Chapter 3
They didn't have much time to chat.
After Tak reassured Zim that he would be okay, the same guard from before came into the room, along with two other guards and Vinam himself. Zim was ushered out of the room, with Tak following close behind.
They silently traveled through the seemingly-narrow hallway, out toward the door that lead to the courtyard. The guard from before opened the door, moving to the side so Zim, Tak, Vinam and the two other guards could slip through the door easily. As the five walked out into the courtyard, the door slamming shut behind them, Zim noticed something in the middle of the courtyard that defiantly wasn't there before. Something he hadn't seen in years. Something metallic and huge. Something that made his eyes widen at the sight.
He took hesitant steps in the dirt toward the large Irken Mega-Voot. He had a much smaller version before, many years ago, as an Invader for only a short time. Zim's, however, was just a Voot. The one before him was a Mega-Voot, one that transported important political and military figures to the capitol of Irk. It was designed to hold over a hundred people at a time.
Then why was that here?
The Mega-Voot was created to hold important Irkens, like political and military leaders, who were a second-rank in importance, just a step below the Tallest themselves, who held the highest rank. Defectives, of course, were the lowest forms of Irkens, important-wise. In the eyes of the Tallest, every military and other political figure and Elite soldiers and Invaders, defects weren't even considered living beings. They were seen as tools to be used for hard labor or as a punching bag for an angry guard, because the guards in each Prisons were allowed to use physical force. The mass beatings of Irken defects were common, and so were the secret mass rapes of thousands of defected Irken women and young girls. The Tallest couldn't care less.
Well, ever since the Tournament began, that outlook on defects had slightly changed.
The contenders were usually treated as celebrities once they entered the capitol of Irk. They were paraded around, interviewed, and then betted on like prizes. The highest amount of monies usually was placed on the Irken defect the rest of the 'normal' Irken citizens thought would win. The most betted contender were usually from Prisons 1 and 2, for they were the strongest, well-fed and their Prisons didn't treat them as horribly. They were the least defected Irkens, with only a single glitch in their Paks. And they were the most blood-thirsty, doing whatever it took to win their freedom. Because the prize for winning the Defective Tournament wasn't cash or some expense luxury reward, the prize was the winning Defect's freedom. They could live normally in society. This made the desperation to win even more so.
Really the Tournament was made to satisfy the needs of the gamble-hungry Irken citizens who wanted a new game to play at home, a new way to pass time. Or it was made to satisfy the somewhat sadistic Tallest and their need to shed blood. In reality, no defect knew the exact purpose of the Tournament, but one thing they knew for sure, was that their 'rulers' simply wanted to watch them suffer even more than they already have. True sadists they were; absolutely cruel. Most defects came to that conclusion after only a month of being sent to prison.
Prison 15, like the other fifteen prisons, was surrounded by nothing but desert. Just beyond the electric fences surrounding the outside of Prison 15 (to keep any possible escapees from even attempting to escape) were rolling desert hills, some larger than the other. In the far distance where the Irken sun usually set were a set of mountains. As Zim headed toward the Mega-Voot, he noticed, in the distance from where he stood in the courtyard, the other defects already at work, or taking their usual walk through the rocky terrain to get to one of the many hills to start digging and collecting rock and dirt. The job of each and every Irken defect in each of Irk's 16 defect Prisons was to collect as much pure Irk dirt and rock which contained a certain chemical and substance inside that, if mixed and melted together, created pure Irken lysiam, a special metal that was used to build the magnificent buildings and structures found in each of Irk's many prosperous cities, and which was also used to build many of Irk's battle equipment and spaceships, like the Mega-Voot. Irk needed a never-ending supply of lysiam, for Irkens were always hard at work to create more machines for battle everyday, more buildings for living. More weapons, more luxury.
Some of the workers glanced at the Mega-Voot as they walked past the electric fence toward the abundant-amount of rolling hills surrounding Prison 15, while others ignored it and walked on, not wanting to be distracted and pushed along by the guards that lead them forward toward their daily work place. Like Zim, many Irkens hated the physical force by the guards more than anything. Some rebelled by yelling at them, and that mostly lead to those specific Irkens to be beaten brutally and then executed publicly. So hence why most other Irkens, including Zim, tried their best to follow orders and avoid physical force for fear they too might snap and shout at the guards to not touch them. Whatever it took to keep them alive in such a Hell.
A few steps up a small metal stair case lead into a small, narrow hallway in the Mega-Voot. Just before the staircase was lifted up off the ground, Zim turned around briefly, noticing Vinam no longer behind him. He saw Vinam standing twenty feet away from the Mega-Voot. He was smiling for whatever reason that Zim wasn't sure of yet. And it would be awhile before he found out the exact reason for Vinam's gleaming eyes and wicked grin that was, for now, shrouded in mystery.
Zim turned away and moved forward down the narrow hallway, with Tak following close behind. They came up to a single metal door. It beeped and slid open, with Zim's eyes going wide at the sight before him.
"Oh my Irk..." he breathed out, astonished by the sight before him.
The numerous lines of cushioned chairs, two large viewing windows on each side of what was called the 'Viewing Deck' for the groups of important Irkens who usually rode on Mega-Voots to take their seats and get a glimpse from either large window on either side of the Viewing Deck of the breath-taking sights of the pink Irken day sky or of the night where stars could be clearly visible in the distance. To get a gorgeous view of the prosperous, large cities of Irk from above, the Irkens aboard could get up from their seats and stand before either viewing window, and stare down at the sight of the large Irken cities from the skies above. It was much more marvelous of a sight at night, when the cites below were lit up in the darkness by the numerous city lights. In the back of the viewing deck was a table decorated with trays and platters of food; delectable deserts and fattening snacks like chips and donuts. Dinner would be served later in the Dining Hall.
Zim and Tak silently took their sears together in the middle of the empty rows. Four guards came through the hall and guarded both doors; two guarded the one from the staircase to the Viewing Deck in the front, and two others guarded the door in the back that lead to the Dining Hall. The pilot wasted no time to get the ship moving toward it's destination: the Capitol of Irk. The Mega-Voot was immediately airborne in no time.
Some heavy burden was lifted off Zim as the Mega-Voot continued flying through the air, growing further and further away from Prison 15. Maybe it was because, for the first time in nearly ten years, he was out in the open, off of Prison 15's grounds, and was once again back in the air, in the sky, where he knew he always belonged. Despite being nervous of the uncertainty, of what were to happen in the few days ahead, in the weeks ahead, Zim couldn't help but feel free. He felt so relieved to be airborne after so many years of being grounded, of doing hard labor every day for nearly ten years. Though when he glanced up from his seat and locked eyes with one of the two guards that guarded the door in the front of the Viewing Deck, he was reminded that he was still a prisoner, that he wasn't fully free. That the worst was still to come. Zim averted his gaze and stared down at the floor.
He and Tak sat in silence for the longest time. Amidst the uncertainty and fear, Tak found that she was not good at coming up with small talk in such a dire situation. Though Zim was her good friend, she found that no words could really comfort him, especially not now.
After a while, the silence was to much for Tak to bare, and she desperately wanted to cheer Zim up, even if just a little. Reassure him. "You know you're a lot stronger than the rest of them."
"How would you know?" Zim snapped before he could register the words that escaped him. He realized how cruel his tone was, and quickly sighed, "Sorry... I'm just..."
"...Nervous?"
"Very." Zim glanced over at her. "It's been years since I've fought, Tak. I'm not sure if I even remember how to fight..."
"Nonsense!" Tak responded harshly. She couldn't help her own tone now. "I know you trained hard and well in the Academy. From what you've told me, I mean, but still... I believed you when you told me, and I still believe you now." She paused. "You told me about how well you fought with your hands. You were a hand-to-hand combat fighter. But you also said you were great with weapons like knives. They'll have plenty of knives there for you. You have to use them."
"I have to?" He questioned, "Or what? They'll execute me?" His nervous tone turned into a mocking one. "Make me suffer even more than I already have? Beat me? Whip me? Guess what Tak: you know damn well that I've already suffered enough over the years. They can't do anything more to me. They can't kill me, because I'm going to die soon anyway."
"No, you're not!" Tak argued, her voice raising, "What happened to the arrogant, overly zealous Zim I remember? Who, even in captivity was still confident about himself?"
"People change," Zim mumbled, averting his eyes away from her. "Captivity changes people. The Tournament hasn't changed you, though," he couldn't help but add quietly, "You're still the same Tak I met a few years ago... But in your eyes... There's something missing... And if I do win this thing, I wonder what part of me that I'll lose..."
Tak opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came to mind. She didn't know how to respond or argue his point, that she was fine, to reassure him that he would be fine, but knew deep down that he was right. When she won the Tournament, a part of her went missing. For the longest time her eyes with hollow as the memories of the blood shed, the lives she took haunted her. This would be Zim's fate as well if he won, but she'd rather have him alive and well with a few mental traumas than have to watch him being buried into a dirt hole, his body inside a wooden box. She wouldn't admit it and even tried denying it to herself, but deep down, Tak wouldn't be able to handle it. She'd snap and go insane with grief if he died. "I'm going to help you as much as I can," she answered quietly, and before she could stop herself, her hand reached over and touched his arm. He tensed briefly, but then relaxed, knowing it was just her hand. And he enjoyed the feeling of her hand rubbing his arm in a comforting manner. "I want you to win this. I want you to stay alive."
And Zim only smiled a bit in response, though his eyes still stayed locked on the floor under his feet. "That's exactly what I said to you last year before you left," he said quietly. "I'm surprised you remember." Now he did look back at her, into her eyes. But he said nothing.
For the remainder of the day, they sat there in silence.
Night fall came ever so slowly, but Zim was relieved when it did come. They ate dinner alone at a long stretch of table in the Dining Hall, making small talk and reminiscing over the past, but other than that they ate in silence. Despite how tempting and delicious the delectable dinner was, -exquisite soups and fine cooked meats from other planets-, Zim and Tak didn't eat much. Tak, -who was now used to the food and having enough to eat-, and Zim, -who for nearly ten years had only eaten stale bread as his daily meal-, found their squeedly-spooches wouldn't accept the food. The nerves that twisted Zim's squeedly-spooch especially caused the nervous Irken to only eat a few bites of each meal before he found he didn't feel hungry anymore.
When dinner was over, Tak silently lead Zim down another hallway ahead of the Dining Hall, where the bed chambers were. Before residing into her room across from his, she gave him a small, quiet 'goodnight' before retreating fully into her room. Once she disappeared behind the sliding door of her bed chamber, he gave her a quiet 'goodnight' as well before he too retreated to the privacy of his bed chamber.
The door slid closed behind him. The room was twice as big as any of the cells in Prison 15 would ever be. There were plush Irken pink carpets, a few couches in the corner, a large flatscreen on the wall, a large viewing window that, however, was shut with a metal cover, and a large bed with silk blankets and pillows. He was captivated by the sight, and was sure that bed would ease his nerves and help him fall asleep quicker than the cold floor of his cell back at Prison 15 ever did.
This was indeed found to be true when Zim took a seat on the bed, and he felt so comfortable that he fell back on the silk sheets. He hadn't felt this comfortable in years. Beside him on the bed was a remote, which he remembered from his old days as a regular Irken citizen and as an Invader, that not only controlled the TV, but also operated the sliding metal cover over the window of the bed chamber. Curiously he picked the remote up from where he lay, and moved his head over toward the window on the side of the room. He pressed a red button on the top of the remote, and the metal cover immediately began to slide open. Once the cover disappeared, the sight beyond the now viewable window made his eyes widen and his heart flutter with memories. He sat up quickly, and mesmerized by the sight, he got off the bed and took a few steps forward toward the window.
The dark night sky was illuminated by billions of stars in the distance. Zim pressed his hands against the glass, leaning forward to get a better look. His heart suddenly ached more than ever before. The sky, the Universe he loved to explore through, the freedom it offered was just up there, just beyond his reach. For years he was stuck on ground in captivity, and it was like the sky abandoned him.
He realized then, as his eyes slightly welled up, that Irk was never his home. Irk only cared about size and power; Irk had locked him up to die for nearly ten years; Irk was now sending him to his possible demise as a sick form of entertainment. The sky, the Universe, outer space was his home. Home was supposed to offer freedom and comfort, and he never received that on Irk. Back when he was an Invader, when he had his own Voot and would routinely soar through space, nothing offered him more comfort, peace and freedom than the wide open vacuum of space.
Feeling the pain, the homesickness in his heart to much to bare, Zim averted his eyes away from the window. As he walked away from the window toward the bed, he wondered if he'd ever get to experience the comfort and freedom of space ever again.
A/N: EDIT EDIT EDIT: I ACTUALLY NEED DO NEED THREE MORE OCS, AND I'D LIKE ONE OF THEM TO BE SIR UNITS!
AHEM. Anyway... Sorry this was a little late, but I found the will to finish this chapter, so... Yeah. :) Hope you enjoyed it! Sorry, there's nothing else to say really. XD
Please review!