“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.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
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.”