for the paranormal?"

"I don't think I've thought of it, but it sounds like a good idea."

"Yeah, because I've always kinda liked teaching, and I was thinking that it might be a good direction to go if we...well, live through this. I mean, how well is planet Fali aware of that stuff? I mean, sure, aliens are common knowledge and nothing unusual, but what about other things, like ghosts and other psychic phenomena? You never really know.

"Do they have establishments for such things? I've only heard of one accredited parapsychology course on Earth, and it's at John F. Kennedy University in California...or was, I should say. What's it going to be like on Fali in those regards?"

"I'm not sure. Who knows, maybe we could introduce it to them."

"Quite a project. I wonder how open the general public would be to the unknown there. Or is it even unknown to them?"

"We'll just have to find out."

"Yeah. That is, if we ever get out of this place...I wonder if anyone else is gonna survive besides us."

"After we get water from Zim, we could always check. We could save those still alive and bring them to Fali. Oh, wait...we can't bring them to Fali..."

"Why not?"

"The reason you had to be taken back here...you can't breathe in our atmosphere." For the first time, it dawned upon her that her friend was an alien. She said he was a Falen/Seraul loosely, but it never had really impressed upon her in the way it should have.

"Oh...there must be something we can do...where else could I go, anyway? I don't want to stay here on this death-planet."

"Maybe Zim will come up with something. I'm sure he's dealt with this type of thing before. Come on. We should go now."

"You're right. We can talk about it on our way." As they walked on the barren wasteland, as it had become, they saw corpse after corpse, all unmoving. Mel checked each pulse carefully and looked for respiratory signs. None were present. Walking through that graveyard they once called home was eerie, and it sent shivers down their spines. Mel was tense and grew very pale in the midst of death. Screams were heard, but no one was around. It seemed that the dead had left a psychokinetic mark on the slaughter sites, and their yells of anguish and horror echoed in their minds. "I can't stand this! I can't take this! All this death! All for snacks! I can't believe this! I'll go insane!"

"Mel, don't worry! There's nothing you can do about it! Calm down. The death is over. It's just an echo."

"I know that...I can't...I can't...I don't..."

"I understand. Now let's move. It's dehydration that's getting to us."

"I'm so cold..."

"We'll get there soon. Just keep going."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'm not going to remain alive when all these people have died. I don't deserve special treatment."

"Keep going. We'll get water soon. Then we'll be able to help people."

"All right." They kept walking, wondering if they'd ever find Zim. An hour passed. "I can't keep going. I'm too thirsty..."

"Don't talk then. You'll waste your energy."

"Thirsty..."

"Swallow your saliva. That might help your throat a little." As they neared the site where the lasers had first struck, they saw crowds of people wandering around aimlessly.

"Hey! Come here! We lived too! Look, Dib! People! They lived!"

"Mel, those aren't people."

"Yes, they are! Look!"

"They aren't living...they're..."

"Oh."

"They're only shadows of the living. Haunting the site. Replaying the same actions they did when looking for loved ones, just before they themselves died." It was depressing, seeing the forms of those once living, still hunting for their lost relatives and friends. People of all ages were wandering, from the elderly to the infants. This phantom world...this was once Earth. She contemplated on this, wondering if it was like this every time a planet was massacred.

Soon, they came upon Zim's campsite. It was nearing 4:00, when the soldiers awoke from their tents and scoured the planet for more survivors.
"I'll go find Zim. You stay here."

"You're just saying that because I'm a girl."

"I'm saying that because you're my friend. Now, stay here. I'll find him."

"Okay. You know, you really look different now that your Falish characteristics have set in."

"Really?"

"Yeah...it's a good kind of different, though. I like it."

"Thanks." He searched for Zim, but didn't have any luck until he was stopped from behind.

"What are you doing here, ika?" It was Zim. Dib turned around, and Zim saw who he had just halted. "Oh, uh...hi, Dib...nice weather today, isn't it?" At these words, Dib seized Zim, grabbing him by the shirt collar, and threw him to the ground.

"Why did you do that to Mel?! Why did you try to kill her?! Huh?! I thought you said you'd never do that!" Dib continued to yell at him, including a number of curses I'd rather not list, until finally he'd punched Zim repeatedly in the jaw, leaving him with a bloody nose. "What were you thinking?! You stabbed her, you cut her neck, you...I feel like killing you! Don't ever get near her AGAIN, you sick, twisted--"

"She's not dead?"

"No, thank goodness! I'd have just killed you if she were. No...I found her just in time."

"She was as good as dead when I left her, though."

"Sometimes things don't work out the way you'd like them to, Zim. Now, I'll let you go if you give her water and find some way for her to stay on Fali with me. I wouldn't trust her around you."

"I could call some of the guards right now, and they could kill you."

"Yes, but...well, that option wouldn't be so pleasant if you value your life..." Dib pulled out a knife from his coat pocket and pressed it to Zim's neck. "One word out of you to get their attention, and you die. Now, help us."

"For the meantime, since they're getting up right about now anyway, I've got an extra tent you could hide in, but you couldn't talk or even move in there."

"Okay... There's a start. What about water?"

"I don't have any of your precious water!"

"Find some!" He pressed the blade closer to Zim's neck.

"All right, all right; I'll get you some stupid water."

"And find a way for Mel to breathe on Fali."

"I can't do that!" Dib cut into Zim's neck a little.

"Is that your final answer?"

"I'll find a way!"

"Good. Now, I'll hide, and you tell them to go find another location without you. You're going to stay here and help us."

"I never even intended on harming Mel, Dib-ika!"

"Until I know that for sure, this is a precaution I'll have to take." He shoved Zim to the ground and ran for where Mel was. Zim, fortunately, instructed his men to go on without him, and appointed a new leader for them. Once the coast was clear, he waved on Dib and Mel. "She's dehydrated, Zim, badly. Water is the first priority."

"All right, I didn't know it was for her." From behind him, Zim pulled out a canteen full of water. Mel drank from it gratefully until there was about three-quarters of the original amount left, and then handed it to Dib.

"I always was known for my charitable qualities." They saved the second half for later, when they might need it to a greater degree than merely requesting it on a whim.

"What do you need now, Mel?" Zim asked.

"Maybe some cover. I didn't sleep last night, too."

"This is my last emergency tent," he said as he showed them a little remote control.

"That's a tent?"

"Put this little drill thing in the ground and press the button."

"Oh." She did so, and they had an Irken tent, perfectly made. "Zim, why don't we work things out inside the tent? I've been outside since my Voot was shot down." Inside, Zim tried to describe the complications of altering a creature's lungs to be able to breathe another atmosphere.

"It is a risky operation, but it just might work. The Falish and the humans have similar breathing mechanisms."

"Zim, just make sure you don't botch the surgery, or Dib will kill you. Literally."

"Okay. I just hope I have sufficient materials."

"You'd better!"

"So," Dib began, turning to Zim, "once this operation is through, she'll be able to breathe both atmospheres?"

"She should. The Falish have more tolerant lungs than humans. That's how you've been able to exist here your entire life, Dib-ika."

"Oh." The three of them stood there, glancing at one another every now and then. "Uh, when's this going to be?"

"Right now, if you'd like."

"Okay, but you'd better know what you're doing, Zim! If you do anything, and I mean ANYTHING wrong, I'm placing the blame on you, and you're going to be dead before you can blink." Zim gulped.

"You'll have to wait outside, ika, or I'll lose my concentration. It's a very delicate operation, and I can't have you screwing me up."

"What?! What if you try to kill her?! I won't be able to stop you!"

"Unless you want there to be a problem where she won't ever be able to talk again or something, you'd better stop getting me angry!"

"All right, I'll go. Just be careful."

"Of course I will. I didn't want to hurt her." Dib left the tent, and Zim lay her down on a slab of rock. "I'm sorry about the crudeness of this...you'll have to be conscious."

"Don't Irkens carry around anesthetic during warfare?"

"Yes, but that would be poisonous to you. It's either this or nothing."

"What is involved, exactly?"

"Well, I'll have to clear some of your throat passages, widening them in some areas, thickening in others, altering the configuration of some nerves--"

"You're gonna stick your hand down my throat and cut it up blindly?!"

"No! I've got a mechanism that goes in and does the work."

"Oh, okay."

"It's going to hurt a lot, but you've got to keep perfectly still."
"I'm good at keeping still."

"Good. That may be the difference between life and death. And try not to scream. Not only would it disrupt the operation and perhaps render you mute, but also the Dib-ika would probably come in and ruin everything. It's my job to guide this thing so it doesn't tear your esophagus into pieces. Don't worry. Everything will be fine. Painful, but fine."

"All right, Zim. I think I'm ready. But couldn't Dib be in here? I'm sure that he's less likely to disrupt the operation if he knows what's going on."

"Oh, okay. Dib, you can come in!"

"Is it already over?"

"No! Mel just said that it'd probably be best if you were in here so she doesn't scream in pain."

"That's not what I said, Zim!" Mel told him angrily.

"Be quiet! Well, Dib-ika, she just wants you to see what's going on. She knows what's happening, so don't pester me with questions when I'm trying to operate."

"I won't pester you! I don't want her to be hurt either!"

"Just stay put."

"Can't I do anything to help?"

"Yes, you can hold her head still to make sure that she doesn't move. Mel, keep your mouth as wide open as possible." Dib did so, and she kept her mouth open. "This will hurt a lot, but you mustn't scream!" Zim pressed a button and guided the metal arm down her esophagus. He controlled it with buttons and a joystick, and there was a view of the inside of her throat. It was excruciating, and if it weren't for Dib keeping her from moving, it would've hurt worse, for the mechanical arm would've torn the fragile tissue. "Almost done...there. That should be good." The arm retracted, and Mel breathed a sigh of relief. She fell sound asleep without a moment's notice.

"Got any blankets?" Dib asked, facing Zim.

"Eh? Why?" When he pointed to Mel, Zim nodded. "I might have something. I'll be right back." The Irken left and returned shortly afterward with a thick, quilt-like blanket and wrapped it around Mel, then tossed Dib a scratchy and stained green one.

"This is a blanket?" He held it up against him, but it only reached to his knees. "It looks more like a napkin than a blanket to me."

"Be grateful that you're alive, Dib-ika."

"What, you don't like the Falish species either?"

"Not since I found out that you're one." Dib threw the blanket over Zim's head in anger.

"I don't need a blanket anyway. I'm keeping an eye on you. I can't afford to blink."

"Suspicions can destroy; prejudices can kill."

"What, now you're quoting Rod Serling?"

"Yes."

"You're just being hypocritical when you say that; you're the one who's prejudiced against humanity and the Falish, you know."

"Hmm...I never thought of it that way."

"Well, you are."

"Hey, now that I've wiped out humanity, the only one left is Mel, and I like her."

"So now it's just the Falish."

"I guess."

"Zim, is it normal that after the eradication of a species you see them walking around and screaming?"

"You mean the Phantom Wandering?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Of course. The planet is in touch with its inhabitants, and when they die, it helps kill the world."

"So that's why everything's drastically different..."

"However, the planet has a kind of replay mechanism, and that helps sustain it longer. Sometimes it is very brief and only once, but other times it's repetitive and lasts for years. You should know, Dib-ika; you've talked enough about it during Ms. Bitters' class when you weren't yelling your head off about me."

"I have?"

"Yeah, only you called it something else...ghosts, spirits--that stuff."

"The Phantom Wandering...and to think...the three of us could've been a part of it."

Zim was hasty to kill off humanity, but he didn't look at the logical sides of the matter. Murder is a greatly misunderstood concept, especially those who wish it on other people or commit the act themselves. For it is not the fact that they die that brings guilt, but it is our subconscious knowing that its desire for that death or their actual physical actions is often the cause of that death by method of psychokinesis or the 'fate circumstance.' This set of theoretical laws of physics indicates that when someone wants something so badly, they will unwittingly make the conditions right for the death or other desire to occur. Zim, along with his guilt, probably are the result of the 'fate circumstance,' and sometimes it is thought that a higher mechanism of the mind may be at work, trying to teach the conscious mind a lesson about death and what a life is really worth.

Sometimes, what we've desired most ends up to be our worst nightmare.

--Invader Mel's Diary of Perception