H. I. V. E.: Higher Institute of Villainous Education

by Mark Walden

  ‘The name of this class is Villainy Studies, and it is in these lessons that you will learn to embrace your true potential, to unlock the true villain that lurks inside each and every one of you. It is, however, important to make one thing very clear from the start. I am not interested in training you to be common criminals – six months in any typical prison would achieve that. Instead I will teach you to aspire to loftier goals, to push yourself further than you might previously have thought you could go. H.I.V.E. does not train bank robbers, burglars, car thieves, or muggers. In short, we will not teach you to be petty crooks. Nor do we advocate mindless violence – except of course in the Henchman stream – a true villain should not have to dirty their hands with such things. You won’t blackmail individuals, you’ll blackmail governments. You won’t rob banks, you’ll take them over. You won’t kidnap people, you’ll steal aircraft carriers.

  ‘Now I know what at least some of you will be thinking. Isn’t this evil? Isn’t this wrong? Well, let me answer that for you.’ Nero paused, as if trying to spot those in the room who might harbour these doubts.

  ‘Evil,’ he continued, ‘is a woefully misunderstood concept. Most ordinary people would define evil using words like “bad” or “wrong”, but it is my intention to show you that its real meaning is much deeper and more complex than that. These might be the definitions that ordinary people choose, but you are not like them – you are extraordinary, and as such you do not need to live your lives within the suffocating restraints of their moral codes. You are all capable of evil – everyone is – but the real challenge before you now is to understand that evil does not mean wrong. Evil must have purpose, a determination to get what you want by any means necessary, strength in the face of adversity, intelligence in a world ruled by stupidity. You are the leaders of tomorrow, men and women who can, and will, change the face of this planet for ever.’

  Thermonuclear weapons could change the face of the planet for ever, Otto thought; it didn’t mean to say that they should be viewed as role models for the ambitious go-getter.

  Nero continued, ‘I’m sure that there must have been times when you have read books or watched films and found yourself secretly wishing for the villain to win. Why? Isn’t that against the rules by which our society lives? Why should you feel this way? It’s simple really; the villain is the true hero of these tales, not the wellintentioned moron who somehow foils their diabolical scheme. The villain gets all the best lines, has the best costumes, has unlimited power and wealth – why on earth would anyone NOT want to be the villain? But you see, that’s the real problem. If the masses realised how much more fun life would be if they could all wear the black costume, where would that leave us? What would become of society if people understood that in the real world the hero rarely wins against overwhelming odds and that the villain always has the last laugh? The world would be locked in a perpetual state of anarchy, in all likelihood. So it is important that such an education only be given to those who deserve it, those who have the intelligence and strength of character to understand the power that they wield. Let the masses have their fantasy heroes, and meanwhile the best of what the world has to offer will be yours for the taking.’

  Otto had no doubt that Nero had given this speech many times before. It had the ring of a well-practised hard-sell routine. That wasn’t to say it didn’t work. The class sat quietly, listening intently to what Nero was saying. A couple of the students were even taking notes, much to Otto’s amusement. The way that Nero described it, embracing life as a villain was an opportunity not to be missed.

  ‘Of course the best way to learn anything is to study the masters of your chosen craft at work, and so we will examine the greatest villains throughout history in an attempt to better understand what it is that distinguishes the true evil genius from the gifted sociopath. Throughout history there have been men and women who have demonstrated that villainy is not just a job but an art form, and these people shall be your role models, your heroes, the examples that you should seek to follow.’

  Nero looked around the room again – he made a point of ensuring that he taught this particular course to the new Alpha students each year. It was always a delicate balancing act making sure that the school produced leaders and not monsters. Each and every child in this room had the potential to be either and it was his job, as the head of the school, to ensure that H.I.V.E. did not unleash any pupil on the world who would tip the delicate balance of world power towards anarchy. Creating such chaos, attractive as it might be to some, was not at all the type of thing that Nero wanted from his pupils, they had to learn the importance of discretion and style in this new line of work.

  ‘With this in mind I intend to start today by looking at the illustrious career of one of our past alumni, the now sadly departed Diabolus Darkdoom.’ Nero picked up a small remote control from the desk and thumbed a button. A screen slowly lowered from the ceiling behind him, showing a picture of a strikingly handsome man. He wore a long black frock coat and held a duelling sword, its tip resting on the ground. His head was completely bald and his calm expression seemed to convey a sense of self-confidence and capability.

  Otto glanced over at Nigel, who did not look happy that his father was going to be the topic of that day’s lesson. Nero had to be aware of the fact that Nigel was Diabolus’s son, and it seemed that he was deliberately choosing, for whatever reason, to put him in this uncomfortable situation.

  ‘As some of you may already know,’ Nero walked over and placed a hand on Nigel’s shoulder, ‘a member of the Darkdoom family is actually here with us today, and I would like to start by saying that I’m sure we all wish to pass on our condolences on the recent loss of your father, Nigel.’

  Nigel seemed to shrink slightly in his seat as he became the focus of attention of everyone in the room.

  ‘Thank you,’ he mumbled, his pale face turning slowly crimson.

  ‘For those of you who don’t know, Nigel’s father was one of the greatest villains the world has ever known. His exploits upon graduating from H.I.V.E. have become the stuff of legend, and I can think of no better role model for you all to adopt over the coming years.’

  Apart from the dying prematurely part, Otto hoped.

  ‘To truly understand what it was that made Diabolus such an exceptional example, we must look more closely at his history and the details of some of his more famous schemes. One of the best examples was when he succeeded in kidnapping the American president a few years ago and replacing him with an android replica. It took nearly three weeks for anyone to notice . . .’

  For the next hour Nero continued to chronicle Dark-doom Senior’s life, detailing one nefarious plot after another, each one seemingly more devilishly cunning than the last one. It was quite unlike any history lesson that Otto had previously experienced – Nero was giving them a glimpse of a world that the majority of the planet’s population weren’t even aware existed. This was a world where the massed legions of villainy were engaged in a never-ending struggle with the forces of justice that was kept entirely secret from everyone else. Otto couldn’t help but be astonished by some of the events that had taken place right under the unsuspecting noses of the general public. But, thanks to a suspiciously convenient lack of coverage by the media and some gargantuan cover-ups by national governments, the vast majority of people remained blissfully unaware of this clandestine war that was going on around them.

  Otto kept a close eye on Nigel throughout this exploration of his father’s life. There would be an occasional look of astonishment on his face as Nero would detail some event or plot that his father had been responsible for that suggested that there were things that even his son hadn’t known about him.

  As the end of the lesson drew near, Nero invited them to ask questions about what they had seen. Multiple hands shot up around the room and Nero pointed at a boy with curly blond hair at the back of the room.

  ‘Yes, Mr Langstrom. What would you like to ask?’

 
‘What happened to Darkdoom?’ the boy asked.

  ‘Well, you will understand, I’m sure, if I don’t want to go into detail concerning that, out of respect for Nigel’s feelings. You must remember that these events, while of historical interest to you, are still painfully recent memories for him,’ Nero replied.

  Otto was glad that Nigel would be spared the details of his father’s death, but he couldn’t help feeling curious himself. From the way that Diabolus had been described it was hard to imagine a situation that would lead to his demise. Judging from the pained expression on Nigel’s face it was likely that he knew exactly what had happened to his father and that it was not a pleasant memory.

  The boy nodded. ‘Yes, of course. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.’ Nigel looked relieved that the subject was not going to be discussed in detail.

  Nero picked out another raised hand, inviting a girl with her hair in dreadlocks to speak.

  ‘It seems like some of the elements of his schemes were pointless. Why build a fully manned space station with an orbital laser cannon mounted on it when it would have been easier to just put the laser into orbit and control it from the ground, or even just destroy his targets with conventional weapons? Why risk detection by going to all that trouble? It’s not like all that extra effort made his plan any more effective.’

  Nero smiled. ‘A very good question, and one whose answer lies at the very core of what we hope to teach you at H.I.V.E. What Diabolus understood, and what I hope you will all come to understand as well, is that a scheme must have style; a plot must have a plot, if you will. There are people all over the world who have the talent and the ability to put together a simple criminal scheme, but we must always strive to elevate ourselves beyond that level. Is it necessary to build a giant robotic squid to destroy shipping? Why not just use torpedoes or sabotage? Because it’s been done before. When you graduate from H.I.V.E. you will be the trailblazers, the cutting edge of evil, leaders for whom the conventional should never be good enough. As such your schemes should never rely on what has been done before – they must be original, cunning and, above all, stylish. Let the common criminal follow awestruck in your footsteps while you push ahead, searching for the next challenge, always innovating, never standing still.’

  Otto noticed that many of the students in the room seemed slightly confused by this, but it made perfect sense to him. It was as if Nero was describing something that Otto had always been aware of, this need to not only win but to win with style. He couldn’t deny that it sounded attractive, and for the first time since he had arrived on the island he found himself wondering if there really was something that H.I.V.E. had to offer him.

  MWAH, MWAAAAH, MWAH!!!!

  The school bell rang to signal the end of the lesson, making Otto jump. Nero raised his voice as the children began to pack their books and notes away.

  ‘For next week’s lesson I want you all to have studied the first three chapters of Elementary Evil. There will be a short test and I expect you all to get full marks. Class dismissed.’

  .

  Chapter Eight

  Otto and Wing made their way through the bustling corridors, heading for the Tactical Education department and their first lesson with Colonel Francisco. Franz and Nigel were walking just ahead of them, Franz chatting animatedly to a subdued-looking Nigel.

  ‘Do you think Nigel is all right?’ Wing asked, looking with concern at the short, bald boy.

  ‘I don’t think that he was quite prepared to go through his father’s life story in his very first lesson, if that’s what you mean,’ Otto replied.

  ‘Diabolus cannot have been the only person that was worthy of study,’ Wing noted. ‘One has to wonder why Dr Nero chose such an emotive subject.’

  ‘You’ll go mad trying to second guess that man. Whatever his reasons, it can’t have been easy for Nigel.’ Otto looked again at Nigel, who seemed to be lost in thought despite Franz’s constant chatter. Otto picked up his pace. ‘Come on, let’s rescue him from Franz.’

  ‘Hi guys,’ Otto greeted them. ‘So, have either of you heard anything about this Colonel Francisco that we ought to know?’

  ‘Ja, I am hearing from one of the other students that he is being one of the toughest teachers at the school,’ Franz replied, looking slightly nervous. Otto reckoned that Franz’s nerves might have more to do with the prospect of imminent physical exertion that anything else.

  ‘Well, that’s good to know, considering what pussy cats all of the other teachers we’ve met so far have been,’ Otto replied sarcastically. ‘What about you, Nigel? Have you heard anything interesting about him?’

  ‘No, not really.’ Nigel sounded thoroughly depressed. He didn’t seem to be able to look the others in the eye. ‘But I bet he’s heard of my dad.’ There was a surprising bitterness in his voice.

  ‘Ja, your father was being the big cheese around here, I think,’ Franz replied cheerily, seemingly oblivious to Nigel’s apparent unhappiness.

  ‘Well, I just wish everyone would shut up about him.’ Nigel seemed genuinely angry for a moment before his previous glumness returned. ‘I’m sick of hearing about how bloody wonderful he was. You didn’t have to live with him.’

  Nero sat at his desk in his study, impatiently waiting for the video screen on the opposite wall to flicker into life. He was scheduled to receive a call from Number One, the only man in the world he found intimidating, the commander of the Global League of Villainous Enterprises, or G.L.O.V.E. Very little was actually known about the man other than the fact that over the last forty years he had built G.L.O.V.E up from a small criminal cartel to the most powerful and widespread syndicate that the world had ever known. Nobody knew his true identity – he made a point of never meeting with anyone in person – and there were a thousand different theories as to who he might actually be. The fact remained that the only people who had ever tried to usurp him had been dealt with swiftly and brutally, serving as a powerful example to any others who might secretly harbour such plans.

  As usual the call had been pre-arranged by Number One’s subordinates, and Nero was expected to be in a position to receive the call at the appointed time. Woe betide the man who was not dutifully sitting waiting when Number One called – he was not known for his patience. And so it was that Nero sat watching the second hand of the clock on his desk slowly sweep around to the appointed time. He had never known a call from Number One to even be a second late and he doubted very much that this would be the first time.

  As the second hand ticked past twelve the video screen lit up with the familiar H.I.V.E. fist and globe logo. The symbol faded away to be replaced by a silhouette of a man, his appearance entirely hidden.

  ‘Maximilian. It is good to speak with you again,’ the shadowy figure on the screen began.

  ‘The honour is mine, Number One. There is something that you wished to discuss with me?’ Nero asked.

  ‘Indeed. I trust that the latest intake of students has been successfully acquired.’

  ‘Yes, sir. This year’s intake numbered nearly two hundred students across all streams, our highest new intake for some time.’

  ‘And the retrieval operations went smoothly?’

  Nero contemplated telling Number One about the difficulties that the retrieval team had when trying to recruit the Fanchu boy, but decided against it. He knew that there was a chance that Number One may have already heard about the incident – he did after all appear to have sources of intelligence in every corner of the globe – but he trusted his operatives’ discretion in such matters.

  ‘No, Number One. Everything proceeded according to plan,’ Nero replied, keeping his voice even. Number One was notorious for his ability to sense a lie.

  ‘Good. I would be most disappointed if anything happened to reveal any hint of H.I.V.E.’s existence to the world. We cannot afford to relocate the school again.’

  ‘Our existence is still a secret, sir, you can rest assured of that.’ Nero knew what the personal consequenc
es would be if this ever ceased to be the case.

  ‘Good. See that it remains that way,’ Number One replied.

  Nero knew that Number One was not just calling to discuss the retrieval of the new intake of students. He had already detailed the success of the operation in his usual report to G.L.O.V.E. and Number One could easily have found that information within it.

  ‘Is there anything else, Number One?’ Nero enquired, knowing that there must be.

  ‘Yes, there is one other thing. The Malpense child.’

  Alarm bells started to ring in Nero’s head.

  ‘Yes, sir, he arrived safely yesterday.’

  ‘Yes, I know. You may be curious to know who is sponsoring his admission to the program.’

  Nero was indeed curious. He had checked Malpense’s records after he had greeted the new students in the entrance cavern. The Contessa’s report on his behaviour during the introductory tour and the incident in the dining hall had only confirmed Nero’s initial impression of the boy, and he had been keen to find out as much as possible about this new student. After all, it was not every day that H.I.V.E. took in a new student who had already deposed a head of state before they had even started their training. Nero had become more curious when he had tried to access the details of Otto’s sponsor, only to be informed that his G.L.O.V.E. security clearance was not high enough to access that information. This had astonished and then worried Nero. It had certainly never happened before, and there were very few people in the world who had a higher security clearance than he did.

  ‘Yes, sir. It is somewhat irregular that I cannot access the details of his sponsor, though I’m sure it was for a very good reason.’ Nero picked his words carefully; talking with this man could be like tap dancing in a minefield.