Th plot thickens!
I really would like some reviews please.
I do not own Invader Zim.
-----------------------------------Planning and the Back Way
In the depths of miles upon miles of machinery pulsating dimly with a dark iridescence, separate from the humming of working equipment there is a steady stream of clicking. Click after click after click after click, the clicks growing rapidly closer together, meshing maddeningly into one long source of sound.
clickclickclickclicklclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclick.
There came a squeal.
"Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!"
pause
"Gir, what does 'keeping absolutely silent' entail?"
silence
"The total absence of all noise, even Gir!"
"Then why are you still talking?"
clickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclicklcickclickclickclickclick!
"Hmmmmmmmmmmmm…..I dunno!" Gir exclaimed, then promptly did a handstand and made a zipping motion over his mouth.
"Thank you Gir, keep it up and we can have tacos tonight. Yes, there will be a taco feast of such a grand proportion that it will be remembered for a year and a day," Zim muttered, the words his mouth was letting past his lips not computing in any sound receptor gland. He was in that invader mood again, and slowly the world was losing its clarity, all was fading except for the computer screen in front of him.
clickclickclick.
"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!" Gir abandoned his silence and immediately rocketed off of the ground and zoomed around the facility, screaming his elations all the while.
Zim did not hear.
Zim was gone now.
clickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickCLICKCLICKCLICKCLICKCLICK!
Gir might have tended toward the more mischievous thoughts that came with the programming of all SIR units, even he, as dysfunctional as he is, had Gir been able to read just what it was his master was so feverishly typing.
On the screen there was a great mass of typing, paragraph after paragraph of the Irken language that no human could ever decipher. All of these letters, words, phrases, entire pages of script were a complex series of equations and programming language, not too unlike the earthen binary system of zeroes and ones.
The first monstrous block of text-like instructions were a series of commands and orders of what the author wanted, and had the computer's responses on things that could be done, things that couldn't be done, recipes for waffles, and virtually anything that could help the outcome of the mission. The overall answer, a seemingly insignificant line of script with no distinguishing mark except for a small flashing light answered whether the vast piece of programming, that would attain the overall goal, could be done.
It could.
The second, even larger block of text and characters that could have been numbers were a set of rules and guide lines for the actual equations that coded each miniscule step in the execution of the plan, and the equations themselves for many actions. There was formula after formula, laws, theories, new concepts combining both the novel and the old into something barely certain, barely real. Unthinkable things occurred in these lines of otherworldly mathematics, the defiance of gravity, the change in reality, the jerking of bodies from place to place with a vicious brutality, all of the products, the solutions, of this one master plan.
The last sequence of alien language was not as long or tedious as the first two. This was the result of the planning and factoring combined, this was the plan step by step, as close to English as it would ever get. If one could read the language they would see that the plan was preceded by a little scribble of domestic records, a diary.
--Log
I have thought that many of my plans have been 'the one', but never have I had a feeling as profoundly AWESOME as this. That 'superior' feeling that I'm sure the tallest feel all of the time has come over me more strongly than ever before, and it calls to me. The credit for the idea of this plan, ironically enough Log, should go to that stupid human Dib, but I'm not that gracious. ;D The Earth and its hanger-ons shall feel the wrath of the entire Irken army when I am done with them! MWUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
From there came the plan, the plan that had assured Zim before it had even been fully hatched that it would put all of his other plans to shame. Contained in the mass were things like, theories of light-speed and the telekinetic movement of objects, the transportation of things place to place using only a cold energy that could only be translated to "Arakeen", and oddly enough, Isaac Newton's laws of relativity. These were the very bases of the plan, these were what defined it in its place of evil.
Zim stepped back from the computer, eyes quickly reading what you or I could not, admiring his handiwork before reaching out with one hand, a hand that once would have shielded what is now a trivial piece of paper from harm, and pressed a single button.
"DOCUMENT DELETED!" declared the computer in a foreboding voice.
It was done.
The first step of the plan commenced rapidly.
A little disk popped out of a slot in the computer. Zim grabbed it as if it were nothing, and opened a communication line with Irk.
The screen blipped once or twice before bringing up an Irken soldier, looking quite harried and annoyed.
"Where can I direct your call?"
"I must speak with my tallest," Zim said coolly twiddling the disk between two fingers.
The drone's hand went to push a button, but stopped. She shoved her face up to the screen, plainly inspecting the caller. After a few moments, her eyes widened with incredulity, "You're that one invader aren't you? Zim is it?"
Zim cocked an invisible eyebrow, "I suppose you may have heard of me."
"The tallest are in a meeting right now, but even if they weren't, they'd never talk to you!" the drone smirked, "Disconnecting."
"WAIT!"
The screen went black.
Zim slumped, his shoulders hunched in defeat.
This always seemed to happen.
He swung his head up and quickly opened another connection line and conducted a quick search before beginning a rapid series of typed commands. Somewhere in the lab a small grinding sound began issuing from one of the machines.
He was taking a back way.
Zim was really lucky that Tallest Red loved video games.
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WHAT COULD IT MEAN!
Haha!
I was hoping I could freak people out with the "DOCUMENT DELETED" line, I hope it worked. P
I have Ch. 5 written, but the quickness I post it with will be dictated by the amount of response I receive.