A/n: So…here we are, again, kids. Another chapter of YOLT, full of angsty and pseudo philosophical goodness—part of your balanced breakfast or something.
Ended up getting more reviews than I thought I would on that last chapter. Thanks, guys! Really. Means the world to me. I thought that reviews would be lax, considering there wasn't any action in it at all.
As I write this note (which is before I've started the chapter) I'm up to 190 pages. This is the single longest thing I've ever written and it's just getting longer and longer…NaNoWriMo (or National Novel Writing Month, which is every November) states that in order to "win" their contest you should have written 175 pages or 50, 000 words. Maybe this November, I'll actually be able to do it, considering every other year I've been intimidated by that much writing. (For those of you who don't know, NaNoWriMo is a "contest" where you write a novel in a month. There isn't a prize, really, that I know about, aside from personal satisfaction, but those I know who've done it all say that it's a great experience. The site is www(dot)NaNoWriMo(dot)org if anyone is interested.)
References!
-"Looks like we've got a Van Halen fan on our hands" "The song is 'Hot For Teacher" not "Hot For Librarian": This one was explained (which I did as an afterthought, cos I doubted that anyone reading this would listen to Van Halen to get the reference), but is, in fact a reference to the song "Hot For Teacher" by Van Halen. Go. Download. Now.
-"Hey, Old Dudes!": Defiantly a reference to "Men In Black" (how fitting!). The part where Tommy Lee Jones and the other guy are arguing cos the worlds going to be destroyed and Will Smith notices the mural of the "spaceships" at the Worlds Fair and wants to know if they still work.
-"Well exCUSE me for wanting to be in the spirit of things!" Ok. This didn't work as well, because I couldn't figure out a way to add the "Princess" in there, considering it was Erin talking to J and not the other way around. In my head, however, the "Princess" was there, which makes it a reference to the old "Zelda" cartoon. Link would always say that to Zelda—at least once an episode—"well exCUSE me, Princess". I got into many a playground fight because the boys in my first grade class, or however old I was, decided to adopt this phrase and it drove me Nuts.
-Dib has carved into his desk the words "Big Heded Freak! Go home!": This is a reference to the first (and I guess the third, now that I think about it) Silent Hill games. At the end of the games, in the Nowhere world, you find a desk that is separated from the others that has the words "Go Home. Thief. Drop Dead." carved into the surface.
Yeah, yeah babble, babble, ramble, ramble. I'm going to say this now, but the plot of this Test isn't very unique. At least not to me. The basis of it has been done before (but then, so had Dib going insane like I did in the Blood Chapter…). Read on, and you'll see what I mean, but I just thought that it was fitting for the Sin.
DISCLAIMER: Has anyone noticed how it gets progressively harder to come up with cute and funny disclaimers? I'm just gonna say it straight out: I don't own IZ.
You Only Live Twice.
PART SEVEN: In which Dib wins the game.
Main Entry: 1pride
Pronunciation: 'prId
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English, from Old English pryde, from prud proud - more at PROUD
1 the quality or state of being proud: as a inordinate self-esteem : CONCEIT b a reasonable or justifiable self-respect c delight or elation arising from some act, possession, or relationship parental pride
2 proud or disdainful behavior or treatment : DISDAIN
3 a ostentatious display b highest pitch : PRIME
4 a source of pride the best in a group or class
5 a company of lions
6 a showy or impressive group a pride of dancers
In the end, he didn't even have the decency to struggle. He just lay there, limp between the two soldiers that were holding him, staring at me with those eyes of his—only one its true colour; the other still covered by a contact. He stared at me as the soldiers drug him past me, up the walk and to the waiting unmarked van, turning his head as they passed so that he could maintain the eye contact.
His gaze made me uncomfortable, but I refused to look away. I had already proven physically that I was superior; that I had finally been the one to win our little game; now I had to do it mentally, as well. I had to show him that I held no remorse for my actions. I had to show him that I was the dominant one. I had to show him that I was the better soldier, in the end.
I had to lie to him the same way I was lying to myself.
It was raining when they took him. His skin smoked and blistered and burned where each drop hit him, but he still made no move to struggle, allowed no sound to escape his lips. He just stared, only breaking the gaze when his head couldn't turn around far enough to hold it any longer. It was only then that I moved from my spot by his front door, which stilly lay wide open, revealing all of its secrets. I walked behind them, my head held high and proud, keeping up my mask of being in perfect control of the situation.
He stayed silent until he was loaded into the back cargo area of the van, his arms held behind his back my manacles at his wrists. As the van doors began to shut, he stuck his foot out, not even wincing as the heavy metal door made contact with his shin.
It was the only move he had made so far to fight against his fate and it caught my attention thoroughly—which I'm sure was his intention.
His eyes still riveted on mine, he allowed one word to escape his lips, "Why?"
There was no need to elaborate. Six years of studying each other's every move had made it so that he and I rarely actually had to speak, anymore. We were able to communicate with only our eyes, our bodies. He knew the reason that I had finally sweat and bled enough before the Swollen Eyeballs to convince them that my findings were real and that they needed to come and take him to the labs. He knew just as well as I did—he was in my head just as much as I was in his. The fact that he needed me to say it aloud; that he needed to hear the words with his ears instead of with his mind and soul and instincts…I could tell in an instant that his feelings of betrayal far surpassed mine of guilt.
"Because I'm tired of playing, Zim," I answered, quietly, talking around the long lock of hair that the rain was plastering down in the middle of my face, "I need the game to be over. I'm a grown up, now. It's time for me to put away my toys."
The look he gave me flashed from hurt to anger to defeated acceptance all in a matter of seconds. He retracted his leg from where it was blocking the doors and curled into himself in the back of the van, focusing his mix-matched eyes on the wall farthest from the doorway. I nodded to the soldiers on either side of me to finish closing the doors, and then stepped back onto the sidewalk as the van started and pulled away.
I stood there for a long time after the van had disappeared from my sight. Alone, cold, and wet, convincing myself that this is what growing up was all about. Without another look towards the ugly green house with its wide open door, I began the long walk home.
-
"You're dripping on the carpet." My sister's voice rose, disembodied, from the couch. She was lying beyond my view, the only indication that she was in the room, aside from her voice, was the beeping of her GameSlave.
"I'll clean it up in a minute." I mumbled, trudging towards the stairs, wanting only to get out of my wet clothes and into a hot shower.
"That isn't going to help the fact that you're dripping everywhere now." Gaz stated, sitting up so that I could see her.
I glared at her. I was not in the mood for her bitching right now.
"What do you want me to do, Gaz, huh? Strip down to my boxers before I go upstairs so I'm not tracking the water through the house?"
She scrunched her nose at me in distaste, taken aback.
"Ew, no. You in you underwear is the last thing that I want to see. You could at least take off your jacket and hang it up or something."
I sighed, but did as she asked, ripping the trench coat off of me and then stomping to the kitchen to hang it over the sink. Stomping back out, I stood in the doorway, and flung my arms out at my sides. "There. Are you happy, now, Princess? Anything else I can do to make your life easier?" I spat.
She glared at me, dangerously, from underneath her bangs. I was treading on shaky ground, now, I knew, but I didn't care. Let her beat me up—I wouldn't feel it at this point, anyhow.
"What the hell is wrong with you, tonight?" She asked, indignantly.
"I don't want to talk about it." I stated, making my way back towards the stairs. She jumped over the back of the couch and put herself in my way.
"No, fuck that, what the hell is wrong with you?" She demanded, her small hand on my chest to impede my movements.
I looked down at her hand and then up at her face. I pushed her away easily with one arm. No matter how much stronger than me she was when we were children, years of battle and training had made it so that, if she ever wanted the upper hand, she would have to work for it.
I heard her growling at my back as I walked away from her. "You're acting weirder than usual. There is obviously something wrong, just tell me already!"
I turned towards her at the base of the stairs, one hand on the banister, "You say that as if you're worried about me, Little Sister." I mused, my voice mocking. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then closed it, double thinking herself. I smirked, "Yeah, that's what I thought. And what makes you think that I would trust you enough to tell you anything, anyhow? Naive little girl." I chuckled to myself, and started the rest of the way up the stairs.
Buy the time I heard her muttered, "Asshole", I was laughing so hard, tears were running down my face.
-
"Good job, Agent Mothman. I commend you for your valiant effort in obtaining the specimen."
"Thank you, Agent DarkBooty." I replied, not even trying to tone down the giant grin that threatened to split my face. Even if I did try, there was no way that I would be able to, so why bother? Any trace of guilt that I had felt the night before had disappeared by morning and to be replaced by a deeply rooted need to show off my achievement and collect the praise (and apologies) that I had due.
DarkBooty returned my smile and motioned for me to follow him down the hall into the main part of the facility. "As you can see, your father has been more than generous in providing for us a section of his labs to hold the specimen. He must be very proud of you."
I faltered for a moment, my good mood momentarily shattered by the mention of my father. Yes, it was true that he was glad that my ranting about Zim had been correct, but it was more out of relief that he didn't have to deal with the embarrassment of having an "insane" son, anymore than pride. I recovered quickly, however, and quickened my pace to catch up with my mentor.
"Your specimen is being held at the end of this hallway," DarkBooty continued, not realizing that I had been lagging behind, "For now we are just doing the basic tests on the subject, finding out as much about its bodily functions from the outside, first."
As we walked, we were greeted by choruses of "Hey, congratulations, Dib!" and "I knew you couldn't have really been insane." from the people that we passed.
"We've scheduled his official autopsy to be done a week from today." DarkBooty paused as we came to a metal door that was locked with a keypad and swipe card panel. He turned to me, a sinister gleam in his eye, "I expect that you will be wanting to make the first incision, correct?"
His question caught me off guard. Me? Personally be involved in the autopsy of Zim? "Yes—yes of course!" I stammered, my grin growing wider.
DarkBooty laughed, heartily and clapped me on the shoulder, "Good boy, Dib. Nice to see you're not squeamish about getting your hands dirty."
That said, he pulled a swipe card from his pocket and, sliding it through the panel on the door, typed a few numbers into the keypad below it. He handed, then, the card to me. "This is your pass into the lower labs, where we're keeping your specimen. The code is 666777. Keep that card on you at all times. It's your security pass as well as your key."
I nodded my understanding, and slid the card into my trench coat pocket.
The door slid open, revealing another hallway, this one lined with what looked like metal detectors on either side. DarkBooty nodded for me to follow him as he stepped into the hall.
As we walked, sprays of slightly moist mist shot out of the holes in the "metal detectors." The spray tickled my face and hands as I walked and made me sneeze.
"God bless you." DarkBooty responded, automatically, "Don't worry, kid, this is all just procedural stuff. Basic sanitations and such. Wouldn't want the specimen becoming ill off of any germs that we're bringing in, now would we?"
I was tempted to point out that Zim had been living on Earth for the past 6 years, and, no matter how paranoid the alien was, if our germs could kill him, he could have been dead long ago. I bit my tongue, however.
At the end of the hall, there was another locked door, this one made of glass. DarkBooty stepped back and motioned me toward the door. "You unlock this one. I want to make sure that your card works and that you know the code."
I nodded and stepped forward. Swiping the card, I pressed the numbers and DarkBooty had told me moments before. 666777. A small infa-red light shone from a camera in the upper right hand corner of the door and ran quickly over both me and my companion. Seemingly satisfied, it disappeared and the door slid open with a hiss.
"SCAN COMPLETE. WELCOME MEMBRANE, DIB AND FISHMONGER, CLARENCE." a robotic voice greeted.
I looked back at DarkBooty who's face was tinged slightly pink. "Clarence Fishmonger?" I asked, an amused smirk on my face.
"It's a family name." he grunted, as he pushed past me.
I chuckled a bit before following him, "Yeah. sure it is."
As we entered the room, I noticed that, not only was it huge, but it was bustling with activity. Scientists and Swollen Eyeball members hurried everywhere, looking over paperwork, mixing chemicals, welding together or tinkering with machinery. I took a deep breath, allowing the smell of success and progress to fill my lungs. All of this was because of me. This was where I was finally going to make something of myself.
We were approached by a young woman not much older than I was, wearing a white lab coat. Her brown hair was pulled back into a messy bun with a few pencils and her eyes were dark behind her horn rimmed glasses. She carried a clipboard.
"Oh, there you are, Agent." DarkBooty greeted.
The girl smiled, and took DarkBooty's extended hand, shaking it warmly.
"It's good to see you, again, Sir," she answered. Her eyes then flickered to me and she glanced back to DarkBooty pointedly.
"Oh, how could I be so rude?" DarkBooty admonished himself, "Agent, this is Dib Membrane, the young man who caught the specimen that we're going to be working on. Dib, this is Agent Euro. She's going to be your lab assistant while you're working with us." I smiled and offered my hand, which she shook, firmly.
"It is an honor to meet you, Dib." she stated, her eyes boring into mine behind the lenses of her glasses.
I couldn't help but blush, a now familiar worm feeling worming its way into my gut, "Thank you, Agent." I answered.
She retracted her hand and gave a little wave, "Just call me Euro, everyone else does."
I grinned, "Okay, Euro it is, then."
"I hate to interrupt this cozy moment," DarkBooty began, sarcastically, "But shouldn't we be moving onwards?"
Euro looked abashed for a moment, "Oh, yes, of course, you're right, Sir." She stammered, composing herself. She turned and motioned over her shoulder, "If you just follow me, I'll show you to where the specimen is being kept."
I glanced at DarkBooty, who gestured that I should go ahead of him. I nodded and then followed my new assistant.
"What's going on here?" I asked, when we had caught up with her.
"The other scientists and Agents are working on various tests that we can perform on the specimen. Seeing as this is our first genuine alien, we are very determined to gather as much data from it as possible." Euro answered. Still, as we walked, I was greeted with praise from all around me. I had never felt so alive. But still something was bothering me.
I frowned, "Shouldn't the notes that I provided give you most of the information that you need?"
Euro opened her mouth to answer, but DarkBooty beat her to it, "Your notes were surprisingly thorough for the age you were when you began studying the creature, but still there is so much more that we can learn now that we have it under our microscopes, as it were."
I nodded, still frowning. All of this referring to Zim as "it" and "specimen" and now "creature" was starting to bother some small part of me. I shook my head to get rid of the feeling. That was, after all, all he really was, right? It was my own fault that I had personified the alien. Now was the time that I needed to correct that fault.
I cleared my throat, "How has he—it—been responding to the experiments so far?" I asked. We passed a few scientist putting what looked like the final touches on a large machine with two rows of spinning blades. I tried to keep myself from thinking about what it might be used for.
"Surprisingly docile, actually," Euro answered, "its barely made a sound except to protest having the pod on its back removed. Once referring to your notes, we realized why, and are now working on a way to separate it from the personality and intelligence centers of the unit, but still keep body functions."
I stopped dead in my tracks, "You're going to deactivate his personality?" I asked, horrified. Euro stopped as well, turning to fact DarkBooty and I.
"Come, now, Dib, you act as if the creature were human. We're going to cut it open, anyhow, what does it matter whether or not it has personality?" DarkBooty admonished, continuing onward, leading the way. Euro and I looked at each other and then began walking again, Euro falling into step beside me.
"Besides, Dib—the experiments—especially the autopsy—is going to hurt him. A lot. He's going to be alive and conscious when you cut into him next week—that's the only way we can get accurate results. It would be kinder if we rid him of any knowledge of what is happening." she whispered as we walked.
I nodded my understanding, and then something occurred to me. "Hey! You called Zim a 'him' instead of an 'it'!" I pointed out.
She looked surprised for a moment, raising her hand to her mouth. "I…I did, didn't I? Uh, well, you see…I've been reading your notes so excessively, lately, that I feel as if I know him as well as you do. I'm sorry, I know that we're not supposed to personify the alien, but—"
I reached out, laying my hand on her arm to quiet her, "Hey, don't worry about it. I wasn't yelling at you. It actually makes me feel better, knowing that I'm not the only one who realizes that Zim is…Zim." I stated.
She smiled in gratitude and then fell silent. Her face twitched, slightly, as if she were still mentally berating herself, but I decided not to say anymore on the subject. Nor did I really have the chance, because in a few moments my thoughts were interrupted by DarkBooty stating, "And here we are."
In front of us stood a glass box, not unlike the cages that are in zoos, nowadays, except without the "lifelike natural habitat". Behind the glass sat Zim, huddled in a corner of the box, his knees pulled up to his chest, his arms around them in a fetal like posture. His eyes were closed, his head resting backwards against the glass. There was a tag-like device pierced through one of his antenna.
I stepped forward and pressed my hand against the glass. As if sensing that I was there, Zim lifted his head and stared at me. I expected to see hatred reflected back at me, but instead I saw nothing. His eyes were empty, the spark and fight that was so familiar, gone. This small, broken creature was not the Zim that I knew. It was a stranger.
Somehow, this made me feel better about my decision to turn him in.
"As you can see," Euro was saying, laying her hand on the side of the cage much the way I was, "the specimen has been tagged and is being monitored at all times."
"Can he hear us in there?" I asked, unable to tear my eyes from Zim's empty gaze.
Euro shook her head, "No. the holding tank is completely sound proof. When necessary, the glass can be turned opaque and it becomes a virtual sensory deprivation tank. We have yet to perform that experiment, however."
I nodded my understanding, still staring at the alien that I had finally put behind glass. I was startled from my reverie by DarkBooty's hand as he grasped my shoulder.
"We should be moving along, now. I have much to debrief you on about the progress that has been made so far." He stated.
"Yes, of course." I answered, finally able to turn away from the tank. As we walked away it was all I could do to keep from looking back.
-
When I walked in the front door, that day, I was greeted by a planter shattering against the wall a mere inch from my head. A very angry Gaz stood on the other side of the room, one of the Membrane lamps in her hand, poised to launch. Partially hidden behind her right leg was a small silver robot. Gir. So that's where he had run off to when we stormed Zim's base. Made sense, considering how much time the small robot and my sister had spent together within the past few years. Come to think of it, Gaz had grown close to both the robot and his master over the past few years. Judging from the murderous gleam in her eye, I guess that she had heard the news.
"Um…hi, Gaz." I greeted, hesitantly. I ducked as the lamp flew over my head. Gaz's aim wasn't normally this bad. She was either deliberately missing so that I would have a chance to explain myself before being knocked unconscious, or her rage was so severe that she couldn't hold her arm steady. I prayed that it was the former. At least then, I had a fighting chance.
"Don't 'hi, Gaz', me you traitorous asshole." she growled, reaching for another lamp from the end table.
"Look, let me explain—"
"Explain? Explain what? That you sold Zim out? That gaining a reputation other than 'that crazy Membrane kid' was worth more than our friend's life? How could you, Dib? Do you know what they're going to do to him in that place?"
"Look, I—"
"No, you look, Dib." I ducked another lamp, "I thought that you had out grown that whole wanting to destroy Zim thing. Were you just faking it for the past four years? For God's sake, you two were going to room together at the University this year! Was it all a game to you? A way to gain his trust only to betray him for an emotional thirty pieces of silver?"
"It was always a game, Gaz!" I shouted, "The entire time that he's been on this planet, it's just been a game.; one that I was tired of playing. Things change, Gaz, it was time I grew up. Maybe you should do the same."
She was out of ammo. Glaring, she reached into her pocket and pulled out an envelope and threw it at me. I caught it against my chest. A few hundred dollar bills drifted to the ground.
"Dad left that for you this morning. A 'reward' for not being insane after all. There's six grand in there. I counted it. Take it and get the hell out of here. You're no longer welcome in this house."
I looked up at her, sharply, my mouth hanging open, "But Gaz—"
"Don't. Just don't." she held up her hand, cutting me off, "If you want to be a grown up so badly, it's time you learned to live on your own. I would hate to hold you back on this grand self actualization trip you're on. Now leave."
I knew better than to argue with her when she had that look. Nodding curtly, I turned and opened the front door. As I stepped back out into the cold, I heard Gir's small voice ask.
"Why does the Bid Headed Boy hate my master, Gazzy?"
"Don't worry about it, Gir, he can't hurt you anymore. Let's go see if there's anything to eat in the kitchen, alright?" my sister answered, surprising warmth in her voice.
I sighed and closed the door behind me, walking towards my car. Time to find a hotel to hole up in for the night.
-
"Dib, how does it feel to be the first to discover extraterrestrial life?"
"Mr. Membrane, what is the status of the alien life form?"
"Hey, Dib, how's it feel to not be crazy anymore?"
No matter where I went, the questions were endless. Reporters, scientists, kids I used to go to school with, they all wanted to listen, now, to hear what I had to say. I was important. I was somebody. I was Sane. I spent my afternoons in the lab, studying and experimenting on Zim, my evenings going over paperwork in the living room of my new apartment. The date of the autopsy was quickly approaching. and there was still so much that we needed to learn. Euro had informed me that, while the autopsy had to begin with him alive, the chances of him actually surviving the whole thing was slim to none. We had to gather as much information as we could before we proceeded.
Finally, it was Thursday night. The night before the autopsy. After eating dinner by myself, I toasted the grand occasion with a bottle of champagne, drinking myself to sleep. For some reason I just didn't want to think, anymore. I needed to be completely numb in order to make it through the next day—might as well start early.
"What did you call me over here, for, Dib-Worm. I was busy working on another GENIOUS plan to doom this filthy planet. " Zim asked, walking up to where I was lying on the roof of my house.
"Which star belongs to your planet?" I asked, still staring at the sky.
"What? You called me all the way over here for that!" Zim raged.
"Yes."
He was silent for a few minutes and then I heard him sigh as he walked over and took a seat next to me. He looked up at the sky, studying it for a few minutes and then pointed.
"You see that little cluster over there?"
"Mmmhmm."
"It's that star, over there. The second one from the right."
I raised my arm and pointed to where I thought he was looking. "There?"
"No," he answered, shaking his head, and adjusting my hand, "there."
"Oh."
We fell into a comfortable silence. After a moment, Zim shifted and asked, "Is that all? Can I go back to dooming, now?"
"No." I replied, "Do you miss it?"
"What, dooming your miserable existence?"
"No, you moron, your planet. Irk. Do you miss it?"
Zim was silent for a moment, and then answered, "Sometimes. A lot. Yeah, I guess."
"Do you think that it misses you?"
My question seemed to catch him off guard, "I—I don't see how that is of any relevance—" He began.
I sat up and stared into his eyes. It was impossible to read his expression though his contacts.
"You've been here for six years, Zim. Don't you think that if the Armada were coming, that they would have been here by now?"
"What are you getting at, Stink-Beast? I am in contact with the Tallests daily. They assure me that once I've progressed far enough—"
"Oh give it up, already!" I shouted, jumping to my feet. Zim rose as well, glaring, "You know damned well that you're never going to 'progress' enough, and even if you did, your leaders don't give a flying donut about this shit hole little planet! Your mission is a joke Zim, and you know it just as well as I do. Why do you insist on continuing this game?"
"Maybe because it's all I have left, did that ever occur to you, Human? Huh? Maybe the only thing that keeps me from destroying myself is the challenge—knowing that, no matter what I do, you're going to be there to fight me, to keep me useful. My only purpose in life is to invade this filthy ball of dirt, just like yours seems to be to defend it."
"My life goes beyond defending it. I don't need this game to survive." I countered.
"Oh yeah, well prove it."
I narrowed my eyes at the alien, resolve boiling up inside of me, "Fine, Zim, maybe I will." I stated, and then, turning, walked to the ladder that was propped against the side of the house.
I awoke with a start to the sound of my alarm. Running my hands over my face, I breathed in deeply, willing the remnants of the dream away. That had been the last time that Zim and I had spoken, only a month or so before the raid on his base. The final straw. The one that broke this camel's back. The reason why Zim was not at all surprised when I showed up at his front door with the freaking SWAT team.
Climbing out of bed, I headed for the bathroom. I needed a hot shower. Nothing like scalding yourself to make you forget.
-
"You don't have to do this, you know." Euro's voice stated from behind me as I washed my hand in the sink of the prep room.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"This. The autopsy. You don't have to do it."
I turned to her, reaching out my hand for a towel. Noticing a pile next to her, she grabbed one and handed it to me.
"What do you mean, I don't have to do it? Of course I have to do it. This is my life's work, Euro." I replied, drying my hands.
"Your life's work is killing your friend?" she asked, narrowing her eyes behind her glasses.
I glared at her, tossing the towel on the counter, "I don't see how it's any business of yours."
"It's not. I'm just saying that you don't have to do it. You have a choice, you know."
"What? To go back to being the 'crazy kid'? To go back to being a nobody? That's ok, I'll pass." I shot, pushing my way past her to the door. "Wash up, we start in twenty."
I felt the heat of her glare on my back as I left, "Yes, sir." She replied. I slammed the door behind me.
-
"Ladies and Gentlemen of the science community! We welcome you to the newest Extraterrestrial Studies wing of Membrane Labs. Thank you for coming to our first ever Alien Autopsy. If you would just take your seats, we shall begin shortly." The announcer stated. There was a slight commotion in the viewing booths above me as the scientists who had come to watch made their ways to their seats.
Zim lay out on the cold metal table, completely stripped of clothing, a white sheet pulled up to his midsection. He was strapped down by his wrists and ankles, and I had been assured earlier that no anesthetic had been used on him. It might botch the results of the experiment.
I stood by the table at the ready, clothed in a white lab coat, goggles, and gloves. Euro and DarkBooty stood with me, clothed similarly. Next to us was a tray of assorted knives, tweezers, vices and other such instruments. I felt butterflies in my stomach as I looked up into the booth and met the eyes of my father, who gave me a thumbs up. I returned the gesture, smiling weakly. Something was bothering me. I hadn't felt right all morning, since I had woken up from that dream. I shook my head, trying to clear it. I needed to focus. This was my moment. This was what I had been fighting all my life for. This was my due.
"We should begin, now." DarkBooty stated. I nodded, and picked up a scalpel from the tray next to me. Taking a deep breath I held it over Zim's exposed chest. In a moment of weakness, I glanced at my enemy's face. His red eyes were trained on me, empty, soulless.
I tore my eyes away, focusing on the moment at hand. Taking another breath, I prepared myself to make the cut.
"I'm making the first incision…"
"Maybe because it's all I have left, did that ever occur to you, Human? Huh?"
My hand hesitated, beginning to shake. I wiped my forehead with the back of my other arm, and tried again. "I'm making the first…"
" Maybe the only thing that keeps me from destroying myself is the challenge—knowing that, no matter what I do, you're going to be there to fight me, to keep me useful."
"Dib, what's wrong?" DarkBooty whispered, "Just make the cut, already."
I looked up at him, and then nodded, trying to will my hand steady. "I'm…"
"My only purpose in life is to invade this filthy ball of dirt, just like yours seems to be to defend it."
"I'm…" my hand wouldn't obey me. Something was keeping me from making the incision. Something wouldn't allow me to do the one thing that I had been dreaming of since I was twelve.
"Dib, what the hell has gotten into you?" DarkBooty was demanding, his eyes narrowed with frustration. I could hear a murmur begin from the observation booth.
"Were you just faking it for the past four years? Was it all a game to you?"
"I…"
"Dib!"
Both of my hands were shaking now, the force causing my whole body to vibrate. Sweat poured from my forehead in a river. I couldn't do it. I couldn't go through with it. I couldn't end the game.
"I can't!" I shouted, throwing the scalpel across the room. It hit the opposite wall and clanked to the floor. "I can't do it. I can't cut into him."
"What the hell do you mean you can't cut into it? It's an alien, Dib. It's not like it's real. Just do it, already!" DarkBooty raged.
"But that's just it, sir, he is real!"
"What the hell are you getting at, boy?"
I stopped, and considered my options. Then, realizing the right course of action, I did something that was completely out of character, something that I couldn't remember the last time I had done. I lied.
"Zim isn't an alien, sir."
There was a collective gasp from the observation booth.
"What the hell are you talking about, Dib? It can't be human! Its skin is green! It has antenna! Red eyes!"
"Skin condition." I could barely believe it as the old excuse fell from my lips. A quick glance at Zim's face showed his eyes wide with surprise, a faint, familiar glimmer glowing within them.
"I'm sorry, everyone." I stated, looking up at the observation booth. My eyes came to rest on my father. He turned away, "It was all game that got out of hand. I didn't mean for it to go this far. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to waste everyone's time and money." I looked at the ground, "I'm sorry."
"Damn straight you should be sorry!" DarkBooty shouted, "Do you know how much manpower was wasted on this project? I'm taking away your membership to this society, Membrane. You are finished in the Swollen Eyeballs. Lousy kid." he finished, stomping towards the door. I could hear the scientists above me doing the same. Soon, only I, Zim, and Euro were left.
Zim sat up, rubbing the back of his head. "I thought you were tired of the game, Dib-Worm." he said.
I shrugged, "Looks like I'm not quite ready to let it all go."
He smiled at me warily and then looked over at Euro. Following his gaze, I saw that the girl was grinning ear to ear.
"I knew it! I knew you could do it!" she exclaimed, jumping a little and clapping. I raised an eyebrow at her. "No, no, we don't have time for questions," she stated, before I could say anything. She raised one hand, her fingers curled together, "you need to get moving. Time is short, my friend. I'll see you in the next Test."
Before I could say I word of protest, she snapped.
Funny how one can get used to the sensation of falling.
-
A/n: So that was a lot shorter than normally, but, truth be told, I was kinda bored with the subject. Felt so…strange…doing something that had been done a million or so times over by other authors. Didn't really have the same excitement as I normally do while writing. However, I'm also in the middle of one of my low points in my bi-polar cycle, so I don't exactly have the energy to get excited about much, period. Damn chemical imbalances. Hopefully it didn't come out too much in the chapter, aside from making it a lot shorter than normal. Don't worry, though, the next chapter will make up for it…I hope.
References? I think that there's only one.
I'm wondering if anyone is picking up on the pattern, yet. I'll give you a hint—it has to do with the Voice. Maran Zelde is close on her guess as to what is up with the whole voice thing, though there's a little more to it. The Blood chapter was also not the first time that that force has showed itself, though it hasn't always been in an intangible form. Perhaps I am giving too much away. To tell the truth, it's something that I only consciously realized I was doing a few weeks ago.
At any rate, as always, it's about 3am, and I should be sleeping cos I have class in the morning. R and R, people. It makes the fact my eyes burn and my neck is cramped worth it. :)
-j