Ayam

Captured

"Hey spaceboy, I may not be up-to-date on Irken technology, but isn't it usually bad if red lights are flashing?"

Zim's head snapped up. He'd been so busy with GIR, he hadn't been paying attention. Scrambling for the controls, he checked the screens. "Yes, it's bad. But everything's functioning perfectly well..." His eyes narrowed as he scanned the information. "Oh flirk..."

"What?" Dib asked nervously.

"We're being hailed by a patrol unit with the authority of the Tallests."

"I'm guessing that's bad."

"Given that they hoped I was dead? Yes." Grabbing Dib, he yanked him into the control seat.

"What are you doing?" Dib yelped. "I don't know how to fly this thing!"

"Figure it out!" Zim snapped. "I have to finish with GIR!"

"Finish—"

"Just fly!"

"Alright!"

Zim bent over GIR and continued with his task, new urgency fueling his motions. He held the information module to the inside of GIR's head as he welded it in place. The ship jerked to the side, and Zim's spiderlegs shot out to keep him in place. He couldn't afford to damage the module. It contained a basic summary of most of the Records, as well as the closest they could get to a translation of the portions known as John and Romans. These, Dib had insisted, would help the most. Finishing the final seam, Zim hurriedly piled in all the garbage he'd removed from GIR's head. It would help mask the module.

He hadn't understood why Ayam had told him to hide the Records in GIR's head, but then he hadn't known they would be chased by the Tallests' patrols. If they were caught... Grimly he turned GIR back on.

"Master! It all went dark and I talked with the squirrels."

"Very nice GIR, now listen to Zim."

"CHEEEEEESE!"

"GIR! This is very important! You carry in your head a secret message. Keep it safe, do you understand?"

"Keep tacos safe. Yes Master!"

Zim paused, then leaned over and patted the SIR's head. "You've been a good minion, GIR."

GIR beamed at his master's praise. "I done good!"

Zim nodded, then picked up the SIR and walked over to the airlock. "Remember, GIR, keep the message safe. Now, go as far away as you can. This is tag, okay? Zim is it. Now, run!"

Placing GIR in the airlock, he sealed the interior portion and opened the exterior. The robot burst out, streaming through space like a shooting star, giggling his head off. Zim could barely hear him screeching, "Master's iiiiiiiiiiiiit..." as he disappeared into space.

Quietly, he murmured, "Goodbye, GIR."

"Zim! Get up here already!" Dib's panicked voice cut through Zim's thoughts. The Irken rushed back to the helm. Dib pointed at a screen where a message flashed in Irken characters. "What does that mean?"

Zim read it with a sinking heart. "It says that if we do not turn around and follow the patrol ships, we will be shot down."

"Well, can we outrun them?"

Zim glanced at the screens all around. "No. They're too close, and there are three of them."

"Can't we blast 'em?"

"No, what part of there are three of them did you not hear? If we shoot down one, the other two will get us for sure." Zim stared at the message, a sort of coldness growing in his squeedly spooch. "I barely got to tell anyone..."