"Stupid robot!"
Zim scratched angrily at his slave's shell, searching for the key for the hatch that would allow him access to GIR's machine-guts. Clumsily he rolled the SIR unit over: GIR's head made an empty clang noise against the metal floor. His eyes were unknowing and dark, mouth hanging open. Zim's claws found the catch on his chest and the SIR unit's body opened up, unfolded into a chaos of tangled wires and circuits and random junk. A dreadful smell struck the Irken in the face and he recoiled, face wrinkling. Then he gritted his teeth and bore it, sifting through the tangled mess GIR's hull contained carefully. After a moment he came to the source of the smell: some small rotted parcel of food that had somehow been squirreled away in GIR's belly, sealed and left to go odious for months. No wonder it stank. It was a marvel that the robot had even functioned as long as he had. There really should have been checks to keep the robot from getting into his own vital organs, but GIR was good at getting past those kinds of things...
Grimacing with disgust the alien lifted the near-liquid lump from the tangles of wires around it and flung it to the side, shaking his hand fastidiously. Then he plunged his hands into the slithering wires once more, feeling around for the wire that he had yanked loose six months ago.
Finally under his fumbling claws some vital connection was made. The SIR unit's limbs twitched spasmodically and his eyes flickered to bright crimson. The hatch on his chest snapped shut and Zim yanked his hand free, cursing vividly in Irken. Meanwhile his slave stood up sharply, rapped off a picture-perfect salute. "GIR, reporting for duty!" Zim could hear things rattling around in his head, normally used as a thermos by elite soldiers with a thirst to quench.
He didn't stay in duty mode for long, of course. The eyes flickered, blurring from red to blue, red to blue. His mouth dropped open, and then curved into an empty-headed grin. The posture drooped from military discipline to a rocking slouch. "Hiiii, master," GIR whispered, conspiratorial. "How's it hangin'?"
What? Zim blinked for a moment, nonplussed. He would never understand GIR's fondness for earth slang.
Already the SIR was distracted, rocking back and forth on his nubby metal feet, sticking his hand into his mouth and sucking it. Zim drooped a little, looking at him, sighed. "GIR! I need you to focus. We've almost reached our interception point with the Massive. But there's still MUCH to do!" He tossed a frantic look around the walls, already bursting to be ready. The next hours would be a rush of frantic preparation and anticipation. He was meeting with his leaders in person for the first time in seven years... "I've reactivated you so you can help me ready the ship for docking and inspection. Can you handle this, GIR?"
"Is big head boy around?" GIR squealed, giving no evidence that he had even heard a word Zim said. His metallic tongue poked cheerily out of the corner of his mouth. "I wanna say hi!"
Zim gritted his teeth, suddenly remembering why he had deactivated his slave in the first place. GIR, scrabbling at the human's container, waving and calling futilely... "Hey! Hey! Hi big head boy! HIII! Whatcha doing? Come out and play death piggies with me!" And GIR coming to chatter at his master: "What's Dib doin'? Why won't he wake up? He's bein' boring! I wanna play with him!" Days and days without end, without reprieve, GIR babbling cheerily, forlornly, tantruming, cajoling, until Zim finally snapped and shut him down for the long trip back to Irken territory. Left to chafe at the bounds of his own buzzing mind, eaten up with silence and the growing current of his own self-doubt. He hated silence, being alone, more than he hating anything else. More than he hated Dib even.
"NO, GIR. You may NOT say hello to the Dib-worm." Inhale, exhale. Remain calm. Ignore those puppy eyes... he's a robot, how can he do them anyway...? "You may not SPEAK to the Dib. The Dib is inferior." Good so far...
GIR's eyes widened, somehow. His lower lip quivered pathetically. "But... but I LIKE him! Can't we just have biscuits? BISCUITS?!" He leaned forward a little to whisper in Zim's antennae. "I'm gonna invite him and cow to a tea party! All special-like!" He leaned back and grinned at Zim, tongue poking out and eyes squished into happy crescents. The Invader gritted his teeth. ...Oh Tallest, why me?
..Okay, changing plans... Zim unclenched his fists with an effort. Wasting time, wasting time, can't AFFORD it right now... He modulated his voice into smoothness. "You know what, GIR?" he ground out, doing his best to sound coaxing. "I think that I'll give you a special job instead. One far more IMPORTANT than dealing with the Dib."
Instantly the robot perked up. The tears bubbling ominously below his cyan eyes dried up in seconds and were replaced with a look of adoration.
"What do I getta do, master?!"
This, now, this freely-given devotion, this was why Zim had truly kept the SIR unit active on earth. GIR, idiot that he was, was somehow also the only creature cognizant of Zim's genius. There was hope for him yet.
"For you, GIR, there is the second-most important job of all!" Zim told his slave. "The first-most special job goes, of course, to Zim. Now! Your job is to... uh..."
Now came the part where he actually thought of something for GIR to do.
"You can... polish... the floors! Yes! It's very important, GIR, that our floors be as clean as the ingenious tupperware of Plasticia! The Tallest will marvel at the cleanliness of the floors of ZIIIIM!"
GIR pranced eagerly, caught up in Zim's wild posturing. "I'll clean! I'll clean them floors so goooood! Cleaner than SPAAAACE MEEEEEEAT!"
The SIR dashed to the farthest corner of the room, fell to all fours, and began licking.
Zim cocked an eye at his slave. Internally he shrugged. If it would keep GIR out of trouble, he sure wouldn't complain...
Slowly, so the robot wouldn't notice and start an uproar, he backed away, edged through the open door, and gestured it shut behind him. That would keep GIR occupied for a while at least, while Zim attended to more important things.
Zim folded his claws behind his back and marched to the elevator. The platform shifted smoothly upwards; Zim stared idly at the wall, blanking his mind. His antennae quivered with tension. He wondered if Dib was in the mood for talking.
The elevator stopped at the medical bay, where Dib was interred for lack of any better place to keep him. Zim hesitated again before the door, gritting his teeth, eaten by a sudden burst of nervousness. What was the meaning of this?! The Dib was contained within a tube, naked, weaponless, utterly at Zim's mercy. There was no reason to be... afraid... of him...
Zim shifted from foot to foot to foot, bit his lip, and gestured the door open.
It was so much the same yet still all different. Dib was awake this time, already hostile, and when he saw Zim his eyes narrowed. The human reached out, put his pale hands again the clear polymer. He didn't even try to talk but his eyes followed the alien, traced his progress across the floor to the computer bank that controlled the environment of his tube.
Zim turned to look at him and narrowed his own large eyes in return. Remember your PLACE, stinky Dib...STINK. Remember your place at the mercy of ZIM.
Fluid drained again. Dib's head broke the surface quickly and he leaned forward, coughing up gunk. Drops of fluid dripped from his chin and nose. But he was ready, this time, when the tube rose into the ceiling and let him out.
There he stood, the human boy, unreasonably fearless. Light glanced off his nervously twitching muscles. Maybe he wasn't as confident as he seemed...? Probably not. He wasn't stupid. He knew he was vulnerable. Zim knew it too. Here, this close, they could read each other, feed off of each other, without things hidden between them. Dib knowing Zim was a price Zim had paid for the power of knowing Dib. No boundaries between them. As enemies they knew each other like brothers. Zim ground his teeth and denied it.
We are not equals we are not.
Remember that, Zim. Remember it.
"All right, Dib!" He said savagely. "We're almost there, only a couple hours yet! I'll make you fit for presentation to the Tallest."
"Giving me up 'cause you can't beat me yourself, huh?" Dib sneered in return. "That's so typical."
Already he was itching to hit the human. Not that it ever took much.
"SILENCE, mewling smeet-human! NONE of your WORDS for the Tallest, unless you want to eating LAZER as a snack right away!" He marched forward, unfolding his paklegs and lifting on to them as he moved. Dib held his ground even though he had to look up at Zim just slightly now.
"Yeah, well, nothing I do will make any difference in the end ANYWAY, huh?"
Zim didn't answer. Instead he opted for grabbing the Dib by his ear- such convenient handles they made- and towing him over to the elevator. He shoved the human in fiercely so he stumbled against the wall, not quite coordinated yet, and hopped in after him. "Stay there!" he barked when Dib began to stand strait again. "And I want your hands where I can see them, human."
Dib sneered at him, raised his hands so that they were behind his head. Kept them there as the elevator descended. When the door slid open on the lowest level he cocked his head, shifted his expression to a bland, supercilious smile and didn't move. Zim made his own face into stone. "All right, march."
Dib strolled down the hall, his rival behind him. Zim itched to force a pakleg through the boy's thick skull and end it right there. It had been so much easier to pity the Dib while he was sleeping. Then he shook himself. This was... better. Invaders could not pity the species they subjugated.
But he had forgotten, the myriad ways Dib knew to get under his skin. How he knew Zim's buttons. He kept up his silence when Zim ordered him into the equipping room at the end of the passage, only looking at the alien silently when he was forced into the machine that would clothe him. Zim watched the shells slam closed with gusto, hoping the Dib would scream.
The human disappointed him. The shells split and Dib only stumbled slightly coming out, regaining his feet in moments, aided by the textured grips on the soles of the suit. Zim shut the machine down with the flick of a switch and bounded to grab the human by his hair this time. The spike was no longer there, shorn from Dib's scalp by the military buzz-cut that had been forced upon him, but there was still enough coarse black hair to get a good grip on.
"All right," Zim whispered to the human. "Listen to me, listen, listen to ZIM.
This is what you are going to do. When we meet the Tallest, you will be silent. NO TALKING. ZIM will talk. ZIM will hand you over to the scientists. You will NOT talk. You will go with them. You will follow their orders."
"Do not make Zim look stupid, huh?" Dib whispered back. "Well, tell me this, Zim: how can you stop me? I'll do what I want. There's nothing more you can do to me. I'll say what I want to them."
"You will NOT." Zim shook him. "If you don't promise this Zim will... will burn out your vocal cords! You will NOT... make Zim look BAD... for the Tallest."
Dib's face had gone smooth and grey. He looked back at his rival, eyes slitted. Maybe the threat had finally gotten to him?
"Fine," he conceded. "Fine."
The human had conceded. Zim breathed again.
They went back up on the elevator again, together. Zim watched the human closely, even after forcing him to hold his hands up again. He still didn't trust the human. Didn't trust him giving in. He shouldn't have given his reason to him. That was a mistake? Why did he do that?
But the human had agreed. Finally, he had given way, even just to one small thing. But Dib was wily. He had lied before. He couldn't trust that. Couldn't trust his agreement and, now that he thought of it, couldn't damage him to insure his silence either. The scientists would need a perfect specimen.
Zim had never been so grateful for the elevator doors opening. In so close, he could smell the Dib extra-acutely, almost taste the human scent on the air. Could feel his body's heat. Could feel the air currents he made turning his head and breathing. Irkens did not tend to claustrophobia but Zim was beginning to suffer from it slightly.
They moved out in tandem, Dib without orders this time. He was so thin, worn down to his essence by months of living on only the barest nutrients. Muscle stood out like cords and his wrists might have been just a layer of skin over bone. It made him, with the suit, appear almost Irken. The resemblance was discomforting. Zim pressed his antennae back against his head, regretting it.
"All right," He told the human. "I want you where I can see you. So you're coming up to the command bay with me."
"You know," Dib broke his silence, "it's pretty pathetic that even when I'm totally defenseless you're STILL scared I'll beat you. What kind of loser defenses do you have, Zim?"
"SILENCE, human PIG-stink! The intricacies of Irken defense shall be known only to the Armada..."
He prodded the boy with a pakleg to get him moving in the right direction. Dib shifted to walk more towards to elevator and then stopped very suddenly. Zim almost walked into his back. "What IS it?" he snapped, and then stopped at a shrill giggle bursting from the elevator.
GIR! Oh, not now...
Indeed it was GIR, regarding the two of them cheerily with a look of general approval. "Hi, master!" he greeted Zim, and then he turned his attention to Dib. "Hiiii, big head boy..."
Zim reached out, dug his claws into the back of Dib's neck, and propelled him forward. "Carry on with the floor-cleaning, GIR!" he ordered. "You're doing a fine job so far! Yes! I'm just taking the Dib up to deal with him! Carry on!"
GIR ignored him completely, latching on to the human boy's leg. "I wanna have a tea party with yooou, Dib!"
"Nice, Zim," Dib snickered. "You still can't get this stupid thing to work right, huh?"
"Quiet!" Zim felt a headache starting. "GIR is superior Irken technology! So superior you can hardly comprehend it!"
"Oh, yeah right," Dib snorted. "I guess you can just keep telling yourself that. Not like it'll make any difference anyway."
"Where you goin' with the Diiiiib, master?" GIR sing-songed. "Can he have tea with me an pig first?"
"No. No tea with the Dib, GIR. Remember? What I told you?" Zim snapped. "Can't you just obey me? I said OBEY!" He added as the robot began to sniffle. "The Dib is INFERIOR! He is not for you to be concerned with! I will take care of this!"
GIR dropped off Dib's leg totally, skittering backwards to stare up at his master. Whatever he saw in Zim's face did not reassure him and the robot's eyes began to fill with tears. He put up one tiny hand to wipe them away and said in a small voice, "Master... are you mad at your friend...? Please don't be mad... I didn't mean to leave you out... you could have tea with us too..."
"I said NO, GIR!" Zim roared, at the end of his patience. He shook Dib around by the neck again in frustration. "Now stay down here and just do what I TOLD you!"
He shoved the unresisting human onto the elevator and ordered the doors shut with a snarl. Once closed in with Dib- for the last time on this miserable trip, he promised himself- he could feel the atmosphere getting heavy. It was weighing him down, Dib's silent contempt, the aftermath of driving GIR to tears. He didn't like to do that. He tried to avoid it. He wished Dib hadn't seen it...
"Wow, Zim," Dib broke the silence. His voice was very quiet. "You really don't know what you're doing, do you?"
END OF CHAPTER 8
Chapter completed November 14, 2004.