Standard boilerplate disclaimer: I do not own Invader Zim. Jhonen Vasquez does. Use only as directed. Offer void where prohibited. Product may contain peanuts.
-----------------------------
Can You Picture This?
Part Two: Saturday: Development
Having finished her cereal, Gaz placed her empty bowl on the coffee table and continued watching the cartoons. Reasonably certain that she would be occupied for the next little while, Dib washed his own breakfast dishes and returned to his room for the list he'd written down the night before.
For a few seconds, Dib looked around for his father before remembering the Professor would be at the lab both that day and the next. So this was how his father had chosen to spend what could well be one of the final precious weekends remaining to the human race. Through the window Dib could see the boy next door playing catch with his own father, as they did every Saturday morning while the Professor barricaded himself away in the basement making toast or whatever else.
Dib sighed deeply, then quickly turned back to his list of people to contact. In writing it up, Dib had thought carefully about who he could trust with such sensitive information. He had immediately ruled out confiding in his extended family. Anyone who'd met Gaz and still believed she was even remotely approachable would never see Zim for what he was either.
Writing the list had reminded Dib of an unflattering incident from just a few weeks ago. He'd been building something in the garage when Gaz happened by and eagerly said, "Ooh, can I watch?" Once he realized she wasn't just looking for an opportunity to hit him, Dib was happy to show her what he was doing, even explaining all the steps.
When Gaz lost interest and wandered away, Dib sighed with relief. Maybe, just maybe, things are starting to get better around here!
As his project was nearing completion, Dib heard a voice saying, "Hey, you... You... You!" He still hadn't known it was directed it at him until the speaker tried, "YOU! The UFO kid!"
Dib turned around.
"Excuse me, but have you seen my pliers?" asked Mr. Sterling, the man from a few doors down the street. He managed a large store downtown, was president of the PTA this year, coached Little League in his spare time, and was still never too busy to help a good, honest neighbourhood kid out of a scrape. Today, however, sweaty and hot in a very oil-stained T-shirt, he was obviously in the middle of a car maintenance job.
"No, I haven't, Mr. Sterling," said Dib politely. "I'm using my dad's. If you need a set of pliers, you'll be welcome to borrow these; I'm almost finished with them."
Mr. Sterling reached down and picked up something, saying, "No thanks, I'll just use my own pliers, thank you very much!" The look he gave Dib clearly accused him of being a liar as well as a thief. Dib had been too surprised to point out that he hardly needed to take Mr. Sterling's pliers as he was already using his father's; he had been baffled to the point of distraction by this incident... until he caught the smirk on Gaz's face at supper.
Mr. Sterling could have been an invaluable ally right now, had not Gaz destroyed all lingering shreds of Dib's credibility with him for a lark.
The first item on Dib's list was the paranormal institute, which was so secretive that he didn't even know their exact location; indeed, he suspected that people could work on cases for it for months before being trusted with such classified intelligence. Years of diligent investigation, however, had at least yielded their phone number. Dib called it now and found himself being forwarded to the agent who was on call that weekend.
"Hello, is this the Institute for Research into Paranormal Phenomena?"
"Who wants to know?"
"This is Dib. Professor Membrane's son," he couldn't resist adding. "I've got something to show you... something you'll be very interested in!"
"You do?" the voice on the line perked up immediately. "You have something on Count Cocofang?"
"No, this isn't about Count Cocofang. I have genuine photographs of an actual space alien!"
"What does an alien have to do with Count Cocofang?"
Dib stared at the receiver as if it had just sprouted hairy waving lobster legs. Was this guy for real? Quickly deciding that this character was on either on a special assignment or completely insane, Dib asked if he could please talk to anybody else nearby. When no one was, he left his name, address, and phone number with a firm request that they be given to whoever was the chief investigator in the aliens department.
Next, Dib scanned his photos of Zim into his computer and attached them to emails he then sent out to every member of the Swollen Eyeball network, a online paranormal group he had joined not long ago.
And with that, Dib had now moved down his list to the names of places he would visit in person that day and leave a set of photos with somebody. He knew full well that since it was a Saturday, he could expect no more than a skeleton crew at each place, but this he considered an advantage. One on one they might very well be more receptive in the face of such overwhelmingly obvious evidence, instead of feeling obliged to keep up a united front for all their co-workers.
After counting his remaining sets of pictures one more time, Dib headed for the bus stop to catch the bus that would take him to NASAPLACE.
Dib had made his way into this building so many times the security guards didn't even bother trying to stop him any more. To add some interest to the morning they checked the clock, then bet each other how long it would be before he got thrown out this time.
Passing a side hall, Dib caught sight of a janitor pushing a mop bucket ahead of him. Even though Dib had never seen this guy before, something about him was vaguely familiar; Dib just couldn't put his finger on what it was. Perhaps he'd been a teacher from the skool until he cracked up and had to take the least stressful job he could find? Oh well.
Dib went straight to the control room, which was somewhat less busy than usual, and found the mission director at his usual place, drinking his usual coffee out of his usual mug.
"Hey!"
The mission director turned around so fast that he sloshed coffee all over his shirt... as usual. "Oh, no, not you again." He spoke in a voice which had drained off all its anger and replaced it with weary resignation.
"I know what you're gonna say, but this time I really mean it! Really!"
Fifteen minutes later Dib sailed through the air past the guard house to land on the ground with a thud. Chuckles, a grunt, and the rustle of money could be heard inside. "Wanna try for best two out of three?" But this time Dib wasn't dusting himself off and immediately trying again as he sometimes did. He was heading off to his next stop, the Air Force headquarters.
Dib was well aware that the Air Force denied the existence of UFOs. But they couldn't claim that any longer, now that proof positive was here at last! Surely they would want to know all about this!
As the bus got close enough to the base that Dib could actually see the wall surrounding it, he suddenly decided he'd better think up a way to actually get in, as he'd never been here before. When he was younger, saying something that began with "When I grow up I want to be just like you!" had worked like a charm for getting him invited to visit all sorts of interesting places.
But the longer his age had been in the double digits, the less accommodating Dib had found most adults. Many seemed to regard him as a nuisance, one more preteen punk who was just waiting for any chance to do mischief. Dib now recalled that on the bus going to the maul to get the pictures developed the day before, doing nothing at all out of the ordinary other than to smile, the bus driver had watched him pretty closely the whole way.
Once off the bus, Dib walked up to the gate where a young sentry stood guard next to a tiny hut. In his late teens himself, the sentry was tall and lanky with red hair poking out beneath his helmet. With his freckles and quick grin, he looked as if he had just stepped off a recruitment poster.
"I'm here about something really important." Dib began. "You see - "
"Well, I'd be happy to listen, but I gotta tell you, I can't do anything," the sentry said. "I'm still a private and while I'm on guard duty I can't go anywhere."
"Well, I'm just going in for a few minutes then - "
"Wait wait wait, hold it. Nobody 'just' goes in here!"
"But I NEED to get in there and TALK to somebody!"
"National security?"
"Uh... YEAH! You COULD say that!"
"I'll have to clear you first."
The sentry reached for a phone inside the hut. After a brief conversation, the sentry got Dib to sign a log book before giving him directions to the office of the person he'd called.
Dib soon found it. "Hello, you're expecting me; I have - "
A middle-aged, thickset Air Force officer with the flattest brushcut Dib had ever seen looked up suddenly from his desk. "What's this about?" he growled.
" - I have some photos to show you... something you'll find very interesting!"
The officer grunted, "What are they of?" This was obviously somebody who had never picked up the phone any of the times Dib had called before.
"An alien! And - "
"No, you cannot."
"Sure I can, they're right here! Now this one - "
"You cannot show me a picture of an alien, kid, for one simple reason. It's because there is no such thing. That's pictures of something else you've got there. I don't know what it is, but I do know what it's NOT... an alien. And even if it was, which it is NOT, you would have broken a law just getting close enough to take a picture of it. Did you know that? Hm?"
As the officer sneered at Dib, Dib noticed that the top picture of the stack of photos he had taken out to exhibit was the one in which Zim had defiantly stuck out that long wormish tongue at him.
"They DO exist!" Dib protested, holding up his photos for the officer to see. "I tell you I took all these pictures just yesterday!"
"It's a hoax." The words came out automatically.
"IT'S NOT A HOAX!" Dib protested, stung by the accusation. Quickly he spread the pictures across the desk, where the officer could hardly avoid looking at them. "There! What would you say that is?"
"You. In your Halloween costume... on stilts. Cute. At least you've grown up enough to throw away your teddy bear. I see you set it on fire first, like any other lunatic."
"THAT! What would you say THAT is?" Dib pointed out a photo of Zim doing something even he still couldn't identify... and that after having witnessed it himself.
"It's... it's..." The moment his voice began to sound uncertain, the officer swept his arm across the desk and sent the whole set of pictures into the wastepaper basket next to his desk. Had Dib not had multiple copies, things could have gotten very ugly indeed.
"Please!" Dib's arms were flailing in his desperation. "Don't you - "
"For the last time, kid,"the Air Force officer gritted out between his teeth as he glared directly at Dib, "aliens... do... not... exist. It says so on every single page of my Government Blue Book! There, see?" He held the book in Dib's face, opened to a random page which of course backed him up. Then he stood up, put his hands on his hips, and leaned over his desk to stare down at Dib with the full force of his military authority. "Now you are getting off this base... right now... before I call out the men in the white coats. MOVE IT!!!" he sonic boomed at the boy.
Dib jumped a foot off the floor in spite of himself. Then he reluctantly turned and left, walking out past the guard house looking a lot less confident than he had looked walking in. The sentry called to him. "Kid? Hey, kid. Did something go wrong?"
Dib stopped but didn't turn around. "Oh, nothing.... except that the EARTH is gonna be DESTROYED, that's ALL!" he yelled over his shoulder.
With a friendly smile, the sentry knelt on one knee to get closer to Dib's eye level. "At ease, civilian! How's it gonna be destroyed?"
Dib could not run up to the sentry and pull out an envelope of his pictures fast enough. Looking them over closely, the sentry shook his head, whistling between his teeth. "Wow... Well... they sure do LOOK authentic, I'll give you that much!"
"That's because they ARE authentic!" Dib declared. "I took them myself! Just yesterday! There's an alien in my classroom... "
The expression that came to the sentry's face as soon as Dib mentioned the word classroom told him that the sentry was fast losing whatever faith he may have had in Dib's story. "PLEASE! Won't ANYBODY PLEASE believe me!!" Dib was shouting to keep himself from crying in front of this Air Force guy. "Here, TAKE these, I've got other copies. Try... TRY and find SOMEBODY in there who'll take this SERIOUSLY! The FATE of the EARTH DEPENDS on it! PLEASE!! YOU'VE GOT TO BELIEVE ME!!" Dib grabbed the sentry's lapels and with terrified, earnest desperation stared directly into the eyes of the closest thing to an ally he'd found so far.
The sentry frowned, not an unfriendly frown but a thinking one. This kid was already babbling wildly about UFOs; even if he did repeat what he was about to hear next, who would believe it? The sentry looked around in every direction very carefully before leaning in closer to Dib's ear.
"This... this is a secret. A REAL secret. I am under the strictest orders not to breathe this to a living soul," he whispered, still glancing around, "but the Air Force knows all about UFOs - SHHH!" He covered Dib's mouth before Dib could start screaming questions about why they weren't doing anything if they knew. "We do defence, not scientific inquiry... and we don't believe UFOs are a threat. All those sightings, and not one single actual attack? We can't risk starting a major panic. This may indeed be the real deal," he held up the pictures Dib had just given him, "but I'd say you have nothing to worry about."
The sentry was trying to reassure an obviously distraught child, but Dib in his fear and frustration felt like he was being shrugged off yet again. "No attacks YET! This alien is TALKING about invasions and defences! I heard it... I HEARD IT!"
"Shhhhh! I hear ya, rookie. If I was older and a high enough ranking officer, maybe I could do something. But I'm just a Private. I can't do anything myself, and my Commanding Officer wouldn't believe me any more than he just now believed you. " He shook his head and held out his hands.
By the time this sentry was old enough that anyone would listen to him, it would be far too late. And even assuming that he did survive to get old enough to do something, would he have become as sceptical and stubborn as the old guy Dib had talked to earlier?
Dib pointed out his contact information on the back of each picture, just in case the sentry did find someone who would be willing to listen.
"Dib, huh? My name's Jerome. Pleasure to meet you."
"Well... thanks, Jerome. TRY! PLEASE, try!"
As Dib turned to leave, he noticed Jerome winking and giving him a salute.
This time Dib was going to go see somebody whose job was scientific inquiry, someone like his father but hopefully more open-minded about UFOs, someone at the astronomy department of the university.
He encountered little resistance in getting past this university security guard. All he had to do was sign his name, and for good measure he said that yes, he was THAT Professor Membrane's son.
Following the first map he came to, Dib found the astronomy department with little difficulty and soon located an office with an open door and someone inside. However, this someone refused to even consider that the photos might be genuine, after the briefest of glances directing Dib to the theater department of the Fine Arts building.
Dib instead searched the astronomy department a little more and eventually found another open office in which a young man and woman, graduate students most likely, were working on something. When Dib came to the doorway and knocked on the doorframe they looked up, glad of an interruption to break up a busy Saturday, but their smiles faded as soon as Dib began to speak.
"So THAT'S what you look like. We keep telling you, IT'S NOT A UFO!" the woman briskly held up her hands to ward Dib away.
"No, not this time! These are actual pictures of an actual - "
"- satellite. Or a Frisbee. Or a kite. Or a weather balloon. Or a pie pan somebody threw at you. Pick one and leave us alone! We're too busy for this!" Bending over his work again, the man pointed at the door behind Dib.
"I know it's not a space ship this time. It's an alien!"
A pause. Dib thought this meant they were listening and would believe him this time.
"I have all these pictures I took yesterday of an actual space alien, and if you'll just - "
A harried looking grey-haired man in a tweed suit stepped out from behind a bookcase. "I don't know what you think you're doing, but this stopped being funny fifty times ago." He turned to the grad students. "Call security."
Dib was about to turn and leave before they could actually do so, but then a better idea occurred to him. "Go ahead, call. Please."
With that, they suddenly weren't so eager to call, but did so anyway. When the security guard showed up, he nearly walked straight into the pictures Dib was already holding up to an adult's eye level. "I'm glad to see you!" Dib blurted. "Who would you suggest I show these pictures of a SPACE ALIEN to?"
The guard shook his head sympathetically at the astronomy professor. "Man, I wouldn't want your job... getting all the nutcases who think they've seen a UFO. Come on, 'Muddler', the truth is out there! So get out there and keep looking for it!"
Finding himself being pushed towards the door, Dib decided that there would be no talking sense to these people either. Were there no limits whatever to people's tendency not to accurately see what was right in front of them? This was proving more difficult than he thought.
Outside again, Dib stumbled along, glaring down at the sidewalk, wondering if he should just go home and think up another list, when he heard a siren wailing somewhere far away, probably a police car or -
Police!
He headed to the police station, hoping to catch an officer coming out. But the only officer he could see right at that moment was heading into the station.
Waving an envelope of pictures, Dib ran up to him. "OFFICER!! Have I got something to show you!!"
The cop looked very interested... until he actually looked at the pictures. "Oh. Nice."
"These are pictures of an ALIEN! A dangerous alien who is - "
"An alien? From where? Mexico?"
"No, not Mexico! Outer space!"
Pointing a finger toward the sky, the cop lifted an eyebrow with the air of having seen it all and that nothing could possibly surprise him now.
"Yeah!" said Dib, tremendously encouraged to find even this much response. "I knew it all along! Not only is there intelligent life on other planets, it's here to - "
"Intelligent life on other planets. Uh huh." The cop looked pointedly at Dib. "Some days I'm not so sure about THIS one."
"Me neither!" said Dib, missing the slur. "Can I go into the station with you and tell everybody? And give these to your chief? My contact information's on the back for whoever gets assigned to check it out. I know exactly where the alien is staying, so I'd be the one to send somebody to come talk to."
The cop shrugged. "Sure, we can always use a la - I mean, sure, why not?"
He guided Dib into the station and through a door marked "Cafeteria", saying it was suppertime and the chief would be in here too. Every police officer in the room gathered around Dib when the officer called out that he had a young citizen who had something to report. They all listened attentively enough, in between questions about whether Dib looked both ways before crossing the street and didn't talk to strangers. They were only too happy to let Dib pin his photos on the bulletin board and thanked him for being such a good upstanding kid. Dib was so relieved to find so many police officers willing to listen that he didn't realize what was actually happening.
When Dib finally thanked them for listening and closed the cafeteria door behind him, he collapsed against the wall and closed his eyes, sighing with relief that finally, at long last, he had found someone who listened! But just as he straightened up to leave, obviously pent-up guffaws exploded inside the room, followed by waves of laughter which steadily grew even louder.
Dib bit his lip. They had merely been humoring him all along. Not one of the obvious rejections of the day had hurt like this; someone who briefly acted like a friend before turning on you was even crueller than someone who openly declared opposition.
Dib thought of going back inside the cafeteria to show the officers he was still there and had heard everything, but found he didn't have the stomach for it. Instead he simply turned and walked out the front door.
Trying to think of someone else who might listen for even a minute, Dib decided to head for the old age home, or senior complex as you were supposed to call it now. Surely one of them, over the course of a long life, had to have seen a UFO, or at least talked to somebody who knew somebody who'd seen one! Dib knew for a fact that people did see UFOs, even if they didn't exactly run around working that fact into every conversation.
Dib told the switchboard operator that he had come for a visit and was ushered to the common room. When told they had a visitor, the residents looked up as one from their jigsaw puzzles, magazines and knitting. Oh, boy, thought Dib, they all want to talk!
However, being from the era when children were seen and not heard, the seniors liked to choose the topics for conversation. Dib found himself exchanging small talk on a multitude of subjects before anyone would even consider listening to him.
For all the people who were eager to talk, Dib found it extremely difficult to get anyone to actually listen to what he had come to say. The only reaction he did when he mentioned UFOs was from one old guy who just laughed at him, saying something about a fake alien invasion on the "War of the Worlds" radio broadcast which had suckered him in back in '38, and how he was danged, by jingy, if he was going to be taken in again!
The woman sitting next to him looked at Dib sharply over her knitting needles and sniffed, "THEY were playing us all for FOOLS!" as if accusing Dib of doing exactly that.
That was as much interest in his topic as Dib would get on his last stop, and he walked out more defeated than ever on this long discouraging day.
By now it was early evening, and Dib was hungry indeed. On his way to MacMeaties, he stopped at a corner newspaper machine and bought a copy. Dib looked closely all through the paper while eating his supper but could find no sign of his photo. Ah well, he had brought it in very late on the previous day; surely it would appear tomorrow.
After encountering even more scepticism and hostility today than he had expected, Dib wondered what would happen once his story and photographs appeared in the paper. They couldn't ignore that! At least he hoped they wouldn't. Exhausted both physically and emotionally, Dib wasn't smiling when he got on the bus this time.
Playing away on her GameSlave, Gaz gave no sign of noticing as he got in... thank God. Dib went straight to his room and booted up his computer to see what the Swollen Eyeballs had to say about his finding.
Quite a few replies were waiting for him, but when he excitedly opened the first one, it said, "You've done well, Agent Mothman. However, the Eyeballs need more conclusive evidence before confirming any alien presence. Get back to us if you find more." All the others merely repeated some variation on this.
How much more conclusive evidence could they possibly want? Dib wondered.
He studied the Zim photos more closely than ever before, both holding the hard copies close to his eyes, and enlarging the digitized images before scrutinizing them as well.
As if he was facing the alien itself, Dib hissed intently to each photograph, "I don't know what you're planning, but you won't get away with it!"
--
(A/N) Whew! This just kept getting longer and longer, but our Dib is not one to give up easily! Not a whole lot actually happens, except the usual result when Dib tries to tell anybody Zim's an alien. So if you actually made it this far, thank you! And whaddya think? Too long? About right?
To Psychosis: Continuing as requested!
To Maran Zelde: Yes, thank you, I heard somewhere that "Membrane" is in fact Professor Membrane's first name! However, when a family surname is called for, Membrane is the closest thing we've been given.
To Crazy Girl Person: No actual threat was present; Dib just remembers the threatening incident in my last fic and preferred not to go there. My idea of the Professor's denial actually started within the show. He is always both so superhumanly cheerful and inhumanly distracted that I thought he seemed to be constantly dodging something unbearably uncomfortable.
I wouldn't like anybody who treats Dib as hideously as Gaz does in the show, and only rarely with anything remotely resembling justification. I can even see Zim's point of view, but the sole explanation I have ever been able to cough up for Gaz's monstrous viciousness is that she offered Jhonen and/or the writers a way to take out their frustrations after wrangling with network executives.
And yes, you are absolutely correct. I have in fact been describing Gaz as more aggressive than she (usually) is in the show. However, the nauseating way Gaz threatens and intimidates Dib very likely points back to a long history of physical brutality such as I've been describing. As I indicated in Part One, this dynamic is about to alter somewhat, and not for the better.
Action/Adventure? Let's not get ahead of ourselves... Zim just got here!
To Tash Dragon: Thank you! I think this family offers so many possibilities that the show would be already interesting even without Zim.
Coming soon: Sunday: Album