Title: Frequency
Author: Mizander
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: It seems my evil plans to steal Invader Zim for myself failed. That would mean it still belongs to Jhonen Vasquez and buddies.
Chapter 7:
Oh, how dark and alone it was here, filled with the stink of inferior species unspeakable. How DARE they put me here and the TALLEST will come for me...the Armada, oh how the Tallest will come for me, and they should have been here hours ago, but they're busy, yes, busy and they will come. The Dib and those other filthies will rue the day they stuck ME in here, but I was in the prison on Vort, why was I in the prison on Vort, but I don't like those memories, the Tallest will come for me, the Armada will be here to destroy...and...why have I been shut up...so...very...long...they will come....
With a wail, Zim resumed his beat on the walls, the doors, anything he could find to distract himself. His mouth worked as though independent of his mind, yelling the things that he was supposed to yell in such a situation. Perhaps if he kept it up, someone would come, and he would once again forget about all of the things he'd begun to think about, locked away in his cell. It had become common practice for him to keep his mind occupied with anything and everything possible since his incredible mistake during Operation Impending Doom.
Wait.
Mistake? ZIM makes no mistakes!
The very second his mind was allowed to drift, horrible things surfaced. That recording the Dib had made…no, no…FORGED…but, then - the race for their freedom, Tak and Sizz-Lor's lies that suddenly seemed less like lies and more like the truth. Even Skoodge's voice, normally so easy to drown out, to manipulate, sounded convincing. But things like those were only part of mind tricks. He was an Invader, and even the best Invaders sometimes got captured or challenged. He could get out of this and simply have faith that the Armada would arrive.
...Would they?
No. NO! An Invader could never think such HORRIBLE LIES about the TALLEST! That was why Tak had failed, wasn't it? An Invader should have unwavering loyalty! But…
The Tallest had LOCKED UP THE MIGHTY ZIM. The TALLEST had given him GIR...that pile of TRASH robot…no, advanced…no TRASH! They never ever returned his calls or KEPT THEIR PROMISES OF SUPER WEAPON TANKS OF DOOM! THE TALLEST...
...were such filthy liars. But why?
He was ZIM. And He was an UNSTOPPABLE DEATH MACHINE. Why wouldn't anyone come? Didn't anyone care that Zim was powerful? The Tallest had cared, and they'd given Zim his...NO. They hadn't ever done anything worthwhile.
...and no one will come.
It was a painful reality.
"HEY! HEY! I AM ZIM! LET ME OUT!"
Why should he be let out if the armada wasn't coming? WHY wouldn't the armada come? Why had the Tallest lied? They were The Tallest, and…Oh. Well, maybe…
A new thought occurred to Zim. The Tallest were DEFECTIVE. Yes, that had to be it. Yes, his empire was truly in trouble, with such deranged leaders in charge - no Tallest in their right mind would dare to lock up ZIM! It all made perfect sense now. Now, it was simply imperative that he get out, he needed to right this terrible wrong that plagued his Empire.
Zim's eyes narrowed. This was far more serious than anyone imagined.
Irken society required that defectives be eliminated immediately...by any means possible. He HAD to get out.
Extracting his spider legs from his Pak, the energy tips blazed to life, and began the slow and steady process of working, millimeter by agonizing millimeter through the reinforced metal alloy that held Zim captive.
---
In the end, Dib's mood had improved, the celebration night had remained fun but by the end of it, he'd been completely drained. Several of the Aliens understood in their own form, the need for sleep, and through combined efforts, he'd fashioned a reasonably comfortable bed. Mercifully, he'd been allowed to rest as long as he'd needed it, and woke up refreshed.
Carefully avoiding the lower holding levels of the Mozmen base, Dib picked his way though the still unfamiliar labyrinthine passages with a rising sense of anxiety at the lack of Resisty personnel. Surely they couldn't have been raided in the night...or worse yet - he couldn't have been stranded here.He had once described himself as obsessive compulsive and he was certain that besides the fact that Captain Lard'Nar and Skoodge at least seemed to really like him - he would not have failed to notice occurrences such as the ones he worried about.
Just as he was thinking these things, he was rewarded in his search troubles by the sound of loud voices. Following the sound with new hope, he opened the doors to an auditorium, and what could only be described as a heated argument between Skoodge and Lard'Nar.
The Vortian was practically sliding off the edge of his seat, one foot tapping nervously against the ground, and fingers digging into the material of the chair as he ranted at Skoodge. "That's INSANE! Are you trying to get us all killed? I KNEW you weren't really on our side IRKEN SPY!"
Skoodge too seemed at the end of his tether, though his reply sounded far more calm. "You may believe what you like Captain, but what I'm trying to say is that you can not spend all your time simply trying to steal snacks and supplies. You have plenty...and you need to make a decisive strike or else you will start to LOSE support if systems begin to think that you're not actually accomplishing anything!"
Twitching visibly, Lard'Nar hissed. "Then what do you propose we do!?"
This was evidently the opening Skoodge had been waiting for, and Lard'Nar's face contracted into a mix of confusion and slightly more mild suspicion as he came to the realization that the Irken really did have a plan.
When the silence in the war room had become palpable, Skoodge spoke up, voice ringing around the hall. "Has anyone ever thought of turning the tables on the Empire?"
There was another moment of silence following this pronouncement, before the other assembled members of the Resisty broke into chatter amoung themselves. From what Dib could make out of the murmurs, there was division. Some of the group was in support of Lard'Nar's suspicions that Skoodge was some sort of a spy for the Empire, while others felt that there was a pretty fair point in all of this.
Now taking to drumming his fingers obsessively on the arm rest of his chair, Lard'Nar eyed the company. "It's not a bad idea." He admitted, rather grudgingly. "But it won't work. There's not a single individual here who could look reasonably Irken. We couldn't put such a disguise on any of us."
Skoodge scanned the company himself, his face seeming to crumble slightly as he looked over the other aliens present. Dib could see, as evidently could Skoodge, that the idea just wouldn't work when faced with all those tentacles, horns and mechanical frames. Finally, the ex-invader's gaze fell on Dib, and their eyes locked.
At first, Dib had thought that the Irken just simply hadn't noticed his presence until that moment, but slowly, his brain began to clue in. "Me?" he asked, aware suddenly of all the eyes that were on him.
"You could do it Dib." Skoodge eyed the human appraisingly. "You're small enough to go unnoticed...but not so bad either; you could get into Devastis with little to no problem."
Eyes sparkling, Dib's brain went into overdrive at the mere idea. "Really? What's Devastis? Would I get all sorts of neat Alien devices? And get to pilot a REAL alien ship?"
Skoodge frowned at this, as did Lard'Nar. "This is serious business Dib." he began to explain. "There are lots of smeets on Irk who want to be soldiers, but end up as food service drones."
"Not to mention that this whole idea is completely INSANE!" Lard'Nar barked.
"No, it isn't!" Dib protested, eagerly. "I COULD do it. Give me a chance Sir! I've watched Zim for AGES, and I know lots of..."
Skoodge shook his head. "Er, Dib. I don't suppose you believe you're going to rise to any status in Irken society if you march in there with the intent to become the next Zim, do you?"
The words of Zim's leaders that had started this mess suddenly replayed themselves in Dib's brain, and some of his eagerness ebbed away. There was, however - a personal score to settle with the Irken Empire...and not to mention the fact that this whole mission was simply COOL.
"Of course..." the Vortian mused, mostly to himself "...having a spy planted in the Empire might do us some good." He returned to drumming his fingers, the wheels turning in his head. Really, the only thing about the plan that wasn't sitting well with him was the involvement of the refugee Irken. To accept the creature into their crew was one thing - but to put him in total charge of a major strike was quite another. Dib, however - presented quite a different dilemma. While it was true that the alien certainly was close in shape and size to the average Irken, they were almost totally technological beings. Dib would have to undergo a lot of biological as well as physical changes to fool the Empire into seeing him as one of their own. Judging by his over-excited reaction, this was just something Dib didn't get. He definitely wouldn't sacrifice a soldier without them being fully aware of what they were getting themselves into. "Let's say for a second that we are going to use this idea." the Captain readdressed his audience carefully, pressing forward immediately as he watched Dib's eyes light up. "First of all, I will be conducting the entire operation. ALL of them." he added, looking at Dib. The human's delighted expression quickly turned to a confused frown.
Skoodge got to his feet. "With all due respect Sir, I am the best equipped to recreate Irken equipment. I'm not a true scientist, but I am a soldier, and we are trained in..."
"I'm a Vortian." Lard'Nar reminded him icily. "We built most of your technology."
To his credit, Skoodge did sit down in a hurry, but he also glanced with worry at Dib.
"Second, it's certainly admirable that you are interested in helping us Dib, but I think you need to understand everything you're getting yourself into. This is more than just a disguise and a cool ship."
Dib frowned again, but both Lard'Nar and Skoodge took this as a good sign.
"I think we'll leave our meeting here for today." said the Captain at last. "We'll reconvene at thirty-six hundred tomorrow."
Dib hung back, waiting for Skoodge. The Irken looked more than slightly put out, but approachable nonetheless. Besides that, he absolutely had to understand why everyone seemed to think that this mission was too hard for him.
Skoodge seemed to be expecting that question, or perhaps dreading it, as his antennae flattened to his head at Dib's approach. "I'm sorry Dib, I just don't think that becoming Irken is something you want." he said before the human could say one word of greeting, confirming Dib's suspicions.
"Is that all? I mean - I'm not BECOMING Irken, I'm just...dressing up like one. You didn't become an alien from the planet you conquered, right?"
Skoodge sighed. "Lard'Nar may not trust me, but I'm quite sure he agrees with me on one thing. You don't really know enough about my people to know what you're getting into. I'm not just talking about using Zim as a role model either."
"Then, what are you talking about?" Dib asked, frustrated. He was tired of all this beating around the bush. He just wanted an explanation.
"Where to begin?" Skoodge spread his hands. "To get anywhere near the heart of Irken society, you're going to need to be a soldier, and if not the elite – at least fairly impressive. The training is TOUGH. More importantly, however - presuming you're trained adequately, there's something far more serious." He turned around and pointed over his shoulder at the device attached to his back. Dib knew it well as Zim wore one exactly like it. He'd never really thought about it being more than a mechanical aid however. "This is a Pak. It's attached to my spine, and it's got..." Skoodge struggled to explain himself. "...well, it's my brain."
Dib blinked. He pointed to his head to demonstrate. "...You mean, your brain isn't...here? What's in your head, then?"
"We've got a meat brain in our heads. It's just controlled by the Pak." Skoodge looked thoughtful for a moment. "The Irken lifespan, while physically finite, is mentally infinite. If a Pak is given a new host, the Irken can live on. That's the theory anyway."
"It doesn't work?" Dib asked, temporarily distracted.
"Yes and no. A Pak that attaches itself to a sentient host will manipulate the brain of that creature, at cost to the host's life. Paks do not symbiotically mesh with any other species besides Irken. Furthermore, past attempts to attach a Pak to a new Irken body usually begins well, but ends up causing serious mental defectiveness. Defective Irkens are to be by law erased, however if the Irken lead a good past life, then their data is supposed to go into the collective."
Dib was sincerely confused. "So...what does all this have to do with me?"
Skoodge laughed a little, but it was devoid of humor. "Sorry. I got off on a tangent. Point is, these Paks are like an ID system for Irken society. They're closely monitored in several fashions, both as a data device and also physiologically. If there's something unusual about the Pak, then you're going to have to have it checked and corrected. In the process of that check, any technician would immediately come to the conclusion that you're not really Irken, and your mission would end up being over before it started."
"So...you'll just have to make me a really good Pak then." Dib said.
"I know you're excited about the idea of this Dib, but LISTEN TO ME." Skoodge said. "The Captain fully intends to make you a 'really good Pak'. All of the difficult hacking that's involved aside, it's also going to have to be attached to your spine, and your entire personality will be transferred from your meat brain...to your Pak. Just like an Irken. After that, they're not going to be able to reverse the process."
Dib's face changed, as realization finally dawned on him. "You mean, all that stuff would be permanent?"
"Yep."
"I...see." The human looked at his toes, sitting down heavily in the closest seat and trying to regain his thoughts. Skoodge excused himself quietly and Dib barely noticed. "I'd have to change permanently." he informed the empty room. His voice echoed unnaturally off the walls, but it helped him to think. It really started there, with all the abnormalities he possessed. For a human, he engaged in bizarre behaviors that back on earth had cost him social credibility. He was certainly alienated, even from the other members of his own family. On that note, he fully realized that he didn't have a whole lot to go back to, never mind look forward to... unless of course the Irkens really did decide to attack Earth. Judging by the current situation, this wasn't looking likely.
On the other hand those wedgies, name-calling and occasional recess scuffles were trivial trials and looking pretty appealing when faced with permanent change and a possibly fatal mission.
Again, Dib paused in his thoughts. There was something else too. His whole life he'd been hell-bent on protecting Earth and saving mankind. Mankind didn't need to be saved, and might never again need to be saved in his lifetime. His important mission was for all intents and purposes, over. He could just go home, say he grew out of aliens and paranormal studies, follow in his father's footsteps and become rich and successful. Maybe get a nice girlfriend. How long had he been gone? Perhaps Gretchen had gotten her braces off by now, and she'd always seemed to like him. Or, Zita was pretty cute, and might warm up to him if he said that he was going to start devoting his life to something clever and important...like...uh...
Then, there was Zim. Any way he looked at it, life on Earth hadn't had the same flair before Zim showed up, and nothing he'd done in his father's lab had ever been half as much fun as tinkering with stolen Irken technology from the self-professed Invader's lab. It was hard to view Zim as anything else besides his arch rival, but in the past turn of events that animosity towards Zim no longer made sense. The REST of the Irken empire...well, not Skoodge, but he wasn't a part of the Irken empire anymore either...but those leaders, they were hideous devils and it wouldn't sit easy on his conscience to leave the Resisty to deal with them on their own. Especially not when he could be the only one who could help!
Standing up, angry at himself and his own jumbled up thoughts that ranked of cowardice and indecisiveness, Dib finally turned to leave the war room. He threw open the doors, unsure of how long after the meeting he'd remained, and no closer to a decision than he had been in the first place. A sudden noise like a badly built ship taking off startled him finally out of his concentration, and he looked up in alarm, catching no more than a momentary blur of something as it hit him full force, and bounced off onto the floor.
"BIG HEAD BOY!" GIR leapt up, apparently unfazed by the collision, and invaded Dib's personal space immediately thereafter by throwing his arms around one of the human's legs. "I missed yoooo. I missed yoo bad!" He reached into his head cavity and pulled out what appeared to be individually wrapped slices of processed cheese. "GRRR! CHEESE!"
Dib hadn't really wondered what had happened to the robot, he'd just assumed that GIR had been dismantled after their arrival. It didn't surprise Dib when the stupid thing started wailing up a storm either. Screaming and crying wildly, GIR hugged Dib's leg tighter still. "I miss my Master....I MISS MY MASTER!" A second later, and the SIR unit was all smiles again, calmly eating the cheese. Dib took the opportunity to escape, but for once GIR had made sense, in some strange way.
He missed Zim too. And after all, wasn't that why he was here in the first place?
---
Author's Notes:
Mighty Crap, that took long. Real Life caught up with me, but since I'm looking forward to the next chapter, maybe it won't take so long to get out. Also, some shameless advertising for those that read these things: I've got the first chapter of the ZADR fic up: "The Only Way is Up".
Guess I don't have much left to say, but hope the chapter was an alright read. REAL SCIENCE is consuming my life at present (read: Finals) so, expect much longer waits between chapters....