Chapter 5
Ludicrous Speed
(This Time I Mean It!)
Zim screamed like a girl as he fell backwards, putting his hands up to cover his face and crotch. The Morlocks gathered around him, reaching down, but they never managed to grab him. There was a sudden flash, and Wells threw a burning flare into their midst. The Morlocks shrieked and backed away, rubbing their eyes.
Zim, too, rubbed his eyes. "Jesus! I can't see!"
Wells lit another flare and pushed it at the Morlock king. "Back, you swine! Weena! To me!"
The king yanked on her chain, holding her back. "You will not have her!"
Wells leapt forward, flashing the flare at his nemesis. "Release her, and I will leave you to your miserable hole in the ground!"
The king hissed, his hand hovering in front of his narrowed eyes.
Zim sat up, surprised that he wasn't as blind as he'd thought. The Morlocks were gone, and Wells was in a stand-off with their king. He wondered why Wells hadn't used the flares when they were trying to find Weena, but whatever. Everyone was distracted, and no one was watching the time machine. It was time to get the fuck out of here. As quietly as he could he tiptoed around Wells, Weena and the king until he was next to the machine. He slipped into the chair and looked around at the controls. It actually looked kind of easy to use. Easier than the phone booth, anyway. All he had to do was find the keyhole for the diamond knob.
He reached into his pocket and pulled it out. There were a few places where it might fit, and he spent the next few seconds figuring it out. Once again it was pretty self-explanatory. As soon as it was in he noticed that all he had to do was pull it down and keep an eye on the date readout.
"Hey! Stop!"
Zim looked up to see Wells rushing toward him with Weena by his side. The king crouched in a corner, covering his face as the flare burned out at his feet.
"You can't leave without us!" Wells shouted.
Zim thought about what Future Zim had said, and he knew that he couldn't stop now. "Sorry, dude. I have to save the world. It's what I do."
Hot shit! Did he really just say that? It sounded like something Clint Eastwood would have said. And he said it so well. It was a shame that no one had recorded it . . .
Wells was almost upon him, so Zim yanked down the knob. The date readout started slowly scrolling backwards.
"NO!" Wells shouted. He leaped forward, his hand reaching for the knob, but it was too late. A bubble formed around the machine, and it severed Wells's arm up to the elbow. The disembodied part dropped into Zim's lap.
"GROSS!"
The rest of Wells dropped, and Zim watched as everything ran backwards. It was actually kind of cool to watch how quickly the earth changed as time flashed back to where he needed to go. The sun and moon flew in arcs over his head, but what he at first found interesting quickly became . . . boring. And what was boring shortly became dizzying. Zim's head spun, and he felt like retching again.
"Jesus! How do you stop this thing? I feel like I'm going ludicrous speed!"
He closed his eyes, and it seemed to make things better. The hum of the machine still screwed with him, but that was at least tolerable.
The 1875 date quickly approached, and Zim pushed the knob back up. However, since he was going so fast, he hurtled past his destination. When the machine finally came to a stop, he was in 1776, and he certainly wasn't in America.
"What the fuck am I doing in Britain?" Zim looked at the Tower of London, which was where the Eloi ziggurat had been in the future. Then he realized that the time machine could not traverse space. Which meant that there was no way he could make it to America.
He threw back his head to the sky. "FFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK!"
"Halt!"
Zim looked around him and noticed that a group of Redcoats had surrounded him. They all aimed flintlock rifles at him, bayonets affixed. "Uh, hey guys." When he stood up, Wells's severed arm fell out of his lap.
"He's an American," one of the Brits said.
"And a murderer," said another. He pointed to the bloody limb.
"You are under arrest," yet another said. "Come peacefully, or we'll be forced to make an example of you."
"I just can't win, can I?" Zim muttered. "Oh yeah, and fuck you, Future Zim, wherever you are. I should have stuck with the phone booth."
