Barry Mulligan
The Stars Have EyesBarry Mulligan is Joe Mulligan’s father, a huge, bald, broad-shouldered man whose intimidating appearance repeatedly contrasts with his warmth, simplicity, and determination to remain a parent despite years of separation. His biography is initially disguised as a dangerous deep-space mining career, but the truth is harsher: he was convicted of fifteen counts of gross negligence after a catastrophic accident and sentenced to thirty years of hard labor. When Joe finally visits him, Barry offers both an immediate emotional welcome and a difficult lesson in independence. Later, when a dangerous ceremony threatens the people Joe loves, Barry chooses to protect his son by allowing the ritual to continue rather than ordering the gathering to disperse. He is therefore not merely a missing parent or comic physical contrast; he is a figure through whom the narrative tests whether love means sheltering someone, telling the truth, or allowing him to choose for himself.
Identity and Background
Barry is introduced through Margaret Mulligan’s keepsake rather than through a direct appearance. Margaret wears a thin chain with a small circular locket, and pressing its button projects a high-resolution holographic portrait of her husband. The image shows a clean-shaven, slightly dark-skinned man with a huge smile, a bald head, and shoulders so thick that his neck nearly disappears between them. The portrait makes him look capable of suplexing a bear, while the signature in its corner identifies him as Barry. This exaggerated physical description establishes the visual joke that surrounds him, but the image also preserves him as an object of family memory: absent in person, yet still carried close to Margaret’s body.
Margaret tells Maggie that Barry works in deep-space mining, in places where radio interference prevents the use of drones and forces workers into power suits. The work is dangerous and exhausting, and it keeps him away for most of the year. She nevertheless presents him as a father who continues trying to do his part and who once dreamed of establishing a father-and-son enterprise with Joe. Joe’s smaller, more delicate build supposedly made him unsuited to the mining life, a conclusion he answers with an eye-rolling joke rather than enthusiasm. At this stage, Barry’s absence is framed as occupational hardship, and the family’s story seems to be one of distance imposed by dangerous labor.
That explanation is eventually exposed as a protective lie. Barry had intended to leave mining when Joe was born and had looked forward to doing so since Margaret became pregnant. Instead, a major accident injured many people, caused losses of millions of poundingtons, and produced a chain of blame in which Barry received the worst consequences. He was convicted of fifteen counts of gross negligence and sentenced to thirty years of hard labor. His continued absence is therefore not voluntary employment but penal labor, while the money he has failed to send home is explained by his imprisonment rather than indifference. The revelation changes Joe’s understanding of both his father’s disappearance and his mother’s long silence.
Reunion and Family Conduct
Joe’s visit to Barry’s quarters reveals a life that is cramped, untidy, and unmistakably bachelor-like despite Barry’s marriage. The room is larger than Joe’s former apartment but much smaller than Maggie’s new home. It appears to have been cleaned only recently, and an obscene stack of used paper plates and cups hidden beneath the bed preserves the evidence of its earlier disorder. Barry himself is dressed in a stained T-shirt, baggy trousers, and heavy boots that look nearly as old as Joe. He is drinking now-cold tea at a small table when the visitors arrive, a modest detail that places his imposing body inside an ordinary, worn domestic setting.
His first response to Joe is not guardedness or resentment but a huge grin, the expression Maggie classifies as the “The Mulligan Special.” Barry roars a welcome, calls Joe his boy, and bear-hugs him so forcefully that he nearly lifts him off the ground. The physicality of the greeting is comic, but it also supplies the emotional fact that the legal history cannot erase: Barry still recognizes the reunion as a father welcoming his son. Joe may be angry about the deception and the years of absence, yet he does not want his father to be miserable or tortured. His relief at Barry’s circumstances shows that the visit restores concern before it restores uncomplicated trust.
The reunion expands beyond the first embrace into a gathering with Barry’s fellow miners. Joe later looks through photographs of the improvised party, using them to recover a memory blurred by unfamiliar surroundings and drink. He remembers having a genuinely enjoyable time among strangers and learning to play darts, an activity he had not expected to like. The visit is therefore not reduced to confession and accusation. Barry’s social world gives Joe a temporary sense of belonging, while the photographs turn the encounter into a durable family memory rather than a single confrontation.
At the middle of the festivities, Barry takes Joe aside for a private conversation. He openly admits that he lied to his son for most of Joe’s life and apologizes. Joe accepts the apology immediately, without interrogation or conditions. Barry then resumes the parental role he has always attempted to perform whenever they meet, telling Joe that he must become his own man instead of allowing other people to guide him. He acknowledges that Maggie clearly means the world to Joe and treats that attachment as something good, but warns that she cannot become Joe’s entire world. Barry’s advice is significant because it does not attack Maggie or demand that Joe abandon her; it distinguishes love from dependence and asks Joe to retain agency within the relationship.
Law, Authority, and the Cost of Absence
Barry’s life is shaped by institutions that classify and control people according to exceptional circumstances. His conviction places him under criminal punishment and hard labor, while Maggie’s separate encounter with law enforcement ends when military authority orders her release and the erasure of the incident from official databases. A courtroom later learns that Maggie’s military-signed credentials establish diplomatic status and protect her from the civil copyright suit. Against these examples of military secrecy and diplomatic privilege, Barry’s situation appears as the opposite legal condition: he is not shielded by state power but made to bear its losses through a decades-long sentence.
This contrast also clarifies why Barry’s absence has been so difficult for Joe to interpret. The family’s false mining narrative converts a state-imposed punishment into an apparently chosen occupation, allowing Margaret to preserve Barry as a working father rather than disclose that he is a convicted laborer. The lie protects the family’s emotional image of him, but it also deprives Joe of the truth about the person whose absence has shaped his life. Barry’s later apology cannot undo the years of concealment; it matters because he finally accepts responsibility for the story instead of letting the excuse remain intact.
Barry’s reunion with Joe is thus governed by two competing obligations. He must acknowledge the damage caused by his crime and the lie surrounding it, but he must also continue behaving as a father. His stern counsel about independence turns punishment and absence into a challenge for Joe’s adulthood: Joe cannot remain defined by the people who failed him, rescued him, or currently command his loyalty. Barry’s fatherhood is imperfect, delayed, and sometimes blunt, yet it is active rather than sentimental. He parents by confessing, apologizing, warning, and insisting that Joe make choices as an adult.
The Ritual and the Choice to Protect Joe
Barry later becomes involved in a far more dangerous form of paternal responsibility. During the recreation of a ceremony, Joe is once again used as a sacrifice, naked and chained to a stone altar while the ritual proceeds around him. This time Joe understands exactly what is happening and consents to his role, so his calm no longer comes from ignorance. Barry, Benny, and Cullen all know the stakes as well. Barry serves as the master of ceremonies, the person to whom Joe looks when the familiar signs of danger begin to return.
The altar heats beneath Joe’s back and buttocks as the ancient runes start glowing, indicating that the ceremony is proceeding as intended. At the same time, muffled gunfire approaches, repeating the crisis that accompanied the earlier attempt. Joe sees Maggie’s silent, hooded vessel nearby and briefly gains reassurance when Azgod’Kalar pokes its tiny head from her hair. The scene combines ritual trust with physical vulnerability: Joe is immobilized, Barry is responsible for the ceremony, and the approaching attack threatens both the rite and the people gathered to witness it.
The Supernatural Eviction Agency has discovered the gathering and sent a crack team of commandos to stop it. Automated security temporarily delays them, but everyone understands that the protection will not last. Barry knows that the previous attempt ended badly, and he knows that this time Joe has people in the cult whom he genuinely cares about. The responsible response would be to order the group to disperse. Instead, Barry keeps the ceremony moving. His decision is not ignorance of danger but a deliberate refusal to fail his son again. He places loyalty and paternal repair above institutional caution, accepting that protecting Joe may require allowing Joe’s chosen course to proceed.
That choice completes Barry’s movement from absent father to active participant in Joe’s life. Earlier, Barry was physically absent because the state confined him and emotionally obscured by a family lie. At the ritual, he is present, visible, and entrusted with a role that can determine whether Joe’s plan succeeds. His protection does not take the form of removing Joe from danger. It takes the more difficult form of respecting Joe’s informed commitment while standing beside him when armed force closes in. Barry’s love is therefore shown as both shelter and release: he welcomes Joe into his arms, then insists that Joe become his own man, and finally supports a decision whose risks he fully understands.
Narrative Role and Significance
Barry functions as a deliberately unstable combination of intimidating body, foolish-looking warmth, criminal past, and genuine moral concern. The narrative first makes him almost mythical through the holographic portrait’s bear-suplexing proportions, then reduces the myth to a tired man in old clothes, drinking cold tea in a cramped room. The contrast prevents his fatherhood from becoming either idealized or purely tragic. He is embarrassing, loving, compromised, and still capable of doing the right thing for reasons that are personal rather than institutionally approved.
His story also gives Joe’s development a familial counterpoint. Maggie’s extraordinary status, military protection, and cosmic identity make her relationship with Joe inseparable from forces larger than ordinary domestic life. Barry answers that scale with blunt, practical counsel: affection must not become total dependence, and Joe must not let another person become his entire world. Yet Barry’s own final choice complicates the warning. He does not withdraw from Joe’s world; he enters it, even when that world contains cult ritual, a sacrificial altar, glowing runes, and an approaching Supernatural Eviction Agency assault. The tension between independence and loyalty is not resolved by choosing one over the other. Barry teaches Joe to stand alone while proving that standing beside someone can still be an act of strength.


