A Simple Guide to Overthrowing an Empire

Ask Stupid Questions, Get Stupid Answers

Dib took the opportunity to flesh out his plan. Step 2 could be moved forward, but the potential for a lethal shock without the proper context couldn't be overstated enough. There was a knock at the door. Dib glanced up.

"Dib?" Zim's voice, although he didn't exactly sound apologetic for his curtness earlier in the day. Dib still wasn't entirely sure what he'd done wrong, although he knew it had something to do with trying to get Zim's attention.

"Come in," Dib said, attention returning to the writing pad. He clicked his tongue, trying to figure out the best way to make up for lost time.

"Now don't get the wrong idea," Zim started, stepping into the room. "I'm not here to apologise." His eyes momentarily flicked away, "I'm here to ask you some questions."

"Questions?"

"Yes," Zim grumbled, "You were very excited to talk about your home, so I will ask you my questions and allow you to talk about your country. I guess."

It was a request framed as an order. Dib chuckled at the subconscious Irken mannerisms coming through the memory wipe. "Of course, Zim." He gestured to a spot on the floor across from him. The SIR unit's unused bedroom was not exactly well furnished, with a vacant twin bed in the corner and a flickering lightbulb barely keeping the room lit. Not that it mattered to either Irken, even if one of them didn't notice his own enhanced eyesight. .

"I'll start," Zim didn't sit, instead circling around behind Dib, which was a challenge considering the latter was leaning against the wall. "What's with your backpack?"

"My what?" Zim tapped Dib's PAK. "My PAK?"

"Yes, your pack. Your backpack." Zim would not leave Dib's PAK alone, futily attempting to pry it off. "I saw this morning, you were tired... and it," Zim paused, trying to find the right word, "It jolted you awake. Like an electric shock."

Dib's eyes lit up, who needed a history lesson when Zim was practically clambering to figure out Irken technology? "I can explain it to you, if you waAA—"

Dib was sent into the air on mechanical spider legs. Zim yelped and threw himself backward, staring up at Dib. "Well, now you have to!" He said, bewildered, surprised, but not scared. Curious, even. That was good. Dib pushed the center button on his PAK.

With a whirr, the legs folded back up and Dib landed lithely on his feet.

"Here," Dib pried the PAK up off his back. The tubes connecting it to his spine retracted, and it popped off. His life clock popped up in his peripheral vision. Hopefully this demonstration wouldn't take more than 10 minutes. "This is my PAK. It's..." Dib wondered how far he should go, if this should really be the first thing they discussed, but Zim was captivated so he continued. "It's like... what did you say? My backpack. It holds things—"

"Like giant mechanical spider legs?"

"Yes," Dib chuckled, "And a lot of other things as well." He opened the top, pulling out the formerly non-lethal stun gun. "Like this,"

"Yes, yes, I've seen that. I made that. Show me something new."

Dib rolled his eyes. "It's got a transmission device," Dib pulled out a small oblong metal object. "This one is short-range. I imagine you—" Dib stopped himself, Zim didn't catch his misstep, too interested in the device to pay attention.

"So it's like a cell phone?"

"A what?"

Zim pulled something from his pocket, a rectangular slab of glass and metal. Dib took it from his hands, gingerly tapping the screen. "It isn't the newest one," Zim leaned over, "But it doesn't look like you care." It wasn't high-tech by any means. Dib probably could have made a similar device as a smeet. But it was new, and interesting. Suddenly he realised how Zim must feel, blissful ignorance. Did he really want to ruin this? He thought back to the Tallests' reaction when he told them Zim lost his memories. What would they do to him if they had the motivation to?