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Tick for Tack- part three -Irken Birth

"Um, yeah, sure." Dib rolled his eyes, "Now spill it! I want to know more about your people... and why you seem to know who Gazarath was."

"Err, Gazarath was... in our mythology too, just with some minor differences. And She liked us better, cause we ARE better! We were Her chosen people! So Chosen were Weeee" Zim's voice became steadily louder and more frenzied as he jumped on to the poor picnik table.

"She commanded our glorious leaders to conquer the galaxy in her name! CONQUER it! We would rule all and know all! Then we would free her and rule at the head of-"

He stopped abruptly. Dib looked at him strangely, and the alien became conspicuously nervous.

"Oh... um, forget I said that! Zim said NOTHING!" he jumped off the table where his outburst had taken place, and sat down like nothing had ever happened.

Dib raised an eyebrow "If you insist. Just tell me something about your people that won't give you an epileptic seizure."

"oooooh... Okay, so you already know about how the PAK is attached to our spine, and how it contains our personality and most of our intelligence" he nodded wisely "So our brains are just sponges that absorb feed from them..."

"Uh-huh, yeah, of course, I totally knew that," The paranormalist agreed furtively, trying to hide the pad of paper where he had noted the last minute of conversation."What else can you tell me instead?"

"Uh, there is the birthing process, which you mentioned earlier." Zim
tapped his chin.

"Well, I think maybe not this time. I already went through the human
birds and the bees so-"

"Don't be stupid Dib-filth, Irken birth is not so disgusting as earthen creature's"

"Oh then yeah, that will work, I guess." Dib shrugged and rested his head in his hands.

"Well" Zim started, sounding like he was quoting a text book. "Irkenbirthing is a key aspect of how the glorious Irken Empire functions." His eyes glazed over, possibly remembering his smeet-hood.

"Irkens are not born naturally like lesser beings, but instead in the huge birthing facility under the surface of Irk. Irken fetuses develop in the many tubes that line the walls until they are at the right stage for 'hatching'."

He looked over at Dib to make sure he was using the correct term. "Automated machines remove the tube from the wall, crack it open to drop the young Irken Smeet to the ground,then place its Pak into its back."

"Why are Irkens born that way?" Dib asked curiously.

"Well just between us," Zim lowered his voice conspiratorially,

"Besides being an easy way to keep a constant supply of soldiers for the military, it gives the Empire complete control over its people. Which is the only way it would function anyways!"

It was hard to tell if Zim really believed in these values. He spoke with an air of having been spoon-fed his morals since birth. From what Dib had been able to discern, he probably had.

"From birth, Irkens are fed all the information they need through their Paks, but they're only given what the Empire wants them to know."

"It sounds more like they're being brainwashed into accepting a subserviant existences!" Dib was appalled at the new understanding. "That's Fascism!"

"No such thing! It's only a way to keep order among the superior race of Irk. Also, tabs are kept on every Irken, so no one is unaccounted for, and everyone is put to full use." The alien said this as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Lack of individuality can be blamed on the way the Empire runs their lives. Thought Dib. From what he had seen (spying) they all acted about the same, except for Zim and maybe Tak, whom he'd only known for a short time.

"One question though," said Dib "Since there are birthing machines, why are all the Irkens different shapes and sizes instead of being a bunch of identical clone things?â€

"Well, they never actually told us, but I know- because I am Zim and therefore worthy of praise- The birthing machine creates Irkens by randomly combining all past genes (and eliminating reproductive organ genes to ensure that no natural unmonitored Irken births occur)..."

The Irken looked over at Dib to see how he reacted to this veritable gold mine of information. Disappointingly, it seemed that his little test more orless flew over Dib's head.

"...Courtesy of the Control Brains which contain that kind of information about the Irken Ancestors. If the machines tried to use the same genetic information for all Irkens, then there would be no Tallest or social class system. Even you should understand that!"

The black haired boy decidedly ignored the jab, in light of Zim's generousness with information.

Whether Zim would admit it or not, he did trust the human, as much as he would ever trust anyone. When you spent time with the invader, you started to understand the more subtle (and civil) messages that weren't actually spoken.

"Alright, you finished your part, so it's back to me I guess." Dib looked up at the school "One problem though"

"whazat?" Zim asked, still trying to pull out of the last conversation.

"The bell's going to ring in less than 5-" BRINNNNG! "-3, seconds" Dib stood and grabbed his backpack "C'mon, I have biology seventh period" Then the irony struck him full force and he let out a rather girly giggle.

""why are you laughing Dib-smell?"

"I'll, uh, I'll tell you later. See ya!" and he ran for the door without looking back.

Description
Tick for Tack- part three -Irken Birth

"Um, yeah, sure." Dib rolled his eyes, "Now spill it! I want to know more about your people... and why you seem to know who Gazarath was."

"Err, Gazarath was... in our mythology too, just with some minor differences. And She liked us better, cause we ARE better! We were Her chosen people! So Chosen were Weeee" Zim's voice became steadily louder and more frenzied as he jumped on to the poor picnik table.

"She commanded our glorious leaders to conquer the galaxy in her name! CONQUER it! We would rule all and know all! Then we would free her and rule at the head of-"

He stopped abruptly. Dib looked at him strangely, and the alien became conspicuously nervous.

"Oh... um, forget I said that! Zim said NOTHING!" he jumped off the table where his outburst had taken place, and sat down like nothing had ever happened.

Dib raised an eyebrow "If you insist. Just tell me something about your people that won't give you an epileptic seizure."

"oooooh... Okay, so you already know about how the PAK is attached to our spine, and how it contains our personality and most of our intelligence" he nodded wisely "So our brains are just sponges that absorb feed from them..."

"Uh-huh, yeah, of course, I totally knew that," The paranormalist agreed furtively, trying to hide the pad of paper where he had noted the last minute of conversation."What else can you tell me instead?"

"Uh, there is the birthing process, which you mentioned earlier." Zim
tapped his chin.

"Well, I think maybe not this time. I already went through the human
birds and the bees so-"

"Don't be stupid Dib-filth, Irken birth is not so disgusting as earthen creature's"

"Oh then yeah, that will work, I guess." Dib shrugged and rested his head in his hands.

"Well" Zim started, sounding like he was quoting a text book. "Irkenbirthing is a key aspect of how the glorious Irken Empire functions." His eyes glazed over, possibly remembering his smeet-hood.

"Irkens are not born naturally like lesser beings, but instead in the huge birthing facility under the surface of Irk. Irken fetuses develop in the many tubes that line the walls until they are at the right stage for 'hatching'."

He looked over at Dib to make sure he was using the correct term. "Automated machines remove the tube from the wall, crack it open to drop the young Irken Smeet to the ground,then place its Pak into its back."

"Why are Irkens born that way?" Dib asked curiously.

"Well just between us," Zim lowered his voice conspiratorially,

"Besides being an easy way to keep a constant supply of soldiers for the military, it gives the Empire complete control over its people. Which is the only way it would function anyways!"

It was hard to tell if Zim really believed in these values. He spoke with an air of having been spoon-fed his morals since birth. From what Dib had been able to discern, he probably had.

"From birth, Irkens are fed all the information they need through their Paks, but they're only given what the Empire wants them to know."

"It sounds more like they're being brainwashed into accepting a subserviant existences!" Dib was appalled at the new understanding. "That's Fascism!"

"No such thing! It's only a way to keep order among the superior race of Irk. Also, tabs are kept on every Irken, so no one is unaccounted for, and everyone is put to full use." The alien said this as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Lack of individuality can be blamed on the way the Empire runs their lives. Thought Dib. From what he had seen (spying) they all acted about the same, except for Zim and maybe Tak, whom he'd only known for a short time.

"One question though," said Dib "Since there are birthing machines, why are all the Irkens different shapes and sizes instead of being a bunch of identical clone things?â€

"Well, they never actually told us, but I know- because I am Zim and therefore worthy of praise- The birthing machine creates Irkens by randomly combining all past genes (and eliminating reproductive organ genes to ensure that no natural unmonitored Irken births occur)..."

The Irken looked over at Dib to see how he reacted to this veritable gold mine of information. Disappointingly, it seemed that his little test more orless flew over Dib's head.

"...Courtesy of the Control Brains which contain that kind of information about the Irken Ancestors. If the machines tried to use the same genetic information for all Irkens, then there would be no Tallest or social class system. Even you should understand that!"

The black haired boy decidedly ignored the jab, in light of Zim's generousness with information.

Whether Zim would admit it or not, he did trust the human, as much as he would ever trust anyone. When you spent time with the invader, you started to understand the more subtle (and civil) messages that weren't actually spoken.

"Alright, you finished your part, so it's back to me I guess." Dib looked up at the school "One problem though"

"whazat?" Zim asked, still trying to pull out of the last conversation.

"The bell's going to ring in less than 5-" BRINNNNG! "-3, seconds" Dib stood and grabbed his backpack "C'mon, I have biology seventh period" Then the irony struck him full force and he let out a rather girly giggle.

""why are you laughing Dib-smell?"

"I'll, uh, I'll tell you later. See ya!" and he ran for the door without looking back.