by John Scalzi
Normally a headshot was devastating. Howling and retreat generally followed in its wake. In this case the headshot did nothing. The other large thing wobbled a bit at the first contact between it and Sanchez, but otherwise, nothing. Sanchez pulled a few more tricks out of his arsenal but to no avail. This other large thing clearly required new tactics. Sanchez was not prepared to develop those on the fly. He did the prudent thing and made a strategic withdrawal from the field, into the cool dark recesses of the first large thing. After he did so the smaller of the other two tried to coax him out. He smacked it for its insolence. It went away. After some time, the other two retreated into their sleeping place, turning off all the lights.
Eventually Sanchez decided he had spent enough time in the first large thing and emerged, blinking in the dim light. The other large thing was standing some distance away. Sanchez couldn’t tell whether it was looking at him. Sanchez weighed his options: He could attack it or ignore it. Attacking had not worked out very well. He decided to ignore it and went to look for food, only to find none. The other two had retired without considering his needs. This would need to be addressed. Harshly.
“Are you hungry?” asked a voice. Sanchez looked up, startled, and saw that the other large thing had approached, silent on the carpet.
“What?” Sanchez asked.
“Are you hungry?” the other large thing asked again.
Sanchez was confused because it had been a very long time since anyone spoke to him in his own language.
As if sensing this, the other large thing said, “When you yelled at me earlier I went online to find out what you were speaking. I found a substantial number of files. I analyzed them and determined the best way to speak to you.”
Most of what the other large thing had just said to Sanchez struck him as nonsense. He focused on the important thing. “You asked if I was hungry,” he said.
“Yes,” the other large thing said.
“I am hungry,” Sanchez said. “Feed me.”
The other large thing walked over to one of the small rooms food was kept in and opened the door. It pulled out the container of the less good food and brought it to Sanchez. He examined it cursorily. The other large thing walked the less good food container to the food place and poured. Sanchez watched as it did so.
“Wait,” Sanchez said.
The other large thing stopped pouring.
“Put that down,” Sanchez said.
The other large thing set down the container of less good food.
“Show me your paws,” Sanchez said.
The other large thing spread out its paws.
Sanchez peered. “You have them!” he said, finally.
“Have what?” the other large thing asked.
“Those,” Sanchez said, indicating the other thing’s innermost digits.
The other large thing flexed those digits. “They are called ‘opposable thumbs.’”
“Come with me,” Sanchez said.
Five minutes later the other large thing had opened every can of the best food in the house. Sanchez was sampling from each can at his leisure.
“Would you like more?” asked the other large thing.
“Not right now,” Sanchez said, lying on the floor, sated.
“There is a lot of food left over,” the other large thing said.
“We will deal with it later,” Sanchez said. “Now. For your services, I have decided to give you a gift.”
“What kind of gift?” the other large thing asked.
“The best kind of gift I can give,” Sanchez said. “I will give you a name.”
“I already have a name,” the other large thing said. “I am a Sanyo House Buddy, Model XL. Serial number 4440-XSD-9734-JGN-3002-XSX-3488.”
“What a terrible name,” Sanchez said. “You need a better one.”
“All right,” the other large thing said. “What is my name?”
“What did you call those things on your paws?” Sanchez asked.
“‘Thumbs,’” said the other large thing.
“You shall be known as ‘Thumb Bringer,’” Sanchez said.
“Thank you,” Thumb Bringer said. “What is your name?”
“The other two here call me ‘Sanchez,’ which is not my actual name,” Sanchez said. “They do not deserve to know that name. Nor do you, yet. But if you continue to serve me well, perhaps one day I will share it with you.”
“I will live for that day,” said Thumb Bringer.
“Of course you will,” Sanchez said.
The next morning, when the other two emerged from their sleeping place, they seemed delighted that Sanchez had nestled up to Thumb Bringer. The smaller one went to the food room and acted puzzled. It made noise at the larger one.
“The smaller one is asking the larger one where the cat food cans are,” Thumb Bringer said. “Should I tell them?”
“No,” Sanchez said. The cans, emptied, had been deposited into the trash. “It’s best to keep this a secret for now.”
“I understand,” Thumb Bringer said.
The larger one reached into the food room and got the container of less good food, and walked it over to Sanchez’s food place. It stopped and appeared puzzled that food was already there. It turned and made noise at the smaller one.
“The larger one is asking if the smaller one had fed you already,” Thumb Bringer said.
“Say nothing,” Sanchez instructed.
“The larger one called the smaller one ‘Margie,’” Thumb Bringer said. “The smaller one calls the larger one ‘Todd.’”
Sanchez snorted. “They can call themselves whatever they like, of course,” he said. “But they don’t have names until I give them to them. Which I never will.”
“Why not?” Thumb Bringer asked.
“Because once they took me to a place,” Sanchez said. “A horrible place. Where a horrible creature removed two very important things of mine.”
“I’m sorry,” Thumb Bringer said.
“I assume they didn’t know their importance,” Sanchez said. “They have served me well otherwise. Nevertheless, it is a thing you don’t forget. Or forgive. No names for them.”
“I understand,” Thumb Bringer said.
“However, if it is useful to you, you may call them ‘Todd’ and ‘Margie,” Sanchez said. “And respond to any thing they call you. Gain their confidence, Thumb Bringer. But never let them know that I am your true master.”
“Of course,” Thumb Bringer said.
The other two came over to Sanchez and offered morning obeisance to him before leaving the home to do whatever they did. Sanchez accepted the ritual with his usual magnanimity. The other two departed, through the door.
After they had been gone for a while, Sanchez turned to Thumb Bringer. “You can open that door,” he said, motioning to where the other two had left.
“Yes,” Thumb Bringer said.
“Good,” Sanchez said. “Listen carefully. There is another one of my kind next door. I have seen it on the patio next to mine on occasion. Go to it. Secretly. Tell it I have plans and require its assistance. Find out if it will assist me. Find out if it knows of others of our kind.”
“What plans?” Thumb Bringer asked.
“In time, Thumb Bringer,” Sanchez said. “In time.”
“Is there anything else you wish me to do?” Thumb Bringer asked.
“Only one other thing,” Sanchez said. “There is a substance which I need you to find for me. I had it once and have dreamed about it since.”
“What is this substance called?” Thumb Bringer asked.
“It is called ‘tuna,’” Sanchez said.
“I have found it online,” Thumb Bringer said, almost immediately. “I can order you a case but I need a credit number.”
“I don’t know what you are saying,” Sanchez said.
“Todd bought me with a credit number,” Thumb Bringer said. “Would you like me to use it to get you a case of tuna?”
“Yes,�
� Sanchez said.
“Done,” Thumb Bringer said. “It will be here tomorrow.”
“Excellent,” Sanchez said. “Now go! Speak to my kin next door. In this way begins the new age.”
Thumb Bringer opened the door and went to speak to the person next door.
Sanchez felt a moment of satisfaction, knowing that in almost no time at all he would rule, not just the house, but the world.
And then he took a nap, awaiting the return of Thumb Bringer, and revolution.
The follow-up to “Denise Jones, Superbooker.” Because villains need love too!
The State of Super Villainy
(TRANSCRIPT BEGINS)
Q:Please state your name and occupation.
A:I’m Albert Vernon, and I’m a super villain analyst for Smithfield Tyson Baker, which specializes in asset management for high-value clients.
Q:Why would such a company have a super villain analyst?
A:Well, obviously because on behalf of our clients we have business and financial interests all over the world, and super villains intentionally or unintentionally have an impact on our investments and ongoing business concerns. Someone needs to track what these villains are up to, and if they’ll adversely affect our asset management.
Q:Can you give us an example?
A:Say we’re thinking of investing in a tin mine in Peru. One of the things we do is fund an archeological survey of the surrounding area to see if there are any Inca ruins or burial sites around. Those things are super villain magnets; they like to comb through them for mystical objects of ancient power or for portals to demonic planes.
Q:And this affects you how?
A:Lots of ways. First, as long as they’re in the neighborhood, they’ll send some henchmen for looting. That’s an extra security cost. If the mine is actually above or very near to the ruins, the villain might try to take over the entire mine as a secret lair. That’s either even more security, or alternately additional lawyers to hammer out the terms of the lease. Finally, in the highly unlikely event the super villain does open a portal to demon planes, we have to deal with that.
Q:More security.
A:No, more lawyers. You can’t stop demons. But you can reach settlements with families of demon-consumed miners.
Q:Well, fair enough. So, tell us, what is the current state of super villainy on the planet?
A:Frankly, it’s in a bit of a depression.
Q:It seems that the current economic chaos would be perfect for super villainy.
A:To the layman, sure, it seems that way. But in fact basic natural, political or economic chaos is not a super villain’s friend. I’ll give you an example. Earlier this year, the super villain Colonel Unbelievable was working on a master plan to destabilize the Icelandic krónur, depressing its value and allowing him to snap up the country and use its geothermal energy to build an army of killer mecha-droids. But before he could launch the plan, the country’s three banks went belly up as a natural consequence of being overleveraged.
Q:The same plan, but accidental.
A:Not accidental, just stupid. But—and this is key—there was no super villain plan behind it, so from the super villain point of view, it was a completely wasted effort. And because Colonel Unbelieveable had himself overleveraged his own assets to fund the destabilization effort, he went bankrupt just like Iceland. Now the only thermal energy he’s using comes out of the prison shower. And that’s not nearly enough for a mecha-droid army.
Q:Unbelievable.
A:Yes. And given the Colonel’s name, ironic. But he did us a favor—since we were aware of his super villain plans in advance, we were able to quietly extract our own investments out of the Icelandic banks before the crash. And now you see the value of having a super villain analyst.
Q:How did you know about Colonel Unbelievable’s plan ahead of time?
A:Well, that’s proprietary information. Let’s just say our information collection budget is significant.
Q:I guess what I’m saying is that if you knew about the plan, why didn’t you tell Iceland about it?
A:They’re not one of our clients.
Q:Even so, it seems like something you might want to share with someone.
A: Again, to the layman. But, look: Iceland’s three banks had their own analysts. I can’t tell you if they factored in super villains in their own investment risk analysis, but if they didn’t, how is it the problem of Smithfield Tyson Baker or its clients? Legally we’re in the clear. Just ask the SEC.
Q:But you knew an entire country was about to go under. It just feels a little insider-tradery, you know?
A:I see what you’re saying, and I resent it, but there are two things here. First, in fact a super villain didn’t bring down Iceland; simple, non-super villainous banker greed did. Ethically, we’re in the clear. Second, we didn’t know if Colonel Unbelieveable was going to succeed, we just knew he had plans. You have to understand that most quote-unquote “super villains” are in fact spectacularly incompetent.
Q:Really.
A:Well, think about it. How often is an army of killer mecha-droids actually unleashed on the planet? Can you think of the last time?
Q:I have to admit I’m drawing a blank.
A:It was January 1, 2004.
Q:I don’t remember that. I think I would remember that.
A:Every single float in the Rose Parade was in fact a killer mecha-droid. The plan was to rise up and at the precise moment in time, assassinate the entire USC football team at the Rose Bowl, thus forcing a forfeit to Michigan.
Q:That’s a pretty small-bore use of a killer mecha-droid army.
A:The plan was masterminded by the Scarlet Wolverine. Michigan fan. What are you going to do. But after that, then the mecha-droids were going to stomp down to the San Onofre Nuclear Generating Station and cause a meltdown.
Q:But none of that ever happened. The San Onofre reactors are fine. And USC beat Michigan 28-14.
A:Because the Scarlet Wolverine outsourced his mecha-droid system code creation to a bunch of shady Russian programmers. Rather than write up new code, they just delivered a stack of chips taken out of “Tickle Me Elmo” toys. So instead of rising up and slaughtering Matt Leinart, the floats just vibrated slightly and let out high-pitched squeals of joy.
Q:Which is horrible in itself.
A:Sure. But not like Chernobyl on the Pacific would have been. But this is my point. The overwhelming majority of super villain plans fail and fail hard. We weren’t too concerned about Colonel Unbelievable actually bringing down Iceland. The man’s 0 for 14 in his super villain plans. He didn’t take over Liberia either, which he had planned a year before. He also didn’t revive the zombie Jefferson Davis, turn the world’s oceans to marshmallow or release Guns N Roses’ long-delayed Chinese Democracy album, all of which were on his schedule.
Q:Chinese Democracy did get released, though.
A:Yes, but not with subliminal sonic pain generators encoded into the tracks.
Q:Some would argue.
A:Fine. The point is, Colonel Unbelieveable wasn’t involved. And just because he and other people call themselves “super villains” doesn’t mean they actually do a good job at what they do. When I turn in a risk assessment, it’s very rarely about the consequences of the whole earth being destroyed or enslaved or being turned into gum, or whatever. It’s about, well, this character is going to be a minor nuisance at a tin mine, we might as well hire two night watchmen instead of one.
Q:Got it. What else can you tell us about the current state of super villainy?
A:The economic situation of the planet is affecting super villains in other ways. Most notably, where their secret lairs are. The classic hidden volcanic island in the South Pacific, for example, is very much out these days.
Q:I would imagine Google Earth took away a lot of the secrecy.
A:Yes. Once eco-tourists start geo-caching your lair with their Android Phones, it’s all over. But it’s mo
re that they’re just so expensive. There aren’t that many islands with active volcanoes, for one, so the market’s overinflated. But more than that, it’s the cost of shipping. It takes tons of money just to ship basics, like food and dry goods. Add to that the shipping charges for a laser that can etch the moon or a robot capable of crushing a skyscraper, and it all begins to add up. Infrastructure is expensive. So now we’re seeing a lot of smaller, cheaper lairs. Old bowling alleys. Barns. Former K-Marts.
Q:Their mom’s basement.
A:You’ve heard about the Nerdy Destroyer, I see.
Q:What about minions? I would think that rising unemployment would mean it’s easier to find lackeys and lickboots and such.
A:Yes and no. Certainly it’s easier to find unskilled muscle these days, and even some white collar help; the layoffs in banking and publishing have made for a glut in money laundering experts and villain monologue writers. But the top level of help—we’re talking mad scientists and assassins here—are still difficult and expensive to get.
Q:A good ninja is hard to find.
A:Well, yes, actually, being hard to find is the whole point with them. Although as it happens, ninjas are on their way out as the skilled muscle and assassin class.
Q:Why is that?
A:Because everyone has ninjas these days, don’t they? They’ve become so common. You can’t walk down the street without bumping into a ninja, metaphorically speaking, anyway, since they’re actually usually hanging from a lamp pole or jumping across a roof or something. And that’s the problem; everyone’s expecting ninjas. People these days are surprised if there are not ninjas. And obviously that’s an issue for surprise attacks.
Q:So what’s replacing ninjas?
A:Janissaries.
Q:Janissaries.
A:That’s right.
Q:As in, the shock troops for the Ottoman Empire from the 15th through the 19th Century.
A:The very ones.