Gord Zajac - Major Karnage

The Intelligence made Sydney scowl. Green energy blasts shot out of her hair and up through the pipes. The pipes all glowed, flowing back and forth, coursing with activity, becoming more and more frenetic until a single little line of white streaked up out of the green. It shot through the green and back into Sydney’s hair. The Intelligence made Sydney scream in fury.

“See? You’re not so shit hot after all, are you? Just another blowhard, tryin’ to act like you’re all god this and infinite that. But you’re nothin’. Cuz I’m right here, and you ain’t inside of me.

“So come on, buddy. Let’s go. You and me: brain to brain. Cerebro a cerebro. Quit hidin’ inside her, and let me see what you’re really made of.”

The Intelligence filled Sydney’s face with hate, and then her eyes rolled into the back of her head before she dropped to the ground.

A railroad spike slammed into Karnage’s brain, splitting it in half. His vision clouded over as a strange voice inside his head reverberated strongly in his ears.

Ah, you were so right, Major. This is much more comfortable.

A jagged streak of squiggles tore across Karnage’s eyes. His head throbbed. He felt the Intelligence stab needles through his brain, pulling apart his mind from the inside. The walls of his consciousness were caving in. His vision was a jumble of vibrating squiggles. Only a tiny corner of his eyes were his own. He struggled up on all fours. His body refused to work properly as it tried to process orders from two separate consciousnesses. He tried to crawl around the room, barely aware of what his own body was actually doing. Pain coursed through his head, ricocheting from one lobe to the other.

The squiggles populated and multiplied, filling every corner of his mind. He recognized each for what it was: a million and one communications to every part of the ship—to every part of the invasion. Even from this far out in space, the Intelligence continued to calmly give out its orders. He caught glimpses of Velasquez and Koch firing round after round into an oncoming horde of squidbugs that poured out of the hatchways. He saw the floating bodies of Darla and Upchuck in their spheres as the alien DNA slowly went to work beneath their skin, experimenting with new shapes and forms. Faint strands of white were also visible through the morass of squiggles. He reached out to them, and they gave him strength. Karnage wasn’t sure if it was Cookie, or just his own mind trying to remind him of what he had to do.

Karnage was drowning in the Intelligence’s thoughts. He felt like he was swimming in the ocean in the middle of a hurricane, trying to navigate a never-ending barrage of roiling tidal waves. Karnage twisted his head, trying to see what he could of the oval chamber— the cerebral cortex of the invasion. He knew how all of the pieces worked. How the Nucleus provided more than just a safe haven from attack, but was also a gateway to other dimensions. Other realities. It was an anomaly unto itself, created long before the Intelligence first gained awareness as it had slipped from its own dimension into this one.

And then there were the memories of all the times before, on other worlds, where again and again beings of impossible varieties had tried to stop the Intelligence and its invasion. It had been dispersed by thousands of explosions over the years. Some with the power of a hydrogen bomb. Some with the power of a hand grenade. But the result was always the same: it coalesced, willed itself back into shape, and resumed its attack. Sometimes it took years to pull itself back together. Sometimes millenia. But it always came back. And it always won.

But there was something else that was clear as well: it always hurt. It hurt like hell to be dissipated by an explosion. And it would do anything to avoid that pain. It had bluffed Karnage, banking on his affection for Sydney not to fire that rocket. And it had worked.

But it couldn’t hide behind that bluster now. Karnage knew everything it knew. But if he didn’t figure out something fast, soon he wouldn’t know anything else. He was losing his mind to the Intelligence. He could feel his memories slipping away. He tried to hold on to what Cookie had told him:

“You just gotta use your head.”

But Karnage was losing his head. He was losing it fast. His mind was being sucked into the Intelligence, becoming an indistinguishable collection of squiggly synapses within its vast consciousness. He thought of what Sydney’s Uncle had told him:

“I have learned to work within my limitations. You should learn to do the same.”

But he was becoming more limited by the second as the squiggles ripped layer after layer of his psyche away.

Karnage did what he could to hold on. Pulled together the bits of himself that he could. The white strands pushed through the squiggles and fed into his mind, reciting his mantra to him: Cookie Velasquez Heckler Koch Stumpy Sydney. He joined its chorus, repeating it more forcefully than ever: Cookie Velasquez Heckler Koch Stumpy Sydney. Cookie Velasquez Heckler Koch Stumpy Sydney.

The Intelligence laughed at his feeble efforts, and rubbed out each name as the squiggles flayed them from his mind and incorporated them into the Intelligence’s psyche.

Cookie Velasquez Heckler Koch Sydney

Cookie Velasquez Heckler Sydney

Cookie Velasquez Sydney

Cookie Sydney

Sydney

Sydney

Sydney

He didn’t know why, but his mind wouldn’t give her up. Perhaps it was because she was still there where he could see her. Perhaps it was something else. Perhaps it was those persistent white strands. The squiggles poured in closer, and some of the white strands disappeared. But the few that remained kept pumping thoughts into him. They repeated her name louder and louder in his head: Sydney Sydney Sydney!

Karnage caught the tip of the energy spear in his vision. And suddenly he knew everything about it. He knew how it worked. It wasn’t a weapon at all. It was a teleportation device. Any target shot with it would be taken to central processing on the main ship where it would be analyzed, filed, sorted, and then put into storage before being pulled out whenever the Intelligence saw fit to do so. Karnage grabbed hold of the spear and flicked it on—it was so easy to do now. How was it that he had never figured it out before? He aimed a crackling ball of energy at Sydney and fired. She disappeared, leaving a smoking crater behind. Karnage knew she would be safe in central processing. At least for a while. Until the Intelligence was done with him. Until he could figure out what to do. Until he could figure out if he could do anything.

The white strands pumped more thoughts into his emptying mind: Good work, old man. We’re not beat yet. Remember what Cookie told you. It’s already in you. You just have to—

Karnage felt his vocal cords vibrate with laughter. The Intelligence forced him to speak words. “My, my, Major. You are surprisingly resilient. I haven’t had this much trouble absorbing a mind in quite a while. But I grow tired of this game and, really, there are just so many more interesting things for me to be doing, so…”

Karnage’s vision clouded over completely, his world filling with frenetic squiggles. The last of his consciousness was being stripped away; only a single strand of white remained. It grew taut as the squiggles moved in, trying to rip apart his last connection. But it held fast, vibrating like a plucked guitar string. It pumped as many thoughts into his mind as it could.

…come on old man don’t let that monkeyfucker win don’t make all our sacrifices useless remember how we took out General Mayhem it’s your only chance now old man remember what Cookie said remember what Uncle said come on old man come on…