Ryk E. Spoor's Blog, page 65

Just For Fun: The Annotated Evil Overlord, Part 4

 

Almost to the end. Part Five is the final section!

 

For convenience, I’m including our panel listing in each post.

Our Expert Panel

We have assembled for this special conference several fine villains who have wreaked havoc throughout the known multiverse. Let’s meet them:

Virigar. King of the Great Werewolves and progenitor of the species, Virigar is the most-feared monster on all of Zarathan. A soul-eating, nearly indestructible being, Virigar’s age is unknown, his full powers a mystery. He has killed gods and demons and men, shrugged off or consumed spells and energy weapons, and survived multiple planned attempts to destroy him. His only known weaknesses are silver weapons, and — of course — other soul-destroying beings or weapons. Seen in Digital Knight (and more in the expanded version Paradigms Lost to be released in late 2014) and implied in his existence in Phoenix Rising. In his true form he is a nine-foot-tall fur-covered monstrosity with diamond teeth and claws eight to twelve inches long, vaguely wolflike but much more alien; while he can take on any shape, his preferred guise is a handsome young man (late 20s, early 30s) very much like a young Robert Redford.
Master Wieran. Cold, analytical, fanatical, Master Wieran is what modern people would call a mad scientist. Combining knowledge of alchemy and multiple branches of magical study, Wieran’s quest is to discover and analyze  the source of life, nay, the very source of reality itself — and he will sacrifice anything, and anyone, to achieve that goal. Tall, thin, white-haired though not ancient, with deep-set eyes in a narrow, ascetic face and usually wearing something that does look rather like a labcoat, Wieran looks exactly like what he is.
Maria-Susanna. Perhaps the most tragic result of the epically tragic Hyperion Project, Maria-Susanna (alluded to in Grand Central Arena and finally encountered in Spheres of Influence) is the idealized self-insert (yes, the Mary-Sue) of the Project’s driving force. The collapse of the project combined with the death of the man she was designed for drove her completely over the edge. She still believes she is the good guy — the very noblest of good guys — and her delusions will, and have, allowed her to rationalize away literally dozens of murders. A genetically engineered superwoman, Maria-Susanna is the very ideal of the beautiful blonde, and is also physically capable of taking on just about anyone. In addition, she’s educated in a huge number of disciplines and can do just about anything she puts her mind to.
The Dark Wanderer. One of the legendary heroes of Zarathan is “The Wanderer”, a hero supposedly from Earth itself who appeared several thousand years ago. Wizard, warrior, sage, trickster, he’s said to be many things. The Dark Wanderer is his moral mirror image, caused by something terrible that happened to the original. With a special immunity to destiny and a unique approach to mystical powers, the Dark Wanderer is one of the most terrifying of all possible enemies to those on the world of Zarathan… and almost no one knows he exists… yet.
Thornfalcon. The major adversayr revealed at the end of Phoenix Rising, Thornfalcon is a swordsman, a would-be bard, a lover and a hero… and actually a psychopathic serial killer with very high functionality, empowered by something that can at the least imitate a god, and a manipulator par excellence. Tall, slender, with a long, flexible actor’s face that can go from sympathetic to comedic to psychotic in a flash, the brown-haired Justiciar wears a bird-themed “Raiment” that is both defense and mystical weapon, and wields considerable power of his own, especially as his position as the favored agent of his “patron” has made him something more than merely human.
Endgame. One of the major villains in my currently-being-shopped-around superhero novel Stuff of Legend, Endgame is an Omnicidal Maniac with the power to make it believable that he WILL destroy the world if not stopped. What event or events in his life filled him with such hatred for all things is not known. He wears a dark armored costume with a cape, and is massively muscled. He is brilliant and extremely tenacious, but constrained in his behavior by the essential rules, so to speak, that govern super-beings’ interactions.
Amanita Verdant. Entering the discussion as of Point #8, Amanita is one  of the main villains in my to-be-Kickstartered Oz-based novel Polychrome, Amanita was once a Giantess whose first name is unknown, only being addressed as “Mrs Yoop” in her canonical appearance. Having been transformed in such a manner that prohibited her from ever again regaining her true form, she has taken on the shape of a supernaturally beautiful young human woman with green hair and eyes. Amanita is an absolute master of transformation magics, and understands others quite well. She is also quite utterly insane, although able to disguise it well under most conditions. Part of her issues probably stem from her treatment (implied) by her husband, for whom she shows no concern at all when she knows he was captured, dragged off, and imprisoned in an isolated cage in the mountains.

 

The Annotated Evil Overlord, Part 4

     

  61. If my advisors ask “Why are you risking everything on such a mad scheme?”, I will not proceed until I have a response that satisfies them.

         Virigar: I don’t really HAVE advisors who would say such a thing; they know me too well.

         Dark Wanderer: Er, Big V, that makes you sound pretty, um –

         Virigar: Oh, many apologies. I should clarify that. They know too well that I plan things out so far, in so much detail, that if my scheme LOOKS mad, there is inevitably a reason behind it. So they would never ask that question of me. At most they would ask me to clarify — if I would — some detail that is relevant to them.

         Master Wieran: Mad? MAD? The fools! To not recognize that my intellect is so vastly superior to theirs that even *explaining* my plan would leave them no better enlightened! Why  (cue variant rant#4)

         Maria-Susanna: I see we have someone who could benefit from the above advice.

         Dark Wanderer: Yes, even if it’s TRUE that your underlings really can’t understand your plans, you need a Complete Idiot’s Guide to My Diabolical Plan handy so that they can at least efficiently carry out their part of it.

         Thornfalcon: And as the above advice hints, perhaps being forced to create a clear and simplified description will reveal, well, some heretofore unforeseen slight weaknesses in your grand scheme.

         Endgame: Hmph. Yes, I suppose. Although I would note that creating your Idiot’s Guide will inevitably lead to one of those guides falling into the Heroes’ hands at an inconvenient time.

         Amanita: I would transform someone who said such a rude thing to me into something that couldn’t talk!

         Dark Wanderer: Aaand we see here someone who didn’t even listen to the discussion.

  62. I will design fortress hallways with no alcoves or protruding structural supports which intruders could use for cover in a firefight.

         Virigar: I’m not entirely sure I agree.

         Master Wieran: Yes. The problem is that in the event of an invasion, the same alcoves and structural supports could also provide cover for MY troops.

         M-S: My preference would be for automated defenses which constantly spray the almost featureless hallway with either stun rounds or lethal ones, whichever seems appropriate.

         Dark Wanderer: Ooo, the old “Automated Defenses” approach. Ten to one the heroes will THEN have with them some UberHacker who — in defiance of all known laws of computer operation, security, and logic — will take control of the defenses using a cell phone call to your switchboard. No, never count on automated defenses — be they computers, golems, whatever. Someone will come and use the Riddle of Horus on them or something.

         Thornfalcon: Very true. Or they’ll have some companion – say, a very small Toad who fits places you don’t expect – who can bypass your automated defenses.

         Endgame: I agree about both the hallways and the defenses. You need both – automated defenses, layered with thinking living defenses. Fortunately, I myself can generate both.

         Amanita: I don’t know what an “uberhacker” is, but my “automated” defenses are both mystically loyal and quite self-aware. Very hard to get past.

  63. Bulk trash will be disposed of in incinerators, not compactors. And they will be kept hot, with none of that nonsense about flames going through accessible tunnels at predictable intervals.

         Virigar: Not a problem for those who don’t keep large bases.

         Master Wieran: There are perfectly good reasons NOT to burn all trash. Sometimes you, or another, can re-use parts of it. But certainly all waste-disposal areas should be designed to prevent their use as a hiding place or getaway route.

         M-S: I’d put sensors in them to let me know of any living thing larger than, oh, a mouse.

         Dark Wanderer: And that’s when you discover that your enemies have a shapeshifter who can assume the form of a mouse.

         Endgame: I’ll also note that in the classic example of this, the ONLY thing that permitted the heroes to walk out of it rather than be poured out as a runny red soup was that they had unsuspected and competent outside help. Well, one of the two was competent.

         Dark Wanderer: Yes, and as I mentioned before, the original plan was to allow them to escape. Still, that garbage disposal route would seem an unlikely part of the original plan, so they may have been in actual danger at that point.

  64. I will see a competent psychiatrist and get cured of all extremely unusual phobias and bizarre compulsive habits which could prove to be a disadvantage.

         Virigar: (laughing)

         Master Wieran: I HAVE no such problems, and I would never permit a lesser mind to attempt its feeble “therapy” on me.

         Maria-Susanna: Well, I wouldn’t put it so NASTILY, but really, I was DESIGNED to be perfect, I’m certainly not crazy or have any unusual phobias.

         Dark Wanderer: (with a glance at Maria-Susanna) Megalomania is pretty much standard for Evil Overlords.

         Thornfalcon: I admit to being unsure as to what this means, and Queen Amanita looks confused as well.

         Endgame: I think this is a reasonable-seeming idea which in practice none of us would be stupid enough to follow.

         Dark Wanderer: No doubt. The real danger is that if you actually WORK with the headshrinker, he’ll know far too much; and if you DON’T, not only might he STILL learn too much, you’ll be wasting time too.

  65. If I must have computer systems with publically available terminals, the maps they display of my complex will have a room clearly marked as the Main Control Room. That room will be the Execution Chamber. The actual main control room will be marked as Sewage Overflow Containment.

         Virigar: Oh, dear, dear, dear.

         Master Wieran: I see this as a parallel to the self-destruct argument. Yes?

         Maria-Susanna: Very much so, yes.

         Dark Wanderer: Yep. If you have publicly accessible terminals, your thugs will be using them too — otherwise the fact that no one in your own ranks touches them will warn the heroes that there’s something funny going on. And do you REALLY want an information system that lies to you, when some of your hirelings may not be as clever as you might like?

         Thornfalcon: I’m still fuzzy on these computer things, but it would seem that in this case it might help weed out the unfit. Still, yes, another “let’s make it too complicated” bit of advice.

         Endgame: Yes. Underlings will forget warnings, and Heroes will be lucky. Overthinking the situation will waste time and accomplish nothing.

  66. My security keypad will actually be a fingerprint scanner. Anyone who watches someone press a sequence of buttons or dusts the pad for fingerprints then subsequently tries to enter by repeating that sequence will trigger the alarm system.

         Virigar: Now THIS I like.

         Master Wieran: Or a soul-scanner, or something of the sort. Yes indeed.

         Maria-Susanna: As long as it’s just YOUR security keypad, or you always have the luxury of entering anyone new into the system before they’ll ever need to use it. The advantage of codes is that you don’t need to perform a special authorization procedure every time you get a new high-clearance employee.

         Dark Wanderer: True, but I think the advice is good. You could always have a code that you never use except for temporaries, and change it after each temp’s time is over.

         Thornfalcon: Ah, security locks. Yes, there are similar tricks one can use on them in a magical context. Good principle to think of.

  67. No matter how many shorts we have in the system, my guards will be instructed to treat every surveillance camera malfunction as a full-scale emergency.

         Virigar: (shakes head)

         Master Wieran: I do not believe this would work. You can only tell dolts to ignore things so many times.

         Maria-Susanna: Yes, this goes against some of the most fundamental principles of human behavior.

         Dark Wanderer: The “cry wolf” syndrome — no reference to our friend V, here. If you actually have any significant number of false positives, you CAN’T get people to keep treating them as full-scale emergencies.

         Thornfalcon: While the terminology is obscure, yes, I take your meaning. And all that running around would just create OTHER security openings after a while.

         Endgame: Yes. This is idiocy incarnate. If your security system produces any number of false alerts, it will be ignored; it becomes useless. Better to not have one at all.

         Amanita: Well, I admit I haven’t thought of such things, but that does make sense.

 

  68. I will spare someone who saved my life sometime in the past. This is only reasonable as it encourages others to do so. However, the offer is good one time only. If they want me to spare them again, they’d better save my life again.

         Virigar: Well, certainly. Good form all around.

         Master Wieran: I will certainly not do so, unless sparing his life is practical in other ways.

         Maria-Susanna: Oh, of course I will! Maybe he’ll come around to understand my way of thinking!

         Dark Wanderer: Er, yeah, good luck with that. But sure, I’ll do it.

         Thornfalcon: Hmm. In general, I’d agree, but I can see many possible exceptions I might make. Sometimes you betray when the time is right.

         Endgame: I care not for saving lives except my own. And in the end, perhaps not even that.

         Amanita: Oh, I’d have to almost save and then let him go! (laughs)

 

 

  69. All midwives will be banned from the realm. All babies will be delivered at state-approved hospitals. Orphans will be placed in foster-homes, not abandoned in the woods to be raised by creatures of the wild.

         Maria-Susanna: What? Don’t they realize that on average midwives improve infant survival rates?

         Virigar: This is referring to those charming tales in which a midwife delivers a child and can switch it around, hide it, and so on so that you don’t know a child of your enemy survived, or when an orphan is abandoned in the woods to die and comes back having learned special skills from the wolves or what have you.

         Master Wieran: I have no care for the breeding behavior of my subjects. If I find a child has learned amazing skills from the wolves, I’ll hire him to show ME how this was possible!

         Dark Wanderer: This is another of those plans that will backfire on you, just like the “kill all the kids born on X day” or “outfox the prophecy” in general.

         Thornfalcon: Oh, too true. Too simplistic and too complex at the same time!

         Endgame: I –

         Amanita: — will kill everyone, yes, we know, dear. I’m not quite clear on some of those terms, but I’m afraid our colleagues are right about the general consequences.

  70. When my guards split up to search for intruders, they will always travel in groups of at least two. They will be trained so that if one of them disappears mysteriously while on patrol, the other will immediately initiate an alert and call for backup, instead of quizzically peering around a corner.

         Virigar: Well, again, this assumes a base, lots of guards. I have a castle and a few trusted servants. And very good senses, when I feel I should use them.

         Master Wieran: These are basic tactics. Are they saying many evil overlords DON’T have such basic tactics as standard?

         Maria-Susanna: Well, it’s a reference to an awful lot of FAILED evil overlords. And of course part of the problem is the quality of the help you hire.

         Dark Wanderer: Yes. If your grunts were good enough to be trained as special forces types, would they be working as your grunts? Maybe, but maybe not.

         Thornfalcon: Indeed; quantity is almost always opposed to quality. There are some people that just won’t LEARN those kind of simple tactics. Especially if they’re with you long enough to have gotten used to routine patrols in which nothing happens.

         Maria-Susanna: Studies have shown that even well-trained people can end up unattentive and less competent if routine becomes too grinding; it’s called the “green-light” syndrome in some references.

  71. If I decide to test a lieutenant’s loyalty and see if he/she should be made a trusted lieutenant, I will have a crack squad of marksmen standing by in case the answer is no.

         Virigar: Ah, yes, the pitfall of assuming the result at the wrong time.

         Master Wieran: I prefer to IMPLANT the loyalty.

         Maria-Susanna: Evil little man. I’m sure that anyone who wants to work with me would be loyal. But there’s nothing wrong with insurance.

         Dark Wanderer: Indeed, indeed. While I prefer to work solo, if I had to work with someone I certainly wouldn’t let them get in a position to screw me over without having a little backup plan.

         Endgame: None of you see the obvious flaw? I am disappointed. By your own dramatic principles, the existence of the marksmen standing by will influence the lieutenant’s reaction (and do not, in any way, assume he won’t notice. He will, if it amuses the gods of drama).

         Amanita: I am, myself, better than any squad of “marksmen”.

  72. If all the heroes are standing together around a strange device and begin to taunt me, I will pull out a conventional weapon instead of using my unstoppable superweapon on them.

         Virigar: Another of those too-specific rules. As a more general rule, if the heroes have suddenly stopped their running and are taunting me, I will not respond to their taunts without carefully examining the area for a booby-trap.

         Master Wieran: Naturally. A sudden shift in behavior nearly always indicates that an additional factor has been introduced that was not previously accounted for.

         Maria-Susanna: Of course, this sort of thinking could become a sort of circular process.

         Dark Wanderer: Ohhhh, yeah, I see what you mean. “Ah, this guy’s a SMART evil overlord, so we can get him to run through the trap just by NOT taunting him”. And then –

         Thornfalcon: — we overlords start being cautious when they’re running and realize that their taunts are sheer bravado — indicators of the time to attack. And THEN we’re back to square one.

         Endgame: (shrugging) Perhaps it matters for all of you. For me? I know that whichever I decide on, it will be the other one, if the dramatic moment favors the heroes. Fighting destiny is very difficult and requires constant vigilance… and a willingness to accept that you will suffer multiple defeats first.

         Amanita: If they start taunting me, I’ll turn them into –

         Dark Wanderer: And this is why you’re the one who’ll end up as a toad.

         Poplock Duckweed: And just what’s wrong with that?

         Thornfalcon: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGG!!! 

         Dark Wanderer: Who let him in here? Out! Out! You’re not an evil overlord! You’re not even a villain!

         Poplock Duckweed: Well fine, Mr. Grumpymage. I’ll go rob your castle while you’re not in it.

         Dark Wanderer: HEY!

         

  73. I will not agree to let the heroes go free if they win a rigged contest, even though my advisors assure me it is impossible for them to win.

         Virigar: A rigged contest? Is there any other kind?

         Master Wieran: For one such as you, perhaps not. I, on the other hand, would never use such a useless trick. A contest is an experiment, a test, and “rigging” it violates the purity of the science behind it! Those petty tyrants who think to terrify with their arbitrary whims cannot understand the terror and beauty, the majesty and horror possible with a grasp of the True Nature of REALITY, the…(continue rant #51)

         Maria-Susanna: If I agree to any contest, it will be a fair one.

         Dark Wanderer: Well… as fair as any contest can be where one of the contestants is the product of a super-science project to produce the ultimate heroine or hero…

         Master Wieran (breaking off rant): Product of a SUPER-SCIENCE project? My VERY dear young lady, would you consider—

         Maria-Susanna (in a perky, cheerful tone): Complete that sentence and I will force-feed you your own balls. (*smile* ^_^)

         Thornfalcon: And NOW we see the other side of Miss Kind and Generous. I agree with the current statement, however – I might allow them to hope I would allow them to go free, but they would never have an actual chance.

         Endgame: Well, yes, I would agree to let them go free. Saying that wouldn’t bind me to do it.

         Amanita: Indeed, you get more fun that way! The expressions of betrayed trust are so funny!

         Virigar: In actuality, if I were to agree to such a condition, I would honor it. It is extremely useful for your adversaries to consider you trustworthy and honorable; this can be exploited so many ways. I may betray them in the very end, but only if the gain was undoubtedly worth the destruction of a carefully-cultivated appearance.

  74. When I create a multimedia presentation of my plan designed so that my five-year-old advisor can easily understand the details, I will not label the disk “Project Overlord” and leave it lying on top of my desk.

         Virigar: Somehow I don’t think “I”, in the sense of “Evil Overlord”, will be the problem here.

         Dark Wanderer: No, it’ll be the Perhaps Not Too Bright Lieutenant who will have made a COPY of the disk to study, and left it on HIS desk.

         Maria-Susanna: Or better yet, made a copy and carries it around on him, to be taken by the heroes when we surprise him and knock him unconscious.

         Thornfalcon: And she’s still convinced she’s on the other side.

  75. I will instruct my Legions of Terror to attack the hero en masse, instead of standing around waiting while members break off and attack one or two at a time.

         Virigar: No Legions, remember?

         Master Wieran: Well, yes, but the principle is clear. Many groups of warriors tend to hesitate and wait to see what happens to the first person to clash with an adversary. I, of course, have ENGINEERED my warriors and they, unlike the feeble and pathetic products of random evolution, have neither unreasoning emotions nor mechanical inflexibility, but instead are the very SYNTHESIS of perfection, taking precisely the correct actions under all circumstances! The world will (cue “World Will Tremble” rant)

         Maria-Susanna: But isn’t this something of a situational thing?

         Dark Wanderer: Yeah. While there’s plenty of examples of the Ring O’ Adversaries coming in one at a time, even if they try to mob the target, there’s a limit. More than four or so at once, how are you going to REACH him?

         Thornfalcon: And of course there’s the heroes that just take the Mob Attack as an opportunity to use that Devastating Area Effect Attack that they can’t use too often, but that your thugs have now made a terribly efficient way of eliminating the opposition.

         Endgame: That is the general way of things where I come from. The “mooks”, as they call such thugs, are at best disposable speed-bumps, and as such actually may be more effective in their delaying tactics by doing the one-at-a-time approach rather than trying to hogpile the Hero at once and allowing him to do an “AWAY FROM ME!” explosion of power that takes them all out.

         Amanita: Well, the other tactic is to keep making more “mooks”, as you call them. Even the most powerful hero will eventually collapse from exhaustion.

  ⁃ 

  76. If the hero runs up to my roof, I will not run up after him and struggle with him in an attempt to push him over the edge. I will also not engage him at the edge of a cliff. (In the middle of a rope-bridge over a river of molten lava is not even worth considering.)

         Virigar: This is probably good advice… for those of us afraid of a little fall.

         Master Wieran: *I* will not run after him at all. I will send my TROOPS after him.

         Maria-Susanna: I believe the idea here is that you don’t HAVE anyone else available — the Hero has killed or incapacitated them all, or locked the doors (the invincible doors you constructed yourself, of course) to keep anyone else from interfering.

         Dark Wanderer: And it’s ANOTHER of the “depends on conditions” ones. If he’s running to the roof to escape and you can’t afford the escape, well, what choices do you have? (as for the fall – Ring of Regeneration. There’s a reason I wear it all the time.)

         Thornfalcon: Oh, yes, that is very useful. Of course, the inherent ability to FLY rather neutralizes these issues too. If falling isn’t a threat, of course one can have a bit of a conflict atop the high building.

         Endgame: (chuckling) And that’s when your Hero somehow ruins the device or spell you are using to fly, and sends you plummeting to the ground while making use of your own power to just barely reach safety. The Ring you mention is a bit better; it plays to the dramatics well, as you can appear to die quite spectacularly and return later.

         Amanita: Why would he be running to the roof? I don’t keep anything in particular there. All the valuable and dangerous materials are somewhere inside.

         Dark Wanderer: Then you, milady, are obviously better prepared than mamny of the victims of these rules.

  77. If I have a fit of temporary insanity and decide to give the hero the chance to reject a job as my trusted lieutentant, I will retain enough sanity to wait until my current trusted lieutenant is out of earshot before making the offer.

         Virigar: I think we can just all agree on this one, can’t we? Yes? Good, then onward.

  78. I will not tell my Legions of Terror “And he must be taken alive!” The command will be “And try to take him alive if it is reasonably practical.”

         Virigar: I assure you, there are times when this is not an option.

         Master Wieran: Indeed. And I assure you that if *I* say he MUST be taken alive, I MEAN that he must be taken alive.

         Maria-Susanna: Why would you need the hero alive? Not, mind you, that I object, being a heroine and all.

         Dark Wanderer: Oh, often it’s something like “must be sacrificed at midnight” or “prophecy says that he must live to see his world destroyed”, or “I want to swallow his soul myself, which is difficult when he’s already dead”.

         Thornfalcon: Of course, if the Overlord is male and we’re talking a Heroine, there may be other … more entertaining reasons.

         Virigar: Yes, but we discussed how that particular approach doesn’t work earlier.

         Amanita: True, but it’s still a reason. And could be a reason for a female Overlord and a male Hero, I wish to point out.

         Dark Wanderer: Yes, quite so. We shouldn’t allow the sexist attitudes to prevent us from making a good showing here.

  ⁃ 

  79. If my doomsday device happens to come with a reverse switch, as soon as it has been employed it will be melted down and made into limited-edition commemorative coins.

         Virigar: Eh? What DO they teach them in these schools?

         Master Wieran: Indeed. What is that supposed to MEAN?

         Maria-Susanna: I can parse that. Unfortunately, I can parse it too many ways.

         Dark Wanderer: Yeah. As soon as “it” has been employed. Is “it” the doomsday device or the reverse switch? And if it’s the doomsday device, why would I melt it down if it has a reverse switch — I might want to threaten the world with it again someday! And if it’s the reverse switch, er, why do I want to remove it from my doomsday device? Getting a bit depressed, planning on the old “screw all you guys” approach? (glances at Endgame) Well, okay, a few people might be going down that path, but for most of us…

         Thornfalcon: Yes, I think we’d best just ignore this one and maybe it will go away.

 

  80. If my weakest troops fail to eliminate a hero, I will send out my best troops instead of wasting time with progressively stronger ones as he gets closer and closer to my fortress.

         Dark Wanderer: Oooh! Oooh! I know this one! We used to call this the Trooper Training Program, from Yoroiden Samurai Troopers! The kids start out weak and with no knowledge of how to use their powers, but the careful escalation on the part of Arago and his troopers helps to Pump Them Up!

         Virigar: It’s good advice in the general case, but there are so many potential exceptions.

         Thornfalcon: For example, your best troops are being used to hold off other threats, and while you PROBABLY could afford to remove them to deal with the heroes, well, you don’t KNOW that they’re The Heroes yet.

         Master Wieran: Communication is key. If, like some despots I know, your entire organization is built around the idea that… oh, what was the term one of you travellers used… Ah yes, sh*t flows downhill, then you have a situation in which each echelon does NOT want to admit problems or failure.

         Maria-Susanna: Oh, yes. DuQuesne’s creator painted that one so well in the Lensman books.

         Amanita: If you manufacture your troops, loyalty and cooperation are not a problem.

         Thornfalcon: Ahh, milady, that is unfortunately not always possible for the rest of us. So, basically the issue here is make sure that there’s communication up and down the line, and that “shooting the messenger” is not done.

 

Just For Fun: The Annotated Evil Overlord, part 3

 

For convenience, I’m including our panel listing in each post.

Our Expert Panel

We have assembled for this special conference several fine villains who have wreaked havoc throughout the known multiverse. Let’s meet them:

Virigar. King of the Great Werewolves and progenitor of the species, Virigar is the most-feared monster on all of Zarathan. A soul-eating, nearly indestructible being, Virigar’s age is unknown, his full powers a mystery. He has killed gods and demons and men, shrugged off or consumed spells and energy weapons, and survived multiple planned attempts to destroy him. His only known weaknesses are silver weapons, and — of course — other soul-destroying beings or weapons. Seen in Digital Knight (and more in the expanded version Paradigms Lost to be released in late 2014) and implied in his existence in Phoenix Rising. In his true form he is a nine-foot-tall fur-covered monstrosity with diamond teeth and claws eight to twelve inches long, vaguely wolflike but much more alien; while he can take on any shape, his preferred guise is a handsome young man (late 20s, early 30s) very much like a young Robert Redford.
Master Wieran. Cold, analytical, fanatical, Master Wieran is what modern people would call a mad scientist. Combining knowledge of alchemy and multiple branches of magical study, Wieran’s quest is to discover and analyze  the source of life, nay, the very source of reality itself — and he will sacrifice anything, and anyone, to achieve that goal. Tall, thin, white-haired though not ancient, with deep-set eyes in a narrow, ascetic face and usually wearing something that does look rather like a labcoat, Wieran looks exactly like what he is.
Maria-Susanna. Perhaps the most tragic result of the epically tragic Hyperion Project, Maria-Susanna (alluded to in Grand Central Arena and finally encountered in Spheres of Influence) is the idealized self-insert (yes, the Mary-Sue) of the Project’s driving force. The collapse of the project combined with the death of the man she was designed for drove her completely over the edge. She still believes she is the good guy — the very noblest of good guys — and her delusions will, and have, allowed her to rationalize away literally dozens of murders. A genetically engineered superwoman, Maria-Susanna is the very ideal of the beautiful blonde, and is also physically capable of taking on just about anyone. In addition, she’s educated in a huge number of disciplines and can do just about anything she puts her mind to.
The Dark Wanderer. One of the legendary heroes of Zarathan is “The Wanderer”, a hero supposedly from Earth itself who appeared several thousand years ago. Wizard, warrior, sage, trickster, he’s said to be many things. The Dark Wanderer is his moral mirror image, caused by something terrible that happened to the original. With a special immunity to destiny and a unique approach to mystical powers, the Dark Wanderer is one of the most terrifying of all possible enemies to those on the world of Zarathan… and almost no one knows he exists… yet.
Thornfalcon. The major adversayr revealed at the end of Phoenix Rising, Thornfalcon is a swordsman, a would-be bard, a lover and a hero… and actually a psychopathic serial killer with very high functionality, empowered by something that can at the least imitate a god, and a manipulator par excellence. Tall, slender, with a long, flexible actor’s face that can go from sympathetic to comedic to psychotic in a flash, the brown-haired Justiciar wears a bird-themed “Raiment” that is both defense and mystical weapon, and wields considerable power of his own, especially as his position as the favored agent of his “patron” has made him something more than merely human.
Endgame. One of the major villains in my currently-being-shopped-around superhero novel Stuff of Legend, Endgame is an Omnicidal Maniac with the power to make it believable that he WILL destroy the world if not stopped. What event or events in his life filled him with such hatred for all things is not known. He wears a dark armored costume with a cape, and is massively muscled. He is brilliant and extremely tenacious, but constrained in his behavior by the essential rules, so to speak, that govern super-beings’ interactions.
Amanita Verdant. Entering the discussion as of Point #8, Amanita is one  of the main villains in my to-be-Kickstartered Oz-based novel Polychrome, Amanita was once a Giantess whose first name is unknown, only being addressed as “Mrs Yoop” in her canonical appearance. Having been transformed in such a manner that prohibited her from ever again regaining her true form, she has taken on the shape of a supernaturally beautiful young human woman with green hair and eyes. Amanita is an absolute master of transformation magics, and understands others quite well. She is also quite utterly insane, although able to disguise it well under most conditions. Part of her issues probably stem from her treatment (implied) by her husband, for whom she shows no concern at all when she knows he was captured, dragged off, and imprisoned in an isolated cage in the mountains.

 

The Annotated Evil Overlord, Part 3

      

  40. I will be neither chivalrous nor sporting. If I have an unstoppable superweapon, I will use it as early and as often as possible instead of keeping it in reserve.

         Virigar: I *AM* an unstoppable superweapon, and I’ll keep as much of me in reserve as I like.

         Master Wieran: While I do not enjoy the advantages of your age and power, the simple fact of the matter — to any halfway competent mind, of which there are tragically few — is that “unstoppable superweapon” is a condition, not a device. For any superweapon that can be devised, a defense can also be devised in time, or else there are limitations on its use.

         Maria-Susanna: Exactly right, Master Wieran. The old USA did not use nuclear weapons on every minor squabble because it was literally overkill, and dirty overkill at that.

         Dark Wanderer: This is both a matter of Good Form and of practicality. If you use your superweapon at every opportunity, someone may actually figure out a defense (or how to defuse the weapon). It will CERTAINLY draw attention to the weapon and its installation, etc., and that’s not necessarily a good thing. A certain Mr. Vader and his erstwhile boss Tarkin found THAT out.

         Thornfalcon: Not that I am familiar with those gentlemen personally, but I am very much familiar with keeping a great power in reserve, for use in the final – or, perhaps, after the final – extremity.

         Endgame: The unstoppable superweapons that I – or other villains of my acquaintance – have usually also include the stricture of time to put them into effect. The Hellvortex has multiple conditions necessary to activate it.

         Amanita: Oh, I have so many superweapons, I’ll always have one in reserve, so why not send a few out now?? (laughs)

 

  41. Once my power is secure, I will destroy all those pesky time-travel devices.

         Virigar: Once more?

         Dark Wanderer: “Oh, that trick NEVER works.”.

         Master Wieran: Have NONE of these putative overlords recognized the essential inevitable progress of Science? That despite all the efforts of the pea-brained masses and their pompously arrogant yet slow-witted overlords, the great discoveries of their superiors cannot be forever repressed? Fools! They believe that by closing their eyes to the truth they can make it go away, yet [rant #22]

         Maria-Susanna: And he’s off again. Well, without interrupting him I’ll just agree with the general point. You cannot put that genie back into the bottle.

         Thornfalcon: Time travel? I did not realize this was possible!

         Endgame: Playing with time is difficult, and usually futile in the end. Certainly it is futile to attempt to keep the related technolgy secret.

         Amanita: If it is possible, I would like to go back and change a few teeny-tiny things…

         Dark Wanderer (sotto voce): I’ll just bet you would…

  42. When I capture the hero, I will make sure I also get his dog, monkey, ferret, or whatever sickeningly cute little animal capable of untying ropes and filching keys happens to follow him around.

         Virigar: Now THIS I agree with. I’ll probably just EAT the thing.

         Master Wieran: If it’s a common creature it will be disposed of. Otherwise I am sure the creature will serve some purpose after I have suitably modified it.

         Maria-Susanna: How horrid! I’ll just try to keep it restrained and have someone follow it so it can’t get into trouble.

         Dark Wanderer: Treecat in a blender. It’s what’s for dinner!

         Thornfalcon: I would generally agree. Unless you can somehow gain control over the sickeningly cute companion creature, yes, kill it. If you can control it, now, what a marvelous opportuniity to really raise the hero’s spirits and then dash them.

         Endgame: Again, I say I kill everything. But in principle, yes, the perky little sidekick animal is undoubtedly much more dangerous than it looks. Kill it.

         Amanita: I would prefer to replace it with a perfect copy… loyal to me, of course.

         Dark Wanderer: Hm. A nice idea, but often there’s some kind of soul/mental bond that would make it really hard to work up a convincing fake.

 

  43. I will maintain a healthy amount of skepticism when I capture the beautiful rebel and she claims she is attracted to my power and good looks and will gladly betray her companions if I just let her in on my plans.

         Virigar: Not a problem with me, of course.

         Master Wieran: Nor for me.

         Maria-Susanna: It’s a bit disappointing that this tactic seems no longer so effective. The villains just don’t have the clueless lechery they used to.

         Dark Wanderer: Now, now, let’s not start this pining for the Good Old Days. I agree with the principle, although I would welcome any attempts on your part to sway my judgment.

         Thornfalcon: So would I, though she has threatened parts of me I would prefer to keep. The actual heroine, however… well, I would of course welcome her advances, and make sure that she was eventually in no position to change her mind.

         Maria-Susanna: You’re starting to creep me out.

         Endgame: I will laugh at her and incinerate her in view of her companions. Not that that will keep her dead, mind you, but the feeling is very satisfactory.

         Amanita: Oh, yes – changing this to the hero, of course – I would welcome his advances… and change his mind over time. I can be very persuasive.

         Master Wieran: The weak-minded deserve the doom that such reliance on hormonal impulses leads them to.

 

  44. I will only employ bounty hunters who work for money. Those who work for the pleasure of the hunt tend to do dumb things like even the odds to give the other guy a sporting chance.

         Virigar: This is perilously close to calling what *I* do “dumb”, something I would never tolerate.

         Master Wieran: The statement has a point, but only half a point. Those who do it purely for money can sometimes be bought off by the target, and then they come and lie about it. Those in it for the sport aren’t able to be “bought off”, in general.

         Maria-Susanna: You know, I’d never thought of it that way, but yes, that’s true.

         Dark Wanderer: I’ll just employ a large number of them and hope one of them actually hits the target.

         Thornfalcon: Better screen them carefully, too. Nothing worse than hiring a bounty hunter with a conscience that suddenly decides he’d rather switch than fight.

         Endgame: Speaking from personal experience, I presume?

         Thornfalcon: Yes. How sharper than a serpent’s tooth is the blade of a Tor master.

         Endgame: This is also rather… world-dependent. Any enemy capable of threatening me is so utterly beyond any ordinary assassin or bounty hunter that at most they’ll provide a momentary distraction.

         Amanita: Oh, come now, Endgame dear. There must be some ‘super-powered’ beings who will work for money.

         Endgame: I concede that there are a few, but I know of none on a level that matters.

         Amanita: In any case, I prefer to make my hunters, not hire them. Hirelings, so utterly unpredictable.

         Master Wieran: In this case, I must express my strong agreement with you, Queen Amanita. A most practical viewpoint!

 

  45. I will make sure I have a clear understanding of who is responsible for what in my organization. For example, if my general screws up I will not draw my weapon, point it at him, say “And here is the price for failure,” then suddenly turn and kill some random underling.

         Virigar: Hm. This sort of thing may actually stem from overlords who have a natural impulse to kill off the source of bad news or failure, but who recognize that the failure may not be entirely the fault of the general, et cetera.

         Master Wieran: Still a waste. Poor impulse control is not the hallmark of a man worthy of rulership.

         M-S: And it would be so cruel!

         Dark Wanderer: Hello? “Evil Overlord”? Cruelty is just one of the fine traits a good Evil Overlord possesses and, in fact, should cultivate. Hard to be an Evil Overlord if you’re all reasonable and polite and considerate. Still, I agree with Virigar. This is someone trying to follow the advice of not killing the messenger, nor punishing good men for the inevitable occasional setback, but unable to leave it at just that.

         Thornfalcon: Assuming that this is the general’s first screwup and I feel that he isn’t deserving of death, I might suggest a better tactic would be to shoot, or stab, or whatever, very near my general and note to him that the next time I will not miss. Of course, if the subordinate actually was responsible for the failure, I’ll kill him and note that the general needs to choose his subordinates better.

         Endgame: You are all remarkably tolerant of failure.

         Amanita: Well, as I understand it you’ve failed in your goals at least once or twice… why haven’t you killed yourself yet?

         Dark Wanderer: You have a point; those so intolerant of others’ failure seem oddly unwilling to apply the same intolerance to themselves.

         Endgame: (glowering) Bah.

 

  46. If an advisor says to me “My liege, he is but one man. What can one man possibly do?”, I will reply “This,” and kill the advisor.

        (Unanimous Agreement)

  

  47. If I learn that a callow youth has begun a quest to destroy me, I will slay him while he is still a callow youth instead of waiting for him to mature.

         Virigar: Now where’s the fun in THAT? Unless you actually are so weak that you think the single callow youth is already a threat.

         Master Wieran: It is a matter of pulling up the weeds before they take over the garden. Yes, yes, I know, you have that “form” issue. It’s utter twaddle. There may be more reasonable motives to keep from just killing the callow youth, but the rest of us don’t have your immortality. YET.

         Maria-Susanna: Killing people immediately removes any chance of convincing them of the justice of your position. Or, I suppose, if you are an Evil Overlord, of converting them to the Dark Side.

         Dark Wanderer: Precisely my feelings. Certainly “Good Form” plays a part, but so many things can happen between the beginning of the quest and its end.

         Thornfalcon: I confess to being somewhat torn on the issue. It was, after all, a formerly callow youth – or, rather, a pair of them – that killed me in one reality. Yet many of the False Justiciars began themselves as innocent callow youths and later became quite useful companions.

         Endgame: My rational side agrees, but my soul and the requirements of my existence sneer at the idea. There’s far more satisfaction in crushing an opponent at the height of their power than when they barely realize they might have any.

         Amanita: Oh, now, I might choose to let the callow youth find me… in a suitable guise. By the time I’m done, he’ll have forgotten the whole point of his original journey.

         Thornfalcon: You realize one of the callow youths that did me in was a lovely young woman?

         Amanita: Oh? Hmmm… (thinks) I suppose I could try the same tactic anyway.

         Dark Wanderer: Intriguing. I wish to subscribe to your newsletter.

         Amanita: What?

 

  48. I will treat any beast which I control through magic or technology with respect and kindness. Thus if the control is ever broken, it will not immediately come after me for revenge.

         Virigar: I rarely have had to do such things, but the philosophy is accurate.

         Master Wieran: While for me, this is my very LIFEBLOOD. My creations are my children, the children of my mind and will. I will treat them as such, show them their destiny. Admittedly some training and education methods may be painful…

         Maria-Susanna: Monster.

         Dark Wanderer: Now, now, we’re all friendly monsters here. For now. But indeed, if you’re keeping a monster as a guard or pet, making it pissy at you isn’t the brightest thing you can do.

         Thornfalcon: Yes, indeed. Feed them, house them, and make sure they recognize that their existence hinges on your own well-being. Or just have a bunch of abominations read-made for summoning upon your death, when how they were treated won’t matter.

         Master Weiran: You’re welcome, by the way.

         Thornfalcon: Well, they didn’t have quite the effect I wanted, but I suppose that’s not your fault. Thank you.

         Endgame: I agree with the basic position. If you create or capture some monster one presumes you have a purpose for it, and in very few cases will that purpose be well-served by angering it at you. Even if in the end you intend to destroy all.

         Amanita: I can create my monsters with a built-in loyalty that is not dependent on how I treat them. Although I tend to be very kind to the little dears anyway; they’re so much fun to watch when they go after heroes!

  49. If I learn the whereabouts of the one artifact which can destroy me, I will not send all my troops out to seize it. Instead I will send them out to seize something else and quietly put a Want-Ad in the local paper.

         Virigar: What sort of idiocy is THAT?

         Master Wieran: I suppose the writer is working from some vague idea that sending out the troops lets the heroes know where the artifact is.

         Maria-Susanna: Well, yes. But logically, that really doesn’t hold water, does it?

         Dark Wanderer: Yeah, I think we’re all agreed that this is stupid. If you KNOW where it is, you DO send your forces out, in a lightning raid in overwhelming force. With well-informed lieutenants leading the strike so as to make sure of recovering it.

         Thornfalcon: Oh, indubitably. After all, assuming that “want-ads” exist in your home dimension – I am fuzzy on the concept but I think I grasp the essence — if your adversaries aren’t idiots, they’ll probably NOTICE when you put the ad in. And an Evil Overlord meekly taking out an ad in the paper is a dead giveaway that he’s trying something sneaky.

         Endgame: Correct. But I believe the real scenario which the writers intended to describe, but failed to, is that if you learn of the EXISTENCE of the artifact, spell, whatever that can destroy you or thwart your plans to conquer the universe, you send out a dozen strikeforces in all directions searching for the thing in the most blunt-instrument way imaginable. THAT tips the Heroes off to the fact that there’s something you’re really worried about, and THEY may have some vital information you lack that tells them WHERE too look.

         Amanita: But Endgame, wouldn’t your own… constraints, as you’ve put it… require you to do something like that?

         Endgame: No, in fact. While there are constraints of dramatics, I am not required to – as a certain reference site called ‘TVTropes’ puts it – carry the Idiot Ball. Dramatics will of course require that the heroes have some way of discovering I am looking for said artifact, but it doesn’t have to be through my ham-handed incompetence, thank Darkness.

      

 

  50. My main computers will have their own special operating system that will be completely incompatible with standard IBM and Macintosh powerbooks.

         Virigar: Yet another one far too specific to be applicable.

         Master Wieran: I know nothing of these “computers”, and my Books of Power will MAKE things compatible with my plans!

         Maria-Susanna: Entirely different LANGUAGE, Master Wieran.

         Dark Wanderer: You’re right, big V, too specific, and not even accurate. Let’s try this reformulation which is much closer to the ACTUAL problem and one more generally applicable: “I will make sure that all equipment superior to that of my enemies is carefully accounted for. In the event that some falls into the enemy’s hands, I will either (A) retrieve it, (B) destroy it, or, if both of the latter are impossible, (C) modify my plans to assume that they will be able to understand and incorporate that technology into their own plans. I WILL NOT PERMIT A SHIP WHICH HAS BEEN IN ENEMY HANDS FOR 40 YEARS TO DOCK WITH MY MOTHERSHIP!”

         Endgame: Ah, yes, THAT one. Indeed, a much better general formulation.

         Thornfalcon: I don’t know your specific example, but by the Balance that’s a very good principle to follow.

         Master Wieran: Was that the real gist of that nonsensical question? In that case, I agree completely! If my adversaries possess anyone with even a glimmering of intelligence among them – and if they do not, how could they even consider opposing me? – then I must assume that they could follow my example and unravel my secrets if an actual sample were to fall into their hands.

         Amanita: Oooh, yes. There are some artifacts that are simply wonderful and we don’t want to lose track of them and find they’re being used against us.

         Dark Wanderer: Well, not quite the same, milady. Techology, or technologically-oriented  mystical powers, such as our friend Master Wieran uses, present the very disconcerting possibility of being copied and produced on larger scales against us. Not so common with the more strictly mystical.

  51. If one of my dungeon guards begins expressing concern over the conditions in the beautiful princess’ cell, I will immediately transfer him to a less people-oriented position.

         Virigar: Oh, yes, indeed. I don’t know WHAT it is about the Beautiful Princess types, but there does seem to be SOMETHING.

         Master Wieran: I use other sorts of… guards which do not have these issues.

         Virigar: I have seen the effect work on things not even vaguely human, my alchemically-oriented friend, so I would not be so confident.

         M-S: Well, I would maintain very pleasant cells if I had to imprison someone, so I’m sure the issue would never arise.

         Dark Wanderer: If I had guards, I’d definitely keep an eye on that sort of thing.

         Thornfalcon: Oh, indeed. The same general principle gave us not a little trouble – infatuated young men can be so unreasonable at times.

         Endgame: If I have to keep them prisoners, I’ll do so in a way that doesn’t require guards.

         Amanita: Hmm… well, that can be done, yes, but sometimes that kind of prison’s just too much trouble. And then you have to guard against this kind of trouble.

  52. I will hire a team of board-certified architects and surveyors to examine my castle and inform me of any secret passages and abandoned tunnels that I might not know about.

         Virigar: Yes indeed.

         Master Wieran: I actually DID that. There were just unbelievable numbers of secret passages in that castle. I swear it took longer for the masons to seal them all off than it did for them to construct my laboratory complex.

         Maria-Susanna: I’d level the old palace and build a new one. If I was that sort.

         Dark Wanderer: I’m with you, Milady. I built my headquarters from the ground up.

         Thornfalcon: The problem with you two is you have no sense of history. A three thousand year old complex of ruins, catacombs, and so on, wonderful ATMOSPHERE you know. But yes, definitely survey it, or at least the crucial areas near you.

         Endgame: I will END history, so I am very much on the side of “build it from the ground up”.

         Amanita: Oh, I could do either one. But yes, yes, have someone – or several someones – search very thoroughly.

  53. If the beautiful princess that I capture says “I’ll never marry you! Never, do you hear me, NEVER!!!”, I will say “Oh well” and kill her.

         Virigar: Marriage. Not an option.

         Master Wieran: Killing is a waste.

         Maria-Susanna: This is such a SEXIST list too!

         Dark Wanderer: Well, you could substitute Handsome Prince, too, and admittedly the genre has a pretty sexist history, but I agree about the waste.

         Thornfalcon: Exactly. Very well, I can’t marry her safely (assuming I don’t want to arrange that her mind gets changed for her), that doesn’t mean she’s not useful as a hostage, ransom, information source, weapon, what have you.

         Master Wieran: Excellent thinking. As I said, if she captured my attention to that level, she would clearly be worthy research material to determine what unique characteristics permitted such a thing.

         Endgame: If I assume I wanted to marry her, I have known… associates who could change her mind.

         Amanita: The Handsome Prince would hardly be able to say such a thing. I mean, really, can you imagine any young man saying that to me?

         Dark Wanderer: I admit it takes some doing to imagine, but someone who knows your heart might see that instead of the body.

         Amanita: What do you mean by that crack?

         Endgame: That your heart is as dark and corrupt as my own, and if you deny it, it is also deluded. Ha!

  54. I will not strike a bargain with a demonic being then attempt to double-cross it simply because I feel like being contrary.

         Virigar: I will double-cross if that’s in the nature of the beings and the bargains.

         Master Wieran: I do not BARGAIN with demonic beings. I summon them, give directives, and if they do not cooperate… there are uses for them.

         Maria-Susanna: If you bargain, you should keep your end of the bargain.

         Dark Wanderer: This all depends on why you make bargains with them. Certainly it’s a bad idea to do this when the reason you bargained with the demon to begin with is for power you didn’t have in the first place. That would imply the demon has enough power to kick your pansy ass.

         Thornfalcon: Which is really a good indication that you’re not really Evil Overlord material. You’ll end up at best being the demon’s flunky.

         Endgame: (grinning) True enough.

         Amanita: I take it that you have played the demonic part?

         Endgame: Most certainly. And she is now finding it a most costly bargain.

         Dark Wanderer: Now, tricking the demon into THINKING you want to make a bargain and then sucking the power from its dark soul, that’s another thing.

         Virigar: NOW you’re talking, my friend.

  ⁃ 

  55. The deformed mutants and odd-ball psychotics will have their place in my Legions of Terror. However before I send them out on important covert missions that require tact and subtlety, I will first see if there is anyone else equally qualified who would attract less attention.

         Virigar: I wonder what the references are here.

         Master Wieran: The problem may be that in the service of Evil Overlords one often finds people of … different moral outlook and rather extreme experiences, which makes them stand out a bit.

         Maria-Susanna: Oh. Yes, I suppose so. I wouldn’t know anything about that.

         Dark Wanderer: Oh, no, of course not.  Yeah, there’s a number of instances of the main servants of the Evil Overlord having, um, social issues that made it harder for them to carry out their more civil, less destructive, duties. Yes, Dilandau, I’m looking STRAIGHT at you.

         Thornfalcon: A good general rule, actually. Select the right lieutenant for the right job. If you want the city left intact, don’t send the general with the reputation for employing the cleansing wind of fire in every circumstance.

         Endgame: There are those servants with talents in subtlety… and those without.

         Amanita: Oh, yes. This is about things like wanting to spy out information in Gilgad, and not just sending in a hulking stone monster to beat the information out of people.

         Dark Wanderer: Er… something like that, yes. “Spy” generally means that hopefully the enemy doesn’t, and won’t ever, know that you were looking at his secrets in the first place. Hard to do with the “deformed mutants”, and the “oddball psychotics” often forget about the “subtle” part of the game plan.

  ⁃ 

  56. My Legions of Terror will be trained in basic marksmanship. Any who cannot learn to hit a man-sized target at 10 meters will be used for target practice.

         Virigar: No Legions of Terror, no problem.

         Master Wieran: Mine are BRED with instinctive marksmanship. They have no need of training.

         Maria-Susanna: I don’t have Legions of Terror, and any armies I command will have had proper military training. I’m an expert in that.

         Dark Wanderer: Actually, one of the most classic examples of this phenomenon turns out to NOT be an example. The classic Stormtrooper Marksmanship turns out to actually be very, very good, since the sequence in which they failed to hit or capture the heroes was actually PLANNED. They WANTED the heroes to escape, and think they actually HAD.

         Endgame: (surprised) I … had never realized that. Of course.

         Thornfalcon: Still, it’s a good principle to remember. Recruiting a lot of threatening thugs is no more useful than the training you give said thugs.

         Amanita: As I create my “thugs”, I believe I’m in more Master Wieran’s camp.

  57.   Before employing any captured artifacts or machinery, I will carefully read the owner’s manual.

         Virigar: Not that I’ve had to worry about this often, but this seems sensible advice.

         Master Wieran: Indeed. It should be evident to even the feeblest intellect that just activating a device whose operation you do not understand is the sort of thing that tends to end in disaster.

         Maria-Susanna: And yet people of apparently much more capable intellects do just that all the time.

         Dark Wanderer: I suppose it’s excusable if you’re backed into a corner and your only choice is to use the Dark Evil Device you just captured –

         Thornfalcon: — but then you shouldn’t be surprised to discover that it will suck out your soul to power it, or funnel its maker’s mind into yours, et cetera. After all, what would YOU design such a device to do if operated by a fool?

         Endgame: Precisely. If somehow one of my final constructions fell into other hands, activating it would inevitably lead to my triumph, not theirs.

         Amanita: Oh. I suppose that’s why I have dear Ugu looking at things more carefully. But then, I do my own work, mostly, not using other people’s.

  ⁃ 

  58. If it becomes necessary to escape, I will never stop to pose dramatically and toss off a one-liner.

         Master Wieran: Oh, very well, I’ll say it. BAD FORM! That said, I agree with the advice and you are all childish fools — except the invincible werewolf — to think otherwise.

         Dark Wanderer: (in a James Earl Jones voice) You don’t know the POWER of the One Liner.

         Virigar: Oh, a parting shot is always justified, unless it would ruin a better one by my opposition.

         Maria-Susanna: That’s … unusually courteous of you.

         Thornfalcon: Comes with the “play by the rules” bit that he follows, I expect. If the heroes are doing well enough to force your escape, you owe them that. In my case, it would be a bit hard to resist.

         Endgame: (sighing) Almost impossible to resist.

         Amanita: What exactly is a “one-liner”?

  59. I will never build a sentient computer smarter than I am.

         Master Wieran: Again, the problem isn’t making it smarter, it’s not making it LOYAL enough.

         Maria-Susanna: The problem is that even if you install safeguards, something a lot smarter than you may find holes in those safeguards that YOU didn’t notice. (Smiles sweetly) Hyperion’s … designers discovered that.

         Virigar: Again, this is one issue I need never worry about.

         Dark Wanderer: I confess to having a touch of Frankenstein fear; I have no intention of creating my own nemesis.

         Thornfalcon: Yet, if I understand your origin aright, you already DID.

         Dark Wanderer: Urk. You may have a point.

         Endgame: Technology is for those who think to build a civilization, not tear it down.

         Amanita: I don’t exactly know what a “computer” is, but I would most certainly be cautious about making a construct whose intellect was greater than mine.

  60. My five-year-old child advisor will also be asked to decipher any code I am thinking of using. If he breaks the code in under 30 seconds, it will not be used. Note: this also applies to passwords.

         Virigar: I think we’re all agreed to just swap out our other choice of advisor.

         (All): Agreed.

  ⁃ 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just For Fun: The Annotated Evil Overlord, Part 2

For convenience, I’m including our panel listing in each post.

Our Expert Panel

We have assembled for this special conference several fine villains who have wreaked havoc throughout the known multiverse. Let’s meet them:

Virigar. King of the Great Werewolves and progenitor of the species, Virigar is the most-feared monster on all of Zarathan. A soul-eating, nearly indestructible being, Virigar’s age is unknown, his full powers a mystery. He has killed gods and demons and men, shrugged off or consumed spells and energy weapons, and survived multiple planned attempts to destroy him. His only known weaknesses are silver weapons, and — of course — other soul-destroying beings or weapons. Seen in Digital Knight (and more in the expanded version Paradigms Lost to be released in late 2014) and implied in his existence in Phoenix Rising. In his true form he is a nine-foot-tall fur-covered monstrosity with diamond teeth and claws eight to twelve inches long, vaguely wolflike but much more alien; while he can take on any shape, his preferred guise is a handsome young man (late 20s, early 30s) very much like a young Robert Redford.
Master Wieran. Cold, analytical, fanatical, Master Wieran is what modern people would call a mad scientist. Combining knowledge of alchemy and multiple branches of magical study, Wieran’s quest is to discover and analyze  the source of life, nay, the very source of reality itself — and he will sacrifice anything, and anyone, to achieve that goal. Tall, thin, white-haired though not ancient, with deep-set eyes in a narrow, ascetic face and usually wearing something that does look rather like a labcoat, Wieran looks exactly like what he is.
Maria-Susanna. Perhaps the most tragic result of the epically tragic Hyperion Project, Maria-Susanna (alluded to in Grand Central Arena and finally encountered in Spheres of Influence) is the idealized self-insert (yes, the Mary-Sue) of the Project’s driving force. The collapse of the project combined with the death of the man she was designed for drove her completely over the edge. She still believes she is the good guy — the very noblest of good guys — and her delusions will, and have, allowed her to rationalize away literally dozens of murders. A genetically engineered superwoman, Maria-Susanna is the very ideal of the beautiful blonde, and is also physically capable of taking on just about anyone. In addition, she’s educated in a huge number of disciplines and can do just about anything she puts her mind to.
The Dark Wanderer. One of the legendary heroes of Zarathan is “The Wanderer”, a hero supposedly from Earth itself who appeared several thousand years ago. Wizard, warrior, sage, trickster, he’s said to be many things. The Dark Wanderer is his moral mirror image, caused by something terrible that happened to the original. With a special immunity to destiny and a unique approach to mystical powers, the Dark Wanderer is one of the most terrifying of all possible enemies to those on the world of Zarathan… and almost no one knows he exists… yet.
Thornfalcon. The major adversayr revealed at the end of Phoenix Rising, Thornfalcon is a swordsman, a would-be bard, a lover and a hero… and actually a psychopathic serial killer with very high functionality, empowered by something that can at the least imitate a god, and a manipulator par excellence. Tall, slender, with a long, flexible actor’s face that can go from sympathetic to comedic to psychotic in a flash, the brown-haired Justiciar wears a bird-themed “Raiment” that is both defense and mystical weapon, and wields considerable power of his own, especially as his position as the favored agent of his “patron” has made him something more than merely human.
Endgame. One of the major villains in my currently-being-shopped-around superhero novel Stuff of Legend, Endgame is an Omnicidal Maniac with the power to make it believable that he WILL destroy the world if not stopped. What event or events in his life filled him with such hatred for all things is not known. He wears a dark armored costume with a cape, and is massively muscled. He is brilliant and extremely tenacious, but constrained in his behavior by the essential rules, so to speak, that govern super-beings’ interactions.
Amanita Verdant. Entering the discussion as of Point #8, Amanita is one  of the main villains in my to-be-Kickstartered Oz-based novel Polychrome, Amanita was once a Giantess whose first name is unknown, only being addressed as “Mrs Yoop” in her canonical appearance. Having been transformed in such a manner that prohibited her from ever again regaining her true form, she has taken on the shape of a supernaturally beautiful young human woman with green hair and eyes. Amanita is an absolute master of transformation magics, and understands others quite well. She is also quite utterly insane, although able to disguise it well under most conditions. Part of her issues probably stem from her treatment (implied) by her husband, for whom she shows no concern at all when she knows he was captured, dragged off, and imprisoned in an isolated cage in the mountains.

 

The Annotated Evil Overlord, Part 2

  21. I will hire a talented fashion designer to create original uniforms for my Legions of Terror, as opposed to some cheap knock-offs that make them look like Nazi stormtroopers, Roman footsoldiers, or savage Mongol hordes. All were eventually defeated and I want my troops to have a more positive mind-set.

         Virigar: As mentioned, I have no real need of Legions of Terror.

         Master Wieran: I MANUFACTURE my Legions, and if they need clothing, no lesser genius than I, myself, will design it! What do I care of other people’s imagery?

         Maria-Susanna: I *fight* against legions of terror and oppression, and if I must have an army they will look as just and noble as their cause.

         Dark Wanderer: So cloaked in black with demonic spiky chaos death armor. Got it.

         Maria-Susanna: Will you STOP?

         Dark Wanderer: ANYway, what IS this? Legions of Terror aren’t there to have positive mindsets, they exist to put down the rabble, oppress the peasants, and generally get across to everyone in the area that you’re an EVIL OVERLORD, not some namby-pamby Benevolent Monarch or even Enlightened Tyrant.

         Thornfalcon: Well, I tend to use mobs of monsters; they’re not so much for oppression as for shock, awe, and destruction. But your general point is well-taken.

         Endgame: As I have no intention of ruling, the question is moot.

         Dark Wanderer: I have to wonder why you’re here, then. This is the Evil Overlord critique, not the Compleat Guide to Omnicidal Maniacs. Ah well.

         Amanita: When you make your legions out of elemental energies or transformations, you don’t need a designer, their… unique look just happens. Take a look at our Temblors, Tempests, Torrents, and Infernos.

         Dark Wanderer: Available now for a limited time! But Wait! Order right now and you’ll receive TWO of each for the price of one, plus a bonus TURNIP TWADDLER!

         (others all look at him)

         Dark Wanderer: Fine. No one here understands culture. Next.

  22. No matter how tempted I am with the prospect of unlimited power, I will not consume any energy field bigger than my head.

         Virigar: I’ve consumed energy fields larger than your PLANET. Bring it on.

         Master Wieran: I do not “consume” energy fields. I will of course bring said energy under control and direct it for my ultimate goals.

         Maria-Susanna: Some of these references are so… obscure.

         Dark Wanderer: You’re right. I don’t even recognize the source for this one. I’m guessing something anime, but I haven’t a clue.

         Thornfalcon: I presume I can… make use of fairly powerful energy fields, but I would very much like to test my capabilities before eating anything, than you.

         Endgame: I am destruction; there is no power beyond me.

         Virigar (smiles)

         Amanita: Consume… energy fields. Why, what an… intriguing concept. Perhaps I will.

         Dark Wanderer: Oh, great, give the sociopathic sorceress ideas. I’m so glad I’m native to a different dimension.

         Maria-Susanna: There I am in agreement with you.

 

  23. I will keep a special cache of low-tech weapons and train my troops in their use. That way — even if the heroes manage to neutralize my power generator and/or render the standard-issue energy weapons useless — my troops will not be overrun by a handful of savages armed with spears and rocks.

         Virigar: My “troops” ARE weapons.

         Master Wieran: As are mine. But the general sentiment is correct. In my case, I will ensure that even in the event that all magical powers are negated, my perfected creations can STILL defeat even the most powerful enemies! Nothing shall stand before them!  They will [cue rant #9]

         M-S: Aside from the rant, I agree with the strategy.

         Dark Wanderer: Ditto.

         Thornfalcon: Training and coordination. Equipment is useless if your soldiers don’t know how best to use it, and the best soldier knows how to operate with any equipment… or none at all. We Justiciars –

         Dark Wanderer: False Justiciars. Villain, remember.

         Thornfalcon: Well, yes, that goes without saying. And I don’t say it, naturally, since I want people to assume I’m one of the good guys. But as I was saying, we False Justiciars are trained with no weapons or even armor as much as we are trained with our Raiment and special weapons.

         Endgame: My power is inherent, and I do not use troops for anything except distractions. But in principle… yes.

         Amanita: Ohhhh, so very important. Especially when the … endgame, if you’ll pardon the pun… involves someone who violates all the rules everyone else has to follow. Your troops have to be flexible.

         Dark Wanderer: Hmm — in one of the examples of “Overlord’s Troops overrun by savages armed with spears and rocks” that I can recall, the problem wasn’t that their weapons became useless, it was that they’d basically IGNORED the existence of the natives and didn’t take them seriously. I’d recommend any Evil Overlord put their troops through a periodic set of exercises in which their best Special Ops people are given the assignment to take out one of their well-trained but standard garrison groups using nothing but primitive techniques, and make sure the troops learn the lesson: sharp pointy rocks can still kill you as dead as a blaster or a fireball, and sneaky little natives with brains will beat complacent well-armed troops every time.

 

  24. I will maintain a realistic assessment of my strengths and weaknesses. Even though this takes some of the fun out of the job, at least I will never utter the line “No, this cannot be! I AM INVINCIBLE!!!” (After that, death is usually instantaneous.)

         Virigar: Definitely one must be realistic on one’s capabilities. I may have an advantage or three thousand there, but in some circumstances I am far more limited and it is well for me to remember that. As to the “this cannot be” line and its relatives… if the heroes have done their job well enough, they DESERVE the proper “shocked denial” performance. If they can actually manage to HURT me and SURPRISE me in the bargain, then I’ll give them what they’ve earned. It’s part of the game, just as their screams of horror as they realize all their efforts were for naught and I have won are MY due.

         Master Wieran: Invincibility is for my greatest creations. I am merely more brilliant than they can possibly imagine. Still, I must admit that remaining aware of the areas in which I am somewhat less capable, such as physical conflict, is and has been key to my survival. On the side issue, I will simply note that your preference for dramatics is not mine.

         Maria-Susanna: Knowing what you do and don’t do well is certainly a good idea! But I have to admit that, as a hero, it would be a bit disappointing to actually have come up with a brilliant last-ditch way to vanquish the villain and have him say “Oh, darn. Guess that’s it, then.”

         Dark Wanderer: Hey, it worked on Buffy! “Well… GOSH!” Still, while as a villain I would prefer not to be defeated at all, if I’m defeated, what I say will depend on HOW I’m defeated. I’m somewhat torn on the “style” requirement; being beaten will tend to piss me off. It’s not so much a game for me as it is for you, Virigar. Now, if any of your opponents are Japanese or anime fans, however, don’t EVER say “S.. SONNA BAKANA!” if you want to survive the next few minutes.

         Master Wieran: “Anime”?

         Maria-Susanna: We really all need to chip in and get the poor Mad Alchemist a cultural education.

         Thornfalcon: Well, I must admit that I have a hard time not speaking – that bardic tendency, you know – so I suppose that, given the chance, I’d want to go out with style, if I must.

         Endgame: Hmph. Yes, it’s a requirement, at least in my milieu, that some appropriately dramatic final words be spoken.

         Amanita: Oh, I much prefer not to be beaten at all. Fortunately I understand not only my strengths and weaknesses… but those of my opponents!

  ⁃ 

  25. No matter how well it would perform, I will never construct any sort of machinery which is completely indestructible except for one small and virtually inaccessible vulnerable spot.

         Virigar (dryly): Oh, you’d prefer it be completely indestructible except for many large and easily targeted spots?

         Master Wieran: I think they refer to devices as are found in poorly-thought-out tales which provide some critical weakness to an otherwise invincible foe.

         Maria-Susanna: Say, like silver bullets for a werewolf?

         Virigar: Your soul looks absolutely delicious, you know.

         Dark Wanderer: No threatening during our conference. I think this is another of those things where you just need to add a few caveats.

         Endgame: Such as assuming, as with the countdown, that if it has ANY weak spot your opposition can, and will, find it. Your device may be very useful… but do not depend on it.

         Master Wieran: Excellent point. As a corollary, ALWAYS have at least one, and preferably several, backup plans.

         (All): Agreed.

 

  26. No matter how attractive certain members of the rebellion are, there is probably someone just as attractive who is not desperate to kill me. Therefore, I will think twice before ordering a prisoner sent to my bedchamber.

         Virigar: It’s exceedingly unlikely any of my opposition are my own kind, and while I have used sexual interaction as one of my many weapons, it’s certainly not something that interests me with respect to any mortals.

         Master Wieran: ARE there idiots so driven by hormonal and power issues that they would DO such a thing? I assure you, if I found some female who was inherently so attractive that she actually distracted me from my research, she would BECOME research!

         Maria-Susanna: Well, on the positive side, that makes sure you won’t reproduce. This has to be a good thing. But I agree with this one. I mean, why would I *want* my enemy sent to join me in the location I’m most vulnerable? This is like the Marry the Princess one, only worse, as your intentions (if you’re a villain) are strictly DIShonorable.

         Dark Wanderer: I think it’s also much more divergent along gender lines. Supremely Evil Villannesses are much more likely to attempt seduction and corruption of the Hero or his Best Friend, while the male Evil Overlords are just trying to take whatever they want. While BOTH approaches are, in general, doomed to failure in the traditional mold, the particular one at hand is much more immediately dangerous; the typical Villainess Seduction approach tends to leave the Hero more willing to allow you to live.

         Amanita: While this is true, I wonder that none of you consider the use of proper transformations that make the transformed happy, or spells to force obedience – mind control, in short.

         Dark Wanderer: Always nice ideas, but the brainwashing tends to come apart at the most inconvenient times and then it’s stab-stab-stabby in the back.

         Amanita: Only if you have inadequate mind control powers or preparations, something *I* will not have to worry about.

         Virigar: AAAaaaaand we’re back to the “overconfidence and proper assessment of powers” issue, aren’t we?

  ⁃ 

  27. I will never build only one of anything important. All important systems will have redundant control panels and power supplies. For the same reason I will always carry at least two fully loaded weapons at all times.

         Virigar: Would any of us disagree?

         (After a pause) Dark Wanderer: Well, the only caveat I’d add is that sometimes there are things you CAN’T duplicate. Poor Sauron’s One Ring, for instance — he couldn’t very well make a Backup Ring. Devices using unique or nearly impossible to obtain substances, etc., will also not be practically duplicable.

         Master Wieran: Perfectly correct. Also, there are things which CAN be duplicated, but for which the time and effort would then cost you the window of opportunity for actually executing your plan. Making a Philosopher’s Stone took me 15 years; I could probably do it in 10 now, but the crucial confluence of events I need to take advantage of occurs in 4.

         Endgame: However, the basic point is one that any villain would be well to remember: backup plans for any and all failures, for you can rest assured you’ll be needing them.

 

  28. My pet monster will be kept in a secure cage from which it cannot escape and into which I could not accidentally stumble.

         Virigar (sharp grin): I *AM* my pet monster.

         Master Wieran: I CREATE my monsters. Supremely powerful creatures who are also inherently supremely LOYAL. I need no secure cages for most of them for they recognize their creator and give me the worship that is my due!

         Maria-Susanna: Oh, I see. You’re one of the sort I have to kill. People like YOU, thinking they can play god with other lifeforms regardless of their feelings, toys for your amusement, why, I –

         Dark Wanderer: Oh, dear. Take a couple of deep breaths and calm yourself. Yes, he’s a villain, but from a universe you’ll never enter, so he’s not your problem. I see this hit a tender spot for you. Anyway, I generally don’t create MONSTERS as such, and if I did, I’d follow Master Wieran’s principle.

         Thornfalcon: Much better to become the monster yourself, I think.

         Endgame: My … associate has her two brothers, who are certainly monsters. But they have quite a… sibling bond, so they meet the requirements. Yes, if you have some creature you depend on for victory, mistreating it is a fool’s game.

         Amanita: Nothing I create would dare fail to obey. No matter how I treat it.

         Dark Wanderer: You just go on thinking that.

  ⁃ 

  29. I will dress in bright and cheery colors, and so throw my enemies into confusion.

         Virigar: Does rather make it difficult to maintain the “Dark Lord” title, though.

         Dark Wanderer: Yes, and “the Pink Lord of Shininess” doesn’t quite have the same impact.

         Master Wieran: I wear white. A useful color in the laboratory, and generally the rabble do not see me anyway.

         Maria-Susanna: Oh, I LOVE bright colors. I mean, I have a very special Little Black Dress, but brilliant blues and greens bring out my eyes, I think…

         Dark Wanderer: And I’m sure I’d love to watch you model them all. I rather LIKE black, one thing that I DO have in common with my disgustingly good Other Self.

         Thornfalcon: In my case, my colors were rather dictated by my role. Now, after I achive the dominion I desire… Black for special occasions, but really, I’m not giving up my sense of style and fashion for the sake of evil.

         Endgame (with a short laugh): My name and purpose rather show my nature; the color of my costume comes from who I am.

         Amanita: Aside from a few specific circumstances, black is not my preferred color.

  30. All bumbling conjurers, clumsy squires, no-talent bards, and cowardly thieves in the land will be preemptively put to death. My foes will surely give up and abandon their quest if they have no source of comic relief.

         Virigar: A lovely thought, but in fact I suspect all you’ll achieve would be to make an epic which was much more gripping and exciting. Possibly the heroes would simply be grimmer, or, worse yet, would start to provide their own gentle comedic relief.

         Master Wieran: What a foolish idea. On the other hand, putting such incompetents out of the way would be a service to oneself as well, so whether it slows up the heroes or not isn’t really so important.

         Maria-Susanna: Now, if there were slick conjurers, dashing bards, and debonair thieves, that would be a different matter.

         Dark Wanderer: Been there, run that. I agree with the Big V; they’ll just roll their own. Probably using puns and literary references.

         Thornfalcon: I feel somewhat put out. Admittedly it’s a role I play, but I have on occasion been called a no-talent bard.

         Maria-Susanna: If it is a part you play, you should consider it a compliment. Not that I encourage people like you, but really, it shouldn’t bother you.

         Endgame: Bah. Wasting your energies killing a few useless comedians? If you could actually kill the heroes, you wouldn’t be trying such an indirect method to stop them and you’re already doomed to failure.

         Amanita (puzzled): I don’t really understand this one at all.

         Dark Wanderer: Alas, a common sort of tale, in which there is some incompetent in the party that provides tension-relieving amusement. I’ve actually always hated those aspects, so I’m all completely on board with killing them just for fun.

     

  31. All naive, busty tavern wenches in my realm will be replaced with surly, world-weary waitresses who will provide no unexpected reinforcement and/or romantic subplot for the hero or his sidekick.

         Virigar: I suspect this is likely to be no more successful than the prior one.

         Master Wieran: Why would the naive busty tavern wenches be of any USE to the heroes?

         Maria-Susanna: Dear, dear, that’s another of those “sheltered upbringing” things with you.

         Dark Wanderer: More like “inhuman coldness” things; has to do with his “Soulless Science” alignment. You know, I rather LIKE seeing the naive busty wenches myself, and if in my Wanderings I have to stop by a tavern, I’d rather NOT have all the personnel be surly waitresses.

         Thornfalcon: Oh, well said! The world would be far the poorer without lovely maidens in the various establishments along the road — and elsewhere, for that matter. (nods to Maria-Susanna and Amanita)

         Endgame: While I have little care for the attractions that seem to distract the two of you, more to the point I would suspect that the whole operation would backfire by causing the hero and heroine to recognize their attraction for each other MUCH earlier.

         Amanita: Yes… yes, it would work that way. More distractions means less likelihood they realize what’s right in front of them. Good thinking. (laughs creepily)

 

  32. I will not fly into a rage and kill a messenger who brings me bad news just to illustrate how evil I really am. Good messengers are hard to come by.

         Virigar: Here I believe we are all in agreement.

Master Wieran: Precisely. Unless the messenger is also the CAUSE of the bad news.

         Maria-Susanna: True. That IS the sort of poor impulse control that dooms many a tyrant. Killing off all the competent help because they bring you bad news.

         Dark Wanderer: Yes, rather like the earlier bit about listening to advisors. Sometimes your advisors may tell you things you don’t want to hear, like “Sir, your latest plan has more holes than a wheel of Swiss Cheese, and you’d be well advised to abandon it and start from scratch”. Killing them simply makes it so that no one will TELL you the bad news at all.

         Thornfalcon: Oh, a thousand times yes. I have on many occasions given heartfelt thanks that my patron is extremely reasonable in this area. Kerlamion, the King of All Hells… is far less so.

         Endgame: I cannot argue the logic, but there is something so… satisfying about killing the bearer of bad news.

         Amanita: Or transforming him into a worm or an ant! Oh yes! (claps hands like an overeager genki girl)

         Dark Wanderer: Not recommending you as employers. Ever.

 

  33. I won’t require high-ranking female members of my organization to wear a stainless-steel bustier. Morale is better with a more casual dress-code. Similarly, outfits made entirely from black leather will be reserved for formal occasions.

         Virigar: Clothing is the choice of the shapeshifter. I don’t care what anyone wears as long as they get the job done.

         Master Wieran: I don’t –

         Maria-Susanna: –understand why someone would WANT to put their subordinates in a stainless-steel bustier. Another of those “not sure whether to pity you or be glad” things. If I have male or female employees I’ll have something both attractive and useful designed as their work uniforms!

         Dark Wanderer: If my fetching female subordinates WANT to wear chainmail bikinis, stainless steel bustiers, or leather, on the other hand, far be it from me to forbid it. I’ll just make sure it’s ENCHANTED to give full protection regardless of the square inches actually covered. Male subordinates will wear much more modest attire, however.

         Maria-Susanna: Isn’t that rather sexist?

         Dark Wanderer: *I* am the Evil Overlord, things will conform to *MY* aesthetic preferences. Evil means never having to worry about sexism, racism, or anything else implying anyone else matters but you.

         Thornfalcon: I like your style, Wanderer. World, or even mere country, domination naturally gives one the opportunity to indulge… more personal tastes than normally permitted.

         Endgame: Rulership is overrated.

         Amanita: For you, perhaps. I look forward to ruling the entirety of the worlds, and the Above and Below in the bargain. And I think my servants will be entertaining and very pretty young men. Oh, yes.

 

  34. I will not turn into a snake. It never helps.

         Virigar: If I turn into a snake, it WILL help.

         Master Wieran: What is the point of THIS one? How many Evil Overlords or Brilliant Scientists spend time turning into a snake? Why? Snakes don’t even have hands!

         Maria-Susanna: Well, in the Narnia books the Green Witch turned into a snake and ended up beheaded.

         Dark Wanderer: Yes, and Thulsa Doom from the first Conan movie also turned himself into a snake. Though he didn’t get beheaded as a snake; in fact, it did help him escape from the first assault.

         Thornfalcon: Then it is one of those which are overly-specific and perhaps not worthy of discussion. Is there a more general principle we can think of that would apply?

         Endgame: Perhaps ‘Transformations are not merely for shock-and-awe; I will only change my shape when it is tactically and practically the correct thing to do, not simply because it looks impressive.”

         Amanita: I would say that is an excellent formulation of the principle. I say this as a Yookoohoo, an expert in transformations; one has to carefully select the form to be used and the conditions under which it is useful.

         Dark Wanderer: I think you’ve got it. Excellent reformulation, you two.

         Master Wieran: I concur.

         Virigar: I think we are all in agreement. Well done. On to the next!

 

  35. I will not grow a goatee. In the old days they made you look diabolic. Now they just make you look like a disaffected member of Generation X.

         Virigar: That is, I am afraid, a reflection on the personages seen with goatee or Van Dyke beards or other similar facial ornamentation in the present era.

         Master Wieran: Pfui! I will not even bother to comment!

         Maria-Susanna: Well… yes, I suppose. The current crop do have this… problem. But it’s hardly universal; why, DuQuesne has an absolutely magnificent, what do they call it, Beard of Awesome!

         Dark Wanderer: Yes, you’re right. The modern ones all look like skinny losers and haven’t a tiny shred of charisma, THAT’s the problem, not the beards.

         Thornfalcon: Indeed. If you are not yourself WORTHY of the perception of diabolic power, growing the beard will not suddenly make you LOOK as though you were. A beard, a hairstyle, a cape — these are things that must simply *complete* you, not *substitute* for you and your personal dynamism.

         Endgame(glancing around the table): I trust no one here has a problem with my beard?

         Amanita: Oh, of course not! Why, both you and my darling King Ugu wear such beards with perfect panache! So debonair and stylish! I agree with the rest of you; the right face, the right attitude, and such a beard accentuates your evil. The wrong one… and you look like someone who wears a beard because it’s easier than shaving.

 

  36. I will not imprison members of the same party in the same cell block, let alone the same cell. If they are important prisoners, I will keep the only key to the cell door on my person instead of handing out copies to every bottom-rung guard in the prison.

         Virigar: Well, this is one of those optional Good Form/Bad Form choices. Imprisoning your enemies is already admitting you’re either (A) in need of some kind of information they have, or (B) already playing Good Form by not slaughtering them immediately.

         Master Wieran: And as you might expect, I simply agree with the rule. I will separate and interrogate them all separately, and imprison them separately. Oh, yes, I would add that I will *NOT* have a single Master Key that opens all locks throughout my Secret Fortress.

         Maria-Susanna: Ohhh, and here you had us fooled into thinking you’d never seen any of the things we referenced! What a classic that one is, though — get the Special Key and you can get through all the rest of the security.

         Dark Wanderer: Sometimes imprisoning them together is useful; they talk about things that you want to know. But it would be wise to actually keep an eye on them, and not by trusting that less-than-bright guard with the job either. Multiple monitors – after all, how many ultra-high-value prisoners do you have? Unless you’ve captured the entire Silver-Age Legion of Superheroes, you can’t have so many you can’t spare three or four people to keep a good watch on all of them.

         Thornfalcon: I would also recommend that any guards be selected for their lack of interest in persons of the particular sex or other characteristics of the prisoner or prisoners.

         Endgame: If I must take prisoners, I will imprison them appropriately. However, dramatics are a consideration I cannot ignore, so it is possible I will find myself constrained to house them together, or close together, for the appropriate victorious gloating.

         Amanita: I prefer transforming my prisoners into something that cannot contemplate escape. Then, if I have to interrogate them, I return them to their original form.

         Dark Wanderer: Well, that’s effective,  but I confess it takes some of the fun out of the whole thing.

 

  37. If my trusted lieutenant tells me my Legions of Terror are losing a battle, I will believe him. After all, he’s my trusted lieutenant.

     Dark Wanderer: None of us disagree on this, yes? If you’ve got someone who’s serving as your right hand and you trust them, they’re NOT bringing you bad news for the hell of it.

     (All): Agreed.

  

  38. If an enemy I have just killed has a younger sibling or offspring anywhere, I will find them and have them killed immediately, instead of waiting for them to grow up harboring feelings of vengeance towards me in my old age.

         Virigar: Bad form, AND leads to boredom. If  they can actually TRACE the murder to me and then plan their vengeance, it might even be amusing.

         Master Wieran: If their foolish relative FORCED me to kill them, why wouldn’t they learn their lesson and recognize that it is simple suicide to threaten me?

         Maria-Susanna: I suppose we’re all agreed in the diagnosis of “sociopath” here? Anyway, I would NEVER kill those uninvolved. The children can learn. I’d try to make sure they got the right side of the story. If they were YOUNG children I might have to take care of them myself, or at least find them good homes!

         Dark Wanderer:  Okay, you’re definitely going to be confusing SOME people – and your tactic, historically, would work, at least most of the time. I admit that I rationally agree with Master Wieran, but my gut preference is more along Virigar’s direction.

         Thornfalcon: I, like you, like to combine drama and practicality. That said… I actually chose the dramatic route myself, for practical reasons. Killing the Vantages was ordered by my esteemed patron, and I presume he had an excellent reason for ordering it. Leaving dear Kyri and her little sister alive after killing Michael… well, it’s easy to excuse the death of a Justiciar as something that happens in a high risk profession, but killing off his surviving kin could easily get things looked at that we really didn’t want examined.

         Endgame: Well, I plan on killing everyone anyway, so yes, kill them all. And all their neighbors, for good measure.

         Amanita: Dear, dear, you are poor choice for a partner, aren’t you? But I can’t help but agree; we let that little Polychrome girl go because we thought she was no threat, and we know how that worked out. Kill everyone who might be a problem.

 

  39. If I absolutely must ride into battle, I will certainly not ride at the forefront of my Legions of Terror, nor will I seek out my opposite number among his army.

         Virigar: Oh, now that’s not only Bad Form, it’s cowardice. In my case, it’s also impractical. If *I* choose to go into battle, I am the most formidable warrior on the battlefield, and it would be rational and practical for me to find the top members of the opposition and swallow their souls.

         Master Wieran: If I am forced to actually take the field MYSELF, I will prepare in such a manner that I am formidably armed and armored, but I will not ride in the front. I will of course not have an “opposite number” since there is none in my opposition who can even begin to APPRECIATE my genius! If I am confronted in the end, they will rue the day they dared oppose me! My power shall (continue with standard rant #7)

         Maria-Susanna: Oh, dear, there he goes again. I will lead the forces of light if needed, and challenge my opposite number to an honor duel!

         Dark Wanderer: While I see the practicality of the advice, I must find I agree with Virigar again. I’m my most formidable weapon.

         Thornfalcon: Hm. While I am of course quite capable myself – a Justiciar, real or false, is nothing to trifle with – I must say that I would at the least want to soften up the opposition with hordes of disposable monsters and underlings. This would also educate me on their strengths, weaknesses, and tactics. So I’m more on the side of this one than on that of the rest of you.

         Endgame: I am the weapon of the Ending and the destruction of hope. I will lead the legions of the Dead to the world’s doom!

         Amanita: I am much more in sympathy with the handsome Justiciar; I’m powerful in my own way, but let the disposable and infinitely replicable soldiers do most of the work first.

  ⁃ 

  40. I will be neither chivalrous nor sporting. If I have an unstoppable superweapon, I will use it as early and as often as possible instead of keeping it in reserve.

         Virigar: I *AM* an unstoppable superweapon, and I’ll keep as much of me in reserve as I like.

         Master Wieran: While I do not enjoy the advantages of your age and power, the simple fact of the matter — to any halfway competent mind, of which there are tragically few — is that “unstoppable superweapon” is a condition, not a device. For any superweapon that can be devised, a defense can also be devised in time, or else there are limitations on its use.

         Maria-Susanna: Exactly right, Master Wieran. The old USA did not use nuclear weapons on every minor squabble because it was literally overkill, and dirty overkill at that.

         Dark Wanderer: This is both a matter of Good Form and of practicality. If you use your superweapon at every opportunity, someone may actually figure out a defense (or how to defuse the weapon). It will CERTAINLY draw attention to the weapon and its installation, etc., and that’s not necessarily a good thing. A certain Mr. Vader and his erstwhile boss Tarkin found THAT out.

         Thornfalcon: Not that I am familiar with those gentlemen personally, but I am very much familiar with keeping a great power in reserve, for use in the final – or, perhaps, after the final – extremity.

         Endgame: The unstoppable superweapons that I – or other villains of my acquaintance – have usually also include the stricture of time to put them into effect. The Hellvortex has multiple conditions necessary to activate it.

         Amanita: Oh, I have so many superweapons, I’ll always have one in reserve, so why not send a few out now?? (laughs)

 

 

 

 

 

Just for Fun: The Annotated Evil Overlord, Part 1

 

Back in the days when Usenet was the largest discussion forum on the Net, there was a discussion of all the things that an EFFECTIVE Evil Overlord had to do — and NOT do — that were often overlooked, or directly worked AGAINST, in many works of fiction. It became a thread of discussion titled “If I Am Ever the Evil Overlord…”, and various people (including myself) contributed to it as it grew. Eventually it (and its successors/companion pieces such as If I Am Ever the Hero, If I Am Ever the Sidekick, etc.) was gathered together and posted at various points on the web. One version is here.

However, I had… issues with the list as a whole, and some particular entries in it. I felt that it would benefit from a critique by some actual villains.

I’ve done this exercise more than once, but while the following uses parts of one of the earlier, I’ve modified and expanded it considerably to use villains from several of my stories and more than one universe.

I’ll be posting it in five parts, so no one part is overwhelming to the reader.

So… ON WITH THE CRITIQUE!

Our Expert Panel

We have assembled for this special conference several fine villains who have wreaked havoc throughout the known multiverse. Let’s meet them:

Virigar. King of the Great Werewolves and progenitor of the species, Virigar is the most-feared monster on all of Zarathan. A soul-eating, nearly indestructible being, Virigar’s age is unknown, his full powers a mystery. He has killed gods and demons and men, shrugged off or consumed spells and energy weapons, and survived multiple planned attempts to destroy him. His only known weaknesses are silver weapons, and — of course — other soul-destroying beings or weapons. Seen in Digital Knight (and more in the expanded version Paradigms Lost to be released in late 2014) and implied in his existence in Phoenix Rising. In his true form he is a nine-foot-tall fur-covered monstrosity with diamond teeth and claws eight to twelve inches long, vaguely wolflike but much more alien; while he can take on any shape, his preferred guise is a handsome young man (late 20s, early 30s) very much like a young Robert Redford.
Master Wieran. Cold, analytical, fanatical, Master Wieran is what modern people would call a mad scientist. Combining knowledge of alchemy and multiple branches of magical study, Wieran’s quest is to discover and analyze  the source of life, nay, the very source of reality itself — and he will sacrifice anything, and anyone, to achieve that goal. Tall, thin, white-haired though not ancient, with deep-set eyes in a narrow, ascetic face and usually wearing something that does look rather like a labcoat, Wieran looks exactly like what he is.
Maria-Susanna. Perhaps the most tragic result of the epically tragic Hyperion Project, Maria-Susanna (alluded to in Grand Central Arena and finally encountered in Spheres of Influence) is the idealized self-insert (yes, the Mary-Sue) of the Project’s driving force. The collapse of the project combined with the death of the man she was designed for drove her completely over the edge. She still believes she is the good guy — the very noblest of good guys — and her delusions will, and have, allowed her to rationalize away literally dozens of murders. A genetically engineered superwoman, Maria-Susanna is the very ideal of the beautiful blonde, and is also physically capable of taking on just about anyone. In addition, she’s educated in a huge number of disciplines and can do just about anything she puts her mind to.
The Dark Wanderer. One of the legendary heroes of Zarathan is “The Wanderer”, a hero supposedly from Earth itself who appeared several thousand years ago. Wizard, warrior, sage, trickster, he’s said to be many things. The Dark Wanderer is his moral mirror image, caused by something terrible that happened to the original. With a special immunity to destiny and a unique approach to mystical powers, the Dark Wanderer is one of the most terrifying of all possible enemies to those on the world of Zarathan… and almost no one knows he exists… yet.
Thornfalcon. The major adversayr revealed at the end of Phoenix Rising, Thornfalcon is a swordsman, a would-be bard, a lover and a hero… and actually a psychopathic serial killer with very high functionality, empowered by something that can at the least imitate a god, and a manipulator par excellence. Tall, slender, with a long, flexible actor’s face that can go from sympathetic to comedic to psychotic in a flash, the brown-haired Justiciar wears a bird-themed “Raiment” that is both defense and mystical weapon, and wields considerable power of his own, especially as his position as the favored agent of his “patron” has made him something more than merely human.
Endgame. One of the major villains in my currently-being-shopped-around superhero novel Stuff of Legend, Endgame is an Omnicidal Maniac with the power to make it believable that he WILL destroy the world if not stopped. What event or events in his life filled him with such hatred for all things is not known. He wears a dark armored costume with a cape, and is massively muscled. He is brilliant and extremely tenacious, but constrained in his behavior by the essential rules, so to speak, that govern super-beings’ interactions.
Amanita Verdant. Entering the discussion as of Point #8, Amanita is one  of the main villains in my to-be-Kickstartered Oz-based novel Polychrome, Amanita was once a Giantess whose first name is unknown, only being addressed as “Mrs Yoop” in her canonical appearance. Having been transformed in such a manner that prohibited her from ever again regaining her true form, she has taken on the shape of a supernaturally beautiful young human woman with green hair and eyes. Amanita is an absolute master of transformation magics, and understands others quite well. She is also quite utterly insane, although able to disguise it well under most conditions. Part of her issues probably stem from her treatment (implied) by her husband, for whom she shows no concern at all when she knows he was captured, dragged off, and imprisoned in an isolated cage in the mountains.

 

   So… let the commentary begin!

 

  1.  My Legions of Terror will have helmets with clear plexiglass visors, not face-concealing ones.

         Virigar: One’s making the assumption that an overlord NEEDS Legions of Terror. If I had any, they’re all my people, and what they wear isn’t going to affect them.

         Master Wieran: I DESIGN my Legions; if they need visors of any sort, they’re BUILT IN!

         Maria-Susanna: I think it’s always so much better for your ENEMIES to supply the Legions of Terror. That way you have much less trouble convincing people that you’re really NOT evil, just misunderstood.

         Dark Wanderer: I prefer to operate on my own, or with small groups. I suppose, if I needed to rule a country and couldn’t do it through my own omnipresence and so on, I’d follow the good Master Wieran here and manufacture some — intelligent golems inherently loyal to me, etc., you know the drill.

         Endgame: I, also, tend to operate on my own. My major … ally has her legions, but they aren’t subject to the problems addressed by this issue. It is irrelevant!

         Thornfalcon: Small groups of reliable associates, then disposable legions of monsters is much more my preference. If I achieved dominion over large areas, I would prefer my peacekeepers to not look like legions of terror, any more than I myself look like a monster.

         M-S: Are you? A monster, I mean.

         Thornfalcon: You weren’t listening carefully on the introductions, were you? But to you, lovely lady, I would be anything but a monster.

         Master Wieran: You are wasting time. Let us get on with this foolish exercise!

 

  2.  My ventilation ducts will be too small to crawl through.

         Virigar: Why have ventilation ducts? Breathing is for the weak.

         Master Wieran: Some of us have not yet transcended physical form. YET, I say! One day, I shall have transcended all space and time and…(supreme effort overcomes rant mode) Sorry. A better option might be simply placing appropriate … greetings in your ducts. Allows for excellent air-flow and ventilation while not welcoming univited guests.

         Maria-Susanna: Nanobots in the ventilation informing me of anyone in them, followed by either sleep gas… or lethal gas, depending on if the latter is truly necessary.

         Dark Wanderer: Automated atmosphere renewal inside. This eliminates the need for ventilation. If you MUST have it, making your guards AWARE OF THE VENTILATION SHAFTS would probably be a good idea. So that they don’t carefully check a room and ignore all those ducts.

         Endgame: I agree with Master Wieran and Maria-Susanna; have the right surprises waiting for the heroes thinking they have found a safe route through your stronghold. Or perhaps, simply monitors, so that a welcome party can be… arranged.

         Thornfalcon: Yes… but here’s the thing. You seem to assume some sort of gigantic air-vents, which isn’t the way I’ve seen them built. Practically speaking, I am, I confess, unable to see how ventilation shafts, small as they generally are, could be a vulnerability of note.

         Dark Wanderer: True, true. Why, there’s no risk at all with a shaft only four to six inches across, not as though, say, a Toad, could pose any threat if he got into the –

         Thornfalcon (wincing): Oh, I take your point. Well sped, well sped indeed, that shaft – so to speak.

         Maria-Susanna (cutting off the Wanderer as he opens his mouth): Oh,please, let’s not start a pun war, or we’ll never finish this.

 

  3.  My noble half-brother whose throne I usurped will be killed, not kept anonymously imprisoned in a forgotten cell of my dungeon.

         Virigar: Alas, imprisoning my … brother would be difficult. One day, of course, I will consume his essence, but that will take… preparation.

         Master Wieran: I have no brothers. Rivals, now… especially jealous rivals, fools who could not understand my genius, who laughed at me in the Academy…[cue standard rant #2]

         Maria-Susanna: Well, I don’t have brothers as such, but killing them… *sigh* there are times it’s necessary, but I really hate to do that, except when it’s for mercy. I’m SURE eventually they’ll come around and see that I was right! So I’d HAVE to imprison them in a snare of delusions, you see that, don’t you?

         Dark Wanderer: Oh, certainly we see that. Note to self: make sure anti-illusion charms fully operational. Now, my “brother”, i.e., my former noble self, is — as far as I know — dead, as of the moment I came into existence. If he isn’t, well, that would be bad, and indeed, kill him as soon as possible. Imprisonment simply gives him more chances to escape and Do Unto Me.

         Endgame: Like the King of Wolves, I have no actual… brother, but one that might be considered something of the sort. Killing him is problematic in a number of ways. Imprisoning him, also. My plans have to be a bit… larger than that if I am to hope to truly eliminate his interference permanently.

         Thornfalcon: Not having relatives – living ones, that is – I suppose I can look on this as a metaphor. Really, though, there are generally ways to… persuade people to come around to your side.

         Maria-Susanna: Oh, that’s always so much better! Convincing them to do the right thing!

         Thornfalcon: She’s… serious, isn’t she?

         Master Wieran: It would seem so. And they call me mad.

         Maria-Susanna: What do you mean?

         Endgame (laughing in a way that shakes the room): Foolish child. The right thing. As if you know what is right and wrong, and could act on it if you did! Your true nature is manifest in—

         Dark Wanderer: Hey, hey, now, let’s not start the mockery this early. I want everyone to survive to the end.

  4.   Shooting is not too good for my enemies.

         Virigar: For those vulnerable to shooting, true. With a few exceptions — that is, those for whom that would be a terribly plebian and dishonorable death even in MY eyes.

         Master Wieran: And in DEATH they will LIVE AGAIN… to serve me and my own purposes!

         Maria-Susanna: *sigh* If I HAVE to kill them, shooting’s as good as any other way. But can’t we work this out?

         Dark Wanderer: Shooting, stabbing, whatever. I prefer to use thermonuclear weapons, when possible. Less chance of missing.

         Endgame: For most of my enemies, shooting them – even with a major piece of field artillery – is a minor annoyance. But I agree with the sentiment, in general – though the shooting must be done properly.

         Thornfalcon: “Shooting”? Some form of killing, I presume from context. For many enemies, I agree, a quick blade through the heart. But the more formidable and… useful enemies serve me best as sacrifices.

         Maria-Susanna: I just read your file. You keep away from me or I’ll force-feed you your testicles.

         Dark Wandarer: And she can do it, too. Don’t bet on your Justiciar speed, either; you’re not the superman you think you are, and she IS the supergirl she thinks she is.

  5.  The artifact which is the source of my power will not be kept on the Mountain of Despair beyond the River of Fire guarded by the Dragons of Eternity. It will be in my safe-deposit box. The same applies to the object which is my one weakness.

         Virigar: It’s much better to BE the source of your power. (grimaces) Oh, if only it could be ONE object that was my weakness. Unfortunately, thanks to my meddling “brother”, it’s an entire ELEMENT that’s my weakness.

         Master Wieran: In a “safe deposit box”, whatever that is?? I say NOT! It will be kept in my laboratory, under my watchful gaze or that of my loyal servants, at all times! How else could I make USE of it, anyway? (thinks) Hmm… allowing me to channel its full power while not being nearby… could be very useful… But then why make it accessible AT ALL? Hide it in another dimension, or under the roots of the mountains with NO ACCESS!

         Maria-Susanna: The sources of my power are truth and justice, and my ability to convince people to follow me. If I have a weakness, it’s that I’m too kind sometimes.  Neither one’s going to be locked up. (looks around) In fact, why am *I* being put in THIS group? These people are all a bunch of VILLAINS!

         Dark Wanderer: Hmmm, De Nile is more than a river in Egypt…

         Maria-Susanna: What do you mean by THAT?

         Dark Wanderer: Oh, nothing. Anyway, the source of my power is what I am. Can’t take it away, can’t hide it.

         Endgame (chuckling nastily): How quaint. She not only believes herself to be in the right, but believes that truth, justice, kindness and so on are strengths! (sneers at Maria-Susanna but composes himself) The true source of my power is all around us, even now. There is nowhere I cannot find it, and no possibility I could be separated from it… which is why my victory is inevitable.

         Thornfalcon: The source of my power… well, partly it’s my noble patron. But I have generally found that the best “power” is secrecy, foresight, and preparation, such as having multiple allies and weapons in reserve. Alas, that doesn’t really fit this question.

 

  6.  I will not gloat over my enemies’ predicament before killing them.

         Virigar: You know, this list is starting to take the fun out of being an Evil Overlord. It’s at least half the POINT of finally catching your enemy to take that shining moment to gloat — and of course give him the chance to put that last, desperate plan into action.

         Master Wieran: Gloat? What an utterly unscientific attitude. However, it should be important to impress upon them what FOOLS they’ve been to oppose an intellect so vastly superior to their own that [cue standard rant #8]

         Maria-Susanna: Gloat? What a horrid thing to do. But I’ll always given my enemies the chance to repent of their misguided ways, explaining how their defeat was inevitable, and that they can’t possibly expect to win against the side of right!

         Dark Wanderer: But never gloating, no, certainly not.

         Maria-Susanna: You’re just too cynical and jaded to believe in good.

         Dark Wanderer: Oh, far from it; I am all too aware of the existence of Good as a tangible force. In any case, whether I gloat would depend on how amusing it would be for ME. I rather agree with Virigar. There’s an element of style here.

         Endgame: Virigar, Wanderer, you are entirely correct. It is not sufficient to merely win. One has to win properly. Your enemies must be forced to recognized to realize their failure, to appreciate and despair at your own genius! They must be broken! They must kneel! And only then do you grant them the death they so richly deserve!

         Thornfalcon: I certainly applaud the spirit, if not the details, not being quite as… what was the term I heard once… Nhilistic, that is it… as you. The dramatic speech, the chance to reveal your plan, the desperate attempts to escape – and, yes, even that risk that you’re perhaps not quite as good as you thought – this is part of the fun of it all.

         Dark Wanderer: Ahh, yes, that’s what I was trying to think of! All this talk of being so practical that you stop being a grand-scale villain is just plain “Bad Form”. From the movie “Hook”.

         Master Wieran: Movie? What is this word?

         Virigar: Never mind, my fantasy-world friend.

      

  7.  When I’ve captured my adversary and he says, “Look, before you kill me, will you at least tell me what this is all about?” I’ll say, “No.” and shoot him. No, on second thought I’ll shoot him then say “No.”

         Virigar: And HERE is another perfect example of Bad Form. Gloating and explaining your Evil Plans are part of the POINT of being an Evil Overlord. I seem to recall seeing a similar list for the Benevolent Ruler which went quite a distance towards making them into an Evil Overlord, and I’m starting to suspect that THIS list is heading down the opposite path. Both of them meet in the middle somewhere at “Pragmatic Ruler”, and if everyone was like that, how boring would the world be?

         Master Wieran: Education. It all comes down to education. Of course, if these so-called “heroes” have gotten all the way to my secret laboratory and don’t ALREADY understand what “it’s all about”, I rather doubt they have the mental capacity to GRASP my brilliant plan!

         Maria-Susanna: Oh, explanation is always a good thing! Maybe once they really understand what I’m up to they’ll KNOW they’re on the wrong side and change their minds!

         Dark Wanderer: Yeah, good luck with that. I’m basically on the dramatics side of things, but I also have sympathy for the Mad Alchemist over there with respect to –

         Master Wieran: Mad? MAD? All great men are called mad by their lessers! [cue standard rant #6]

         Dark Wanderer: (continuing despite rant) yes, yes, we know. They laughed at Bozo the Clown, too. Anyway, I’m in sympathy over the “how could they NOT know what it’s all about if they’ve gotten this far?”

         Endgame: Oh, indeed you must explain it to them. Not only is it – as I must agree – a matter of “Good Form”, it is necessary to break them, to force them to recognize how completely and utterly I have outmatched them, outreached their pathetic powers and plans in every way!

         Thornfalcon: Of course I’ll explain to them. This keeps them distracted from the fact that I’ve already arranged their deaths… or, possibly, their brainwashing, as I believe you called it once, Wanderer.

  8.  After I kidnap the beautiful princess, we will be married immediately in a quiet civil ceremony, not a lavish spectacle in three weeks’ time during which the final phase of my plan will be carried out.

         Virigar: Marriage… is not really an option here.

Master Wieran: A waste of time. Why would I kidnap some girl for such a sordid purpose?

         Maria-Susanna: I’m not sure whether to be grateful that you don’t understand, or pity you for that fact. In any case, I would NEVER kidnap anyone for such a terrible reason.

         Dark Wanderer: You sure wouldn’t need to kidnap ME. I’d go completely of my own will. As would most men, I’d think. In any case, if I found some girl so fascinating that I just HAD to have her as my wife, I’d find a way to make her like it, or at least make everyone think she did.

         Endgame: Ha! If I choose to indulge such passions, there will be a spectacle indeed – the rulers of the world will attend, and they will BOW before us – before they are destroyed as part of the celebration!

         Thornfalcon: How rude! Killing guests, that is. I’m more in sympathy with the Wanderer. Kidnapping is such a foolish choice; you want to marry someone who you had to kidnap? She’ll just try to stick a knife through the most delicate portion of your anatomy at the first opportunity! And while the bound-and-gagged routine may be entertaining for the first few weeks, one of these days she’ll get a hand free. Or possibly have learned special techniques which you REALLY don’t want to know about. Much better to charm them – magically or simply with the appropriate charismatic words and actions – so they come of their own accord.

         Endgame: For those so weak they need fear such things, I suppose. I know those who could provide the proper… re-education for my prospective bride, if she was not already of the appropriate frame of mind.

         Maria-Susanna (muttering): I’ve got some “re-education” for you all… You know, I am feeling not merely out of place as a heroine in the middle of you monsters, but I note that this is otherwise quite a sausagefest, isn’t it?

         Dark Wanderer: Ha! You’re right, it is. We could bring in another female villain, I suppose. Hello? Another lovely lady for this little discussion?

         He Who Writes: Oh, come on. I thought I had enough baddies here as it is. Do you know how much of a pain it is to write all these entries…? Okay, fine. Do you want the one that’s total nucking futz, or maybe something a little perkier and not as explosive?

         Dark Wanderer: Oh, I think while many of us have our… quirks, we could use someone who’s completely off their nut in an amusing way. Go for it.

         He Who Writes: All right. Then here, everyone, meet Queen Amanita Verdant, one of the two current rulers of Oz, whom some call one of the Usurpers.

         Amanita (a dazzlingly beautiful green-haired, green-eyed woman apparently in her early 20s): What an… honor to be included in such august company. And some of you so handsome! (bats eyes at Virigar, who’s in his human form, then studies the Dark Wanderer). There’s something… familiar about you.

         Dark Wanderer (with a glance upwards): Oh, I have no doubt. But I assure you, Amanita, I’m not at all like the other guy with my face.

         Amanita: Oh? In that case, perhaps we can get along… very well indeed.

         Maria-Susanna: Well, um, nice to meet you, but… I’m not evil.

         Amanita: Most of us aren’t evil in our own minds, are we?

         Virigar: I am. Most enthusiastically.

         Dark Wanderer: I am called the Dark Wanderer for a reason, and it ain’t because I’m sweetness and light!

         Endgame: Does my name give you a clue? I am the darkness of the human heart incarnate! I am the power of your hatred and the strength of your fear and the green-poison energy of jealousy and spite! Yes, I am evil!

         Master Wieran: Good and evil are merely labels used by the ignorant to label things for their feeble-minded convenience! They dare judge me – ME – according to their standards, when they cannot possibly comprehend the slightest – [cue standard rant #11]

         Maria-Susanna: Oh, dear, he’s off again. But you see that I’m hardly a member of this group! Why don’t you have Fairchild here?? Or Lex, or the White Queen, or…

         He Who Writes: I did think about Fairchild, but weren’t you complaining about the lack of females? And Lex and Queenie aren’t mine to play with. Even I don’t want to face … lawyers!

         Virigar: Point. I don’t even like eating them. (grin) Joke. I love eating anything. After all, I’ll consume it all in the end.

         Endgame: ENOUGH. Let us complete this pointless exercise!

 

  9.  I will not include a self-destruct mechanism unless absolutely necessary. If it is necessary, it will not be a large red button labelled “Danger: Do Not Push”. The big red button marked “Do Not Push” will instead trigger a spray of bullets on anyone stupid enough to disregard it. Similarly, the ON/OFF switch will not clearly be labelled as such.

         Virigar: Well, I’ve never been in this position MYSELF, you understand, but it seems to me this is rational advice — although it IS skirting rather close to the Bad Form region of behavior.

         Master Wieran: How short-sighted of you! The real problem with this is that SUBTLE help is hard to find. Which means that cleverly mis-labelling the controls to mislead those misguided fools opposing me is likely to backfire when one of my idiotic if loyal assistants is required to push the correct buttton and is then misled by my own oh-so-clever strategy.

         Maria-Susanna: Well, NATURALLY! Never try to get overly-clever with your plans and designs. If you need a self-destruct, simply make it personally coded to your own biometrics.

         Virigar (with a blade-edged grin): Indeed, do that.

         Dark Wanderer: If we’re up against YOU, Big V, the fact that you can fool biometric locks is probably the least of our worries. M-S there has a good point. Let the controls be all obvious… just not easy for OTHER people to use.

         Thornfalcon: I agree. The subtlety should not be in an area that can, itself, lead to disaster.

         Endgame: My power does not rely on mechanisms, so this is irrelevant to me. I suspect some of my… colleagues would agree with the general sentiments of this group.

         Amanita: A self-destruct mechanism… oh, now, how intriguing! Yes, yes, an excellent idea, but why have a button for it? Just make it linked to my life-force!

         Dark Wanderer: Ah, yes, the upraised middle finger at destiny, the last “screw you!” act. Pull the house down around you if you can’t win it all.

         Endgame: I like the way you think, Queen Amanita.

 

  10. I will not interrogate my enemies in the inner sanctum — a small hotel well outside my borders will work just as well.

         Virigar: I’ll interrogate them anywhere I choose.

         Master Wieran: What nonsense is THIS? If I am going to interrogate anyone, by the Final Source it will be in my own laboratory, where I have the maximum security, safety, and power, not in some outside location that they could easily compromise.

         Maria-Susanna: Well, I suppose the idea is that the “capture and bring into the secret base” might be your enemy’s plan. Still, I agree; assuming I were so inclined, it would seem silly to abandon all the advantages of my own stronghold just to minimize the chances of potential discovery.

         Dark Wanderer: Unless your major strength is IN the secrecy, I agree. There are some scenarios I could imagine where it’s better to do the anonymous hotel bit — for instance, you don’t want anyone KNOWING you interrogated them or had time to, and your stronghold’s two weeks away.

         Thornfalcon: Hmmm. Yes, I agree with my colleagues for the most part. Although the best “interrogation” is carried out such that the one questioned doesn’t even realize that it happened. It’s amazing what young ladies – and sometimes young men – will tell a would-be bard and raconteur of the right reputation.

         Endgame: I care not where I interrogate them, so long as they talk.

         Amanita: Ooooh, definitely in my inner sanctum. I have so many more resources to devote to … encouraging cooperation.

         Thornfalcon: My lady, you carry your most formidable resources of such encouragement with you at all times; and they need no power other than the charming breaths that infuse you with life.

         Amanita: Well, aren’t you the charmer? Perhaps we could talk more… afterward.

         Maria-Susanna: I confess to a morbid desire to have that interaction monitored just to see exactly how it all goes wrong.

  ⁃ 

  11. I will be secure in my superiority. Therefore, I will feel no need to prove it by leaving clues in the form of riddles or leaving my weaker enemies alive to show they pose no threat.

         Virigar: Oh, dear me. This is more “Bad Form”. My superiority is what ALLOWS me to leave people alive or allow vague but potentially useful prophecies. Keeps things entertaining.

         Master Wieran: You are an irrational dolt. While giving them some short moments to appreciate the foolishness of their position is perfectly reasonable, allowing them to live, or actually giving them clues DELIBERATELY as to the nature of your plans, is idiotic.

         Virigar: Ahh, child, there speaks inexperience and youth. After your first two or three billion years of unbroken, uncontested victories, you get back to me on that. Boredom, my friend, is a powerful motivation.

         Maria-Susanna: This is one of those “villain” things again. I don’t LIKE killing people, and if I could leave my enemies alive, I would — they might come to their senses, after all. Unless the poor things are so broken that nothing will help them, in which case it’s best to put them out of their misery.

         Dark Wanderer: Ah yes, a shining angel of mercy, that’s you. And no offense, Big V, but you’re in a pretty much unique position. That said, I agree with the general concept of Good Form. If I’m gonna be a baddie, I’ll be one with style. Still, this is one of those optional Form rules, and I think I’d rather let the opposition, at least, do the prophecies, and whether my enemies get out alive should be a matter of luck or, to be honest, momentary impulse on my part.

         Thornfalcon: Oh, there is nothing optional about style. That said, there are stylish ways to kill your weaker enemy, and I have practiced many.

         Endgame: If they are my adversaries, they are by definition weaker, even Legend himself. But there are some reasons why I might permit them a few more days or weeks of life, if I can lead them to choices that will facilitate my destruction of the world.

         Amanita: Destroy the world? How silly! It’s so much more fun to terrorize it. Now my King and I, we have some excellent reasons to leave our ostensibly weaker adversaries alive… until they can all play their parts in their own defeat.

 

  12. One of my advisors will be an average five-year-old child. Any flaws in my plan that he is able to spot will be corrected before implementation.

         Virigar: I eat five-year old children. You go through too many advisors that way.

         Master Wieran (curiously): Why at that age? Are they more tender? In any case, what could a CHILD tell me about my plans? Even their low-browed parents could not possibly begin to understand my genius, I, who at the age of [cue standard rant #4]

         Maria-Susanna: You know, I think most of your problems come from this defensive reaction over your younger experiences. We have therapists where I come from who… well, never mind, I can see you’re looking at me *that* *way*. Anyway, much as I love children, I really don’t think any of them could contribute much to my planning. I *was* designed as a superman, after all.

         Dark Wanderer: Oh, now, there’s always a possibility of missing out on something in your plans, no matter how bright you might be. But this is one of those things that comes from bad late-night movies and TV Miniseries, and comic books. Most decent villains have plans that would hold up to examination at least by a 10 year old. Me, I’d rather put my plans up for critique on a Usenet newsgroup.

         Master Wieran: “Miniseries”? Usenet?”?

         Maria-Susanna: Entertainment and communications media, ancient from my point of view. Don’t worry about it.

         Thornfalcon: In my case, I have a patron who will… cross-check my choices. I don’t know why I’d choose a child as a replacement, but certainly someone with a different outlook is indicated.

         Endgame (begrudgingly): I have been defeated before, so I suppose it is not not unreasonable to have someone assist in critiquing the plan. (dark grin) But I admit it is difficult to convince someone to do so reliably when the success of your plan will ultimately lead to their deaths.

         Amanita: Oh, I leave the complicated planning to Ugu dear. My job is to provide – how do you say it? – the heavy artillery. Until such time as Ugu’s no longer necessary, of course.

     

  13. All slain enemies will be cremated, or at least have several rounds of ammunition emptied into them, not left for dead at the bottom of the cliff. The announcement of their deaths, as well as any accompanying celebration, will be deferred until after the aforementioned disposal.

         Virigar: I find this to be a rule MUCH more useful for the heroes than for myself. They’re the ones, foolish optimists, to take the bright view and assume their problems are over.

         Master Wieran: This is not a problem for ME. If they were sufficiently superior specimens as to actually pose a difficulty for me, I will recover their bodies as they will be most useful in my experiments.

         M-S: Eeeeeew. You’re creepy. I agree with the practical approach, though. If I really don’t think they’re salvageable and I MEANT to kill them, well, obviously I should make SURE whenever possible.

         Dark Wanderer: I agree with old V; this is much more a problem for heroes. Yes, sometimes the hero survives this way, but generally because it wasn’t a PRACTICAL thing for them to go after the body — you know, plummeted down a bottomless pit, last seen as you were fleeing your fortress just before it blew sky-high, that sort of thing, not because we, as villains, were unwilling to let them have those last few bullets in the head.

         Thornfalcon: Yes, exactly. It’s usually our kind who DO make sure, one way or another. At least, much more often than the heroes. After all, which side has that general idea that stabbing a man when he’s down is rude? Not ours.

         Maria-Susanna: There you go again, putting ME in with YOUR sort. You’re all horrid people.

         Thornfalcon: There’s a reason you’re in this group, my Lady, though I can see you’ll never recognize it…

         Endgame: Hmph. In my case the very laws of the universe tend to work against finishing off the hero so simply; I’ve had to devise multiple methods just to keep my nemesis occupied during my final plan, because I know killing him won’t work… permanently, anyway.

         Amanita: Oooh, I want to be the one putting the knife in his heart – if I’m not going to make use of the hero in other ways.

         Dark Wanderer: I thought your tastes ran to –

         Amanita (transforming a donut into a crystal dagger held to the Wanderer’s throat): Not those ways, these ways. (smiles prettily)

         Dark Wanderer: Ahh, I get your point.

 

  14. The hero is not entitled to a last kiss, a last cigarette, or any other form of last request.

         Virigar: Oh, now, this is yet MORE “Bad Form”. Naturally give them a last request, as long as they’re clever enough to make it something that isn’t clearly a threat (for instance, a gun with a silver bullet). It’s amusing and occasionally surprising what the pressures of impending death cause people to come up with.

         Master Wieran: More dramatic idiocy. A hero’s last request IS a stunt, usually. For those few that, like our immortal and nigh-invincible shapeshifter acquaintance here, can AFFORD the luxury, I suppose it might be worth risking. But rationally, it makes no sense at all.

         Maria-Susanna: You mean the VILLAIN isn’t entitled. I’m a hero. I have no idea why I’m in this horrid group. In any case, of COURSE he’s entitled to his last request. If I’m forced to kill him, I’d hate to deny him a last moment of satisfaction.

         Dark Wanderer: I’m torn. I agree on the Bad Form, but my rational side agrees with Master Wieran. Arg! Ah, well, the price of a dramatic upbringing.

         Thornfalcon: While I am as in favor of proper dramatics as any, I won’t grant a last request unless it amuses me. Especially with an enemy that showed itself even vaguely close to my capabilities.

         Endgame: I have no interest in granting them their requests; once defeated, they are simply disposable.

         Amanita: I agree with the charming warrior in his fancy armor. Granting a last request may be a matter of proper form, but only if the last request itself has some style to recommend it.

  15. I will never employ any device with a digital countdown. If I find that such a device is absolutely unavoidable, I will set it to activate when the counter reaches 117 and the hero is just putting his plan into operation.

         Virigar: Oh, come now, that trick would NEVER work.

         Master Wieran: Indeed. The probabilities with respect to Heroes show that what would almost certainly happen in that instance is that the hero would arrive and recognize the threat with the counter at 177, and would successfully have deactivated it 59 seconds later at 118.

         Maria-Susanna: For such circumstances a better ploy would be a motion sensor or more complex action detector that triggers the action if anyone starts to tamper with it.

         Dark Wanderer: If you insist on leaving a critical device in a location and circumstance that the hero can find it, you’d better be resigned to it being deactivated no matter WHAT you do. Yes, I know, superbeings all here, but in a Heroic Universe it takes more than just superhuman abilities and so on to defeat the forces of Square Jaws and Upright Morals.

         Thornfalcon: It does on occasion seem that the universe has a bias, doesn’t it?

         Endgame: “On occasion”? It is a natural law, at least in the universe I come from – which, if I am not mistaken, is the same as yours, though a few years in your future and on Earth, which you call Zaralandar, rather than Zarathan. Oh, I know the Heroes and their ways well – how seemingly final deaths are anything but, how exile to a thousand worlds away takes not centuries but days to overcome… oh, indeed, trust not in a device not still in your hands.

         Amanita: Well, I have every hope that we can use our power over the very core of Faerie to… bias things back the other way.

         Endgame (with a raised eyebrow): Indeed? Then I would be extremely interested in discussing –

         Amanita: No, no, silly boy. You already admitted you’re interested in complete destruction, which simply won’t do. Now, Thornfalcon, we might be able to reach… an accord.

         Thornfalcon: I will be completely at your disposal later, Lady Amanita.

  16. I will never utter the sentence “But before I kill you, there’s just one thing I want to know.”

         Virigar: Tsk, tsk. All together now…

         (Everyone): BAD FORM!

  17. When I employ people as advisors, I will occasionally listen to their advice.

         Virigar: Yes, naturally. Although I have not generally NEEDED advisors very often.

         Master Wieran: If I require some assistance in a field which I have not had the time to master, naturally I will hire competent consultants and listen. Only a fool would do otherwise.

         Maria-Susanna: It IS a bit of a cliche, though. Having a second-in-command giving him thoughtful advice and the evil mastermind shrugging it off in a fit of ego. Not being a villain, *I* don’t have to worry about that.

         Dark Wanderer: Naturally, naturally. And I agree about the idiocy.

         Thornfalcon: Are we all agreed on this?

         Endgame: I suppose, though there is nothing more annoying than an underling who thinks he knows more than you.

         Amanita: As if they ever would!

         Dark Wanderer: Oh, Endgame, I differ extremely with you. I think it’s vastly more annoying to be thinking “I should’ve listened to my advisor” as the hero’s blowing me away just the way my advisor warned me he would.

         Maria-Susanna: That’s what we heroes count on… why do you all keep laughing when I say that??

         Thornfalcon: I think the Wanderer has the right of it. However, I think we can all agree that bad advisors have only one use…

         Virigar: Soul food.

         Master Wieran: I was thinking experimental subjects and spare parts.

 

  18. I will not have a son. Although his laughably under-planned attempt to usurp power would easily fail, it would provide a fatal distraction at a crucial point in time.

         Virigar: How limiting. My children have always been my best servants. You simply need to make… examples of any who don’t follow the proper path.

         Master Wieran: I have no time for this clumsy biological procreation. I will CREATE a son, the son of my mind, superior in every way to those mindless breeders who [cue rant #28]

         Maria-Susanna: If I ever find the right man, we’ll have plenty of children and raise them right, and they’ll be the joy of my heart!

         Dark Wanderer: Pass the Pepto, please, Miss Golden Child here is giving me indigestion. No, I really don’t want a son. Love women, but children could be trouble, especially if they inherit my peculiar abilities.

         Thornfalcon: I intend to live forever; given that, having children would be a potential inconvenience; if they inherited my … tendencies, I’d be an obstacle once they got past the tender years. No.

         Endgame: … (opens mouth, then frowns, sitting back down silently)

         Amanita: Ohhh, something has reduced the bombast of our supervillain? What, have we a hint of the cause of his hatred of –

         Endgame (whirling on Amanita, fist drawn back with black energies crackling around it): DEATHBOLT –

         Virigar: Not here. (the dark energies disappear, leaving Endgame looking stunned) As for you, My Lady, you are well advised not to taunt any of us. Even those you think harmless. (suddenly shows crystal-toothed Werewolf grin)

         Amanita (slightly shaken): I… see. Well, to the subject… no, children are not in the future.

 

  19. I will not have a daughter. She would be as beautiful as she was evil, but one look at the hero’s rugged countenance and she’d betray her own father.

         Virigar: How amusing. My first-born daughter has been by far my most faithful follower.

         Master Wieran: Need I repeat myself?

         Maria-Susanna: I suspect you often do, but not in this case. Nor must I.

         Dark Wanderer: Yes, I suspect we’re in similar agreement as to the sameness of this one.

         Thornfalcon (glancing at the other two remaining, who nod): Yes, I think so. Same answers apply. Next!

 

  20.   Despite its proven stress-relieving effect, I will not indulge in maniacal laughter. When so occupied, it’s too easy to miss unexpected developments that a more attentive individual could adjust to accordingly.

         Virigar: MANIACAL laughter, perhaps so. But suitably … atmospheric chuckles to the doomed, under the right circumstances, add so much to the ambience.

         Master Wieran: I dislike the characterization, but in a moment of triumph, as my plans are unfolded and the powers of my creations finally unveiled to the TERROR of those PUNY BEINGS that dared to MOCK ME? AAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHA! THEN I shall laugh, LAUGH as they FLEE before me! [continue rant #34]

         M-S: At times one cannot quite restrain a ladylike laugh at the attempts of evil to stop righteous beings like myself.

         Dark Wanderer: You mean that spine-tingling “OOOhhhooohhooohoooo” that I think your designers stole from a dozen anime villainnesses? Oh, yes, ladylike.

         Maria-Susanna: You’re a horrid little man.

         Dark Wanderer: Horrid maybe, not so little, in any sense of the word. I think laughter is something for careful choice. Some PC’s just find it annoying, others it creeps out or even scares or intimidates. In the first case, don’t laugh.

         Master Wieran: “PC’s”?

         Maria-Susanna: Never you mind.

         Thornfalcon: Oh, it’s definitely a situational thing. I’ve used a properly intimidating or triumphant laugh to effect in more than one situation. There are other times it just won’t work.

         Endgame: As have I, but the point you are all missing is it’s what sort of laugh you can make. I, for instance, have a voice capable of shaking the earth and making it tremble in fear. If, on the other hand, you have a voice like… well, that actor, Rick Moranis? Don’t try. Please.

          Amanita: It’s in the intonation you choose. Do you want to inflict fear, or make someone think you’re simply a jolly person? A little shift of expression and emphasis, and you can do one or the other.

 

    

 

 

 

 

 

Just For Fun: Teaser Chapter: _Paradigms Lost_

 

My vastly expanded and revised version of Digital Knight, titled Paradigms Lost, will be released next year. Here’s the first chapter. Readers of the original will note there are already a few subtle differences — not the least of these being an explicit date for when everything starts…

 

 —–

 

 

Part 1: Gone in a Flash

April, 1999:

Chapter 1: Dead Man Knocking

I clicked on the JAPES icon. A second picture appeared on the Lumiere RAN-7X workstation screen next to the digitized original, said original being a pretty blurry picture of two men exchanging something. At first the two pictures looked identical, as always, but then rippling changes started: colors brightening and darkening, objects becoming so sharp as to look almost animated, a dozen things at once. I controlled the process with a mouse, pointing and clicking to denote key items that would help JAPES  to interpret the meaning in the image and bring out details.

Fortunately, I had a lot of pictures of the same area – and same individuals – from the same batch of photos Lieutenant Klein had given me, which provided me with a lot of material for enhancing and interpreting what was in this photo. JAPES, which stood for Jason’s Automatic Photo Enhancing System, was the whimsical name I’d given to my own specialized image analysis and processing suite which combined multiple standard (and not so standard)photographic enhancement techniques into a single complex operation controlled partly by me and partly by a learning expert system.

I stiffened; suddenly I was overwhelmed by the sense that I was being watched. Some people say they get that feeling a lot when they’re alone; since I live alone, and work in the same building I live in, I’ve never been prone to that problem. But this time the feeling was so strong that I turned suddenly to the plate-glass window that was the front of Wood’s Information Service.

For just an instant – that split-second between turning and my eyes focusing – I thought I saw something: a very tall figure in the mists of evening, dressed in what seemed – in that vague glimpse – to be robes or a longcoat of some sort, with a peculiar wide-swept hat like nothing I’d ever seen. Long white hair trailed off below the hat, and the figure was leaning on or holding some kind of a staff.

But when I focused, I could see there was nothing there at all; just mist and the cotton-fog glow of a streetlamp beyond. I stared out for several minutes, then shrugged. What the hell, brain? I thought to myself. Not even seeing things that make sense.

The delay had, at least, allowed JAPES to complete its work. The computer-enhanced version was crisp as a posed photo; except that I don’t think either the Assemblyman or the coke dealer had intended a pose. Yeah, that ought to give Elias Klein another nail to put in the crooks’ coffins. I glanced at my watch: eight-twenty. Time enough to digitize and enhance one more photo before Sylvie came over. I decided to do the last of Lieutenant Klein’s; drug cases make me nervous, you never know what might happen. Come to think of it, I realized, that’s probably why I had that weird feeling; I’m twitchy over this one.

So let’s get back to it. I inserted the negative into the enlarger/digitizer, popped into the kitchen for a cream soda, sat down and picked up my book. After seventeen minutes the computer pinged; for this kind of work, I have to scan at the best possible resolution, and that takes time. I checked to make sure the scan went okay, then coded in the parameters, set JAPES going, and went back to Phantoms. Great yarn.

After the automatic functions were done, I started in on what I really get paid for here at Wood’s Information Service (“Need info? Knock on Wood!”): the ability to find the best “finishing touches” that make enhancement still an art rather than a science.

A distant scraping sound came from the back door, and then a faint clank. I checked the time again; nine-twenty-five, still too early; Sylvie’s occult shop, the Silver Stake, always closed at precisely nine-thirty, and besides, Syl would just ring the bell or walk in from the front. “Lewis?” I called out.

Lewis was what social workers might call a displaced person, others called a bum, and I called a contact. Lewis sometimes did scutwork for me—as long as he was sober he was a good worker. Unfortunately when he was drunk he was a belligerent nuisance, and at six foot seven a belligerent Lewis was an ugly sight. Since it was the first Friday of the month, he was probably drunk.

But I didn’t hear an answer, neither voice nor the funny ringing knock that the chains on his jacket cuffs made. Instead I heard another clank and then a muffled thud. At that point the computer pinged again, having just finished my last instructions. I checked the final version—it looked pretty good, another pose of the Assemblyman alone with his hand partly extended—then downloaded all the data onto two disks for the Lieutenant. I sealed them in an envelope with the original negatives, dropped the envelope into the safe, swung it shut, pulled the wall panel down and locked it. Then I stepped out and turned towards the backdoor, grabbing my book as I left. Just then the front doorbell rang.

It was Sylvie, of course. “Hi, Jason!” she said, bouncing through the door. “Look at these, we just got the shipment in today! Aren’t they great?” She dangled some crystal and silver earrings in front of me, continuing, “They’re genuine Brazil crystal and the settings were handmade; the lady who makes them says she gets her directions from an Aztec she channels—”

There was a tremendous bang from the rear and the windows shivered. “What the hell was that?” Sylvie demanded. “Sounded like a cannon!”

“I don’t know,” I answered. “But it wasn’t a gun. Something hit the building.” I thought of the photos I was enhancing. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had decided to erase the evidence before I finished improving it. I yanked open the righthand drawer of the front desk, pulled out my .45, snicked the safety off.

“You’re that worried, Jason?”

“Could be bad, Syl; working for cops has its drawbacks.”

She nodded, her face serious now. To other people she comes across as a New Age bimbo, or a gypsy with long black hair and colored handkerchief clothes. I know better. She reached into her purse, yanked out a small .32 automatic, pulled the slide once. I heard a round chamber itself. “Ready.”

One of the things I always liked about Syl; she wasn’t afraid of much and ready to deal with anything.

She started towards the back. “Let’s go.”

I cut in front of her. “You cover me.”

I approached the door carefully, swinging to the hinge side. It opened inward, which could be trouble if someone slammed it open; I took a piece of pipe that I keep around and put it on the floor in the path of the door, so it would act as an impromptu doorstop. Then I yanked the bolt and turned the handle.

I felt a slight pressure, but not anything like something trying to force the door. Sylvie had lined up opposite me. She glanced at me and I nodded. I let the door start to open, then let go and stood aside.

The metal fire door swung open and Lewis flopped down in front of us. Sylvie gasped and I grunted. Drunk like I thought. I reached out for him. That’s when he finished his roll onto his back.

His eyes stared up, glassy and unseeing. There was no doubt in my mind that he was very dead.

I stepped over the body, to stand just inside the doorway, and peered up and down the alley. To the right I saw nothing but rolling fog — God must be playing director with mood machines tonight — but to the left there was a tall, angular figure, silhouetted by a streetlamp. Pressing myself up against the doorframe in case bullets answered me, I called out, “Hey! You up there! We could use some help here!”

The figure neither answered nor came closer. He moved so fast that he just seemed to melt silently into the surrounding fog. It’s a night for seeing men who aren’t there, I guess. I watched for a few seconds, but saw nothing else. I turned back to Lewis.

Fortunately, there wasn’t any blood. I hate blood. “Aw Christ …” I muttered. I knelt and gingerly touched the body. The weather was cool for a spring evening, but the body was still warm. Dammit. Lewis was probably dying all the time I was reading Phantoms.

“Jason, I have a bad feeling about this.” Sylvie said quietly.

“No kidding!” I snapped. Then I grinned faintly. “Sorry, Syl. No call for sarcasm. But you’re right, this is one heck of a mess.”

She shook her head. “I don’t mean it that way, Jason. The vibes are all wrong. There’s something. . . unnatural about this.”

That stopped me cold. Over the years I’ve come to rely on Sylvie’s “feelings”; I don’t really believe in ESP and all that crap, but. . .  she has a hell of an intuition that’s saved my job and my life on occasion. “Oh. Well, we’ll see about it. Now I’d better call the cops; we’re going to be answering questions for a while.”

Normally I might have asked her more about what she meant; but something about the way she’d said “unnatural” bothered me. I zipped back to the office and grabbed up my phone; obviously I had the local police station on speed-dial, given that I worked with them a lot. The sergeant on duty assured me that someone would be along shortly. I was just hanging up when I heard a muffled scream.

I had the gun out again and was around the corner instantly. Sylvie was kneeling over the body, one hand on Lewis’ coat, the other over her mouth. “What’s wrong? Jesus, Syl, you scared the daylights out of me! And what the hell are you doing even near the body? You know what –”

She pointed a finger. “Explain that, mister information man.”

I looked.

On the side of Lewis’ neck, where the coat collar had covered, were two red marks. Small red dots, right over the carotid artery.

Two puncture marks.

“So he got bit by a couple mosquitoes. Big deal. There are two very happy bugs flying high tonight.”

Sylvie gave me a look she usually reserves for those who tell her that crystals are only good for radios and jewelry. “That is not what I meant, and you know that perfectly well. This man was obviously assaulted by a nosferatu.”

“Say what? Sounds like a Mexican pastry.”

“Jason, you are being deliberately obtuse. With all the darn horror novels you read, you know what nosferatu means.”

I nodded and sighed. “Okay, yeah. Nosferatu. The Undead. A vampire. Gimme a break, Syl. I may read the novels but I don’t live them. I think you’ve been reading too much of your woo-woo book stock lately.”

“And I think that you are doing what you always laugh at the characters in your books for doing: refusing to see the obvious.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but at that moment the wail of sirens interrupted, which was something of a relief. That’s the craziest discussion I’ve ever been in and maybe we can just forget she started it. Red and blue lights flashed at the alleyway—jeez, it must be a quiet night out there. Besides the locals, I saw two New York State Troopers; they must’ve been cruising the I-90 spur from Albany and heard about Lewis over the radio. I felt more comfortable as I spotted a familiar figure in the unmistakable uniform of the Morgantown PD coming forward.

Lieutenant Renee Reisman knelt and did a cursory once-over, her brown hair brushing her shoulders. “Either of you touch anything?” she asked.

I was glad it was Renee. We’d gone to school together and that made things a little easier. “I touched his face, just to check if he was still warm, which he was. Sylvie moved his collar a bit to see if he’d had his throat cut or something. Other than that, the only thing I did was open the door; he was leaning up against the door and fell in.”

“Okay.” She was one of the more modern types; instead of scribbling it all down in a notebook, a little voice-activated recorder was noting every word. “You’re both going to have to come down and make some statements.”

“I know the routine, Renee. Oh, and I know you’ll need to keep the door open a while during the picture taking and all; here’s the key. Lock up when you’re done.”

I told the sergeant we’d be taking my car; he pulled the PD cruiser out and waited while I started up Mjolnir. It was true enough that I could afford a better car than a Dodge Dart, even a silver-and-black one, but I kinda like a car that doesn’t crumple from a light breeze. . . and it wasn’t as though Mjolnir was exactly a factory-standard car, either.

Sylvie’s statement didn’t take that long; apparently she chose not to expound on her theory to the cops, which proved she had more common sense than most people. Mine took a couple hours since I had to explain about Lewis and why he might choose to die somewhere in my vicinity. A few years back I’d been in the area when two drug kingpins happened to get wiped. Then Elias got me involved in another case and a potential lead fell out a closed window. I was nearby. Cops don’t like it when one person keeps turning up around bodies.

It was one-thirty when we finally got out. I took a left at Chisolm Street and pulled into Denny’s. Sylvie was oddly quiet the whole time. Except for ordering, she didn’t say anything until we were already eating. “Jason. We have to talk.”

“Okay. Shoot.”

“I know that you don’t believe in. . .  a lot of the Powers. But you have to admit that my predictions and senses have proven useful before.”

“I can’t argue with that, Syl. But those were. . . ordinary occasions.” Admittedly, ordinary occasions where she gave me a warning in time to save my life, when I saw no way she could have known what was going to happen. . . “But now you’re talking about the late-night horror movies suddenly doing a walk-on in real life.”

She nodded. “Maybe you can’t feel it, Jase, but I am a true sensitive. I felt the Powers in the air about that poor man’s body. And that noise, Jason. Big as Lewis was, even he wouldn’t make that kind of noise just falling against the door. Something threw him, Jason, threw him hard enough to shake the windows.”

I nodded unwillingly. I’d already thought of that; honestly, I didn’t think Lewis could have made that kind of impact even if he’d been trying to batter the door down.

“Jase, it’s about time you faced the fact that there are some things that you are not going to find classified on a database somewhere, comfortably cross-indexed and referenced. But I’m not going to argue about it, not now. Just do me a favor and check into it, okay?”

I sighed. “Okay, I’ll nose around and see what I can find out. No offense, but I hope this time your feelings are haywire.”

Her blue eyes looked levelly into mine. “Believe me, Jason, I hope so too.”

 

 

 

Just For Fun: Teaser Chapter: Stuff of Legend Prologue

 

The Stuff of Legend is my attempt at a superhero novel. It takes place in a possible near-future (~15 years) of Jason Wood’s universe, if certain events happen in a certain way. It is currently in the hands of my agent, Marisa Corvisiero, so hopefully someone will pick it up soon!

 

 

 

 

THE STUFF OF LEGEND

Prologue.

     It’s going to be a chilly night.

 

     Virginia shivered, even though it wasn’t cold yet. But she knew she wouldn’t be able to go back to the apartment; her father might be chasing after her, or he might have given up for now, but either way going back there was asking for more bruises or worse.

 

     She grimaced, looking down at the darkening streaks that were the imprints of Daddy’s fingers. A part of her still ached more than her arm at the memory of his anger… no, not at him being angry. Because he wasn’t, not always, not before…

 

     She bit back a sob. No. Not crying. I’m in the park where I wanted to be anyway. I … might have to go back tomorrow. I guess I have to. He’s my father, I have to live with him. But tomorrow he’ll go to work, he’ll remember tomorrow…

 

     But I’m in the park now, and it’s the Fourth of July.

 

     This year, Troy had decided to go all-out for the Fourth, and was actually attempting a fireworks display to compete with the State Capital’s usual celebration. Virginia swallowed, then put on a bright smile and walked into Riverfront Park. She glanced up at her favorite landmark – the tall and dynamic statue of “Uncle Sam”, gleaming even in the deepening twilight, and saluted.

 

     People were gathering from all over. She could see vendor stands set up all around the park, and smells of everything from popcorn to roasting pork mingled in the air. Her stomach growled. Have to ignore it. I’m a big girl now. Almost eight. I can go without dinner. There’s other people who didn’t have breakfast and won’t have dinner either.

 

     Virginia was here for the celebration. She wanted to eat, yes, but that wasn’t the important part. She was here to celebrate America. She loved the country, she loved the words her teachers read – and that she’d read, later, from the books on her own. Her father didn’t understand, really, even though he had a flag on his usually-broken-down truck. She was pretty sure Mother hadn’t understood, too; if she had maybe she wouldn’t have left.

 

     Most of my classmates don’t, either. They’d laughed at her name when it came up in class. But she was proud of her name, even though there were a lot of bad things the Europeans had done when they came over. She still loved the country, the country she imagined. The one that she sometimes saw in stories, in books, in movies, and once in a while on the street – in her favorite statue, in the fireworks, and she believed that there really was something there. That there really was, not just a bunch of arguing people, but something better, something to send a tingle up your spine and straighten your back when you heard the Anthem start up.

 

     She’d even learned all the verses of the Anthem. Just because Morrie said no one knew them, but she loved the tune. She was glad that her chorus teacher had taught them how to sing right, because it was a little hard to hit all the notes.

 

     She pushed through the crowd; being a little girl made that a lot easier than for bigger people! There was a big podium, a stage, set up near the water’s edge, and there were bands playing music. Suddenly the music shifted, swelled to a very patriotic-sounding fanfare, and she saw something up above, descending…

 

     Oh, my g… goodness! Is it…?

 

     She pushed her way through to the front, in time to see the impossible. Red and silver, with touches of blue and a stylized “S” emblem, the hero called Superlative landed gently on the central stage. “Hello, Troy!” he called out.

 

     “Hello, Superlative!” she shouted back; so did a lot of other people, but quite a few were simply staring.

 

     “I’m stopping by to wish you all a wonderful Fourth!” he continued. His deep, calm voice carried easily across the park. “I couldn’t celebrate July Fourth without seeing the home of Uncle Sam, could I?”

 

     Virginia had never seen any of the new heroes up close; after all, it had only been a couple of years since they first appeared. Now she couldn’t do anything but stare. Superlative seemed… just bigger, brighter, more than everyone else. And she could hear in his voice that he meant what he said – that America was something he believed in, too. His eyes caught hers for a moment, and she knew that he really did see her, and that the smile he gave there was for her, for her belief, for who she was, and for that instant she felt warm all over.

 

     If only… if only I could feel this way forever…

 

     But the speech was short, it was almost over, it was over, and Superlative leapt up and streaked away into the sky; he was going to Philadelphia, then to Washington, she heard someone say.

 

     Still, the cheerful feeling lingered on, and she wandered through the crowd, listening, hearing, watching. It’s almost time for the fireworks!

 

     “Hey, little girl, are you lost?”

 

     The question came from a woman walking with what was obviously her boyfriend… no, husband. They’ve got rings. She noticed rings; sometimes Mommy had come home with hers off and that was when there were big fights.

 

     She smiled. “No, not lost.”

 

     “Where are your parents?”

 

     Virginia had known that question was coming. It wasn’t like she hadn’t heard that question a hundred times before. “Oh, around. We live near here, so Daddy knows I can find my way back if I have to.” She felt a tension… an odd, tight feeling… in her stomach, through her body.

 

     She gave the look – the one that said that she didn’t think much of any Daddy that would let his little girl run around in a crowd like that. And … I guess she’s right. He should be here with me, if …

 

     Thinking that way was a mistake; she felt her cheerful smile waver, the strange tense feeling winding even tighter. Virginia immediately forced the grin back on her face and skipped off. Have to get near the waterfront again – the fireworks will start soon!

 

     She wriggled her way through the crowd again, this time to get a place near the railing. It was getting quite dark, but there were some lights so it wasn’t hard to find your way around.

 

     THUMP!

 

     She felt the shock in the air and through her toes, as the mortar launched the first firework shell skyward. BOOM!

 

     She laughed, and as the next shell burst in brilliant red, she cheered; so did most of the crowd. The odd tenseness within her did not… let go, relax, but the lights and the celebration made it seem less urgent.

 

     Then there was a shout not far away: “‘Ginia!”

 

     Oh no!

 

     She saw her father, shoving people aside with ease. Gordon Dare was a big man with a furious glare, curly black hair that was now an untidy mess, and brown eyes that were as hard and unyielding as oak.

 

     She turned and ran. Why now?

 

     “Knew you ran away here!“ he bellowed after her. “Now get back ­home! Right now!”

 

     The crowd was thick, but that meant that it was still easier for her to get through than him. The peculiar tightness within her worsened, made her lightheaded. Maybe the police will get him. But… then where do I go? I’ll just have to wait for him to come back… and then he’ll be really mad.

 

     “Virginia!“

 

     She screamed involuntarily as the rough hand grabbed at her again.

 

     “Hey, you! Leave her alone!”

 

     The words came from a young man – maybe from the high school, thought Virginia as she tore herself free. He was skinny, not anything like the size of her father, but his angry words made her father hesitate, and she took the chance, ran, ran as the fireworks burst in flashes of red and white and blue, ran, looking for somewhere she could hide…

 

     A huge figure loomed up in front of her; for a moment she thought it was a man, an impossibly huge man – but then she realized it was the statue. She ducked around the front of it and then scrunched herself up between Uncle Sam’s leg and the cast-aluminum barrel that stood next to him.

 

     Please, please let him miss me…

 

     “Virginia! Ginia! Damn you stupid..” her father swore and she covered her ears.

 

     A shadow moved out into view, and then one of the fireworks flashed; she saw her father silhouetted not ten feet away. Inside, she felt taut, a string stretched to the breaking point, stretching farther, and her head seemed to spin; she was barely able to focus on her father as he stared straight at her.

 

     But he looked around, then away. Another flash and bang, and he was thirty feet away, walking, back to her, stumbling a little. She heard another curse, fainter, but he was sixty feet away, crossing the street… heading for home.

 

     Still, she stayed there, unmoving, unbelieving, pressed up against the statue. It was actually slightly warmer here; the heat of the day had not entirely left the huge mass of metal and the stone base. It was a comforting feeling, even with the hard metal and stone. Maybe because of that, too, because she knew nothing – like her father – could sneak up and grab her THROUGH all that metal.

 

     Daddy shouldn’t have missed seeing me. She was sure of that. And that inexplicable tension was now unbearable, dizzying, and that something told her that her father should have seen her. He was looking, he had been barely beyond arm’s reach, the statue didn’t give that much cover. Yet…

 

     She looked up, feeling the warmth, and that strange tension.

 

     Red, white, and blue light flared with thunder, like the guns of the Revolution, and for a moment the colors danced along the statue.

 

     And – for just a moment – she believed, even as that indescribable tension or pressure seemed to shatter within her.

 

     She found herself lying on the ground next to the pedestal, dazed, but somehow certain. Something had kept her from being seen.

 

     “Well, now, young Virginia,” said a strong, tenor voice with a faint twang of an accent, “the ground’s no place for a young lady. Can I help you up?”

 

     She looked up, and felt her face – her whole life – suddenly igniting with a joy that she had never felt except in the dreams that she kept secret.

 

     He stood there, tall and spare, cloak billowing out to one side, his colors of red, white, and blue striped along his pants and his impeccable top-hat. The white hair and beard were just as she had known they would be, and his blue eyes twinkled at her like those of Pa Ingalls in the books she had read last year. “That’s right,” he said as she rose slowly, incredulously staring at him. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

 

     “You… I…” she couldn’t think of what to say. It’s like… like meeting Aslan in Narnia.”Who are you?”

 

     Even as he smiled, she realized with a shock that there was no longer anything standing on the pedestal. “Why, Virginia, you of all people ought to know that.”

 

     “You… you protected me.”

 

     “You protected yourself,” he said with another smile. “I just helped.”

 

     She could feel, somehow, that he was right, at least in some way that she couldn’t really understand. But the fact that he was here, that he was real…

 

     And then the joy began to fade. “I still… well, tomorrow. Have to go back.”

 

     The tall man shook his head. “Now that we can see to, right now. You come with me, Virginia.”

 

     She didn’t think of questioning him. She just put her hand in his and followed as he strode down towards the waterfront.

 

     People laughed and pointed and some saluted or clapped as he passed – obviously thinking he was someone in a costume, celebrating Independence Day in the most colorful way. But they also parted, almost without thinking about it, and so they were hardly slowed until they approached the riverfront railing, the finale of the fireworks now fountaining up in a cascade of flashing beauty and thunder like triumph.

 

     “Beg your pardon, Ma’am,” he said, the mellow tenor somehow cutting easily through the echoing din of the explosions and cheers.

 

     The woman who turned around was an older woman – the word Virginia thought of was “matronly” – wearing a dress so brilliantly colored that it stood out even in the semi-darkness, and a hat so unique it was obviously hand-made. She had her hair done up under the hat and her eyes were gray-green. She looked up and raised an eyebrow, giving him a severe “and just who are you?” look. “Yes, sir?”

 

     “This little girl has a problem,” he said.

 

     She looked down and her face immediately softened. Instantly Virginia liked her. “What can I do for you, honey?”

 

     Virginia looked up at her companion, who smiled. “She’s got nowhere to go. Nowhere safe, anyhow. Look at her –”

 

     “I see it,” the woman cut in, seeing the marks on her arm. “Sweetheart, who did this?”

 

     Normally she wouldn’t say… but she trusted him. “My… my father.”

 

     The woman still spoke to her kindly, but she could see anger – not directed at her – instantly flare up. “Has he done this to you… before?”

 

     She suddenly couldn’t look into that sympathetic, angry face; she dropped her gaze to the ground. “Y…. yes.”

 

     “Are you afraid to go home now?”

 

     Do I answer?

 

     She looked up at him, looking gravely at her now from under snow-white eyebrows. “The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, Virginia,” he said after a moment.

 

     All right. “Yes, I’m afraid. He’ll… hit me. Hard.”

 

     The woman straightened up and looked back to her companion. “You know this girl? What’s her name? Who’s her father? Where’s her mother?”

 

     “In order, Ma’am, I certainly do know her, her name is Virginia Dare, currently resident at the address you’ll find on the card in her lefthand pants pocket, her father’s Gordon Dare, and her mother has seen fit to depart from their household and her whereabouts are not known – to her father, at any rate. You can do something about her, can’t you, Eleanor Pilgrim?”

 

     “I certainly will try – but who are you and how do you know my name?”

 

     He bowed to Eleanor and took Virginia’s hand. “You stay with Ms. Pilgrim here. She’ll make sure you’re taken care of.” He straightened and tipped his hat. “She needs a good home, Ma’am. You’ll find that there’s some people just right for her, coming by your office probably tomorrow morning.”

 

     Eleanor Pilgrim’s lips tightened. “That’s fine to hear… and for some reason, I actually believe you, though I have absolutely no reason to do so. Who are you?”

 

     He smiled, tipped his hat again to both of them, and strode off, whistling. Virginia’s mind filled in the words:

 

     “Oh, I’m a Yankee-Doodle Dandy

      A Yankee-Doodle do or die

      A real-live nephew of my Uncle Sam

      Born on the Fourth of July…”

 

     And as he reached that line, striding away from them into the crowd… he simply faded away, leaving the crowd and Eleanor Pilgrim staring in awe… and Virginia smiling.

 

 

 

 

On My Shelves: TERMINATOR

 

 

“Come with me if you want to live.”

–Kyle Reese/The T-800

 

     One of the most iconic cinematic inventions of our time was born from a nightmare. James Cameron, fevered and ill, dreamed of a metallic skull with glowing eyes emerging from flames… and from this image came The Terminator.

 

     Most people know the basic story: sometime in the future, the computer called Skynet is given control of America’s nuclear defenses… and becomes self aware. Partly out of fear of its own destruction, Skynet then initiates Armageddon, called Judgment Day, raining nuclear fire down upon all humanity. Then it begins a program of final extermination, using automated factories to design and construct self-aware machines to hunt down and destroy all remaining humans: self-aware machines called Terminators.

 

     But one human being – John Connor – manages to rally others to his cause, unite the fragmented remnants of humanity, and devise a counterattack that reaches Skynet’s own bunkers.

 

In desperation, knowing it is defeated, Skynet makes one final, magnificent gamble: using an experimental device, it sends a single Terminator unit – disguised in a human shell –  back in time, just far enough to be able to find and destroy Sarah Connor, John Connor’s mother, before she can have a child. John Connor is able to send one of his men – Kyle Reese – back to try to keep Sarah Connor alive.

 

The Terminator itself is a triumph of both the time-travel and SF-action genres, especially given its budget of a mere $6.4 million. It creates a nicely closed, elegant time-loop with a bit of wiggle room for a sequel, and is well acted by the major principals, Linda Hamilton (Sarah Connor), Michael Biehn (Kyle Reese) and of course, Arnold Schwarzenegger as the Terminator.

 

     This, along with Conan the Barbarian, was Arnold Schwarzenegger’s real breakout role. Playing the pitiless, unstoppable Terminator was a natural for Schwarzenegger at the time, who was still assimilating into American culture and learning both the acting and speaking techniques which would come to be his signatures; the Terminator didn’t require an actor of great complexity, but did require one capable of a terrifying, dominant presence, which Arnold delivered in spades. Even here, he managed to inject the Terminator itself with just enough characterization – cruelty and humor – to make it more chilling than a simple machine. This was a machine capable of feeling touches of emotion and thus much more dangerous than one that had no human traits at all.

 

     Biehn is a good actor, and in The Terminator he had a challenging role; a man sent back in time to rescue someone who has no reason to believe him, a man unarmed against a nuclear-powered war machine who needs to find one woman in all of Los Angeles, and then somehow keep the Terminator from finding her and killing her – or all of humanity is doomed. He has numerous moments that stick in the mind, from the iconic quote that began this article to the one perhaps best remembered:

 

“Listen, and understand. That Terminator is out there. It can’t be bargained with. It can’t be reasoned with. It doesn’t feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And it absolutely will not stop, ever, until you are dead.”

 

     The true triumph of the film, though, is to take all these elements and finish them off with a brilliant bit of stop-motion animation that is perhaps the capstone of all stop-motion ever: the shining alloy skeletal figure of the Terminator, striding from the flames of a wrecked gasoline tanker and continuing its implacable pursit of two injured, exhausted people.

 

     Following up on this movie some years later must have been somewhat frightening for Cameron; you’ve made a cult classic with a tight, driving plot, absolutely iconic imagery,and ground-breaking special effects, and not only did you do it on the relative cheap but the movie pulled in almost six times its budget in release. Now you have a bigger budget but a huge question: can you possibly top that?

 

     The answer was YES. Cameron took the original, and from the hints in that movie extrapolated another brilliant film: Terminator 2: Judgement Day. From the opening vision of Judgement Day to the literally tear-jerking ending, Cameron brought that same terrifying magic back, and managed to one-up himself in every category, performing brilliant perceptual switches and logical plotline extensions that produced another cult classic with equally brilliant technical wizardry.

 

     Here we see Sarah Connor, ten years later, having become a survivalist of such fanatic proportions that she has been hospitalized in a mental institution, deprived of her son and assumed incurably insane since she believes this ludicrous story of robot killers from the future and a coming nuclear holocaust caused by a berserk AI. Her son John has become a young hacker punk, performing petty thievery on ATMs and bitter about his “crazy mother” and all the lies she told him.

 

Once more we see two people materialize in the time-vortexes of the earlier film, one of them the massive, forbidding form of Arnold Schwarzenegger, the other appearing as the much slighter form of Robert Patrick.

 

     But – as most people know well – here Cameron is playing with us. Both track down John Connor, but it turns out that Schwarzenegger’s Terminator is the good guy, and Robert Patrick is playing the fearsome “T-1000″, a nanotech “liquid metal” shapeshifting construct which is almost invulnerable to ordinary harm. The inversion is complete when, in the rescue of Sarah from the mental hospital, Schwarzenegger’s Terminator steps before a collapsed, speechlessly terrified Sarah and holds out his hand, saying “Come with me if you want to live.”

 

     The brilliance of Terminator 2, however, is in the character progression. Sarah Connor has been driven by fear and hatred of the machines into full-blown paranoia, which eventually culminates with her nearly killing a man whose only crime was in studying the remnants of the first Terminator. John Connor is a bitter child who has to re-learn trust and compassion. And the Terminator is a machine who learns how to be a person… and why sometimes sacrifices must be made.

 

     The acting was good in the first Terminator, but in T2, it’s stellar. Hamilton does wonderfully in switching from terror to fury to gentleness in a very convincing portrayal of a woman whose sanity is frayed to a single thread; Furlong’s John Connor is all too believable as a betrayed young man trying to rediscover himself when everything he had come to believe turns upside down and dumps him into the terrifying rabbit hole; and Schwarzenegger, now much farther along in his acting career, delivers a marvelous performance as a machine slowly learning to be a man. Robert Patrick, following up on Schwarzenegger’s original performance, gives us a beautiful portrait of a more advanced killing machine that is more than mere machine, showing subtle yet clear sadistic humor that becomes more pronounced, along with frustration and anger, as the chase is prolonged.

 

     This is one of three franchises – the others being Alien and Predator – that I think are best thought of as two-movie deals. I know enough about T3 that I don’t want to watch it, and I’m unsure about Terminator:Salvation – what I’ve heard on that front is conflicted.

 

     However, even with just the two, Cameron produced one of the most iconic, and in some ways influential, science fiction worlds of all time… and brought his nightmare to us all. Even I get a chill at that slow, hammering, mechanical theme, and the image of that grinning, cold-metal skull with its glowing eyes emerging slowly, pitilessly, implacably from the flames…

 

 

 

 

 

On My Shelves: Spider-Man

 

 

“With great power comes great responsibility.”

 

     As I’ve mentioned before, my first major exposure to comics occurred at the age of 18, when I was living in my first apartment with two other guys, Steve Reed and Ed Lord. Steve was the SF book collector of the pair, while Ed Lord was the comic collector. It was in his collection that I first encountered the Amazing Spider-Man.

 

     His basic origin is known to virtually everyone these days, given that there’ve been two movies in the last decade or so which re-told the origin with only minor changes: Peter Parker, orphan raised by his Uncle Ben and Aunt May, science geek who is otherwise the all-around butt monkey of his generation, is bitten by a radioactive (later “genetically engineered”) spider at a lab he is visiting, and discovers he has gained incredible powers from the bite: superhuman strength, speed, toughness, and agility, the ability to stick to walls, and a strange sixth sense that warns him of danger. In the original and one of the movie versions, he also then designs “webshooters” filled with a webbing fluid; in the other movie, he also gains the ability to shoot webs from his wrists. I prefer the original in this case.

 

     Having gained these powers, the cash-strapped young man decides to cash in, going to an exhibition wrestling match and easily defeating the champion and becoming a momentary celebrity. At the scene of a minor crime, he ignores the perpetrator, figuring it’s the problem of the police, not him, to stop the criminal.

 

     Then his Uncle Ben is murdered, and upon hunting down the perpetrator, Peter discovers to his horror that the murderer was the man he had failed to stop earlier. Had he acted – had he taken responsibility as a citizen – his uncle would still be alive.

 

     That failure, which cost him the only true father he had known and May her husband, irrevocably changed him. He accepted in his heart the basic truth quoted above: “With great power comes great responsibility”, and ever since has fought to live up to the responsibility his fantastic powers have bestowed upon him.

 

     In some ways, Spider-Man is the greatest of Marvel’s creations (and one of the murkiest in origin, with Lee, Ditko, and Kirby having various parts of the credit depending on who’s telling the story). He is also the most incredibly successful of the solo Marvel heroes, having supported multiple simultaneous books at the height of his career, been adapted into multiple cartoons, two live-action TV series, and two separate motion picture continuities.

 

     To a great extent, I believe Spider-Man’s success comes fom being the ultimate heroic wish-fulfillment fantasy for what used to be the primary demographic for superhero works – young men, especially geeky young men, between late teens and early 20s. It combines both the basic power fantasy – weak, nerdy Peter Parker is suddenly a powerhouse almost without equal – but the character fantasy of someone who reacts properly to his loss and becomes someone better than he was to begin with. The latter part, I think, is one of the keys. It’s an obvious fantasy to take the weak “reader avatar” and bestow upon him great powers, but it’s a more subtle one to take that reader avatar and put him through a process that forges him into a hero. By doing so, Stan Lee and Marvel allowed the reader to, vicariously, go through the process of becoming a hero as well.

 

     Mostly a solo hero – though he has, at one point or another, worked with nearly every notable hero in the Marvel universe – Spider-Man is one of the most experienced superheroes alive. While there are some older than he (Thor, Captain America), there are few, if any, who can boast his obsessive commitment to his avocation. Scarcely a night goes by without him going out to do his part to reduce crime, save a few people, and live up to the responsibility of his power. There are other superhero TEAMS who don’t have the combined aggregate experience that he does.

 

     What struck me most in reading Spider-Man during the era that I read him is that Spider-Man’s powers aren’t actually the thing that makes him one of the most formidable heroes in the Marvel universe. Oh, those powers aren’t anything to laugh at; he can move fifteen times faster than an ordinary human being, he can lift ten tons over his head, and he can sense almost any attack coming in time to dodge or otherwise react to it, a combination of abilities that anyone would find impressive.

 

     But it is his combination of genius and bloody-minded stubbornness that truly makes him who he is. Spider-Man, even more than most heroes, simply will… not… stop if he has a job to finish. He’s sick with the flu so he can barely stand? No problem, he’ll still figure out how to beat the Rhino and get him gift-wrapped for the cops. A demonlord who can literally flood you with complete despair, breaking lesser men to sobbing, inert heaps? He’ll fight it off and go utterly berserk on the demonlord until he has literally beat him into the ground. Entire city thinks he’s a criminal or worse? He’ll still just go straight into the most dangerous situations imaginable to save just one person. Beaten nearly to death, stuck under a piece of machinery too heavy for him to lift, with the cure for his dying aunt in front of him? He’ll show you what “heroic resolve” means.

 

     And if being an unstoppable Determinator isn’t enough, Peter Parker is a certified genius. This is the man who invented a flexibly mixable web-fluid – and web-shooters – that can spin incredibly complex webs or single strands of multiple characteristics, and dissolve with no noticeable residue as needed. In the 1960s he designed wireless spider-tracers smaller than anything we could practically build for the next 30 years. He has devised cures for poisons and mutations, analyzed alien technology, and performed feats of invention that have left Reed Richards – generally acknowledged to be the smartest man in the Marvel universe – staring and saying he’d really like to meet Spider-Man’s “friend” who came up with this.

 

     While the combination of powers, genius, and will makes Peter in some ways one of the most dangerous heroes of the Marvelverse… it’s in no way an embarrassment of riches. Because Peter Parker is also the bad-luck king of superheroes. The Fantastic Four have a skyscraper headquarters; the Avengers have a mansion and large paychecks when needed; Professor X makes sure the X-Men are well supported. Peter Parker lives in a one-room efficiency apartment and sometimes has to duck the landlady to avoid rent demands. His secret identity leads to countless misunderstandings, stood-up dates, injuries, illnesses, and potential job loss (even though he has historically managed to make money from pictures of himself in action). If Spider-Man’s life seems to take a turn for the better, one can be sure that fate is waiting JUST around the corner with a whole crateful of anvils to drop on him.

 

     His rogue’s gallery includes some of the most diabolical and frightening characters in Marvel: the Green Goblin and his various offshoots, super-powered lunatics who sometimes reach Joker levels of psychotic insanity, with superpowers to match; Doctor Octopus, genius of technology with nuclear-powered arms; Electro, living master of electricity; and the alien symbiote-based Venom and Carnage.

 

     Outside of his main rogues gallery, Spidey has also faced a huge number of the major adversaries in the Marvel universe; I’m not sure but what he has the most diverse set of opponents for any individual character, as he has co-starred at one point or another with everyone from the Fantastic Four to the X-Men, Avengers, and Man-Thing, duking it out with enemies of almost every other hero of note – sometimes to startling effect.

 

     Spider-Man’s appeal remains the fact that he is so very, very human even after years doing his hero-ing. He can never allow himself to let go of the guilt that drives him, or the uncertainty that his early upbringing and experiences gave him. Even as an adult, he is, inside, the same shy and nervous teenager we first met, who partially dons the Spider-Man mask to become someone else, a wisecracking, confident hero who can drive an opponent to distraction with his words while whipping the tar out of him with his fists. Many of us can empathize with him, and the stories in which we are reminded of this – that behind the mask is a young man who is still, and always, desperately trying to prove himself – are by far the most powerful.

 

     At the same time, he is one of the greatest representations of hero in the comic-book world. He is not rewarded for most of his actions – in fact, is frequently vilified for no reason. He does what he does because he knows it is the right thing to do, and he has seen, first-hand, what happens when a man passes up those responsibilities. He may be sick, injured, weakened. He may even lose his powers. But he will never stop so long as there is someone who needs his help, and more than one villain has discovered the true meaning of terror as he has seen Spider-Man, seemingly beaten, drag himself to his feet and keep coming, through everything that can be thrown at him, to make sure that the bad guys once more lose… no matter what the cost.

 

     There are plenty of things about the long-running Spider-Man franchise I haven’t been happy about (the retcon of the death of Aunt May, for instance, or the whole Venom thing, or the Clone saga), but none of them have changed my view of the essential character as one of those who exemplifies what superheroes are supposed to be. My thanks to Stan, Steve, and Jack – in whatever combination – for making one of the most enduring, and inspiring, comic creations of all time.

 

 

 

 

 

Teaser Chapter: Castaway Planet Lincoln

 

Today, a sample of the book Eric and I have been working on lately (I just finished the first draft edits). It’s a YA space adventure, set in the future of the Boundaryverse!

Note that the title is subject to change — it hasn’t been officially confirmed yet — and since this is a first draft much may yet change.

 

 

—–

 

 

Chapter 1.

Sakura Kimei lay as still as possible on the set of pipes, listening for the creature’s approach. Could be very near. She gripped the weapon in her right hand  and steadied herself with her left, trying to breathe as quietly as possible.

 

Not for the first time, she was grateful that she was still “skinny as a rail”, as her mother Laura often put it. The pipes had minimal clearance between them and the ceiling,and no one with even a tiny bit more weight could have fit.

 

And that would have meant she had nowhere to hide.

 

The corridor wasn’t terribly narrow and was pretty high – for Sakura, at least, since it was meant for adults to use, not just fourteen-year-old girls who hadn’t quite hit their last growth spurt – but though only dimly-lit it was straight and without feature or doorway for a fair distance.

 

She tried to calm her beating heart; if it beat faster, she’d be breathing faster, and that could give her away.

 

The pipes under her felt both warm and cool, and she was doubly grateful for the advanced aerogel insulation that was able to keep them from being either scorching or freezing without huge, thick coatings – which would have made this hiding place impossible.

 

It had already been several minutes. Maybe I lost him completely, she thought to herself.

 

But then a faint sound reached her ears, and she froze, holding herself as still as the walls around her.

 

Scrape.

 

That was not the sound of a human being walking. It sounded vaguely like a leather bag being dragged over the deck, but it was not a constant sound; it was the sound of something moving rhythmically, slowly, and as stealthily as it could. Straining her ears, holding her own breath, Sakura could just make out the faint whistling of the thing’s breath.

 

Shadows moved, coming from behind her, but Sakura dared not move, not even to get a good look. The creature’s senses were very, very good and might pick up on any movement, especially if it was still behind her and might look up for an instant.

 

Focused as she was on being perfectly still, naturally every tiny complaint or discomfort was magnified. That tiny itch in her calf was suddenly almost unbearable, demanding she move, reach down, scratch; the vague irritation in her nose was now trying to burgeon into a full-fledged sneeze. She clamped down with iron will. No! Can’t screw up now! It’s probably my only chance!

 

Slowly, below her, something came into view; waving tendrils, curling and grasping at the air like corpses’ fingers, sharp black hooks showing themselves as the digits worked back and forth.

 

The tendrils moved forward, showing there were actually three groups of them, attached to three powerful forelimbs which bent in the center to provide a sort of elbow. The creature was dragging itself along with two of these. One group of tendrils grasped a tubular affair something like a crutch; the thing’s equivalent of a gun.

 

The body was generally triangular in cross-section, with the arms she saw at the front; in between those arms and not visible from where she was, she knew, was a tripartite beaklike mouth equipped with a ripping, tearing “tongue”. At the rear, three stubby appendages similar to the arms splayed out, gripped, and pushed. Overall, the thing was several meters long and probably weighed five times what she did.

 

The thing could also go much faster than it was, even taking into account the fact that it obviously wasn’t built for this kind of terrain. But it was moving quietly, trying to find her without alerting her to its presence; the front tendrils and rear “legs” were trying to keep as much of the creature as possible off the ground. She was, actually, astounded; she knew the thing was strong, but this was way beyond what she’d expected.

 

     Still… right now I’m still hidden. No sign he’s seen me.

 

     She focused on timing now. Almost past my position. Have to hit it right behind the eye socket and pushing down and back to hit the brain.

 

     The ship’s “gravity” came from spin; she had to guess just how much that would make her curve during the drop, because curve she would. Not much, but when centimeters counted you couldn’t afford any slop.

 

     Now came the most dangerous part. Its eyes were passing below her; it’d have to turn now to see her. But she had to ease herself sideways so she could drop off the pipes and onto the alien’s back.

 

     And that meant moving, and moving meant noise.

 

     She exaled silently as much as she could, lowering her height by a centimeter or less, but just enough to make sure nothing touched her back. Slowly she eased to her right. Over one pipe. Over two. Once she’d gotten past three pipes she could –

 

     The creature suddenly halted. Maybe it had heard her, maybe it just realized it had come an awfully long way without seeing its quarry, but either way, it was now suspicious.

 

     GO!

 

     Sakura shoved off, dropping down, even as the thing tried to pivot around in a corridor much narrower than it was long. The girl twisted her body, stretching out, weapon held tight in her fist, reaching, even as one of the cruel taloned arms lashed around towards her –

 

     And her hand drove perfectly into the gap between the righthand eye and the thick, armored hide.

 

     Instantly the arm froze, then collapsed to the ground.

 

     “Oh, stagnation,” the creature vibrated. “I almost got you!”

 

     She laughed and jumped off, putting the play dagger away. “You caught me the last three times, it was about my turn to get you!” She hugged as much of him as she could reach; he was warm and leathery, something like she imagined an elephant might be, but smoother. The latter wasn’t surprising; the “Bemmies” had been entirely aquatic when humanity first met them on Europa, and using genetic engineering to give them full amphibious capabilities hadn’t given them any hair. “That was a good chase, though, wasn’t it, Whips?”

 

     Whips (more formally named “Harratrer”) burbled agreement with a chuckle. “Half an hour, and you still caught me. I should remember you’re thin as a bladefish.”

 

     “Want to do another round?”

 

     “We don’t have another half-hour,” the big alien pointed out. “You’ve got pilot apprentice training and I’ve got my engineering apprenticeship work in fifteen minutes.”

 

     “Oh, blah. You’re right, that’s not long enough. Maybe we –”

 

     A screaming klaxon ripped the quiet air to shreds, repeating in three sharp tones. “Mandatory Emergency Drill,” a calm electronic voice said. “Mandatory Drill. All personnel, respond as to an actual emergency according to Section 115.2. Mandatory Emergency Drill…”

 

     “Dehydrate that!” Whips said grouchily. “Our lifeboat unit’s all the way over on the other side of Outward Initiative.”

 

     The young Bemmie’s peeved tone hid nervousness – and not very well. Sakura knew the source of that, and gripped her friend’s arm supportively. “Everyone else will be busy going to their lifeboats –”

 

     “But they’ll still be able to … accidentally… impede me in one way or another.” The voice was no longer grouchy; it was sad and hurt. Whips’ flickering colors were muted and brownish.

 

     She couldn’t argue with him; it was true. Her family had grown up around the genetically enhanced creatures, but they were rare even in the home system; in fact, from what her father had said, Whips’ family might be the first one allowed out-system. There were concerns about physical and mental stability, long-term viability, and other things, some of which just boiled down to plain old-fashioned prejudice… on both sides, unfortunately.

 

The engineered Bemmius novus sapiens looked, to human eyes, pretty much like their non-engineered Europan relatives, which was to say fairly nightmarish to a lot of people, and definitely not comforting to run into in a narrow corridor. To the normal Europan Bemmies, the effect might be worse, a malformed, mutant with a flattened bottom and everything squished up much more in one direction. Normal Bemmies did have a sort of up-and-down orientation, but this was much more emphatic – and strange-looking.

 

Add to that the fact that such extensive redesign on an intelligent creature had never been attempted before – and in fact the techniques only perfected a few years before the project started – and you had a perfect recipe for nervous mistrust, prejudice, or sometimes an almost more annoying coddling attitude that treated every twitch as a matter of concern.

 

Sakura looked down at Whips, but the continued whooping of the alart klaxon told her she couldn’t stay – or follow him. Then suddenly a thought struck her. “Didn’t you hear that? Respond as to an actual emergency.”

 

     Whips turned two of his three eyes towards her. “Well, yeah, but so what?”

 

     “So in a real emergency you’re supposed to go to the nearest lifeboat, right?” She grinned. “And that happens to be ours.”

 

     Whips’ tendrils curled in with uncertainty. “I don’t know. What if –”

 

     “Come on. It’ll be a little less boring if you’re there!”

 

     Whips snorted, but immediately started a hopping drag in the direction of the Kimei family boat, his colors rippling swiftly back to brighter, more cheerful patterns. “And I can’t ever complain about it being boring with you around!”

 

 

 

Just For Fun: Covers/Cover Art

 

 

     The first thing anyone sees of one of my books (well, except for my beta-readers!) is the cover. The cover is the living embodiment of “first impressions”, and it’s proven that a bad cover can be death to a book’s sales. I’ve been fortunate in my covers, so far, and hopefully I will continue to be.

 

How the Covers are Made

     Different publishers approach this in different ways. Some publishers have historically directed the art completely separate from the author – the author never knows anything about the cover until he sees the flats. This of course can easily lead to covers that have little-to-nothing to do with the book in question.

 

For self-published authors, there’s usually direct control – the author chooses the artist (or, perhaps, picks an image they’ve located on the Web that’s appropriate), tells them what they want for the cover, and the artist produces. The downsides of this approach are that (A) many authors have terrible judgment as to what will make a good cover – after all, most of them aren’t artists or related visual arts people, and have a too-close personal connection to the work; and (B)most self-published authors can’t afford a top-notch cover artist like Bob Eggleton, Todd Lockwood, Kurt Miller, etc.; that’s in the four-figures range, more than many self-published books will ever make. There are of course some extremely good artists available for much less, but it is a crapshoot in many ways.

 

There are two very important points to remember about cover art: the first is that, as shown above, in traditional publishing the author has zero-to-little control over what goes on the cover. The cover (and in fact everything except the words of the actual novel and the dedications) is the province of the publisher. Second, the purpose of a cover is NOT to illustrate the book. It is to *SELL* the book. This generally means that it must (A) catch the eye, and (B) give the appropriate *impression* of the book. You want the cover to convince someone to reach out and pick it off a shelf (or click it on their screen) to get a closer look at it. As soon as the book’s picked up, the chances the book will be bought go up TREMENDOUSLY. If the cover doesn’t grab the eye, the chances of people noticing it, and picking it up, drop, even if the painting is absolutely lovely.

 

In my case, Baen Books has generally given me contact with the artist, so I can provide input, answers to questions, and so on, but I have no authority for what goes on them. I can make suggestions, but there’s no guarantee they’ll be taken. This does, however, at least make me feel involved in the book’s visual development as well as its writing, which is good.

 

Following, I discuss all of my covers to date – what I remember about the process, how I felt about the result, and so on. Overall, I’ve been very lucky with my covers, and I want to emphasize that I have NEVER gotten a cover which was actually bad. There have been some I wished were different, but that wasn’t, and isn’t, my call to make.

 

Cover: Digital Knight

     This was of course my first published novel. I was actually asked what artist I might like, and I chose Gary Ruddell, based on his work on various books going back years (he’s probably best known for his work on Hyperion and the Thieves’ World books; I don’t, alas, see a website dedicated to his cover art). I had a couple of conversations with Gary on possible image ideas, and he started doing some concept work.

 

     Jim Baen then asked if Gary could put a blonde (woman, natch) on the cover.

 

     Unfortunately, there really isn’t a blonde anywhere in the book, at least of note. A couple fairly minor characters, but the most major female characters are all darker haired.

 

     However, when the man who runs the company makes a suggestion, you do what you can with it.

 

     The result is here. The cover doesn’t of course connect to any particular event in Digital Knight, though I can through some mental gyrations come up with a possible offscreen event that would make it work – if Verne’s archivist Meta had chosen to dye her hair blonde, and was present during the invasion of his home in the section “Viewed in a Harsh Light”, that could easily be one of the OSR’s monsters facing Meta in the library.

 

     But accurate or not, what it DOES do is make a striking image that evokes the essence of the book – the collision of a normal, modern world with the monstrous and supernatural. That, alone, makes it a successful cover.

 

     Despite its not according with anything in the book directly, I’m still quite fond of this cover. It’s dynamic, it’s pretty, and of course it was my first-ever book cover.

 

Cover: Mountain Magic

     Mountain Magic, as an anthology, had a particular problem to deal with. It was 2/3 reprinted material, 1/3 brand new, and three different authors (well, four, but two of those were for the same story). What to do for the cover?

 

     Eventually, Jim decided that he wanted to honor the oldest of the stories, the Hogben stories by Kuttner, and asked for a retro-feeling cover that captured the era of the pulps in which the stories were first printed.

 

     Viewed in that light, the Mountain Magic cover (also by Gary) is an excellent cover, capturing much of the essence of the Hogben stories in the combined backwoods and Weird Stuff. It also represents the general concept of the backwoods strangeness reasonably well. So, as a cover, it’s pretty good.

 

     As a cover associated with our short novel Diamonds Are Forever, however, it doesn’t work directly. But truth be told, my main gripe really is that I wrote a specific scene in there which was a deliberate cover scene that played directly to the Baen Cover Reputation while being absolutely, 100% accurate to the book: the main heroine, Jodi, confronts a hideous centipede-dragonlike monster in an exotic underground setting clad in nothing but her underwear – and she has a very, very good reason for this.

 

     So I was, admittedly, somewhat disappointed that Jim didn’t take the bait and run with it. If I’m forced to choose, I suppose this is my least favorite cover, mainly because it doesn’t actually “connect” to the story that Eric and I wrote. But as a cover it’s perfectly good, and quite eye-catching.

 

Cover: Boundary

     Boundary, the first novel in the hard-SF trilogy authored by Eric Flint and myself, combines paleontology and realistic space travel in an unusal fashion, and because of that, I think, there was more back-and-forth on the cover on this one than any other of my books. Kurt Miller, an excellent artist, was selected by Baen to do the cover, and ended up corresponding with me several times. Kurt produced quite a number of beautiful preliminary sketches, which ranged from a lovely picture of Helen and A.J. in a lab aboard Nike while Mars looms in the background, to a spacesuited figure with a T-Rex reflected in the faceplate, to a more abstract cover with a T-Rex surrounded by falling meteors and the Earth-Moon system across from Mars.

 

     (I don’t have the rights to display those images or I would; they’re beautiful)

 

     Ultimately, the cover selected was from another of the initial concepts, with a strange alien spaceship threatened by a Rex and two raptors as a great meteoroid plunges down in the background. I loved the concept; while that precise scene is of course never shown in the book, the essence – the crossing of our ancient past with the present and the alien – worked very well for me.

 

     There have been a few people who liked to make fun of the cover, of course, because if one squints (and wants to find something silly to see) it can appear that the flaming tail of the meteoroid is actually fire coming from, er, the Rex’ nether regions. I don’t actually see that – the angle’s not right – but that hasn’t stopped “Flame-farting dinosaur” from becoming a minor meme.

 

     Nonetheless, I was, and am, very happy with the cover, and feel it accomplished exactly what it needed to.

 

Cover: Threshold

     The second of the three Boundary novels was given a cover by none other than the legendary Bob Eggleton, one of the most well-known names in SF/F artistry, and he lived up to his reputation. Bob exchanged several emails with me to adjust the concept and get it right; he also indicated he was enjoying the story itself very much, which I found gratifying indeed.

 

     Threshold‘s coveris done in a style that hearkens back to some of the Golden-Age, while using modern sensibilities, showing a spacesuited figure on EVA with the Munin in the foreground, Odin and part of Europa in the middle ground, and Jupiter looming in the back – a wonderful composite that might not precisely be a scene from the book, but is one that could happen and showcases the exotic location –- and even the mass-beam vessel Odin – to perfection.

 

Cover: Portal

     Bob Eggleton returned – with great enthusiasm – to paint the cover of the final volume of the Boundary trilogy. Already familiar with the universe and the way the second volume had ended, Bob had a clear idea of what he intended to do pretty much from the beginning… and argued for a full wraparound cover, because he wanted to do a huge painting for this one. Toni agreed.

 

     The result  (which this is only a portion of) is an awe-inspiring panorama of the Europan surface, the wreck of the Nebula Storm projecting like an alien claw into the black sky, with small figures of the refugees visible and the threatening, spectacular presence of mighty Jupiter looming above them all. It’s a scene straight from the book and one that brings the images in my head to life very well, especially the strange alien orange-metallic hull of Nebula Storm and the chill, varicolored ice of Europa. Definitely one of my favorites.

 

     Bob also convinced Toni to let him do a B&W interior illo, this one for the attack on the submerged Zarathustra by the giant orekath (underwater Europan predator).

 

Cover: Grand Central Arena

     For my second solo novel, Stephen Hickman was selected as the cover artist. Stephen and I spoke on the phone, and exchanged a few emails. The resulting cover is a powerful, dynamic and bright scene of one of the most compelling portions of the book – the confrontation between Amas-Garao, sorcerer-like “Shadeweaver”, and Ariane Austin, Captain of the Holy Grail.

 

     Multiple people have mentioned various aspects of the scene that are “off” (I’ve had more mail on this cover than most), and I want to make clear that (A) obvious choices/liberties were taken for presentation, and (B) certain details were incorrect because I failed to make them clear. Most obviously, Ariane’s armor in the Arena is not supposed to be bulky at all, but more like a flak jacket, and she actually refused to wear her helmet, but the way in which we were discussing it, I managed to give Stephen the exact opposite impression. So that’s my mistake, not his.

 

     What this cover accomplishes very well is the juxtaposition of the brilliant color and dramatic setting of the Golden Age with an element of the mysterious, in direct conflict, the human versus the incomprehensible, which is the spirit of the Arena in a nutshell.

 

     BUT that isn’t the last of the story, because – alone thus far of my works – Grand Central Arena was translated into another language, Japanese to be precise, and with that re-issue came a new set of covers. I’m still not quite sure who the artist is; I’ve found two possible names and never gotten good confirmation on either one.

 

     Whoever he or she was, they did an absolutely brilliant job with no contact with me. Someone not only read the book, but must have read at least some of my notes and postings elsewhere, because they got a number of details right that even a reasonable reader might have missed.

 

     The Japanese cover for Grand Central Arena – or rather, coverS, because it was split into two separate books at publication – is unique because it is in fact a single painting with the heroes on one side and the opposition on the other, in brilliant manga-style illustrations that bring the characters to life. Oh, there are minor details I might quibble with – Ariane’s hair’s supposed to be dark blue, DuQuesne’s beard is supposed to just be a single-point Van Dyke – but overall it’s astoundingly well done and dynamic. As I often visualized Grand Central Arena in an anime style when I wrote it, it was particularly gratifying to see some of my imagination brougth to life in that fashion.

 

     At least at the moment I have not heard that the Japanese have picked up the sequel, which is a disappointment; I would have loved to see their interpretation of Wu.

 

Cover: Phoenix Rising

     Phoenix Rising is a very important novel to me, as it was the first novel to present my world of Zarathan to the greater public. I’ve spent over 35 years working on it since the concept for the world first came into my head, and the particular story of Kyri and her journey to seek justice for her family’s losses is itself over 20 years old now.

    

     So I was, I think understandably, nervous about what kind of a cover I would get for Phoenix Rising.

 

     What I got was the cover that, at least at the moment, is my favorite of all.

 

     That’s not an easy decision; I have, as I said, had good covers consistently.

 

     But Todd Lockwood’s “Phoenix Rises!” is what perhaps is the Platonic Ideal of covers for an author: a cover that draws the eye, that captures the essence of the book – and that is, in fact, part of the book, a scene brought to perfect, blazing life on the cover. Anyone who has read Phoenix Rising knows the exact scene they’re viewing there, with Kyri, Tobimar, and Poplock suddenly against a seemingly unstoppable, unending horde of enemies.

 

     Kyri, especially, is properly done – armored in fanciful armor but stuff that could protect her rather than something cheesecakey, with her titanic flaming greatsword blazing over her head as she faces her enemies. Poor Tobimar is not quite as visible – but in a way, that’s good, because the only way to see him well would have meant he had his back to the enemy, which would make him look stupid. I had wondered if Todd could even get Poplock, tiny as he is, on the cover, but I needn’t have worried; the little Toad hops away in the foreground, close enough to see, far enough down that he might be overlooked at first, just as he is often in the book.

 

Cover: Spheres of Influence

     The last of my current covers is the one for Spheres of Influence, sequel to Grand Central Arena. This one, by Alan Pollack, uses tension, rather than action, as its focal point. Where the cover for Phoenix Rising is a scene of combat, of action caught frozen in mid-stroke, the cover for Spheres of Influence is a scene of action not yet realized but implicit, of tension about to be released.

 

Ariane is in the hands of her enemies (spoilers! So I won’t say who), but her posture, her expression, and especially her eyes, say as clearly as if she has spoken to us: “Yes, you’ve caught me. But can you HOLD me?”

 

     It is in its way a brilliant cover, and also performs the vital task of drawing the eye as have the others. I’m very happy with it.

 

     Another thing that Spheres does is to extend the opportunity afforded by both the original and Japanese covers to Grand Central Arena – to compare the vision of other artists on their depiction of the same character. I have actually had the chance to have no fewer than five depictions of Ariane to enjoy: the original GCA cover, the Japanese cover, the images created for me by Mary Dell, and one image of Ariane as envisioned by Keith Morrison (more prominently featured as the person who produced the brilliant video sequences of the Holy Grail, and the still images of the various vessels of the Boundary series.)

 

 

End Note:

     To see a new cover for my work – the new “face” that my book will present to the world – is always a moment of joy and wonder to me. Perhaps, if I end up with fifty or a hundred books published, this feeling will diminish, but I don’t think so. I can’t produce that kind of art; I can see it in my head, know what I want it to look like, but I know that even if I have the talent somewhere, I don’t have the time to bring it out.

 

     So what a cover artist does for me is bring a little bit of my own dreams to life.

 

     This is a thank you to all the artists I have had good fortune to have thus far, and – hopefully – the future. Thank you, Gary Ruddell, Kurt Miller, Bob Eggleton, Steve Hickman, Todd Lockwood, and Alan Pollack. Thanks for holding up a mirror to my dreams and letting me see them through the eyes of another.