This story was written in late 2009, before the character of Adam Malkovich was ruined for...
Adam (Metroid, short)
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This story was written in late 2009, before the character of Adam Malkovich was ruined for everyone. This vignette was my interpretation of why Adam was able to identify so well with Samus. Its self-indulgent, but I'm happy with it nonetheless.
...
Adam was the name of the first man in the world. Sometimes, Colonel Adam Malkovich felt like the last.
"You're sure you don't want any more, Colonel?"
The vivacious, twenty-something year old girl held up a bowl of whatever expensive delicacy he had just been eating.
"No, thank you."
She shrugged. "Suit yourself, Colonel."
She stalked off to the kitchen shaking her hips prominently behind her. Adam looked at his watch. Only fifteen minutes into the banquet. He would have to wait at least another ten or so until he could politely excuse himself without offending anyone. Sighing, he leaned back in his chair, wincing at the softness of it.
The secretary's daughter wasn't subtle in her flirtation. Adam wondered if it was every officer her father entertained who enjoyed this attention, or just him. Probably the former. He had worn this badge and uniform long enough to recognize her type. When he was younger, he had been intrigued as well as repulsed. Nowadays, well, the mystique had worn thin. Looking at Mia, he felt like he could see through her polished grin and carefully glossed skin, and there was nothing behind it. Just a lavishly decorated sitting room, with some other politicians and their families, who were also-if you looked carefully enough-invisible. It was just him. The last man in the world.
"Ah, you've met Mia!"
The Secretary of Interstellar Affairs was one of the most powerful men on the planet Tirace, and possibly, thought Adam, one of the fattest. He pulled up a seat at the table next to Adam and poured himself a drink.
"She's a daughter to be proud of," said Adam.
"Ahaha, you think so, Colonel Malkovich?"
"I trust my instincts."
It was Unification Day. The twentieth anniversary of the Galactic Federation. General Neimen's force had been stationed here in the wake of a recent series of Space Pirate attacks on incoming freighter convoys. Adam was second in command. He liked General Neimon; an earnest, hardbitten old veteran who seemed more real than most. Adam remembered one occasion, about a year ago, when they were discussing the prospect of retirement.
"The way I've come to see it," said the General, "for us, retirement isn't an aspiration so much as an admission of weakness."
Adam had nodded softly.
"Those assholes on Earth are starting to see the Marines as a political tool, and forgetting that we're what keeps the locusts away from the door. To tell you the truth, Colonel, I'm about sick and tired of suits."
Adam nodded again.
"Hell, if you had to retire Malkovich, what could you imagine doing with yourself?"
Adam had thought for a moment before answering.
"I'd start by growing my sideburns, sir."
General Neimen looked baffled for a second, and for that moment Adam had felt very alone in the room. Then, comprehension dawned on his scarred, battle-worn face.
"You still haven't found any others?"
"A few, sir. Mostly in the outer systems. A handful around Sol."
"No luck talking sense into them?"
"None, sir."
General Neimen shook his head.
"Well. I've got to make my report."
It had been a bonding moment between the two officers.
Back in the present, Adam sat through ten more minutes of wine and pseudorodent-fillets before explaining that he absolutely had to be back at the base. As he put on his coat, Mia walked over to him.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Colonel."
Adam nodded without smiling and walked out the door.
…
"Colonel Malkovich is back already?"
The Sergeant shook his head and chuckled.
"The General might be smooth with the civvie authorities, but Malkovich…well…he's got patience issues. Tell anyone I said that, and you're on graveyard shift for a month, Private."
The Private nodded heavily. "I have no idea what you just told me sir."
The Sergeant grinned.
"So…where is he now? If he isn't there, shouldn't he be in the command center?"
"Nah. On certain evenings, Colonel Malkovich has his hours rearranged. Half an hour of sleep time before dinner instead of after."
"What? Why the hell does he do that?"
The Sergeant shrugged. "Dunno. He's a strange one all around."
…
In his quarters, Adam looked at the list of names. All crossed out. Afraid of alienating their peers, or re-inciting the old hatreds. All saying humanity should just be itself, now; no reason to draw lines within our own species when we have the roaches and the locusts and the frosties to wrap our minds around. Some of them appealed to his hatred of politics. He supposed they made a good argument, but he wasn't convinced it was genuine; most of them were probably just afraid. The post-war chaos was still fresh in a lot of minds.
Standing up, he produced the cigarette lighter and candle-holder. The latter was a family heirloom. Adam remembered watching his mother and sisters use it. In the years following the Free Systems War, and Unification, people like the Malkoviches had fallen distinctly out of favor. The newborn Galactic Federation had tried to stop it, but it was already a lost cause, and there were much bigger problems for the government to handle. His people had already been dwindling for centuries. Most of them had already been looking for an excuse to abandon ship and just let it finally sink.
Lighting the candle, he covered his eyes.
"Baruch atah Adonai, Elohenu, melech ha'olam. Asher kidishanu b'mitzvotav v'tsivanu lehadlik ner shel Shabbat."
The list was shrinking. Even his remaining sister back on Earth had crossed herself off. Her children didn't know they were Jewish. Adam didn't think her husband knew either. Their relationship was cordial, but when he talked to her Adam couldn't help but feel alone in the room.
Soon enough, he would be the last one.
...
Adam was the name of the first man in the world. Sometimes, Colonel Adam Malkovich felt like the last.
"You're sure you don't want any more, Colonel?"
The vivacious, twenty-something year old girl held up a bowl of whatever expensive delicacy he had just been eating.
"No, thank you."
She shrugged. "Suit yourself, Colonel."
She stalked off to the kitchen shaking her hips prominently behind her. Adam looked at his watch. Only fifteen minutes into the banquet. He would have to wait at least another ten or so until he could politely excuse himself without offending anyone. Sighing, he leaned back in his chair, wincing at the softness of it.
The secretary's daughter wasn't subtle in her flirtation. Adam wondered if it was every officer her father entertained who enjoyed this attention, or just him. Probably the former. He had worn this badge and uniform long enough to recognize her type. When he was younger, he had been intrigued as well as repulsed. Nowadays, well, the mystique had worn thin. Looking at Mia, he felt like he could see through her polished grin and carefully glossed skin, and there was nothing behind it. Just a lavishly decorated sitting room, with some other politicians and their families, who were also-if you looked carefully enough-invisible. It was just him. The last man in the world.
"Ah, you've met Mia!"
The Secretary of Interstellar Affairs was one of the most powerful men on the planet Tirace, and possibly, thought Adam, one of the fattest. He pulled up a seat at the table next to Adam and poured himself a drink.
"She's a daughter to be proud of," said Adam.
"Ahaha, you think so, Colonel Malkovich?"
"I trust my instincts."
It was Unification Day. The twentieth anniversary of the Galactic Federation. General Neimen's force had been stationed here in the wake of a recent series of Space Pirate attacks on incoming freighter convoys. Adam was second in command. He liked General Neimon; an earnest, hardbitten old veteran who seemed more real than most. Adam remembered one occasion, about a year ago, when they were discussing the prospect of retirement.
"The way I've come to see it," said the General, "for us, retirement isn't an aspiration so much as an admission of weakness."
Adam had nodded softly.
"Those assholes on Earth are starting to see the Marines as a political tool, and forgetting that we're what keeps the locusts away from the door. To tell you the truth, Colonel, I'm about sick and tired of suits."
Adam nodded again.
"Hell, if you had to retire Malkovich, what could you imagine doing with yourself?"
Adam had thought for a moment before answering.
"I'd start by growing my sideburns, sir."
General Neimen looked baffled for a second, and for that moment Adam had felt very alone in the room. Then, comprehension dawned on his scarred, battle-worn face.
"You still haven't found any others?"
"A few, sir. Mostly in the outer systems. A handful around Sol."
"No luck talking sense into them?"
"None, sir."
General Neimen shook his head.
"Well. I've got to make my report."
It had been a bonding moment between the two officers.
Back in the present, Adam sat through ten more minutes of wine and pseudorodent-fillets before explaining that he absolutely had to be back at the base. As he put on his coat, Mia walked over to him.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Colonel."
Adam nodded without smiling and walked out the door.
…
"Colonel Malkovich is back already?"
The Sergeant shook his head and chuckled.
"The General might be smooth with the civvie authorities, but Malkovich…well…he's got patience issues. Tell anyone I said that, and you're on graveyard shift for a month, Private."
The Private nodded heavily. "I have no idea what you just told me sir."
The Sergeant grinned.
"So…where is he now? If he isn't there, shouldn't he be in the command center?"
"Nah. On certain evenings, Colonel Malkovich has his hours rearranged. Half an hour of sleep time before dinner instead of after."
"What? Why the hell does he do that?"
The Sergeant shrugged. "Dunno. He's a strange one all around."
…
In his quarters, Adam looked at the list of names. All crossed out. Afraid of alienating their peers, or re-inciting the old hatreds. All saying humanity should just be itself, now; no reason to draw lines within our own species when we have the roaches and the locusts and the frosties to wrap our minds around. Some of them appealed to his hatred of politics. He supposed they made a good argument, but he wasn't convinced it was genuine; most of them were probably just afraid. The post-war chaos was still fresh in a lot of minds.
Standing up, he produced the cigarette lighter and candle-holder. The latter was a family heirloom. Adam remembered watching his mother and sisters use it. In the years following the Free Systems War, and Unification, people like the Malkoviches had fallen distinctly out of favor. The newborn Galactic Federation had tried to stop it, but it was already a lost cause, and there were much bigger problems for the government to handle. His people had already been dwindling for centuries. Most of them had already been looking for an excuse to abandon ship and just let it finally sink.
Lighting the candle, he covered his eyes.
"Baruch atah Adonai, Elohenu, melech ha'olam. Asher kidishanu b'mitzvotav v'tsivanu lehadlik ner shel Shabbat."
The list was shrinking. Even his remaining sister back on Earth had crossed herself off. Her children didn't know they were Jewish. Adam didn't think her husband knew either. Their relationship was cordial, but when he talked to her Adam couldn't help but feel alone in the room.
Soon enough, he would be the last one.
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- Location
- Patriarchova
He hasn't met Samus yet, so probably a few years before the first Metroid game.
Ish? He's not taking the disappearance of his own ethnicity and religion very well.
"Blessed are you, Lord, Our God, king of the universe, who sanctifies us with His commandments and commands us to light the candles of the Sabbath."
Originally I actually had the word "Jew" in there in the final paragraphs, but decided that maybe it would be better with more subtlety. Perhaps I overdid it, as not everyone has the cultural background to identify what he's doing at the end.
EDIT: made it explicit again.
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His people was kind of vague so I took it as some faction that was pro-human/anti-alien planning some movement(s) that might not have gone over favorably with some aliens given the context of Metroid. It's still good though. When I said xenophobic I meant other species of sentient life aliens.