Chapter 15, how exciting! Am I right?

Zim'sMostLoyalServant: I thought about Spork, but didn't want it too much with two great leadership figures as Zim's father. I thought Miyuki was enough.

Invader Johnny: I know, right? What an unpleasant build up of raw emotion that may come back to bite a hated enemy for Zim. Am I doing well with Zim as a father?

Please give me your thoughts and perhaps any questions. I love your reviews, guys! Thank you!

Chapter 15- What'd I Miss?/Cabinet Battle #1

1789

Gaz was buried near the church Amelia took the children to on Sundays. Dib knew that Gaz wouldn't want to be buried in a church's cemetery, and even considered Zim's phobia's of human superstitions. There was a plot of land nearby, to which Dib paid to have dedicated to his sister. He had always thought they would be buried beside one another, but he would respect her wishes. Besides, when his time came, they would never be too far apart.

From an aerial view, black plumes gathered around the plot as the casket was lowered. Zim's hands rested upon his daughter's shoulders as the little girl attempted to compose herself. Zim picked her up and held her when her sniffles worsened and her small frame began to tremble. Dib allowed his tears to flow freely, feeling another part of him departing the Earth. Weight was applied on his shoulder to see the elder Membrane squeeze his son's shoulder, his face stoic. He was trying to hold back his tears.

Membrane and Gaz were never close. Dib was open to slowly accepting their father back, whereas Gaz kept her distance. The past was the past for a reason, she reasoned. Still, the elder Membrane and his wife mourned the loss of the young woman.

Dib leaned against his wife for support, although was unable to tear his eyes from his niece. He wondered what was shifting and shaping within Zim's mind, who appeared stone-faced and oddly placid. Was he keeping a strong front for Zinovia? If they were anything of friends, Dib would offer consolation. Instead, he stuck with his wife. Gretchen watched the children, and the absence of Skoodge meant he was with her and the Ryder family.

His mind swam callously. First Zim with Gaz, then Skoodge with Gretchen. Did no one see the danger that rode from this? Perhaps the aliens were choosing their favorites to savor, no better than considerable pets. Glimpsing back at the plot as the rope lowered into the dirt, he let the thought go. Right now was not the time for such. Instead, another thought entered his mind that only his wife could answer.

"Have you been able to see her?" Dib asked Amelia, who squeezed her husband's hand before kissing it.

"My love, give her time."

"We all mourn the end of a loved one's life. However, their suffering has ended, their spirit flies freely and their world has righted itself. Gazlene left behind a daughter, a part of her to continue roaming this world, allowing her name to live on. Remember her not as she died, but how she lived," the preacher gave his eulogy.

Zim swallowed a hard lump in his throat, turning away with Zinovia when there was nothing left to see. Zinovia didn't need to see this plot of land, he would bring her back when it was filled with flowers. He considered leaving her with Amelia and her children, however, felt he needed Zinovia more at the moment and the little girl refused to leave her father after that point forward. They were all they had. Madge walked beside Zim and held the umbrella over his head.

"Isn't it interesting, how humans end so quickly? It would take a lot more than that for an Irken to crumble," Madge said. Zim, once more, felt his eye and antennae twitch with displeasure at his companion's open thoughts.

"I don't think right now is the time to look at the humans like a science experiment," Zim said, bouncing his daughter to adjust her. The little girl stared at Madge with her large hazel lenses.

"That was my mother." Was all the little girl said.

Several weeks passed, a knock came at the Membrane door. The elder Membrane and his wife were at Dib's doorstep with the thirtieth fruit and meat basket. First, it became an excuse to provide the family with condolence baskets, and then just an excuse to come over and see the children. Martha entered as the children squealed their greetings to their grandmother. Her old heart gushed with joy.

Amelia gave her father-in-law a hug, a gesture she conducted to express her respect and sympathies.

"Is all well?" Amelia inquired.

"I'm afraid I must speak to Dib. I've received word of another impending issue I need his assistance with. I've stalled a response long enough to give all of us time to grieve." Membrane looked away. "I'm running out of time and need to put together my best."

Amelia stilled. That would mean Dib leaving the family. Obviously, she couldn't stop him. He was getting along with his father and they would need one another during this crucial time. If Dib had to leave, at least he wouldn't be alone if he awoke to another nightmare.

"I know it's a lot to ask, Amelia. Trust me, I was settled in my science and Martha was content with me being home….just as it seems Dib was content with his family."

She nodded and poured two cups of tea. "I'll go get him," she said in barely above a whisper and left the room faster than she should have. Membrane looked down at that, truly feeling pained at having to tear the family apart.

When Dib entered the room, there was initial silence. Membrane looked intently at the fireplace before turning to face his son. His stern frown said it all and Dib's eyes settled.

"They're asking me to lead," Membrane explained to Dib, Amelia leaned against the door to listen. "I need you at my side to be my right-hand-man."

"Lead? As General again?" He asked. "Is there another war?"

"No. The people seek a leader to run this newly found country."

"Do you really think it's a wise idea?" Dib inquired, placing his hands behind his back.

"Is studying a science such as the paranormal a wise idea? Is it lucrative enough to support your family?"

Dib's face was blank as he felt his passion, once more, poked at.

"I know it's a lot to ask. I was just telling Amelia that I hate asking you to leave all of this behind, but no one works the way you do. And I mean that with all sincerity."

Dib didn't react, his facial expression stoic as he gave the matter some thought. Getting away and working would take his mind off the constant reminder that his sister was no longer present. He would push the grievance away for a time.

"What department do you need me for? Treasury? State?"

"Treasury. I hear you're working on a new project pertaining to treasury?"

"I can track expenses. I've been working on a lot of new things. Now, which can wait. Let's go."

Amelia's heart dropped to hear her husband so willing to leave. She squeezed her eyes and stepped away from the door, ascending the stairs to see Martha and the children. Amelia would cope, as she had every other time he left.

"When will it be enough?" She whispered.

"Amelia!" Gretchen called from her doorway. Amelia smiled and embraced her sister as she entered the foyer of her home. "I can't stay for long. I've got to talk to you and Dib about something important."

"You're leaving," Amelia whispered. "With Skoodge?"

Gretchen was surprised that her sister guessed it, although she smiled. Her face radiated something she hadn't felt since she first met Dib. The two held little contact with one another, but when she closed her eyes at night, his eyes reflected back into hers and she crumbled all over again. She kept her distance for that reason, there for her sister and the children when they needed it and when they called for her, but she never went deliberately out of her way. Gretchen couldn't bring herself to break her sister's heart. Dib married Amelia and that was that.

"He asked me to leave with him while times were still good to do so," Gretchen confirmed with a curt nod. "He's a good man, and genuinely seems interested, and to care about me."

Amelia bit her lip. She needed to warn her sister what she was getting into. "Where? Gretchen, he is one of Zim's friends, and-"

"London." Gretchen stopped Amelia before she had a chance to criticize or attack Skoodge, perhaps retribution for the hard time she gave her about Dib when he first courted her. This was her chance to find happiness, finally. She couldn't allow her sister to spoil anything for her, and wouldn't.

"London!? Gretchen, that's too far," Amelia protested.

Gretchen took her sister's hands into her own. "It'll be fine. We'll write often, and you'll come visit, right?"

She was really putting herself out like this. Amelia was happy that Gretchen finally decided to settle down with someone compatible for her. Perhaps because he was a friend of Zim's…meant he was of a different caliber than the other. Then again, Zim was attempting to separate his feelings and figure himself out. So perhaps when all of this passed, Zim would be less volatile. Gretchen wasn't open to reasoning, Amelia wouldn't press, couldn't press. Gretchen was set, and all Amelia could do for her was smile and lock her sister tight to her chest.

"Of course. Be well, sister." Gretchen kissed her cheek just as the parlor doors opened to see Dib and Membrane step out. The elder, taller Membrane was intimidating in stature, to which Gretchen swallowed and took a step back, offering a curtsey in her traveling coat.

Dib took wind of Gretchen's departure, "You're leaving?"

"Don't talk like it's forever. I'll be back." She offered a smile, doing all but promising this. "I came to say goodbye to you, Amelia, and the family."

Amelia realized then that it may have taken her some time, but Gretchen was finally finding her voice. She knew it was a matter of when and not if.

"Well, best wishes to you, young lady," Membrane said as he tipped his hat to her, glimpsed back at Dib before nodding to him, kissed the back of Amelia's hand and left with Martha in tow, who left the sleeping children lying on blankets on their playroom floor.

"Can we talk in the garden?" Dib asked.

Gretchen nodded in compliance and walked through and towards the back of the house, into the garden where wildflowers bloomed. Bees captured their pollen and hummingbirds suckled their nectar. She had never given their yard much thought, coming out here with Amelia once or twice when Diana was born.

"I didn't think you'd be leaving."

"It was bound to happen sometime," Gretchen shrugged nonchalantly. "I've met a good man who will care for me."

Dib stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I have so much to thank you for. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have this now."

The words slowly cut into Gretchen as she turned away to study a pink budding rose. She felt the jagged edge of its leaf against her finger. "So long as you're satisfied."

Dib chuckled at that, "Nowadays? I'm never satisfied, still. You would think I'd be able to tell my wife that, right?" He looked at her. "I'm too afraid to. She'll get upset."

She blinked in surprise at hearing those words. "So, then, what kind of marriage do you have?"

The words now cut into Dib. Surely, he loved Amelia and she birthed him two beautiful children, thus far. He suspected she was pregnant with their third child, another mouth to feed that this position would assist in. Things just weren't the same. He chose to neglect Gretchen's question.

Dib cleared his throat. "When do you leave?"

"Tonight. We're taking the late ship out."

"Write when you get there?" He rubbed the back of his neck.

Gretchen nodded before bucking up the courage to kiss him on the cheek, departing from the home after telling her sister goodbye one final time, asking her to tell the children when they woke, as well. She didn't want them woken up on her behalf. Amelia promised to comply and waved her sister off as she strode down the street.

Dib was not surprised to find Zim and Madge present for their initial meeting as the President's cabinet. While Zim took on this position, he reluctantly left Zinovia in Amelia's care, once more. He found the woman useful; she cared well for his daughter. Her warm personality left Zim uncomfortable, though, her smile was disarming. She was no Gaz, but she would do as another womanly figure in Zinovia's life.

The room itself was intimidatingly white, save the light wooden table and chairs. He could smell the fresh coat of varnish on them. This table and chair set had been specifically commissioned for the President and his cabinet. Surely, he was proud when his father was sworn in and asked to lead the country. His stepmother had told him that leadership ran in the family. He found it odd considering her as such, sometimes mentally he stated the facts of her position to him, but never out loud. It was enough to process that Membrane, the President, was his birth father.

Dib, Zim, Porter, Blake, a sprinkle of other men that he had met that day: Connor White, Bruce Avery, and Rudolph "Rudy" Walker. Zim's friend was also in presence, and a handful of other men that Dib, for the life of him, couldn't remember the names of, despite the fact it was in his political interest to know them.

"Poonchy Jefferson will be joining us next week for our official first cabinet meeting," Membrane explained at the podium. The oval table seated the few men he had gathered so far.

"I do have a question that can be potentially answered in this room." The heads turned towards the owner of the voice, which was Zim.

"Was the army we had composed together years ago this nation's greatest defense? Do you think these are similar elsewhere?"

"What are you driving at, Zim?" Dib inquired. "Are you looking to start an uprising? Why else would you ask those questions?"

"I must admit, those are some pretty skeptical questions, young man," Membrane commented as he folded his hands together, elbows on the podium.

"Nonsense, I meant in terms of…strengthening these defenses. Certainly, they're enough to overthrow those who opposed the independence of this nation; it was strictly a matter of curiosity." Zim glared at Dib.

"You have always been against me, Zim," Dib countered that. "Perhaps you're against America, as well?"

"I fought in the war, as well, Dib-sludge." Nods of agreement paraded the table. Zim smirked victoriously. "Although—what is this I understand about you wanting to establish…a place to store monies?"

"It's a financial distribution center. It's actually proving to be better than you think." Voices hummed around the room.

"Sounds to me like you're trying to pocket other people's monies." Silence followed Zim's statement.

Zim had managed to redirect the conversation and whip it against Dib. He felt his skin tingle with anger, shaking his head as he slumped back in his seat.

"I'm afraid I must agree with our olive skinned friend," said another voice in the doorway. "My friend, Nick Madison, informed me of what the son of our leader has been up to." He gestured to the grinning male beside him.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Dib groaned. "What's wrong with him?"

"His face froze that way." Poonchy shrugged.

"Ah, Poonchy Jefferson. I'm glad you could make it. I thought we weren't expecting you until tomorrow?"

"I took an early ship," Poonchy replied and took a seat beside Membrane opposite of Dib's seat, glancing at the other cabinet members. Madge quirked a brow at this and leaned forward at the table.

"Gentlemen. Whether we'd like to realize it or not, the world is in debt."

"The world is in danger, too," Dib said beneath his breath, earning him a look from his father.

"Dib here has composed a solution. I understand we have some opposition against his plan?"

"They're only opposing because they just don't like me."

"Alright, settle down," Membrane sighed and rubbed his temples. "Alright. I thought this debate was going to wait until tomorrow, but you men appear ready for it now."

"We fought for the ideas of liberty and freedom. Are we ready for another puppet of the government? Dib is a loose cannon. Always ready for a fight, constantly wearing rouge," Poonchy stood as he began his debate.

Dib looked down at himself. He wasn't wearing a stitch of rouge on him. Poonchy continued.

"Now, granted, if we were to allot Dib here what he wants, the government assumes the debts. Now, who does that benefit? Oh, that's right, Dib." He uttered the man's name with malice.

"That's not true!" Dib retorted.

"No one else should have to bear the weight of this plan. I'm afraid our friend Zim is right, it sounds like Dib is looking to move the money around to fatten his coin purse."

"Really?" Dib looked up at the other as Poonchy glared at him. "Does no one see what is happening? We're in trouble, gentlemen. All we're trying to do is run a real nation and combat the debt we've incurred. You're going to listen to someone who's been in a hidey-hole in France? C'mon. Not only that, listen to Zim redirect the main questions—someone else you should be concerned with. You don't think those aren't questions of someone who has plans to dominate us?"

"Oh my God, he IS crazy," one of the cabinet members said.

Dib's face fell as his raised fist in his moment of passionate argument lowered. "Wait, what?"

"Zim? Zim is trying to dominate the world when he saved our rears back in Yorktown?" Madge asked. "Why would someone who saved our rears want to take it over? Why not take it over when he had the chance when all of us were in jeopardy?"

"You're in cahoots with him!" Dib practically screamed.

The banging of a gavel sounded behind him as Membrane shook his head in pure unadulterated disappointment. That was a look Dib never wanted to see from someone towards him, ever. Disappointment was worse than anger. Disappointment lingered longer than anger.

"Alright, alright, slow down," Membrane said, placing the gavel down. "Enough."

"You're ranting this way because you don't have the votes on your side," Poonchy said, bumping fists with Nick Madison, who simply grinned.

"And I'm afraid if you don't have enough votes, well, we can have you removed."

Dib turned his head towards Membrane, who nodded sadly in agreement. He expected so much more of his son. His poor, insane son.

"I know you all don't believe me, but Zim is NOT on our side. Neither is his friend, Madge. You'll see." He sounded like a ranting lunatic on a soapbox to anyone who would listen, or pay him any sound mind.

"Perhaps our Treasurer should take a brief recess back home?" Zim suggested.

"You would like that, wouldn't you!?" Dib snapped.

Another sharp, loud pound of the gavel. "Alright, we'll reconvene. Dib, maybe you should go home."

Dib balked at the suggestion. He had his chance, he took his shot and it missed. Slowly, he was deflating and descending into the depths where he originated. All of this just to receive dismissal. Dib couldn't tell if he wanted to cry, punch something, or something else that he wasn't sure of yet. His stomach was giving him mixed signals on what it needed at the moment.

Sighing, he picked himself up, passing the other cabinet members as they consoled Zim on the vicious accusations held against him. He didn't look over his shoulder to see if anyone looked back, instead, he kept walking. His steps echoed in the hallway, the sound of his father's gavel behind him. The sound resonated in his eardrums and caused Dib to shiver uncomfortably.

"You know, I believe you."

Dib picked his head up, stopping in his steps in the middle of the City Hall hallway. A sole woman was standing there, her purple hair loose around her shoulders. A beauty mark touched beneath her left eye. He recognized her from years ago, when he first began this quest when he arrived in the city with his sister. She wore a white pinstriped dress on this day, thick black lines cascading vertically, the bodice with wisps of purple. She was leaning against the wall, where odd papers hung loosely for events and reminders. However, he only noticed her.

"I'm sorry, miss?"

"I believe you. I couldn't help but overhear." She picked herself up from the wall, the heels of her boots clacking against the marble flooring as she approached him. "You may not believe it, but you're famed in these parts. Decorated war hero of Yorktown, exceptional investigator-"

"That's more my son," Dib said sheepishly. "He sees the ghosts."

"He's your son," she agreed. "I'm afraid I'm familiar with your friend Zim in there, and he's bad news."

Dib felt his heart nearly stop. Was this woman real? He looked down at her as she took his arm and began to usher him out of the hall and into the streets. He felt her hand around his arm. Yep, this was real.

"Forgive me for being too forward, but I do believe we can have a very valuable partnership and can put a stop to him."

Dib felt himself slightly swoon. Aside from his own wife, hardly anyone believed Dib—the meeting back there proved it. He simply lacked a proper support system, he realized. Zim had the table eating out of his hand. He needed to combat fire with fire. If this woman was the start of a support line for him, then it could only mean good. She had to have known people. He found himself very attracted to this prospect.

The woman's eyes appeared hopeful and desperate at the same time for him to reply with a nod or a shake of his head. She wanted him to say yes.

"What has Zim done to you?" He asked. "For you to be so hell bent on stopping him?"

"Zim and I have a long and aggravated history," she said, honestly. She reminded herself to not give away too much in one sitting, especially within hearing distance of the other. "He has done a lot of wrong by me."

Dib was uncertain how to take that. He opened the doors to exit the building. It had begun to rain, her arm tightened on his bicep as he looked down at her. Dib shrugged his coat off and offered it to her to place over her. She gave him a look of surprise at the gesture—the human element. Most of them were stupid and ignored her on the street. This one was less challenged than others were.

"I suggest we start soon. There are some," she paused, "friends I want you to meet."

Inwardly, Dib squeaked with joy. He knew it. She knew people who could be of help. There was hope yet. Since public announcements were stirring more complexities than assistance, Dib understand then that this would have to be dealt with privately.

"Oh, but before we begin. What's your name?"

"Oh me? My name is Tak."