Chapter Eight

The Resisty's Term of Contract

Tallest Red must adhere to the terms offered, or it will never be brought up again. The former will agree to what the latter will be provided, and a ship will be provided to pick them up to assist in the galactic Viva La Resistance;

1.A: Release the remaining Vortians from prison; my people can migrate to a different planet in order to continue our work. We are no longer an ally, but don't wish to be hunted.

1.B: Listen to what Zim tells you no matter how wild;

2.A: You will stop laying on your lazy butt and fight with us on a ship

X

X Lardicoddus Nartum

"Sorry about that, I ran out of paper," Lard Nar apologized on the monitor, but Red shook his head not caring about that. He was still in disbelief that he was going to rely on Zim, of all the aliens in the galaxy…"As I mentioned before, this won't be brought up again, and we are running short on time. Gin Tonix told me that more activity has been seen in space, and these red waves are getting more intense with each passing day. We...probably don't have a year, chap; so, as best start now and fight. Now, do you understand why I need you? Get off your lazy ass for once." Red was silent, angry that Lard Nar spoke so bluntly. He hated that a lowly Vortian was barking orders at him, but he had no room to argue, without him or Purple at their helms; it meant that the empire was slowly dying. Komb was a lifeline but for how long? Red gritted his teeth as he wrote down his name in an Irken cursive before putting it through the transporter. Lard Nar beamed.

"Well, I wasn't expecting a yes so quickly!" Lard Nar chuckled.

"Put a sock in it!" Red snapped, "I signed it, now explain to me what you what, you stinky goat."

Lard Nar coughed politely, "Tell me, Red, have you ever rode a military gunship before?"

"Back in training, yeah, but what of it?"

"You're flying one."

Red seethed, "Of course I am," he grumbled. Lard Nar gestured to the gauntlets with his fingers, and Red glared, "What about my gauntlets?!"

"I heard rumors you never really cut off your thumbs," Lard Nar explained, "How in the bloody hell are you going to maneuver around and shoot with weapons that don't work for two fingers?" Oh, his thumbs, no one else on Irk knew about his blasphemy to tradition other than Purple, "Take off your suit now too. I mean you are driving." Red placed his gauntlet on the table and unhooked two locks, there was a breath of air and a heavy clunk. Red moved his thumb and played with it against his fingers. Lard Nar had a small smile in relief, the universe had a chance, but Red was easy...next was Purple.

Juxteen prowled around the city, dragging two human meals by his hands but was disappointed at how bland they tasted, such a poor tasting snack, they all tasted the same. Good heavens, mortals were absolutely bland shits compared to Dib and Juxteen had to accept he was stuck as a boy, Zimalyon's little love interest. It was irritating, perhaps it was because Dib was weak as a child and Juxteen would've preferred an adult. If he couldn't feed himself, he had to feed his form. "Ah shi'dalangh!" Juxteen sighed, throwing the carcasses into two garbage bins and kicking them down a road, "I've had nothing and utterly to do! I don't sense Zimalyon here, he's on another planet and ohh, I'm starving! Humans are either flavorless or too spicy!" he fumed. He began to scurry on the nearby wall, crawling on all fours as he observed the city like a wild lizard, his body twisting like taffy as his eyes bulged, "Ah, but I sense chaos in the air, and the laboratory in particular has a nice smeeeeeell."

Professor Membrane struggled putting in a large reactor into a large computer shaped like a scallop shell with wires weaving inside a bulletproof glass; a luminous brightness came from the wires as he tested a holographic shield. He closed the reactor, before pressing a button that released small gun pellets; some of them bounced off the hologram sphere while a few managed to pass through and puncture the glass behind it. Professor Membrane was highly dissatisfied with the result, the probability calculations were off, way off, earth had no chance if it was going to be impacted or assaulted by the large space anomaly. "No, no, this simply isn't going to work!" Professor Membrane fumed, "This shield needs more layers, and needs to be remade!" he contacted Simmons by pressing the dial on his wrist, his frames lit up and he let out a yelp when he noticed in the corner of his eye, was a much younger Dib with a sadistic grin on his face.

"Sir?" Simmons called, "Mister Membrane, is something wrong?"

"Uh...provide more reactors for extra shielding, an apparatus override and a redesign, Simmons."

"Got it, sir!"

Professor Membrane hung up and glared down at the hallucination, his hands to his hips as he towered over the boy. "You're not real!" he snapped, "You're just a side effect caused by carbon monoxide!" Professor Membrane tried swiping his hand only for this young Dib to grab his wrist tightly, the professor flinched in pain as he felt the nerves underneath be clamped like a snake jaw. The vision of Dib smiled more, displaying far too many teeth and Professor Membrane noticed his pupils were goat-like.

"Well, well, well…" Juxteen tutted, "I expected the prophets father to be more intimidating than just some lab rat," he smirked, "What's wrong, daddy-kins? Can't face your boy?!"

"You're not my son, and you're not real!" Professor Membrane repeated, more sternly, "I don't know who or what you are, but I must ask you to please leave!"

Juxteen burst into laughter, "The more you shout I'm not real, I'm not gonna disappear. I'm not the fucking Tooth Fairy, I'm worse than that; oh, but I'm boring you, aren't I?" Juxteen kicked Professor Membrane in the stomach causing him to slump over in pain, and Juxteen made no hesitation in pouncing. Juxteen placed his hands on Professor Membrane's head and the scientist starting groaning in pain as memories swept through about Dib as if his brain was going through a flush. All those times he turned on Dib while working, they stung, they felt sore, he told himself in the past once he found time that he was going to find time for his precious children; but Dib, Dib really needed to be nurtured. Damn it, it had to take this awful monster to realize Dib was in pain…

I never expected to have children…

"Get off me, you cur!"

Juxteen wagged his finger at him, "You're not even a real father at heart, are you? I mean it must hurt being so infertile, and your wife, I feel more sorry for that pregnant deadbeat than you, daddy-kins. Did it hurt taking the icky bloody pulp out, putting it in jars? Were you sobbing always keeping the umbilical cord in fresh preservation glasses? Ooh, here's a secret I think you can't handle, you never wanted children, you fuckface double fisted liar!" Juxteen felt a sadistic excitement when he pushed the right buttons, Professor Membrane snapped and grabbed a syringe off the table, aiming to stab him as his goggles grew foggy with tears, "Do you REALLY think your SON gives a rats ass at this point? Would he still call you FATHER?"

"Be quiet! I order you to be quiet!" Professor Membrane yelled in distraught, feeling naked and exposed for his deep secrets that not even his biography covered, "I...I don't want to do this…"

"You say that now," Juxteen smirked, "How many crazy buckets did you let your son rot in?" Professor Membrane felt the syringe drop as his muscles felt weak and a cold shiver went down his spine, Juxteen let out a cruel laugh as he faded into black smoke. Professor Membrane slowly took off his goggles to wipe his tears and grabbing some tissues from his pocket before his fingers grazed against the phone. Remember to call, Professor Membrane echoed Gaz's sentiment mentally and started dialing Dib's number out of fear.

"Hi this is Dib Membrane! I'm not at my phone right now, please contact me at—"

"No, no, no…" Professor Membrane was pacing, "He usually answers right away. Why did it have to be now?!" Dib was gone, and Professor Membrane noticed he was out of range which only made it feel like a rock in his stomach. Dib does have a habit to run on his own accord for his paranormal research, but to not answer right away or dial back was unlike him. It was Professor Membrane in the end who had to clear Dib's name when his people took him in for experimenting, but would they go so far as to kidnap him?

The "user is out of range" message was mocking his maternal feelings as did that young Dib vision. He was still a father, he wasn't the best father, but he was trying so hard to at least be decent.

I bet it hurts now letting your son rot while you turned his back on him as if he was a criminal on death row, you accidentally killed your wife to fulfill her desire for children and now when you have them, you could barely give that dying wish of hers, the dark voice in the back of his head whispered, his conscience was never one to pull back.

Professor Membrane hastily excused himself, but told his assistant to follow up on any updates regarding the shield; his child, his baby boy came first right now, with Dib not answering his calls, he had to search for him. He planned to search every little hidey-hole where Dib mostly searched for a paranormal, or his favorite places to go, just anything. Juxteen watched on smugly from the parking lot, seeing Professor Membrane's black car drive off, almost screeching the tires. He couldn't wait to see the look on Zimalyon's face when he returns from his errand to face the wrath of an angry and stressed father. Zimalyon could barely handle his own parents, now he would have to face the claws of Professor Membrane. Juxteen giggled in glee as he slowly pulled out a writhing smoking ball from his pocket.

"Fucking A finally," Juxteen breathed, "Now I won't have to be stuck as a brat anymore, I can look like the prophet...ooh, Zimmy Zim Zam is gonna be pissed. So fucking pissed!" Juxteen greedily ate the ball as it squirmed, black droplets landing on the parking lot asphalt as he tasted Professor Membrane's darkness. It tasted disgusting.

Gaz had to pick up Tak from Zim's base as the Irken was too stubborn to walk back to the household, and Gir had decided to latch onto Tak, making it harder to leave. Tak sat next to Gir in the back seat, while Gaz relaxed in the driver's seat, contemplating whether to just drive home or get something to stop Tak from glaring at her as if she was the one who left her at Zim's base. "Okay, princess," Gaz sighed, "Mind by explaining to me why you were at Zim's and not in my bedroom?"

"Purple master had mortal combat with master, and she lost and she kept bouncing me against the wall, and it was like a funky roller coaster and it was like weeeeeee! I see more colors now and duckies! The duckies are shaped like master's head and they—"

"Good Irk, how does Zim even tolerate you?!" Tak shouted at Gir's motormouth.

Gaz ignored her yells, "You know how reckless you are?!" she scolded, "You've barely healed, and you decided to go into a fight? Zim and you really are alike!" Tak crossed her arms and fumed, hating to be compared to Zim, even if they shared the same brash and unpredictable behavior. It didn't help Gaz was taking sides with Zim's insane SIR unit, to Tak's point of view anyway.

"Not like you have any ideas," Tak grumbled, "The universe is poised to utterly break because of Zimalyon, while you kick back and play video games, or perhaps play your guitar. That's how it's been for you hasn't it, Gaz? Filthy. Human. Bystanders syndrome."

"If you're done insulting me, I want to ask what's your idea now, considering this end of the universe thing?"

Tak tapped her chin with her glove as her antenna bobbed as she contemplated, "Even though I left, I have to return to that dimension, to where that hideous castle resides—if I can make a volatile enough bomb it should buy me enough to make a counter attack."

"CAN I HELP?!" Gir yelled suddenly.

"You?!" Tak yelled back in return, and Gir nodded happily with his tongue sticking out like an eager dog, "How can a broken, insane SIR unit help me?!"

"I gots a code with pretty pictures!" Gir answered.

"What?!" Tak shouted, incredulous to the idea, "So you got some jpeg's and png's, big deal!"

"No, no, purple master! I gots an Ask-me code!"

Tak slapped him, "USELESS!"

Gaz had more patience than Tak, "Gir, don't you mean an ASCII code?" Gir gasped at the term and nodded, after the affirmation Gaz drove back home and parked. She followed after Tak to the garage where she pulled the brown tarp off of her old ship; she was in awe that it wasn't totaled. The ship had dents and Dib even haphazardly sprayed Dib on the side where her Irken symbol was supposed to be. Tak smiled bitterly. Ah, right, the human got it out of the mess it was in, repaired it and made it his own..Tak felt she was too late. She hated that an emotional human who was infatuated with her one damn enemy took her ship.

"Zim took my life away and Dib took my ship," Tak said, "How troublesome, but I'm taking it with me to that portal...that other side, where that castle is."

"You're not going at it alone," Gaz added firmly, "Besides, Gir is a SIR unit, right? We need to read that ASCII code."

"I got chicken scratches in mah head," Gir answered immediately. Tak let out a snarl of annoyance in response.

"Why do you want to follow me so badly? That dimension will tear you apart!"

"My brother is involved and I'm not going to let himself get hurt. I don't know how he's involved in all this, but if he's with Zim…" Tak scoffed, sibling intuition, it was admirable although she couldn't understand it very well. Tak didn't question more after that, she just picked Gir up and activated her old ship; Tak's ship let out a startled shrieking in surprise at seeing it's old master instead of the big headed brat.

"Wow, I didn't know ships could scream," Gaz said dryly.

"Y-you...you're back?! I heard from that big headed numbskull that you were gone for good! How can you be back after being lost in the void of space?!" The ship yelped frantically, it's front metallic talons trembling like hands in shock. Tak was still surprised it registered her as its original master, despite the change in hosts, it remembered.

"Yes, well...the void of drifting was a much more peaceful trip than what I endured after," Tak replied, gripping her palm into a fist, "Unfortunately I'm going to need your help to get there again but your body needs major adjusting and renovations; I promise your AI will be in intact, just see it as, um, what these bloody humans call...a glow up, or a makeover."

Gir instantly barged into the conversation, his noises of delight were giving Gaz a headache as a result from his squeals, "Ooo! Ooo! Pick meeeeee! I can help make pretty ship lady look even preeeeettier with LIPSTICK!"

"I DON'T HAVE LIPS, YOU IDIOTIC, INCOMPREHENSIBLE, WALKING TOASTER!"

"Tak, they're your species technology, you handle them," Gaz said in exasperation. The last thing she wanted was to engage in talk with Gir again like the last time, ugh, that robot had no sense of personal space. Tak looked frustrated, but reluctantly obliged, taking out a chord and connecting it within to her ship's interface; Tak's ship did not take kindly to the garbled data that came from Gir, releasing noises as if it was trying to read a defective coding like a dial up through a blender, before its body overheated and displayed a picture on the hologram monitor.

"Brain…hurts...so much...nonsense...make data...icky…" the ship wheezed.

"I think your ship is sick from Gir's data," Gaz pointed out. Tak didn't look fazed by her ship's reaction, as if this wasn't the first time it caught a computer sickness.

"Psh, she's fine, she's seen worse," Tak assured her, "Hmm...how odd...this isn't just ordinary ASCII code, there's information inside of it and it's coming in multiple layers. The computer, well, normal computers can only see so much. There's so much bytes inside containing information, it's powerful as well, it might cause a system override—good thing my ship is fitted with defenses against…"

"Just explain what's on the ASCII instead of making monologues," Gaz walked over and looked at each layer she could see from the human eye, "What're these...long symbols?"

"Irksa, ancient Irken, it's a dead language but I can only translate half of it; it says here, 'We are waiting' and these symbols here stand for 'blood party'...and these numbers here...are coordinates to the sky castle. Ship, download these coordinates, pronto, while I make bombs to annihilate it."

"Get this awful troglodyte outta my head first!" The ship yelled, "Quickly! Before it downloads more sandwich maker apps and dancing gerbil simulators!"

Zim felt himself sleeping, it was dark as if he was enveloped by heavy blankets, till he noticed he could see through the darkness an aging platform sat underneath an old ancient oil lamp. Zim felt through the darkness as he almost flailed, and stepped on stone steps that lead to the platform. It smelled of burning soil, and fire, and Zim could see from a smoky white wisp of Dib resting on the bed. Zim looked around, now affirmed that this was Zimalyon's little headspace. It was dream-like and Zim noticed gravity did not follow either, he kicked a stone and it just instantly floated in the air. Zim glanced around the dreamscape, realizing shelves upon shelves of scrolls. Zim groaned, no wonder Zimalyon was so yappy, but this was his mind in the end. Zim found a long leftover candle holder and started slamming it as hard as he could against the walls before it haphazardly dropped the scrolls after one good whack. He raised an eyebrow and threw the candle holder aside, picking up a scroll that had his name written on it by an elegant brush in Irken. He hesitantly unrolled it and nearly dropped the scroll out of shock.

Zimalyon wasn't used to Zim's body for this amount of time, "borrowing" it for battles was one thing, but Zimalyon felt old itches to smoke a pipe and aching to drink from a chalice. If they were more together, such needs would stop nagging, but they were still separate and fighting for control. Zimalyon tried relaxing on the bed only to feel his body go flying on its own and hit against the wall. Aw, not again. Zim must've found a way to control his body in retaliation for the rude body hijacking.

HEY! YOU! KNIGHT GUY! Explain this scroll thingy to ZIM before I decide to make you...uh...put your head in a fridge while the Dib watches! This'll be fun!

"What scroll are you speaking of?!" Zimalyon hissed.

The one with my NAME on IT!

Zimalyon felt his left hand place the bin on top of his head, rolled up papers and receipts scattered, "Must you?" he growled in annoyance, "We're still the same, all you're doing is hurting your own body...just explain to me what was inside of it, instead of throwing me about like a rag doll; besides, Tallest Komb has agreed to give us men to help fight Kastron. So, no need for that."

It...it details the things I've done as different Irkens in the past, different ranks and jobs that have roots within the old days of Irk. Is it true, an Irken female was made to...give birth so we can be one again? All these failures and death rates, yet, we're useful in war. Was this supposed to be my purpose too, when I was born as a smeet?

Zimalyon politely fixed the bin and sat down on the bed again, playing with his hands upon each other, letting them intertwine before speaking, "Yes, that's all we were meant to be, and mortals and our family found it beneficial. Does it anger you?" Zim didn't speak at first, "Zim?"

No...no, I'm just disappointed. I was expecting to be an all great hero to my planet, yet, I'm just a weapon, a tool!

Zimalyon stood up, "Zim, before we're going to Kastron. We need to get one last thing."

And that would be?

"My spear."