Chapter Two
Professor Membrane was good to his word. Barely two hours and fifteen minutes later, he walked casually through the front door as if he did it every day. Which, as his waiting son could readily testified, was far from the truth. Their father probably didn't spend enough hours in their home during the course of a year to constitute a full month's time.
Indeed, as the famous scientist looked around the room, his expression unreadable from behind the upturned collar of his flawless clean white coat, Dib couldn't help but wonder what his father thought when he did arrive home. What an unfamiliar place it must be, like a return visit to a recurring dream that one doesn't recall in the daylight hours. An alien landscape that mocks you with its familiarity.
Finally his father's attention wandered to Dib, who waited alone on the sofa. "Dad?" he asked hesitantly. "So what… what did you want to talk about?" The strange circumstances of the evening were making him jumpy. Instead of answering, his father walked past him, into the kitchen. "Where's your sister?" he asked softly. Dib shrugged. "Upstairs rotting her brain on video games, what else? Everyone thinks I'm nuts, but at least I'm not locked in a world of electronic death and backlit colors." Dib crossed his arms in a slight sulk at the unfairness of it all.
"I see."
Dib followed his father back into the living room. "Dad?" No response. "Dad!? Aren't you going to tell me what this is all about!?" Professor Membrane sat down heavily on one end of the sofa. "Dib, what do you recall about when Gaz was small?" Dib felt his head cock to one side like that of a curious puppy. "Dad, I was barely a year old when Gaz was born. As far as my memory's concerned, she's always been here." He shrugged at the futility of the question. Just like his father to forget something like that, he figured.
"I suppose that you were too small to recall it, at that. It was a hectic, complex time for all of us. Your mother died, you were born, Gaz was probably little more than a footnote in your young mind." Dib pulled himself up beside his father on the reassuring sofa. "You mean that I was born, then Gaz, then Mom died, don't you, Dad?" he pressured. Professor Membrane shook his head. "No, Dib. I don't. Your mother, dear thing that she was, died when you were just six months old. You know that it was an accident at the lab, but I'd rather not go into what happened. Even now it's too fresh in my mind to think of without pain. Perhaps, in a few more years." The older man trailed off, his eyes focused on something far away from their protected shelter behind his goggles.
Before his son could quite get a grip on what he was being told, he continued. "You know, I've made a lot in my lifetime. Inventions, ground- breaking discoveries… but no matter how much time I spend in that laboratory, I want you and… Gaz to know that you're what's most important to me. Every hour I spend in the day is in the name not just of science, but for you. To make the world a better place for both of you. I'm sorry that I get so preoccupied with it that I forget how important it is to actually be here for you."
Dib adjusted his glasses, uncertain of what was happening. It felt good in a way to have his father tell him how important he and his sister were, but at the same time it was unsettling. Where was this all leading? He didn't have to wait long for his answer.
"Dib, this may be a bit of a shock to you, but Gaz isn't really your sister. At least.. not in the most correct sense." "She's an alien?" Dib gaped. His father sighed. "No, she's a weapon. She's the end product of a research project that your mother and I were working on for most of our earlier lives." His father leaned back as Dib stared in disbelief. "We genetically engineered an organism that would ideally be able to channel energy. It was a sort of game at first. Creating a person capable of creating energy distortions? We had no idea really what we were doing. We just made up a theory and got an enormous grant to fund the absurd notion of an ultimate weapon. Your mother supplied the base genetic material for each of our attempts." He tossed in the last sentence almost as an afterthought.
"When you were six months old, when Project Gazelle's latest engineered sample had reached the breakthrough phase of a full month of development.." he trailed off hesitantly, and Dib knew what was to follow. "..your mother died." He finally admitted, as if he carried some deep personal blame for the fact. As his father leaned forward to rest his suddenly heavy head in his hands, Dib finally overcame his shock enough to ask a question.
"Project… Gazelle?" he whispered softly, feeling the taste of faint familiarity as the words rolled lazily off his tongue. "That's what your mother called it. When she wrote up the proposal for the project, she claimed that our 'superweapon' would be swift as a gazelle, and unstoppable as a hurricane." He laughed humorlessly. "Was it.. Gaz's fault that Mom died?" Dib asked softly, not even sure that he wanted to know the answer to his question. "It was no one's fault, Dib. Certainly not Gaz's. She was barely bigger than a mouse and not, to the best of science's knowledge, aware of anyone or anything. It was an accident, pure and simple."
He paused for a moment, watching Dib turn this over in his mind before nodding. His poor son, cursed to a life without a mother, and with a father who was never there for him. No wonder the poor boy was slowly becoming insane.
"It took many months for me to get interested in the project again. I couldn't really see the point in it anymore. It had been a government- funded game to us, and now it was just me. I almost pulled the plug on the support system more times than I can recall. Finally it was the simplest thing that stayed my hand. She had a soft halo of purple fuzz, you could barely call it hair, on her head. From the first moment that I noticed it, I couldn't bring myself to terminate the project. When she was born a couple of months after your first birthday, I introduced you to her. I could practically see the bond that formed between you two. You thought she was some marvelous new toy, and she was fascinated by you, the first living thing she'd ever seen that was close to her own size."
"I suddenly realized one day that I couldn't ever tell anyone that the project had been a success. I couldn't give up Gaz to some institution or lock her in a sanitized environment to be studied like a lab rat. She'd become a real, precious little girl, and I couldn't stand the idea that As a lark I'd helped create her to fulfill some hollow selfish purpose like advancing my own career." He straightened suddenly. "How long has she been doing these things, Dib?" Dib blinked in surprise. He'd been so caught up in the narrative that being asked a question threw his mind completely off track. "Things?" "Influencing the weather, electricity, anything unusual at all."
Dib faltered. "Uh… I dunno… she's always done… weird stuff, but especially here recently. I just figured that it was part of her being… her." His father mumbled softly to himself. "It is. Dib, this increased activity must be being triggered by the hormonal shifts of pre-adolescence. They'll only increase in activity and visibility as she gets older."
There was a soft clatter of plastic hitting the floor. Both Dib and his father whirled as if they'd been shot at with a high-powered laser. "I… I…" Gaz stammered, staring at her father with wide eyes. "Gaz? Honey?" She grabbed the lamp off of the nearby table and flung it at her father. "NO! NO! Leave me alone! I hate you! I hate you all! Why don't you all just die and leave me ALONE!?" she screamed, running towards the front door and out into the monsoon that raged outside, now stronger than before.
Dib smelled something like charring upholstery and looked down to see that the sofa had begun to smoulder. He shoved himself to his feet and away from the offending piece of furniture as his father did the same. Seconds later, the sofa was engulfed in flame. Automated sprinklers dropped from the ceiling to douse the fire with cold water, soaking them both. "And to think, I always wondered why the house has all these "safety devices"." He muttered.
"Dib, go after her. She's not responsible for this, she doesn't mean it. I'm going to the lab to get back to work on trying to find a way to muffle her abilities to a manageable level. Her emotional state is making her excitable, so be careful. Right now, you and I have to keep anyone from finding out what she's capable of… or…" he didn't need to finish the sentence. Dib nodded and dashed for the door. He didn't bother grabbing an umbrella, thanks to the sprinklers he was as wet as he could get, anyway. As he ran down the street, he was seized by an awful thought…
What if Zim discovered this perfect weapon in her hour of distress? Was there some way the alien could convince her to ally with him? They both hated all humanity. Or at least Gaz claimed to. There was no telling what he could convince her to do in her state. Dib forced his stride to lengthen as he searched frantically for his sister. That was, when it came down to it, what she was, after all.
Professor Membrane was good to his word. Barely two hours and fifteen minutes later, he walked casually through the front door as if he did it every day. Which, as his waiting son could readily testified, was far from the truth. Their father probably didn't spend enough hours in their home during the course of a year to constitute a full month's time.
Indeed, as the famous scientist looked around the room, his expression unreadable from behind the upturned collar of his flawless clean white coat, Dib couldn't help but wonder what his father thought when he did arrive home. What an unfamiliar place it must be, like a return visit to a recurring dream that one doesn't recall in the daylight hours. An alien landscape that mocks you with its familiarity.
Finally his father's attention wandered to Dib, who waited alone on the sofa. "Dad?" he asked hesitantly. "So what… what did you want to talk about?" The strange circumstances of the evening were making him jumpy. Instead of answering, his father walked past him, into the kitchen. "Where's your sister?" he asked softly. Dib shrugged. "Upstairs rotting her brain on video games, what else? Everyone thinks I'm nuts, but at least I'm not locked in a world of electronic death and backlit colors." Dib crossed his arms in a slight sulk at the unfairness of it all.
"I see."
Dib followed his father back into the living room. "Dad?" No response. "Dad!? Aren't you going to tell me what this is all about!?" Professor Membrane sat down heavily on one end of the sofa. "Dib, what do you recall about when Gaz was small?" Dib felt his head cock to one side like that of a curious puppy. "Dad, I was barely a year old when Gaz was born. As far as my memory's concerned, she's always been here." He shrugged at the futility of the question. Just like his father to forget something like that, he figured.
"I suppose that you were too small to recall it, at that. It was a hectic, complex time for all of us. Your mother died, you were born, Gaz was probably little more than a footnote in your young mind." Dib pulled himself up beside his father on the reassuring sofa. "You mean that I was born, then Gaz, then Mom died, don't you, Dad?" he pressured. Professor Membrane shook his head. "No, Dib. I don't. Your mother, dear thing that she was, died when you were just six months old. You know that it was an accident at the lab, but I'd rather not go into what happened. Even now it's too fresh in my mind to think of without pain. Perhaps, in a few more years." The older man trailed off, his eyes focused on something far away from their protected shelter behind his goggles.
Before his son could quite get a grip on what he was being told, he continued. "You know, I've made a lot in my lifetime. Inventions, ground- breaking discoveries… but no matter how much time I spend in that laboratory, I want you and… Gaz to know that you're what's most important to me. Every hour I spend in the day is in the name not just of science, but for you. To make the world a better place for both of you. I'm sorry that I get so preoccupied with it that I forget how important it is to actually be here for you."
Dib adjusted his glasses, uncertain of what was happening. It felt good in a way to have his father tell him how important he and his sister were, but at the same time it was unsettling. Where was this all leading? He didn't have to wait long for his answer.
"Dib, this may be a bit of a shock to you, but Gaz isn't really your sister. At least.. not in the most correct sense." "She's an alien?" Dib gaped. His father sighed. "No, she's a weapon. She's the end product of a research project that your mother and I were working on for most of our earlier lives." His father leaned back as Dib stared in disbelief. "We genetically engineered an organism that would ideally be able to channel energy. It was a sort of game at first. Creating a person capable of creating energy distortions? We had no idea really what we were doing. We just made up a theory and got an enormous grant to fund the absurd notion of an ultimate weapon. Your mother supplied the base genetic material for each of our attempts." He tossed in the last sentence almost as an afterthought.
"When you were six months old, when Project Gazelle's latest engineered sample had reached the breakthrough phase of a full month of development.." he trailed off hesitantly, and Dib knew what was to follow. "..your mother died." He finally admitted, as if he carried some deep personal blame for the fact. As his father leaned forward to rest his suddenly heavy head in his hands, Dib finally overcame his shock enough to ask a question.
"Project… Gazelle?" he whispered softly, feeling the taste of faint familiarity as the words rolled lazily off his tongue. "That's what your mother called it. When she wrote up the proposal for the project, she claimed that our 'superweapon' would be swift as a gazelle, and unstoppable as a hurricane." He laughed humorlessly. "Was it.. Gaz's fault that Mom died?" Dib asked softly, not even sure that he wanted to know the answer to his question. "It was no one's fault, Dib. Certainly not Gaz's. She was barely bigger than a mouse and not, to the best of science's knowledge, aware of anyone or anything. It was an accident, pure and simple."
He paused for a moment, watching Dib turn this over in his mind before nodding. His poor son, cursed to a life without a mother, and with a father who was never there for him. No wonder the poor boy was slowly becoming insane.
"It took many months for me to get interested in the project again. I couldn't really see the point in it anymore. It had been a government- funded game to us, and now it was just me. I almost pulled the plug on the support system more times than I can recall. Finally it was the simplest thing that stayed my hand. She had a soft halo of purple fuzz, you could barely call it hair, on her head. From the first moment that I noticed it, I couldn't bring myself to terminate the project. When she was born a couple of months after your first birthday, I introduced you to her. I could practically see the bond that formed between you two. You thought she was some marvelous new toy, and she was fascinated by you, the first living thing she'd ever seen that was close to her own size."
"I suddenly realized one day that I couldn't ever tell anyone that the project had been a success. I couldn't give up Gaz to some institution or lock her in a sanitized environment to be studied like a lab rat. She'd become a real, precious little girl, and I couldn't stand the idea that As a lark I'd helped create her to fulfill some hollow selfish purpose like advancing my own career." He straightened suddenly. "How long has she been doing these things, Dib?" Dib blinked in surprise. He'd been so caught up in the narrative that being asked a question threw his mind completely off track. "Things?" "Influencing the weather, electricity, anything unusual at all."
Dib faltered. "Uh… I dunno… she's always done… weird stuff, but especially here recently. I just figured that it was part of her being… her." His father mumbled softly to himself. "It is. Dib, this increased activity must be being triggered by the hormonal shifts of pre-adolescence. They'll only increase in activity and visibility as she gets older."
There was a soft clatter of plastic hitting the floor. Both Dib and his father whirled as if they'd been shot at with a high-powered laser. "I… I…" Gaz stammered, staring at her father with wide eyes. "Gaz? Honey?" She grabbed the lamp off of the nearby table and flung it at her father. "NO! NO! Leave me alone! I hate you! I hate you all! Why don't you all just die and leave me ALONE!?" she screamed, running towards the front door and out into the monsoon that raged outside, now stronger than before.
Dib smelled something like charring upholstery and looked down to see that the sofa had begun to smoulder. He shoved himself to his feet and away from the offending piece of furniture as his father did the same. Seconds later, the sofa was engulfed in flame. Automated sprinklers dropped from the ceiling to douse the fire with cold water, soaking them both. "And to think, I always wondered why the house has all these "safety devices"." He muttered.
"Dib, go after her. She's not responsible for this, she doesn't mean it. I'm going to the lab to get back to work on trying to find a way to muffle her abilities to a manageable level. Her emotional state is making her excitable, so be careful. Right now, you and I have to keep anyone from finding out what she's capable of… or…" he didn't need to finish the sentence. Dib nodded and dashed for the door. He didn't bother grabbing an umbrella, thanks to the sprinklers he was as wet as he could get, anyway. As he ran down the street, he was seized by an awful thought…
What if Zim discovered this perfect weapon in her hour of distress? Was there some way the alien could convince her to ally with him? They both hated all humanity. Or at least Gaz claimed to. There was no telling what he could convince her to do in her state. Dib forced his stride to lengthen as he searched frantically for his sister. That was, when it came down to it, what she was, after all.