Chapter 7: Containment

Dib found himself in the bowels of Membrane Laboratories. He was still inside the bubble. Large cables were attached to it, to supply Oxygen and contain Dib's illness. White coats surrounded him. His Father among them. Dib felt wires growing out of his throat, skewering the membranes of throaty flesh, and was struck with a coughing fit, he looked down at his hands, they were stained with blood. His limbs began to ache.

"Now son, when have I ever FAILED at something?" Membrane interjected. Dib rolled his eyes. "I don't know, parenting?" Dib wanted to retort but kept that to himself, as his throat was not in the best shape.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, BOY! I will cure you faster than an incontinent rabbit can find a place to piss!"

Membrane directed the trapped boy to provide blood samples. There was a station within the bubble with a needle positioned over it. It allowed for samples to be taken from the subject without risking contamination. Dib obeyed and felt a small prick followed by lightheadedness.

"This should be enough, son. I should have the cure sooner than…"

"I GET IT, DAD! You are going to cure me REALLY FAST. CAN YOU JUST SHUT UP AND GET BACK TO WORK?!" Dib was exasperated with his Father's overconfident attitude. Couldn't the man just get to the point and begin work while Dib is STILL Dib?! Anger burned within him. He usually reciprocated his Father's apathy towards him. But today it was different. He was just so freaking ANGRY! And he was going to DIE!

Membrane took the samples and left the room. Due to his constant use of goggles and collared lab coat, his face was unreadable. Dib was stuck worrying about the progression of his illness. He felt so weak. His muscles ached and it felt as if he was wasting away. Coughing became more frequent, blood pooling with each cough. And there was an obnoxious ringing in his head, all freaking sounds were magnified in his head as if it were an echo chamber. The pain and the ringing made him want to annihilate anything in his path or die trying.

Meanwhile, Membrane was actually worried about his son for once. That POOR, INSANE boy! Why couldn't he stick to REAL SCIENCE and not constantly endanger himself just to prove that Humanity's collective figments of imagination are real?! And LOOK! Now the boy was infected with a virus out of a post-apocalyptic novel! All because he did WHO KNOWS WHAT trying to prove that the very fictitious aliens exist! He would have a talk with his son once this was over…

So far, Membrane had managed to create a serum that would hinder the progression of the symptoms; however, the serum would eventually cave in to the virus after one week based on the cell culture samples that were subjected to local temporal fields. A clever application of the hardware employed for the temporal object replacement device that Membrane believed to be a terrible and dangerous idea, as the time continuum is not something to be fucked with. It allowed for the actual cultures to be subjected to the passage of time, instead of in silico simulations where unknown variables may not be programmed into the simulation.

Membrane visited his son; blood was pooling in the whites of his eyes. And rage filled those eyes, inhuman sounds escaped from those near-ruined vocal cords as the boy continued his attempts at bursting through his bubble-like bindings. The boy gnashed at the bubble with his teeth and nails. Fortunately, the bubble was more resilient than it appeared to be. Running into the bubble at full speed proved to be a horrible mistake. Dib found himself being violently thrown in the opposite direction by the wall.

"SON, I need you to head to the sample-collection station so that I may temporarily relieve you of your symptoms while I look for a permanent cure!" Membrane bellowed, while the boy remained unresponsive and completely focused on escaping his bindings, froth had begun to come out of the boy's mouth.

Membrane was wearing a hazmat suit and held a syringe. He would need more personnel to assist him and hold the infected boy down. "CODE 345 AT ROOM 67Q!" Membrane pressed a button and yelled through the speaker.

Personnel were quick to arrive at Dib's holding room. Personnel carefully released Dib and tackled the raging boy as the Professor injected the serum into his son's muscular tissue. The boy seemed calmer and saner now. There was recognition in his eyes as he took note of his surroundings. Personnel's hold on the boy relaxed. The boy looked like he could now be reasoned with.

And then Dib ran off, slithering away from Membrane staff. The boy was still contagious despite the temporarily alleviated symptoms.

"ACTIVATING EMERGENCY CONTAINMENT!" The whole building was awash with blinking red lights and the blaring sound of alarms. Metal doors sliding down possible exits and sealing permanently. Membrane could not let the boy get away. He now had to deal with finding his poor insane son instead of focusing on developing a permanent cure. THAT BOY would be the death of him and many others if not properly contained!

-Meanwhile in Zim's lab-

Zim was livid. How dare THE DIB interrupt his work!? NOW the execution wouldn't be as SEAMLESS as had been intended. STILL, it would do… Widespread death and contagion and death would ensue, just NOT AS EFFICIENTLY as it would have had the Dib not been so FREAKING INCONSIDERATE and interrupted ZIM! He didn't get the chance to get the PERFECT selection of viral genes that would render Humanity into a pathetic doomed mess of MASHED POTATOES for Gir to EAT!

Instead of a pacific takeover due to contagion and death, havoc reigned over the streets of the dilapidated city. Enraged morons were rampant, engaging in feral battles with anything that moved. Tearing each other apart as if they were gladiatorial pieces of baloney. The monkey-brain of humans completely overrun with animalistic instincts was a terrifying sight. These beings were as frightening as the Halloweenies. And perhaps nastier with how DISGUSTING they were when they tore each other's shit-encrusted flesh.

Zim had to protect his BASE from these horrible creatures. He had captured one of them, a man without legs that happened to be his neighbor and had been a source of energy for his base throughout his mission. Zim would study him to learn his weaknesses and strengths, as well as which symptoms to expect as the infection progressed. The Irken had also boarded up the upper levels of his base and would commence lockdown mode soon, to keep Gir from destroying the barriers and letting in the feral humans.

AN: I have been REALLY busy, but guess who's going to be working with viruses now? No more menial office work! I am so excited about the project and glad that I will finally put my capabilities to use. This is how Zim must have felt like when he got his fake mission, but it's REAL in my case, so this is awesome. This is my chance to prove myself as a scientist. I am also incredibly excited about Enter the Florpus. I have finally watched it and enjoyed it although I miss the griminess of the original. I loved that Zim calls Dib "The Dib" like I do in this fic, and that Membrane does care about Dib, which I also incorporated into this fic. I am glad to have gotten Zim's wording right as I wasn't sure if I was making that up from watching too much Final Space. And I have loved the latest issues of the comic (e.g. cementing the fact that Zim is capable of loving something other than himself in issue 45). I look forward to issue 46 arc. I wrote the initial parts before ETF, by the way. This was a challenging chapter to write due to time constraints and the Membrane/Dib interactions. I am just making shit up at this point in the story.

So, if it wasn't clear enough, Dib interrupted Zim while Zim was working. Zim only managed to make a virus that would not be contagious to Irkens and was incredibly contagious to humans and incredibly difficult to cure, but he didn't have much say in which symptoms would manifest. He was unable to pick and choose symptoms completely for his "Designer virus". And the increased mindless aggression is a hindrance to his mission.