Decisions

"Has the anesthetic been administered?"

"Yes Professor. Everything has been prepared as you asked."

"And the specimen?"

"We're keeping it under heavy sedation, but if we wait any longer, we may lose our window."

Professor Membrane stood stoic as he peered through the coal-tinted window of the observation deck. He surveyed the team below, watching their movements as they finished final preparations.

"And my son?" he asked, his expression still well concealed beneath his collar. "Anything on his whereabouts?"

The assistant shook his head. "Still nowhere to be seen sir."

Letting out a heavy sigh, the Professor weighed his options. He knew the team couldn't hold out any longer, and if they delayed the procedure again, all of them would be arrested for interfering with a matter of national security. He couldn't do that to them again. Not to their families.

"Very well," he bowed his head. "Start the procedure."

The assistant flipped a switch and shortly after, a high pitched wail filled the chamber. The team below immediately jumped to action, and they scurried about, each member focused like worker bees on their own individual task. They grabbed head covers and gowns and bound themselves from head to toe in protective equipment to shield thier bodies from any foreign contaminants.

The professor turned away, not wanting to witness the events that were about to unfold. In the center of it all, Zim lay motionless, heavily under the influence of whatever substance they had given him. He could do nothing but lay flat on a cold stainless-steel table as the commotion buzzed around him.

"Be sure to keep the temperature at twenty degrees," said one of the scientists.

"And keep those vitals under close surveillance," said another. "We can't afford to lose any data."

The chatter echoed back through a loud speaker that filled the observation deck above. The technician manning the station adjusted his headphones accordingly, fiddling with the settings until the voices came in clear. He became so engrossed in his work, he nearly jumped out of his skin when the double doors behind him burst open.

"AM I TOO LATE? HAS THE AUTOPSY STARTED YET?!"

Dib ran into the room, sweat dripping down his back. It was clear he had been running, either since the entrance of the security gate or all the way from his house, and the look of panic along with his wrinkled old clothing told everyone he had carelessly overslept.

He looked around at the surprised faces, not liking the uncomfortable silence that followed.

"Ah! Agent Mothman!" The Eyeball's director greeted him humbly. "So nice of you to join us!"

He made his way over to the boy who tilted his head up curiously.

"Director Deadwillow?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Like any of us would miss an opportunity to see the world's first live alien autopsy," the lengthy man responded, draping an arm over the boy's shoulder. "I have to say, you really came through for us this time Mothman. I mean, a real live alien? This is about the best discovery the Eyeball's had in years!"

He stood up, shooting a finger out in excitement. "Oooh look! They're about to start the first incision!"

Dib inched closer to the window until he was right up next to the observation glass. What he saw made him wince.

Hooked up in the center of the room was Zim. He lay motionless, wired up in all the respective tech the military and scientists could give him. His body was covered in tubes and needles, and his face was withered and pale, like he hadn't eaten or consumed anything in weeks. His arms and legs were strapped down, ensuring no movement could come from them whatsoever, and the tubes that flowed into his appendages pumped in a series of liquids, each one beating in unison with what could best be described as his heart.

Dib felt the knot in his stomach grow tighter. "Is he...is he dead?" he asked, trying to conceal the shock in his voice.

Deadwillow shook his head. "He's being kept under heavy sedation," he answered bluntly. "It took a while for the professor to find a suitable formula, but eventually your old man was able to come through."

Dib looked over at his father, curious as to why the scientist would put in so much effort. The professor was facing away from him, and wholly focused on some other monitor that held the alien's microbial anatomy.

Dib heard a snort come from his side.

"A waste of time if you ask me," scoffed the director, elbowing the boy in the rib. "If it had been done our way, we would have just cut the thing open and spared everyone the headache. Eh Mothman?"

Dib gave a weak smile, but his expression faltered. He shifted his eyes back to the scene below.

The team worked circles around Zim's body, each person going about their business while grabbing carts and workstations. None of them seemed overly concerned that a living breathing organism was laying next to them. They turned tools over, examining them carefully while their glimmering surfaces caught the fluorescent light. To Dib, they looked more like miniature torture devices than tools intended for surgery.

He felt his throat tighten. "Will he feel any pain?" he asked, his voice suddenly meeker than he meant for it to sound.

The director brought a hand to his chin. "Hmm. It will be difficult to know without a comprehensive understanding of the creature's full physiology, but I suppose the anesthetic we provided should alleviate most of the discomfort."

Most? Dib felt his throat tighten further and he shifted his attention back to the operating table. One of the scientists hovering over it lowered a bone saw.

'Maybe you're cruddy little disguise worked on everyone else. But I'll get them to see the truth.'

The voices echoed in his head.

'No one will believe you.'

'They'll believe if I bring you to them without your disguise.'

The scientist switched on the tool and slowly lowered it to the alien's body.

'I'm as normal as any human.'

'There is no cure! And I will never make it stop. I told you you would rue the day you messed with Zim! Now begin your rueing. I'll just sit here and...watch.'

Dib felt his insides turn as they sliced into the tissue. When they were done, they removed the saw and shoved an apparatus further into the Irken's flesh.

He felt his eyes migrate from the opening to the Irken's pained expression. They're not even waiting until he's fully under, he thought disturbingly.

A sickening feeling suddenly twisted in his gut, and he grabbed the fabric of his shirt. His father's words echoed in his head.

'Possibilities are limited if you don't consider the moral and ethical dilemmas.'

He watched as one of the doctors slipped a gloved hand into the opening.

He felt the blood rush to his toes.

'Hahahaha. That's a good one. Help you? Why should I help you?'

'Hey! I helped you when we were transforming into giant bologna!"

'You're making it up!'

Dib shook his head. Get a hold of yourself. He came to Earth to destroy us. If I hadn't stopped him, he would have done the same thing to me.

He felt the urge to vomit as he watched Zim's face wrinkle in discomfort.

I didn't have a choice. This was the way it had to be. He knew what he was getting into the day he messed with Earth. This was the only way of saving the world!

Another doctor reached for a scalpel and made another incision. Then another and another. Soon, the whole team was shoving devices into the alien's body.

He should have never come to Earth. He should have never tried to pick a fight! Not while I was here. This was the only way of defeating him. This was the only way of stopping him once and for all!

Zim's brow furrowed again and Dib tried to hold his resolve.

I've seen a Chupacabra eat a live goat before. I should be able to handle this.

He watched as a small trail of blood made its way to the side of the table. One of the doctors noticed it, but didn't bother wiping it up.

He clenched his fists.

I did what I had to.

It was for the best.

If I hadn't turned him in, Earth could have been a smoldering heap of ash by now.

I had to do it.

I had to.

He felt the contents of his stomach continue to turn, and his body screamed at him for release.

"You know, anyone who watches you oppressively every day would notice you never actually EAT any of the food. What is it Zim? Don't like the taste? Or is it something more?"

He felt his nails digging into his skin.

"What's your home planet's name Zim? Come on Zim. Tell me! I'll find out everything about you sooner or later. I'll find out everything."

His head swirled about, the feeling of sickness growing stronger.

I can do this.

I can do this.

They were so cold toward him, so indifferent. It was like he was a mere object to be cut open. An experiment to be sampled and studied. They didn't even seem to care that he was even still alive.

I can do this. I can do this.

His body ached. The feeling of nausea growing stronger.

I can do this. I can do this.

I can't do this...

Queasiness taking over, he practically threw himself toward the nearest trash can. Once he had disposed of all his internal contents, he called out to the crowd of scientists around him.

"Someone has to stop this! He isn't even fully under yet!"

Deadwillow walked over at him. "What's the matter Mothman?" he asked patronizingly. "Can't handle a little surgery? Funny, I didn't take you for the squeamish type."

Dib glared back at the man arduously. "Can't you see that he's in pain! Doesn't it bother you that he can still feel it?!"

The director gave him an indifferent shrug. "Frankly n, and if we had waited any longer to get started we would have had to put the entire thing off another week."

"Another week?" Dib asked confused.

The director shifted his eyes. "Yes. A week. And your father insisted that you be here for the beginning of the procedure, so we waited as long as possible before getting started. If it hadn't been for him stopping us, we would have had the thing gutted and stuffed by now."

Dib fell silent. Dad had held everything up? For me? But why?

He stole another glance at Zim, not really sure why watching would bring any more comfort. The scientists continued on, unbothered by the commotion that was going on above them. He pressed his hands to the glass. "But he can still feel pain. He can still feel everything that's going on..."

"And what do you care about it Mothman?" scoffed the director, turning around to face him "It's an alien for crying out loud! Weren't you the one who brought it to us in the first place?"

Dib lowered his head. "Yeah, but I didn't think..." He fell silent, not knowing what exactly it was he was trying to say. It was unlikely they would care much about Zim's history, or even sympathize with him at all. He was only an asset to them. Something to be valued, used, and sold. Nothing more and nothing less.

Wrestling with his own consciousness, Dib took a step back. "Look, I thought I could to do this, but I can't. Just...let him go."

Deadwillow lifted an eyebrow. "You bring us the single greatest discovery the world has ever seen and expect us to simply let it go? Are you out of your mind Mothman?"

Dib glared back at him.

Deadwillow continued. "Aren't you the least bit curious about what it looks like on the inside? Or what discoveries are yet to be made? Don't you want to know how its body responds to various stimuli or how we could learn how it heals so rapidly. We could give the world the cure for cancer or come up with medical solution the world has only dreamed of! Do you have any idea how valuable something like that could be? What it could do for the human race?!"

"But it shouldn't be worth it if he has to suffer like this!" Dib shouted back, losing his composure.

The director stared at the boy coldly. "He?"

The man glanced back between the alien and the twelve year old's expression.

"You really think this thing deserves sympathy?" he continued, his face wrinkled in disgust. "Do you have any idea what that thing could have done if we had allowed it to roam free? You said so yourself, it was out to destroy the world!"

"But he was never able to as long as I was there to stop him!"

Deadwillow stared at the boy and gave a deep, sarcastic laugh. "You really expect me to believe that THIS creature, this monster from beyond the stars, isn't a threat to our very existence? What has it told you to get you to release it I wonder? Why else would you be so adamant on helping it?"

Dib remained silent, not sure how to answer.

Deadwillow took a step further.

"And even if we did let IT go," he continued, "what do you suppose it would do, hmm? You think it would just ignore this whole incident and go about its life like nothing happened? You think the public is just going to forget an extraterrestrial living in their backyard? Don't be so ridiculous."

Frustrated, Dib threw his hands in the air. "But they can forget about him! They did before when we learned about Chickenfoot! We could just say it was all a hoax or...something."

The director cocked an eyebrow. "So you're willing to gamble your entire legacy AND your father's reputation on a hoax? You're even more selfish than I thought Mothman."

Dib paused, realizing the man's angle. It was true. News of Zim's existence had already spread far out of hand, and even if he tried to cover it up now, it would destroy his father's reputation.

He sunk his head in defeat. "Look...I don't know how to fix it. I just... I just..."

"You just what?" The director interrupted, eying him scornfully. "You just thought you could barge in here, DEMAND to have the alien released, and everything would return to normal? Well guess what kiddo, that's not the way the real world works."

Approaching calmly, he knelt down to Dib's level.

"Listen Mothman, if you let that thing go now, then there's no telling what it'll do. It could get revenge on every single one of us in this room, or it could wreck havoc on the outside world. We would all be destroyed before we even knew what happened. It's safer to just end things here."

"You mean kill him," Dib replied sternly.

Deadwillow stood up. With an annoyed sigh, he brought his fingers to rest against his temple. "Mothman, I mean this in the best way possible, but you are simply too young to understand the ramifications of what's going on here. I think it is best if we remove you from the situation."

He approached a security terminal and activated the call button. The tremors of the overly sized security guard approached as they drew near.

The director waved a dismissive hand in the air. "We will proceed with the procedure as planned," he said casually. "You will thank me for this later for this."

Dib squirmed as the bulky men took hold of his arms. He scrambled to save his last chance. "No, wait! You can't do this! He doesn't deserve to go out like this! Just turn him over to me! I'm the only one who knows anything about him!"

The director ignored him and turned away.

"Leave him under MY watch!" Dib shouted, desperately trying to break free. "I can keep him from destroying the world. I did before! I can do it again!"

"And what are we supposed to do if you can't keep that promise?" Deadwillow questioned, whipping back around. It was clear his patience was wearing thin. "You couldn't even convince that thing to answer a few simple questions when you turned it over to us, and now you want to protect it? How do know what it's REALLY capable of? It could have killed thousands before arriving to Earth and will do so again if given the chance!"

"Then let me prove he's not a threat! Let me show you I can handle it!"

Having heard enough, Deadwillow ignored him and waved the security guard away. Dib's felt his pulse quicken as the grip around him became tighter. He darted his eyes around the room, searching for a quick solution. He spotted the sealed containment door on the other side.

Guess I don't have any other choice.

Grabbing his ID card from his neck, he clutched it firmly while kicking his ankle back into the security guard groin. The man fell forward, grabbing hold of the sensitive area while the boy leapt free.

Without wasting another second, Dib leapt for the door. Just evading the reach of the other guard, he held his ID up to the scanner. The door popped open with a pneumatic hiss and he scrambled to make his way inside. The doors were already halfway open when the alarm began to sound.


Judgementia

Tak struggled to keep upright as the escort guards led her down the long, narrow passageways. She knew where they were taking her. She was destined to stand trial at the Spike of Judgement where the control brains would finally decide her miserable fate.

She felt the fortitude of her stitches begin to crumble as the guard's powerful grip propelled her forward. The pace at which they traveled kept her nerves screaming in agony, but despite the pain, she grit her teeth. She was not about to give them the satisfaction of begging, especially from someone she knew they considered inferior.

When they finally reached the main chamber she was herded to the center of a platform, which was suspended several stories in the air. Surrounding it were shadowed outlines of countless Irkens, each one chattering away as they sat down in their own private, concealed viewing space. She looked up at the daunting ceiling where the massive control brains dangled at its center. The room around them was enormous by comparison, and their faceless appearance sparked as she gazed upon them.

Suddenly, the lights dimmed, and the collective chatter died down. The guards departed and she was left alone in the center of the room. The control brains illuminated her idle platform, their robotic voices echoing throughout the chamber.

"Irken Service Drone Tak. You stand here accused of treason, insubordination, and attempted murder. How do you plead?"

Tak gulped nervously.

Service drone.

The brains probably saw this as just another negligible trial. She was nothing more than an insect to them, a nuisance to be dealt with. It was probably best to just admit her crimes and get it over with.

"Guilty, your excellency," she answered trying to speak clearly.

There was a loud, unanimous gasp and the chamber quickly erupted into a series of staggering murmurs.

Tak tilted her head up, surprised by the audience's reaction. Clearly they were not used to receiving such an answer. Her eyes darted around the room, wondering what such a response would mean for her outcome. She already knew the brains hated dealing with petty affairs, but hopefully this time they were in a forgiving mood.

"The response is curious," a brain responded as its yellow-green luminescence filled the room. "We will evaluate the evidence."

Seconds later, a collection of hefty wires erupted from the ceiling and they descended rapidly to a spot behind her. She felt the tubes immediately connect to her PAK as they lifted her up, keeping her level with a projection screen that floated into place.

"Irken Tak, prepare for REPLAY. All of your memories will be made known. Your life for all to see and know."

This is it, she thought anxiously, knowing what everyone was about to see. This is when they are going to find out about Zim. About the smeet. About everything.

She hoped the embarrassment wouldn't be insufferable, but she knew once the word got out, it would be the end of everything. Zim was a stain on the Empire's record, an accident that the Tallest wanted erased from history. It didn't matter what the brains had in store for her. If she survived the trial, she would undoubtedly be ridiculed the rest of her life. Or killed.

She wasn't sure which one was worse.

The footage popped up on screen and began playing out like a record skipping over segments. The brains focused on moments that bared significance and fast forwarded through those that didn't. There were memories from her youth, moments where she struggled against bullies and instructors alike. They showed her working her way up and how she used her talents to move on to elite training. They saw her skills and her successes, and watched as she excelled at just about everything she was tasked with.

After many long hours, they finally got to the moment where she was trapped in the door on Devastis. Tak closed her eyes, lowering her head as they absorbed the data. The brains slowed down the footage at some moments and focused on segments they found interesting. They watched her repair her ship in order to escape, and tracked her arrival on Earth. They saw her attempt to take over Zim's false mission and fail miserably.

Eventually the footage skimmed over to her return to the Tallest and how the two leaders ordered her to rid the universe of its biggest idiot. Then, they watched as she returned to Earth and cornered Zim before causing severe injury to his arms and legs. They played back the footage and she was defeated a second time.

The brains trifled through her time recovering in Zim's base, and she felt her cheeks blush as one of the images froze with her and Zim tangled in an awkward mess. It was right after she fell off the gurney when he had offered to help her.

Luckily it was skimmed over just as quickly as the rest.

When they reached the point where she stood smiling triumphantly over Zim's lifeless body, there was a pause as loud clapping echoed from one of the observation booths.

"Woo! I like that part the best!"

"Yeah! Show us Zim getting blown up again! But in slow motion this time!"

Tak pivoted her head to look up where the lighting in the room illuminated. She could see the Almighty Tallest clapping happily from their own observation booth.

How can they sit there and act like this is all just a show? She frowned in disgust. After everything I worked for? They don't care one bit about me or the things I accomplished.

She tightened her fists in anger.

"Is it true that you, Irken Tak, managed to kill Irken Zim?" the brains spoke up, breaking her from her concentration.

Tak hesitated a moment, wondering how she should answer. The thunderous words vibrated off her chest, causing her antennae to sink back in defeat. She didn't want to lie, but what choice did she have?

Swallowing hard, she prayed they would see reason.

"Y-yes your excellencies. I managed to extract revenge on him for stealing my mission."

"It appears to be lying," replied one of the brains.

"Yes definitely lying. But also telling the truth."

She felt her pulse quicken as the main brain addressed her again.

"The mission that was assigned to Irken Zim was never assigned to you, Irken Tak, so it is not possible to have stolen it. Why do you lie to us?"

Tak felt the sweat drip down her neck. "I felt that mission should be rightfully mine, your excellencies," she responded turthfully. "Zim took away my opportunity to be an invader, and I wanted to prove my worthiness to the Tallest. I thought they would forgive me." She gave her leaders a crude glance. "But I was clearly mistaken."

"But YOU were assigned to DIRT," replied the brains. "You must have been aware that fleeing to Earth meant abandoning your post?"

Tak bowed her head in defeat. "I was not thinking of that at the time," she answered shamefully, hating to be reminded of that horrible place. "My only concern was becoming an invader."

The brains took a moment to process the information and the colors within them began to glow sporadically. They continued the playback until the rest of the footage was evaluated. Interestingly, the memories began to fuzz with a jumbled texture as they reached closer to the end.

"Hey, what is this?" complained Tallest Red.

"Yeah! We expected to see more of more of Zim dying!" added Purple.

Satisfied, the control brains removed the tubes and allowed Tak to fall back to the ground awkwardly.

"Further data entry corrupted. Medicinal files unreadable."

Unreadable? She looked up at the brains in confusion. What did that mean? Did something in her system cause the data to become corrupted?

She thought back to when she surrendered her information to the brood mother back on Irk. Was it possible that her memories were encoded when she had erased the data. Could the control brain have done it to protect her? Or did it happen at some point in Zim's labs? Did he have anything to do with it?

The monitor floated out of view and the control brains rang with another announcement. "Evidence has been presented. We will now elaborate."

Tak held her breath, watching as a lightning stream crossed between them. They began to review the data, communicating and evaluating in silence. She felt her pulse quicken, unsure what they would decide for her.

She began to think of Zim and wondered if he felt a similar way during his trail. It was highly unlikely since he didn't even know why he was being interrogated in the first place. But it still dwelled on her curiosity. It was amazing he even made it out at all.

Lucky bastard, she thought, a smirk forming on her face. He gets away with everything.

Eventually the colors stopped flickering and the brains lights lit up unanimously once again.

"We have our verdict," they announced.

The lights around them dimmed again and their voices filled the chamber.

"Based on the evidence provided, we have determined the assassination of Irken Zim to be an order from the Tallest and therefore NOT categorized under the classification of treason. We have also determined Irken Tak NOT to be defective, but GUILTY on the account of abandoning its post. Therefore, it will return to Dirt where it will carry out the remaining twenty years of servitude."

Tak felt her anticipation fade. Twenty years? She fell to her knees in shock. They're sending me back? After everything that's happened?

A mixture of dread and relief began to overwhelm her. She wasn't sure if she should be relieved or upset. She'd swore she would never go back to that filth ball of a planet, but now it seemed almost merciful. She had been terrified of being labeling as a defective, and even more so of everyone learning about Zim and the abandoned smeet. Now, she could pick up right where she left off. Like nothing had ever happened.

She sulked, bowing her head in defeat. I supposed I was a fools errand to expect anything else.

Feeling sorry for her actions, she readjusted her posture to bow in respect. She knew this was out of her hands, and the control brains had spoken. As a loyal member of the Empire, she was expected to obey.

"Understood your excellency. I shall-"

"That is not all."

Tak's heart stopped and she lifted her head back up to the masses.

"Irken Tak," they continued, "you will be allowed to attempt the invader's qualification exam once your years of servitude are complete. If you fail the exam, you will be forced to return here and labeled a defective. Do we make these conditions clear?"

Tak stared up at her overlords in disbelief. Was this really happening? Were they giving her a second chance?!

She placed an arm over her chest and bowed in a proper salute. "Yes. Yes your excellencies! I will prove myself to your Empire and show I am worthy of serving the Tallest. I am more than grateful for this opportunity!"

She stood up halfway, eyeing the Tallest wickedly in the corner. Even if it means sucking up to those two.

The brains glowed a calm shade of green acknowledging her agreement. "Very well. Then this session is adjourned. Please proceed to the nearest post for out-processing."


Back on Earth

Zim could hear strange noises around him. They were distant and mumbly, but loud enough that his sensory ends of his antennae could pick up on them. He felt a strange tingling sensation in his chest, like something was being shoved deep into it. He struggled to clear his mind, but the constant fog that plagued him kept his thoughts from wondering.

What's going on? he questioned, trying to make sense of everything around him. Why can't I move or use my brain...things?

The feeling was dull, like something was prodding his intestines. He tried to lift his arm, but found his limbs heavy and unresponsive. Panic settling in, he attempted to open his eyes.

He only managed to get a faint glimpse of the blurred coats before they rolled back into his head.

Ah, so that little worm-monkey must have finally caught me, Zim thought letting the anesthetic overtake him. Hmm. Unfortunate.

Off to the side, he could feel some sort of liquid being pumped into his arm and the greater he struggled, the greater the pain in his chest grew. He let his mind roam free as the drugs took effect, his thoughts eventually drifting back to Tak.

What would she would think of him while he was in this state? Would she make fun of him for getting caught? Did she even know what had happened?

He envisioned her chastising him for the sheer stupidity of allowing the humans to study him so easily. He fantasized about her laying into him, hoping for a moment where she would pause so that he could kiss her again and make her forget all about it.

The feeling encompassed him in warmth.

Tak.

He wasn't sure what had led him to this point, but he desperately wanted to blame her for everything that had happened. For once in his life, he cared about someone other than himself and what had it gotten him? He should have stuck to his training and never allowed her to get close, but he knew he had been too infatuated to really see what she was doing to him. It was like a sickness that he couldn't cure, a weakness that she had been allowed to exploit. His instincts had betrayed him, and now he was paying the ultimate price for it.

That horrible female. This is all HER fault!

He felt the sadness rush in even as his own words echoed in his mind. No. It hadn't been Tak's fault. The truth was he had given up a long time ago. Ever since the day he decided to work cooperatively with the humans was the day he inadvertently sealed his fate. He had agreed to work with that wretched Dib-creature on the stupid science project, and that was where he went wrong. He should have known it would all blow up in his face. Everything always did.

The Dib.

Just thinking of his arch enemy brought a boiling hatred back to his blood. How could he have been so stupid? Letting a mere child like that infiltrate his base? Of course the human had been planning to betray him from the start. He should have known that was how things would have ended up. Sure, he was aware of the consequences, but he figured he was too good to get caught. Any invader could become exposed by the enemy at any given time, but this was ZIM they were talking about. No one even come close to his level of greatness.

His mind began to cloud with the density of the fog as it became harder to concentrate on his own thoughts.

The humans must have increased the dosage, he thought, fighting the sensations as things became more groggy. He was thankful for the relief, even if it meant he could no longer think clearly. He'd rather not feel anything at all, if possible, and the last thing he wanted was to have to answer any more of the humans' idiotic questions before fading out entirely.

So this is what dying feels like, he wondered, letting a strong calm wash over him. It can't be too bad if it feels like this.

He let his consciousness wonder and his thoughts eventually drifted back to Tak. He wondered if she managed to get the smeet safely to Irk. Or if she would she miss him once she found out about his demise. Would she even care if he was gone. Would it bother her at all?

He supposed that it didn't matter much anyway. He was already written off as dead by the Tallest, and even if Tak did survive the trial, he was probably never going to see her again. She would be shuttled to some far off place, too far out of reach where he could get to her. He would be a fool to think otherwise.

He felt his mind slip away again as the impending blackness started to fill in. For some strange reason he didn't feel sad, but slightly relieved. Perhaps this is for the best, he thought, letting go of everything all at once. Even if I am doomed to a purposeless end, at least Tak and the smeet are safe.

He was almost entirely out of it by the time he heard voices yelling at someone off in the distance. They seemed upset, like they were trying to stop someone from doing something.

Before he could formulate any thought on the matter, a bright light invaded his senses and the mask was abruptly lifted from his face.


Dib darted through the central chamber, pushing through the crowd of blood-stained scientists. He reached the blood soaked autopsy table, taking in the mess of the Irken beneath him.

The image crudely imprinted in his mind.

What had they done to him? he wondered, staring down at the mess in horror. What have I allowed them to do to him?

He turned around to the stampede of scientists running toward him and spread his arms wide, attempting to shield the Irken from any further harm. The men halted and glared at him irritated.

"Move aside kid," one of them commanded.

Dib shook his head "N-no."

"Come on kid. We don't have all day," said another stepping forward.

No.

Dib could feel his pulse pounding widely. He recognized the man as one of his dad's lead scientists, but held his ground.

The doctor grunted and placed his hands on his hips. "You're going to have to move eventually," he said with an irritated tone. "You can't just stand there forever."

"I'll stand here as long as I have to," Dib said anxiously, his whole body shaking.

The scientists looked at one another, unsure what to do. It wasn't until a collection of footsteps approached from behind that they turned around.

"I believe my son asked to let him go," the professor announced imposingly.

The barricade of doctors cleared a path and the Professor and his team of colleges approached the table stiffly.

Dib's eyes filled with hope. "Dad! " he shouted as he took in the sight of his father.

Deadwillow groaned in contempt. "Oh please, not you too professor," he muttered, stepping before the party. "Surely a man like you can appreciate the circumstances of what we are about to achieve here."

The professor didn't budge. Deadwillow threw his hands up.

"I can't believe you out of all people agree with this lunacy!" he shouted in frustration. "You science types always claim to stand for progress, but when real evidence is presented in front of you, you ignore it. This is the first time in history a real, live alien has been in our possession and we have him HERE on CAMERA ready to show the world a whole new field of study. Doesn't that mean anything to you? Just think what we can learn from it!"

"Plenty," replied the professor sternly, narrowing his eyes. "But you will not do so in this manner." He approached the table, stepping forward so that he was next to his son. He looked down with a nod. "Go ahead son."

Not wasting any time, Dib activated the release on Zim's restraints and was about to yank off the tubes and other devices when he remembered the gapping hole in the alien's chest. Right. It won't help if he wakes up and to find his body sliced halfway open.

He grabbed the suturing supplies from the side table and began running the needle through the freshly exposed tissue. His hands shook uncontrollably, like a young intern doing surgery for the first time. As he worked, the adrenaline coursed through his veins, and the shakiness made it difficult to succeed. As he struggled with the punctures, the never ending stream of blood kept pouring out further.

He began to panic.

No. It can't end like this. I'm only minutes away. I know how to save him. I just have to keep trying. I just have to-

He felt the warmth of his father's hand cover his own.

"No son. Like this."

With a calm demeanor, the professor took hold of the suture and carefully and began guiding itthrough the appropriate motions. Dib watched his dad in awe. The famed scientist stitched the wound perfectly, hitting every mark and closing the gaping hole with accurate precision. When it was finished, he glanced down at the boy.

"Excellent job son. I believe you made the right choice."


Author's note: My deepest apologies to those waiting for me to update. I do plan to finish this story. I've just been so busy doing other things that I haven't had time to sit down and proofread my own work. I'm so glad you guys enjoy it so much! I've gotten so many responses asking when it will be updated and it always makes me happy to hear from those who really like it. I promise I will continue to write and wrap things up as soon as possible! I just want to make sure I hit all the right marks and keep things feeling realistic enough, but interesting the whole way through. We're home stretch now folks! Till next time!