Jumba's Story

by Hectic Hector

Depressed with his own meaningless existence, Jumba decides to create one last experiment... one with a far greater purpose than all of his previous experiments put together.

1. Down To Earth

Disclaimer: I do not own Lilo & Stitch or any of the characters therein.

CHAPTER ONE:
DOWN-TO-EARTH

Dr. Jumba Jookiba was a very formidable man. Idiot scientist, evil genius, maniac, schizo, lolo… these words and so many more had been used to describe him over the years, and none of them were exactly flattering. Although he had preferred the term 'evil genius' over all the rest, public opinion of him had done nothing to alleviate his feeling of being alienated from the rest of his kind. Even on Earth, a tiny backwater planet where he had gone to live in peaceful retirement, he could find no true sense of belonging. There was nothing before him, and nothing behind him either, save a few ostracizing relatives and an ex-wife who didn't understand his peculiar passions. In his own words, he was truly one of a kind… although that wasn't necessarily something to be proud of. Sure, he had been the sole creator of over six hundred different and distinctly unique experiments, many of which had been repurposed from their original destructive programming for the benefit of others, but still Dr. Jookiba could not bring himself to bask in that knowledge. He would go down in history for his triumphs as well as his crimes, but somewhere deep down inside of that massive half-ton frame, he was empty. As if all of his life's work, all of the creatures he had brought into existence, and all whose lives had been affected by this, meant nothing to him… and in a way, it was true. In not a single one of his 627 experiments had he found that missing piece his heart was still searching for, the one thing that would complete him, and help him at last to realize his true purpose in the universe… his legacy. This is Jumba's story.

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It was morning on Kauai. Saturday morning. While most of the human household lay silent in sleep, Jumba Jookiba was already up and heading down to his lab in the converted storage shed out back. He carried with him the morning paper, a box of donuts, and a thermos of coffee. The atmosphere outside was serene in the aftermath of a recent rain. Everything glistened and gleamed with the promise of springtime. A vibrant double rainbow curved across the heavens past the distant volcanoes, and when Jumba saw it, he paused, taking a long minute to admire its beauty. Of course, had anyone else been there with him, he would have feigned indifference to it. That was just his way. Although he saw the beauty and the good in most things just as plainly as those around him did, he had resolved long ago to put up an uncaring façade in order to prevent himself from becoming too deeply concerned about anything other than himself. He knew from experience that to reveal one's soft spot was to make oneself vulnerable to others, and that, he had decided, was too big a risk to take with anyone. It was this sort of reasoning that had cost him his marriage, for he had been too concerned with protecting his own emotions that he had been blind and deaf to those of his wife, Yezzy, who consequently divorced him more than a decade earlier. Not that he missed her all that much, but still, he regretted the pain he had caused her in lieu of defending himself from the same thing.

However, now was not the time to dwell on such things. Jumba reminded himself of what he was doing and continued on down toward his lab. The rainbow's twin quickly faded, and the one that remained loomed brilliantly against the dark sky ahead of him. The sound of a twig snapping, and the faint rustling of leaves, caught Jumba's attention, and as he turned around to see who, or what, was following him, he gave a loud yelp and jumped backward, falling flat on his massive rear. Donuts, paper and thermos all went flying. In an instant, Jumba was back on his feet and laughing at the little green frog that had hopped out of the bushes.

"You know, for such little creature, you certainly have vay vith causing big things to happen," he told the frog as he bent over to retrieve his things. A dull pain throbbed in his backside, and he reached a hand back to rub it as he stood up straight. "Like this giant pain in my rear, for example. That's vhat you are, you know. A giant pain in rear. So like a certain experiment of mine, whom shall remain nameless. I can give you his number, if you vish to be getting together vith more of your particular kind!" Jumba yelled out these last few words as the frog hopped away toward a nearby pond. He chuckled heartily as he watched the little Earth creature go. He picked up the donut box, and found that a few donuts had fallen out on the muddy ground. "You owe me breakfast now, you hear this, slippery amphibious pond-hopper?!" he shouted, but only in jest.

Inside of his lab, Jumba changed out of his muddy clothes and donned the white lab coat hanging up by the door. Sitting down at his workbench, he laid the newspaper, an L.A. Times, out in front of him. He helped himself to a maple bar and a large gulp of super-strong black coffee while he read the headline:

RECENT ADVANCES IN EXTRAUTERINE FETAL DEVELOPMENT PAVE WAY FOR FUTURE IN GENETIC ENGINEERING

Jumba couldn't help but chuckle at this. Humans were light years behind most of the universe as far as technology was concerned. Still in the dark ages, really. While they were wowing over emails and fax machines, Jumba's kind was developing means for telekinetic transport - something along the lines of "beam me up, Scotty!" from Star Trek, only much more complicated in parts. Normally Jumba would just scan the headlines before diving straight through to the comics. This was another thing he would never admit out loud. Garfield and The Far Side were his personal favorites, although he also enjoyed an occasional dose of Mary Worth… and only an occasional dose. Besides these, he often got a good guffaw out of the horoscopes. The very notion that the positions of stars and planets during one's birth might have a special meaning or impact on one's life was ludicrous, though secretly he looked forward to reading what was in store for Taurus - his sign, according to Earth calendars.

But back to the headline at hand. This morning's in particular had definitely caught his eye. Extrauterine fetal development, as the humans had dubbed it, was not news to him, although it interested him enough to read further. As far as he had known, Earthlings, especially mammals, could only reproduce by primitive means - with the females carrying the unborn fetus and then giving birth to it. It was only very, very recently that humans had begun to work out a means of developing the fetus outside of the uterus - indeed, outside of the body completely. Although it had only been tested with primates, and it was still in its hypothetical stage, it was beginning to look very promising. In his own neck of the universe, extrauterine fetal development had been going on long before Jumba was even born, and many of his own experiments had been created that way. As he neared the end of the article, he sighed, shaking his head rather sadly for this pathetic human attempt. He had to admit they were on the right track, but by the look of things, they still had a long way to go. And what of it then? Perhaps the humans would use this new technology to repopulate some endangered species, if they weren't already thinking of using it to repopulate themselves. He'd heard too many sob stories on the daytime talk shows about couples wanting children of their own, but were unable to conceive, and then going to great lengths to have them by any means - test tubes, surrogate mothers, artificial insemination - any means, except adoption.

Jumba snorted at the thought. Humans! The farthest thing from an endangered species. Six billion and counting! Why do they feel the need to add more to an already crumbling planet? Sometimes, he really hated humans. They were all so shallow, so reckless… not caring about anything except for their instant gratification. He didn't blame other alien races for loathing them, either. Just look at the type of reception they received every time they landed on this primitive little planet! And as if that weren't enough, human society was practically an anarchy compared to his own. No wonder they didn't take kindly to aliens… they couldn't even get along with themselves! Whenever Jumba started to think like this, he kicked himself mentally, then forced himself to look at the humans who had adopted him into their family. No, not all humans were that way, and certainly not Nani and Lilo… or David… or Cobra… and he knew there were more than that. Why, he even remembered an elderly woman he had met at one of the local cafes when he had first come to Earth to capture Stitch. She was very pleasant, with a grandmotherly affect to her, and not even once did she seem amused or confused by his "alienness." She simply treated him with all the respect she should want for herself. Jumba had been quite surprised to hear The Golden Rule in a place like this, even if it was very rarely adhered to. But he remembered the old lady's warmth, even felt it, as they laughed heartily over their tropical drinks and exchanged stories. They talked for nearly two hours before the woman noticed the time and hurried to pay her bill and leave. On the way out, she had passed by his table again, thanking him for a lovely time. Jumba had blushed at this, and tried to return the compliment, but the English words had failed him for a moment and he had begun to babble incoherently in his native tongue. The woman had giggled, and thanked him again, saying "If only there were more people like you, sir… the world would be a better place for people like me, and I've seen a lot in my day. I've met so many people, held so many conversations, like the one we just had, and very few of them were ever worth remembering. Then someone like you comes along, and I do remember: there's still some good in the heart of humanity. While most of us are so out-of-this-world, I must say you are very down-to-Earth. Thank God for that." And then she was gone.

Jumba never saw the old woman again after that, although he was certain that he would never forget her. Very few people had ever had such a powerful effect on him as she had. She had caused him to stop and think, and for an evil genius with very little time to spare for thoughts unrelated to science, this was saying something. But then, if everything was a form of science, then what she had said to him was also science… science in its strangest, deepest, and most powerful form. It was something he could barely even begin to comprehend, and even at that he was overwhelmed by the implications of it. And he had been so amused by that saying: "Down-to-Earth," as if it were a compliment. Funny ideas these humans have, he thought with a smile, then turned the pages over to the comics.

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Whew! Well, whaddaya think of that? I'm probably biting off way more than I can chew by attempting to handle two fics at once here. BTW, for those of you who don't know, I'm also writing "Pleakley's Story," (Pretty obvious, judging by my pathetic choice of titles, huh?) Anywho, I'm going to do my best, or at least a half-assed job of it, in order to bring you frequent updates on both stories simultaneously. Thanx for reading!!!