Zapp looked around at the perplexed expressions of Amy, Zoidberg, and Bender. "Uh, I'm all right," he said sheepishly. "Continue with the game." With that he hurried out of the lounge, shaking his head.
Zoidberg lay down his playing piece (a miniature semi-automatic rifle). "If he's all right," he remarked, "then I'm Queen Elizabeth's head. Excuse me."
The doctor scuttled away quickly, and found Captain Brannigan leaning against a wall in the corridor, rubbing his temples with his fingers. "You look like you've seen a space ghost," he said. "Is something troubling you?"
"Yes," replied Zapp weakly.
"Yes, something's troubling you," said Zoidberg, "or yes, you've seen a space ghost?"
"I'd rather not talk about it here," said Zapp.
The pallid-looking spaceman followed Zoidberg into the medical bay, sat down on the edge of a bed, and started to remove his shirt. "You won't need to do that," said the lobster.
"I always take off my shirt before a medical examination," Zapp told him, "and before Kif gives me my daily aromatherapy massage."
"Suit yourself," said Zoidberg. Stethoscope in hand, he pressed the cold metal against various parts of Zapp's chest and abdomen. "Hmm…heartrate 110 over 70…cholesterol level 135…hello, what's this?" He stepped back and extended his hand. "My congratulations, captain."
"For what?" said Zapp.
Zoidberg grinned. "You're pregnant."
"Pregnant?" said Zapp incredulously. "But I'm a man! How's that possible?"
"Don't ask me," said the doctor. "You're the pregnant guy."
Zapp heaved a sigh of frustration. "Just examine my head, all right?" he requested.
The next voice he heard was the one in his head: Don't tell the crustacean about me.
Why shouldn't I? he thought.
Because you don't want to hurt him, said the voice. Zoidberg rummaged through his bag for a medical implement, oblivious to the conversation taking place in Zapp's brain.
That answer makes no sense, thought Zapp.
Then a demonstration is in order, he heard.
"Let's see," mumbled Zoidberg, setting items aside as he drew them from his satchel. "Tooth puller, tongue depressor, scalpel, knee knocker, rubbing alcohol, snake bite kit…where is that confounded brain scanner? I hope I didn't lose it at the laundromat."
You think I don't want to hurt Dr. Zoidberg, thought Zapp. Well, I've got news for you. I don't just want to hurt him, I want to kill him. That arrogant walking seafood platter has humiliated me more times than I can stomach…
The scalpel lay on the edge of the table, glinting in the artificial light. Zoidberg stood hunched over his medical bag. This is my chance, thought Zapp, stealthily reaching for the blade. No one will miss that babbling quack when he's…
…what the hell am I thinking?
Puzzled beyond measure, Zapp gaped at his hand and the scalpel that sat only a fraction of an inch away from his fingertips. The anger…the bloodlust…it's gone. But where did it come from? I thought I was cured!
"Hooray, I found it!" exclaimed Zoidberg, clutching a small box with buttons and sensors in one of his claws. "Now then, Captain Brannigan…"
Turning, he discovered that the spaceman had disappeared.
Zapp was at that moment in the lavatory, kneeling, bowing his head over the toilet, fighting back the urge to vomit. I was going to kill Dr. Zoidberg, he mused in horror. I thought I was past all that, but now it's coming back. And the voice in my head…God help me, am I losing my mind?
Let that be a lesson to you, the voice said to him. Do not tell your friends about me, or they will suffer.
Damn you! thought Zapp bitterly. Who are you? He heard no more.
A few yards away, Leela's phone exchange with Mildred wound to a close. "I wish you good luck on your mission," said the girl. "Whatever's out there, I hope you and Captain Brannigan kick its butt."
"Thanks, Mildred," said Leela in Fry's voice. "Thanks for calling. Take care."
The moment she folded the cell phone, she was confronted by her own eager face. "Let's tell Zapp now," Fry said through it. "We're a day's journey from Earth, so he can't make us turn back."
Leela smiled. "Yeah, you're right. Let's do it."
"Here he comes," said Fry.
Zapp strode in their direction, his face a whiter shade of pale. He walked past without a word or even a nod. Leela and Fry watched him vanish around a corner and marveled at his distraught appearance.
"It's like he went to a zombie rave and got totally plastered," Fry commented eloquently.
"You don't suppose he already knows, do you?" said Leela.
"I dunno," said Fry with a shrug. "So, what did Mildred have to say?"
"Small talk, mainly," replied Leela. "She had a few questions about the mission, but I deflected them as best I could. You'd think an employee at a top-secret research lab would know better than to ask probing questions about someone else's work."
Earth, a spacious office with cherry-paneled walls and a picture window offering a broad view of New New York. There stood Mildred, wearing a white uniform with a skirt, a badge pinned to her chest identifying her as the possessor of a level-7 security clearance. Before her, atop a wide, bare, very clean desk, sat a bald, wizened, very old head in a jar.
"I've made contact with the Planet Express ship," Mildred reported emotionlessly.
"And the signal?" said the head with urgency.
"Clear as crystal," the girl responded. "The experiment was a success."
The old man's head grinned wickedly. "Eeeexcellent."
to be continued
