Major Karnage (15 page)

“You, my good Captain, are about to become the Messiah.”

Tristan read from her book. “‘And he who has truly heard The Word
shall step forward and show us The Light. The Guiding Light which
will show us The True Path. The True Path to Awaken The Worm
Within.’ Et cetera. Ad nauseam. It goes on for quite a while, but I
think you get the gist of things.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Have a look outside, Captain. You have brought us The Light.”

Karnage looked out at the floodlights shining in. “That is The Light?”

“Yes.”

“You sure about that?”

“Of course I’m sure. I helped write this book, you know. Why else do we call the generator building The Temple of Light?”

“But why didn’t anyone else figure it out? How come nobody else
fixed it first?”

“My dear Captain, you give these people far too much credit.

They’re mindless simpletons, easily led around by their noses. Leave
them to fend for themselves, and they’ll wander aimlessly, like cows
grazing in a field.”

There was another squiggly screech, followed by a scream.
“We are running out of time,” Tristan said. “You will be
summoned soon. When you are brought before Melvern, announce
that you are the Lightbringer at the earliest possible moment. Once
you have been proclaimed the Lightbringer, you will declare me as
your High Priestess.”

“Won’t Melvern object?”

“My dear Captain, Messiah trumps High Prophet every time.
Melvern won’t know what hit him. Just remember to go in there
and give a good performance. This will be broadcast all across
the compound. You don’t have quite the right look for television.
They prefer them younger, and much more charismatic, but it can’t
be helped. You do have a sort of sad quality about the eyes when
you’re not trying to look so angry. Try to play that up a bit. You’re
the underdog in this production. And everybody loves an underdog.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes. No matter what happens, no matter what they say to you, you
must remain calm. And stay on message. You are the Lightbringer.
You have brought the Light. If you repeat it often enough, it becomes
true. That is the magic of television. But only if you don’t lose your
temper. No one likes an angry monkey. Can you do that?”

“I’ll try.”

“That’s all I can ask of you, then. They’ll be coming for you soon.
Good luck, Captain.”

“It’s Major,” Karnage said.

Tristan let slip a small smile. “Is it now? Well then. Good luck,
Major.”

They took Karnage to the observation deck of the WTF. Panoramic
windows offered a wide view of the pock-marked ground in the
canyon below. Remnants of military vehicles lay strewn amidst
hillocks of churned earth. A throne stood upon the dais in front of
the central window. The room was filled with Spragmites holding
D-pads pointed at Karnage. Karnage caught sight of a shock of blue
hair off to one side. It was Melvern.

Melvern stood beside a Spragmite holding a microphone who
was interviewing him intensely. His face was broadcast on all of
the D-Pads hung around the room. He and the interviewer stood in
front of a green screen. The monitors around the deck showed them
standing in the middle of the testing grounds.

“High Prophet, it has been said that this is our strongest slate
of competitors yet. Would you agree?” The interviewer thrust the
microphone at Melvern.

Melvern wore a heavy layer of bronze foundation and thick black
eyeliner. He looked like a trampy hobo in person, but on the screens
behind him, he looked like a golden god. Melvern looked directly
into the lens, his gaze sucking in the viewer on the multiple screens.
“Miki, I’ve been judging this competition since its inception, and
I can say without a doubt that this is the strongest, brightest,
most talented slate of candidates we have ever seen. I will be very
surprised if the Arbiter doesn’t find someone who is Worthy this
year.”

“Do you have any favourites among this year’s candidates?”

The High Prophet laughed. “Honestly, it doesn’t matter what I
think at this point. It’s all up to the Arbiter now. As I said, these are
all worthy candidates, and if one of them isn’t picked I will truly be
surprised.” At this point, he took an exaggerated pause and then
shrugged. “But stranger things have happened. The opinions of
people like you and I no longer matter. It is now in the hands of The
Worm, and as you know . . .” He looked directly into the camera, his
blue eyes sparkling against the black eyeliner. He gestured towards
the screen with a single knuckle. “. . . The Worm is The Word.”

Miki nodded solemnly. “Mama-oo-pow-pow. Truer words were
never spoken. I know you have business to attend to, so thank you
for taking the time to speak with us today, High Prophet.”

“Thank you, Miki. It’s been a pleasure. May The Worm be with
you.”

“And also with you, High Prophet. Back to you in the studio,
Paco.”

The view switched to a Spragmite standing by the throne that
Karnage stood in front of. “Thanks, Miki. I’m here in the High
Prophet’s chamber where he is about to pronounce judgement on
the heretic who was caught rampaging through the compound.”

Paco read off a long litany of crimes Karnage stood accused
of while the monitors cut to footage taken from Simon’s D-Pad.
Karnage watched as he took down Carlos with a single punch and
walked towards the camera in slow motion. The footage ended with
a distorted close up on Karnage’s grimacing face. It dissolved to a live
shot of Karnage’s face looking at the monitor. The scrolling caption
under his face read “HEATHEN BROUGHT TO JUSTICE – LIVE!”
Karnage tried to heed Tristan’s advice and did his best to look sad.

Melvern was climbing the dais while Paco provided commentary.
“The High Prophet is just ascending to the throne now, Miki. We
should be getting a judgement in the next couple of minutes.”

The High Prophet stood before the cameras and raised his
arms as if asking for silence. After waiting a beat, he turned with a
flourish to Karnage.

“So,” he said. “You are the heathen.”

“So,” Karnage said. “You’re Melvern.”

There were several gasps from the crowd. The captions on the
monitors changed to read “HEATHEN BLASPHEMES - LIVE!” A
priest wearing a headset ran forward. He pointed a pen at Karnage.
“You will refer to His Holiness as the High Prophet!”

The High Prophet stepped down and placed a hand on the priest’s
shoulder. “Gently now, Homski. Do not let him suppress your Inner
Worm. Remember The Word.”

Homski sighed and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, your Holiness.
I will seek guidance from my Inner Worm.”

“As I knew you would.” The High Prophet smiled warmly at
Homski, then gently pushed him out of the shot. He turned to
the crowd. “This savage has managed to break the majority of
our most sacred laws. And in an incredibly short time frame.” The
High Prophet turned to Karnage. “That’s quite an accomplishment,
friend.”

“I take pride in my work,” Karnage said.

The High Prophet smiled. “And a sense of humour to boot.” He
turned grandly towards the cameras. “The Worm has sent us a true
test with this one.”

“Buddy, you don’t know the half of it,” Karnage said.

The High Prophet half-turned towards Karnage, ensuring the
cameras still got a good shot of his face as he raised an eyebrow.
“Oh? Then please, do tell.”

Here goes.
Karnage cleared his throat. He tried to make sure the
cameras got his good side. As it turned out, he didn’t have one. He
gave up and blurted out, “I am the Lightbringer.”

The crowd descended into chaos, everyone shouting at once.
Faces went white. Others turned to panic. The captions under
Karnage’s face changed to “HEATHEN: LIGHTBRINGER? - LIVE!”
Karnage fought the urge to grin. Tristan was right. He couldn’t have
asked for a better response if he had come running into the room
naked with guns blazing.

The only one unfazed by Karnage’s announcement was the High
Prophet. He smiled serenely, blinked slowly, and sighed. He turned
to the confused congregation and raised his hands. The crowd fell
silent.

“Friend,” he reached out an arm toward Karnage, “that is quite
the claim. On the face of it, that is indeed what the scriptures would
suggest. The Lightbringer is supposed to bring the Light, and you
have brought light.”

“That’s right,” Karnage said. “I’m the Lightbringer.”

“Yes,” the High Prophet nodded. “Of a sort.”

“Of a sort?” Homski said. “Could that mean there’s another
meaning?”

The High Prophet bowed his head and shook it. “I would not
presume to interpret The Word of Spragmos.”

Homski covered his mouth. “Of course not, Your Holiness. I
wouldn’t dream—”

The High Prophet raised his hand. “I know, Homski. I know.”

“I brought light,” Karnage said. “That makes me the Lightbringer.”
A low murmuring rippled through the crowd like a pebble splashing
the surface of a pond.

“Yes, you keep saying that,” the High Prophet said.

Karnage said it again: “I’m the Lightbringer.” The crowd’s
murmuring increased. The ripples grew stronger. Karnage wondered
how big of a splash he could make.

The High Prophet shot Karnage a dangerous look. “Just because
you continue to say it, that does not necessarily make it true.”

“I’m the Lightbringer,” Karnage said.

“Is he the Lightbringer?” Homski asked.

“It’s not my place to say,” the High Prophet said.

“I’m the Lightbringer,” Karnage said.

A fist shot up at the back. “All hail the Lightbringer!”

“See?” Karnage said. “Lightbringer.”

The High Prophet raised his hand. “We shouldn’t rush to hasty
conclusions.”

“What should we do, Your Holiness?” Homski asked.

The High Prophet’s face was serene, a stalwart rocky crag on
which the crowd’s waves had crashed to no effect. He remained
calm. Tranquil. Unperturbed by the storm raging around him. He
smiled into the nearest lens. “Why, we should do nothing.”

Homski blinked. “Nothing?”

The caption on the screen changed to “HIGH PROPHET: ‘DO
NOTHING’ - LIVE!”

The High Prophet shrugged. “There is nothing for us to do. We
are but servants of The Word, and The Word . . .” The High Prophet
leaned into the nearest D-Pad. His face filled the screens. His blue
eyes sparkled. “. . . is The Worm.”

The crowd bowed their heads and chanted, “Mama-oo-powpow.”

“But I’m the Lightbringer,” Karnage said. No one paid him any
attention. They were too caught up in their
Mama-oo-pow-pow
s
.

The screens changed to a two-shot of Karnage and the High
Prophet. The caption underneath read “THE WORM IS THE WORD - LIVE!” The High Prophet placed a hand on Karnage’s shoulder. He
raised his other hand towards the congregation. “It is no coincidence
he was sent to us on Arbiter’s Day, my friends. This is all part of
Spragmos’s plan. The Heathen’s claim will be tested by The Arbiter
Himself!”

The crowd gasped. The screen caption changed: “HEATHEN:
WORTHY? - LIVE!”

“But I’m the Lightbringer,” Karnage said.

The High Prophet put an arm around Karnage. “So you keep
saying. But we are mere mortal men. It is not our place to make these
decisions. No, The Worm will decide.” The High Prophet gestured
towards the audience. “For The Worm is The Word. Mama-oo-powpow!”

“Mama-oo-pow-pow!” The crowd shouted.

The High Prophet grabbed Karnage’s hand and shook it.
“Congratulations, friend. You are heading for the Finale. Take him
to the Green Room!”

The crowd cheered wildly as the guards led Karnage away.

The Green Room was an old fallout shelter deep in the bowels of the
WTF. As far as Karnage could tell, there was nothing green about it.
The walls were a dingy grey and a single LED lantern barely clung
to life in the middle of the ceiling. A bench lay along the wall on one
end of the room. On the other wall, a large D-pad displayed a steel
double-door leading onto the testing grounds.

A young man sat on the bench, watching the screen raptly.
Another lay motionless in a pool of blood on the floor. The man on
the bench glared at Karnage as he entered the room. He sneered.

Karnage nodded. “Howdy.”

The man ignored him. He turned his gaze back to the screen. The
steel doors opened, and a young woman emerged from the darkness.

Miki’s voice poured from the screen. “And now here’s Stephanie
Blyskosz, readying for her meeting with The Worm.”

The doors shut behind Stephanie with a loud boom. She jumped,
then put on a brave face. She waved to the stands. The crowd cheered.

Paco’s voice joined Miki’s. “Stephanie was our highest scoring
female contestant this year, as well as the highest scoring on record.”

A giant shadow overtook her. She looked up. Her eyes went
wide and she screamed. The video cut out as an angry, squiggly
screech shook the entire complex. As the screech faded, the video
signal came back. Stephanie was gone. Nothing but churned earth
remained at the base of the doors. The crowd cheered wildly.

The young man snorted and shook his head in disgust. “Pathetic.”

The screen changed to show Miki and Paco standing on the arena
floor, wearing headsets and holding clipboards.