Gord Zajac - Major Karnage

The Sanity Patch buzzed again. “Warning. Sanity Level upgraded to Sandy Dreams. Please refrain from violent behaviour.”

“You are not thinking long-term,” the drone said.

Karnage rounded on the drone. “I am thinking long-term! The problem is my long-term goal is still pretty goddamn violent!”

“That is because you continue to let your lizard brain drive you. Think, Major. Engage your rational thought process. Why is violence necessary? What is driving you to be violent?”

Karnage took a breath and closed his eyes. He wanted to stop the alien menace. He’d never really thought about why. It was just what he did. He’d always looked for another fight. Always craved another battle. But why? Was he such a prisoner of his lizard brain that he didn’t have a better reason? Why was stopping the invasion so important to him? Was it saving the world? No, what had the world ever done for him? Think, soldier. Think! What do you care if the world burns? It sure as shit hasn’tcared about you. Why do you care? What does it matter?

And then it hit him.

Cookie. Velasquez. Heckler. Stumpy. Koch.

Karnage opened his eyes. He gave Sydney a hard shove. She staggered back.

The Sanity Patch stayed silent.

The drone squealed. “Most impressive, Major! Most impressive!”

“I’m a quick study,” Karnage said.

“Says you,” said Sydney, rubbing her shoulder. “When do I get to push back?”

“In due time, my dear. In due time. We must complete our undergraduate degree before we move to our master’s thesis.” The drone’s lens flashed in the sun. “Let’s resume our classes on the fairground, shall we?”

The fairground was full of abandoned carnival games, frayed canopies over splintering wooden booths. The counters were chipped and pitted. Rows of nails where cheap prizes used to hang lined the walls of the booths.

Karnage hefted the softball in his fist, his thumb sliding over its shiny leather. He squinted his eyes at the dusty pyramid of milk bottles and threw. The pyramid exploded in a sea of tumbling bottles. His Sanity Patch buzzed.

“Warning. Sanity Level upgraded to Peachy Keen. Please refrain from violent behaviour.”

“As I said, you are not ready. Return to your practise.”

Karnage scowled. Sydney tossed him the softball. “Just relax and try to enjoy yourself,” she said.

“I feel like an idiot,” Karnage tossed the ball back. “What am I, twelve?”

She returned the throw. “We’re just building up a sense memory.”

“Yes.” The drone restacked the milk bottles on the platform. “The sense memory will aid you in channelling a calm, rational state from which you may draw the necessary motivation to perform this act of violence.”

“We better hurry up and build it, cuz my arm is about to fall off here,” Karnage said.

“Do you wish to try and make another attempt?”

“I do.”

“Very well.”

Karnage aimed the ball at the beakers, and threw. The bottles went flying and his Sanity Patch buzzed. “Warning. Sanity Level upgraded to Tangy Orange. Please refrain—”

“Sonofabitch!”

“Lashing out only fuels your lizard brain,” the drone said.

“The lizard brain can go fuck itself.”

“If you truly wish for the lizard brain to go and ‘fuck itself,’ then you must embrace your conscious self, and let go your instincts. Channel your sense memory. Focus on your long-term goal. Embrace the Eleventh Sense.”

Karnage aimed the ball at the bottles. He closed his eyes. Cookie. Velasquez. Heckler. Stumpy. Koch.

Karnage opened his eyes and threw. The bottles exploded in all directions. The Sanity Patch stayed silent.

The drone squealed. “Excellent, Major. Most excellent!”

Karnage looked at the fallen bottles. “Take that, you fuckin’ lizard.”

Karnage stood before the WAK-A-KAT game. He hefted the giant mallet in his fists, and eyed the holes. Dabby Tabby’s wide grinning face was just visible in the gloom of each hole. He looked up at the drone.

“Do it.”

The drone pulled a switch. Carnival music started up. Lights around the machine flashed, and Dabby Tabby’s grinning face popped out of one of the holes. Karnage smashed it with the mallet.

His neck buzzed. “Warning. Sanity Level upgraded to Sharp Cheddar. Please refrain from violent behaviour.”

“Dammit!” Karnage stepped away from the machine like a frustrated batter stepping away from the plate, swinging his mallet.

“Perhaps that is enough for today,” the drone said.

“No. I can do this.” He rolled his shoulders and shook out his arms. “Start it up again.”

The music cranked up and the lights flashed. Dabby Tabby popped up in the middle hole. Cookie. Karnage struck the head back down. The Sanity Patch stayed silent.

Dabby Tabby’s head popped up in the corner. Velasquez. Karnage banged it back down. The Sanity Patch didn’t complain.

Two Dabby heads popped up in the middle row. Karnage knocked them down in quick succession. Heckler. Koch. Another head was just starting to rise before the head of the mallet smashed it back down. Stumpy. The music’s rhythm increased. Dabby heads popped up faster and faster as the lights increased their pace. Karnage knocked them all down, repeating his mantra with each mallet blow. Cookie. Velasquez. Heckler. Koch. Stumpy. Cookie. Velasquez. Heckler. Koch. Stumpy. There was no buzzing. No crooning voices. Nobody’s head blew off.

The game reached a crescendo. A buzzer went off, and a blast of confetti shot from the top of the machine. “HIGH SCORE!” it screeched.

The drone squealed. “Excellent! Most excellent! I was not expecting you to make such quick progress. I do believe you have finally completed your undergraduate degree. You have come very far very quickly, but you still have a long way to go. You must now take this training to the next level, and move to a live opponent.”

“Is this where I’m supposed to volunteer?” Sydney said.

“In a manner of speaking,” the drone said. “I suggest you rest up tonight, Major. Think on what you have learned.”

“Why stop now? I’ve come so far. I’m ready for more.”

“Yes, but your Sanity Patch however is starting to become a little… overheated, shall we say?” The drone tapped on the flashing orange screen. “It would be best if it were to get a fresh start tomorrow. I have provided you with sleeping quarters in the water tower. I bid you adieu until the morn.”

The drone flew up and off, heading for the concrete aquarium bunkers.

Karnage turned to Sydney. “I hope you don’t snore.”

Karnage lay in his cot, staring out the bay window. The sky was a pale midnight blue. Stars winked and twinkled over the broken skeletal silhouettes of the park. He wondered how many of those stars were hostile. He clenched his fists, then remembered what Cookie had told him. I’m trying to do like you said, Cookie. I’m trying to use my head. I only hope I can get it under control before it’s too late. Before…

Sydney rustled in the next cot. She turned to look at him. “What’s up?”

“What do you mean?” Karnage asked.

“You’re breathing heavy,” Sydney said. “Through your nose. Means you’re pissed about something.”

“It does?”

“Yeah. You never noticed that before?”

“No.”

“Well, you do. So what’s up?”

“Just thinkin’ about the squidbugs,” Karnage said. “Hope I can stop ’em before it’s too late.”

“You know how you’re gonna do that yet?”