Sublime Awakenings

Sublime Awakenings: Chapter 51

Todd followed Dib into the I-Flip bathroom, speeding up when Dib opened the door to catch it with his back so none of the germs would get on his hands. At Gaz's insistence, they had stopped for breakfast on the way to the Membrane house where they were apparently going to take a space ship to a base that orbited the dark side of the moon. Inside, he looked under every stall to make sure no one else was present before leaning an elbow against the urinal stall next to the one that Dib was standing at. “Hi, Dib.”

Dib paused awkwardly with his hand in his unzipped black jeans. “Uh, Squee? Do you think I could have some personal space? I'm kind of trying to pee here.”

“I want you to leave Pepito alone.”

“Seriously, it's more than a little uncomfortable when other guys stand that close.”

“I'm being serious.”

“So am I. I can't go when you're there.”

Todd nodded, trying to pretend that this position wasn't making him feel like an idiotic jerk. “I'll leave as soon as you say you'll leave him alone.”

Sighing dramatically, Dib pulled his hand out, giving up on some much needed bladder relief for now. “Oh, so I'm not allowed to investigate now?”

“I think most people would call that stalking, including the Diablos. Pepito was talking about calling the cops if it happens again.”

“Psh. Cops. Never believing my stories … always confiscating my evidence.” He paused to think about what the cops would say about his investigating that morning. “Alright, so maybe I got a little carried away. I shouldn't have been outside his house, but you've gotta admit that he is pretty weird.”

“Weird? Compared to whom?”

“That's just it. Compared to himself. His normality at skool is weird when compared with how he acted when it was just us.”

“Yeah, Dib, but some people change in stressful situations. Like Brian says, everyone is different and that doesn't make their form of coping with hard times wrong.”

“Sure, sure. But it's not just that. He's too smart to be that popular.”

“So is your sister, but she seems to be doing a good job at pretending to be shallow and trend-obsessed so far. I think lots of popular people fake it in one way or another. I'm not saying it's not annoying, but it's not paranormal.”

“Squee, people go missing when they cross him. They end up dead or in a comma or-well, just plain weird.”

Todd frowned, but stayed persistent. “And by weird you mean popular?”

“Sometimes, yeah.” Dib shifted his feet on the tile floor, fully aware of how crazy his claim had to sound to anyone who hadn't seen the things that he himself had. “Now I know that part might not sound so evil, but have you ever met Willy?”

“The British guy?”

“But he's not British! Or charismatic!” Dib stretched his arms into the air in fast motions at the exclamations, then crossed them over his chest for the follow-up. “The elementary skool brainwashed him to be the perfect skool president. Under all that prop is a drooling moron with about as much social appeal as the skool toilets. Besides, have you ever heard a real British person talk like that?”

“No, I guess not. But I'm kind of glad I didn't spend that much time in elementary skool now … although maybe from Willy's perspective it was a good thing?” He shook his head at himself for getting lost in the side notes of the conversation. “So, you think Pepito brainwashes people?”

“I-don't know! I just know that something is going on at the skool, and some of it seems to be related to him. The disappearances have picked up a lot this skool year. I can't find a connection with him to all of them, but whatever it is is getting worse. It's something with the popular kids ... Pepito's not the only one I'm looking at.”

“But you don't have any ideas about what?”

“Well, there's a chance, a very small one, that it's not paranormal at all. It could just be some kind of cult or gang, in which case I might turn it over to the police or the FBI. But the paranormal is everywhere, hidden in the mundane. I just need to turn over the right rock. I thought at first that he might be a werewolf.”

“A werewolf? Really? I mean, I get how spiritual things can all be real because they're real in a different kind of way, but werewolves?”

“I saw a wolf slipping into his house this morning through the back door.”

“Dib, that's just his dog. She's half wolf and half malamute.” Those were her biological halves, in any case ....

Dib nodded. “Yeah, but werewolves often keep actual wolves as pets or pack members.”

“Huh?”

“Human werewolves are a product of the Bad Wolf Virus. It's related very distantly to Rabies, but it's a DNA virus. The theory is that originally, a freak strain of Rabies merged with a DNA Virus in a wolf population. The result was a virus with less virulence. It still infects and affects the central nervous system, causing very mild, constant swelling, which can give rise to mania or psychosis. In addition, the virus incorporated some of the genome of the wolf pack. Like many DNA viruses, it spreads those genes to new hosts through horizontal gene transfer, meaning that as the disease progresses, mania and wolf-like behavior, and sometimes even appearance, may emerge together to create what we call werewolves. As these symptoms increase, the victim is more likely to infect others, sometimes forming a pack of werewolves. If his pet wolf bit him, then they would be part of the same pack.”

“Wow. That's really freakish and scary … but kind interesting.”

“Yeah?” Dib was startled for a second at actual interest. “I mean, yeah, it is. So, basically, the human group starts acting more like a wolf pack, defending their territory and honor, intimidating or killing enemies and turning new members. Often, the pact will try to live together or near each other, functioning like one big family unit. There is usually one alpha female and one alpha male; a couple who have social and sexual dominance over the rest of the group. Because humans generally have access to more resources and produce fewer offspring, other members may be permitted to breed as long as the alpha's offspring is given precedence. When the group becomes too large to be manageable, or when there is a fight that can't be resolved, one or more members may leave to start their own pack.

“Because of the mania, as well as the new-found feelings being produced by the gene transfer, they often develop odd beliefs that incorporate popular myths about werewolves, such as an affinity for the moon, the idea that they're in some way evil or predatory, that they're hunger for meat is best served via dead or living human bodies, and so forth. Religion also tends to reflect their werewolf identification. Some groups worship the moon or a mood goddess, especially Hecate because of her connection to dogs or wolves. Others take a more Jedaeo-Christian view, usually believing that they have made a pact with Satan to gain power or that they have been recruited by God to fight witches and demons in Hell to protect the living world.”

“Wow. Why don't more people know about this?” It sounded like it would make a great Discovery Channel special! Creepy, but great; kind of like the one about head hunters. He suddenly realized that he was still leaning against the stall and pulled away, even more germ-and virus-conscious than when the conversation began.

“Flat World Syndrome. People want to believe that everything is simple and mechanistic and never-changing. It feels more secure that way.” He smiled. “Boring, but safe.”

Todd nodded. “But you seriously think Pepito's a werewolf?”

“I told you, Squee. I don't know. Just be careful around him. And don't … you know … share any DNA.”

“Yeah. I'll remember to clean the needles when we're shooting crystal meth.”

“That's … not exactly what I meant.”

“I know, Dib, and trust me, I'm not planning on sharing any DNA.” Even if Pepito wasn't a werewolf, which he wasn't, he had still been with too many people for that idea to be too appealing … at least when he was thinking clearly. Not to mention the scary aspects of both sex and Pepito.

“Good. If he tries to get you to do anything without a condom or share blood, it could be an attempt to infect you with the Bad Wolf. You'll need to tell me because if it comes down to it and you resist, he may suspect you know, and at that point-”

“I get it, Dib. I really do. I don't agree, but I get it. If anything like that happens, I'll tell you, but only if you promise not to spy on him anymore.” Todd sighed. “It's hard enough at skool and in public when you and Zim are going at each other full throttle.”

“What exactly are you trying to say?” Dib straightened his glasses indignantly on the bridge of his nose.

“I'm trying to say that it reflects badly on me when you're stalking one of the few other friends I've got. I just don't want this to escalate to the point where I have to take sides, okay? Please? Don't you have other cases … cases with evidence, maybe?”

“Squee, don't you think a threat like this, to human kind itself, is bigger than individual friendships?”

“No. I don't know. It might be if you knew for sure!” Todd took a few seconds to breath. That had actually hurt a little. He was starting to see why Dib's obsessions were such a source of scorn for Gaz. “Don't you think he would have killed Zim if he's a werewolf who wants me in his pack or whatever? Zim practically tried to kill me, and I'm doing my best to forgive him for that, even though I'm pretty sure he's not even sorry, for you, you know.”

Dib looked down at his combat boots, pretending to make sure his laces were in order, when what he really wanted to do was avoid Squee's watery, yet fiery, gaze. Of all the times that his dad and sister had tried to deter him from investigations, neither of them had ever employed direct personal guilt. “Fine. I won't stalk him. Just … make sure you watch out for anything suspicious. Oh, and maybe get me a DNA sample … then I could tell for sure!”

“Dib.”

“Right. I'm dropping it, although I'm still going to investigate the disappearances separately. I can't help it if he has anything to do with them.”

Todd shrugged. “That's fine with me. I … I hope you find out about the disappearances. Even if the answer is creepy and not what I want.”

“Thanks, Squee. You're a good friend.” Dib gave him a big smile and a pat on the shoulder. “Now could you leave me alone?”

“Heh. Yeah. Sorry.” Backing out of the bathroom, he returned the smile, though his own was more apologetic. After darting through the breakfast crowd, he made it to their table, plopping down into a booth seat beside Pepito.

“Hey,” Pepito greeted, “how'd it go in there? I ordered what you told me.”

“Thanks. It went okay. Pretty good, I guess. As good as that kind of thing can go.” He cringed when he saw Gaz, who had pulled a chair up to the end of the table, giving him a disturbed look.

“If you guys are gonna be disgusting freaks, at least do it when we're not about to eat.”

“Yes!” Zim spoke up, loudly. “Keep your filthy bathroom habits to yourselves, wretched potty-party goers!”

“Eww.” Todd wrinkled his nose and laughed at the same time. “What does that even mean?”

“You think Zim knows?” Zim demanded.

“Well, you are the one who just said it.”

Zim made a gagging noise, holding one of the still-human hands over the table to wiggle the fingers at the ickiness of it all. “It's when herds of you human beasts all flock to the waste disposal rooms together to do … whatever it is you creatures do in there. Those pig-skin-ball players do it all the time. I suspect it has to do with more of your filthy mating ritual behavior, but have no desire to learn first hand lest they attempt to soil my superior Zim-self with their horrible bodily … products.”

“Oh, thanks, Zim. That's much better.” Gaz rolled her eyes and blew bubbles in her chocolate milk. Maybe there was some way she could use that against Chunk … if it was even true. She looked to Pepito expectantly. “Well?”

“'Well' what?” He sat his coffee down, stirring a packet of creamer in. “I'm only really friends with a few people on the team. I think the bathroom thing is mostly roughhousing … pulling each others pants down, punching each other in the balls … a few bear ass slaps maybe. Not very classy.” He shrugged. “The locker rooms and overnight trips to play against other skools are when the sex stuff happens.”

Todd choked on his orange juice, nearly spitting some back out into his glass. He could see that Gaz's bubbles had overflowed from her drink, while Zim appeared mildly disgusted yet vindicated, and Dib, who had just returned from the restroom, looked highly confused.

“What's wrong? Roaches in the deep fryer again?”

“No!” Gaz punched him in the arm as he took his seat beside Zim and across from Squee. “Do you people think we could possibly talk about something less sickening? Like maybe bloody carnage? I'm lucky I have a strong stomach.”

“O-kay,” Dib said, “It's not my fault that roaches were in the deep fryer once. It was at the I-Flip across town, but still. You just need to face the facts, Gaz.”

“And the more you talk, the more I feel you to need to face my fist! So be quiet.” She moaned when she saw that their food was on the way. “Finally.”

"Don't tell me what to do, Gaz. You might want to be a little nicer to me considering that I could tell Dad that you drove my car to Brian's house. You don't even have a permit yet, and you're just barely old enough to!”

“Oh, I guess if I'm so young I shouldn't be flying us to the moon base either. Looks like you'll have to convince the artificial intelligence in Tak's ship to take you up yourself.” She smiled sarcastically. “We both know how much she likes you.”

“Fine. Then I'll just have to override her again.”

“Yeah. Remember how well that worked out last time? And I thought you decided that the philosophical implications were too … what was the word again? Philosophical?”

“They were! Morally dubious, I mean.” Dib looked down for a moment at his food. “In a very ... philosophical way. You know how I get when I'm excited.”

“At a loss for words?” Gaz raised a brow. “Then why do never forget to talk to yourself? Because that would be nice.”

Pepito laughed to himself as he poured maple syrup over his waffles, feeling a bit of vicarious retribution against Dib and, despite her obvious rudeness, a growing affinity for Gaz.

Forty-five Earth minutes later, Zim and the humans had finally arrived at the Dib's house. As soon as the door was unlocked, he darted inside, looking around the gray-toned living room as he was suddenly struck my a sentimental feeling. “Now, where is my robot slave?”

“GIR, get down here!” Gaz yelled up the stairs.

“Coming, my Mistress!”

Zim's eyes widened at the words as he watched GIR hurl himself down the stairs, roll on the floor, then spring up in front of the Gaz human with a quick salute. His dog disguise had been died purple! “Eh! Mistress? GIR! What is the meaning of this treasonous talk? I am your master, not that-that human!”

“Oh, hey-ya, Zimmy!” GIR tilted his head to the side. “Mistress Gaz reprogrammed me!”

“You-you reprogrammed Zim's slave!” He pointed a gloved finger at Gaz.

Gaz shrugged. “Just some minor adjustments. His duty mode lasts until I turn it off, and I do mean until I turn it off. He's loyal only to me in that mode. Otherwise, he's still annoying … maybe a bit less stupid … maybe.”

“How! How dare you! GIR belongs to me, Zim!”

“Yeah?” Dib said, “Well, the Earth belongs to us humans and the other species that evolved here, but you're still here, Zim, trying to take it over! Reprogramming your crappy slave is the least of the fair play that you deserve.”

“The least of what I deserve, Dib-stink? I suppose losing Minnie-Moose when my glorious base was destroyed was the least of what I deserve as well, huh! Huh?”

“No-”

“Huh!”

“Shut-up, Zim, that's not what I meant! It's just … this invasion plan is an act of war. You know what they say … or maybe you don't because your an alien … but anyway, 'all is fair in love and war'. GIR is a war machine. If you really care about him as any more than that, then you'll be happy he's still alive … or functional or whatever. And if you don't, then you've got no right to complain.”

Zim could feel the retched human eyes start to sting at the Dib's lowly attempt at diplomacy, but he commanded them to remain dry, instead picking out a phrase that he only half understood. “All is fair in love and war, Dib-monkey? So this 'love' that you feel for Zim absolves the term of our truce?”

“Ugh! Zim, for the last time, I don't love you! And you broke the truce when you tried to kill Squee! Because you miscalculated by placing your trust in Bitters, you're now at a tactical disadvantage to me. It's very simple. Gaz has reprogrammed all of your security except what's in your pak.”

“What?” He looked to the Gaz-beast again. “My base? You reprogrammed my moon base?”

“Yeah, you wanna make something of it?” Leaning against the wall, she crossed one leg over the other as one hand curled into a fist, which she kept at the ready by her side in case he made a move. When he said nothing, only looking a bit crushed, she continued. “I only changed the security. Everything else is still under your control. Your stupid clone body is fine, but hopefully now you and Dib can keep your fights on the ground … and to yourselves.”

Zim narrowed the human eyes at her, though her matching glare was still probably more intimidating than his own. It would still be even after he was back in his proper Zim-body, but then-then he would find a way to turn the tables! He was Zim! He would not be defeated by the pathetic, angry little purple-haired human! Or by her horrible Dib-sibling! He shrugged the human shoulder rigidly before speaking in a false upbeat tone that he had cultivated over the weeks of pretending to be the Squeak's parental unit, “Why, that's just finne, Gaz-human. As long as I may rid myself of this grotesque leaking meat-body, Zim is happy.”

“Great.” Dib clasped his hands together in front of himself, purposefully directing his gaze at Squee and Pepito instead of Zim, whom he knew was lying. Zim had gotten better at it over the years, and especially over the time he had spent at Brian's, but he had been observing him for far too long to fall for it! This time, anyway. “Gaz, why don't you go and warm up Tak's-er, my ship. I've just gotta get a few things from my room.”

Gaz rolled her eyes, glad at least that the annoying arguing had stopped for now. “Alright. You guys might as well follow me out back. The ship is in the garage, but it's not built for this many people, so it's gonna be a tight squeeze. Zim and Dib will take an extra escape pod from the base on the way back.”

Zim lagged behind the others as they followed Gaz. He might be able to make the departure plans work to his advantage.

By the time Dib had located his alien sleep cuffs and hidden them securely inside his trench coat, Gaz had the ship ready to go. She had cleared out everything nonessential so that everyone else could squeeze in behind the pilot seat. Zim already looked unhappy before Dib had even added himself to the small space that really would have only fit one person comfortably. He took a deep breath as it would probably be the only one he was afforded until they reached their destination and climbed in, forcing Squee further into the very back where he looked like he was neatly curling himself into a ball. He saw Pepito scoot back until he was probably leaning against Squee before his field of vision was rearranged so that he saw the clear dome of the spittle runner come closer and closer when Zim slammed his face into it.

“Stay out of my space, worm-child!” Zim clung to the back of the pilot's seat wearily to defend his position as he watched the Dib peel his face from the dome with a small feeling of self-satisfaction.

“It's not your space, space-boy! This was never your ship! And I have to sit somewhere; even if the only space left is beside a horrible space-monster.” Dib shoved Zim back to make room for himself, though his shove wasn't nearly as hard and there wasn't really anywhere for Zim to go.

“Maybe not, Dib, but it is an Irken ship, and that makes it more mine than it will ever be yours!”

“Tak hated you, Zim! That's why she was here to begin with.”

“Nu-uh. She said it wasn't about revenge!” He stopped to consider, then shrugged. “Well, she hated you as well, stinky huyman-worm! She just hated me more because I was more worthy of her hate!”

“Yeah? Well, your freakish alien tongue looks like a worm! All segmented and thin and slimy!”

“Zim's tongue is not slimy! Your tongue is slimy! Slimy and fat and full of juice!”

“Juice? Well, your tongue is full of-” Dib's sentence was cut off as his head was slammed into the dome once again when the ship sped out of the garage at a needlessly fast pace.

“Shut-up, already!” Gaz growled to herself as she maneuvered the ship through the alley and into the sky, heading for the rising sun and the moon as fast as she could. Even though she was physically the most comfortable occupant of the ship, she thought that mentally, being trapped in a metal box with Dib and Zim was pretty close to her version of hell.

As the space ship broke through the atmosphere, Pepito felt Todd's grip on his arm loosen a bit, though his eyes never left the part of the windshield that he could see. There had been surprisingly little turbulence when compared to the movies he'd seen growing up, but he surmised that aliens that had been conquering worlds as long as Zim's people had would have perfected that type of technology by now. Their ships apparently also went a lot faster than anything from Earth did because it only took them about ten minutes of the Earth getting smaller and smaller before the Moon eclipsed most of the view and they reached the base where the ship docked.

Even though there was no way that he would have preferred to spend half a day in the cramped ship, he was a little disappointed in the tiny glimpse of space that he had gotten from the ride until they exited the ship into a large bay with a huge transparent, curved window that spanned the entire length of the wall that was facing the full Earth. He was barely conscious of his feet shuffling him toward the window until his hand came up to lay his palm against the cool surface. The Earth was a blue and white ball, bigger than the Moon looked from the planet, but not by much. The space around it was a surprising inky black with most of the stars obscured by the rays of the sun that were hitting the surface of the Earth, emphasizing the vastness of space as well as the fragility of the free-floating ball of life.

He saw Todd approach out of the corner of his eye, and then he stood by his side, also taking in the view. “It's all so small.”

Todd tilted his head to the side, then nodded. “Yeah, but it's kind of beautiful, isn't it? When your seeing it in circumstances that don't involve being abducted for horrible experiments.”

“Psft.” Gaz waved a hand at the view before grabbing Squee by the arm and dragging him away from the window. “Horrible experiments are more fun to watch. Come on, we're going to play a game on Zim's supercomputer.” She looked back over her shoulder at Pepito mid-step. “You coming?”

Looking back and forth between the view and the other two, he sighed. “I suppose.”

“Yes, yes, run along, filthies.” Zim's eyes narrowed at the humans as they frolicked merrily deeper into his Moon Base, probably spreading an abundance of germs along the way. Thinking that he should probably install some kind of automated cleaning device in the entry port in case of future visitations, he scratched the back of his itchy human head. The horrible fur was growing back now, and the wig that he was wearing only made it worse. Sill, soon-soon he would be rid of this body for good and everything would go back to normal! “Come, Dib-worm! You will assist me in the main lab.”

“Yeah, I know, Zim.” Dib rolled his eyes, but stepped closer to Zim and the hall that he knew lead to their destination all the same. “That's been the plan the whole time, remember?”

“Oh, I remember, Dib. I remember. And such ...helpful help you have been!”

“Was that … supposed to be sarcastic or something?”

“Eh, I dunno.” Zim shrugged. “It was supposed to be a warning for you to not insult the superior memory of Zim, but … it didn't really work, did it?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, this body and its retched hormones! They're making me insane! Now, lets go before I become even more insidiously demented!”

“Uh, alright.” He took a few more steps, but stopped to look back when Zim stayed rooted to the spot.

“Just thinking about the horrors that might befall my brilliant Zim-mind is more frightening than being digested for a thousand years in the acid-filled belly of a Sarlacc. Truly, I might even start returning the vile and deranged love that you hold for me deep within your putrid liver!”

“Deep within my … liver?”

“Yes! Deep within your liver. Now stop dottling.” With that, Zim strode by the Dib, leading the way to the lab where he had been working on his new clone-body, under the Dib's observation, for weeks. As expected, the body awaited him in a containment tube full of life-preserving liquid jellies. He marched right up to it and tapped on the glass, watching as the lekku bristled and jerked about, instinctively searching for the source of the motion and sound. “Excellent. It appears as though the body is ready to receive the pak.”

“Are you sure?” After fidgeting nervously with his glasses, Dib pushed them further up the ridge of his nose. “Doesn't it still need a few more days?”

“What I told you before was merely an estimate, a safe one to be sure. There may be a few remaining weaknesses for a few more days, but it is viable, and I can no longer take the strain of this filthy body.” He turned toward the large computer panel opposite the tube. “Computer! Ready the clone-body for paking!”

“Yes, Zim,” a mechanical voice answered. “Oh, by the way, you have a missed transmission.”

“Eh? Transmission ….”

“From the Massive.”

“The Massive … but the Tallest … and I haven't … and they haven't ...”

“Haven't what, Zim?” Dib narrowed his own eyes suspiciously.

“None of your business, Dib-worm! Now, quickly, out of the lab of Zim! I will call for you when the clone is ready!” He made a dismissive motion with his hand.

“Fine! But you better not be up to anything, not on my watch.” Dib made a big show of storming out of the lab, cutting a sharp corner around a stack of boxes that blocked Zim's view of him. When he reached the exit, he stuck his foot out, quickly pulling it back in so that the door had opened and closed as if he had actually left the lab. Then he crept back up behind the boxes until he had found a good place where he could see Zim and the display screen through a small crack. Perfect. “I'll see what you're up to now, Zim.” He clamped a hand over his mouth when he realized he had whispered that aloud, though lucky Zim didn't seem to hear him.

“Com-put-tor!” Zim commanded, “Verify that the Dib-monkey as exited the lab.”

“Command denied. Security access not granted for subject Zim.”

“Er! That wretched huymun!” Zim stomped the metal floor hard, wincing when it hurt both his foot and his still-aching abdomen. “Right. Just … play the transmission then.” The human stomach in his gut became wobbly when the screen lit up with a static glow before it was replaced with an image of Tallest Red and Purple. They both looked exceptionally happy, and in the absence of quality snack food, that probably wasn't a good thing.

“Hey, Zim,” Red spoke the first few words slowly, causally, as if contact between Zim and the Tallest hadn't tapered off into near nothing over the years before ceasing completely around a month ago. The next words; however, there spoken in a flurry of excitement. “We heard you're dead!”

“Zim, dead!” Purple brought both hands together in mimic of a prayerful motion. “Can you imagine?”

“Are you kidding? I'm been doing nothing else since the academy!” Clearing his throat, Red pulled his gaze away from his co-ruler to look back at the screen. “So anyway, we tried calling your base to check, but the transmission was never received, and you haven't been annoying us with your reports either, so one can only hope.”

“What he's trying to say, Zim, is that we've had you declared dead. You are no longer a part of the Irken Empire.”

“You're a tiny thing, Zim. A tiny, insignificant, little thing with a huge knack for causing trouble. As far as the control brains are concerned, you and your pak no longer exist. So the fact that your horrible data corrupted them at your existence evaluation will no longer protect you from the fate that you so rightfully deserve for the path of destruction that you call your life. In other words, if you're not dead and you come back, we'll have you killed.”

Throughout Red's little speech, Purple took on a righteous, victorious air. “Yeah! We'll have you killed. So there!”

“Hey!” Red pushed him aside to look in the direction that he had been standing in. “Is that donuts?”

Purple looked slightly miffed for only a second before his eyes landed on the same thing, which was still off screen. “Yes, I think it is donuts!”

“Well, gotta go, Zim! If you know what's good for you, don't call us back!”

“Yeah! And if you're dead already, then rest in pieces!” Purple, now off screen himself, laughed hard. “Did you hear me? I said 'rest in pieces'! Because he got himself blown up!”

Red only smirked, and then the transmission went blank.

Even though he had known how the Tallest felt about him for years, ever since that ridiculous excuse for a trail that had been his Existence Evaluation, Zim felt the human knees that were supporting him weaken beneath him, but just as he thought he was going to fall something else did instead. There was a loud crash behind him, and he turned around to see the Dib-thing lying on the floor in a heap of cardboard boxes, packing peanuts and their various contents. His frame became rigid with anger and belated determination. “The Dib! You! You were here the whole time!”

Pushing himself up and then standing, Dib quickly shook his head. “No, I wasn't.”

“Yes, you were! I saw you!”

“No, I just-”

“Silence! Who said you could stick your horrible human nose into Zim's business?”

“Uh, you did when you came to my planet.” Dib tried to make his usual claim seem forceful, though he knew that something was missing this time. He had felt what the Tallest had said like a blow to the chest just as surely as Zim had. It made sense, when he thought about it; Zim's mission had been Dib's life as much as it had been Zim's since his arrival. Right now, he felt like rug had been pulled from under his feet and there was no floor under it, only empty space. “I had to. I thought you were up to your old, filthy evil again. You've already proven that you can't be trusted.”

Something in the alien's human eyes seemed to pale at his own softer words, and Zim looked away, back toward the screen, in silence that was somehow worse than screaming. Slowly, Dib stepped closer to him. “Zim?”

“I can't believe it.” Zim shook his head at the screen, trying to keep his tone even as he forced the words almost thoughtlessly through the thick lips. “Why-why am I so amazing?”

Dib frowned, his hand freezing in midair before returning to his side instead of continuing on its path to … comfort Zim? Man, this was a messed up day.“Uh, didn't you just get fired?”

“Fired?” Zim turned around to face him with a huge smile that he knew probably didn't reach the eyes. He made his voice light and high the way he usually did when talking to the very young smeets from Earth. “Nooo, Earth-smell. Isn't it obvious? Zim has been promoted!”

“That didn't … sound like a promotion.”

“Well, it was!”

Dib flinched at the sudden sharp volume, taking a step back as Zim took several forward. “Okay.”

“That's right!”

“Yeah. I said that it was.” He nearly tripped over another box before Zim finally stopped his approach, looking ragged and unhinged. It was actually a little scary … and sad, though this was possibly the best thing to happen to Dib in years. “So what does this 'promotion' entail?”

“Like I'd ever tell you!”

“Well, are you still gonna be on Earth?”

“As a part of my new promotion, I, Zim, am now the boss of Zim. As such I say that Zim shall reside, and eventually rule with an iron fist, of course, wherever he chooses from now on. And I haven't decided yet whether this worthless ball is still worthy of my time.”

“You know if you leave, that it's still a victory for the Earth, right?” When Zim looked up at him, obviously shocked, Dib felt his own face reflect the emotion. He knew why he had said it, because a part of him liked their rivalry and another, older, part of him still hoped to win it and show the world … and because when he was around Zim, he tended to just blurt things out without thought, much like Zim himself.

But right now Zim wasn't looking at him mindlessly at all. The look was more aware … suspicious, of course, but something else too. There was a softness there that Dib couldn't quite put his finger on.

“Is this about that huymun affection thing again?”

“A-affection?”

“You know, that thing with you and me … that hideous 'love' thing?”

“Ugh. Not this again. I've already told you, Zim, I don't … I don't ....” He stopped to cough, his throat suddenly dry. “Do you want me to love you or something?”

“Of course not! Why, that's … that's the most disgusting thing I've ever heard, as you well know!”

“Then why to you keep bringing it up?”

“Because I have yet to be convinced that it isn't true! And until I am convinced, the sickness will continue its white hot churning in my gut!”

“Zim, I shouldn't have to convince you that it isn't true. You never had any evidence that it was to begin with. Alien underwear isn't proof. And you're the one that sighed that note to me with 'luv'!”

“Oh, that! You mean you fell for that?” Zim bent over backwards a little, holding his churning belly as he laughed deeply. “Pathetic little Dib! You don't even know a mind game when you see one!”

“How could I see a mind game? Anyway, look, I'm not trying to say that you love me. Unlike you, I'm not completely stupid or incomprehensibly arrogant. I'm just saying that if either of us should have a churning gut or whatever, it should be me.”

“Whahaha ... ahaha ... ha.” Suddenly, he nearly chocked on his own laughter. “Wait! Does your gut churn as well?”

“Uh. What does that have to do with-”

“Quick! No thinking, just tell me that you hate me and that soon I'll be just another segment on My Serious Mysteries!”

“It's Mysterious Mysteries.”

Zim leaned closer, his voice going deeper. “Just say it!”

He sighed. “I hate you, Zim, and soon you'll be just another segment on Mysterious Mysteries. Although, realistically, that show doesn't have the best ratings anymore, so it would be kind of a waste.”

Zim grabbed the collar of his shirt to pull him slightly closer. “Did you feel it? The churning sickness?”

“Yeah, a little.” Dib made a face and shrugged him off. “But that's nothing new. I usually feel a little sick around you. You're pretty gross actually. Remember that time with the hypnotic pimple that exploded in class and I had to clean the horrible goo up with a tiny piece of sponge?”

“You mean the time Pustulio exploded after you admitted that you loved him and wanted nothing more than to hold his adorable little hand?” Zim chuckled at the memory.

“Eww. Yes,” Dib said defensively, “And then there was that horrible molt that you went through on Career Day and that time you turned yourself into a hideous blob of stolen organs. Not to mention your issues with meat and-”

“Yes! Zim gets the picture! My amazing, advanced Ziminess makes you churn as well!”

“Yeah. So now you see that I don't have those kinds of feelings for you.” Dib looked down for a moment with a frown. Zim actually looked a little put off … and after just getting kicked out of his own race maybe being denied his stupid, narcissistic 'Dib loves me' fantasy too was a little harsh. His ego was so bloated that it might pop instead of deflating. But he wasn't going to pretend to love him! “Alright, Zim, so maybe 'hate' is a strong word at this point.” He cringed when Zim's eyes narrowed once again in obvious offense. “I mean, I wouldn't use the word 'friendship' or anything. But we … we know each other pretty well … and sometimes we have fun, right?”

“Fun? The struggle for your planet has been fun, Dib?”

“I don't know! Yeah, sometimes. God. I don't even know what you want me to say here.

“That's because I do not require you to say anything, Dib-worm. My promotion is none of your concern. I will let you know when I make a decision about this planet. Now close your noise tube and stand by for the paking.”

Dib sighed as he watched Zim walk over to the medical table where the computer had already placed the new Irken body. It was slimy, or gooey as Zim would surely insist, and naked and laying on its front with its back exposed to the cool air of the lab. Every now and then parts of it, mainly the antenna or the fingertips would twitch. It made him shudder thinking about the fact that there was already a living brain in there … and brain cells in the antenna as well according the research he had collected the last time they were here. He had learned years ago when Zim's pak had attached itself to him that Zim's body was mostly just something to carry his pak around, and it had been creepy even then, before he'd had time to think about what that meant.

Once again the moral implications were very dubious. If that body wasn't paked or kept in the status tube, what would it become? He had no idea, and he was fairly sure Zim didn't either. “How long has your race been using the paks, Zim?”

Zim hissed as the two pak cords left the back of the human body, detaching more painfully from its spinal cord than they would have from an Irken one. There were still healing stimulants in that body so it wouldn't take too long before the wounds were gone, but that wouldn't happen in less than ten minutes. He snatched the pak out of the air when it hovered around to him. “Be quiet, Dib-fool! Irkens have always used paks; we were engineered with them. That's why our brains only hold knowledge for ten minutes when the pak is removed.”

“Oh. I guess that makes sense.” Watching Zim open up his pak to make manual programming changes, Dib cringed, much as he had done since he had known that it was pretty much like doing open brain surgery-on yourself! He couldn't bring himself to attack Zim when he was fooling with it after that.

After he had removed the official identification codes that no Irken was ever supposed to remove, Zim deactivated the personality temperance as well. Technically, the second program should have stopped him from being able to remove the code, but for some reason it had never done that when his pak was off. It did do other things, though, things that Zim was tried of bothering with now that he wasn't a part of the Empire. Besides, without the temperance suppressing his natural Ziminess, he would possibly become even more amazing! Then one day- he stopped, not in the mood for grand schemes at the moment and realizing that he was running out of time.

Soon, his brain would start oozing out intelligence once more! The Dib! He couldn't let himself get that weak in front of him! He held the pak over the new body, and after about thirty seconds, the cords shot out and ran into the two holes that the computer had punched into its back in a quick and efficient surgery. The pak was pulled tight against the back, and then emitted a shock that shook the body. One of the hands gripped the edge of the table.

Dib's eyes widened as the new Irken Zim sat up.

“I am Zim?” He felt his new body's arms, chest and naked crotch to make sure. Sure enough, there were no nipples, no bundles of fat, no freakish hole in his belly and no icky leaking from his cloaca; just smooth, hairless green skin. “I am Zim! Better than Zim! Irken Zim! And I am free of that disgusting body! Finally, no longer will I wallow in filth with the smelly pig people in that filthy trough of dirt that is the Earth!” His eyes landed on the body that he had formerly inhabited, now standing to the side in a confused daze. “Uggh. Former human me, lie down on that table!” He pointed to a second medical table. “Soon your underlying Squee-mothery self will emerge.”

“B-bbbuuttt,” Zim uttered from the human body, “… Zim … I am Zim … Zim is me?”

“No, not anymore. Now Zim is me! Human Jennifer is you. Sad, I know.” He jumped off the table to stand on the floor, feeling a surge of pride at his improved height, which he estimated to be about five feet and seven inches in human terms. Yes, quite an improvement, though he had been careful not to go too tall as not to arouse suspicion within the Empire that he had cheated, though that hardly mattered now. Stupid, ungrateful Empire. He smirked. “Computer! I require a cleaning! Dib-worm, take that human woman to the table!”

Quickly looking away from the naked Irken as a shower apparatus descended from the ceiling, Dib did as he suggested, taking the remaining human body by the hand and leading it to the empty table. Its eyes looked wild and scared and it was griping his arm very tightly as he pushed it down to lie on its back. “Uh, Zim?”

“Dib-human?” Zim, at least he thought that was his name, gripped Dib's arm tighter when he tried to pull away to talk to the other, better Zim, to pull him down close. “Brain … so … leaky … wrong … dark.”

Dib gripped the hand back, not knowing what else to do. “Zim, is this?”

“It's normal, Dib,” Zim shouted through the shower fluid, “In a few minutes the reminiscence will be gone.” He frowned, purposefully looking away from the woman's body that still contained a small piece of himself, stupid though it may have been. Watching himself die, or fade away as was the preferred term, was not something that he had ever planned on doing, and he sincerely hoped that it would not be an experience that he would have to repeat. “Computer, sedate the female human body. Make it unconscious for … I don't know … four hours.”

“Command confirmation needed.”

“I confirm,” Dib said quietly. He still held the hand until it released its grip on his arm as its eyes fluttered closed.

The computer supplied Zim with a new, fitting uniform without his having to ask and he changed into it quickly. The Irken fabric was nice against his skin, though if he stayed on Earth, he would once again need a new wardrobe. And he would have to explain his new found tallness. “Heh. A growth spurt ought to do the trick.”

“What?” Dib turned around to look at him, the new height difference between them and the old uniform reminding him a little of middle skool.

“Eh. Oh, nothing. Just thinking over my options is all. Computer, a disguise!”

“So, you're going back to the Earth with us?”

“Does that imply that I have a choice?” Zim donned a copy of his standard contacts and wig, then rubbed at the lenses that seemed scratchier than ever before because his eyes were band new. They had only been ready for new ocular implants about a week ago.

“No.”

He raised a fur-less brow ridge. “Then why'd you ask?”

Dib shrugged. “I don't know. It just sounded …” Nicer. It had sounded nicer. But Zim wouldn't appreciate that under the conditions. “It was a lead-in to my next question. Where are you gonna be staying? I mean, obviously you can't stay with Squee anymore, but since you look more like … you … again, my dad won't think your a hypnotized hobo.”

“Nice one, Dib. But I'm not falling for your tricky … trickery. You just want me to stay so you can expose me now that I'm Irken again!”

“What? I don't need to do that now that you're-”

“Now that I'm what, Dib?”

“Uh … promoted. I don't know if you're a threat anymore.”

“Nor do I, Dib-worm. All the same, I think I'll just get more fake monies from the computer and look for an inferior huymun dwelling unit of my very own until I make a decision.” Zim narrowed his eyes a little. It had been one thing residing with the Dib when he had occupied a human body. Dib wouldn't harm another pig-smelly, besides maybe Chunk, so he could be pretty certain he was safe. And even though the Dib had admitted to the sickly churning feeling, he had denied its oh-so-apparent meaning, which was that he was weakened by the decease of loove and therefore could not harm Zim. “Computer, bring me monies!”

-----------End Chapter------------

Notes:

-“Horizontal gene transfer (HGT), also Lateral gene transfer (LGT), is any process in which an organism incorporates genetic material from another organism without being the offspring of that organism. By contrast, vertical transfer occurs when an organism receives genetic material from its ancestor, e.g. its parent or a species from which it evolved. Most thinking in genetics has focused upon vertical transfer, but there is a growing awareness that horizontal gene transfer is a highly significant phenomenon, and amongst single-celled organisms perhaps the dominant form of genetic transfer. Artificial horizontal gene transfer is a form of genetic engineering.” More: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horizontal_gene_transfer
-Bad Wolf Virus is a Doctor Who reference, but it's out of context here. As far as I know it belongs to me in the context I'm using it.
-Lots of inspiration for my version of werewolves came from this wiki article: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Werewolf

-Football team stuff happened at my high school...and stuff like it happened with some of my straight guy friends and their other straight guy friends.

-From the Moon, the Earth has phases, just like the Moon does from the Earth. The monthly cycle of female humans typically alines with the Moon phases, with the period occurring around the time of the New Moon. When the Moon is new from Earth, it rises and sets roughly with the sun. It is on the side of the Earth that faces the sun, thus its light side faces away from the Earth. Because of that position, the Earth appears full from the moon during that time, and Zim's Moon Base stays on the dark side of the moon, which faces the full Earth once a month, to help avoid detection. For more info: http://home.hiwaay.net/~krcool/Astro/moon/moonphase/

-The Sarlacc is a alien creature from Star Wars: “Because most Sarlacci inhabit isolated environments and rely on prey to stumble into their pit, they rarely feed. As a result, Sarlacci have evolved an efficient digestive process. The stomach of a Sarlacc slowly dissolves prey into nutrients in a painful process that can last for several thousands of years. Victims are kept alive in the acid-filled stomach throughout digestion and few ever escape.” More: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sarlacc

-The Alaskan Malamute is a generally large breed of domestic dog (Canis lupus familiaris) originally bred for use as an Alaskan sled dog. It is sometimes mistaken for a Siberian Husky, but in fact is quite different in many ways. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alaskan_Malamute

-Red and Purple and Zim's reaction to being fired are largely inspired by the script for The Trial, in which Red and Purple try to have him killed and he actually realizes it. The Trial, and most or all of the other scripts, are considered cannon in SubAwake, and there are lots of references to them throughout the fic. Those scripts can be found at the bottom of the closet at RWaM & GIR: http://www.roomwithamoose.com/closet/

-Cloaca- “In zoological anatomy, a cloaca is the posterior opening that serves as the only such opening for the intestinal, reproductive and urinary tracts of certain animal species. The word comes from Latin, and means sewer. All birds, reptiles, and amphibians possess this orifice, from which they excrete both urine and feces, unlike placental mammals, which possess two separate orifices for evacuation. Marsupials and monotremes also possess one (in marsupials and a few birds, the genital tract is separate).” More info: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cloaca This is part of my personal take on Irken sexual/reproductive nature. Except paks are very efficient with nutrients and can store them for latter and convert them, so Irkens wouldn't actually defecate unless they ate something their bodies and the pak couldn't digest (like some food from another planet/biogenesis). They urinate (regularly, but not anywhere near as much as humans...and it depends on how much they drink, obviously) and the urine usually evacuates the small amount of extra stuff their body can't use.