The Future Past's Present
part seven"Irk?" Dib's hand grazed over the smooth screen's surface. "Your home world?"
Zim nodded. "I've never been there, but it is where Irkins began their evolutionary climb. We're colonizers. I grew up on Exsplodia, planet of things that go boom."
Dib pursed his lips together, trying not to laugh. "Oh..." Irk didn't look that much different from earth, besides the coloring and the massive ships surrounding it and the lack of moons. Okay so the only similarity was that they were both round. But it didn't look very intimidating. "Is that your armada orbiting over the planet?"
"No." Zim angled his head upwards. "Computer, show me the armada."
Without delay the screen came to life with thousands of ships, spanning the entire screen that enveloped them in the circular room. Dib gasped and stepped back, forgetting that he was on a hovering platform. Zim quickly wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him back up, steadying him as the initial shock passed.
If they come here, we're doomed, Dib realized. He'd never thought the armada would be so big. A hundred ships, maybe as many as two, but never this. He was even sure the light dots in the background weren't stars but more ships at a great distance.
"You've...been working on this? Bringing the armada here?"
Zim shook his head. "No. I was planning on showing you it."
"Why?"
"Because for the past six years, I've been studying your planet and using that information to combat you. You, on the other hand, have only been able to defeat me using your knowledge of me. It may prove more...even a battlefield if we both had equal means of acquiring data on the other." He pushed back from Dib, gesturing with both arms. "This lab will now answer to your voice pattern as well as mine and Gir's. You may use it whenever you like. Just ask and the computer will show you."
Dib looked around hesitantly. "Just tell it what to do, huh?"
"Exactly."
"Alright. Computer...show me...Mars," Dib requested. The screen buzzed to life with a vision of the runaway planet on a course to nowhere. "Hey look! It worked!"
Zim nodded. "Simple, yes?"
"Yeah."
"Worth breaking into my house to see?"
"Definitely." Dib turned slowly, a solemn look on his face. "Is this your way of telling me you can't do anything for me?"
Zim sputtered, "No...I...I'm still working very hard on it..." He swung the hovering platform back to the entrance, then stepped off. "I've had lots of important things to do."
"I know! I know! You've always got something important to do." Dib stalked off the hover thing and past Zim. "Listen, thanks, but I've got homework to do. Just tell me when I'm important, okay?"
Zim watched him leave, unable to keep his eyes from admiring how well the skintight black spy gear fit the lean body. His heart sank as he disappeared from the labs.
"Awww...how come you don't help Dib?" Gir asked, snuggling up to Zim.
"It's not like I haven't tried!" Zim said, flailing his arms. "You wouldn't believe how hard I'm trying! Every moment I'm not with him, I'm thinking about it or working on it. I don't understand how it can be! It's definitely Irkin technology, but it's so much more advanced than anything I've seen!" He slammed his fist down on something hard. "I don't understand! Sixteen year old technology isn't supposed to boggle my mind!"
"Maybe it's not old," Gir said helpfully. "Maybe it's neeeewww."
"Impossible, Gir! It happened in the past!"
"I like playing with time!" Gir said, dancing around. He picked up a rubber piggy from inside his head. "Remember when we built that thing and put the piggies in it to destroy Dib in the past? I miss those piggies. I miss um baaad."
"You stupid, stupid..." Zim's eyes glazed over, an upsetting thought making his head cave in. "Computer, check subject Dib's DNA viral code for any signature. Equip scan for coding and imaging files at microscopic levels!"
Gir gave a shout of excitement; he loved it when his master played with the computer!
Zim strolled evenly to his chair, sitting on its edge while data streamed across like racing moose. His advanced eyes followed each pattern that scrolled, hoping to catch anything the computer missed. The data stopped mid-frame, a magnified division being brought up in a new window.
"Identification configured. Signature traces found in alternating decimals."
"Visual."
Assorted patterns of red and green were splotched together in the new copulation. Zim sighed. Another dead end.
"Yeah! Let's watch Scary Monkey!" the robot shouted, perched on Zim's head.
"Not now Gir. I have-"
"What's that?"
"It's-"
"What is it?!"
"It's-"
"I know what that is!" Gir sat up, pointing his metallic finger at the screen. "It's you!"
Zim rolled his eyes. "Get off my head, GIR."
"Lookie!" Gir leapt off his master's head and hugged the computer screen. "See?" He took a marker of his head and began writing on the equipment.
"Gir! Stop that immediately!"
"I'm making a pretty picture!!!!!!!" Gir said shrilly.
"Enough, Gir! I'm working here!"
"Done!" Gir jumped off the console and onto the floor, walking away while humming a little song he'd just made up.
Zim shook his head. "Stupid piece of useless junk. I'll tell you what the G stands for, Gir: GARBAGE!" He looked up, not at all happy with the black marker mess his Sir unit had left for him to clean. "It's supposed to be my slave, not the other way around!" He stood up, taking the end of his shirt and trying to wipe it away. As he looked up, he saw his reflection in the screen, perfectly outlined in Gir's black marker. "What?"
Zim took a step back, then another, then another. Before he knew it, he was half way across the room, looking at the computer screen. The green dots formed a flawless face, the red ones giant eyes. It was Zim's own face, just as Gir had said. "But...how can this be...?! Computer, run detailed schematic of my face, the face in this picture and all archived Irkin Invader's faces in action eighteen years ago!"
"Possessing. PROCESSING!" There was ding as if a microwave had just gone off. "Analysis complete. Compatibility of picture and subject Zim's face: 100%. Second match, 20%: Invader Flem. Third, 17%: Invader-"
Zim fell to the floor, holding his head while inaudible phrases fell from his lips.
**
Dib crawled back into his house through his bedroom window. It wasn't like anyone cared that he had snuck out nor was it likely anyone had even noticed he was missing. Something about being dressed like a surveillance ninja really demanded that kind of entrance, though. He hit the floor quietly with a roll, deciding to play the part out to it's fullest. He missed playing the sneaky undercover Swollen Eyeball member, agent Mothman. He still was in name, but it had never felt the same since he had agreed to try the whole friendship thing with Zim. It wasn't sneaking in if more than likely the door was open for you to walk in anyway. And with Zim not planning anything for weeks, he began to feel neglected. Not that Zim wasn't making it up in other ways, but still, the rivalry was dwindling.
And so was time.
Dib cursed himself for being so rude. Zim had probably gone through a lot of trouble to get the computer to recognize his voice pattern. If he put so much time into trivial things like that though, why couldn't he hurry up and find the cure Dib wanted desperately? This was the first ray of hope he'd had all his life and Zim kept stepping in the way and casting a shadow over him yet again.
A shiver passed through his body. He had left the window open. The skintight clothing wasn't a very good insulator. He shivered again. And again. But it wasn't shivers; he didn't even feel cold. It was pain, blinding and white hot. He tried to scream, tried to crawl to the bedroom door. The world was engulfed in darkness before he even thought to panic.