Chapter 20: " Identify "

They walked through the barrier of white, and entered into a large expanse. Lights showered upon them, from systems way ahead upon the ceiling. He blinked a few times to realize where he was. A pungent scent entered into his miniscule nostrils, and grimaced. It smelt defiled in here; The entire room was laced with freshener and other cleanser that polluted the air, along with other untraceable remnants that inconspicuously smelled of otherworldly odors. He kept following the Tallest, making sure his gaze was adhered to his back so he wouldn't lose direction from the light. After a while, he noticed he was in an assembly hall. The lights that showered upon the audience section were, in reality, very much dim; it was just the smeet's eyes reaction to the abrupt change of lighting was what made them appear so blinding.

He followed the Tallest, as they slowly made down the sloping path, with rows of chairs passing their side boundaries. This was unlike the other assembly halls; this one was much smaller in comparison, possibly the size of a very large dorm back at the Instruction Hall. The smeet also noticed that the room was empty. The chairs were hollow and left untouched; the multitude of them, now vacant, made the room appear slightly bigger in it's capacity. He looked around, curious, wondering what this room's intended audience would be. The red structures lingered in solitude, as if they awaited occupation.

" Over here." The Tallest ushered. His antennae stood, and he glanced back ahead of him, seeing he'd gained a distance between the two, meandering too far behind. He hurried. There was another Irken standing on stage. Zim kept his eyes on him, as he walked forward. The person remained still; eerily resembling a standing corpse.

At the front rows, was one seat. Without intention, he slowed down his pace as he stared at the lonely chair. There was also a considerable distance from the seat to the mount of the stage, one seemingly too prominent. He knew it was far from the stage so the viewer sitting upon it could have a good point of view, but it felt untrustworthy. The Tallest turned again, and his eyes met his.

" Zim." He said, more commanding. The smeet looked up, realized his place, and jogged towards it. He sat down upon the chair when he was motioned to.

The Tallest turned to the Irken standing on stage, and nodded. The person immediately left his place, and exited throughout the backdrop in response, as if there had been a communicated message. He looked back at Zim, and winked.

He began walking away. The smeet didn't understand at first, but after a while, He knew the slight difference in his actions was on virtue of the person standing on the stage, as he was never allowed to show kindness to any of the new smeet trainers. His eyes followed the larger Irken's movements all the way up the slope until his presence was no longer inside the same room. The only thing he knew what he was here for was to observe, albeit the entire audience consisting of one person. When the door closed, the atmosphere tightened, and the room felt more daunting, and cold. The silence was like a drill at his antennae, and he felt uncomfortable. It was as if the warmth escaped with him. But he wouldn't forget his training. He took a deep breath, and looked forward.

Being afraid isn't optional

He remembered the stern voice from his Instructor.

The lights were tuned off in the audience section, and the only ones left was now coming from the stage, spilling barely into the reach where the smeet sat. He watched the back wall, and waited for an appearance, for action. A few moments later, sounds erupted from the backstage, and surprised the small Irken. He listened attentively, as he thought what he was hearing was a heavy carriage with tight grating bolts, making shrills and squeaks. Like wheels. Along with heavy, sharp footsteps, sided with quieter, thudded ones. People.

Was something being lead upon the stage? What was it? The smeet thought to himself. He focused his eyes on the details, and scrutinized the still empty stage. At his position, it was hard to see the floorboards, but he could still make it out from his angle of view.

He blinked. He thought he was seeing colors, but they didn't go away. He squinted and made out a few splotches of colors staining the floor.

It was at that time, two Soldiers came into view, as they walked on the stage from the left point of view. The one at the front was pulling at a pulley, that held a large mechanism, or generator. And the other pushed; centering it at the stage. Their pronounced armor glinted greatly against the lights, and so did the machine they brought. Their boots were the cause of the louder footsteps, but the smeet was certain he'd heard three people.

As if they'd read his mind, and were anticipating his thoughts to answer, one of the Soldiers motioned with their broad hands, as if someone to approach. The smeet blinked.

It was another Irken. Shirtless, and his hands cuffed; linked together with an electric ray-band.

Gir activated, and his eyes opened. His registry was slowly powering up, and the systems and engines inside began functioning. Finally, he gained full conscious and his vision was restored. He blinked a few times, and looked around. He waited for a minute for his mind to start perceiving the world and influencing the details for his mind. The time ticked by, and he was able to remember where he was as he began processing. He'd deactivated on the couch. His mind probably shut down on it's own accord, as he was wasting precious energy. However he was preoccupied watching his favorite shows.

It had been a long time since Gir was able to watch TV again. He couldn't remember exactly why, but he had always hid downstairs. He was afraid of something, and he could only make out that it had inclusion of his superior. However the exact details were escaping him, and whenever that happened, he wouldn't be able to piece back crucial information, despite his job as a Gir unit...

no...

a SIR unit—was to gather pertinent and very important information. He couldn't exactly remember what the acronym meant either, however he knew he had it written on his foot, so he wouldn't forget.

Gir looked around, and saw that the house was empty. For a moment, he thought that strange, and slightly uncomfortable. However feeling that way brought back reminder that the house being empty was the norm; the silence that hung around the rooms, the odd commodity which his superior seemed to value beyond his understanding. He scratched his head. It was at that time, he felt his hand stroke against an indentation. He threw him off momentarily, but after a while he recalled that he had been afraid and in hiding because he was hurt. Gir also felt for his shoulder, and remembered it was indented as well. The motility lacked sufficiency, and he knew that it slightly bothered him whenever his joint refused to move any larger of an obtuse angle. He remembered he got hurt, but—again—recognizing the entire memory as a whole wasn't possible for his small mind.

Gir wasn't sure why his superior was angry. He just knew he was, and that on virtue he would have to escape the ensuing wrath. It wasn't something that happened often, but it never ceased to scare him when it did.

He stood up from his sitting position, and stretched his arms. Doing so allowed the wires in his body to uncurl and start in action. He jumped from the couch and landed on the floor. He began walking around, humming to himself. Gir wanted to explore. He always received this urge whenever he'd just woken up, as his body wanted activity and motion to re-awaken his internal systems. His arm faltered, and stopped as he tried to walk normally, and it would jerk out of place and then repeat. It was annoying, however Gir never remembered that it occurred further throughout the day, and so he didn't let it bother him that much.

He walked to the door and opened it. It was grey and bleak outside, and the sun was peeking over the limpid covering of clouds, shining weak rays to announce it's presence. After a while, his electric nerves registered it was cold, and activated in reaction to notify the rest of the body. He liked the way it felt against the metal sheet of his skin, however his superior didn't. Last time he left the door opened, he was quickly scolded and promptly punished. Gir closed the door and blinked.

He was still humming to himself. A tune that Computer always played. He could never quite pronounce the name, much less even recall what it was, however he still remembered it out of his pleasure of hearing it. Computer described it as being beautiful, and so Gir decided to agree; despite his moments of questioning whether music was able to have physical attraction or not.

He turned around and headed towards the black TV screen, having the music in mind. He wanted to hear it again. It'd been slightly like a habit, however he wasn't sure why. The robot looked at the screen and took a moment to process. He smiled, amused, when he remembered a nickname he created for Computer a while ago. Computer didn't much appreciate it, even less find it amusing. However that was the reason why Gir liked to say it to him sometimes; It annoyed him.

" Compoo." He giggled uncontrollably, as he pronounced the asinine term. He awaited a playful exasperated sigh, or a proclamation that opposed of the name. However he stopped laughing to realize that Computer didn't respond.

" Compoooter?" Gir said jokingly, and laughed. Again, silence returned back a response. One that, for a reason, was a bit chilling. His smile lessened, and he moved closer to the screen.

" Are you ignoring me?" He asked, tapping at the screen. He knew very well that to do so aggravated Computer beyond comprehension, as it was the possession of his vision. Past attempts had lead to immediate reprimand.

But now, there was nothing. Gir stopped tapping the screen, and ceased smiling. For a moment, he was slightly puzzled. Computer never would've allowed such a thing to happen. Not consciously, at least... He must've been sleeping, or deactivated. There were times in the morning where Computer wouldn't be on when the others were, so it wasn't anything new.

Then he recalled for the past few days Computer hadn't been saying anything. Gir would watch TV, and tune in as he allowed his mind to sink within the realm that was produced. However there were times where he would let his mind seep a little, and ponder momentarily why Computer hadn't spoken or why he hadn't made his presence known. Though after another few seconds, his mind would draw back to the television, and become absorbed once more. It wasn't normal for him to be asleep for so many days, however it didn't surprise Gir; Computer always stayed on. He would even be on whenever Gir wasn't and when their superior was asleep. He stayed activated for hours on end, and so this was bound to happen. Computer was most likely exhausting his battery.

He rested his chin against the surface of the entertainment center, and placed his hands and arms upon beside it. He lifted himself off the ground and wagged his feet in the air, kicking around.

" I knew you would get tired." He stated, before jumping down; losing interest. He began walking towards the kitchen, and then he entered into through the toilet. He fell down, through the pink cylindrical tubes. He was going to find entertainment elsewhere.

Gir zipped throughout rooms and areas, running rancorously as his metal feet made contact with the metal flooring. Out of his exquisite boredom, he made a marathon out of the underground base. The hallways weren't as continuous and enduring as he always perceived them to be; as they'd seem to result in a circular pattern which met the inescapable end. So he, in response, sprinted in and out of some of the laboratories and rooms, instead of the hallways. Some he remembered as the observatory, the boiler, the Monitor room, and a few science labs that had no equipment or use to them. He believed because of that, it gave him the rightful access, and permission to abrupt the silence with his excitement.

After a while, he stopped running, and computed that his superior wasn't active. Surely if Gir was to be so inconsiderate and mentally-deficient to act in such a careless matter, to the point it could be considered irrevocably rude, his superior would chastise him and furthermore, punish accordingly for his distracting behavior and dismembered sense of moral perspective. Terms which were used in the past; Gir still remembered them. However, that didn't seem to be the case.

Gir decided to wander a little more quietly. He meandered through the halls, and shuffled in an undulating pattern. He still entered through and out of rooms as he pleased, until he entered into a laboratory that was occupied.

He nearly jumped, and then his eyes widened as he realized what he was observing. There were people down here; kids. They were wired up with systems and other computers, blue wires puncturing their arms and legs, as well as an enlarged probe stuck in their head. They were seated at stools, and their bodies resulted in a stage of shock, almost. Arms bent, muscles tense...eyes grey.

That brought a gross fear down into Gir. Their eyes were open, blank and hollow. The definitive point being their pupils. Color could barely be seen in their irises, however that wasn't what Gir was impetuously focusing on. They never blinked. They remained wide-eyed, and staring.

Deathly chills brought the robot in a shiver and his excitement churned to fear. He was used to normal behavior, where people were active, and were alive; emotional. These children...weren't. They remained still, breathing, but silent. Wide eyed and unaware of their environment. Expressionless. They watched endlessly.

Gir's eyes were adhered to the children. Despite the flourishing horror that was worming within, he couldn't look away. He absorbed their details, and he watched them remain. His mind tried to understand what it was that was occurring; why they were there, who they were, but his emotions were filling his systems, and he couldn't comprehend much of what he was trying to.

He wavered slightly, then began approaching slowly. His morbid, and foul curiosity urged him to move, and observe. He wasn't sure if it was to further analyze their state of threat, or their state of safety. Gir questioned their purpose for being here, or what deed they served. He watched the wiring around them, and wondered why they were linked with alternate devices...but the probes caught most of his attention. Gigantic, oversized mechanisms that impaled their craniums. Though it was as if the weight of their probes caused their heads to cave in marginally, as they were very much deformed. Stickers were placed upon them that identified a certain emotion, however Gir wasn't sure why, or what their correlation to the probes were.

He blinked and looked back at the faces of the children, and continued walking towards them with caution. He could hear their breathing at this point. Air that squeezed through their bronchi and wheezed out their trachea. It was labored breathing, and it sounded painful. They were...alive, still. Gir received a shudder, and it slithered horridly around his body, accommodating his fear with disgust. He questioned temporarily whether if he felt scared or relieved to they were alive. His foot hit against a sudden heightened part of a floor; a small inclining ramp that he wasn't aware about, and startled himself.

The tap echoed within the expanse of the room, and Gir cowered against the gravity of the sound. His eyes watched the children, and they slowly looked up at him. His nerves spiked, his antennae lowered, and he chocked back a shriek.

A person...

One whispered. Gir's eyes flitted around to identify who uttered the words, but he didn't see any major facial movements that his mind and eyes could recognize as a source of oral speech. His systems were beginning to override, and he was hyperventilating. He analyzed their faces for reasons he wasn't sure of, then to further realize their emotional reactions: One was beginning to sob, and her face contorted grossly, a heavy distinction than from a few moments prior. One's face formed with animosity, and another with fear. One even smiled...

Gir began backing away, horrified; unearthly waves of terror crept down his wiring, and into his engines with exhilarating force. He felt dread grind against his insides, and he felt as if they were twisting. Alarms inside went off, and he felt anxiety stampeding within his small, metallic body.

Don't hurt me anymore...

One cried, and made him jump. She was the one who was sobbing. Her intakes for air sounded more dreadful, as she began hiccuping and tears spilled down her grimy face. His eyes widened, and all he could do was watch, terrified.

I'm sorry!

She screamed, and repeated. Her commotion was causing uproar from the others, and the noises were becoming an amalgamation of nonsensical words and hysteria, filling with treacherous shrills of screams and laughter. Gir couldn't stop watching the girl. Her grey eyes pierced him, and the explicit horror in her face, her distorted, malformed expression, was embedding in his mind, as a daunting, horrific figment to never be forgotten. The sheer dread and pain inside her, was replicated within him. Gir realized then, he was screaming too.

He ran out of the room, covering his eyes, as if to physically shield them from what he beheld. He left behind the children, as they continued to grieve and wallow. His small mind was shattering, and the thought of solace seemed intangible, however it didn't stop him from trying to reach for it.

In that moment, his abdomen slammed against an unexpected form, and it forced him to stop. He felt then he was being subdued, as arms tightened against his body. He screamed and tried to worm out of the possession, but the force choked his body of movement. His anxiety and adrenaline kicked in, and his mind was in an untraceable rush; everything logical stretched and distended further apart into unidentifiable particles of emptiness and insanity. In reaction, his mind, in rush to find answers, began resulting to solutions and impetuosity as he'd began using his limbs to hurt whoever was whelming him. His mind didn't care to think whom it was; all he knew was that he was in danger.

" Gir!" He heard his name growled before his cocked back head had thrown and hammered against his assailant. It released the death grip that overwhelmed his entire body, and Gir finally opened his eyes to flee. However, momentarily living in his freedom, he was tackled and restrained once more. He resulted back to panicking and screaming. He tried squirming again, and kicking, but that was of no use. In mere moments, he lost all data function and was deactivated. All power stopped; and so did all his thinking. The thing left in his blackening mind was the images of the children, and their despondency and terror...

• • •

His eyes opened, and the events that had embedded in his mind flustered about, and he jolted awake. Gir lifted his head, and he didn't recognize where he was at first. The fear that overworked his system seeped back in slowly, and swelled inside. He felt a disgust register within and he began to feel sick. He'd been laid upon a table, and he was in a laboratory. As his mind began to recollect, he was able to form thoughts and he realized he was on a laboratory bed; His superior had flipped the switch on his body which automated a restart function. Gir saw the children a few meters away in front of him as he remained behind him, and the fear struck back at him again.

It was then his superior walked into his view, his hands behind his back, striding with impatience and applied annoyance. He looked up at him, and Gir noticed a very prominent, large laceration underneath his left eye, with a dark purple smear spreading across the lower boundary of his eyelid and the top of his cheekbone. It was another mark to add to the ones that had just began disappearing and healing. It wasn't bleeding, however it was still messily exposed. He kept it that way to make a point; A trembling, smile crept on his face, one void of any sense of lightness or amusement.

" You did this." He said simply. His voice containing a shaking ire. To accentuate the meaning, he pointed to the mark. After wards, he continued pacing slowly, shaking his head with hardly audible scoffs.

" Why the hell were you down here?" He asked, attempting a calm tone at first. Gir was afraid to answer; there was no direct reason why he was down here. To answer truthfully or dishonestly would be a lose, lose situation on both occasions. There would be no easy answer for that, and it brought up Gir's nervousness. He wanted to ponder for a while longer, to try and formulate an answer that wouldn't root an outburst, but Zim didn't have the patience for that; it proved too much even for now, as he glanced behind his back, his angry expression hardening.

" Answer the damn question." He said, assertive. The robot tensed up and he was slowly forming himself into a fetal position. His superior turned his head back, and remained staring in front of him. A slow, shaky sigh contorted out through his nostrils. He was visibly trembling.

Zim suddenly grabbed the surgical tray from a nearby stand, and sent it launching through the air with a shout, and all of the contents on top. It smacked against a lab counter, and further clattered against the floor. Gir's body restricted, as he jumped at the crashing sounds.

He then kicked the surgical stand the tray was apoplectic on, and it was sent crashing against the area behind Gir. He hugged his knees, and he knew the anger and malice that was directed at the objects was in lieu of him.

His superior eye's were laden on him now; filled with spiteful intent. His hands were in tight fists, and the rubber in his gloves groaned in protest. Gir's eyes widened, fearful that he was going to be the next target of his assaults.

But he remained standing there, huffing. It wasn't until a minute later his hand pointed to the children.

" What did you do to them?" He commanded for an answer. Gir's mind reset, and he didn't even realize it was a question until Zim lost his scant patience.

" What did you do to them!" He yelled, and the small robot jumped again. He tried to think of an answer, however his fear was distressing him from all fluent thought.

" I-I didn't mean to—" Came out instead.

" Dammit Gir!"

Zim's hands clenched his skull, and he turned around. He was pacing again, and his breathing was becoming heavier. After another moment, he growled to himself.

" Why can't you follow a single damn instruction!" He shouted, turning back towards him. " I told you not to come down here, and you..." He paused, and seemingly choked on his anger. He held his breath, and his hands tightened into fists again.

Gir only watched, and hoped that he wouldn't receive the shorter end of his ungodly rage. He paced a while longer, and continued the process of calming down. His hands reached his cranium again, and he held his breath.

" By the gods, I hate you so much..." Left his mouth in anger, and his fingers dug into his skull. His superior sat down on the floor, against the counter. Gir felt the words' thrusting puncture, and inside he felt anguish spread. His lips trembled, and he felt his eyes water. His mind wasn't comprehending much of what was happening, of why his superior was so angry. But his confusion and the hurt he received from the demeaning language was paining him severely.

Gir covered his eyes. He didn't want to feel this way; he knew it infuriated his superior that he showed such weak emotions. It revealed his cowardice, and his fragility. Hot embarrassment spilled inside, and he couldn't hold back his sobs. He stifled them, though, despite their intensity.

Zim stood up abruptly, and his eyes re-focused on the inferior being. Gir choked back all his crying as he realized he was under his scrutiny. He watched with fear, hoping, while the anxiety lurking inside him, that he wouldn't receive the thoughts and mind to hurt him. Zim watched with anger, resisting the powerful urge of physical abuse upon this lesser being.

Another minute passed, and he turned away. Gir sighed silently to himself, a long, drawled exhale, that helped alleviate his rising alarm, and passed unsettling chills. His superior resulted back to analysis and study; he snatched at a stray clipboard that was lying upon a counter top, furiously ravaged through the pages, and stopped at a few to inspect them. He'd repeat the pattern, until he finally settled on a few and Gir watched him skim his eyes over the contents. Zim grabbed a few things and began doing some procedural activities; of which Gir wasn't sure of. Silence slowly spread between the both of them, and he remained upon the surgical bed, watching, and remembering. The stillness in oral conversation didn't help with his alleviation, as it only brought his concentration back to his fear of the recent events, triggering back the images instilled in his mind and garnering his disgust and horror. He trembled slightly, nervous and suffering from a small stage of aftershock; The discovering of these children, and the threatening nature of his superior. It left him to falter upon his thoughts, in attempt to recollect whatever information he wasn't sure that he missed.

It was like a puzzle, what Gir always thought of it; When things didn't make sense, or weren't clear, it would conflict itself and format into a complex game which would only make matters worse for him, as he would end up further down in darker pits than he was before. His emotions weren't a beneficial factor either; as it would make his already stumbling conscious into a shattering plane, cycling around his horrid feelings as if it were a reliable basis.

Gir closed his eyes, and buried his face into his knees. Coldness spread throughout his manufactured nervous system, and he continued to tremble. He focused on the sounds he heard, as his superior shuffled around the room to and fro. He was testing, cleaning, investigating, and other things that Gir wasn't sure of. In a way, his superior's presence brought him comfort, despite that he himself despised and detested everything imaginable about the small robot. Oftentimes the comfort was mixed with pain in small doses, however his mind didn't center around it as a problem, as much as he did with the thoughts of the children.

There were times where his superior wasn't so spiteful about everything...Gir wished it was like that all the time, however he never spoke his mind about it to him.

Sometimes he also wished there was a button installed into his system that would release all feelings, however that was one of the disadvantages of being a constructed being; even more so for the people who were born with such emotions and were even more fervent and heavier than what his could accomplish. Like his superior, who trained to deal with those such inferiority. However his ability to keep his composure wasn't portrayed much nowadays. Within each passing week, Zim would become more and more upset, and angry, and it was visibly spilling. He never told anyone about what it was he was so troubled about, and so no one knew how to react to him. Though Gir supposed that he did that intentionally. It was only a feeling, however, so he wasn't sure why Zim would do it in the first place.

It would make sense, though, if considering his recent habits of holing himself inside the underground base. He would stay inside a few rooms for days on end. And he never came back up, from what Gir recalled. Hardly did he ever ask, more so command Gir, for to bring him food whenever a few too many days had passed. He would clean the entire day, doing nothing but washing the counters and floors, and walls, and changing out lights and defective parts of the underground building. And if he wasn't cleaning, he was working on the experiments; the humans, the plants, the animals, etc. He was always doing something. Maybe it helped in some way, but it wasn't to be concluded.

Gir continued waiting for the tightened, and constricted atmosphere to lessen it's death grip and disappear. However his superior was like an incurable grudge, and his recession to any type of social contact made it develop; Gir knew he would have to wait, realistically, a few days for such an occurrence to lose it's pertinence. Especially because it involved physical damage. So he continued sitting there, his arms wrapped around his knees, trembling and drowning in the disturbance of his mind...

Waiting. Sometimes it was all he could do.

Rnote: So...My temporal hiatuses have been becoming MORE unbecoming and frequent. And most of time it's writer's block and stupid school things, like ACT and state tests. So I greatly apologize for those who have been waiting on the edge for an update...I'm going to try and write a bunch more, so you won't have to wait any longer than last time, mmkay? Mmkay. See ya later... ( I can't promise anything... :C)