"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy."
Hamlet (I, v, 166-167)
Towards the end of her stay on Earth, Tak started having headaches.
It was most inconvenient. The device attached to her meat-brain, visible snaking out of her left temple and around her head, allowed her to influence the neural centers of lesser life forms. Unfortunately, its enhancement of her latent abilities had begun to produce nausea and waves of violent, searing pain. It did not function on Irkens, so her long years of training and subsequent shameless, unjust stationing on Planet Dirt had not afforded it much use.
But those weeks disguised as a skoolgoing weenie heiress, with so many pitiful humans to bend and control…
She had begun work on an external model. Without the organic component, it would not be nearly as powerful, of course. But Tak was confident that she could replicate her innate skills. She was, after all, brilliant. She designed it to look like a cell phone, as the filthy meatworms couldn't be without them, anyway. Tak then outlined its basic concept and design, along with certain more specific schematics, to her SIR unit, MiMi.
After she left earth, the design lay encoded within MiMi's memory disk, abandoned, like so many other useful pieces of information, in the depths of Irken Ex-Invader Zim's base.
Dib closed the device. Zita stood, staring ahead, transfixed. She had the same look on her face that she wore throughout most of the skoolday. A dead, dull look of incomprehension. Dib hadn't even needed to turn the device up to its more intense "Violet: Somewhat Intelligent" setting. The "Blue: Dumb as a Lyk'Slogh" setting had sufficed.
Which, while a bit sad for Zita, was good, in a way…he didn't want to risk injuring her.
"Zita. Follow me."
Dib dug his fingernails into the back of his hand, and breathed in deeply. And coughed; after two years, the whole place still reeked of some sort of lemony-cleanser smell. He supposed he should have been used to it by now.
Dib bit his lip, and led Zita down, through the trash can, into the waiting dark of the underground labs.
There were many subterranean rooms beneath the glowing green house, lit by stolen power from the clueless neighbors, who had needed to take second and third jobs to support their exorbitant power bills.
This particular chamber was situated around a large, sturdy tube, stretching like sculpted crystal from the floor to the ceiling. Fine blue lines, aflame with crackling energy, traced themselves through it. It was empty inside, filled only with ordinary breathable air, but Zita's face was distorted through its surface; submerged, aquatic.
It was for her own safety. Hers, and his.
"I always knew you were still crazy."
Dib sighed. The subject needed to be awake and cognizant for this, but listening to the derogatory taunting of the child…
No. NO. Not "child." Not "subject." Zita. Her name was Zita.
It's happened after all. I've been spending too much time here. It happened anyway.
"Zita, PLEASE." Placing a hand to his pained forehead, removing his glasses. "You won't remember any of this. You'll be fine. I PROMISE. I'll even do your homework for the rest of the semester."
"You've been kinda quiet for about, what, I don't know, a year now?" She continued, heedless, not seeming to hear. "So people thought you'd wised up. I figured you'd just worn your vocal cords out, FINALLY, and decided to shut up. But you're still just as crazy and WEIRD as ever. You've always BOTHERED me that way."
Zita was not, he had realized, a horrible person. Rather, she had little to distinguish herself from her peers and was a bit shy; a little insecure. She compensated by doing what she was told and sucking up to her teachers as much as possible, and in return for this and some requisite route memorization, she earned good grades and was very near the top of her class. That was why it had been so easy to tempt her. Academic success was a wish that was within his power to grant.
That was why he had chosen her. That was the ONLY reason.
Still…
"Gee, did I scare you that much, that you had to have me institutionalized for life? That'll teach me to interrupt Zita's all-important relationship with her grade-skool teacher. I was just an easy target, an easy 'A.' I never did anything to you. I always tried to protect you. And," he added under his breath, "It's been TWO years."
Zita's I-just-ate-worms face grew more disgusted. "Institutionalized? What are you TALKING about? I think that giant head is what makes you nuts! It must be full of craziness or something."
Dib flinched. "You don't even REMEMBER, do you? You never even HATED me, Zita. You never cared enough."
She stared at him, blank and innocent. He sighed, trying to calm down. How could he blame her? He had only been on the receiving end of an inevitable situation. There was no bully more vicious than a weak person who had gotten a taste of power, a chance at the upper hand over one still weaker. Dib should know.
"Listen," he said softly, nearly a murmur. "I'm sorry. I'm …I'm not mad at you, Zita. It's okay. That's not what this is about. I'll protect you, I promise, and nothing will happen to you. I won't let him hurt you."
"What are you babbling about now, you freak?"
Dib shut her out; NOW it's time to be clinical, she's a subject from now on. Nothing more. He drifted, eyes half-closed, to a small compartment towards the back of the room. He could find it even without looking.
He opened it with the lightest touch, his bright eyes searching its interior.
This was where he kept Zim.
Dib ran his hand over the surface of the cool, oversized metal egg. He closed his eyes. Sleeping…
He drew it out, wrenching his eyes open, and cradled it against his chest.
She was still shouting. "What are you doing back there?"
"Computer," Dib addressed the ceiling.
"What is it now?" Exasperated, but not nearly as much as it had been, before IT happened...with its...previous master. Still a bit appreciative of him, even.
"Please re-activate and attach this to the…to the specimen." He handed it off gently, almost reluctantly, to one of the extended metal arms. It felt so COLD…
"Um. Right away, Master."It…he…disappeared up into the ceiling. And, after a few moments, re-appeared inside of the tube, with Zita. Dib approached her, dragging one foot slowly after the other, eyes fixed on the ground before him. When he spoke, his words were leaden and callous.
"It doesn't hurt. You won't feel anything. Just let it happen. It'll all be over soon."
"What are you…"
The egg glowed above her, and Dib's makeshift seals came undone. Unraveled. IT was ready and waiting now, eager to connect. The cables don't make any sound as they slide in. You don't even notice…and you don't even feel him at the back of your mind for a few moments before he closes in, overwhelming, overcoming…
No sound..."What the heck is this thing?"
Zita clawed at her back, frowning. Dib moved in closer, face a mask; time to begin.
"Computer, monitor the subject. All scanning processes activate NOW. The Pak, too. Be prepared to disengage at my command."
"Okaaay." The blue lines encircling Zita glowed more brightly, and a fine web of harmless electricity filled the tube. Collecting information. Leaping within like bottled lightening.
"And why have you been talking to the walls?" Zita narrowed her eyes, suspicious at last. "You're gonna do some sorta freaky thing to me, aren't you? One of your weird, paralunatical experimental things. Well, I don't have to stay here and take this from you." Zita pressed both of her hands to the tube's wall slowly, fingers splayed, looking right at Dib. "You're just a crazy weirdo, you ugly, stupid…disgusting…DIB."
His name, said with such utter loathing and revulsion. Like it burned her lips and had to be spit out, before it did further damage. Dib's eyes widened and he stepped forward, anxiously, placing his hands on hers exactly, through the glass. "That's right, Zim…come on…"
Zita looked at him with horror. He face, contorted with hatred a few moments before, lapsed into the countenance of a terrified little girl. She glanced down at Dib's hands and withdrew hers from his, as quickly as if she'd touched a hot stove. "Zim…what are…he used to sit behind me, right? I thought you said he moved to England…is…is THAT what you told them, you filthy earth-monkey?"
Zita clamped her hands over her mouth, then threw herself back against the opposite side of the tube, as far away from Dib as possible, nails scraping against the sides. She flattened herself against the clear alien material, tendrils of blue flame licking her from every direction.
"What's going on, Dib? What…I'm so scared pathetic dirt children…I'll kill you, I'll KILL all you please tell me what's happening!" She gripped her head, and sank to the floor. Sobbing, cringing, curling inward like the frail white mice Dib had been borrowing from his father's lab. That terrified expression; the kind that had wasted so much valuable experimentation time, that hindered his vital research...
"You should relax," Dib's eyes followed hers to the floor. "You won't be able to fight him off for as long as I did."
"Who? Zim? How…how could I allow myself to be trapped among these smelly HUMANS for so long? I'm even starting to SMELL like them…my superior help me, Dib, whatever I did, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…I'll destroy you ALL for this. Just wanted a good grade in class...pathetic, squirmy fools. Thought we would be studying I shall watch you BURN and WRITHE and SUFFER. Mom…!"
More sobbing.
"Mom..."
Dib watched her, still pressed against the glass, as the computer collected information at an unimaginable pace. The blue lightening-web flared, undulated, dissipated, and clotted.
And after a few moments, the crying ceased.
The figure within the tube stood up. She looked around herself, thoroughly lost, obviously confused. After a few moments, her eyes found Dib, and they narrowed to merciless, deadly slits of white and brown.
"Dib."
"Zim." Dib took a step away from the tube, and smiled. "Welcome back."