***

"We are like sheep without a shepherd

We don't know how to be alone

So we wander around this desert

And wind up following the wrong gods home." - Eagles "Learn to Be Still"

***

The evening Groom Lake went to hell began like any ordinary night. At least an ordinary a one for the stragglers of the human race living on paranoia, nerves and wits for their three meal daily requirement. The difference between the sun and moon didn't matter to a people once enslaved to the clock. Each moment passing was another second the Earth grew dangerously closer and closer to losing the masters of its ground. The war was more Armageddon than anyone would have liked to believe - although the Devil was green, small and blood eyed. And this Devil was always watching, always waiting . . .

Everyone was off somewhere else when it happened. Tragically no one knew WHEN the armada was going to attack. In the last forty-eight hours no enemy ships were detected either via radar or satellite. The Empire wasn't sending any reports to Earth either through computer or transmission. Due to several contradicting reports coming from all sides of the United States (not to mention the ones from Hawaii and Japan) intelligence was left scratching their heads in confusion. Everything LOOKED right. Yet there was the general pervasive feeling NOTHING was right.

That's what kept the whole planet wide-awake.

Gaz, being one of those poor individuals trapped behind computer screens with both eyes open and both hands tied, was stressing over the competing reports for hours. Totally dedicated to her post, she was the only technician still up around twelve in the morning. Sitting alone in the NASA sized control room three floors underneath the ground; she hunkered over one of hundreds of glowing terminals. Bent over like an old woman, she perched in the plastic chair, her eyes focused utterly on the paper before her. On the edge of her nose perched reading glasses: years of squinting down at video game screens had taken their toll on her eyesight. Beside her workstation sat a half-eaten sandwich and a long empty Styrofoam cup. Evidence of her whole-hearted determination. Evidence of her own self-neglect.

I don't care how long I have to be in here, we will not get caught by surprise, she thought fiercely. That single thought was what kept her running throughout the hours. Her eyes were burning for want of sleep and her neck hurt like the dickens. Plus her whole body jittered controllably. Glancing at her watch, air escaped her lips. "Shit." No wonder her hands were starting to shake. Forgot to take her damn medication. Again.

Slapping down the papers, Gaz stretched. When she moved to get up, her knees buckled. Startled by this unexpectance, she gave a small cry and caught the edge of the chair. Easing down into it again, she let out a shuddery breath. It would be so easy to get sick of this, so easy to just give into it. Every day it came a little closer, a littler nearer to the breaking point. She wondered often if she suffered needlessly. Longingly she gazed into her empty Styrofoam cup, picked it up and discarded it over her shoulder. Suffer needlessly? Puh, we all suffer needlessly. Who am I to think I'm any different?

"Hey."

Gaz perked up, a little startled. She relaxed. "Oh hi, Dib."

Her brother sat beside her. She accepted the cup of coffee he handed her. "Dad told me you were working in here." His eyes flicked over her working area. "How long have you been at it?"

Gaz rubbed her neck. "I don't know. I guess I came in 'round six or so."

"It's almost one." Dib folded his long coat over his legs. "You mean you haven't taken a break since then?"

"No." Yawning she went on, "I haven't slept in over seven hours." She closed her fingers into her palms and pressed her knees together. Her brother saw her do this and fear crossed his pale face.

"Gaz, did you take your meds?"

Busted. She shook her head. If he could see her shaking, it was useless to deny it.

Dib looked worried for real now. He leaned in. "You can't wait till the last second to take them. It's VERY . . ."

She impaled him with a glare. "Don't start with that. I know. I just forget sometimes, okay?" Gaz reached into her pocket and pulled out a bottle. Taking a pill out she took it with her coffee. "I'm not stupid," she added quietly. "I know how bad it can get."

He nodded. "I just get scared."

Gaz patted him on the shoulder. "I'm okay. I'm going to be okay. This thing, I'm dealing with it. It'll go away on its own, I just need to handle it until it does." She exhaled. It was working; the shaking in her whole body was stopping.

A familiar silence passed between them. They both knew it wasn't going to go away. It never would.

"I'm going to kill him," she heard him mutter under his breath. Dark shadows leapt in his face.

Oh no. Please not tonight. Gaz touched his knee. "Dib, let it go."

He brushed her off. "I can't!" With a jerk, he stood and walked over to the enormous screen at the front of the room projecting a map of the United States. He gestured angrily. "It fucks with me all the time." Making a fist, he put it between his eyes. "Why?"

His sister spread her hands. "I was there. When they smoked us out of the New York hideout, Zim caught me. He wanted you and got me." Shrugged. "It was a shitty series of events but hey," she tried false cheer, "he let me live."

"Barely."

Gaz got up. "But I LIVED, Dib. He even told me while he was . . . doing that to me, it was nothing personal." Block out mental image, block out mental image.

What a scream. He whipped around on her. "Bullshit. If it wasn't personal, why'd he do it to you? Huh?"

"I don't know." Gaz went over to him, trying to placate him. "Look, it doesn't matter anymore. It happened seven years ago. I let it go. It's about time you did too." Over and over. They went through this argument a thousand times and he never listened. He knows I'm right, why won't he hear me?

Dib only turned his back to her. "Let it go." He barked a laugh. "That's really funny, Gaz. You ought to be a comedian." He didn't mean to sound so nasty, it just came out that way.

Gaz felt her lower jaw stiffen. God, she wanted to hurt him. She started toward him and caught herself. Forget it. Hurting him never made her feel better. Besides they were adults now and they had responsibilities to things other than themselves. Immature sibling rivalry crap needed to die in a major way between them. It was so hard dealing with him these last few years. There used to be a part of him that was happy, that could still laugh when danger bore its face. Once they'd gotten past those awful years they couldn't stand each other, it was wonderful. Even with the war breaking out, sure it would drive them apart, Gaz waited for him to abandon her and go off like the lone ranger to fight for the planet. Instead of letting him do that, she did one better. She joined him.

Now though . . . . Something was different and it had started that horrid day she'd almost died. Whatever that had killed the little boy he'd once been . . . . Whatever strange invader capable of reaching inside her brother's soul to take it without permission. . . she wanted to find and kill it herself. Her brother was nothing more than the embodiment of contempt, guilt and slowly burning out perseverance. Gone was the determination, the stamina, the energy – the life.

He was a shell of his former self.

"Dib," she started after a silence had passed. He didn't answer. "Dib, please."

Eventually he looked at her.

Hoping he'd hear her, she put her hands together, almost like she was praying. "Promise me no matter how bad it gets, you won't give in to your hate."

Silence.

"This is really important to me, Dib." She carefully hoarded her desperation inside. Generally she gestured, indicating Out There. "Look," she raised her voice. "I've put up with your BS for a lot longer than most people have had to. God knows you put up with mine." She narrowed her eyes. "Don't get me wrong, I'll put up with as much of it as I have to. But I can't put up with your giving in to this thing. I won't!"

Dib was quiet for a few more minutes longer. Then he nodded.

Yes. Okay. He's going to do it. His sister smiled. "I'm turning in." She started to leave and paused. "I'm sorry about what happened with Michelle earlier."

He shook his head and made a face. "So am I."

They laughed. She waved good night and left.

A few minutes later, Dib was gone too. An hour elapsed. No one saw the green on black screens fill with the red blips or the lights blink. No one saw the huge WARNING sign light up in a maddening orange glow.

But everyone heard the sirens.

***

The armada swept down upon Groom Lake like invisible bees. Invisible bees that shot their stingers, lasers coming from the sky like deadly bright red rain. The ground crews and night patrols scouting the perimeter were the first to see the death coming at them from the sky. Most of them died without even knowing they'd been killed. Rebel Irken soldiers knew this attack immediately for what it was and urged any human with his or her head on straight to head for the underground. Underground was the only safe place, they shouted. It would be a damned foolery to fight this one off.

Even so, Dib would think it a cold day in hell if there came the day he wouldn't fight back. The sight of those Irken symbols maddened his blood, pounded in his temple. Caught outside when the blitz of alien fire began, Dib stood for a moment, watching the vague forms of Irken ships the color of the night sky with the stars shining through their transparent cloaking devices.

A small hand with a black glove tugged on his sleeve. He looked down. A small male Irken with red eyes (who particularly had more than a passing resemblance to Zim than most others) stood beside him. His antenna twitched in crazy agitation. Dib recognized him as former Invader Spunk.

"Dib, sir!" he blubbered. "You have to get underground! Most of the civilians are already . . ."

"I'm not going underground." Dib gently tugged his sleeve out of the tiny alien's claw.

Spunk looked frightened. "But you have to!" After a millisecond, he added shrewdly. "You can't combat this one, sir."

Dib's lower jaw stiffened. Did everyone already understand him so well? All the rebel aliens seemed to. "We can't just let those bastards run us over with a fine tooth comb." He transferred his gaze from the sky to the tiny Irken. "I should have left sooner."

Spunk grabbed his sleeve again and started to tug him back toward the nearest hangar. Panic completely lit his eyes. "Please! Listen to reason, sir!"

Dib let himself be dragged, partly because all the fiery wreckage was starting to fall a little too close for comfort. A Jeep was suddenly blown sky high. Dib grabbed the tiny Irken, hugged him to his body and rolled under a large ATV vehicle. The fireball of a Jeep landed just inches away.

After untangling himself from the folds of the human's clothes, Spunk peeked out. Clearly his glassy eyes showed his fear twofold times more than it already expressed. Glancing quickly at his human savior - and new friend now - Spunk spoke. "Thank you, sir."

"Dib."

"Huh?"

The human gestured to the alien he follow him. "I don't like being called 'sir.'"

Spunk squinted one eye, crawling after the human. "You're a lieutenant aren't you?" he asked coming out behind Dib on the other side of the ATV. He brushed off his dark purple uniform (purple now to differentiate from the red ones the Empire wore).

Dib shrugged. It didn't matter to him WHAT his stupid rank was. When it came time to survival, whoever had the best idea at the moment was leader. "I could be a shoe polish clerk and it would make about the same difference." They reached the hangar and as they drew close to it, Dib leapt up and grabbed the closed door. Riding it as it went up, he jumped off and got inside. Spunk came immediately after, slapping the switch by it to close it. Despite most of the power being down, the hangar lights remained lit, casting dim shadows everywhere. Inside was what Dib was looking for: an Irken armada ship. It was the same kind the Empire was using to level Area 51.

Spunk knew Dib's intentions right away. He paused uncertainly. "Do you know how to fly one of those things?"

"Yes." Dib pointed to it. "Do you happen to know if they modified this one so humans can use it?"

"No." Spunk kicked the ground sheepishly. "That one . . . it's kind of . . . mine."

Another explosion outside. It rocked the hangar. The lights flickered. Dib hoped mightily Gaz and his father were underground with everyone else. They likely were, he'd seen Gaz go to her room shortly before the first strike shook the base and his dad always turned in early. They were safe, he repeated to himself several times. They had to be.

Dib rested a hand on its metal nose. He thought for a second and then turned back to Spunk. His eyes said it all for him.

Spunk trembled. "I-I don't know. I c-can't maneuver as well and-and . . ."

"I'll help you," Dib said desperately. "Please, we've got to do this."

The alien procrastinated for another second and then reluctantly got into the ship. Dib hauled himself in afterward, squeezing into the tiny seat. Once he'd been able to fit into these things effortlessly but unfortunately the ships were made for a one size fits all . . . all that were small. Spunk - the size of the average ten-year-old - jumped into the pilot's seat. Making a show of it, he flexed his knuckles and stretched out. "Prepare to see some bona fide flying! I may not maneuver that fast but I can fly this baby sweeter than the most experienced human pilot alive!"

"This baby?" Dib repeated watching the specially made door on the top of the hangar open with the touch of a button on the ship's onboard computer system.

Spunk shrugged and "turned the key." "Highway to the danger zone!"

Oh great, Dib rolled his eyes as the ship rose quickly off the ground. I'm stuck with an Irken who listens to Kenny Loggins! He grabbed whatever sides of the craft he could as it made a jumpy kick shoving into high gear. Mach 1 to Mach 3 in two seconds, it wasn't the world's most pleasurable feeling.

Shooting into the night sky, Dib caught a fleeting glimpse of the ground. "Jesus," he whispered, his eyes enlarging. Almost every standing structure was a ball of fire. There were a few people still running around outside - and from some of the hangars where Irken ships were kept other Irkens and human pilots had grasped the same idea, were open. Some exploded before getting airborne while others vanished behind their own cloaking devices. To the naked eye, enemy and friend were indistinguishable. Fortunately the computers told who was who using purple for the enemy and orange for the others.

Spunk was horrifically awed. "By Irk's Will, the horror!"

A shot bounced off their shield. The ship rocked violently back and forth, jarring its passengers silly.

Spunk recovered and reasserted his claws on the controls. Touching a few places, the thing shot straight up and forward. Dib banged his head. "Ow!" he rubbed it vigorously. "Want to be more careful?"

Spunk just grinned. "That's what seatbelts are for."

"This one has a seatbelt?" Dib found it and strapped himself in. "Neat." Quickly he diverted his attention to outside. "Okay, here's what we do. We stay on stealth and take out about as many Empire ships as we can. Let's try using the buddy system. In fact, we should make sure everyone else uses it too."

Spunk nodded and flew them close to another friendly fighter. He hit the transmission. "This is Invader Spunk, do you need help?"

"Invader Lura here," came a rather dulcet female voice. "I need help like a stink-beast needs a shower! This one's been on my hull since I took off!"

Dib leaned in. "How many?"

"Just one. Is that Dib?"

"Yes," Spunk replied. "He's my co-pilot." He came in close above Invader Lura's ship, her vessel only visible on radar. There was a purple ship chasing her as she kept weaving back and forth, trying to keep the thing from getting a lock on her. Spunk cut back the engines so he fell behind the enemy. "Okay, Dib, hit it!"

Dib touched the firing mechanism. The laser nailed the Empire ship in the back, blew off an exhaust outlet and sent it plummeting Earth bound where it would promptly explode.

Wasting no time on celebration, they caught up with Invader Lura and together they mowed on through whoever attacked them, using various techniques. Dib thought for them, his mind clicking and humming away at strategies. Allowed to keep an almost outside vigil, it enabled Spunk to concentrate on perfecting his maneuvers while the human figured out the next turn and fired the lasers.

"Is that all of them?" Lura asked tentatively after ten solid minutes of playing dodge-the-laser-beam with the last ship. "What's your thing say?"

Dib looked at the 3-D screen before him. "Air space within the next three miles is clear. I wouldn't relax though, this has happened before. Next thing you know, they're all over you again."

"Tell me about it." Pause. "Thanks a lot you two. Spunk, I owe you one."

Spunk colored. "Nah, it wasn't nothing. Wait," he frowned. "You OWE me one?"

"Yep."

"You do not!" Helplessly perplexed he looked at the human. "What does she owe me?"

Dib chuckled and gave his new friend an affectionate push on the side of the head. "She owes you the same for what you did for her just now."

"Oh." Spunk felt stupid. He brightened. "Thank you too, Lura."

The female alien was laughing throughout the entire transmission. "Welcome. Thank you too, Dib. Couldn't have done it this good without you."

Dib blushed. Didn't matter the species or the age, he still turned red whenever a female complimented him. Winning over the opposite sex with his prowess and skill was sort of important to Dib. Probably came from all those times he strived to impress his sister - and Michelle.

Freeze right there, buddy. Still, he hoped she was okay. Michelle was a bitch but he had loved her once. It counted for something.

"Just doing my job," Dib replied the same as he always did to praise. "Keep on your alert. This may not be the end of it."

"Gotcha." Lura flew off to check the rest of the valley.

Switching off, Spunk heaved a huge sigh of relief. "Man. I thought we were going to buy the barn on that one."

"Farm."

"Whatever." The alien looked at Dib and smiled sadly. "I guess you'll be leaving after all this is over, huh?"

Dib shrugged and sat back, his legs were falling asleep. Goddamn it was cramped in here.

"Yeah." He sounded depressed.

Spunk touched his arm. "Hey, it's for the best. No one wants to see you fall into that bastard Zim's claws. I never liked him going to the Academy - truth be told, he scared the hell out me. You're better off running."

Dib listened to the alien and gradually nodded. "But still . . . will I have to keep running forever? Maybe Zim is content to chase me for the rest of his life, it's fine by him because he's got a couple of centuries to go. Me, I'm human. I don't have that luxury." He shut his eyes. "I'll have to kill him." Unlike before, when he said it with such repressed hatred, he said it reluctantly.

Spunk heard it. "You don't want to kill him." He guided the craft back toward Groom Lake. It was easier to see it in the darkness than usual - with all the fires and whatnot. A bit confused, he glanced at the human out the corner of his eye. "Why . . . if he causes you so much misery?"

Dib shrugged. "I guess it's because I've known him a lot longer than I've known most anyone, not including my sister. He's the first being from another world I've ever met. At twelve, you can't imagine what that was like for me. To see a real live alien, to talk to him, to see all the wonders he brought with him." Dib laughed. "Zim was basically God to me. Not God in a worshipping kind of sense, but he was kind of an actualization of everything I believed to be true." He couldn't believe he was telling this to Spunk, someone he barely knew - and an alien to boot! "I just wish . . . ." Dib stopped when he felt the hot tears sting behind his eyes. "I wish I could be the person he still thinks I am. He'll want to kill me when he finds out who I am now."

Spunk listened, not understanding but the real emotion behind the words made him actually understand it in a way not entirely conscious to even himself. "Maybe . . ." Pause. Then he looked at Dib in full. "How long has it been since you've seen each other face to face?"

"Five years."

"Hmm." Spunk became thoughtful. "This may not sound appealing to you, Dib, but I think you do need to face him after all. At least send him a transmission. If he's on your ass because he thinks this is a game, you have to let him know it's NOT." He went back to flying the craft, circling for a place to land. "Take my advice or not, it's up to you."

Dib nodded, distracted by a fit of troubled thoughts. They ceased when the ship touched down. Brought back now was the reality of the situation, the dire consequences of the aftermath of the attack. There were the injured to be tended to, those who were still in jeopardy and the bodies of the dead to be discovered and buried.

Dib stepped out after Spunk when the ship landed. He slumped against the hull of the ship as his mind registered the chaos surrounding him. He wanted to run away into the night, away from the fire, away from the death, away from the enemy and most of all . . . he wanted to run away from himself.

***