Invader Zim and its characters belong to the almighty Jhonen Vasquez, lord of sporks, and the sentient dust-bunnies at Nickelodeon. I do this only out of the deepest respect for them. I mean it. Vasquez, if you're reading...damn, you're a genius.

Oh, Dev and Zey, however, belong to me. If Vasquez wanted to use them he could, but you guys aren't Vasquez, so ask first, please ^_^.

Any reviews you give to me will pleee-ase Pustulio!

Earth's savior. That's what they call me. It's not the kind of thing you call yourself. Not if you're sane, anyway.

Most of my life was devoted to the unknown, those things that I knew existed but could never prove. I've seen enough of them- bigfoot, vampires...aliens. The other kids mocked me, when they weren't avoiding me, but I was determined to show them all. And I did.

The day that HE showed up in our classroom, everything changed. The proof was there, sitting in the front row, just waiting to be exposed. So, to protect the world from full scale invasion...I did what I had to do.

Even with my customary mirrored shades the light burns my eyes as I pull into my parking space. It's one of those autumn days where the sun's glare does little to warm the earth, or the spirit. I climb out of the car, pulling my briefcase out with me, and ignore the chill. My black trenchcoat whips around my legs as I make my way around the corner of the building.

They're waiting at the front door, as they have been for weeks. A crowd, brandishing signs like swords. The posters range from amusing to stupid, most featuring doodles of cute, big-eyed little aliens. The people have been fighting us for months now, calling us everything from monsters to inhuman. You want inhuman? Try that THING in the lab.

They notice me almost immediately, and take up the usual chants and insults. I only sigh. This ritual got old after the first three days. Pushing through the crowd, my nose assaulted by the rancid mix of Calvin Klein and body odor, I ignore their taunts and cries. Such a varied group. Activist yuppies in business suits and raggedy UFO enthusiasts, fighting side by side for the protection of an innocent. A victim. Yeah, right.

Suddenly a wild-eyed man with a scraggly gray beard is in my face, shouting at me. I don't hear him. It's the sign he's holding that stops me. On it is a photograph, blown up till it's grainy and indistinct, barely more than blobs of green and dark purple. But it's enough.

I rip the poster from his hands and tear it apart, splinters stinging my palms as I smash the stick on the ground. The crowd goes silent, and backs away from me, as well they should. Someone is going to pay dearly for this.

"Where did you get this picture?" I scream at him, and he shrinks back, and won't answer. Pathetic. Grabbing my briefcase off the ground, I shove him aside and the crowd parts before me. I can't resist a final taunt as I make it to the door.

"I should've let the aliens destroy you!"

Shadows surround me as the door slams shut, and I take off my sunglasses, tucking them into a coat pocket. I don't need them, only the labs and operating rooms have strong light. The two guards at the door nod to me, "Professor Membrane." I nod back and continue down the hall, looking for someone to attack. There's been a breach in interior security, something we cannot afford.

"Membrane?" Professor Dev just appeared from one of the side corridors. Not someone to attack, but at least I can vent a little. "Dib, what happened? You look ready to kill."

"Understatement of the century."

He runs slim fingers through dark green hair. "Is it those damn 'activists'. I swear, what is wrong with those people? If I see one more of those 'Save the Alien' posters I'm gonna...hey, what's up with you?"

I hide a smirk. Dev loves to hear himself talk, I've learned it's best to let him. He always gives others a say...eventually. "There's been a breach in security. One of those 'Saucer Morons' had a photo of the last vivisection."

"Shit!"

"My sentiments exactly." I continue down the hall, and he hurries to catch up. "I want a full scale cleansing, every scientist, guard, and janitor in this damn building. Search through the personnel profiles, look for anyone likely to be sympathetic with 'it', and check financial backgrounds for people desperate for money. We're moving in a week and I don't want to take any of these fucking roaches with us."

"Will do, boss." A notepad is already in his hand, his pen flying over it. The spy is as good as found. Dev's boyish good looks and open, sympathetic nature mask a brutally calculating mind. He could ferret out a person's worst secrets, turn them in, and they'd still call him a friend as they were led to the gallows.

Light at the end of the hall indicates the first set of operating rooms, and I take off my trenchcoat and slip into a labcoat. "Has he been prepped yet?" Dev stops writing and looks up. In the flourescent light his hair is unruly, falling over the round purple goggles that hide his eyes. It has a comical effect, and I'm reminded again how glad I am he's on the team. Without his humor, I couldn't deal with all this shit and remain sane.

"No, he's still in the Cage, I think. Zey was supposed to do it, but she went out for coffee and donuts an hour ago and hasn't come back." His nose scrunches up in annoyance. He and Zey are constantly at each other's throats. "You know, when we move and the morons can't find the lab, they're gonna go after you next. You should have a guard detail around your house, never know what people like that might do. Mob mentality and all that. You gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine. The security around my house is tight enough."

"Well, you could always get a place near the lab, until we're done. If they can't find ya', they can't hurt ya'." He says it flippantly, waving one hand in dismissal, but I can't help but smile. I know that tone well. Dev's loyalty is hard to earn, but once you have it you can be sure he'll fight for you.

"I can take care of myself, 'mom'. Now why don't you get that search started, then scrub up. I'll go get him, and we can begin." Dev throws me a jaunty salute and disappears back down the hall. I use the intercom system to call for guards, and turn down another corridor...the one leading towards the Cage.

The alien arrived ten years ago, back when I was still in skool. For years we fought, matching each other blow for blow, battles always ending in a draw. He was trying to take over the world, and I was hunting for the proof, incontrovertible, that what I'd been saying all my life was true, that aliens exist and they're after our destruction. I can't describe the excitement I felt.

Then one day, it stopped. He didn't come to skool. I fidgeted through the class and, when it was over, ran to his place, certain he was making another attempt at world domination. The neon green house was still there, eerily backlit in the early twilight of a gathering storm, and the strange lawn ornaments; puffer fish, flamingos, an 'I heart Earth' sign...but there was no sign of movement. I crept over the fence, careful to avoid the giant robotic lawn gnomes, and looked in the window. There was no one inside, and I hung around until dark, wondering what was going on.The next day he was still missing, and the next, and the next. I went by his house everyday, but after the first time the lawn gnomes always caught me before I got very far.

It was a full week before he came back. His skin was a much paler shade of green than usual, his face drawn. The black wig he used to hide his antennae was uncombed, stray hairs sticking out all over. His eyes, in the lavender-gray contacts, darted around the room at the slightest noise or provocation. He didn't look at me once.

When the lunch bell rang he hurried out of the class, and I followed. In the hall he seemed determined to avoid human contact, rushing until students started to file out of the rooms, then twisting and dodging around them. He bypassed the cafeteria, only stopping by his locker to grab a bag before he went outside to eat. I cornered him on the front steps.

"Hello, Zim..." I used my usual snide tone, but instead of the sharp remark I expected, he flinched and moved to leave, still refusing to look me in the eye.

"Filthy stink-beast. Can I not even eat my lunch without your germ-laden breath on my neck?" At least he said something. I blocked his retreat, and he turned his face to me, finally meeting my gaze. What I saw in his eyes I never anticipated...

Fear.

He quickly covered it with a glare, and growled as he tried to push past me. "I haven't the time for your games, Dib. This foolishness has grown tiresome. I have more important things to deal with."

I let him pass, but I wasn't through with him. "What happened Zim?"

He stopped for a moment, but didn't turn around. "Nothing that concerns you, human." He started walking again, boots squishing on the damp grass.

"Zim. What are you afraid of?"

He rounded on me, crossing the distance between us in a second, and grabbed my collar. He pressed in, his face inches from mine, and the fury there surprised me. He was always easy to anger, but not like this. His breath was ragged as he hissed at me, voice barely above a whisper. "Human...you know nothing about me. I am afraid of no one!" He shook me, once, then shoved a sharp, black-gloved finger in my face. "You and your pathetic race. Arrogant little worms, you think you're so superior, that you are the pinnacle of existence. You care nothing for others' pain, and...and..."

He pushed me away and turned, his back to me as he began to run in the direction of his house. His reaction, his whole manner was confusing me. Determined to get some answers I hurried after him, but couldn't catch him until we made it to his place. I managed to grab his wrist as he dashed through the gate.

"Let me GO!" he yelled, twisting in my grip. Before he could activate the lawn gnomes I pulled him off balance, sending him to the ground, and kneeled over him.

"Tell me what's wrong."

His anger crumbled, the show of strength disappearing as he wrapped thin arms around his knees and buried his face in them. "I am alone. The Tallest...my leaders, they contacted me, said they weren't coming...for me to stay here, on this filthy planet..."

He raised his head enough to swipe at his eyes. "They don't want me anymore."

I almost believed him. Damn me, I almost believed him.

It was the best acting I've seen in my life, almost had me convinced. But he was my enemy, my proof! I had to force myself to remember, all the things he'd done, the threats he'd made. And when I realized it was all a lie, just another ploy to distract me while he conquered Earth, then it came to me. The perfect way to win. Lull him into a false sense of security, lead him in, then pull the noose tight.

I reached out to him, tried to put a hand on his shoulder, but he scrambled away. "Don't come any closer!" he growled, still swiping at the moisture running down his cheeks. "I may no longer have a reason to live, but I'm not willing to die, not yet."

I withdrew, leaning back on my heels and simply staring at him, as non-threatening as I could manage. He didn't run, merely sat there, glaring at me, suspicious but unsure. I willed the pacification into my voice. "It's okay, Zim. I'm not going to hurt you."

It was so easy...all I had to do was play along.

Two guards meet me at the last turn. They follow me, silent save for the swish of their black leather coats. I wonder briefly if either could be the leak, but dismiss the idea. They've been with me since the beginning. Before that, they served my father, until that final lab accident left me with his name, and nothing else.

We're getting close. I slip into my gloves as a faint light appears at the hall's end. One guard stops at the storage room for the usual hospital bed and restraints while the other readies the tranquilizer gun. We've learned to be cautious; he's proven dangerous in the past.

At first, proper containment was difficult. We had one near escape in which a guard was severely injured, prompting the development of a higher security system. The Cage is of my own design. The subject is kept in a room, steel reinforced walls, titanium restraints to restrict movement. The room's one window is bulletproof glass, and constant flourescent lights inside, coupled with pitch black outside, allow for easy observation, and keeps him disoriented.

It is quiet today, disturbingly so. The speakers in the room only allow for one-way communication, from the inside out, but somehow he always knows when someone's there. Most days we're greeted by screams and curses, threats of the doom that will befall us if he ever gets loose. The others wonder that he still has the strength to fight, but it's no surprise to me. I've faced that fury before.

We finally reach the window, and his voice becomes audible. Little more than a whisper. He's speaking in his native tongue again, a habit he lapses into on occasion. His back is toward us, and he doesn't acknowledge our presence. The words take on a lilting quality, almost resembling a song.

A song.

Without warning the sounds change, becoming english, but I can't discern the words, only the melody, until he raises his voice, and turns to stare at us, at me...

"Lesson number one in homicide, is emotional murder's no crime..." (1)

Me, him, and my sister, Gaz. When he started hanging around with me, him and Gaz became friends, close enough that he finally told her his secret, and she admitted she knew all along. With all the alien shoot-'em-up games she played, I'm not surprised.

The three of us were on a hilltop, overlooking the city, laying back in the thick grass and watching the stars. Gaz's radio sat beside us, tuned to what she affectionately calls the 'whiny college bands' station, and the volume on her GameSlave was turned down in deference.

He finally sat up, and turned to me, an eyebrow raised. "This is what you humans call...music?"

Many times it was so hard to keep the scorn out of my voice. Others, like that night, it was easy to forget my mission. "What's wrong, Zim? Didn't you have music on Irk?"

"Of course. But it wasn't like this. It was mainly percussion, ancient songs for battle and not much else." He relaxed back into the grass with a sigh.

"Despite our superior technology, I now feel that we were primitive in many ways. We always aimed for efficiency, but didn't realize how dangerous it can be, trying to breed out weaknesses like emotion. Eventually the whole thing will fall in on itself."

We fell silent after that, and I wondered exactly how much he wasn't telling me about his home planet. The sky began to lighten, and Gaz finally stood up, dusted herself off, and grabbed her radio. "We better get home. The dew's gonna collect soon, best for you not to be out here when it does, Zim."

He nodded and we both got to our feet. The three of us walked home under stars that were barely visible, the strains of a final song seemingly swallowed by the dying night.

'Lesson number one in homicide is emotional murder's no crime.'

Zey is there as I walk into the lab's side room, making smacking noises as she chews on a chocolate glazed donut and sips her usual cappucino. Dev is in the corner, rolling his eyes as she babbles on. I catch his eye and he mouths, 'why do we put up with her?' Another time I might grin, but amusement has no place here. We've got work to do.

Through the one-way mirror I can see the guards have already secured him, strapping him into restraints on the metal operating slab, and I feel again the sense of control. I now know what the bullies in skool must have, the seductive power over those so much smaller than them, weaker.

And he is smaller now, has been for a long time. While I now stand at six feet, he's hardly changed at all since the first day he came to Earth. Still the same height, having grown no more than a few inches in ten years. When he still feigned humanity -before I closed the net around him- we blamed it on a disease, said it was related to his 'skin condition'.

The backpack remains, as well. Early on, after the escape attempt, we tried to remove it. It nearly killed him. In the end we were forced to deactivate what we could in the metal pod and leave it be.

We've learned a great deal about Irken physiology since our first tentative experiments. With the goal of determining weaknesses, in preparation for war, we started with X-rays then moved on to vivisection, cutting him open to see what makes him tick. Mistakes nearly cost us our best chance of defeating them, as several times we had to fight to keep him alive.

The government is keeping close tabs on us, afraid to lose a valuable study tool. I've managed to keep them from their 'interrogations,' which would almost certainly kill him, but our research is now devoted to 'stress tests', which involve pushing his body to its limits, forcing him past the threshold of tolerance, so that the military knows how far they need to go when the aliens attack. It's ironic. He's now suffering exactly the same fate he had planned for us.

His shouting starts up, as if a cue for us to begin. He knows the routine as well as we do, and seems determined to face each session with an absurd level of angry resistance. The yelling draws Zey's attention, eliciting a disturbing smile, a sadistic glint in her eye. She and Dev enter the lab, and she saunters over to the machine we're using for today, positioning it over him as Dev prepares the monitoring system.

After some choice words he ignores them. His sharp eyes focus on the mirrored wall. He can't see me, but he knows I'm here. His gaze burns a hole in me. There is fear there; only the stupid feel no fear, and he is anything but stupid. But it is nothing compared to the pure, unbridled rage that fills those menacing rubies. Before I realize it a shiver runs down my spine.

A hand waving in my face startles me, and I turn to find Dev, an eyebrow raised as he regards me. Zey is standing in the door. She gives a quick wave to the alien, and blows him a kiss, then smirks cruelly as she slams the door. Truly a disturbed woman. I would have kicked her off the team long ago, but she's the best there is at what she does. She takes her place at one of the computer consoles, Dev takes the other, and they stare at me, waiting.

I nod and Zey activates the machine. Today's experiment is a simple one, something I thought up based on my earliest findings on Irkens. As luck would have it they're vulnerable to water, and contact with it is still his strongest weakness, that we're aware of.

The alien goes silent as the first drop hits his bare chest, only hisses a little at the sudden pain. The drops continue, a steady sequence, each hitting the same spot. His eyes are squeezed shut, moisture leaking from the corners, but he doesn't cry out, not yet. As usual he tries to hide his agony...to spite me, I'm sure. But the screams always come, eventually. It's just a matter of time.

Minutes seem to drag on, and he endures in silence. He bites his lip, clenches his fists until purple blood wells up beneath his fingers. Some might mistake it for bravery, but I see it for what it is, sheer stubborn malice. It doesn't matter. Every wince, each tear, is a victory. And finally, the ultimate triumph.

His resolve breaks, strength leaving him, and he screams, screams until he can't anymore, until the nerves are deadened and the skin goes numb. And when his eyes slip shut in relief, his tongue hanging out and his breath coming in ragged, panting gasps, the drip is moved...until the screams begin again.

I don't feel like going home, but I do. Only, I can't stay there. I park the car in the driveway, leave the briefcase on the passenger seat, and head off down the sidewalk, not knowing or really caring where I'm going.

I stopped taking walks long ago; they tend to lead to uncomfortable levels of introspection. But the wanderlust won't leave me alone. Besides, it's the only way to truly appreciate the city. And by appreciate, I mean see how absolutely depressing a place it is. You can't get the full effect of the smog-dirtied walls, scummy windows, and filthy gutters from the comfort of a car. Not to mention that garish tribute to commercialism, the billboard.

I pass by the local convenience store, atop which sits a billboard. This one's an ad for an episode of 'Mysterious Mysteries of Strange Mystery', one I did an interview for. The picture is me, standing proudly, dark shades glinting and trenchcoat flying, fully looking the part of the intrepid paranormal investigator. I hate that picture.

The military brass seem to think it's a good idea, having my likeness plastered everywhere, and the team has gone along with them. They say it keeps interest up, but they're just trying to use me, just like everyone else has done at one time or another.

The protesters may be stupid, but stupidity of that sort usually has an exponential relationship with how vocal people can be. They're slowly but surely gaining support, something that's making the military nervous. To their PR guys I'm a walking talking piece of propaganda, fresh-faced, eager, and ambitious. To top it all off, I saved the world.

And heroes are so hard to come by in peacetime.

A cold breeze stings my face, and I look up to find my wandering's brought me to a familiar cul-de-sac. The street is dark; the houses were evacuated just before the capture. The residents were compensated, and the buildings near the end were torn down, to allow easier access to the one that served as his home base.

A chain link fence, topped by barbed wire, surrounds the site, and the MP on duty nods as I come into view. He's surprised, he recognizes me but still watches me warily as I circle the fence. I don't blame him, I never come here anymore.

This is part of the deal we made with the government, probably the only thing that allowed me to retain control of the project. We get the alien, and they get his technology. Well, most of it anyway.

The ridiculous decorations are gone, the gnomes long since removed. Even the house itself is barely standing. They've stripped it down, piece by piece. The heavy machinery around the lot speaks of their efforts towards excavating the massive underground lab. Reverse engineering has already yielded some surprising results. We'll be ready when the aliens arrive.

The MP is on the phone, trying to find out what I'm doing here, I assume. I could stay, but there's no point, and I don't feel up to answering any questions. I force a smile on my face and a friendly wave, then retrace my steps down the street. I wander for a while, still without a destination. Or rather, I have a destination, I just don't know it. My brain won't tell me yet.

I don't know it until I'm on the sidewalk in front of the house. The top floor is dark, but the flickering light of a television glows in a first floor window. The porch light is off, as usual, but the car and motorcycle in the drive tell me someone's home.

My knock on the door is soft, uncertain. I haven't been here in...a long time. I don't know what good can come of this visit, but something tells me it needs to be done. I really don't want to be here.

"Hiiii!!" The high-pitched squeal draws my eye down, to the little green and black-spotted dog standing in the now-open door. The alien's insane 'pet' robot. I never bothered to report it to the government. After the capture we took it apart, only to find that it's a piece of junk. By all laws of robotics it shouldn't function at all. We put it back together, but it wouldn't work, and I was about to dispose of it when Gaz asked for it. She was very persuasive, as usual, and I finally relented. After all, the robot was completely useless.

When I visited her a week later I was greeted by the robot, dressed in its dog suit, a mindless smile on its face and a brainfreezy in one hand. Gaz refused to tell me how she got it to work.

"Master, the Dib-human is here!" He scampers into the house, turning on lights as he goes. I peer into the house, wondering if I could run, could make it down the street before-

Gaz is suddenly at the door. Her amber eyes widen, from the perpetual squint of a life-long gamer to filling her pale face. "Dib?! What are you doing here?"

I've already opened my mouth before I realize I don't have an answer. "I don't know..." The robot hides behind her legs, giggling, and she stares at me for what seems like minutes, before moving aside to let me in. I follow her down the hall. In the living room I can see her big screen tv, stereo with massive speakers, and various video game systems. It's an entertainment system some would die for, an extremely expensive one. She's made a better-than-average living for herself designing video games, and with the recent release of the tenth installment in her 'Extraterrestrial Doom' series, she's the most sought after designer in the business.

The robot, GIR, grabs my hand and gives me a goofy grin, as Gaz leads me to the kitchen. GIR pulls me over to the table, pushes me into a seat, then hops up onto my lap. He leans back, rubbing his head against my chest and making little noises of contentment. Gaz glares at me. "You want a drink or something?"

"Uh, no, I'm fine." She shrugs and sits down across from me. We sit in silence, neither one knowing what to say. Eventually GIR gets bored, and decides to make a game out of trying to hide in my trenchcoat, scooting down next to me in the chair and covering his head with the leather. He squeals in delight and giggles insanely, his little black tail wagging, poking out from under the coat. After some struggling I manage to pull him out, and he claps his hands and jumps to the floor.

"You wanna' cupcake?" I shake my head and he dives into a cabinet, emerging with a chocolate frosted cupcake which he devours noisily. Gaz actually smiles at him. She never smiles at anyone. She never smiles at me anymore. I know she loves me, siblings have to love each other...but I don't think she likes me much.

"Why did you do it?" The question takes me by surprise. She's still looking at GIR, that small smile gracing her lips, but her eyes are hard and pained.

"He was a threat, Gaz, he still is. His people were trying to take over the world, they still are. I'm sure of it." My voice remains steady. I'm used to this discussion by now. One of these days I'll convince her, I'll make her see the truth.

"Zim was harmless and you know it." The robot's ears perk up at the mention of his owner, and he stops licking the frosting off his hands. Gaz doesn't notice, her eyes are locked on me. "What's more, he was our friend-"

"NO!" I shout. "Never mine." The robot looks sad...how can a robot be sad? I ignore him. "Besides, he was just trying to use us-"

"He was our FRIEND!" She shouts, and I can't help but flinch. My sister was intimidating when we were children. Now she's frightening. The little robot starts crying, clear liquid running down his cheeks, and Gaz turns away from me, holds her arms out, and a ball of green and black flies at her. She hugs the robot, whispering something to him until his crying stops. Sniffling, he climbs off her lap and disappears down the hall, and seconds later the theme song for the 'Scary Monkey Show' can be heard from the living room.

When Gaz turns her attention back to me, her eyes are filled with anger, and I'm overwhelmed by an irrational urge to defend myself. "You think he's such a great person? He's not even a person! You haven't seen the way he looks at me, Gaz. Hatred, pure and-"

"You betrayed him! How do you expect him to react? You feigned friendship when he needed it the most, then turned on him! Freedom, companionship, LIFE! You tore it away from him, everything that meant anything to him, and left him nothing but fear and pain! Now he's a prisoner of a war that may never happen..." She buries her head in her hands, and I can't speak. I've never seen her like this before. We used to fight, all siblings do, but this...I've never seen this much emotion from her.

"It was bad enough an entire race turned their backs on him...I always thought you understood it. You two were so much alike."

"No! We were nothing alike, how could you compare me to that...that inhuman monster?"

Shock flashes across her features, then is replaced by steel. "Do you really believe that?" I start to respond, but she cuts me off. "No, don't tell me. Tell yourself. You can lie to yourself for a long time, but eventually...you know, it's sad when you can't trust your own mind."

My throat is suddenly dry. "If you care so much about him, why did you only visit the lab once?"

"Because I'm weak. Because I couldn't look at his scars without feeling sick. I couldn't listen to those scientists talking about him like he was some sort of mindless insect...every time they laughed, I wanted to bring a loaded uzi with me on my next visit." Her gaze fell to the tabletop, and her last words were too quiet, almost inaudible.

"Because I can't see the hurt in Zim's eyes, without knowing...how much I failed him."

As I leave her house, and head home, I feel numb. She refuses to understand, but she's always been so stubborn, never bothered to listen to me before, why should she start now? She'll learn the truth, eventually. When the world is under attack, she'll thank me...

The aliens' armada still hasn't come yet...Maybe we scared them off.

I jerk awake, flying out of bed, breath coming fast as my eyes dart around my darkened bedroom. A nightmare. My stomach feels like ice, and it's long moments before I can convince my heart to stop pounding.

I hate sleep. Ever since my childhood, since I knew that the things hiding in the dark weren't always figments...I chased them, because I was afraid of them. Fear leaves a person with only two choices, flee or fight. I choose to fight. But sleep robs me of my only defenses, leaves me vulnerable, an easy victim. The loss of consciousness, and the amnesia that always accompanies waking, are evils I wish I could rid myself of.

I lay in the bed for awhile, wrapped in the warmth of the blankets, but sleep doesn't come again. I finally get out of bed, pull a pair of black pants on over my boxers, then a t-shirt, and grab my glasses from the night stand before heading to the front door. The wood floor is freezing to my bare feet, and it's probably colder outside. I stop to pick up my trenchcoat, then step outside.

It's still dark, the night dotted with only a few dim stars. It seems lifeless, suffocating. Before him, the night sky was a source of wonder for me. I would lie on my roof into the early morning, staring at the stars. I knew there was something out there, there had to be. The world is such a cold place, surely this isn't all there is...

I searched for the truth, until it found me. And then the night sky was a dangerous thing, not only cold but aggressive. The world may be far from perfect, but now it's all I've got, and I'm not going to let it go.

Too much introspection. I've gotta stop spending time alone. The dew on the grass soaks my feet as I turn to go in, but a glint in the darkness catches my eye. I stare at the sky. I can't see as well with my glasses, wish I had my contacts in. My blood has turned to ice in my veins and I know now something's not right, something is off somehow...

I run into the house, banging my knee on the couch as I stumble through the dark to my desk. I pull out a telescope, one my father gave me when I was five, one that was far more advanced than a kid should have. In moments I'm outside again, telescope aimed at the sky...and I see them. Glinting a menacing red, magenta, and purple in the thin light just breaking over the horizon...

They're here.

(1) 'Witness', written by Jakob Dylan and performed by The Wallflowers. Album, 'Breach'. Copyright Jumbo Brother Music/ASCAP. Give it a listen, won't you? Some of the best music around.

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