Major Karnage

by Gord Zajac

  “Intuition, the oft-cited and poorly understood Sixth Sense which unthinkingly pulls from the first five senses and manifests as a ‘gut reaction.’ In essence, this is your lizard brain.

  “Logic, the Seventh Sense, is an understanding and application of the underlying mathematics and order of the universe as well as our place within it. The Seventh Sense is the level at which we first truly begin to experience consciousness.

  “Emotion, the Eight Sense, is an awareness of one’s own emotions and emotional states, as manifested by the five Primary Senses in conjunction with the Sixth and Seventh Senses.

  “Above the Secondary Senses, we have the Tertiary Senses. Sensitivity, which relates to an awareness of others’ emotional states and how our own emotions affect them, as well as the creatures around us. Acuity, the Tenth Sense, is the sharpening of the previous nine senses into finely honed points of—”

  “This sounds like a lot of bullshit to me,” Karnage said. “Of course it does,” the drone said. “That is because you haven’t mastered them.”

  Karnage threw up his hands. “Okay, now I know you’re full of shit.” He walked towards the door.

  “I have the mathematical proofs to support my theories,” the drone called after him. “I can show them to you if you like.”

  Sydney caught up with Karnage. “Where are you going?”

  “To get some fresh air.” Karnage glowered at the drone. “It’s startin’ to smell in here.”

  Sydney blocked his way. “Major, wait.”

  “What?”

  “I know it sounds crazy—”

  “It doesn’t just sound crazy.” Karnage shouted at the drone. “It is crazy!”

  “Any crazier than an alien invasion?”

  Karnage looked at Sydney. He shrugged. “Maybe just a little.”

  “Look, I know how it sounds, but trust me. Uncle knows what he’s talking about.”

  “He sure as hell doesn’t sound like it.”

  “Remember when you asked me to trust you?”

  “Yeah, and you didn’t.”

  “That’s right. I didn’t. And it nearly got us killed. Don’t make the same mistake I did. He knows what he’s talking about.” She flipped up a pinky finger. “Where do you think I learned how to fight?”

  Karnage looked at the drone, then back at Sydney. “Him?”

  Sydney nodded. “Yes, him. He has a strange way of looking at things, but it works. Trust me, okay?”

  Karnage looked at Sydney’s outstretched pinky. He nodded. “Okay.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “All right, Unk,” Karnage said. “You got up to the Tenth Sense. What’s number eleven?”

  “The Eleventh Sense is the most vital of them all. It is the culmination of the other ten senses into a cohesive whole.”

  “I thought that was Acuity?”

  “No,” the drone said. “Acuity is the honing of the nine individual senses into separate focus. The Eleventh Sense channels those nine points of focus into a cohesive whole. I call it Spirituality.”

  “Spirituality? What, am I supposed to find religion now? Let me tell you somethin’, Unk. The last religion I found tried to feed me to a giant fucking worm!”

  The drone wagged a tendril. “Do not confuse religion with the spiritual. Religion is a strictly human construct, designed to oppress the senses. It is geared specifically towards engaging the lizard brain. Spirituality, on the other hand, is the strict application of the scientific method to empirical data collected from all ten senses. So, while it can technically be argued that the Eleventh Sense is nothing more than the carefully synthesized application of ten senses, there is an even stronger argument that the whole is indeed far greater than the sum of its parts.”

  Karnage shot Sydney a doubtful look. “Okay, so how do I master this Eleventh Sense?”

  “Oh it takes years of training to fully master the Eleven Senses. Which is why we will be attempting no such thing. Instead, I will teach you the equivalent of a series of parlour tricks. You don’t need to understand all facets of human physiology to learn how to defeat a so-called ‘lie’ detector. Nor will you need a degree in neuroscience to learn how to defeat the workings of the Sanity Patch.”

  “So what do I have to do?”

  “You must learn to stop acting on instinct, and embrace your conscious self. No more gut reactions. No more split decisions. They could cost you your life. In a word, don’t feel—think!”

  Karnage balked. “You want me to think?”

  “Is that a problem for you?”

  “You’re goddamn right it is! I spent my whole life in the military. You’re taught not to think! Thinking gets you killed! It slows you down! You learn to rely on muscle memory. It keeps you alive. I can’t just throw all that away!”

  “Yes. Your lizard brain is very well trained. So well trained, in fact, that it will most assuredly kill you if you continue down this path. You must undrill what has been drilled. Do not succumb to your primal urges. Make rational choices. Not thinking is now what will get you killed. You must learn to engage your upper brain functions. Do not mindlessly react to the impulses of the lizard brain. Take a moment. Listen to what the lizard brain wants you to do. Then, process it through the limbic lobe. Reason out why it is necessary to do what the lizard brain desires. Then, act—with direction and purpose—comfortable in the knowledge that you are in fact making a rational choice.”

  “Okay, wait a minute. Hold on. Let me see if I get this,” Karnage said. “If I feel like I need to punch somebody in the mouth, I need to stop, think up a good reason why I should punch them, and then just . . . go ahead and punch ’em in the mouth?”

  “A crude way of putting it, but essentially, yes.”

  “Isn’t that just doing the same thing?”

  The drone pointed an excited tendril at Karnage. “That is the intrinsic subtlety of the Eleventh Sense, and is the essence of the parlour trick. So long as you can logically reason that there is no rational alternative, then your course of action is free and clear. The inevitability of the desired action is the crucial piece in this puzzle. The keystone, if you will. Break the rock—not because of an urge to commit violence, but because it is a rational necessity required for you to achieve your goal.”

  “It’s like the difference between punching a wall in anger, and a boxer throwing a punch in the ring,” Sydney said. “A good one, anyway.”

  “All right,” Karnage rubbed his chin. “I think I get it. So what do I get to practise my punches on?”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Sydney stood facing Karnage in the central square of the park. She gave him the evil eye. “You want to make any snide remarks about me being your punching bag?”

  Karnage shook his head. “Nope. Not a one.”

  The drone floated down between them. “Rest assured, no one will be punching anyone. Not yet, at any rate. We will start small. Major, please place your hand on Sydney’s shoulder.”

  Karnage did.

  “Now, step forward, keeping your elbow locked, and your hand firmly on her shoulder.”

  Karnage kept his arm locked as he took a step forward. Sydney took a step back to keep her balance. His Sanity Patch was silent.

  The drone’s lens flashed in the sun. “Excellent! Now again. Faster this time.”

  Karnage took a quick step forward. He pushed Sydney two steps back. His Sanity Patch stayed silent.

  “Most excellent! Now, again. Faster.”

  Karnage’s step became a lunge. Sydney stumbled back a few steps.

  “Good,” the drone said. “Now, this time, you will push with the same momentum. Only this time, you will use only your arm.”

  Karnage gave Sydney a hard shove. The Sanity Patch buzzed. “Warning. Sanity Level upgraded to Frothy Cream. Please refrain from violent behaviour.”

  The drone tsked. “Concentrate on your emotional state. Remember: you are not striking your opponent. It is but a firm push. Necessity requires you to move her, usin
g nothing but your open palm.”

  “Wouldn’t it be a lot easier if I just asked her politely to move?”

  “Yes, but that would defeat the purpose of the exercise. Concentrate on the objective.”

  “The objective’s kind of dumb,” Karnage said. “I’m pushin’ her pretty hard. I know it. She knows it. We all know it. It’s pretty much a shove, and in my books, a shove is a precursor to violence.”

  “Mine, too,” Sydney said.

  The drone’s lens zoomed in and out impatiently. “Which is why we are attempting to skip over that particular chapter in your internal book. That is the crux of the trick. Focus on your longterm goal. Why are you attempting this? Why is it important you can accomplish this? It goes far beyond the short-term goal of completing the exercise itself. What is it you hope to achieve, Major? Concentrate on that.”

  Karnage closed his eyes and tried to think long-term. I need to kick some squidbug ass. He opened his eyes and gave Sydney another shove.

  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?”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  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.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  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.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  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 ha
d 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?”

  “No,” Karnage said. “Figure I should work on gettin’ my own head worked out first.”

  “You plan to do it all single-handed?” Sydney asked.

  Karnage shrugged. “I dunno.”

  “There’s kind of a lot of ’em.”

  “Yeah,” Karnage said. “There is.” He looked over at Sydney through the gloom. She was barely a lump in her cot. “You interested in givin’ me a hand?”

  “Hell, no,” Sydney said. “Once you’re better, I’m gonna arrest your ass.”

  “Still?”

  She sat up, grinning. “Oh hell, yeah. I still got my career to think about, after all.”

  “So how do you think they’ll react when you bring me into that precinct again?” Karnage said.

  Sydney shrugged and lay back on her cot. “I don’t know. Probably throw me a ticker tape parade. Give me a medal. You know, the usual.”

  “Uh huh. And what about all that stuff about you breakin’ me outta my cell and tryin’ to kick my ass? Think they’ll just overlook all that?”

  She stuck her hands behind her head. “Oh, for sure. I mean, it’s nothing. I only helped you escape, is all. Not on purpose, of course. You know, it just kinda happened. I’m sure they’ll understand.”