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Origins	By : LaChatteNoire Category: +G through L > Invader Zim > Het- Male/Female Views: 2468 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Invader Zim, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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There was a study around 1990 implying that listening to Mozart increases human intelligence.

Take a look at the NIMH articles on IQ. They skirt the facts around extremely high intelligence, saying that issues of mental instability are not completely proven though they admit that an IQ of 180 guarantees social disorders. As a person raised around masters of historical law and trained in psychology and science, I stand by what I comment here concerning sanity and genius.

Excerpt of the story the Professor reads to Dib is from The Whisperer in Darkness by H.P. Lovecraft.

I apologize for the terminology, but I’d never even heard the term “American Heartland” until George W. got elected president and I heard it all over the news. I’ve always known the entire Midwest as the Bible Belt, probably because both my parents spent a good part of their childhoods in Oklahoma, Missouri, and Nebraska before moving West.

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Chapter 4: And the World Will Know...

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Day 194: Theory states that this point in time, when the sense of hearing is finishing development, is perfect for developing language and vocal imprinting. Therefore, I have been acquainting the child with the sounds of the great musical and literary masters.

-----

Simon Simmons stumbled into the office under the massive piles of reports he carried. He dropped them in a grand gesture onto Professor Membrane’s desk. “You’re not taking any chances are you?”

Membrane snapped out of her doze. She sat sprawled in her desk chair, labcoat open and a pair of Walkman headphones spread over her stomach. “Hmm?” She picked up the small stereo and checked the tape. She flipped the cassette and started playing it once again.

Simmons picked up the empty tape case. “‘The Best of Mozart’? You don’t actually believe that study, do you? I mean, he’s already a genius. There’s always that line, you know, the line between genius and insanity? You already flirt with that line enough. Is increasing Dib’s intelligence really a good thing?”

“Oh don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. Besides, it’ll only increase his IQ a few points.”

Simmons wheeled the chair away from the desk and gripped the handles. He stood over Membrane, blocking her escape with his body. He stared into her eyes. “Mem, please, listen to me. You know how fragile human sanity is. You know that no human being with an IQ over 180 has the capacity to retain that sanity for long. You know your own intelligence and the tenuous hold you have on your own sanity.”

“Simon…”

“Mem, you remember as well as I your childhood. You remember the Hell that was your life before you found your outlet. I remember watching you before you found science, back when your mind was still defining itself. Mem, before science I watched your sanity fade because you couldn’t hold onto it. You couldn’t hold onto something so simple, so non-complex as human societal rules. Sometimes I wonder if you ever regained those rules.”

Membrane bristled. “If I had retained those rules I wouldn’t be here now. I’m beyond those pointless little rules made by tiny small-minded people who couldn’t see past their own pointless lives.”

“I know Mem. And your clone’s going to be just like you. He’ll never follow those rules, he’ll take forever to find his outlet, and when he does he’ll pursue it with the same frantic insane genius you possess. Promise me one thing though. Don’t become your mother. Don’t try to force him into an outlet he doesn’t enjoy like she did to you. Please.”

-----

That night found Membrane alone in bed, reading aloud to Dib. She stopped at a pagebreak. “Dib, there’s something we need to talk about. You might as well know this from the start. You’re not like the others. You’re nowhere near normality. You’re a genius, and that’s going to make life very difficult for you. You’ll be misunderstood most of your life, in fact, the other children will probably torture you mercilessly. And you’re going to hate them for it. You’re going to hate me for it, because I’m not going to stop it. I’m not even going to try. Because the only way to possibly stop it would be to have you home schooled. You’ll never find your outlet if you’re home schooled. You need a certain amount of freedom if you’re ever going to find it. I’ll help you all I can, but despite your genetics I’m going to try not to run your life for you. I do hold some hope, some longing for you to join me as a scientist, but I guess if science isn’t your outlet I’ll have to live with it.

“I guess I’m not helping by introducing you to culture and intelligence before you’re even born, but it’s not like you’d be able to avoid it. Besides, even as a scientist you need a sense of beauty, a sense of wonder, a sense of terror. It’s preferable you have a sense of morality but I’m not sure you really need it in the common sense of the word. We’re not like the common others. So as long as you avoid getting caught doing anything massively illegal I’ll support you, if not publicly then with resources.”

She sighed and was struck with the sudden feeling that Dib was listening intently to her every word. “Enough melancholy, shall we continue?”

“The unknown things, Akeley wrote in a grown pitifully tremulous, had begun to close in on him…”

-----

Simmons threw himself into Membrane’s office. “Mem, you have to get out there!”

Membrane looked up from behind a mountain of paperwork. “It’s not more budget paperwork, is it? Don’t we have accountants for all this? It’s the end of the fiscal year, where in Hell is everyone?”

Simmons gave her a venomous look. “Mem, you haven’t shown yourself outside this office for weeks, your show’s been in reruns for months, Membrane Labs is still a very young company; we’re not stable enough for this. Do you have any idea what I’ve been doing to keep her afloat?”

“I… had no idea.”

“I know, I made sure of it.”

“What?”

Simmons went on the defensive. “You know how fragile you were at the beginning, there was no way you’d survive this. Please, I did what I thought I had to.”

Membrane stood up and looked out her window onto the streets far below. “I know. What would happen if suddenly the world knew?”

“What?!”

“Not about the clone, not about the sex change, but just about the pregnancy? A smokescreen explanation, similar to what you let the Labs find out.”

Simmons stared blankly. “You’d estrange us from most of the general community, that’s what. Humans are naturally too closed minded for such an idea. Our stockholders would despise us forever.”

“Well who are our stockholders?”

Simmons paused. “Well you and I hold most… of… Wait…”

Membrane nodded. “My house is paid for and I have enough liquid assets to hold me over for several years, long enough for this to blow over. I know you’re in the same situation. And the two of us together hold almost two thirds of the company’s stocks. True, others may hate us, but do they really matter?”

Simmons hung his head. He looked up, grinning. “You’re completely evil, you know that, right? Go ahead, tell them.”

-----

Day 221: I’ve scheduled the press conference. The world will know exactly what I want them to know.

Heaven help them.

-----

The room fell silent as Professor Membrane walked into the room, lab coat open, stomach very swollen. Thoughts of some obscure form of cancer filled the heads of the more fantastic journalists while the rest didn’t know what to think.

Membrane collected herself and began. “Ladies and gentlemen of the press, I have a couple of announcements. First, I am in the middle of a history-making experiment. Through the advances of artificial insemination and polymer chemistry I have succeeded in creating the first known male pregnancy. Seven months ago the experiment began and despite some early events has run smoothly considering. To avoid scandals over the consent of the male I volunteered myself as the subject. The egg was supplied by an anonymous donor, the sperm was my own.”

She stepped away from podium and stood in profile for a few seconds so the photographers could have their fun before stepping back and continuing. “Second is the matter of the filming schedule of ‘Probing the Membrane of Science.’ The reason for the halt in filming should be obvious at this time. Filming will resume after the child has been delivered. Any questions?”

A multitude of hands flew into the air. Membrane pointed at one in the middle. “Professor Membrane, Roy Parker of the Daily Sleaze. What possessed you to perform such an experiment on yourself?”

“What drives all of science? The need to know, to understand. I needed to know if this could be done. Next question. You.” She pointed to someone far away.

“Grey Whitman, Financial Advisor. In today’s social environment what do you expect your stockholders to make of such an experiment?”

She smiled. “I have the complete support of my board and my scientists. Even in reruns my show is the most popular educational show outside of Sesame Street and the only show of it’s specific subject. I have the support of those who control the vast majority of Membrane Labs stocks. We have 6 years worth of non-transferable government contracts. Membrane Labs will survive. Next question. You?”

“Moofy Dumee, National Exaggerator. Professor, if you wanted a child so badly, why didn’t you just find a girlfriend?”

Oh Hell no. Membrane pulled up a prepared half-truth to cover her tracks. “I did have someone but we were incapable of having children without fertility treatments, believe me we tried. When I thought up this procedure I decided to give it a try. However I neglected to ask her consent and when she heard what I’d done…” She wiped away a horse tear. “She left me when she found out what I’d done. I haven’t seen her for more than 6 months.” She wiped her eyes. “Excuse me. No more questions.”

She met Simmons at the prearranged spot outside the pressroom. “Consol me.” When the press left they saw Membrane crying on the shoulder of her assistant, sobbing about being left alone by her ‘deadbeat girlfriend.’

-----

Day 243: My smokescreen worked. Although I have lost a large amount of support in the Bible Belt I have picked up more than enough in California and in Foreign Interests to cover the loss. Most religious groups have declared me Devil’s Spawn. The Pope is readying to declare my child as a sign of the Apocalypse.

This is amusing.

-----

Membrane plopped down into her chair in Simmons’ office. “So what’s the news? Will we live?”

Simmons looked over the various tabloids, newspapers, financial papers, and printouts covering his desk. “Well, as you can see we’ve picked up a lot of data. In general though your show has lost enough ratings in the Bible Belt to be pulled from most networks. However in certain areas of the West Coast we’ve surpassed Sesame Street. The BBC wants to talk about picking up a few shows for a trial run.”

She smiled. “Well, it’s easy to see who in this world is progressive.”

Simmons continued. “China wants to talk about some nuclear thing, they promise they’ll only use it for power generation.”

Membrane tried to sit up but gave up. “Well there’s that idea the US had 40 years ago, perfect nuclear power, minimal waste, completely safe, and the reason we’re not using it is because you can’t make bombs nor submarines with it. We can sell them that. I’m sure the US government won’t mind. Especially since they won’t know.”

“At least until China starts boasting and stops buying coke.”

“And by then, who’s to say they didn’t come up with the idea themselves?”

Simmons picked up a couple of newspapers and nodded. “Anyway, the Associated Press is screaming for an interview. Donahue wants you on his talk show. NBC, ABC, CNN, National Geographic, and the BBC all want interviews.”

“Yes to the National Geographic, the BBC, and maybe to CNN. No to Donahue, the Associated Press I’ll have to think about. This is really weird. I’ll have to actually flesh out the story of the ex-girlfriend, won’t I?”

“Among other things. You’ll also have to explain those boobs.” Simmons pointed out the small breasts hat had grown as a result of hormone treatment and late pregnancy.

Membrane looked down at her chest. “What’s wrong with my breasts?”

“Nothing, in fact I think they’re very nice boobs, but not many people expect men, even pregnant men, to have boobs.”

“Who says anyone’s gonna notice my breasts?”

Simmons picked up a copy of the National Exaggerator, which had as a loud obnoxious heading: “Professor Membrane’s Boobs!”

She blushed. “Ok ok, I’ll come up with something. And it’ll be properly scientific and hold up to any moderate amount of scrutiny. Anything else?”

Simmons held up a copy of some random tabloid. “Yes. Beware your mother.” The tabloid held a headline titled “My Pregnant Son: The True Story of Professor Membrane.”

It was possibly one of the most frightening things the both of them had ever seen.

-----

Day 265: At last I’ll be having an interview with Scientific American today.

I don’t know why but since I woke up I’ve had the strangest feeling that something is about to go wrong. And for some reason my lower back aches. I’m assuming it’s just muscular strain like last time but something’s different.

I wish I knew what it is.

-----

Membrane was sitting in an uncomfortable chair finishing yet another interview when she cringed. A sharp pain ripped through her gut so fast she could only gasp.

The interviewer, a writer for Scientific American and also a doctor, noted her reaction with interest. “Something wrong?”

She waved him off. “It’s nothing Dr. Khan. Don’t worry about it.”

Doc Khan leaned forward. “Tell me, how far along are you?”

“A little over 8 months, why?”

“And how exactly will this pregnancy end? Will you be undergoing Cesarean at the end of 9 months? Will the child decide when it wants to be born like a normal pregnancy? Will you go through labor?”

“It was decided the baby would be born in as normal way as possible, through labor and when they baby decides it’s time. Oh, but I’ve got another two weeks before the end of gestation.” Another cramping pain ripped through her and she doubled over. “What on earth?”

Doc Khan stood up. “I think we should end our interview here. Stay seated for a short while. I’m going to call an ambulance.”

“What?! What for?”

Doc Khan looked her over, at the belly ready to pop, at her pain-paled cheeks, at the trembling in her thighs from an unknown exertion. “Professor, you’re obviously in labor. Who should I call?”

Labor? Oh fuck… “A local hospital is in no way equipped for this, call my assistant, I need to get to Membrane Labs immediately.” Another searing pain ripped through. “Please.”

Doc Khan ran off to the phone as Membrane grabbed her belly. She felt a growing warmth spread between her legs as her water broke. Dib was coming. And there was nothing she could do to stop him.

-----

Simmons raced beside the ambulance stretcher as he stated the facts to Professor Membrane, who gripped the sides and tried not to scream as a paramedic and two Labs doctors wheeled her to the basement laboratory. “You realize how lucky you are, right? You’re lucky this happened in front of a Scientific American guy and not some sleazy tabloid reporter. You’re lucky he was a doctor and recognized the signs before you started having this baby in his office. You’re lucky he called me. You’re lucky we prepared for this. You’re--”

“Will you shut up?! Will you please shaaAAIIEE!!!” Another cramp tore through her as the paramedic declared the contractions to be 40 seconds apart.

They moved her onto an operating table and the paramedic left. The doctors closed in around her. “What do you suppose we do now?”

“I guess we wait. Sir, do you want some morphine?”

“How long do we wait?”

“Until the Professor really needs to push, as far as I know. Wait, lemme check something.” The doctor felt around the outside of Membrane’s belly. “Ok, Sir, I’m getting the morphine.”

The second doctor glared back at the first. “What’s with the morphine? Is the kid the size of a beach ball or something?”

He returned with a syringe and a bottle of morphine. “The kid’s kinda skinny but he’s got a… well… I’ve never seen a baby with a head that big. Sir, are you sure about the morphine?”

Membrane tensed up as another contraction hit. “Ok, fine, gimme the damn morphine. How long is this gonna last?”

He gave her the injection. “I don’t actually know. It could be minutes, it could be hours. We won’t know until it ends.”

-----

Labor lasted another two hours, time mercifully spent hopped up on morphine. Unfortunately, the morphine was wearing off and it was almost an hour before she could safely be given another dose.

The screams were bloodcurdling and audible for miles.

Simmons hovered around her head, ready to give moral support and coaching. One doctor had planted himself between her stirupped legs, ready to catch. Two more circled in the distance, ready with morphine and varying tools of torture. A small horde of scientists watched in an observational lounge on the other side of a one-way mirror. And Dib was getting impatient.

The catcher noticed a certain movement from his view inside. “Ok, Sir, start pushing.”

Membrane bore down…

And nearly passed out from the sheer agony. Nothing should be that big. She pulled herself out of the fog of half-consciousness and tried again. Dimly she felt her nails digging into her palms, the screams tearing through her throat, the slice of a scalpel enlarging her canal…

Simmons climbed onto the operating table and straddled her upper belly. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her into some form of consciousness. “Mem, get up! You’ve gotta finish this!”

Membrane opened her glazed eyes and scrunched them shut as she pushed again. She vaguely heard the catcher from in between her legs call for one more, just one more. She tried but nothing happened.

Simmons watched as she started to collapse, Dib’s abnormally large head hanging oddly between her legs. He thought of something. He placed his hands over the top of her belly and pressed gently. “C’mon Mem, push, please?”

She groaned and tried again. Simmons pressed down as she pushed and slowly Dib slid out.

As she passed out, she heard a baby’s cry and several shouts of “Success!”

-----

The first thing she saw were a pair of amber eyes, identical to her own, staring at her. She smiled and took the baby Simmons was handing her. “Hello Dib.”

Dib blinked at her and wiggled.

Simmons laid a hand on Membrane’s shoulder. “The geneticists believe he’ll do better if you breastfeed. Something about constantly imbibing the proper genetic material.”

Membrane gave him a look. “And how did they find out?”

He shrugged. “They figured it out. It wasn’t hard. They’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

“So what happens now?”

“Well, the world knows enough for now.”

They looked down at Dib cradled in the arms of his parent. He stared up at them with a gaze that pierced their souls.

Membrane shivered. This wasn’t just a clone, this was something… different. Something… more.

What have I done?

End Chapter 4
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