Author's Note: Yes, it took me freakishly long to finish this chapter. My last year of university is proving more difficult and time-consuming than I'd imagined it would be, and I'm sad to say that the next chapter will probably take as long as the last one, if not longer. I hereby submit my public apology – sorry folks. Feel free to flog me (rowr).
And don't panic – I *will* finish the story eventually. I've already written the last page of the last chapter and it's too good to waste by not writing the rest of it.
Anyways, once again a big thanks to all of my reviewers. Thaaaank you.
Marie: I swear I didn't know about your story until someone told me about it in a review. And now that I've read it I wish I hadn't because I like it better *whimper*.
Random J. Lurker: I loved your snippet – it's absolutely hilarious. I'm honoured that you wrote it. *bows* I've been having so much trouble with Professor Membrane in this story, but yours is spot-on; kudos.
Nyssa: Will your theory prove correct? Sorry – you'll have to wait two more chapters to find out.
Chapter 7
The sound of Dib's hideous retching could still be heard all the way from Zim's spot near the upstairs hall window.
Wrapped in a mountain of blankets, Zim grumpily smacked his communicator against his palm, trying to figure out why it didn't seem to be working. Although there was only a one in twenty chance that Gir had actually heard and understood his hasty orders to abort the mission (clearly he hadn't sent the destructo-bomb™), Zim was still worried for the safety of his base. Whatever Gir was doing now, he wasn't responding to his communicator.
Minimoose, at the very least, had answered his call. Having just heard the big news, he squeaked even more often and cheerfully than normal and nuzzled Zim's belly in the intervals when Zim wasn't shooing him away. The Professor, satisfied that Zim wasn't going to run away (and that he'd made it up the stairs without toppling over), hovered nearby.
Finally, Zim gave up trying to contact Gir over his short-range communicator and turned to the portable long-range satellite link he'd had Minimoose bring him.
Zim glared at the Professor. "Do you MIND? This is kind of a private transmission."
The Professor nodded and backed up a few steps, turning just enough so that he could still see that Zim wasn't going to leap out of the window.
Zim punched in the latest transmission code to the Massive (which he always took scrupulous care to relocate every time the Tallest changed it). There were a few moments of static before the Irken leaders, munching on snack foods, appeared on the small floating screen that the Professor had lent him.
Hampered by his blankets, Zim made a weak salute. "My tallest."
The pair looked as though their crunch-o-bobbies just went stale. "What is it now, Zim," one sighed.
"I. . .I regretfully wish to. . .request a leave of absence and IMMEDIATE EMERGENCY transfer to Hospitalia. I have become. . .ill, and am need of. . .a remedy."
The Tallests' antennae perked up.
"Ill, you say? How badly?"
"Very badly, my Tallest."
"Very badly?"
"Yes, very badly."
"How very badly?"
"Oh, quite badly."
"With what?" the other Tallest finally chimed in.
Zim wrung his hands.
"I'm. . .pregnant, my Tallest."
Crestfallen, one went back to his snacks while the other rolled his eyes.
"That's impossible, Zim. I'm surprised even you would come up something as stupid as that. It's probably just a bad case of sterggs. Call us when you get better – oh, actually, don't. Bye, Zim."
Before the Tallest could wave the comm operator to cut him off, Zim shouted out, "Wait! WAIIIIT!! It's true, I swear it. All of the tests I've run point to the SAME conclusion."
"Zim, for one thing – there aren't any other Irkens within five solar systems of that planet of yours to donate the genetic material needed for even a viable double-donor clone. Secondly – Irkens can't get pregnant!" The tallest narrowed his eyes. "Unless you're creating a single-donor clone, which I will remind you is illegal, and in your case highly deplorable."
"No, it's not that. It's. . .well, apparently my reproductive organs are somehow still functional. And, well, the second genetic donor. . .*cough cough sneeze*."
"What was that, Zim?"
Zim's face slowly turned a light shade of purple.
"The second genetic donor. . .isn't Irken."
The Tallest looked interested.
"He's. . .human." Zim finally mumbled. "That's why my NEED to go to Hospitalia is so GREAT. Not only are human babies quite a bit larger than Irken smeets, but apparently they can be produced in MASS QUANTITIES !."
Zim reluctantly shifted a few blankets to reveal the bloated mass that was his stomach. Minimoose squeaked and happily butted his little moosey head against it, causing it to jiggle disturbingly. Zim grabbed Minimoose and tossed him away, then gestured exasperatedly to his 'little problem.'
"It seems I've got over a MILLION of the little PESTS in here. If this goes on for much longer, I will SOON be as LARGE as PLANET IRK HERSELF."
The Tallest stared.
Then they burst out laughing, sending snackey foods flying in every which direction. The one with nummy-slugs still in his mouth had to be slapped on the back a few times before he could breathe normally, only to erupt into still more raucious cackling.
They screamed with laughter. They convulsed with laughter. The comm. panel operators could be seen strewn across their stations, helpless with laughter.
The Tallest leaned on each other and shrieked until one of them fell over, at which point the other waved the signal to be cut.
A cheery Irkan smiley announced that Massive control was temporarily occupied, but to please stay on the line. Zim stared at it, waiting patiently and only slightly annoyed.
About ten minutes later, during which Zim had to wave the professor twice back to the portable atomic experimentation set with which he was engrossed, the signal was returned and the Tallest appeared on the screen once more. Seemingly upright and recovered, they took one look at Zim and started howling again. When they were finally finished, they wiped their eyes and gave Zim two big, toothy grins.
"We take it you want to go to Hospitalia to. . .get rid of this problem."
Zim nodded. "My mission is too important to be jeopardized by such a HIDEOUS distraction."
The Tallests smiled at each other. "Mmmhmm. We have a better idea, Zim. We want you to keep – whatever happens to come of this – genetic mixture."
"But my Tallest –!!"
"Zim, you have a new mission. Your mission is now to bring these new soldiers to term, study them, and train them."
"You can't SERIOUSLY demand that I keep these. . .things. I am ZIM! Zim gives birth to no one!"
"Are you questioning our orders, soldier?"
Zim deflated, "No, my
Tallest. It's just that, my mission, my
old mission. . .what about conquering Earth?
The HORRIBLE pain and destruction I have planned?"
One Tallest rolled his eyes again, the other crossed his arms.
"Okay, how about you use these new soldiers to conquer your precious earth. Think of it as a testing ground for the brats."
"If you live though the birth," one added, only to receive an elbow in the side.
Not catching the last comment, this new mission seemed to be enough for Zim. The doomey twinkle in his eyes returned. "Yes, my Tallest. Thank you, my Tallest."
"Alrighty then, Zim. Call us when you've conquered the planet," they snickered before waving cheerily and cutting the signal.
*****
After having passed out for another hour from the exertion of going down the stairs, Zim woke up once again back down in the infirmary. Dib, still looking a bit green, sneered weakly from his spot on the bed across the room.
"I thought Irkens didn't sleep, Zim."
Zim shot him a nasty look.
"We don't normally – this is your fault. The strain of keeping these half-formed smeets alive must be causing a malfunction in my pak energy regulator."
"My fault? –"
"HI!!" Interrupting a no doubt very heated and stupid debate, Gir stepped calmly into the room. He hopped up to sit beside Dib.
"Gir! Where have you been? Did you carry out my orders to destroy the base?"
Gir tilted his head a little to the side.
"Ah brought you some BEANS, justlikeyouasked." Holding out his little doggy paw, Gir revealed six dirty bean-shaped. . .things. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "They're magic beans." Gir placed the beans lovingly on Zim's blanket-covered lap.
Zim rolled his eyes.
Gir got up and began to jump on the bed that Dib was sitting on. The extra motion making him nauseous, Dib got off the bed and pulled himself up to sit on the counter.
"I'm gonna sing ma new FA-vourite song! Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. . ."
The small dog-suited robot punctuated every word with a sproing! of the mattress.
"Shut up, Gir," Zim winced. Gir ignored him.
The Professor stepped back into the room with yet more scans and samples he'd taken to his lab to analyze.
"I take it your decision has remained firm?"
"It's out of my hands – I have NO CHOICE but to keep these smeets."
The Professor sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that."
"Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ohthepain. Ow. Ow. Ow. . ."
"Shut. Up. Gir."
The Professor pulled down several more vid-screens, which flashed to life with various scans of Zim's insides.
"I've downloaded some biological charts remotely from the computer coordinates you gave me – and even that combined with my own scans won't be able to predict how this birth is going to take place. It's going to be risky. In my opinion – too risky." He threw out his arm, which was lit from behind by a freak bolt of lightning.
Zim waved his hand in dismissal. "Yes, yes. It's risky and dangerous and I'm a brave, hardy soul to put my VERY LIFE in danger to bring these smeets into the world. This is my MISSION, Professor! I AM ZIM!! And I will not be defeated by a bunch of slimy alien parasites!"
"Yes, it will be a very dangerous procedure, but the real problem –"
"Ow. Ow. Ow. getitoverwithalready,dib-beast! Ow. Ow. OW. OW. OW. OW. OW." Gir's grand finale consisted of an uncannily accurate rendition of Dib's voice in a long moan of release, after which he collapsed onto the bed with one final creak of the mattress.
Dib made an odd choking sound and fell off the counter as he was attacked by a coughing fit. Two bright red pink spots appeared on the Professor's cheeks, and he made several "harrumphing" sounds into his hand.
His face a light shade of purple, Zim grabbed the 'beans' Gir has left on his lap and hurled them at the small dog-robot. They bounced harmlessly away, but seemed to have done a good job of relieving some of Zim's anger.
"A-HEM. You were saying, Professor?" asked Zim through gritted teeth.
"Ah. Yes. The real problem here is that you'll need constant supervision, and I don't know of anyone in the medical and/or experimental biology field that I would trust not to exploit this chance to study a living sample of alien life. You may end up undergoing a series of very intrusive experiments in a government laboratory if we turn you over. . ."
"NO!! I will NOT allow myself to be turned in to another doctor under ANY circumstances!!"
"The only alternative would be for me to stay here and supervise this. . .event."
". . . . . .and?"
"And, Dad doesn't take time off work for anything. Too bad, Zim. I'm sure he'll find you a nice alternative doctor who won't experiment very much on you." Dib sneered from over where he was recovering from a painful blow to the shoulder due to his fall.
The Professor stroked his chin through his lab coat collar. Punching a button on his armband communicator, his goggles lit up by the screen projected inside.
"Simmons, cancel the rest of this week. Next week too. SOMETHING'S come up."
There was a pause.
"You mean. . .call Mr. President and have him cancel the next twelve business days due to an impending disaster you've just discovered?"
"No, Simmons. I mean I'm not coming into the lab for the next twelve days. Possibly longer."
A horrible choking cough could be heard.
"Shuffle my schedule accordingly, please, Simmons. There's a good man."
"BUT SIR –" Simmons squealed before Professor Membrane turned off his communicator.
Dib gaped.
"DAD!! You never take time off!! What about all that stuff about the world not being able to get along without you?"
"EXTRAORDINARY though I may be, I am still a man, flawed by biological nature. This is a matter for which I will take the time off – selfish though I know it is. This is a FAMILY matter."
"I'm family, and so is Gaz, and when was the last time you took time off for one of us? This isn't fair!"
The Professor crossed his arms. "You and your sister are both alive and well. Aside from that there is very little I can do as your guardian. This" he rested his hand on Zim's stomach, only to have it slapped away, "is what I suspect is the one chance I'll ever have to gain GRANDCHILDREN!! And they have no chance of surviving this birth on their own. Besides, wasn't it you, son, who asked me to help? In a roundabout way this is time spent for your sake. For you, your offspring, and your. . ." the Professor gestured to Zim, "paramour here."
Zim and Dib both exploded into protest.
"He is *not* my. . .anything!!!"
"He could not BEGIN to deserve a mate such as ZIM!! I assure you we're –"
"I'll leave that matter," The Professor interrupted them loudly, "for you to sort out on your own. Frankly I don't need to know the details."
Dib and Zim looked away from each other uncomfortably, throwing glares occasionally just to reassure themselves that each still hated the other.
"You," Professor Membrane pointed at Zim, "are amenable to spending the rest of your pregnancy here, under my supervision?"
Zim nodded.
"Good. You," the Professor pointed at Dib, "have no say in the matter. Go upstairs and. . .feed the puppy."
"But Dad!!"
Professor Membrane shook his head disapprovingly and pointed Dib out the door. Dib threw one last glare at Zim and sulked his way out of the lab.
The Professor turned back to Zim and put his hands on his hips.
"We'd best make some preparations. The future looks extremely messy."
"YAY!!" screamed Gir.
****