by Mark Walden
‘It is an honour to make your acquaintance, Miss Dexter,’ Wing said, giving a short bow.
‘I think he means hi,’ Otto said with a grin and nudged Wing.
‘Indeed, hi,’ Wing said, raising an eyebrow.
‘So what do you think of the old place?’ Laura asked, gesturing vaguely at the walls surrounding them.
‘It’s . . . well, I suppose the word is . . . unbelievable,’ Lucy replied. She sounded slightly shell-shocked.
‘A secret school for the super-villains of the future, hidden inside a volcano on a remote tropical island – what’s so hard to believe about that?’ Otto grinned.
‘Aye, sounds perfectly normal to me, which is, you know, deeply troubling whichever way you look at it,’ Laura added.
Lucy laughed and gestured towards the folder she’d been flicking through.
‘I’ve been given the tour and I’m working my way through the induction manual that they gave me but, to be honest with you, I’m not even really sure why I’m here. One minute I was at home reading in bed and the next thing I knew I was waking up on board a helicopter with some crazy Russian woman.’
‘Oh don’t worry, we’re familiar with the crazy Russian woman,’ Otto laughed. ‘One piece of advice though: I wouldn’t call her that to her face.’
‘Not if you’re a fan of the whole not eating through a straw thing anyway,’ Shelby said, grinning.
‘I do not believe that Raven would ever assault a student without good reason,’ Wing said with a frown.
‘I know. I was just, you know, exaggerating, because . . . funny . . . never mind,’ Shelby said with a sigh. Otto tried very hard not to laugh.
‘Is it true that you don’t get to leave here until you’ve finished all six years?’ Lucy asked. ‘Have you guys really not been off the island since you arrived?’
‘Well, technically that’s true,’ Laura said, sitting down on the sofa opposite, ‘but we’ve had a couple of . . . erm . . . unofficial excursions in that time, and there’s the occasional training mission that’s taken us off the island. In fact there’s one in a couple of days, so you won’t have to wait too long before you see the outside world again. Admittedly it’s an Arctic survival course, so the outside world will mainly consist of endless fields of snow and ice, but, still, it’s a change of scene at least. Anyway, we always seem to end up back here, one way or another. Why, you’re not thinking about leaving us already, are you?’
‘No,’ Lucy replied quickly, looking slightly nervous, ‘it’s not that. It’s just that . . . well . . . doesn’t this place sometimes feel a bit like a prison?’ She looked at each of them in turn.
‘I suppose it did once,’ Otto replied, ‘but after a while it started to feel like home. Some of us don’t really have very much to go back to in the outside world. Besides which, this lot would be completely lost without me.’ Otto grinned.
‘Oh aye,’ Laura said, rolling her eyes. ‘I for one don’t know what I’d do without you putting all our lives in danger at least once every few months.’
‘Nothing worse than a nice quiet life with no one shooting at you,’ Shelby said, flopping down on the sofa next to Laura. ‘What would we do without bullet-magnet Malpense?’
‘Hey, that’s not fair,’ Otto said, sounding hurt. ‘Sometimes it’s knives, or even bombs.’
‘Sounds like you lot have had an interesting couple of years,’ Lucy said, looking worried.
‘Welcome to H.I.V.E.,’ Wing replied with only the hint of a smile.
.
Chapter Two
Dr Nero sat down at the conference table in his appointed seat and waited patiently as the dome in the centre of the table lit up with a soft white light. Suddenly, other figures materialised out of thin air, seated in the other chairs around the table, some already engaged in conversation. These new holographic telepresence meetings were one of the first innovations that Diabolus Darkdoom had introduced when he had taken command of G.L.O.V.E., the Global League of Villainous Enterprises. It made a certain amount of sense, Nero supposed, avoiding as it did all of the risks associated with assembling the ruling council in one location, but he still couldn’t help but feel that there was something missing. There had been a definite value to sitting in the same room as his fellow G.L.O.V.E. commanders, risky as it may have been. It was, after all, much harder to tell when a holographic projection was lying than when you were sat opposite that person in the same room and could see the beads of sweat forming on their forehead.
‘Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.’ The figure of Diabolus Darkdoom, the commander of G.L.O.V.E., materialised at the head of the table, immediately to Nero’s left. ‘I’m glad you were all able to attend this meeting at such short notice. A matter has arisen that requires urgent discussion. You will have noticed, no doubt, that there is an empty seat at the table today, and it is the fact that this seat is unoccupied that has forced me to call us all together.
‘Jason Drake has chosen to boycott this meeting for reasons that are not yet entirely clear. I’m well aware that he has expressed discontent with my leadership but it would seem that he has now decided that he no longer wishes to be part of our organisation. G.L.O.V.E. has never tolerated the existence of factions or splinter groups that may compete with our goals and I do not intend to make an exception here. What I need to know now is whether any of you are aware of Drake’s intentions. If he is working to establish his own organisation, then I must know now so that we can take appropriate measures.’
Diabolus looked around the table at each of the remaining council members, but no one appeared to be willing or able to give any further information. Nero found himself once again cursing the fact that the low resolution of the holographic projections around the table made it difficult, if not impossible, to see the tiny clues of expression or body language that might have revealed which of them knew more than they were prepared to say.
‘Very well,’ Diabolus said firmly. ‘If Drake is indeed planning to set up a new organisation, it may be that he will approach some of you for support. I’m sure I do not need to explain to any of you what the consequence would be if I were to find out that you were secretly conspiring with him.’
‘What makes you so sure he’s gone rogue?’ Carlos Chavez, chief of G.L.O.V.E.’s South American operations, asked.
‘I have, or should I say had, sources close to Drake,’ Darkdoom replied. ‘Those sources have fallen silent, but not before they informed me that some form of operation was being planned and that this organisation was the target.’
‘Do we know where he intends to strike?’ Madame Mortis asked.
‘No, we do not,’ Darkdoom replied. ‘So I suggest all of you increase your levels of security. Any activities that you have scheduled could be jeopardised, so you may want to delay or cancel them. I leave it to your discretion.’
‘He’s a public figure, the head of a multinational corporation,’ Baron Von Sturm said. ‘He can’t disappear for ever.’
‘Oh, I have no doubt he will resurface,’ Darkdoom said, ‘and when he does, Doctor Nero will be asking Raven to have a little chat with him, won’t you, Max?’
‘Of course.’ Nero nodded. He was pleased to see the slightly nervous expressions on the other faces at the table. Raven was his most trusted operative and also the world’s most feared assassin. Nobody at this meeting ever wanted to find themselves at the top of her to-do list.
‘Now, I’m certain that we all have other things we need to attend to, so I won’t keep you any longer. Needless to say, if any of you hears anything, I expect you to inform me immediately. Understood?’
The other heads of global villainy gathered around the table nodded.
‘Very good,’ Darkdoom said. ‘Do Unto Others.’
‘Do Unto Others,’ the members of the council said, repeating G.L.O.V.E.’s motto, and one by one the projected images of the council members around the table flickered and vanished, until only Nero and Darkdoom remained.
‘You realise how dangerous this could be, I assume?’ Nero asked calmly.
‘Of course I do,’ Darkdoom snapped before taking a deep breath and slumping back in his chair. ‘I’m sorry, this situation has rather caught me by surprise.’
‘You knew he was unhappy,’ Nero said. ‘We all did. There was always going to be those who were unhappy with your appointment as head of the council. Number One may have sought to betray us all, but it didn’t mean that everyone disagreed with the way he ran G.L.O.V.E. Drake wanted the seat that you’re sitting in for himself and he was never going to be content to just take orders from you. We all knew that.’
‘Maybe, but he was one of the most powerful members of the ruling council in terms of manpower and resources. To lose him now, when we’re still vulnerable . . .’
Nero understood what Darkdoom meant. It was not easy to satisfy the technological requirements of an organisation like G.L.O.V.E. without having existing legitimate production facilities that could be discreetly used to manufacture the equipment they needed. Jason Drake was the head of Drake Industries and had been responsible for developing much of the advanced technology that G.L.O.V.E. used on a daily basis. To lose access to the resources he had at his disposal had the potential to be catastrophic in itself, quite aside from any other plans Drake might have to cause harm to the organisation.
‘G.L.O.V.E. will endure, it always has,’ Nero said reassuringly. ‘We just have to make sure this situation doesn’t devolve into civil war. If I know Drake, his first course of action will be to try to recruit the remaining members of the council, or turn them against one another – assuming, of course, that he hasn’t already.’
‘You think that we may have traitors in our midst?’ Darkdoom asked, gesturing at the empty seats around the table.
‘No member of this council got where they are today by using honour and fair play, including us, so we shouldn’t be surprised if they are trying to work out how they might best profit from this situation. We just need to make sure we stay one step ahead of the game.’
Darkdoom nodded thoughtfully.
‘Thank you, Max. I can always rely on you to watch my back, at least.’
‘Trust is everything now,’ Nero replied, looking Darkdoom straight in the eye. ‘This is going to get worse before it gets better. That much at least we can be certain of. Drake wouldn’t have taken a step like this unless he had some reason to feel secure from G.L.O.V.E.’s wrath. Von Sturm was right: he’s too public a figure to just disappear. He knows he’ll have to come back up for air, but I fear that means that whatever he has planned is designed to remove us as a threat to him before he does.’
Darkdoom let out a long sigh and rubbed at his temples with both hands.
‘You know, in all my years in hiding I had forgotten what sitting at this table was like,’ he said, sounding tired. ‘Number One made it look easy.’
‘Number One was a psychopathic artificial intelligence,’ Nero said. ‘I don’t think there was very much to admire about him.’
‘Not always, Max,’ Darkdoom said. ‘He started out as human as you or me. We should not forget what he achieved before Overlord corrupted him. He founded this organisation and he kept it from imploding against all the odds for many years. I don’t think I’d really appreciated how difficult that must have been until now. Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn’t just have been easier to stay dead . . .’
‘Be careful what you wish for . . .’ Nero said with a crooked smile.
Darkdoom laughed and leant his head back against the headrest of his seat.
‘Actually, there was something else I wanted to discuss with you, which is vaguely connected to Drake. The Dreadnought has finished its shakedown mission and is ready for full deployment. I wondered if you’d like to come and take a tour.’
‘You and your toys,’ Nero said with mock exasperation. The fact of the matter was that the construction of the Dreadnought had been one of the final projects that Drake Industries had completed for G.L.O.V.E.
‘The Dreadnought isn’t a toy; it’s one of the most sophisticated vehicles ever built and a vital part of the future of this organisation.’
‘Of course it is,’ Nero said with a sigh, ‘besides which, I think we should meet face to face to discuss these recent developments in greater detail.’
‘Agreed,’ Darkdoom said, nodding.
‘Send me the Dreadnought’s coordinates and I’ll arrange transport.’
‘Excellent. I’ll see you soon.’
‘So one can see that quantum entanglement is a serious issue when it comes to devising effective teleportation techniques, but those very same problems could be usefully harnessed, in theory at least, in the development of effective disintegration technology. I’ll go into greater detail about this next week and by then I will expect you to have studied the first three chapters of Igor Kreuzmann’s seminal work on offensive beam weaponry, No, I Expect You To Die. Class dismissed.’
Professor Pike stepped down from the lectern at the front of the classroom and began to pack his papers into his battered old attaché case.
‘Thank God that’s over,’ Shelby sighed.
‘What are you talking about?’ Laura said, sounding genuinely surprised. ‘That was fascinating. If we could just figure out the quantile molecular reassembly algorithm . . . well, the sky’s the limit.’
‘I don’t know,’ Otto replied, sounding similarly enthused. ‘The Einsteinian constraints are so specific in such cases that . . .’
‘And so it begins,’ Wing said to Shelby and Lucy.
‘They’ll just rattle on at each other like that for another half hour now,’ Shelby groaned as Otto and Laura continued to chatter away. ‘They should just figure out a way to directly connect their brains to each other. At least that way none of the rest of us would have to listen to them.’
‘I would be careful suggesting such a thing,’ Wing said. ‘They might just do it.’
‘So how did you find your first day?’ Shelby asked Lucy as the students began to slowly file out of the classroom and into the corridor.
‘I feel like I’m a bit out of my depth, to be honest,’ Lucy replied with a small sigh. ‘It’s a lot to take in at once. I just feel like I’ve got so much catching up to do.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Shelby said, smiling, ‘that feeling only lasts –’
‘A couple of years and counting,’ Wing interrupted.
‘Just ignore tall, dark and grumpy here,’ Shelby said, putting her arm around Lucy’s shoulders. ‘The fact of the matter is that within a couple of weeks all of this will seem quite normal. That’s when you know you’ve really got a problem. But I’ve found a solution, something that can make all of the weirdness worth putting up with, something I call . . . senior boys’ water polo practice. Every Wednesday night – bring refreshments.’
‘Sounds good,’ Lucy said with a smile.
‘Oh it is,’ Shelby replied. ‘I like to think of it as a kind of art form, just with, you know, more rippling wet torsos.’
‘Now you’re making me feel dirty for attending,’ Laura said, having finished her brief quantum dynamics discussion with Otto. ‘All I really care about is that H.I.V.E.’s way more interesting than a normal school,’ Laura said, ‘if a little weirder.’
‘I think the Stealth and Evasion lesson was the strangest,’ Lucy said. ‘Not so much the lesson as the teacher actually. I mean . . . Ms Leon. She’s . . . well . . .’
‘A cat?’ Otto offered with a cheery smile.
‘Yeah . . . yeah, that’s really the only way of putting it,’ Lucy said, sounding slightly bewildered.
‘Don’t worry, you get used to it,’ Shelby said. ‘Besides, it’s only when the giant mutated flesh-eating plants and android ninjas are around that things really get weird.’
Lucy started to laugh but stopped when she saw the expression on the other students�
�� faces.
‘That was a joke, right?’ Lucy asked.
‘Anyway,’ Otto said, breaking into the awkward silence, ‘me and Wing have got to go. We’ve got that thing . . . you know in the library.’
‘Oh, yes!’ Wing said quickly. ‘The thing . . . yes. We must go and do that thing now.’
‘Catch you guys later,’ Otto said as he and Wing headed off down another corridor.
‘What thing?’ Laura asked Shelby as the two boys hurried away.
‘I dunno,’ Shelby said with a knowing smile, ‘but it would be a really unfair invasion of their privacy to follow them.’
‘Just what I was thinking,’ Laura said and the two of them set off after the boys. After a couple of paces they both stopped and turned around.
‘You coming?’ Shelby asked Lucy, who was standing in the middle of the corridor, looking a bit confused. Lucy gave a small nod and hurried after them.
‘I am not liking the sound of this,’ Franz said, looking over Nigel’s shoulder at the monitor on the desk. He flopped down on his bed in their shared room with an explosive sigh.
‘Yeah,’ Nigel said, pushing his glasses back up on to the bridge of his nose. ‘I’m trying to work out what’s worse, the Arctic survival course or the fact that our group’s going to be supervised by Raven.’
They had known that the course was coming for weeks and while some of the Alphas, like Wing and Shelby, actually seemed to be looking forward to it, most of the stream were viewing it with a mixture of apprehension and fear. Those feelings were not helped by the fact that the older Alpha students referred to this particular part of H.I.V.E.’s curriculum as ‘the ninety-three percenter’ because that was the proportion of students who returned alive.
‘I am being extremely sensitive to cold,’ Franz said. ‘I have already tried to explain this to Colonel Francisco but he did not seem to care.’
Nigel recalled that particular conversation. It had ended with Colonel Francisco, their Tactical instructor, telling Franz that he had to go on the course just in case something went wrong and the food ran out. The Colonel had then gone on to explain to the rest of the class that they could, in theory, ‘live off Franz for a week’. Nigel was fairly sure it had been a joke.
