A Parade of Indignities

Chapter 4: Of Zim's Oblivion and Migraine Headaches

Paralyzed with shock, Dib's breath faltered until his lungs burned with the lack of oxygen. He felt detached from reality. Then, as soon as his body could force him to gulp down an immense breath of air, more came with a vengeance. Quickly, he began to hyperventilate.

A million different thoughts coursed furiously through his mind.

They're going to kill him. Right this very moment, his life is in danger. I have to do something!

He stood up hastily from his desk, knocking over his chair as he did so. The ensuing headrush caused his brain to whirl with blood and his vision to blur for a moment.

As it cleared, he glanced helplessly around him at his various gadgets and gizmos, trying to figure out what to do. Then, a singular question sprang into his mind, elbowing its way through the sea of panic.

Why should I do anything? Without him, the Earth is finally safe.

He paused. Slowly, he picked up his desk chair and lowered his shaking body into the seat once more.

The flurry of information that had been thrown at him was still gradually seeping into his mind.

What did they mean when they said he was a "defective"? And about his mission being a joke? He was in exile?

Dib unconsciously pulled at his hair as a familiar wave of pity and confusion washed over him, the very same as the twinge he felt after listening to Zim's "evaluation" only hours prior.

Like before, he immediately tried to shut down his own warped train of thought. This time, though, he felt his typical apathy waver in favor of something he could not place. Perhaps the deep-rooted duty to act, not out of fondness or alliance, but merely as a human being with morals and weaknesses and things Zim could never comprehend but needed direly right now.

He began to break out into a sweat as his amber eyes flicked about his desk yet again.

What could I do?

Dib launched into deep, calculated thought amid the pounding in his brain, nervously allowing his gaze to fall on the countless apparatuses littered on his desk. They were of both human and Irken origin, little treasures he had stolen from Zim that had gradually accumulated over the years until he had garnered his own collection of broken plasma blasters, locaters, and ambiguous remote controls. They lay strewn across the desk, disassembled almost savagely in his haste to study them.

He had taken them apart in vain, trying to learn more about Irken equipment. More often than not, though, a majority of his knowledge had come from working on Tak's ship over the years in the hopes to explore more of the paranormal.

Tak's ship...

Something suddenly gnawed at the back of his mind and in his maelstrom of excitement, he remembered a snippet from his past, not so very long ago. Back when the two had fought for control over the Massive and immediately after Zim had discovered the spy bug Dib had planted in his base.

Zim, even in the face of conflict, was smug as ever. Fire had gleamed in his eyes and the words poured from his mouth with that ever-present smugness. "Computer! Lock onto Dib's transmission signal and transmit a little signal of our own!"

Dib recalled his own voice, laced with dread. "What are you doing, Zim?"

"That's Irken technology you're sitting in, Dib! I'm just reminding it is all..."

Dib's head snapped up.

He could use the ship to send Zim a transmission! He could warn him!

Allowing his disarrayed motives to progress no further into doubt, Dib bolted from his desk and burst out into the night.