New Short Story: Hazard Pay

“Alpha Thirt ..., report.”

Gleeb, civilian researcher temporarily assigned to the Intergalactic Exploration Corps, stopped short at the words echoing in his head.  Those idiots – he was just on a survey mission.  Couldn’t they leave him alone for five minutes?  “Alpha Thirteen, reporting.”

“Req ... t status rep ... t.”

He tilted his head slightly, hoping to get a clearer signal.  The radio waves on this stupid planet were playing havoc with the inner ear communicators.  Which, now that he thought about it, wasn’t necessarily a bad thing .... “Sorry Mission Control, your signal’s breaking up.  I’m losing you ....”

A moment of silence, then, “How’s that, Alpha Thirteen?”

Gleeb sighed.  “Just perfect, sir.” He maneuvered his data recording device back into position.  “I have moved on to the second phase of my mission and begun a survey of the initial level of territory surrounding my base camp.  Though there are no signs of the advanced civilization reported to be living here, I have already logged in several species of absolutely fascinating native fauna and flora ....”

The voice on the other end cut him off.  “Any resources we can use?”

Gleeb bristled, his antennae twitching in righteous indignation.  What, did they think Prolovium deposits just sat out in the open air, waiting for any idiot to smack into them?  No – you needed a professional.  “As I was saying, I have begun a very thorough survey of the area, but I still have a considerable distance to cover.  The foliage, mainly long, flat stalks that do not appear edible, grow thickly over most of the area, blocking my view and impeding any readings I attempt to take.”

“Have you tried climbing them?”

He could feel his sides begin to quiver, never a good sign when one was attempting to avoid risking insubordination.  “They aren’t sturdy enough, sir.  Besides, sectional budget decreed that we weren’t to be allowed jet packs on this mission.”  He looked down.  “And it’s not as though our bodies are designed for climbing ....”

“Understood.  I’ll transfer you to Lieutenant Trang to finish your report.”  Translation: now that I know you don’t have anything I want, I get to move on with my life.

There were a few clicks, and another voice appeared in Gleeb’s head.  “My man Gleeb, how’s it hanging down on the dirt heap?”

At the sound, Gleeb could feel himself settle, his outer casing fitting comfortably for the first time in what seemed like days.  “Trang, buddy, next time I decide I need to go make something better of my self, tell me to go stick my head up a slime cleaner.”

“Consider it done.  So, what’s up?”

“Not much – I haven’t even found the local water source.”  He slid backwards a bit to allow a six-legged creature passage, with a slightly different back marking than the one he had already catalogued.  “And definitely no sign of those ‘alien death crunchers’ that space creeper was going on about. I told you that guy had just been hit with some bad froom juice.”

Trang chuckled.  “I know that feeling.  Still, unless you come up with something more interesting, that’s gonna be the story that goes around. You know no one ever bothers reading the report.”

“Too true.  I ....”  Noticing something in the distance, Gleeb narrowed his eyes.  “Hold on a minute, I think I see something.”

“What is it?  A Prolovium deposit?”

“No – it’s too roughly grained for that, though the readings register as a mineral compound.  But the geometric shape suggests construction, and there appears to be immense pale towers in the distance .... ” He moved closer, almost despite himself.  “I’m going to get a better look.  Alpha Thirteen out.”

Gleeb cut off communication before Trang could tell him to stop being a fool and get the glorp back to camp. He wasn’t going to do anything dumb like trying to approach the natives, of course, but if he didn’t get something useful out of this mission he was never going to get government funding. The space creepers had only gotten themselves in trouble because they hadn’t known what they were doing.

Trying desperately to remember the stealth section of the manual, Gleeb took a deep breath and slid forward, thankful that he had few inner organs to cause him problems during such stressful moments.  He did, however, briefly gave in to the very unscientific wish that he had been issued a weapon, another thing that didn’t seem to fit in to this year’s budget ....

“The foliage ends at the edge of the unidentified material, which looks to have been manually cleared. The proximity to the massed foliage suggests a farm of some sort, or perhaps a preserve.  I’m moving into the open area now.” Gleeb scanned his new surroundings, perplexed for a moment. He was so certain the towers had been right there ….

A rumble cut through the air. “Eeeeek, Mommy, a snail! Do something!”

Gleeb had only mere seconds before the shadow fell over his head, exactly like the one the space creeper had seen over the heads of his men.  Some inner instinct told him that this had not been one of his more brilliant ideas.

He sighed. At least he wouldn’t have to write the report this time.

Squish.

The mother, after a quick glance to make sure that the creature that had offended her daughter’s delicate sensibilities was dead, wiped her shoe on another part of the sidewalk.

“Great.  I thought the gardener had already sprayed for that sort of thing.”  She shook her head.  “I hope this isn’t the start of an invasion or something.”

So You Want to Rule the World: Don’t Get Mad, Get Clever

So You Want to Rule the World: Don’t Get Mad, Get Clever

So you probably can’t shoot the hero. Get over it. We supervillains are supposed to be clever, aren’t we? There are other ways we can make the idiot hero sorry he ever dared to go up against our evil magnificence!

One possibility is to aim for the sidekick. The sidekicks are often the smaller and, frankly, wimpier of any heroic duo, appreciated for his brains instead of his brawn (or other things, if you happen to be fighting a hero of vague sexual persuasion).

The writer is less likely to be protecting the sidekick, because even they can only stretch plausability so far. If you are lucky, the writer may even allow you to kill the sidekick, having been planning his death all along to allow his hero an emotional moment (or several) over his or her fallen friend.

This is especially likely if the sidekick is incredibly annoying - the writer may even be planning for you to kill the sidekick, just to get him the heck out of the way. It’s a good way for them to wallow in angst without killing off anyone they actually need from week to week (this can also apply to love interests, so if there’s a likely candidate in the immediate vicinity you might as well take a test shot).

Even if it isn't the sidekick's time to go to that great tacky costume shop in the sky, there's still a chance you can badly injure him. Since the sidekick's main job is to yell "watch out!" to the hero at inappropriate moments, heavy bleeding will to nothing to deter their mission. If nothing else, you can use it as a distraction while you do something far more interesting with your time.

If this doesn’t work, shoot buildings. A few explosions are great for introducing fear and trembling into the hearts of the general public. As an added bonus, the hero will be so busy rescuing members of the screaming populace from the wreckage that you can pretty much steal anything you want. If he tries to go after you instead of rescuing stupid innocents, people will blame him for not being sufficiently heroic.

Note: When planning an attack from space, the supervillain's aiming curse is somehow lessened dramatically, especially in one on one combat between ships. Photon torpedoes tend to have a rather dramatic reaction, especially when fired at a minor hero. In general, it is the only shoot-out situation which can reliably won by a villain.

A Handbook for Supervillains: Setting Goals

So You Want to Rule the World: A Handbook for Supervillians

Chapter 2: Setting Goals

Or, Small is the New Big

This may not be as simple as it seems for the beginning supervillain. Sure, everyone says that they want world domination, but is that what they're really looking for? There are a lot more options for a forward thinking individual than current publicity today shows.

There's nothing wrong, of course, with wanting to rule the world. It's a fine goal - one your mother could be proud of, if she was the kind of woman to get a kick out of such things. Many worthy notables in the profession have shared the same goal, including several villains on Wall Street and in the entertainment industry (all bow to the great Oprah). Historical supervillains such as Attila the Hun, Ghengis Kahn, Napolean, and Alexander the Great had similar ambitions, though these later individuals had the advantage of considering the world a much smaller place then we now know it to be, so they had less territory to cover. Still, a villain who chose this as an ultimate goal would be in very worthy company.

The only problem is, they wouldn't be in particularly successful company. Because, though ruling the world is a very nice aspiration for any villain to have, it is an impossible one to actually obtain. There is no way that only one person can control the whole world, no matter how powerful or devilishly good-looking you are.

Yes, yes, I know. Cue the chorus of all supervillain hopefuls currently reading this that want to voice their heated denials to the last statement that I just made. One, two, three - "But I can do it!" There, now that we've gotten that over with, we can stop any attempts on your part to try and prove this to me, and most definitely the gratuitous boasting that is certain to go along with those attempts (not that I disapprove entirely - I myself have participated in gratuitous boasting on several occasions, and generally find it very relaxing. Now, however, is not the time), jumping right to the point where I explain why all of you are wrong.

Unless you happen to be fortunate enough to lead an alien race who sees earthlings as lower life forms and is conveniently equipped with a large and scary fleet of very well-armed spaceships (in which case, you would technically not be considered a supervillain - more like an impartial enslaving and destructive force. Most aliens aren't allowed to enjoy world domination, a stigma which will be discussed later), the entire world is simply too large a territory for one supervillain to keep an eye on. And it's impossible to truly be the complete ruler of any area unless you can be exactly certain what's going on in every area of it. The often used phrase "information is power" may be a cliche, but that doesn't mean it doesn't know what it's talking about. This is particularly true when one has to deal with pesky resistance movements.

There's no need to be upset, though. Just sit down on your great and dreadful thrones for a minute and think about this. Do you really want to rule the entire world? Or do you simply want a large enough chunk of it to keep you supplied with money, love slaves or your chosen gender, and people willing to cower and/or bow in front of you? It’s as easy to steal what you want as it is to order it handed over to you, and in small territories there’s no place for those annoying heroes to hide a secret army.

When you rule a small territory (such as a floating island or terrifying mountains stronghold) you get to lounge about and enjoy your evilness. Conquer something much bigger than that, however, and you actually have to spend time managing your holdings. That my evil young supervillain hopefuls, is code for paperwork. And if we wanted to deal with paperwork, we wouldn’t have bothered with becoming supervillains in the first place, would we?

Next: Choosing a Persona, or Step Away From the Spandex

Come here, my pretty….

The Internet is like the ultimate lure and containment trap.

First, you have the lure. Generally, the lure you’d use would depend on what you were hoping to catch – certain fish respond better to certain bait. But the Internet is so massive it has no need to limit itself – there are YouTube clips of idiots falling off high places, endless discussions about esoteric points in obscure sci-fi movies, make-up tutorials, visual homages to Edward Cullen’s supposed magnificence, and cat videos. If you have an interest, someone online has put up a page going into way more detail about it than you ever imagined possible.

Once they have you drawn in, they start to disorient you. Sometimes the initial site can do this – message boards are both great for long conversations that will suck up hours without you realizing it – but the real power is in the links. Like a little trail of electronic breadcrumbs, they lead you deeper and deeper into the maze of websites full of distracting information and shiny pictures. Hours later, you have no memory of what you had initially meant to do or what is going on in the world outside of the computer screen. Worse, you don’t want to leave the magic computer screen, because it’s constantly rewarding you with some new factoid or bright spangly every few clicks. You’re happy in the trap, and wouldn’t leave if you could.

The question is, who’s trapping us? The simple answer is corporations, but your average business executive just isn’t that clever. My vote is our future alien overlords.