Welcomed to this jumbled chapter!
Thank you, guys, for your continuing support of The Revolutionary Invader!
Dwicky is Charles Lee.
To SaintHeartwing- I really appreciate your review. I'm sorry you're so torn! My honest intent for the ZAGR was to fill the role of Burr and Theodosia with little Theodosia along the way. For the fact that Gaz so happens to be Dib's sister kicks it up another few notches and it becomes a web that she herself is entangled in. I hope it'll get better for you in the upcoming chapters! I think Zim will be kicked down a little soon. He's a little power hungry right now.
This chapter has now taken a turn of events. I was actually really concerned that it would be more tedious to read through than I wanted, but I managed to put a spin on it...I think.
I hope you enjoy!
Chapter Nine- Stay Alive/Ten Duel Commandments
Dib knew the truth. All of his suspicions had been confirmed. He returned to Amelia banged up and bloodied, to which she washed him with a horrified look upon her face. Repeatedly, she asked who had done such a thing to him and why. Dib, at the time, could only answer in a series of groans. He would have to be healed by the morning to return to base with Zim and the others. His mind was a stunning cacophony of thoughts and emotions as the reality hung in the air that Zim would soon become family.
Angelica and Gretchen stood in the doorway as Amelia wrung a warm cloth to wash off the blood. She noticed a few odd things, the red blood which belonged to Dib and what seemed to be discolored blood. There was no explanation to this as Dib eyed the blood, as well.
"I'll call for the doctor," his wife said gently to him. She would request the doctor to perform bloodletting at the sight of the wounds where she found the discolored blood. Gaz lingered with Angelica and Gretchen. Now that the bruises had time to set in, she saw for herself what the cost of her actions had caused. She opened her mouth to speak to Amelia, who merely walked past her.
Amelia had too much on her plate at the moment to stop and speak to Gaz. Her petticoats quickly trailing as her heels clacked against the wooden flooring. "Everyone away from the room," she warned with her back turned to the three women.
"You better listen, ladies," Dib coughed and hissed in agony thereafter.
'What if Dib was right about this Zim being an alien? That blood was not Dib's blood and not of this world…' she thought to herself and clutched the wetted cloth to her, and caused a wet stain on the chest of her gown, which she ignored. 'Knowing my husband, he fought Zim on behalf of Gaz. Knowing my husband…he initiated this to that level. But it seems to be for greater cause.'
"Bishop!" The young woman called for her little brother.
"Amelia, what's wrong?" The young boy asked as he poked his head from his bedroom, his large brown eyes curious with wonder. This caused Amelia to smile at the boy who would soon be fourteen.
"I need you to run down and fetch Doctor Hooper. Let him know he needs to perform a bloodletting."
The young boy gave a look at the thought of the procedure, which consisted of lacerating and draining of the blood, however he did not argue as he nodded his head and dashed from the house and into town to fetch the family's doctor. He had birthed all of Nancy's children to date, fixed all of their ailments, and seemed to be like a miracle worker to the younglings in the family with their cuts, bumps, and bruises. Luckily, no terrible ailments had crossed the family, yet.
Amelia walked between the hallway where she could see the front door, the upstairs hallway where she had seen Dib for the second time in her lifetime and ultimately led to their attachment to one another. She leaned against the railway, praying that none of this foreign fluid would cause any serious infection. Couldn't lose him after finally having him. But, she would care for him, as she had vowed and as was in her heart.
Bishop soon returned with Doctor Hooper as she straightened. She quickly waved for the graying practitioner to join her upstairs. As Doctor Hooper began to perform the bloodletting, Amelia wrote a letter to General Membrane of Dib's injury and to excuse his absence for the following reasons. She would require Doctor Hooper's signature for further evidence and other notations the good doctor decided to leave behind to further support her point. However, she wouldn't send it until she heard further news.
The doctor bandaged his chest to support the ribcage and diagnosed bedrest for the next few weeks. Dib argued that he needed to return to base and the doctor argued that it was going to be impossible.
"Son, let your wife care for you and focus on getting better," the doctor instructed for what felt like the hundredth time. Dib sank back into his pillows and stared up at the ceiling.
"I'll send word to the General," Amelia voiced behind Doctor Hooper, watching the elder man pick up the containers with Dib's blood inside. It all appeared to be his blood, no tracings of the discolored blood intermingled which meant Dib would not be infected. The blood she found was shallow on the skin's surface and had settled near to his wounds. Still, she couldn't take any chances.
"Dear, perhaps you should clean yourself up," the doctor suggested, taking note of the dried blood on her hands and gown. Initially, she began to shake her head before the doctor cleared his throat.
"On second thought," Amelia dared to not protest against the doctor.
"I shall remain here with your husband until you return."
The General wrote back for Dib to maintain his rest if he could not be transported back to camp. Amelia wrote back that transport was out of the question.
"It was Zim, wasn't it, Dib?" Amelia asked for confirmation of her own suspicions, as she returned with a new pair of glasses she had made up, discarding the old and damaged pair into the pocket of her apron.
"You knew, didn't you?" Dib asked as he took his time sitting up, slipping the pair of glasses on. He blinked a few times to adjust before sighing contently, the headaches he had been experiencing from poor vision without them now beginning to go away.
"You two have your differences. I can hardly see it being anyone else. Especially now, where…" Amelia trailed off, taking a seat by Dib's side. She dipped a spoon into a bowl of porridge and fed it to him.
"This also means that your suspicions have been confirmed," She continued. Dib eyed her, placing his hand upon her thigh. Without many words exchanged, she understood the communication perfectly.
"If the pregnancy comes to full term, we shall face this head on, together." She felt him squeeze her thigh before accepting another spoonful, tasting the honey she had infused inside.
"Where is Gaz?" Dib asked after swallowing.
"Taking a walk into town with my mother and Gretchen. Your color is coming back," she said with a smile, knowing what he wanted to hear next. "You'll be back on base in no time, at all."
As much as Dib desired nothing more now than to get back to work and furthermore to keep an eye on Zim, he was enjoying this here with his wife. Despite Zim's threats, Dib had every bit of mind to foil his plans the best he could. With the exchange of eyes, Amelia knew where Dib's mind roamed and she frowned. The war was enough for her to fear, and now to tack on an alien race they knew nothing about. She would say extra in her prayers every night to keep him safe.
"Just stay alive," she whispered. "Please keep him safe."
With her hands clasped at her chest, she prayed when Dib rode back to base when he was recuperated. His chest was still bandaged, but he went back a few weeks later when it was nearly healed. Gaz watched from her window, partially ashamed. She was beginning to trust her brother again, having allowed this unearthly being in, now caught between Earth and Irk. Her child began to move freely and frequently inside of her as it grew within her womb, but felt unwell enough to physically wish her brother luck and a safe return. She caught him glance up at her window to where the angular outlining of her hair she was certain stuck out. It was then she realized he was always going to love her.
She had made her mistakes, uncertain what kind of mother she would make, Gaz hoisted herself from the window's plush ledge to walk from her bedroom and into the garden. While still brisk, the sunlight was making everything warmer and the baby was too active to lay around all day. Sorry wasn't going to fix this episode. And furthermore, despite the attack that had transpired, Gaz had grown attached to the alien's protectiveness of her.
Half of her conscious battled for her to stay away, the other rationalized now that no matter what she chose in the long run, ultimately, Zim was her child's father and perhaps fatherhood would calm him down for the sake of the baby. Her heart pointed out that Zim was there for her when she felt no one else was, but her mind never produced the ideology that Zim was taking advantage of her vulnerability. And she wanted exactly what she had at that time when it was happening.
The only regret Gaz shared now was her eyes opened to her brother's intentions and he was injured in the process. The alien had made them all aware of his strength, his power, and his full intent. She no longer had a plan of action, eventually, she would have to choose a side and hope the other made it alive.
Dib returned to base to hear a round of news that whispered along the camp. Captain Dwicky was made a general, and supported by Zim. Dib stiffened as he dismounted his horse with assistance from Laurent who embraced Dib as much as he was able without the injured feeling pain from it. Laurent had missed him, embracing the other comfortingly.
"I know what you're thinking. His Excellency should have given the title to you."
"He'll never give it to me. I'm far too valuable as his Right-Hand Man," Dib replied with a sigh as the other gloated about his position, going around the camp to introduce himself by his new given title.
"Hey there, I'm Major General Dwicky!" He beamed.
It was enough to nauseate Dib. He trudged along to his quarters and tossed his duffel bag onto his unmade cot and made the bed. Tomorrow they would roam into battle, he also heard. No matter how much Dib pleaded for some men and firearms, he was almost always quickly and roughly denied. It was frustrating to Dib because he was worth more than his quill.
"You don't know how powerful you are because of that quill!" Membrane attempted to make Dib understand how big he was because of that pen. The pen, in this instance, was mightier than the sword.
Although, perhaps Dib was too young to see its worth. "I'm worth more than this." The younger deliberately snapped his favorite quill to make a point. He wondered if that was why he never made it higher than where he was.
"How has Zim been?" Dib asked.
"Gloating how he kicked your ass enough to keep you bedridden for weeks."
"Sounds like Zim," Dib replied flatly, raising his brows followed by dropping them.
"Don't sound so defeated. You were protecting your kin."
"And I got my ass handed to me, Laurent."
"I still think that's brave as hell."
Dib offered him a half smile before adjusting his shirt collar, ready to visit the General's tent to write accounts in their logbook and resume his duty. General Membrane clapped Dib on the shoulder and welcomed him back.
Many of the men were surprised Dib wasn't in charge of the troops in regards to the Battle of Monmouth, which took place several weeks after Dib's return. He was calculative enough to get the mission accomplished without too much bloodshed on their behalf. They would see how Dwicky would fare on the battlefield. General Membrane initiated the orders to attack the British soldiers. Bayonets in hand, cannons at the ready. However, when Dwicky saw the numbers ahead of him, being a General suddenly wasn't that appealing.
"Oh my God." His face completely paled, eye twitching.
"Everyone attack!" Membrane barked. He kept Dib at his close side. While not one hundred percent healed, Dib wanted to see the light of battle again.
"I give guidance, not heads. Everyone retreat!" Dwicky cried to his battalion.
Both Dib and Membrane balked identically. "What are you doing!?"
"Attack!" Membrane shouted again.
"Retreat!" Dwicky countered. Gunfire causing him to jump and the cannon booms caused him, well, to nearly wet himself. The man was not prepared for this. General Membrane was wrong in giving him his title.
"Dwicky! What are you doing!?"
"Do you not see those numbers!?" Dwicky asked in a panic.
"I'm sorry, is this not your speed!?" Membrane towered over him. He shook his head.
He called for Dib who gave him a salute. Membrane was still his commanding officer. "Dib, have Porter Wynn take the lead."
With his head lowered in shame, Dwicky hung behind as Porter took charge. His thick accent dripping the commands, pointing, doing everything a leading officer should have been doing. Dwicky accomplished nothing. Zim shook his head as he slapped his hand over his face, as he had promoted Dwicky to get even with Dib and ruin his chances of ever seeing light as a lead officer. Bodies laid scattered along the field because they ran back and forth like the moving targets they wound up becoming. That was sinful in itself to use men as targets for the opposing team.
Dwicky sat on his cot after simmering down from the day's events. His hands were between his thighs and his head hung low. He was a failure, his cowardice got the better of him. He wanted to prove himself, but, Dwicky would always be better at giving personal guidance as opposed to battle guidance.
"So, the General really chewed you out, huh?" Zim asked, leaning against the tent post.
"You recommended me, Zim, and I failed. Men died out there because of me."
Zim shrugged nonchalantly and looked down at his gloved hands. "It wasn't your fault. I mean, General Membrane should have been more present knowing how inexperienced you were. I was honest in saying that you have potential."
"He really should go back to conducting imaginary science in Mt. Skyrim." Dwicky said this out of emotion. Any embarrassed man would. Well, the irrational ones, anyway. "He's no General at all."
Zim raised a brow and glanced upward to the other officers.
"Dwicky. Hush yourself. That's His Excellency," another officer shushed.
"His Excellency?" Dwicky picked his head up, hands moving from between his thighs to look up at his comrades, those who would lend an ear to a man whose ego was damaged. "His Excellency is…"
Dib, Porter, Blake, and Laurent watched Dwicky from the other side of the tent and shook their heads. He was making a fool of himself, but he would also undo himself. There would be no one to protect him.
"He really shouldn't speak of the General that way," Laurent said.
"Someone should shut him up," Dib commented in agreement.
"He'd been doing this even before you came here, though. I don't know why General Membrane promoted him," Blake added.
"Because Zim didn't want to even give me a chance to prove myself. I know exactly where this stems from. Did anyone bring this to General Membrane's attention?"
Laurent nodded. "He said to ignore it. Children will be children."
"This child needs to learn a lesson," Dib said. He was angry at this. Perhaps not so much that it was a direct attack against General Membrane, despite all that the man did for him. Dib was still uneven in his thoughts about that. No, it was the fact that this man was able to run his mouth freely. Zim was attacking within and Dib needed to show Zim that he wasn't getting away with this.
"But, we shouldn't disobey direct orders, should we?"
"Risks are meant to be taken when they're for good causes," Laurent commented. "Shall we put them up to a duel?"
Dib stared at his friend, admiring him and his bravery. "I'll be your second." He couldn't allow his first and truest friend to do this by himself.
Duels were more than aiming and firing to determine dominance. They had rules. Rule number one stated attempting to gain Dwicky to take back the slanderous things he said about General Membrane. If Dwicky were to apologize, the duel would be called off.
Dwicky spat at the thought. The duel resumed.
The second rule, if the duel were to continue, the duelist would grab a second. For Laurent, that was Dib who had earlier agreed. For Dwicky, it was Zim.
They all looked at one another, Dwicky appearing nervous but still persistent on continuing. The man had no nerve, but he would not go down without a fight. The third rule consisted of the seconds meeting face to face, Zim smirked at Dib, who earned a glare in return from the other. There was no negotiating, but the fourth rule contained an attempt to negotiate peace, another attempt to kill off the duel.
Zim would fuel it, and he would get off on Dib looking to back down. Laurent insisted on seeing it through for the sake of not wanting to give either man satisfaction. Backing down was not an option at this point.
"Then we negotiate a location, Zim," Dib said.
"Outskirts of the camp. Dawn," Zim immediately replied, having thought it through. "By the cliff."
"The cliff?" Dib frowned, already seeing where Zim was going with this.
"Do you protest?" Dib gave the alien a hard look before shaking his head.
"No."
It was only a few hours until dawn. There was no time to sleep, all of their adrenaline pumping with the lingering excitement of the duel. The pistols were distributed, Zim being fair and didn't subject to using an Irken weapon due to the fact that he was so sure he would win without it.
Both Laurent and Dwicky wrote notes to their loved ones in the event they should not return from it. Close to dawn, the four of them marched towards the cliff, each man standing in the center of the cliff. After the paces were counted, whoever was shot would fall from the edge and there would be no chance of coming back from the duel. Laurent glanced at Dib before holding his head up high. Although Dib had second thoughts.
"Let's do this. Count the paces," Laurent ordered.
"Zim, can we negotiate this?" Dib attempted one last time to reason with the other, which was another one of the rules.
"Do you surrender, Dib-Beast?" Zim leaned in as Dwicky was hopeful that Dib would.
"I'm not surrendering. Dwicky is inexperienced and unfit for the position," Dib prepared an honest evaluation. "He is ruinous and a hazard unto himself and others."
"We do not surrender!" Laurent chimed in. Dib rolled his eyes, wishing the other had an off switch.
"Looks like we're doing this, Dib. For Dwicky doesn't bow down, either," Zim said, Dib catching the hint of malice in his throat. Dib was certain Zim wanted to see some kind of bloodshed.
"One, two, three…"
They began in the center, stepping backward. Zim and Dib marked the areas with their boots. Dwicky and Laurent stopping once they hit the boot markers. Laurent smiled at Dib and winked, wanting these last moments, if they were to be so, to be ones in which Dib smiled fondly upon.
The pistols were aimed towards the sky. This was it. The moment of truth. Face the opponent, count out loud to ten. The sun began to rise in the sky as Laurent smiled. These moments were worth it to him. He had no regrets in life.
"Fire!"
The gunshots rang into the morning as the sunlight kissed the cliff. One bullet missed, and the other hit its opponent. Dib prayed, for what felt like the first time in his life; he prayed that Laurent would emerge from this as the winner. He couldn't bear to lose his friend; he didn't want to lose his best friend. And yet his friend came out victorious. Dib's eyes widened pleasantly as he reached out and embraced the others as Laurent's eyes softened. He was still alive.
"We won!" Dib crowed, although he winced at the sight of Dwicky down. The man was only shot in the arm. But, he was grateful that's all it was.
"You've won nothing," came the thunderous voice of none other than the General.
As the duel went on and the General was out of range, another pair of leaders received a call from a communicative device on the wrist of an invader. The face could not be seen, but the voice came in loud and clear. Alerting beeps came in after the initial transmission, making sure someone responded.
"Sirs, this is worse than I could have imagined," the voice said, though controlled, still managed to sound somewhat fearful."
Tallest Red yawned as the voice pleaded for one of them to respond when no one immediately did. It was quiet on The Massive. Red glanced down at Purple, who still slumbered on the big chair in the main control room. He smacked his hand down upon the button to answer the call. The Irken insignia flashed upon the screen and the soundwaves of the voice played out.
"What is it, soldier?" Red yawned.
"Sir, thank Irk, it's Zim. Even without Irken engineering, he's still out of control. The numbers aren't in among the heads of the humans. But, I counted fourteen of our soldiers dead on the field. And that's not even the final total."
Red quieted. "How did fourteen invaders manage to fight on the human battlefield?"
"Zim gave the orders, sir."
"On who's authority?" Red's voice darkened.
"Based on your previous conversations, milords, yours."
Red quieted, looking up at the skylight on the ship, he could see the stars and planets as they passed. It was a mistake to give Zim a chance. He practically destroyed them all in Operation Impending Doom 1. Zim wasn't even supposed to be part of this one. Somehow, he managed to insert himself into the equation. He inserted himself into a seat of power he didn't belong in. And because the Tallest hadn't taken care of it themselves in the beginning, they were paying for it. Tallest Red had to make a decision. It was one thing to kill the humans. It was another altogether to kill his own in the field.
"Zim promoted a weak human, unfit for the title. His poor judgment killed our men."
How many more would Zim kill before he was satisfied? Was he even aware he killed his own kin?
"I'm calling it, soldier. Abort the mission, we'll send out the word to the others, and come on home. It's about time I had a talk with Zim." The truth was out there, as the humans proclaimed. Now it was Zim's turn to hear his.