Gord Zajac - Major Karnage

Karnage woke strapped to his bed. It was a welcome change from the straitjacket and the Hole, but the catheter still stung like a bitch and he had to scratch his nose something fierce. The sickly pink glow from the overhead fluorescents was giving him a headache. He shut his eyes. The smell of rotting piss and shit from dirty bed pans filled his nostrils.

So, Karnage thought, this is retirement.

He could hear Heckler’s hysterical laughter coming from elsewhere in the ward. One of the nurses—probably Fridge— barked at Heckler to shut the fuck up. There came a shout of “fuck you” from Velasquez, followed by a much more colourful stream of invectives in Spanish—the kind only Velasquez could conjure with that magic vocab of hers. Fridge—it was definitely Fridge—shouted at Velasquez. Velasquez shouted back. Karnage did his best to shut it all out. He knew where it was all going to end: sooner or later, out would come the stun gun, and after a long series of screams, Heckler and Velasquez would be electrocuted into silence.

Karnage felt movement near the foot of his bed. He ignored it. Whatever Fridge wanted, it could fucking well wait until he was good and ready. Even if it meant getting electrocuted.

“Major?” a voice whispered. It was Cookie. What was he doing out of bed? Karnage squinted one eye open. Cookie stood over Karnage’s bed, leaning on his IV drip, his head wrapped in bandages.

“Major,” Cookie whispered, “are you awake?”

Karnage half-opened his eyes. “Sit down next to me. Try not to be noticed. I don’t feel like dealing with these assholes yet.”

Cookie gave a half-nod and sat on the bed near Karnage’s head, turning his body away from Fridge.

“What’s on your mind, Corporal?”

“I finally got it figured out, sir.” Cookie looked around, making sure Fridge was well out of hearing range. He leaned in closer and in a low voice said, “I’m not crazy.”

“That a fact?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What about them voices you been hearing in your head?” Karnage said.

“That’s what I figured out. They ain’t voices. They’re communications.” Cookie tapped his bandages. “Figure it’s got something to do with these electronics in my head.”

“I thought the doc said those things’d clear up them voices?”

“Nah,” Cookie grinned. “They just clarified ’em. Cut out all the background noise.”

“That a fact?”

“Yes, sir, it is.”

“Hmm,” Karnage said. “What sort of communications you been getting, Corporal?”

Cookie leaned in close to Karnage’s ear and whispered. “They’re from outer space.”

“Outer space, eh?”

Cookie’s face fell. “You don’t believe me.”

Karnage looked Cookie straight in the eye. “Cookie, you ain’t never lied to me yet. No matter how crazy they say you are, and no matter how much they muck with your brain, I reckon you ain’t never gonna be able to tell a lie with a straight face. But I’d be lyin’ if I said I weren’t sceptical. Keep going. Communications from outer space. You been interceptin’ communiques from enemy spy satellites?”

“No, sir. See, this is where it gets interestin’. These communications? I think they’re comin’ from… aliens.”

“Aliens, eh?”

“I mean the extraterrestrial kind, sir.”

“I had a feelin’ that’s what you meant,” Karnage said. “What makes you think these communications are extraterrestrial in nature?”

“Well, sir, I done cracked every code known to man—from Navajojibwe to SuperSanskrit —and this ain’t like nothing I ever seen before.”

“Now that’s sayin’ something,” Karnage nodded. “Wait a minute. What do you mean ‘seen’? You been writing this stuff down, Corporal?”

Cookie took one last look around before rolling up his sleeve. Lines of jagged squiggles ran up and down his arm. “I been transcribin’ these here messages, Major.”

“They look like squiggles,” Karnage said.

Cookie nodded. “That’s exactly what they sound like, sir.”

“They sound like squiggles?”

“Yes, sir!”

“I don’t know, Cookie. They all look the same to me.”

Cookie grinned. “That’s what I thought, too, at first. Just random squiggly noises. But there’s a pattern to ’em. Took me forever to start noticing ’em, but that’s what I been trained to do. There’s all sortsa variations. You gotta listen carefully to pick ’em up.”

Karnage took another look at the markings on Cookie’s arm. They were red around the edges, like Cookie had been pressing too hard when he was writing it down. Probably scribbling like a madman to get it all down, Karnage thought. He still couldn’t see any differences. Karnage looked at Cookie’s earnest face.

“Cookie,” he said. “If anybody’s got the ears to pick up on that sort of stuff, it’s you. Go on, Corporal.”

Cookie beamed. He wriggled closer to Karnage’s head and pointed at the first squiggle on his wrist. “You see this here? This is how all the messages begin. It’s like a greetin’ or something. And this one right next to it? That always comes next. I think it’s a kinda confirmation code. Lets the sender know the transmission’s bein’ received.”

“They look the same to me,” Karnage said.

Cookie’s head bobbed up and down like a parakeet. “That’s what I thought, too. At first. But the second is tilted just three degrees to the left. See?

Karnage looked again. “Yeah, now that you mention it—wait a minute. This is all in your own handwritin’. How do you know it ain’t just yer scrawl that’s gone and tilted three degrees?”

Cookie stiffened. His voice was clipped. “Sir, I transcribed it exactly as I heard it, sir.”

“You mean to say you can hear a three degree tilt?”

Cookie nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Karnage looked Cookie up and down. “Cookie, you are impressin’ me all over again.”

Cookied relaxed. A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. He warmed to the subject. “I can’t make much sense outta the rest of it yet. Just seems like a lot o’ gobbledy-gook. But there’s certain patterns that keep popping up. I think it’s a numbering system.”

“Numbers, eh? Numbers for what?”

“Well, if I had to guess, I’d say they’re co-ordinates.”

Karnage’s pulse quickened. “What kind of co-ordinates?”

Cookie shrugged. “I don’t right know, Major.”

Karnage strained against his bonds. He desperately wanted to grab Cookie by the shoulders. “Could it be military targets? Some kind of tactical strike?”

Cookie hesitated. “I-I don’t really want to guess here, Major—”

“Guess, Corporal! Guess!”

“Now you gotta realize I’m just conjecturin’ here….”

“Cookie!”

Cookie leaned in within inches of Karnage’s ear. “Well, if I had to guess… I’m thinking these are plans for some kind of…” Cookie’s voice became the barest of whispers. “…invasion.”

Invasion!

The word set off fireworks in Karnage’s brain. His ears burned. His blood pumped hot and fast through his body.

He always knew this would happen. There would always be another battle. Always had been. Always would be. It had just been a matter of time. And now, after all these years, that time had finally come.