***

"Nothing I must do

Nowhere I should be

No one in my life to answer to but me." - Richard Marx "One More Time"

***

"OH YEAH!"

Zim was ecstatic. It had been a long time since he'd be overjoyed by anything - anything at ALL. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this good about something, this good about what it meant to be in the "honored" position he was in. But now, from what Irken satellite cameras were telling him, it appeared the Empire had indeed achieved its quota for the day.

Groom Lake - destroyed.

Fate was singing its praises for him now. And why not? He was Zim! For once he jumped out of his chair and paraded around the room. Once in a while in the long stream of laughter a loud whoop would interrupt. Sometimes it was a whoop, other times he shouted, "VICTORY!" He even left his post and wandered the corridors of the space station, grabbing any Irken personnel and screaming, "CAN YOU FEEL IT?!" Thinking he'd lost whatever wits he'd had left, they shrank from him and hurried away.

"Zim, sir, put me down."

Zim actually LOOKED at whom he was holding and came out of his fever of joy. Invader Nia. What a way to put a damper on the occasion. Putting her down, he scrowled briefly and quickly put on an officious face. "I suppose you heard."

"I did." Her tone seethed barely concealed bitterness.

Zim lost his composure - he wasn't one to hold back ANYTHING. Pointing out a window at Earth, he grinned. "What do ya think?"

I think you're an idiot, she wanted to say. Instead she drew her tiny form up as tall as it would - though there was no way she could be any taller than him. Her face showed a flicker of discomfort for a second. Her injury still bothered her, despite all the painkillers she'd taken for it. Nia despised medicine, especially the kind that came from needles. As a smeet she'd had a bad encounter with one at birth and it haunted her more than she liked to admit.

"I think," she replied languidly, "it has been an astounding success."

Just as she predicted, Zim grinned wider and his tiny frame shook with glee. He must have been at least ten years older than her and he still behaved like a young little thing. How can it be I'm younger yet I understand things it takes one older than I to understand? Nia thought. If he wasn't such a sadistic bastard, it'd almost be cute.

"Of course it's been an astounding success! It can only come from the mind of Zim!" He exalted and raised his fists above his head. He marched down the hall toward the snack station, his head held high. No doubt about it, he was feeling good.

He half-wished Gir were still here so he could share his glee with him. But he could simply absolutely forget about it. Gir was gone forever. While Zim had been inspecting huge vats of intensely hot liquid, the bot accompanied him. Freaking out at the heat index, Gir had jumped on top of Zim's head. Forgetting they were on a catwalk above one of the vats, in utter annoyance he'd torn Gir off his head and thrown him aside. Unfortunately "aside" meant "straight down." The alien remembered watching in complete horror as Gir vanished into the mass of red hot stuff and dissolved instantly. The little bot hadn't even screamed.

Zim knew he felt bad about it. It was the only thing he ever let himself feel bad about. Taking on the responsibility of his assistant's meaningless destruction hit him harder than expected. Zim sank into what humans would have termed a "depression" and refused to have contact with ANYONE or ANYTHING for three days. He stewed over it, remembering the robot's devotion to him for the fourteen years the droid had served him.

His insanity, his crazy laughter, his happy-go-luckiness, his inability to understand what was going on around him. Gir had been more of a hindrance than a help but he had to admit, he'd served his use to the fullest capacity in other regards.

Leaving the snack bar with his minimum requirement of carbohydrates, Zim went back to his personal chamber. He thought again about what Invader Nia said and he thought again about the young man he'd seen get off the helicopter. The concepts didn't fit together. Didn't want to fit together. Intellectually Zim understood humans grew as they aged and as they did, they changed physically and mentally. He understood the Dib-human could quite possibly be a completely different person now. But he couldn't accept that. Not emotionally.

It's because I haven't changed at all.

Flopping into a chair, his eyes settled on the images on the computer screens. Fire, mayhem, humans and Irken rebels everywhere at once. Bedlam. Ragnarok. All those human names for what they commonly termed "hell."

It was beautiful.

Zim laughed again. "There has to be some way of making a copy of this to watch when I get bored!"

On one of the screens a figure appeared, almost on cue. Since he was dressed in a familiar clothing style, Zim reacted to it. He sat at the edge of his seat, squinting in close.

He grinned. The human always had an uncanny habit of letting the camera steal his image. Stupid human.

Dib kind of slumped against the hull of an Irken vessel, both eyes fixed on the ground. He couldn't tell if they were closed. An Irken appeared beside him, staring at the wreckage. When he spoke, the cameras picked up the sound. Zim reached over to a terminal and increased the volume.

" . . . have to get moving," the little rebel was saying. "People need help."

Dib lifted his head as if it weighed two million pounds. "Yes. I know." His voice sounded dead.

The Irken tugged on the bottom of Dib's coat, forcing him to crouch down. He said something very softly to him to which the human nodded. Standing up again, he followed the rebel across the wasteland of Groom Lake. They were gone before the camera was able to adjust itself to follow them.

Fuming, Zim punched the arm of his chair. "Rats." He smirked at his human proverb and turned his attention to a call coming in from the Tallest. Whenever they contacted him these days on rare occasion, Zim always dropped everything to talk to them. Even with the sham they'd pulled over him several years ago, Zim felt honor-bound by the Empire to afford them no less respect than before. In his mind, he sensed they were complete incompetent idiots although Tallest Red seemed shrewder of mind than his co-ruler Tallest Purple. Instinctively Zim kind of kept an eye on both of them. It was easy enough to piece together what they meant or was planning by their constant verbal screw-ups.

Usually Zim felt a start of doom whenever they called but this time he felt giddy. Boy he had good news for them!

When they appeared, Zim burst out with, "Greetings my Tallest, I have amazing news for you!"

They both eyed him - well, Tallest Red eyed him while Purple seemed more interested whether or not the drink he was holding had ice in it.

"What is it?" Red asked with infinite patience, giving the elbow to Purple who jerked up exclaiming, "What?….Oh!"

Totally stoked, Zim pointed to the monitors. "Thanks to my ingenious plan, the Broom Lake is no more!"

"Don't you mean 'Groom' Lake?" Red corrected him tediously. His expression and body language gave the indication there was somewhere else he'd rather be.

Zim fumbled around a bit. "Uh…ah, yes, Groom Lake. The human resistance has avenged the destruction of our earth-based stronghold!"

"Which was a complete disaster," Purple put in a nearly jaded way. "Really, Zim, it was a bad tactical move to make a stand against that well-planned attack."

"But . . ."

Red saw what Purple was doing and seized on it. "Despite this . . . victory of yours, we feel . . ."

"You shouldn't be in charge . . ." Elbow to gut. "You're too talented to be stuck calling the shots. We need you on the, on the . . ."

"On the front!" Red saved. "Where you could be of more use with your, um, talents."

Zim looked from one to the other. Were they trying to kill him again? It didn't make sense - especially after THIS! Couldn't they ignore the last horrible mistake? He spread his palms out passively. "But my Tallest, haven't I more than enough proven myself to you of my capabilities? Isn't this," he indicated a monitor with a burning aircraft carrier being put out with humans with hoses, "proof that soon enough Earth will be ours?"

"We've seen what you can do, Zim," Red replied patiently. "It's not the problem though. The humans need to be completely pacified before we can do the cannon sweep. You can't really call it a victory until the whole PLANET is purged of threat."

"Yeah!" Purple chimed in. "Plus, you know, we're kind of in a hurry. If you don't conquer it soon with what all that we've given you, we're gonna have to build our wildlife preserve somewhere else."

"Somewhere else?!" Zim was horrified. "After all THIS?!"

Red decided to be straight. "It's taking too long Zim. You're the last invader of your generation who hasn't conquered a planet." He muttered, "How embarrassing."

As Zim fought to articulate a reply, Purple said quickly and gaily, "We have to go, good luck and don't call us we'll call you. Bye!"

The screen winked off.

Zim almost threw himself at it. "No! Wait! My Tallest!" He growled and made fists. "It's all that horrible Dib's fault! I would have HAD the planet already conquered if it wasn't for him!"

"You could just have him killed."

Zim folded his arms and turned his back to the screen. Invader Nia stood leaning against the threshold to his chamber. She'd been back on duty already but at the insistence of the doctor she was stuck on this space station until she was given a clean bill of health. Of all the annoying things, she was stuck talking to Zim since all the other personnel aboard here were so cowed by Zim's awesome fits of rage whenever he caught them slacking, they dared not speak to anyone.

"I told you before," Zim said in a low voice, "that is NOT an option."

"Why?" she challenged, again dispensing with pleasantries and formal address. "Don't you see it doesn't make any sense, this obsession of yours?"

Zim put both hands over his antenna and shook his head. "I can't hear you!"

Fuming Nia walked all the way inside. Glancing around as if to make sure no one was looking, she grabbed Zim by the collar. Startled at her boldness, his eyes widened.

Nia spoke low and slow. "With all due respect, sir, I think it's about time you tell me EXACTLY why it's so fucking important he stays alive." Lost to rage, she pressed their faces together. "If I'm gonna be stuck on this space station with a goddamned hole in my squeegily spooch, I'd like to know why!"

Zim recovered and pushed her off. He really wanted to kill her now. He flexed his hands into two claws. Of all of them, of all the Irkens he'd met in his lifetime, Nia was the only one who reminded him of that damn rebel Tak. Only unlike the late Irken, Nia remained steadfastly loyal to the Empire like a dog to a beef bone. She wasn't exactly great with taking orders from someone who wasn't the Tallest - her reputation for being a hothead showed itself in full here. Despite giving Zim homicidal urges he was disconcerted to find notwithstanding all that, he still liked her. And Zim didn't like anyone except himself.

It's what saved Nia from being killed every time.

She hates me, Zim reminded himself. Her dark green eyes scared the hell out of him they were so filled with the black emotion.

"Why won't you tell me?" she whispered viciously. "I deserve to know."

Zim took a step back. "You wouldn't understand."

Nia eyed him. "Does this have anything at all to do what you did to his sister?"

"No."

"You're lying."

Zim backed away until his back touched a large monitor. "So what if I'm lying?" he shot back defensively. "This business of mine is none of yours. You just go and do what Zim tells you because the Tallest made ME in charge! Me! Zim! Not YOU!" After a pause he added slyly, "Are we going to have a problem with that?"

Nia narrowed her eyes. "No sir."

"Good." He flicked his wrist out dismissively. "Run along and do whatever it is you do when you're not doing what Zim tells you."

Nia didn't budge.

He stalked toward her, fists at his sides. "Did you hear what I said?" He pointed over her shoulder. "GO!"

She regarded him with open hostility. "I want to know."

Forgetting himself, Zim grabbed both her upper forearms and pulled her to him. He was going to insult her in the worst manner an Irken male could insult a female. The best thing she could do what all females did was just let him insult her. After all, she thought, females had their own insults to give.

Nia braced herself.

But instead of going through with it, Zim just made sure their eyes met and then he whispered. "You will turn around," his voice was shaking like he was between fear and rage, "you will leave this chamber and you won't come back unless I need you."

He let her go with a shove.

Nia stumbled back, viewing him with a real sense of fear and - surprisingly - triumph. "You can't do it can you?" she spoke in challenge as she backed away to the door.

Zim shook and he screamed. "OUT!!"

Grinning, she took one giant step back and the door shut on her smug face.

After the doors closed, Zim gave a frustrated yell of rage and threw an empty bucket that once contained popcorn at it. "YOU KNOW NOTHING! NOTHING!" He panted and grabbed the edges of the doorframe and let his weight sag down. Breathing hard, his eyes shone bright with intensity. This did no good, giving into that kind of rage. Why did she insist on pushing him this far? By Irk's will, he wanted to hurt her. But no. He wanted to save this for someone else. Invader Nia wasn't the one he wanted to hurt like that.

"But . . . I can't kill him. I don't know why. It makes no sense!" he muttered to himself straightening up.

Suddenly a communication monitor began blinking. A tiny sigh of relief came from Zim when he glanced at it.

Good. The armada was coming back.

***

Dib ran through the medical ward. Behind his slightly clouded glasses, his soft brown-yellow pupils darted around. Every now and then he stopped and grabbed the elbow of any passing nurse or EMT. Always he asked the same question and always the answer he got was a shake of the head.

He stopped in the middle of the hall, breathing hard. His lungs were already wracked from all that smoke he'd inhaled outside helping people and aliens alike get underground to receive treatment. His eyes were burning and his leg throbbed horribly. His mind raced constantly, quickening his alertness while dulling it at the same time. If he didn't start slowing down now, he'd collapse from nervous exhaustion.

"Dib!"

He looked up. A smile of relief twitched his mouth. Finally. "I was looking all over for you."

His sister slowed down from running, panting. "Me too. I was down helping Dad when I heard you were looking for me." She stopped when he gave a start. "No, don't worry, he's okay. When the bombing started he barricaded himself in his room." She gave a short laugh. "Wouldn't let me in! Said how could he sure I wasn't an alien. So I stood outside his door and recited chapter and verse every personal little thing I could think of."

"I hope you didn't mention . . ."

"No, Dib, I wouldn't embarrass you like that."

"Oh yeah you would." Dib winked at her to tell her it didn't matter anymore. "How's everything on your end?"

"Pretty good, considering." Gaz seemed impressed. "They built this place like a modern day Fort Knox."

Her brother thought otherwise. "Hard to believe. Have you been topside?"

She shook her head. "No. How bad is it?"

"Remember that movie War of the Worlds? Try picturing that with more fire and more dead bodies." Dib made a motion with his arm. "Completely wiped out."

Gaz stared. "You're kidding." At his nod, she sputtered. "There's got to be SOME things left. What about our ships and planes?"

"Some. They didn't destroy them all." Dib's shoulders slumped. "It's really bad, Gaz," he said softly. The tone of his voice told her he was making an understatement and from that she feared the worst. When Dib said it was 'really bad' he meant it in the worst of ways. "Area 51 has been sacked."

Gaz didn't react and when she did it was in one breath, "Jesus H. Christ."

Tell me about it. Dib gave her a tired smile. "I don't think he's going to help."

"Lieutenant Dib!"

Dib sighed. What now? He turned and saw a lady nurse at the end of the hall coming toward him. "You're needed in the medical ward. A patient is asking for you."

"Why?" There were a million other things he needed to attend to, a million other places he was obligated to be. "Can't this wait?"

The nurse was put off by his offhanded manner. "Sir, she can't wait."

Dib heard the meaning. He glanced at Gaz once and then back at the nurse. "She?" Dread turned his stomach. No. Please. Don't let it be who I think it is. "I'll be right there." He returned his attention to his sister. "Gaz, they need more people topside. If you're in the middle of something here . . ."

His sister was miles ahead. "I'm there."

Dib followed the nurse.

***

He reached the medical ward and looked around. The nurse motioned for him toward the room he had come to dread time and time again: the ICU. That room was where people usually went to die - at least from Dib's experience. He'd only known one person who went there who came back. One and only one.

The nurse quietly left him there. She had done all she could do. It was up to him to decide.

Dib's heart pounded and he took a step inside. There were several people in there, wrapped up to the nines, some so brutally burned or injured you couldn't even tell who they were. The first bed he saw entering contained a vague human shape under a white sheet. The single mourner of that shape was - a little to his surprise - a female Irken. She sat on a chair, staring at her hands, completely still. Silently he watched her reach up and cover her face. A shrill mewl almost beyond the range of human hearing emitted from her. They usually didn't make this sound unless they were injured badly or . . .

. . . . in grief.

Forcing his eyes elsewhere, he looked around the room. There. At the far end near the wall. He knew whom to look for without asking, without needing any information. He

took another deep breath and approached the bed.

Michelle.

About five hundred tubes were coming from her. A cardiomonitor beeped steadily, slowly, rhythmically. He remembered that sound all too well and he knew all too well the sound it sometimes made. A long, harsh, loud, insane beep. Gaz's monitor had made that sound once. It was a sound he'd learned to fear.

The sound of death.

Her strawberry blond hair was damp and spread around her and her normally tan face (she liked to go to the beach a lot) was ashen, almost completely white. Her hands rested limply along her sides. If her chest didn't rise and fall steadily, he would have thought her dead. Sensing him drawing near, her eyes fluttered open. The hand on his side twitched and she moved her fingers in a feeble greeting.

His eyes went up and down her form, his mouth opening and closing. Unable to speak, he found a chair and pulled it under him. Michelle reached for his hand and he took it.

After a beat, Michelle spoke. Her voice was soft, quiet. "The water tower collapsed. Guess I was lucky." She drew on her oxygen. "My doctor said I'm bleeding internally. I don't think there's anything they can do for me. . . . They couldn't do anything for Ned." Sadly she added, "Poor Ned."

Ned. Oh God…. Dib absorbed the horror and he shook his head in quiet denial. "No." When he looked up again, he saw that her eyes had tears in them. "Michelle, I . . ."

Michelle squeezed his hand. "Forget it. It's okay, over and done with."

"I'm still sorry."

His ex-wife smiled although it was a weak smile. "Oh that's just like you. Apologizing when there's nothing to apologize for." But she said it affectionately, teasingly. "Thanks for coming."

The corner of Dib's mouth went up but he couldn't bring it to his face. "Don't die, Mic."

Michelle feigned a shrug. "I didn't choose it. God does it for me. If die, I die."

He sighed. It was another one of those things he and Michelle had always argued about during their marriage. Her faith in God while he refused to put his blind faith in something that could never be proven. Just another one of those things that happens whenever I try to love something, he thought. How can I believe in a god when everything I care about gets destroyed before my eyes?

"Michelle . . ."

"I know, I know." She rocked her head back and forth a bit. "I don't want to fight with you. I always hated fighting with you."

"Me too."

Michelle tightened her grip on his hand. "Please forgive me, Dib."

"For what?"

"Just forgive me, okay? I need to hear it."

Dib was getting scared. She can't be saying this, she can't be thinking like this. "I forgive you." Desperately he pressed on. "Michelle, no, don't. Please." He drew closer to her and put his head down on her chest. He felt her fingers touch the top of his hair, run through it. He lifted his head. Getting up he took her face in his hands and they kissed. To each other, they tasted the same and it was the sweetest, purest thing. Her hand reached up and brushed his cheek with her fingertips.

Then it came down.

***

Dib walked down the hall away from the ICU. Behind him, a doctor and a nurse presided over a bed. While the nurse pulled the sheet over a woman's face, the doctor spoke.

"Put time of death at 2:34 AM . . ."

***

He made it outside. Unlike a few hours ago, the hell that had swept over Groom Lake had left as suddenly as it had come. But for one man, the hell was still here. The hell would always be here.

He kept going. Across the runway. Off the runway. He reached a field of grass and kept walking. Gradually he made his feet stop. Gradually he turned his head to the heavens.

After a minute or two he spread his arms out in a here I am kind of way.

"Hey! Zim! I know you can see me!" he shouted. "You getting some kind of kick out of this?!" He gestured to the distant fires. "HUH?! Well, you know what? Fuck you! You hear me? FUCK YOU!" By the time he reached the end of it, he was sobbing. "Son of a bitch," he cried more quietly. "I'm going to blow my brains out. I swear to God I'm gonna fucking kill myself."

Instead though he just stood there. He shook unsteadily. Looking at the sky again, eyes dark and unclear, he said in a voice wrought with infinite grief. "You better come get me yourself. I don't know how much longer I'm gonna be around for you to fuck with anymore."

He left the field.

***