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  He was in the open country now. His white boots dirtied to a dingy brown around the edges as they kicked up dust with each step. The ground beneath him was cracked; baked from the sun, poisoned by the air. Here and there small shrubs protruded from between the plates of hardened earth, and occasionally there was a thin, scraggly tree. But this was all. The rest was desolate.

  Purple's thoughts had had a long time to run their course. He had accused himself of murder and found that he could not be both prosecutor and judge. He had called himself worthless and couldn't sue for slander. Finally he had told himself to kill himself and found the gun absent from his utility pack. Everything was a dead end. Best to keep walking.

  Where to? What for? Nothing mattered anymore.

  He became aware of a sound. His antennae perked up. It sounded like a voot runner.

  Purple snapped his head up just as it passed overhead, casting wind that flattened his antennae against his head. It zoomed ahead and began to slow, turning around, and descending.

  He watched in silence as the runner landed, casting fierce wind in all directions. Purple had a good idea who was inside the ship, and it'd be pointless --nay, foolish-- to run. It wasn't that he couldn't escape, but it'd be a very bad idea if he did.

  The ship quieted, and the domed window slid back. Clutching at the side of the opening and bowing down to climb through, the red-eyed Tallest stepped through the frame and stood up straight on the cracked ground.

  "Red!" Purple cried despite himself. He could barely keep himself from running towards the figure.

  Red was dressed in the black bodysuit like the ones they had worn during their measuring, trimmed with crimson. The arms of the bodysuit stopped in the middle of Red's forearms, and the legs stopped at the knees. The black boots weren't the sleek sort that soldiers wore, but heavy duty buckle-up boots stopping at the middle of the shins.

  He carried a gun as well. This he laid down carefully just inside the door of the runner. It appeared that Red figured he wouldn't need it, but as the Tallest advanced it was noticed he had not closed the window of the ship after him. The words 'just in case' were sung mockingly in Purple's head.

  "Are we having fun?" Red called. He had stopped advancing when he and Purple were about thirty feet from each other.

  Purple realized he wasn't offended. He ought to have been, logically, but he wasn't. He just felt... tired. The Irken just wanted to go home...

  But a part of him screamed in rebellion. Purple found his voice saying, "I don't know what you expect to accomplish by coming here, but--"

  His rust-eyed twin cut him short. "I've received word from the western cities that Zim's mecha has run out of fuel. Local authorities have placed him and his crew into custody. He's not going to destroy anything more, Purple."

  When this had sunk in, Purple nodded weakly. "Will you have him killed?"

  "No."

  "He's guilty of high treason!"

  "No, just astronomical stupidity."

  Purple diverted the subject. "But he'll be gone now. The most he can be got rid of, anyway. So you'll go back to your kingdom and things will go back to normal, and..."

  "The empire is dying. It has been since before we were born, Purple. It's the reason we were born. You, anyway. I was just a fre--"

  "Don't say it!" Purple snapped, violet eyes glowing fiercely. "Don't you dare say it! The true king is the one that gets crowned, isn't that right? It doesn't matter who came first. It's you they want."

  Red's antennae lowered against his head. His eyes narrowed. "You just want to escape from responsibility! I shouldn't have let you go, back there in the city. This is who you are, dammit! It doesn't matter whether you like it!"

  Purple backed away. Red advanced for as many steps as he retreated. Finding it useless, Purple stopped again. "If I'm really equal in power to you, then let me decide for myself who I want to be!" he cried.

  "Contrary to what you might think, Purple," Red spat the name, "refusing to make a decision by running away is not a decision itself. Not here, not for this! All you're doing is shoving the responsibility on someone else. On me."

  "Tallests always acted alone before."

  "Yeah, and you wanna know something that the history data-feeds don't talk about? A lot of them lived very painful lives. A lot of them went insane! The Tallest is always the most helplessly alone person on Irk. And just once, all that pressure was divided among two, and you just dump it all on me and leave!"

  "You let me--!"

  "I shouldn't have! Mother of Irk, I shouldn't have! And listen to me, Purple..."

  Red advanced again, heavy boots stomping on the dry earth. Purple's body shook; he tried moving his legs to get away, but he seemed stunned. He couldn't get himself to look away from his brethren's eyes.

  "...You and I have both come too far to get stopped now," the Tallest said, stopping a mere few feet away from Purple. He stood with his feet apart and angled, black gloves on his nonexistent hips. "Everyone in the government is expecting us to fail. They were riding on the chance that something like Zim would turn up. It did, and now look. The capital's... the capital is ruined. So are a lot of other cities. But he's caught now! And we'll get rid of him! We could sign a treaty with FoodCourtia or something. And then..."

  "What are you getting at?" Purple growled.

  "How do you stop an avalanche, Purple?"

  Purple's brow furrowed, first in confusion and then in deep thought. "Estimate the area the avalanche will occupy, set up heat barriers to melt the snow, collect the water to channel into production plants to be chemically engineered into a useful product and-- Why am I answering this?"

  Red grinned, perhaps inappropriately. "Because that's the solution! I couldn't've thought of it, but you did. We'll stop Operation Impending Doom from causing us more harm than good, collect what useful resources we get out of it, and plan for another day."

  The violet-eyed Irken scowled. "It's not that simple."

  His brethren spread his arms wide. "Then help me fine-tune it!"

  "No!" Purple shrieked, forcing himself to take a step back. "Don't you get it, Red? I can't handle being a Tallest! I grew up believing I was never going to be one! Don't you see? I expected to die when our six years were up. I was counting on it. And then when you learned we were the same height, you couldn't kill me!

  "You let me stay alive! I hate you!"

  Purple hunched forward, head hung. He kept his eyes shut so tightly it hurt. He was shaking violently and it was hurting to breathe.

  Two thin hands placed themselves on Purple's slender shoulders. He felt a warmth and slight pressure against his forehead, and heard Red's quiet breath. He snapped his violet eyes open and saw no more than a few short inches from him Red's own face, eyes closed solemnly.

  A calm seemed to pass over Purple. The trembling stopped. He shut his eyes again, and his antennae relaxed.

  "Teir," Red said somberly. "Teir, Teir, Teir..."

  The name sounded so alien. Purple had to pause to remember who it had belonged to. When the memory struck him, he felt the strength flow out of him. He wanted to collapse. "S-Sorun..." Purple said weakly.

  "I don't know what's going on in my head," Red said, slowly and carefully, "that's making me think like this. Think isn't even the right word. We both know what the right word is, but I don't want to say it. Sut said once that if both people know what's trying to be said, there's no point in putting words to it...

  "But it's just that when you went away, I didn't feel like myself anymore. I felt half my brain was gone. Like half my nerve endings had gone dead. It was terrible."

  Purple found he wanted to say he had felt likewise, even if it wasn't true. He'd simply felt suicidal.

  Red continued, "Right now, even though you're with me, we're still apart. It hurts. Purple... Teir... You're the only one I had for years and years. And most Tallests don't have anyone. I had you. I don't want you to go away, because I..."

  The crimson Tallest's voice was beginning to crack.

  "Don't cry," said Purple sharply, eyes still shut. Red smallowed and gave a small sound of concession.

  "And I know what you'd suggest, but it wouldn't work. We'd never last out here. We don't know how, and even if we did everyone would be out to get us. All a king can ever be is a king. He isn't born to be anything else.

  "But I'm sure that we can make this empire work. I can see how to. Mother of Irk, how I can see it... But I can't do it alone. I need you. So... So please stay, won't you? It'll all work out if you..."

  Purple slinked out of Red's grasp. He took two steps back. Red's eyes were wide in astonishment. Purple could see the beginnings of fear in those rust-red eyes.

  "The public just loves you, because you look like Rarg," said Purple nastily. "Nevermind that I'd look like Rarg too if it wasn't for these eyes... But everyone adores you, and no one sees that you're really a whimpering moron who almost needs help feeding himself when he's in a bad enough state. And for all that I hate seeing you get away with something like that, if I'm not there to correct you, this whole empire's done for. Am I right?"

  Purple smiled and extended a white gloved hand. Red's eyes crinkled as he returned the expression, and he met his twin's hand with his own. There were a total of four fingers between the two.

  And then it happened. The rush of feeling had become too much for the dam to hold, and it broke. With one futile attempt to grab on to Red's extended arm for support, Purple fell to his knees and doubled over. And, for the first time since as an infant and last time in his life, Purple cried.