The Fallen Invader

Chapter 11: Science Con

"Your head also functions as a storage compartment? Interesting."

"I got a puppy in my head!"

Dad watched intently as GIR pulled a live puppy out of his head. Meanwhile, Gaz and I were holding Zim back with all our strength as he threatened to claw our father's eyes out.

"Gaz, this is your most impressive invention yet! Why, I think this means it's time for you to join me at Membrane Labs! I was going to wait until you finished hi skool, but clearly you have a brilliant mind! In fact, why don't you showcase your invention at next week's Science Con?"

Membrane Labs hosts a yearly convention for scientists to show off the projects they've been working on. Gaz and I have been going since we were kids. It was mostly just us walking around unsupervised and looking at stuff, since Dad was always way too busy to actually spend time with us, but they were kind of cool, I guess.

Letting Gaz show off GIR at Science Con was a horrible idea doomed to backfire, but unfortunately, there wasn't much we could do about it. We couldn't tell Dad the truth, and he wouldn't take no for an answer, given how impressed he was with GIR. The most we could do was be prepared for anything.

After Dad left, it was time to get down to business.

"Alright, GIR. You're going to be showcased at Science Con, so you'd better behave yourself and not do anything that could compromise our identities! Do you understand me?" Zim ordered.

"Ehhhh... What you say?" GIR asked mindlessly.

"GIR, if you do what we tell you to do, we'll give you tacos." I added.

The robot immediately perked up at the mention of tacos and started rapidly nodding his head.

"As for you, Dib-sister, I highly recommend you spend this week studying GIR. He can be highly unpredictable, and since you aren't actually the one who built him, you should at least know the basics of his programming if we're going to keep up this ruse."

I smirked. "Do you even know the basics of his programming? I mean, he's supposed to be your loyal servant, but he never listens to you."

"SILENCE!!!"

So, for the entire week, Zim left GIR at our house so Gaz could "study" him. Really, it was more like babysitting, and I was doing most of the work because she couldn't be bothered to watch him.

The day of the convention, we gave Gaz an earpiece so she could hear us offstage, reading off of the script Zim wrote out explaining how GIR works. All she would have to do is repeat everything I say.

Zim offered to read the script himself, but he doesn't have an inside voice.

We took our place at the back corner of the auditorium, walkie-talkie and script at the ready. Dad took the stage first.

"Welcome, everyone, to this year's Science Con! Our first presentation is of an invention created by my one and only daughter! And now, making her scientific debut, give it up for Gazlene Membrane!"

"Who is this 'Gazlene?'" Zim asked, making air quotes. Man, he's dumb.

"That's Gaz's full name, now quiet!" I snapped.

My sister and Zim's stupid robot took the stage. There was no turning back. I took the script and started to read.

"Greetings, filthies, I am Gaz, and this is my robot, GIR."

I briefly scanned the rest of the script, then glared at Zim. "Couldn't you have at least written it to sound like Gaz?"

"Zim only writes for ZIM! Anyway, it's fine, just keep going!"

"Though he doesn't look like much, GIR is far more advanced than your puny human brains can comprehend. One of GIR's most basic functions is the ability to eat disgusting Earth food. He also eats things that aren't food. The purpose of this function is to determine whether or not something is poisonous, so he can test foods for his master to prevent death. Now, watch him eat chocolate."

After repeating everything, Gaz pulled a still-wrapped chocolate bar out of her pocket.

"CHOCOLATE!"

And then GIR ate said still-wrapped chocolate bar. The audience of scientists nodded to each other and jotted down notes. Surprisingly, things were actually running smoothly.

"GIR is also outfitted with rocket boosters, allowing himself to fly, and also be used as a vehicle. He has enhanced strength, and can easily carry a small human."

GIR then proceeded to lift Gaz, and I could feel her cold glare on me from across the auditorium.

"Most importantly, GIR is armed with a large variety of deadly weapons to ensure protection from enemies. GIR, go attack a random civilian."

At that point I ditched the script and I had Zim by the shirt collar.

"WHAT THE HECK???" I screamed as quietly as possible.

"What? GIR never listens to me, anyway." Zim replied with a shrug.

The thing is, GIR didn't hear the order from Zim. He heard it from Gaz. And when Gaz tells you to do something... you do it.

An audible scream broke through the crowd as blasts of lasers burst of of GIR's head. Zim snickered to himself.

"I don't see what's so funny about this." I stated.

"Gaz seems to think it is!"

When I turned my attention back to the stage, I could see that she was struggling to hold back her own laughter.

"Knock it off, both of you!" I shouted into the walkie-talkie.

After composing himself, Zim took the walkie from me.

"Alright, that's enough, Gaz. You can call him off now."

Following her instruction, the little robot finally stopped terrorizing the man in the front row, and he returned to the stage. They both stood there awkwardly staring at everyone for a few seconds, then walked off. Dad took the stage afterwards.

"That was a fantastic presentation, daughter! She has quite the sense of humor! Now, moving along to our next presenter..."

We met up with Gaz and GIR over by the snack table.

"Well, that could've gone worse, I guess."

"Dad seems satisfied. You can have your robot back now." Gaz added.

GIR wrapped his master in a tight squeeze. Zim pretended to look annoyed, but I could tell he secretly missed him.

Oddly enough, there were no hard feelings from the other scientists. They were used to Dad doing extreme things in the name of science. The man GIR attacked even thanked Gaz for allowing him to be a part of the demonstration. Scientists are a strange type, but so was my sister. She'd fit right in.