Martin Greenberg - If I Were an Evil Overlord

Striding to the window, he glared out at the distant rooftops of their home barely visible in the failing light.

“Dante Corsini’s behind it,” Drey said to his back. “All three of the men I marked ultimately work for him.”

“Yes, I know that. Be quiet a moment.” Luca took a deep breath to calm himself. “There’s an object lesson in this,” he said finally. “A lesson about the nature of power and security; whether there’s greater security in keeping your power hidden or in being so openly powerful that none would dare defy you for fear of the most terrible retaliation. Riamo is an example of the former, Cerchicava of the latter.”

He turned, his eyes a dark, blood red. “You will set a binding spell on your brother at once. He’s your responsibility now. Anything happens to him, anything at all, and I’ll lay you out on my table. I’ll not have the two of you destroying everything I’ve spent a lifetime building.”

Drey nodded silently.

“And I,” Luca continued, “will deal with our incautious long-distance trader.”

Dante Corsini disappeared from his bed before dawn the next day. His body was found in Pisario a week later, stripped naked, the marks of a savage beating standing out across his face and ribs, his belly slashed open, and the organs within desecrated by the obvious signs of a necromantic collection.

The entire city of Riamo collapsed in hysterics; Eugene Gagio fled to Rocasta and the bishop declared a state of religious emergency as the citizens overwhelmed the priesthood, demanding that they strengthen the protective wards on their families’ crypts and mausoleums that had been allowed to fall into disrepair from years of complacent neglect. When many of the bodies interred within were discovered to have been defiled already, the city erupted in violence. First Minister Poggeso summoned the Watch, but it was a week before order was restored.

Standing by Vallenza’s plaque, Luca observed that at least the feeling of contemptuous impatience had been replaced by a stirring of curious excitement he hadn’t experienced in years. It felt both powerful and refreshing after all this time.

He turned to the two young men standing behind him, matching sparks of crimson fire lighting up their eyes. “Dante said it was time you both began making decisions as men,” he said, “so, here’s your chance. Alesandro, you will open up trade negotiations with Vincent Corsini that strongly favor the Albergo family. Make it plain to him that he would do well to accept your business terms or he’ll find himself sharing his father’s fate. Be as obvious or as subtle as you wish. The days of hiding are over.

“You,” he turned a jaundiced gaze on Drey. “Will find your way past the wards on the ducal mausoleum and obtain components from Johanni Gagio’s body and any others you find within. You will accomplish this within the week or you will answer to Piero for it.”

Turning, he caught sight of the manservant waiting for him at the cemetery gates, his expression one of barely concealed disapproval.

“I’ll give you both just two pieces of advice,” Luca continued. “One: listen to your lieutenants, especially when they tell you that you can’t trust your own sons.”

He turned to go, and Drey made an inquisitive noise.

“What?”

“The second piece of advice, father?”

“Never have sons in the first place.”

Turning, the premier Death Mage of Riamo took his leave, already planning the next step in his conquest of the city.

Clint Hardaway hit the reply button before he had even finished scanning the IM from his college buddy Jason.

“Thought I might try UO.”

“Ultimate Overlord? LOL. Man, you do have time on your hands. I try to limit myself to two hours a night. Let me know when you’re in universe. Lots of nasties to kill. Just be sure to save some for me.”

“We’ll see,” typed Clint. “TTFN.” He clicked off the IM box without waiting for a reply, and clicked the link for Ultimate Overlord. Acknowledging Conditions of Use that he didn’t bother to read, he filled out some forms, entered the number of his platinum Amex card and got ready to play. He clicked by the credits and went to the opening screen.

“Can you become the ULTIMATE OVERLORD? The path is unclear, the rules unknown. There is no luck but the luck you make, no rewards but the rewards you earn. Everyone starts equal, but some prove themselves superior by their actions. The ultimate challenge awaits you in a universe beyond your imagining. Click here to begin your journey.”

A bit hokey, to be sure, but Clint liked the approach. No tutorial of how to play and what to do. No long lists of things to do, puzzles to solve, or rules to memorize. You learned as you experienced the game, just like in life.

Of course, he knew that there were rules. Every universe has rules.

From overarching principles of cosmic import to minor fads of fashion, there were always rules that you must learn to survive, that you must master and bend to get ahead. He liked that the site said nothing about what those rules were. That would be too easy. More challenging, more interesting, to figure them out for yourself. By trial and error, by deductive reasoning, by publication, by rumor, and by stealth, you must discern cause and effect, the algorithms, formulae, and step-functions that determine success and failure, fame and fortune, life and death.

That’s life, a random search for Easter eggs of hidden knowledge in a stark and unforgiving landscape.

Clint lived, had always lived, to parse out the rules and bend them to his own advantage. There was, he knew, no other way to become the Ultimate Overlord.

Even before he clicked to start the scenario, however, he made some decisions about the rules that would govern his character.

Rule No. 1. The Ultimate Overlord Is Evil.The first rule was the simplest to intuit. There’s no way to become the ruler of the universe without being evil. Those who believe in goodness believe in all sorts of other warm, fuzzy, touchy-feely concepts, like kindness and consensus and democratic values and giving to those too poor to fend for themselves. This universe, he deduced, would not tolerate such suckers. No one wields ultimate power by committee; no one gains all by being nice. No one gets ahead by giving away what they have to others, whether goods or knowledge.

Besides, the good don’t want to rule the world. They want the world to rule the world. They don’t crave power. They crave happiness, but not for themselves. For others. For everyone. As if a limited supply of happiness could stretch so thin. As if happiness could exist if suffering did not exist for contrast.

In a world of limited resources and complex rules regarding their distribution, collection, and expenditure, knowledge, he knew, was power. He chuckled lightly to himself as he remembered his clueless high school chemistry teacher writing that in his yearbook: “Knowledge Is Power.” And even then, he had known the corollary: “Power Corrupts. Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely.” So, if you were ultimately going to be corrupted anyway, why not start out that way? It eased the path.

And let’s be clear what is meant by evil. Selfish, underhanded, maniacal depravity with the sole focus of gathering power for greater and greater selfish, underhanded, maniacal depravity.

People always undersold evil. Your boss, whoever he may be, is not evil. Evil does not golf. It does not listen to management books on tape in traffic. It does not hatch diabolical plots to get a reserved parking space or rush to grab the cream-filled doughnut at a staff meeting in a conference room with comfy, adjustable chairs. It does not offer vacation time, sick days, 401(k) plans, or health insurance, no matter how crappy. It does not obsess about its receding hairline. It does not count paper clips or goof off at the water cooler.