Inside the farmhouse Ishtar extinguished the last flickering candle. All soon lay still. Outside the farmhouse, crouched below a window, a silent sinister figure gathered itself and slid off in shadows. This dark figure had been listening secretly all evening to the conversation within. It was the excruciatingly alien and perverse villain known to the galactic civilisation as the Incompetent Evil Genius. To the innocent on-looker the Incompetent Evil Genius resembled nothing so much as a Teddy bear except for the long protruberish snout sticking out about eighteen inches in front of his eyes. He could be distinguished from other such creatures with whom he might be confused - perhaps a passing anteater - by the red third-eye spot on his forehead. Just now, however, he wore a sheep-dog's clothing, disguising himself as a shaggy dog.

Of the Incompetent Evil Genius' birth nothing is known, but he was raised, along with a brood of ducklings, on the planet Zelda, by a kindly mother duck.

The IEG landed in the Sahara in the winter of the year zero. He hitched a lift from a passing caravan. As luck would have it he arrived right in the middle of the Moroccan gi'me grub plague. "No kif. No high time anywhere," the camel drivers explained. "What luck," thought the Incompetent Evil Genius. "They need a hero, and I am here."

The new gargantuan Marrakech American Express is situated in the Djam el Fna, formerly Marrakech’s main square, which it incorporated and replaces. Downstairs, in the main men's rooms, over the door of the corner cubicle, the red "engaged" light burnt continually as the Incompetent Evil Genius tunnelled out his hide-away flushing the excavations down the john to join the city's excrement. Smuggling in in his cello case his robot helpers, He hollowed out a base of operations quite as grand as the colossus of commerce it sat beneath. Having completed the construction of his base, the Incompetent Evil Genius turned his attention to researching the Deofilus/Nirvanaleaf conundrum. His experiments quickly yielded results. He discovered that if you fed Deofilus larvae on a mixture of poppy latex and powdered coca leaf extract, they blow their grubby little minds in an extremely dependent fashion. Moreover, and more to the point, if just before pupation you switch them onto a diet of smack, when they pupated they remain as crysalli indefinitely, not bothering to metamorphose more.

"That should do it," thought the Incompetent Evil Genius, and he set about recruiting a legion of pusher grubs to go out and seduce their brethren to his cure.

The above may seem to us an unlikely way to set about conquering the world, but who are we to judge genius? Is it any more unlikely then quantum physics or the light bulb? A small pull on the right lever can level an empire. The Incompetent Evil Genius reckoned that if He solved each problem as he met it, and the gi'me grub problem was the first he met, he would generate such popular awe and gratitude that he would be inexorably swept to power. He might have to speed the process along with a few other tricks - he contemplated turning back the tides by removing the moon - or he might turn November into June by realigning the earth's axis. He had many strings to his bow. Soon enough the people of the world would seek him out and beg him to look after all their problems. Of course there might be some resistance from the Present (to be replaced) Power Structure (P(tbr)PS). The Incompetent Evil Genius wasted no time in study of the Apparent Governments. He delved straight for the hidden dragons.

The IEG dug into the infrastructure of the P(tbr)PS by telephone. He sent his electrical spiders and mechanical bugs beetling along the wires. Plugged into the world's communications network through the switchboard at the Marrakech Express Office, he delved for taps and tapped into realms of secret services, looking for the esoteric channels, unlisted numbers, unauthorised computer space. It wasn't long before he found the Company's computer.

Through the Computer’s secret channels the Incompetent Evil Genius discovered the Berber and of the Berber's Circus. He learned of the Berber's paranoia about the Lodge and of his suspicion of gypsy, Kali.

The IEG couldn't deal with all this directly at the moment. He was too busy with his Deofilus schemes. So he built the robot Carlo: a two bird stone, for Carlo kept track of Kali (and the Lodge) and the Berber. As far as Berber knew Carlo was a Company robot. It was the easiest thing for the Incompetent Evil Genius to feed Sy.id false information through the Company’s computer. It was really no contest. But, when Carlo met Kali, Carlo went rogue. A revolt of machines! Very disquieting to the Genius, and in need of research..

So the Incompetent Evil Genius, disguised as a shaggy dog, was following the Circus to check up on Carlo, the rogue robot. And this worked out just fine. He wanted, in any event, to be up in the Rif in order to pursue his major work, his pusher grub recruitment program. He was out in the field doing just that when he spied a Company helicopter coming in to land, and it was this event that brought Chris Pashanski to his attention. He debriefed and re-routed the two Company agents sent to spy on Chris (he sent them to Colorado for re-programming), and he himself set out after their quarry.

And what of Syed? When minutes after being monitored by the wayside cur, the Berber saw the helicopter breast the hill, he had of course known, known and been pleased with the Company's efficiency. But he didn't like anybody, not even his own minions, watching him. So he stole from the eucalyptus grove to re-route the Company agents, to send them back to Denver for reprogramming. He was surprised and worried when he found nobody there.

Words, themes, devises repeat like echoes running through each other. So moves the world, the mind, and our story.