Sublime Awakenings

Sublime Awakenings: Chapter 57


Dib let out a long, irritated sigh when the door bell rang yet again, this time in a quick succession that projected overlapping echoes throughout the house. Of course Gaz wasn't going to get it even though she was the one expecting company. Digging his heals into the carpet, he pushed his computer chair a few feet back from his desk, then climbed onto his twin-sized bed behind it on his knees to look out the window, down at the front door where a familiar green figure stood. "Zim! What's he doing here?"

"Agent Mothman, are you still talking to yourself out loud like that?"

"Uh, yeah." He cringed, then looked back over his shoulder at the floating monitor that displayed the dark outline of his one of his favorite long-time Eyeball contacts. "Look, Tunaghost, I gotta go. The alien is here."

"The 'alien', right. You mean the one you're dating?"

Dib's eyes narrowed slightly behind his glasses as he got back to his feet. "No. Like I said in the forum, I'm just pretending to date him."

"And you still haven't been able to collect any good data on this subject?"

"I'm … not sure." He shook his head. "I mean, I know he's an alien, but I don't really have hard, undeniable proof for the network yet." That and he wasn't sure he wanted to, at least if Zim was no longer a threat. The thought of turning him in now that he had been fired just felt a little to pathetic.

"So the situation is unchanged."

"I … guess you could say that."

"I did just say that, Mothman." Tunaghost tilted her head slightly to one side, away from the monitor, while one eye scrunched up smaller than the other.

Dib had always figured that gestured indicated a smirk, but it was hard to tell with the cloaking they used. "Right. So, I'll update the thread I started when my group and I decide on the location for our hunt on Halloween." The door bell rang again, followed by the sound of knocking. "I've really gotta go."

She nodded. "Very well. Good day, Mothman."

"Yeah, you too." He logged out of the Swollen Eyeball Network's private online database, then clicked off the video e-phone connection, which made the floating screen go black and raise itself into the compartment in the ceiling where it was usually stored. Then he ventured carefully out of his room, feeling lucky that the metal music coming from Gaz's room, which signified intense gaming, probably meant that she hadn't yet been enraged by the constant ringing below that he was headed toward. As he reached the door at the bottom of the stairs, he felt is stomach twist in unexpected nervousness.

Probably Zim was here because he needed to visit his base for something. That's what he usually came for now days, but there was always the possibility that he had come to announce a decision about whether or not he was still going to try to conquer the Earth, and Dib didn't know how to handle that. Of course, if Zim was still trying for the Earth, he would be stupid to announce that without first getting his technology back somehow. Since Zim was actually pretty stupid sometimes, that couldn't be ruled out, but it was less likely. That was the problem really. If Zim said that he wanted to leave and needed his base back, how could Dib know if he was telling the truth or not? And if he was, what then?

He forced himself to fling the door open with his usual abandon. "Zim! What are you doing here, Space-boy?"

Zim rolled his fake human eyes, his hands finding their way from the air, where they had been pounding on the door, to his hips. "I am here to engage you in that revolting and pathetic practice you humans call friendship."

"Jeez, it was just a question. You don't have to be sarcastic." He stepped back and opened the door wider so Zim could come in. "You need to go back up to the Moon Base?"

As he stepped inside, Zim lowered his hands to his sides and clenched his fists, telling himself that he was offended and angered by the Dib's dismissal. Those feelings were more acceptable than … other things that he was most certainly not experiencing right now. "Zim's words were not sarcastic. How dare you question them!"

"What? Are you serious? You … you want to engage me-"

"Psh. I knew it." Gaz snorted to herself as she walked passed them and into the kitchen. "If you two move to another planet, I'm taking over your room!"

"Wha?" Dib looked after her, momentarily confused before realizing where she had cut him off. "S-shut-up, Gaz!" He looked back to Zim. "So, you want to be friends? With me? Really? And it's not a trick?"

Eyes widening in horror, Zim took it upon his superior self to slam the front door shut in Keef's smiling, freckled face as he saw him approach from the side, then grabbed the Dib's wrist to drag him up the stairs and into his room before his scary Gaz-sibling decided to seek revenge or answer the door herself. He closed Dib's door as well before releasing him and staring him down impatiently. "You seem somehow more stupid than usual this lovely morning, Dib. But in answer to your poorly constructed question, yes."

No. This had to be a trick. Zim was trying to get his guard down so he could take back his base or even try to convince Dib to give it back to him! "But I thought that 'Invaders need no one'."

"Yes. That is a vital part of the Invader's Code, as we-they, have to spend years isolated from the Irken population, researching and conquering for the Empire. However, Zim is no longer an Invader. As you know, I am in the process of deciding what to do with my new promotional status, and now that I am no longer limited by the Invader's Code, I wish to try this … friendship that your people are so fond of."

"Wait." Dib wrapped one arm around his chest, resting his elbow on the lower fist and his chin on the resulting higher one. "When you say Invader's Code, do you mean like a code of agreement or like computer code?"

"Eh?"

"You know how humans sometimes agree to live by a set of principles, called a code? And how computers are programed with-"

"Yes! Zim is no imbecile! I am aware of your primitive human coding. You people recite some sort of statement, agreeing to function in certain parameters, then go off and do whatever you want instead. On Irk such behavior is not tolerated."

"Because it's computer code?"

"Pak code, Dib-thing."

"But that's not really the same, is it? I mean, you can't help but follow that code."

"Yes. The base code we receive as smeets functions as a type of secondary instincts." At least, that was true for most Irkens who weren't defective. One side of Zim's lips tightened into the beginning of a smirk. "Occupational programming is encoded when and if we attain our chosen jobs. So, we agree to it, then we are coded for it, and then we follow it."

"Because you have to, right?" Dib lowered his head slightly to gaze up at Zim with a suspicious look. "So, when you were … promoted … how did your Invader Code get deactivated if the Tallest didn't know where you were?"

"First, the code limits pathway development; it doesn't control it, so there is some room for differential growth. And, uh, second, the … the basic code contains programming that prompts us to release occupation coding when we are reassigned."

"So that's what you were doing with your pak after you saw the message from the Tallest?"

"Yep! That's it exactly."

"Zim, you even sound like you're lying when what you're saying makes sense." He shook his head.

"What, you don't believe the amazing truth of Zim?"

"Seriously? Of course I don't. I don't know if you're encoded as an invader or whatever anymore, but I do know I can't trust you. You just want your base back, but it's not gonna happen."

Emitting a low growl, Zim ripped his new 'emo' wig, which hid his lack of ears much better, from his head and tossed it onto the Dib's bed. "You want trust? Well, go ahead, take a picture of my true and glorious Zim-form!"

"You know as well as I do that I'll just be accused of Fotoshoping it like that time in eighth grade."

Zim stopped mid-poke, pulling his finger back from the contact that he was about to remove and flopping back to sit on Dib's bed beside his wig. "Fine! Don't be the friend of Zim. You're hardly worthy anyway, what with your massive head and its terrible lack of fluid absorbency. Just know that you'll be missing out on all of the friendly … chats that I came here to have about my home territory and how I do miss it so."

"You … you want to talk about your home planet?"

"Home territory, as I said. The planet is mainly for smeeting and control brains. But I'm sure you wouldn't be interested." Zim smiled widely as he stood back up. "Ah well! I'm sure Keef," he spat the name, "is still up for the position. And still so absorbent! Like a role of paper towels, that boy's head!"

"Wait!" Dib's body moved into Zim's path without so much as a conscious thought and his arm moved up to push him back into his former position on the bed. "I … I think we might be able to work something out. We could try to be friends, I guess, but don't think this means I'm giving you your base back or letting my guard down."

"Of course. You can't afford to let your guard get all droppy with someone of my outstanding ability around. Zim understands."

"Sure. Okay. So," Dib clasped his hands together as he took a seat on his computer chair, spinning it around to face Zim, "weren't you saying something a moment ago about needing to talk about Irken stuff?"

"I was, as a matter of fact." Now Zim smirked flat out, one of his lekki standing up though the other was still relaxed against the top of his head. Torque's advice about sharing the target's interests seemed to be working out quite well! Perhaps this whole 'friendship as a stepping stone' plan would pan out too! Once the Dib was his love-slave, he would give him back his technologies and follow him on whatever quest or conquest he decided to undertake. "But I didn't have anything specific in mind. Do you have any questions, Dib?"

Dib nodded vigorously, racking his brain for any of the thousands of questions that he generally asked himself late at night as he lay in bed going over all he knew, and had yet to learn, about Zim's race and other paranormal phenomenons. He had downloaded some files from Zim's Moon Base, which were invaluable, but sadly they consisted of straight up information without any explanations or context. As such, he had ended up with just as many questions as answers. "Oh, man! Okay, how about … uh, you know how I downloaded some files from your base? Well, with the diagrams for the pak … there are processors that breath in air and store carbon, hydrogen, oxygen and nitrogen, which are used to make amino acids to synthesize DNA. So, it seems like Irkens shouldn't need to eat, but you guys are obsessed with snacking. How come?"

"Well, Dib-worm, the answer to that is quite simple. The element binding process that you speak of is a passive system that works well for puny docile organisms like plants. For more mighty animals with faster metabolic demands, it is sufficient only to keep us alive in a near hibernation state. It works somewhat better for a 'cold-blooded' species such as Irkens than a 'warm-blooded' one like humans, but we still need more vitamins as well as more energy. Energy is easiest for us to digest in its most basic form of sugars and starches, which is why snacks are abundant in those things. So, all of that, plus snacks are just plain good."

"Humm. In extreme environments, you guys would need to conserve even more energy to fuel the paks that artificially elevate your body temperature. So, if you were really cold or hot and didn't have snacks, you'd go into hibernation?"

"Yes, once I ran out of stored energies, but that would take weeks or even months. And the pak would still act on its own in defense, so don't get any not so bright ideas, friend." He smiled viciously. "Plus, just because we prefer sugars and starches doesn't mean the pak can't handle proteins and fats if it has to."

"Proteins and fats …" His eyes widened. "Hey! I'm-"

"Oh, yes, that's right! You're made of proteins and fats, aren't you, Dib? And the President Man did say you were delicious that one time." Zim leaned forward with his hands on his knees. "I wonder if anyone would notice if you were, I dunno, missing some of those proteins."

"Yes! They totally would! You … you don't even … the Eyeballs would know! And Squee and Gaz would notice after a while. And the skool would report me to the police for truancy and they would find out."

"Yes, but you'd be alone. Secluded. With Zim and without sugars. Where no one could hear you scream."

"Gah!" Dib scooted his chair back toward his desk some. "Well, I'm not going to be in that situation, now am I?"

Zim shrugged. "Not unless you put yourself there."

"Why are you even creepier now that you're trying to be my friend than when you were trying to annihilate me down to my very last cell?"

"Maybe I like being creepy. Did you ever think of that? Creepy people get respect! And why are you still making plans to capture me?"

"I'm not!"

"You lie!" Zim suddenly backhanded the Dib across the face as white hot anger flared within his spooch, but this time it wasn't hard enough to knock him to the floor. Still, the red, three-fingered hand print left on white skin was satisfying enough for now. "If not then what was all that noise about how to get me into hibernation mode?"

Dib rubbed his cheek, glaring at Zim even though he felt a little ashamed now that he thought about the way he had asked that. "It was just curiosity. Besides, humans can't just flip a switch and turn on a friendship; that takes time. I'm still used to thinking about Irkens in terms of weaknesses and defense. It doesn't mean I'm planning anything."

"You'd better not be, Dib, because my revenge will be swift and squishy if I find out you are."

"Why … would it be squishy?" When Zim's eyes only narrowed more, he raised his hands in defense. "I'm not, okay?"

"Fine." Zim leaned back some.

"Fine," Dib mimicked, crossing his arms. The only sound in his room for the next few minutes was the low electric purr of his computer's inter-workings.

"Ask your next pathetic question already," Zim finally said.

"Uh, okay. There was this … instructional recording, I think, that I came across, and it … well, it was sort of confusing for me." When Zim only continued to stare at him, unimpressed, Dib swung his chair around to face his computer, browsing quickly through his files to find the right one. A part of him wanted to keep it to himself so that Zim wouldn't know he had ever seen it, but his curiosity was stronger, as usual. "Alright, this." He pressed play, and the monitor came back down from the ceiling to show the recording.

Zim's eyes bugged out for a second at what he saw on the screen. An Irken male and female each lay on their backs on a raised surface with soft padding that allowed their paks to sink easily into it so that they were level. Their heads faced opposite directions, their crotches faced each other's and their legs were tangled together. Because the camera was angled above them, you could still see what was happening pretty well, as per the educational intentions of the recording. As the two rubbed their cloacas together, hissing and humming out their pleasure, their squeedlyswirls emerged from the sticky, moist openings to intertwine together, wrapping around each other and caressing up and down. After several minutes of this, the swirls moved together into the male, pumping in and out before moving into the female, coated in jellies from her partner.

The swirl changed back and forth between them several times until Zim wanted to scream 'enough', but instead he crossed one leg over the other and attempted to look mature and condescending. Before his decoding a few weeks ago this wouldn't have bothered him so much. It would have been merely information that would hopefully turn out to be a waste of space in his pak. Still, the recording didn't last that much longer, and anyway, he could out wait the pitiful Dib-thing. Why, he was already turning pink again! It was a sweet payback for the human sex-ed that he had been forced to bear witness to.

Dib kept his eyes glued to the screen merely so he wouldn't have to face Zim while it played out. He felt his face starting to burn a little when the two Irkens scooted closer and closer until they were pressed together and you could just barely make out the organs between them moving at all. They rubbed against one another, seemingly trying to get closer, thought it wasn't possible, until both of their bodies spasmed and then went limp, leaving them in an awkward tangle of limbs that would have been highly uncomfortable for a human.

After that, Dib turned back to his computer, taking extra time to try to suppress his embarrassment before switching the program off and turning back to Zim. "Ahem," he cleared his throat, "so, yeah. That."

Zim raised a brow ridge. "Yes? 'That' is Irken mating. What about it?"

"Well, obviously, but, uh …. two things, actually. One: I thought Irkens didn't reproduce naturally."

"Preferably, we don't. That recording is … sort of a backup method. It is used so rarely that the technique isn't common knowledge. The visual image is less abstract than the definitional information that the pak has, so … eh, it's supposed to make the attempt more efficient because if it was to happen, it would be because it needs to happen, because of an accident or attack on the Smeetery." He looked away for a moment at that, flashes of the several planet-wide blackouts he had caused on Irk running from his pak and through his brain and reminding him that there were a few 'natural' born Irkens in the Empire as he spoke. In fact, it was likely that he was personally responsible for these recordings being so widely distributed. And he was probably still the only one impressed by that!

"Okay. But you still have the capacity, apparently."

"Wrong, feeble Dib-thing! Uh, I mean, we only have the capacity if the reproduction prohibiting hormonal control in the paks is deactivated. Otherwise, Irkens are infertile and largely asexual in desire."

"Oh. Wow, that's a lot of control. I guess that makes sense considering how fascist your government is."

"Yes, yes. Sexual desire and smeets born of such bonds could pose a threat to the Empire. It could also yield undesirable genetic results if it wasn't closely monitored, such as the freakish mutants and inferior specimens that can be seen on this ball of dirt."

"Right. So, secondly, Irken sex is weird."

"Eh? Weird? So hideous and weird is it? And you think that huymun sex is normal and not disgusting to us?"

"Uh, no. I don't mean the act of sex … although, yeah, not normal. That's not necessarily a bad thing, though. But what I mean is the … the male and female characteristics of Irkens. They don't really have that much in common with humans. According to the information on your files, the females have heterogeneous sex chromosomes like human males … the Irken symbols are E and F, I believe."

"Yes."

"Because they have the heterogeneous chromosomes, the females determine the sex of the offspring. Maleness is determined by a hormonal dose system, sort of like in birds. The E chromosome carries one dose of the male hormone, so one dose is female and two is male. And the equivalent of mitochondrial DNA is passed down by the males and deactivated in females."

"Yeah, yeah. Zim knows all this. Get to the point."

"The point is that everything I just said is the opposite in humans. The only thing that's the same is that both Irken and human females carry babies. Except Irkens lay those jelly egg things."

"I don't see what you're confused about. All of that is accurate to the extent that your human brain can probably understand it."

"Yeah, but … on Earth sometimes the males carry the offspring, like with Seahorses. And sometimes neither sex carries it, like with most fish and frogs. So, if carrying babies isn't what defines femaleness, then wouldn't it make more sense to reverse the Irken sexes and say that Irken males carry offspring?"

"No. No, it wouldn't."

"On, come off it, Zim. What else is there? Besides what I said before, there aren't any other sex differences between Irken males and females. You have the same sexual parts … which I'm still confused about, the same basic kind of jelly that mixes genetic stuff together, very similar internal sex organs. And don't give me the eyebrow and antenna thing because we both know those are superficial secondary sex characteristics. It's like human facial hair and breasts."

Zim's face scrunched up at the thought and both his lekki lowered a few centimeters. "It is nothing like those disgusting things! Nothing! Although, secondary, yes; its only role in reproduction is a signal to help males and females recognize each other through sexual desire. But unlike your human thingies, it's not disgusting."

"Whatever. So why are you male?"

"Dib-thing, if you so much as emit a sound bite of this at skool-"

"No. Don't worry. This has nothing to do with those rumors at skool, which I didn't start by the way. I always figured you completely lacked sex organs until this year, so if it was me, they would have called you a eunuch instead of a girl."

"How very comforting."

Dib shrugged. "It wouldn't have drawn Chunk's attention. At least not sexually."

"Chunk." His eyes narrowed once again. "One laser cannon, Dib. That's all I ask."

"I'll think about supervised use, but you have to answer the question."

"Eh? What question?"

Dib sighed, though he was used to the absent-mindedness by now. "Why are you male?"

A slow grin crept onto Zim's face. "I'm not."

"What? Really? You're admitting it, just like that?"

"Sure, what does Zim care about your stupid human social conventions? Nothing, that's what! So there! Take that, lowly human norms! Though I may bow politely to you in front of dull human gazes, remember that I, Zim, will always be above you!"

"Nice outburst, Zim. You sure showed that abstract comment who's boss." Dib shook his head yet again.

"Why, thank you."

"Right. Then why did you pretend to be male all these years? Just because less guys would try to get with you sexually?"

"Nah. I didn't really worry about that at first. I didn't plan to be here this long. It was basically just another way to be normal since humans like to present themselves as coming in only two flavors of sex." He rolled his eyes at Dib's confused look. "I'm not female either, or even both or in-between like some humans. So, even though I'm sure you would like to believe that I'm female to offer yourself some small human comfort in terms your revolting lurve for Zim, it is not so. You might as well release that thought from your huge head now."

"Oh. So … that's very … wow." Dib ran a hand through his hair. Even though he was used to the paranormal, it was still a little amazing and strange sometimes when things just straight up refused known classification … especially when you considered that classification was probably the cornerstone of human thought. "And, uh, I don't love you either way. And my head's not big."

"Poor little Dib, so afraid to admit defeat." Zim shook his head slowly back and forth. "You humans, you know so very little about the universe, yet assume so much. Most highly developed races have two sexes, about sixty to seventy percent, because it's optimal for genetic mixing. However, the two sexes aren't just alike for most of us unless we're related somehow, like Irkens, Vortians and Orkiens. While we have two sexes, they are not male and female in the human sense.

I choose to be male on Earth because it seemed like a better translation of my sex than female based on the language of your people. On Earth, males are the power majority in most cultures and their pronouns are more abundant in writing. On Irk, my sex is the numerical majority, and our pronouns are also more abundant."

"Whoa. Hold on. That's … I don't know where to start. You choose your sex based on pronouns? That seems … kind of stupid. And there are less Irken females? And Irkens are related to Orkeins?"

"No, Dib-worm, not on pronouns, but on the status those pronouns represent. Irken 'females' aren't discriminated against like human females tend to be, but there are very few of them. They make up about two percent of the population."

"Oh, let me guess. It's another method of population control by the Empire, right?"

"You know, you really aren't quite that stupid, despite what people say."

"What? What do people say?"

"Oh, nothing. But, yes, it is a method of population control, but a more sophisticated one than the pak controls. You see, Irken females are a product of genetic recombination, while males like myself are a product of cloning. The recombination usually still takes place in the smeetery, of course, and only the superior female embryos are chosen to grow to decanting."

"Uh, if you're all clones, then how can your society be based on height? Wouldn't you all be the same height?"

"There are several lines of clones in each generation to ensure that there will be the correct number of Irkens in each social rung. Also, other things besides genetics affect Irken growth: snack intake, atmospheric composition, gravity, amount of time spent in hibernation or stasis… and in my case sheer mightiness."

"Ah. So did you spend like a whole century in stasis or something?" Dib flinched when Zim raised his hand as if to smack him again. "Just so you know, hitting isn't considered friendly behavior on Earth."

"Oh, I'm sorry, friendliest buddy. My mistake." Zim spoke in his usual fake reassuring voice with a large smile before letting his voice and face drop back to normal. "And I have spent a fair amount of time in stasis pods because of my … propensity to get … assigned dangerous missions. I've been in a lot of explosions."

"Somehow that's not surprising."

"Anyway! As I was saying, the females are not clones, and they provide a continual supply of genetic diversity that is available during what you call natural mating and to the control brains who occasionally modify genes in lines of clones. Because they are not clones, they are more prone to uniqueness and are more variable than males in height, intelligence, physical fitness and other areas. For example, while they are only two percent of the population, they make up roughly twelve percent of Tallest and Tallers in Irken society. Of course, with uniqueness, they run a greater risk of defectiveness, but some level of nonconformity is more tolerated for females because they are so few and because that risk is the accepted pay for keeping such useful genetic diversity."

"But if they're just two percent of the population, that's not a lot of offspring if the, uh, smeet factory thing is down, unless … how many eggs to Irken females lay? And what is defectiveness? Like insanity?"

"Eh. Defectiveness is just … just extra uniqueness that breaks past the limits of the basic coded pathway parameters; kind of like how people call you insane for your belief in that ... para-science stuff you believe."

"Para-science stuff I believe? You mean like how I believe you're an alien? And you don't?" He reflected for a second. "But, hey, you called it para-science instead of 'crazy parachuting nonsense'! So, I guess that's an improvement."

"Yess, such an improvement," Zim muttered lowly. "I have, uh, come to find some elements of it to be interesting actually. And don't forget: from Zim's perspective, you're the alien … the furry, stinky, pig-like alien!"

"Hey! Humans are not pig-like! And anyway, you never answered my question: how many eggs?"

"Errr. It varies, I think. Usually between one and seven, depending on how much jelly was shared and the size of the mother's pooch. The small number of females isn't really a problem since when the smeetery goes down for a while, some of the males are feminized."

"... Feminized? You mean they can get pregnant?"

"If the pak represses one of the E chromosomes, then they only have one dose, so the male hormones fall below the female ones and the males start making those kinds of sex cells. When feminized males mate with other cloned males, their offspring are less genetically diverse than the offspring of true females, but it keeps the soldiers well stocked."

"Wow, so you could get pregnant?"

"Eww! No! Zim is … Zim is not going to bloat his perfect Zim-belly with congealing globs of forming smeets!"

"But you could … that's disturbing."

"No! I couldn't! I am male and I will stay that way! No more talking!"

"Aw. But, Zim, this is-"

"No! I said no more! We will speak of something else! I … Zim would like to go on your Halloweenie hunt! Therefore, you shall invite me and you shall feel honored. Invite me now." His voice dropped lower on the last word, as if he was savoring the way it tasted leaving his mouth.

"This better not be some kind of plan to use the paranormal to take over the Earth."

"Noo! Don't be silly." Zim swiped at the air in between them.

"How about you don't be silly, Zim?"

"Eh? Zim, silly? Don't be sil-er … don't be ridiculous. Zim would never be such a thing as silly."

"Uh-huh. Call it whatever you want, but you do it. A lot." He smirked. "It's probably why you've been in so many explosions, and I don't want my ghost hunt to end that way."

"Fool! You know nothing about why Zim explodes."

"Ha! Yeah, I do. You've taken me with you enough times over the years, and it's because you act without thinking." Actually, though Zim could still get pretty maniacal, he definitely seemed be becoming a little more stable and intelligible. It had started last year a short time before Dib had spied Zim sleeping, actually sleeping, despite the claim that Irkens didn't need to sleep. Now he seemed even more calm and collected since the Tallest had fired him, which could either be related to his sleeping more because of depression and a lack of things to do or to his supposedly loosing his Invader code ... or even something to do with the new body. Still, Zim was more than capable of ruining a paranormal investigation or anything else that he got too excited about.

"Your gigantic head is inflated with filthy lies, Dib-beast, like a hot-lie-balloon! It's why the teaching drones always say your head is in the clouds! But, fine. Zim will follow your para-rules on this mission ... within reason."

Just as he was about to question what Zim could possibly know about reason, there was a knock on his bedroom door and then it opened to reveal Squee, Pepito and Keef, the last of whom was speaking at the other two with his characteristic speed and enthusiasm that nearly ran together as it entered Dib's ears. Behind them, Gretchen leaned silently against the hall wall, where she raised a hand to give him an annoyingly shy wave. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zim pull his wig back on, then he swung his own hand through the air, palm out, in a quick greeting before pulling Squee inside. If he didn't he knew that he would stay where he was until Keef shut up in a misguided attempt to be nice.

"So, for the Carnival's Halloween celebration, I'm dressing up as an evil clown! And we're getting some spooky bands like Animal Underscore, Beast's Accent and Crete Feetz to play! It's going to be so much fun! You guys should come and check it-"

"Sorry, Keef, no time to talk," Dib interrupted as Pepito walked in, "We have a meeting right now." As soon as they were both inside he closed the door again, locking it this time as well. Hopefully Gaz would get over her popularity designs soon and leave Keef where he belonged, which was far, far away. "So, what's up?" he asked Squee.

"Umm, well, we have a little more information about the Veelorb thing, and we kind of need your help."

"Of course. As the Earth's defender, I'm always ready to help, you know, defend it. As long as it doesn't involve going with Keef to the carnival."

"Thanks." Todd let the backpack that he was wearing fall off his shoulder, then started rummaging inside. "You know how Shmee attacked my neighbor that time?"

"Yeah."

"And you know how my neighbor is crazy? Well, there was another Veelorb masquerading as a magical baby beaver that he thought was a head-voice. He broke into Brian's house because ... because he's all crazy and stuff, and I knocked him out. The beaver was there, so I chased it out into the street, and it ... well, it sorta purposefully jumped in front of a truck on the road to kill itself. And then I found this." He pulled out a small glass container with a flat, black top out of the bag. It was filled two-thirds of the way with a clear liquid, and at the bottom there was a small white thing that looked to be about half the size of a marble. It was too smooth and too perfectly round to be bone, but the color was right ... or would have been had the thing not be cracked and shattered. It was nearly in two separate pieces, and tiny parts could be seen inside and littering the liquid around it that looked mechanical. It had actually been recovered by a minion of Satan that had chased the beaver down a few blocks away from the hospital, but he couldn't tell Dib that.

Dib took the glass container cautiously. "So, the Veelorb can possess animals as well as people? And what is this exactly?"

"My father had the leftover parts from the beaver's body tested at one of the medical research labs he has a business contract with," Pepito said, "The report said that the body was that of a living Earth beaver, but it was a Chimera. It's brain cells were roughly sixty percent human, meaning that it was grown and engineered in a lab. It also had this implant attached to its spinal cord."

Todd nodded. "We think since it was attached to the spinal cord that the Veelorb used it to control the beaver directly instead of using it like a regular host. And we're also sort of hoping that maybe this is what Bitter's people use to keep them contained in an object, since Waffles … well, it seemed like he needed to destroy it to get away from me, like he didn't want me to catch and question him."

"Waffles?"

"That's what Johnny said it was called."

"Humm." Rubbing his chin contemplatively, Dib held the container up in front of his glasses to get a better look. "That sounds like a good theory to test."

"We were hoping that maybe you and Zim could look at it in his base. And maybe if it's what we think it is," Todd looked to Zim, who was more likely to have the answer, "do you think you could make a new one?"

Snatching the jar away from Dib to analyze it with his with his own amazing, and implant enhanced, eyes, Zim nodded. "It's likely. The individual technologies that are merged together in this device aren't that complex. And with this I should be able to find the perfect frequency to hold a Veelorb."

"Good job, Squee!" Dib clasped a hand on his shoulder. "Now we'll have our first real defense against Shmee's species. And now we know for sure that Bitters and Shmee aren't the only ones on Earth. This is a good start. A not so great situation, but a good start."

"Yeah. Thanks." Todd zipped his backpack back up. "If you get it to work, can you set one aside for me?"

Zim raised a brow ridge. "Are we trying to trap the Shmee-monster again?"

"Uh, yeah, kind of. If we can get him out of Leon."

"When do you need it by?"

"Before Fall Break if you can manage it."

"That should be doable since the brain of Zim is made of sheer genius. You may tell the victim child that he will be alone in his puny body again soon enough!"

One of Todd's eyes narrowed slightly. "I thought I told you not to call him that. And he doesn't know yet, so don't say anything."

"Wait," Dib said, "how are you gonna get him out? You don't really know anything about the paranormal," he looked specifically at Pepito, "do you?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business."

"Why?" Dib took a step closer. "Got something to hide?"

"No. Do you have a valid reason to pry?"

"Maybe."

"You won't know until you do, right?" Pepito rolled his eyes. "If you must know, I know a little. My grandmother, however, knows quite a bit. She's a curandera and an kollege lecturer on comparative magic around the world. She'd got experience in soul recovery and energy work. Over the break she's going to be at one of my family's vacation homes, and she said she'd take a look at Leon." He shrugged. "It might not work, but it'd still be nice to be able to detain Shmee if it does."

"You know this could be pretty dangerous, right? Shmee's not exactly like a human soul."

"I know. I just said it might not work. My grandmother knows enough to stop when it's too dangerous. Besides, for all we know, it could be even more of a risk over time to leave him where he is."

"True, but I still think you need someone else who's qualified to be there for backup. Someone with experience with aliens."

"Someone like you?"

"Exactly."

"Sorry. Not going to happen. I would be in trouble already if my grandmother knew I was telling you she actually does serious magic work. It could make her lose credibility in some academic circles, which her job depends upon, so we're supposed to keep it low key."

Dib frowned. "But that's exactly the problem! Keeping it secret is just going to reinforce the taboo against the paranormal in mainstream academia. It shouldn't be something you can only come out about if you fail in more respected fields. That just makes us look like a bunch of hacks and losers."

"Hm. Yeah. Maybe I'll mention that to her, but Todd and I have to be going now." Pepito forced a small smile. "Thanks for your help."

"You don't wanna go with us to the Moon Base?" Dib asked.

"Uh, we really can't. We've got tickets for this play that's not going to be showing much longer." Todd rubbed the back of his neck as he slid his backpack back on and decided not to mention that they were taking Señor Diablo's personal jet to New York to see it ... or that it was going to be their first date together. He knew it was more than a little too much, but Pepito had insisted that he wanted it to be something that Todd would remember forever for a nontraumatic reason. So, his first date was also going to be his first plane ride, which was only slightly scary after the spaceships he'd been in, and his first trip to New York. And he was going to meet one set of Pepito's grandparents who still lived there, which did make him nervous.

"Alright." Dib shrugged. "Well, have fun and all."

"We will. See ya on Monday. And thanks." Todd flashed him a grin on the way out of his room.

"No problem." Dib looked down at the container that he was still holding. "Well, what'd ya wanna do now, friend?"

"To the Moon Base!" Zim pointed up toward space, then withered slightly at the thought of trying to get the Gaz-beast to drive them when she was busy. "Uh, you finished modifying that escape pod to take us back up, right?"

"Yeah. Hey, maybe I can download some more files." Dib smiled at Zim's pained look. Maybe being friends with him wouldn't be so bad. Even if it was a trick, it was working out pretty sweetly for him.

END CHAPTER!

Notes:

-When I call Irkens “cold-blooded” I am just referring to their innate (pakless) body temperature regulation/respiration efficiency- not necessary their hearts having two chambers and other traits common to Earth-based cold-blooded animals. Since they're aliens, they're probably not going to fit very well into any Earth-based category. The reason I think they're probably cold-blooded without paks is because of: 1. Their reptile and insect like aspects, 2. their resting posture reminds me of my lizards- the way they just leave their body parts (especially hands) in awkward positions without being bothered by it could be related to same kind of energy conservation often found in reptiles-they move less than mammals and their metabolism is slower.

-Most of the info about Ikrens is my own interpretation (one of the fun things about IZ is that everyone has their own). Here's an interesting book (that partly inspired my interpretation) on Xenology that's mostly online: http://www.bibliotecapleyades.net/vida_alien/xenology/contents.htm#CONTENTS

-In case you're confused, Zim is lying about the Basic Code telling him to change his own Invader Code because he was actually still coded as a Food Service drone the whole time he was on Earth, but he's embarrassed. He also doesn't want to admit to being a defective, so he's pretending that he's not a freak because he can change is own code.

-Example of lab-made Chimeras: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/12/12/AR2005121201388.html

-A curandero (or curandera for a female) is a traditional folk healer or shaman in Hispanic America, who is dedicated to curing physical or spiritual illnesses. Wiki: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Curanderismo

-Animal Underscore, Beast's Accent and Crete Feetz are all lame attempts to come up with a name for an AU (SubAwake) Creature Feature, so all their music is a little bit in that vein.