Major Karnage (24 page)

“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.”

“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?”

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, using 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?”

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.”

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.