Major Karnage (23 page)

“The alien infestation uses ultra-violent transmissions,” the
drone said.

“Don’t you mean ultra-violet?” Sydney said.

The hologram disappeared and the drone turned its lens
towards Sydney. “Absolutely not. I meant ultra-violent. Ultraviolent transmissions are unique to this invasion. They are
actively assaulting the electromagnetic spectrum, intermittently
obliterating and inserting themselves between the extreme ultraviolet and super ultra-violet wavelengths. Theoretically, this
should be impossible. And in practice, it often is. Yet this unique
band consistently and continuously shows up in my data, usually
in erratic oscillations measured in yoctosecond bursts. Millions of
orders come in on each burst. One for each and every creature in the
invasion, right down to the smallest bacterium.”

The drone hovered down to Karnage’s shin and tapped on the
metal band under his pants. “It is these very same transmissions
which I am using to contain the genetic infection. The band gives
off ultra-violent transmissions, ordering the exo-DNA to maintain
itself in a holding pattern and await further instructions.”

The drone hovered up and tapped on the acrylic ceiling. “I have
similar shielding around the entire compound. I have reason to
believe that these ultra-violent transmissions are two-way. This
intelligence has been keeping tabs on every step of the invasion,
right down to the mutation and division of individual cells.”

It gazed longingly out into the mist. “I would love to see it up
close. I find myself wondering what it would look like. We always
speak of the human race as being made in God’s image. I’d love to
see the god that made all this.”

Karnage pressed his hands against the glass. He felt more
helpless than ever. How were they going to stop this?
If only we’d
known about it sooner,
he thought.
If only—

He turned to look at the drone. “How long have you known about
this?”

“Decades,” the drone said. “Not the full extent, of course. I didn’t
fully realize the implications until—GRAAK!”

The drone squawked as Karnage slammed it against the glass.
His Sanity Patch buzzed. “Warning. Sanity Level upgraded to Peachy
Keen. Please refrain—”

“Why didn’t you tell anybody?! Why didn’t you try and do
something about it?!”

The drone’s tendrils flickered and stabbed at Karnage’s fist in
agitation. Its voice stayed cheerful and bright. “I
have
been doing
something,” it said. “I’ve been studying it quite extensively—”

“You’ve been sittin’ back and lettin’ it get away with blue bloody
murder!” Karnage slammed the drone against the wall again. His
Sanity Patch crooned “Tangy Orange.” “They practically got us
swallowed up whole, and all you can do is sit here and
study
the
fucking things?!”

Pain stabbed into Karnage’s shoulder. His arm dropped, letting
the drone go. The drone quickly flew up out of reach. Karnage saw
Sydney’s pinky on his shoulder. She shot him a warning look. “That’s
enough.”

Karnage set his jaw. “What about you, Captain. Did you know
about this?”

“No,” she said. “He never told me.”

“Why not?”

Sydney dropped her eyes. “He was trying to protect me.”

“Protect you from what?”

“Perhaps you’ve glossed over the bit where I mentioned the
genetic modifications handed out under the guise of vaccinations?”
the drone said. “Where do you suppose they came from?”

“The Dabney Corporation?” Karnage said.

“Precisely,” the drone squealed with glee. “You’re not quite as
dumb as you look, Major.” It was feeling braver now that it was
out of Karnage’s reach. “Until I could understand the full extent of
the infestation, I did not want to endanger young Sydney. I am her
guardian after all. Perhaps that was an error in judgement on my
part, but what else could I have done?”

Karnage set his jaw. He shot the drone a dangerous look. “Plenty.”

“I beg to disagree.”

“Beg all you like. You still chickened out!”

“Let it go,” Sydney said.

“No, I’m not going to let it go.” Karnage turned towards the
drone, and stabbed a finger at it. The drone drew itself up against
the glass. “I want to meet that fucker face-to-face. Let him tell me
man-to-man why he didn’t have the guts to do something about
this. No more of this hiding shit, Unk. You hear me?!”

“No,” Sydney said. “You can’t.”

“Why? You afraid I’m gonna hit him?”

“Yes.”

“You’re goddamn right I will!” The Sanity Patch crooned “Sharp
Cheddar” as Karnage rounded on the drone. “Come on, you coward!
Show yourself!”

Sydney brandished her pinkies. “You’ll have to go through me
first.”

Karnage cracked his knuckles. “Fine by me.”

“No!” The drone dropped down between Sydney and Karnage.
“No violence. Not on my account.” It focused its lens on Karnage’s
face. “You wish to see me face-to-face?”

“I do.”

The drone nodded. “Very well.”

“Uncle, no!”

The drone turned to Sydney. “The major is right. I owe him an
explanation. I owe it to the world. I have hidden away long enough.”
The drone drifted down the tunnel, calling, “This way, please.”
Sydney glared at Karnage. “If you hurt him, I will kill you.”
She turned and walked away.

The drone led them through the terrarium. The tunnel curved
around and came back up into a concrete structure. The drone
stopped right before the exit in front of a door marked EMPLOYEES
ONLY. They passed through, and down a flight of stairs into a
maintenance hall. Rust-streaked pipes lined the wall of the narrow
corridor. A few aging fluorescents flickered inside their steel mesh
cages above them, providing spotty lighting. The floor was cracked
and stained. The concrete had crumbled away in places, showing
rusted reinforcing rods.

The corridor came to an end in front of a dented metal door
marked KILLER WHALE TANK. The drone opened the door, and
soft blue light poured through the frame. They walked through.

The room was filled with a giant inverted dome made entirely
of acrylic. The tank held a dark pulsing mass. Giant rusted pipes
ran down the sides of the tank and into the floor. Pools of water lay
on the floor. The room was filled with drones, adjusting valves and
manning small digital consoles. Wires spread from the consoles into
the tank.

“There I am, Major.” A drone dropped down in front of him and
pointed towards the tank. “Do with me what you will.”

Karnage moved closer, squinting his eyes. The pulsing mass
was composed of coils of grey flesh as thick as his forearm, looped
endlessly together, packed tightly within the dome. As he drew
closer, he saw a small shadow hanging from the base of the dome.

It was a body, curled in on itself, hanging from the dome by its
head. A band of gleaming metal attached its head to the base of
the dome. Its pale skin was translucent. The limbs were shrivelled,
pulled up against the swollen torso. It wore a nothing but a thin
sleeveless shroud, lines of purple, blue, and green visible on the skin.

As Karnage drew closer, he saw the band cut across the body’s
head just above the eyes. It was missing the top half of its skull.
Karnage looked up at the tangles of grey coils that filled the tank.
It was as if they had spilled out of the head, and were now pulsing
inside the giant tank.
That’s his brain.

Its face was drawn and tight, eyes closed, the pale lids tattooed
with tiny purple capillaries. The face pinched tighter as the eyes
struggled to open. The pink pupils drifted towards Karnage and
tried to focus while its tiny lips curled slightly at the corners.

The drone beside Karnage turned to him. “Now do you
understand?”

The smile dropped from the lips, replaced by a painful grimace.
The eyes unfocused and the eyelids closed.

“No,” Karnage said.

“Of course you don’t,” the drone said. “Nor would anyone else. It
is too different. Too . . . alien. And so I stay hidden. Protected.”

Karnage looked up at the pulsing mass of brain. “How . . . ?”

“Decompressive
craniectomy
and
extensive
transcranial
magnetic stimulation. Does that help you understand at all?”

“Not really.”

The drone nodded. “It would not. It is too foreign to you. Just
as your ways are foreign to many. We are both very much alike.
Outcasts. Incomprehensible to the outside world. Damaged in so
many ways, and yet so very able in others. You owe your very life to
my abilities. My research. My path. Perhaps your path will lead you
to return that favour. Except . . .”

“What?” Karnage said.

“I accept my limitations, Major. And I have chosen to work within
them.” The drone poked at Karnage’s bandaged shoulder. Blood was
seeping through. “You would be wise to learn to do the same.”

Karnage watched as a drone restitched his shoulder. He was sitting
on a stool in the water tower in front of the oval windows. He peered
through the grime-covered glass at the broken water park below.
Somewhere beyond the sagging roller coasters and broken water
slides lay the squidbugs. He turned to Sydney. “I’m a mess.”

“You just tore out a few stitches,” Sydney said. “Uncle will have
you stitched up again in no time.”

Karnage shook his head. “It’s more than that. We were there.
Right there. Starin’ them squidbugs square in the face. We could
have ended it all right there. We could’ve . . .”

“You don’t know what you could have done,” Sydney said.

“I do,” Karnage said, “and it was nothing. I had my chance, and I
blew it. Goddammit, how the fuck am I supposed to fight anything
without blowin’ my head off?!”

“What do you mean?” Sydney said.

“He’s referring to the explosive device implanted in the base of
his skull,” the drone said.

Sydney did a double take. “What?!”

Karnage looked at the drone. “How did you know about that?”

The drone’s lens looked up at Karnage. “It’s rather hard to
miss, isn’t it?” It tapped the LED screen of the patch. “Frankly, I’m
surprised you haven’t brought it up before.”

“I try not to think about it too much,” Karnage said.

“Yes, and as a result you’ve come precariously close to blowing
your head off on a large number of occasions.”

“How do you know that?!”

“It’s all recorded here in the device’s on-board computer. It
was automatically scanned and downloaded when Sydney first
brought you in. I must say, it is an amazing piece of technology. The
gentleman who designed it is either a genius or a complete and utter
madman.”

“That sounds like Flaherty.”

“Dr. Paul Flaherty? The neuroscientist?”

“You knew him?”

“I knew
of
him. He was involved in a number of horrifying
scandals which left many of his patients either brain-dead or just
plain dead. His theories were occasionally interesting, while his
methods were . . . impractical, let’s say. I’m shocked to see that he
finally achieved some measure of success.”

“Depends on your definition of success,” Karnage said.

“The fact you are still alive should be considered success enough.”

“Can you remove it?” Sydney said.

The drone zoomed its lens in on the device. “Any attempt to
cut power to the device will cause it to detonate. Any attempt to
improperly tamper with the device will also cause it to detonate.”

“Sounds like I’m fucked,” Karnage said.

“Not necessarily,” the drone said. “There are other options
available to us outside of the surgical. Alternative therapies. We
could take a more holistic approach.”

“What do you mean?”

“Instead of tampering with the device,” the drone tapped
Karnage’s head, “we tamper with the subject.”

Karnage swatted it away. “What the hell do you mean tamper
with the subject?! I’m not gonna let anybody carve up my brain!”

“I assure you no carving would be required. All adjustments
would be behavioural in nature, not surgical. The sensors respond
to specific signals from the amygdala, hypothalamus, and to a lesser
extent, the pituitary gland. It interprets these responses in order to
determine the instinctual motivations of the subject. In effect, it
is tied directly to your lizard brain. Remove the lizard brain from
the equation, and the sensors will have nothing to respond to. No
stimulus, no response. No earth-shattering kaboom.”

“So how do I cut out my lizard brain?” Karnage asked.

The drone tapped a tentacle against Karnage’s forehead. “By
becoming attuned to your Eleventh Sense.”

“Of course we are all familiar with the five Primary Senses: Sight,
Sound, Smell, Taste, and Touch. But beyond that, there are a further
three Secondary Senses from which the body draws from.

“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.