by Gord Zajac
Karnage recognized the familiar attack pattern of fingers and toes flying at him from all directions. He tried to dodge, tried to defend himself, but the spacesuit slowed him down.
He felt a touch to the small of his back, and his legs buckled. A second touch to his shoulder shot pain up and down his spine, temporarily paralyzing him as he fell hard to the ground. He quickly rolled onto his back, his entire body screaming in agony. The Intelligence as Sydney sprang up onto his body, and perched on her pinky toes on his chest. Karnage could barely gasp and wheeze as she stood over him, her squiggly eyes glinting.
“Well, that wasn’t exactly fair, now was it, Major? Those touches should have killed you. And yet, you live. Your spacesuit turned out to be of use to you after all. Oh well. Live and learn. I’ll be sure to apply a bit firmer pressure this time. Say goodbye, Major.”
Karnage looked up into those squiggly eyes. He was overwhelmed by their malevolence, their sheer self-assured arrogance.
“You’ve got to use your head, Major.”
Karnage took in what breath he could, and he laughed. It was barely a wheezy chuckle, but he laughed. The Intelligence cocked Sydney’s head to one side. “You find this all funny, do you? I’ll be interested to see how much you laugh with my next blow. It should be quite excruciating. A real scream.”
Karnage shook his head. “Go ahead. Do your worst, cuz the joke’s gonna be on you. You’re so cocksure. So goddamn full of yourself. So sure of your own infallibility. Oh, go ahead and kill me and make sure I’m in agony. Make it last a long, long time. Cuz I want to savour this moment, you little fuckmonkey.
“You never found a better choice than me. You were duped. Bamboozled. Cookie figured out a way to use your own damn arrogance against you. I get it now. Oh, I get how he did it. And it’s a thing o’ beauty. The kind of thing only somebody like Cookie would see.
“You think you’re better than me. Thought you could do better than some crazy old man locked up in an insane asylum. I think I damn well offended your sensibilities. Hell, you probably hung your head in shame when you saw I was the best the Earth had to offer. You couldn’t stand it, could you? And old Cookie, all he had to do was whisper that sweet poison in your ear: ‘Here’s someone better. Here’s someone a little more to your likin’.’ And you fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker. What a dupe. Oh, what a dupe.
“So go ahead. Kill me. Destroy your perfect host. Considerin’ all the time and effort you put into finding little old insignificant me, I’m thinkin’ you need the host to be perfect. Otherwise, why go with me? Why not a Dabney? I bet they were linin’ up to volunteer. No. You need me for some reason. I don’t get what, but you do. But it don’t matter, does it? Cuz you’re gonna kill me anyway.”
“You lie,” the Intelligence said. “You’re trying to save your life.”
Karnage shook his head. “Nope. Wrong again. It ain’t me I’m tryin’ to save. It’s Sydney. Let her go. She ain’t a good match. She’s a tight fit, remember? You’re not gonna wear her in. You’re just gonna wear her out. And what happens then? Shit, I’d love to see that. Love to see you with egg on your face. You’ll probably spew some bullshit to cover your ass, but that won’t matter. Cuz I know—I know right now. So you torture me all you like, cuz I’m gonna laugh my ass off the whole time. I’m gonna laugh my way right to hell.”
The Intelligence looked suspiciously at Karnage from behind Sydney’s eyes. Karnage went on: “You got ways of checkin’ this, don’t you? I’m sure someone as high and mighty as you must have some way of sniffin’ out a primitive old mind like Cookie’s. Go on. Give it a shot. See for yourself if I’m wrong.”
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.
CHAPTER EIGHT
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 wor
k 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 . . .
The strand snapped, curling up into the core of Karnage’s psyche, hiding within the last chunk of himself that still remained. A tiny vault, firmly held shut, stuck away in the darkest corner of his mind. The remains of the strand leaked out, but without the glue that held them together, they cluttered together into a collage of random thoughts with little meaning.
. . . I have learned to work within my limitations you just gotta use your head you should learn to do the same I have learned to work within my limitations you just gotta use your head you should learn to do the same . . .
The squiggles found the vault—little more than a safe deposit box—and Karnage felt fingers pulling at its seams, trying to force it to give up its secrets. It leaked the rest of the strand fragments, like radiation from a leaky nuclear reactor.
. . . I have learned to work within my limitations you just gotta use your head you should learn to do the same I have learned to work within my limitations you just gotta use your head you should learn to do the same . . .
The squiggles tore deeper and harder at the safe deposit box, slipping into the cracks, trying to pull it open. It leaked wisps of feelings and emotions, so powerful and terrifying that Karnage could almost remember them. But it wasn’t him that was remembering: it was his lizard brain. The primal beast inside that lay dormant, that only emerged when it could break free. There was something that would let it go, but Karnage couldn’t remember what it was. He tried to concentrate on the words leaking from the box, tried to decipher their meaning:
. . . I have learned to work within my limitations you just gotta use your head you should learn to do the same you just gotta use your head . . .
And then it hit him.
. . . you just gotta use your head . . .
Karnage stopped fighting. The squiggles tore apart the last of his mental blocks, ripping open the black box, releasing the lizard brain, and revealing Karnage’s locked away memories of . . .
THE WAR!
Bullets and brains and smoke and death poured out into the squiggles, overwhelming them. The squiggles pushed back, twitching in fury, trying to sift through the chaos, put it all back in the box, but they were thrown into disarray again and again, as the vestiges of Karnage’s lizard brain overwhelmed them with its primal rage—and with them, the Intelligence.
What’s going on? It cried. What’s happening?
You’re supposed to be smart, Karnage thought. You figure it out.
Somewhere through the noise, Karnage could feel his Sanity Levels rocketing upwards, faster than they had ever gone before, each level upgrade truncating the next. He could feel the Intelligence’s panic—its dread as the levels rose higher and higher.
You know what happens when I hit Tricycle Red, Karnage thought.
It won’t affect me! The Intelligence screeched. You’ll just kill yourself! I’ll still live! I’ll still live!
Sure you will, Karnage thought. But it will hurt like hell, won’t it?
It doesn’t matter! It cried. I will return! I always return! Your death will be meaningless.
Yeah, but I’ll give you one hell of a bloody nose in the process, won’t I?
You won’t do it to yourself! You can’t! The Intelligence started to panic. You won’t let yourself die like this! You’re a fighter! A warrior! It’s not your way. YOU CAN’T!
Karnage heard his Sanity Patch hit Strawberry Shortcake. He grabbed control of his face and forced his mouth into a manic grin. “Wanna bet, monkeyfucker?”
NO!
Karnage’s head burst, and everything went black.
CHAPTER NINE
Karnage’s vision cleared, and he found himself kneeling on the floor, panting for breath. The squiggles had disappeared. The presence in his head was gone.
He looked over at the Nucleus resting on its lone tendril. It throbbed with green energy. The Intelligence had returned to it. But something was wrong. He could hear it screaming in his head. “THE WARRR! THE WARRR!”
Karnage winced, ready for his lizard brain to launch into fury. But it didn’t.
He could still remember The War, but the rage he had long associated with those memories was gone. It was as if it had been ripped from his brain when the Intelligence had pulled out of his mind.
“THE WARRR! THE WARRR!”
Karnage could still remember being the Intelligence. He knew that his lizard brain wouldn’t preoccupy the Intelligence for long. It would be like a cold, or a chill. Eventually the squiggles would figure out how to route around the damage, and the Intelligence would return stronger than before.
He had to act fast.
Karnage tugged the glowing Nucleus from its holder, the Intelligence still screaming in his head.
“THE WARRR! THE WARRR!”
He grabbed the discarded rocket. He picked up his goober gun
and aimed it at the floor. He fired.
“THE WARRR! THE WARRR!”
He dipped the tip of the rocket into the expanding ball of goober and pulled out a gooey glob. He slapped the Nucleus into the goober before it solidified.
“THE WARRR! THE WARRR!”
With a final crackle, the goober hardened, gluing the Nucleus to the tip of the rocket. Karnage reloaded the rocket into the launcher. He locked the helmet back onto his suit, then slung both the goober rifle and rocket launcher firmly over each shoulder.
“THE WARRR! THE WARRR!”
He grabbed the energy spear, and with the last of the Intelligence’s memories, fired it at one of the translucent hatches. The energy ball vaporized the grey translucent film.
Then the vortex of space sucked him out of the ship.
Karnage spun through the black. He let go of the spear, and pulled the goober rifle from his shoulder. He pointed the rifle in the opposite direction of his spin, and fired several rounds. He slowed down to a gentle twirl. He dropped the goober rifle, and pulled the rocket launcher off his other shoulder. He brought the sight up to his visor.
He waited until his slow spin put the flashing red cross-hair over the glowing orb of the sun, then fired.
He flew backward as the rocket shot forward, carrying the frenetically glowing Nucleus towards the sun. Some vestige of the Intelligence’s psyche reminded him about gravity wells and fusion and only being able to convert energy rather than destroying it. But at this point, so much of the Intelligence was gone from his psyche that it all just sounded like bullshit to him.
Karnage aimed a middle finger in the direction of the disappearing rocket.
“Burn in hell, monkeyfucker,” he said.
CHAPTER TEN
Karnage drifted through the pitch black of space. Tiny stars glittered in the distance.
He closed his eyes.
Whatever happened from here on in, he couldn’t give a shit. To hell with the Sanity Patch. To hell with the Dabney Corporation, the Nagasaki Treaties, and the whole goddamn planet.