Zak Araz, alias Kazzaar, lay on the bed in his cell and immersed himself deep in thought. He was near to his goal now. He didn’t want to be thwarted again. He needed time to think, take stock, and recap on how he’d managed to get this far.
He closed his eyes and visualised a great white bird flying across the night skies before landing in the trees that stood in the nearby park. That event was three years back, and since then he’d had a lot of time to understand and acclimatise to this alien planet. Now, he was close to completing his master plan. Soon he would be home and in a position to execute the final blow. Then, Earth would become the new Zaarl and his people would be saved.
Kazzaar thought about how he had managed to get himself into such a powerful position again following his unexpected defeat by the girl Zoe. He lay back on the hard thin mattress, his arm crooked behind his head, held fast by the handcuffs that secured him to the bed frame. Several ropes criss-crossed his body, tied tightly and anchored to the metal base beneath the bed. It was uncomfortable but he knew that he could easily get out of this situation by transmuting into any number of tiny creatures. He decided that he would do that later, but for now he needed to rest. Kazzaar glanced swiftly around his prison cell, before shifting his internal organs slightly to ease his discomfort. He closed his eyes again and let pictures of his adventures of the past three years drift through his head as if they were only just happening now.
* * * *
After his spaceship had imploded and he’d taken to the wing, Kazzaar – in his guise as a great white bird – had sighted the park as a potential resting and hiding place, and so he’d headed towards the shelter of the trees there. The deserted streets below him on his flight created a chiaroscuro effect as the brilliance of the full moon and the flickering street lamps coalesced with dark shadows generated by buildings and unlit alleyways, but Kazzaar was in no mood for aesthetic appreciation. He’d just lost a battle for children’s souls with these Earth people. He’d lost his spacecraft too and now he was stuck on this unfamiliar and unfriendly planet.
He needed time to think. He needed time to discover everything about this new world and get accustomed to it, and he needed time to find a way back to his homeland. And if he could do so complete with his collection of human souls, then so much the better.
Expertly gliding down onto a branch on one of the trees, Kazzaar paused to survey his surroundings. It was now late at night and he’d seen few people about on his short journey. However the ones he had seen had pointed excitedly at him if they happened to look upward, so he guessed that in his current guise he might be at risk of drawing attention to himself.
Maybe it hadn’t been such a brilliant idea after all to turn himself into a big white bird. He tried to think of what he’d read about birds and their habitats when he had carried out research for his tests to ascertain the suitability of creatures to provide a supply of ZzP2.
Kazzaar couldn’t focus his mind properly. He was tired and confused. He decided to stay in his bird mode for now and rest up in the treetops. He could sleep safely there as he remembered that not many creatures inhabited the upper branches of trees in England, and of those that did, none would represent a threat to him.
The following morning, equipped with a clarity of knowledge about the habits of the different species that lived on this planet – brought about by a rejuvenated memory fuelled by sleep – and with a firm plan in his mind that would enable him to go home, hopefully with his precious cargo, Kazzaar descended like a snowy phantom from the branch he’d occupied overnight and alighted on the grass below.
Almost immediately, he was pounced on by a black and white cat that had been creeping silently through the undergrowth as it sought new territories to explore and claim. It could have been a particularly nasty moment for Kazzaar – potentially fatal. But his mind was now awake and alert and that meant he was aware of danger and how to avoid it. As the cat’s paws closed around him, Kazzaar swiftly changed from a bird and into a large dog. In the blink of an eye, he inflicted a severe bite wound to the feline’s body. The cat meowed loudly, its alarm apparent to anyone who might have been watching, and then turned tail and fled with blood oozing from the gaping hole in its side.
Kazzaar felt an inner sense of triumph. It might be a small victory, but small victories were important in his bid to survive in this foreign environment. He was also quite pleased that he’d chosen to be a creature that was obviously superior and stronger than the one he’d sent packing.
Pleased though he was, Kazzaar decided that life would be less complicated if he became a human being. There were too many creatures living on this planet and he couldn’t be sure he’d always get the right one to fight off any potential predator. Human beings were clearly the main life form and as they seemed to have fewer natural enemies, he believed he would be better off if he took on the human form.
So it was that some ten minutes later, a tall man dressed in casual clothes walked from the park and headed towards the town. Once there, he found his way to the local library and sat down at one of the computers. Well hidden from the prying eyes of the few people who were browsing through the displays of books, Kazzaar began his life as a human being by logging on to the internet.
He was alone in the computer section. The other computers remained unused for now. It was too early for students, and the unemployed and the silver surfers were still about their daily business. They would appear later as they played their own part in the computer revolution.
This situation suited Kazzaar perfectly. He didn’t want spectators for what he was about to do. Glancing quickly about him to ensure he was unobserved, Kazzaar took hold of the headphone set attached to his computer. He opened up one of the earpieces and making a small adjustment to the internal wiring that allowed a tiny piece of wire to remain outside of the main shell of the earpiece once he’d closed it up again, he inserted the protruding wire piece into the skin behind his right ear.
When he then put the headphones on, it appeared, to anyone watching, that he was listening to music or commentary. No one would have suspected that he was actually downloading the entire content of the internet directly into his brain.
Kazzaar couldn’t resist a little smile of self-congratulation as the World Wide Web flooded into his head. He thought this was the easiest way to find out everything he could about the planet that was to be his home for a while yet. Back on Zaarl, the technology may be far superior and advanced, but when you are stuck on a planet that is primitive in comparison, you have to make do with what is available – and this was a much quicker way of obtaining knowledge than reading books or watching films.
Kazzaar quickly absorbed all of the information that flowed into him. His brain was sophisticated and analytical, and far in advance of the human brain. The only problem he had was how to store the huge amount of data he’d consumed in something as small as the human head he had taken as his own. However, a little shape changing and reorganisation of his own internal organs, hidden inside his human form, soon resolved the matter. Now all he had to do was to make his plans and bide his time.
It didn’t take long for the plan to be formed. There were six parts to his strategy and Kazzaar, who had by now decided to rearrange the letters of his name to become Zak Araz, quickly set about putting part one into action. He settled on Araz as a second name because there were other people around with that name and it would offer him some degree of anonymity. He’d toyed with alternatives, discarding Zara as being too unusual and likely to draw attention, while Zak Azar sounded too much like Kazzaar.
When he’d been flying towards the park in his white bird disguise, he’d noticed a factory close by. In fact, the building overlooked the park. It housed an electronics and computer games company. Equipped with his newfound knowledge and his technological expertise, as well as his experiences from his life on Zaarl, Zak Araz presented himself to the factory owner as a computer games technician and inventor. He said he’d been living and working abroad, but had been forced to flee the country he was living in due to civil unrest and uprising. Claiming to have left all of his qualifications, belongings, identification and other official documentation behind in his haste to get away, Araz said he was seeking asylum in England and was in the process of applying for a British passport and British citizenship too.
Joseph McConnell, the man who owned the electronics company, which was a long established family business, was highly impressed by Zak Araz’s technical knowledge in respect of electronics and computers. He was also sympathetic to his plight. For his part, Zak had given Mr McConnell just enough information about an idea he had for a new computer game in order to whet his appetite. The man’s eyes had lit up at the prospect of how this revolutionary phenomenon could sweep all before it, captivating the entire world and bringing in huge profits. Perhaps enough to allow him the luxury of fulfilling his greatest desire and selling the business so he could retire to sunnier climes, where he and his family could enjoy a less stressful lifestyle. Mr McConnell immediately offered Kazzaar a job as a casual consultant and technical advisor.
“Welcome to the firm,” he smiled, holding out his hand. “By the way, what did you say your name was?”
“Araz,” said Kazzaar, grasping the proffered hand and shaking on the deal, “Zak Araz.” So far so good, the first part of his plan was up and running. Now it was time for the second part.
While soaring above Cristelee in his avian guise, Kazzaar had also noticed the safari park. He now knew all about the animals that lived there from the information he’d gleaned in his session on the internet.
That night, in the carefully selected shape of an owl, Kazzaar visited the safari park, where he quickly located the creatures he’d identified to play a key role in his overall plan. For the next few nights, the monkey troop living in the woodland area had the company of a tawny owl that watched them carefully and silently as they went about their nocturnal business.
Eventually, Kazzaar decided it was time to act. Flying down into the middle of the group of monkeys, the owl settled on the grass, which was wet from the evening dew. Initially the monkeys stared at the interloper in curiosity, but then one of them let out a scream and leapt towards the feathered creature as a cat might pounce on a mouse. But instead of the owl shrieking in terror and trying to fly away from its attacker, it was the monkey that turned tail and ran as a very large ape now stood upright in the place where the bird had been.
The other monkeys cowered in a mix of surprise and terror as they kept their distance from this unfamiliar beast that had magically gatecrashed their congregation and disrupted their cosy existence.
Kazzaar repeated this performance regularly over the next few weeks and with each appearance the monkeys got more accustomed to him being in their midst. He now had the monkeys where he wanted them. There was just one final thing he had to do before he could take over the troop. He had to fight the current leader.
Kazzaar had identified one of the larger monkeys as the probable leader of the group after observing how the other primates seemed to treat him with respect and deference. This monkey had been a little in awe of Kazzaar in his big ape image, but as the nights passed had got bolder to the point where it now felt brave enough to challenge what it saw as a pretender to its monkey crown.
On the night Kazzaar became leader of the monkey pack, the existing leader took the initiative. Scarcely had Kazzaar completed his metamorphosis into ape form than the monkey king was upon him, biting, scratching and raining blows down on his head with furry fists – all the time snarling and baring vicious fangs and teeth.
Kazzaar stood his ground. As the ape, he was stronger than the monkey and could easily have smashed the leader into oblivion. However, even though that would have made him king of the troop, it would also have opened up the way for some other brave monkey to issue a fighting challenge to him, and he didn’t want to spend his limited time with the troop in forever having to watch his back and fight off potential challengers.
It wasn’t that he was worried about losing his crown but time was precious to his plan, and constantly engaging in battles with other monkeys was time-consuming as well as irritating. Besides, Kazzaar didn’t plan to be here every night, and with his work he couldn’t be here during the day, so he needed to show these primitive creatures a trick or two that would make them so scared of him that they would never challenge his authority. He needed them to treat him as their leader and do his bidding even though he appeared in their enclosure only occasionally.
Kazzaar waited for his attacker to back off before he made his move. Then, as the monkey prepared for a second charge, Kazzaar transformed into a lion. The monkey stopped dead in its tracks and began to retreat. Kazzaar let out a mighty roar and swiftly changed to become a tiger. Another loud roar followed, quickly superseded by the trumpeting of an elephant as a huge grey beast lumbered around the enclosure, throwing back its trunk and bellowing into the night sky.
The monkeys were rooted to the spot as Kazzaar wasted no time in transition to his next beastly form and an enormous silverback gorilla stood before the group, beating its chest in a rapid tattoo as it bared huge yellow teeth in a face that was contorted into a fierce, unfriendly snarl.
Finally, he returned to his original shape as the large ape, by which time the leader’s challenge had ended with the deposed king running off into the darkness and safety of the wooded copse. The rest of the monkeys bowed, and scraped at the ground beneath them as they worshipped their new leader – their lord and master, Kazzaar – who smiled inwardly at the completion of the second part of his plan.
*
Eighteen months later, Kazzaar was still working for Mr McConnell. He was impatient to put part three of his plan into action, but had so far been thwarted. He’d hoped by now that he would have accumulated enough of what Earth people called money to have succeeded in his next quest. Yet despite sales of Kazzaar’s newly conceived computer game bringing in lots of money for Mr McConnell, Kazzaar hadn’t seen much of it because he had no patented rights on the product. He was still a casual employee and while he got the occasional bonus on top of his wages, it was never going to be enough to make him rich.
Not only was Kazzaar concerned that his efforts hadn’t produced the rewards he hoped for to carry out the rest of his plan, he was worried that Mr McConnell might retire before he got close to doing so.
Kazzaar needed an emergency strategy to help him. So, one night while walking home to the small flat that he rented, he paused outside one of the big bank buildings he passed on the way. Standing silently in the shadows, he waited for a while until he was sure that no one else was around. Then, in the time it takes to blink, he executed a transformation into a tiny snake.
The snake slithered up the steps to the front entrance of the bank, flattening itself to crawl into the small space below the heavy wooden door. Once inside, the snake negotiated its way around the skirting boards at the base of the interior walls, avoiding the roaming eye of the security cameras. The reptile crossed the reception area until it reached the cashier’s counter, where it once again eased through the gap beneath the door. The snake continued its journey, getting under two more doors and overcoming a couple of unforeseen obstacles in the shape of a filing cabinet and a secured room with no obvious way of entry, until it located the tiniest space imaginable where the key code panel was missing one of its holding screws. Quickly changing from snake to spider, Kazzaar entered the room before returning once again to reptilian form.
He had chosen the snake carefully, not only as a means of getting into the bank, but also because they are cold-blooded creatures and he guessed that any sensors in the bank alarm system would only be programmed to pick up images of warm-blooded intruders – namely humans. Additionally, any CCTV cameras would be unlikely to focus on a tiny snake that was sticking to the shadows at the edge of each room.
Once inside the room, it didn’t take long for Kazzaar to take on human form and swiftly neutralise the alarm and CCTV systems before they could either sense or identify his presence. Finding his way into the main office area, he switched on one of the many computers and using his technical know-how, bypassed the need for a password. Logging on, he turned back the time clock on the screen until it showed normal working hours. Then, expertly hacking into the bank accounts, he altered the figures slightly on each account.
A few minutes later, after siphoning a small amount from each of several large accounts – which he transferred into a suspense account before adding a portion of the banks reserves – he finally opened an account in the name of Zak Araz and deposited the money into that, expertly closing and deleting all trace of the suspense account that he’d temporarily created.
Before shutting down the computer, Kazzaar constructed a history of deposits on this final account. He hoped that his extra piece of craftwork, of fabricating diversions by opening and closing a number of other suspense and named accounts at the same time, would mean that his handiwork would go undetected. At the very least, it would cause unfathomable confusion should someone accidentally stumble upon his piece of extremely creative accountancy.
Changing back into the snake as soon as he had reconnected the security systems, Kazzaar was quickly out of the bank and soon standing on the pavement as Zak Araz. No one else was in sight as he walked quickly back to his apartment, permitting himself a self-satisfied smile as he considered the success of his evening’s work.
Over the next six months, Zak visited several more banks and building societies where he repeated his actions from the first bank. He almost got caught on two occasions, once when he encountered a bank employee who was working late, although Zak still managed to complete his computerised financial transactions after taking on the form of the bank’s chief executive officer – whose portrait hung conveniently on the office wall – and telling his ‘employee’ that he did not wish to be disturbed. Zak cursed himself afterwards for failing to act with caution once he’d found the bank alarm system wasn’t activated.
He waited for a couple of months after this near discovery before his next attempt, to make sure there was no comeback from his error, and when nothing appeared in the local media, he decided to continue. That was when he was almost discovered for the second time.
This time, a security guard from the hire company used to check the bank premises at night arrived just as Zak was leaving. However, a swift transfer in the shadowy hallway saw Zak emerge in full security uniform and engage the genuine guard in a conversation about the lack of communication from their employer, resulting in two guards being sent to the same place at the same time.
By now, Zak had enough money for the fourth part of his plan, but what he needed more than anything was some official documentation to show that Zak Araz did exist. He knew about birth certificates but was equally aware that he’d never be able to get hold of one. Perhaps if he had time he could forge a certificate, yet what would be the point? Zak decided that what he really needed was a document that humans called a passport. This could be used for a variety of things and would validate his identity, as well as confirming his status as a British citizen and a human being.
Zak remembered reading on the internet about people who traded fake passports so he asked some of his work colleagues if they knew of any local criminals who might get him something that had ‘fallen off the back of a lorry’. He was given a place to go and also a name to ask for by one colleague. Zak soon located the named man, who was known as Benny, and set up an arrangement to get a passport for which Zak would pay an agreed price once the document was safely in his hands.
Benny was the front man for a local villain who ran a fake passport business among his many illegal businesses. He acted as a go-between, delivering the passports and handing the cash over to the villain once he’d collected it. Zak had no intention of paying these Earthlings for something that was clearly illicitly come by anyway, so he transmuted into a cat and followed Benny to the forger’s place of business, where he watched from beneath a table as they set up the deal for Benny to collect the cash on delivery.
A few days later, in the guise of Benny, Zak collected his own passport for free and disappeared into the night. Next day, Benny was found unconscious in an alleyway where he’d been badly beaten up. Zak Araz shed no tears for him. “Serves him right for trying to get money from me,” was his muttered comment when he read the news.
With his passport tucked safely in his pocket, Zak went about the next part of his plan. He visited all of the banks and building societies where he’d opened accounts and withdrew every penny of his funds, before going off to his work where he went to see Mr McConnell in his office.
“There’s twenty million pounds in that bag,” Zak said, tossing a canvas shoulder bag onto the desk. “I want to buy your electronics company.”
Mr McConnell needed little persuading as he’d been eagerly awaiting his retirement. If truth be told he’d hoped to sell for a much larger sum. However, the sight of that amount of money being spread out in front of him swiftly convinced him to sell his factory right there and then.
So it was that Zak Araz, alias Kazzaar from the planet Zaarl, became the new owner of McConnell’s Electronic Games Empire, and promptly changed its name to the Lazar Virtual Reality Computer Games Company. It was now time to move on to the next part of his plan.
In the meantime, Kazzaar had continued his regular visits to the monkey compound where he’d spent time teaching tricks to the monkeys. But these weren’t ordinary tricks; they were more like human skills. He showed them how to build, how to attach and connect pieces of material together so that whatever they built didn’t fall down. He taught them how to use simple tools, such as screwdrivers, spanners and hammers, and on every visit he got inside their heads, brainwashing and hypnotising them into his ways of thinking. He worked hard on getting this right. It was very important that he did so, as the monkey’s skills and total obedience were essential to part five of his plan, although he’d had a scary moment when his secret had almost been discovered by Bob Waterhouse.
Changing into a lion and chasing Bob had helped to keep him away from the monkey compound, but it had almost proved fatal when he was shot at by the park rangers. Luckily he’d had the foresight to quickly change into a buzzard and soar upward, thus avoiding the tranquiliser darts.
Once in charge of the factory, Kazzaar started manufacturing the ‘Being There’ computer game. Very soon, it took over the entire production line. By distributing a copy to every household in Cristelee, and encouraging every family member to play, he felt that the fifth leg of his master plan was shaping up nicely. As a further insurance, Kazzaar also sent free copies to schools, libraries, workplaces, shops and offices.
He knew that not all people would play the game, but hoped that the ones that didn’t would be in the minority. It was important that as many people as possible did play because the game induced a hypnotic state to whoever played it. As a result, Kazzaar was able to control the humans telepathically by attuning a part of his mind with theirs. He could then commandeer their thoughts and manipulate their behaviour. But for most of the time, people under his influence wandered about in a mental state that could at best be described as placid obscurity until he had need of their help. To Kazzaar’s great satisfaction and amusement, the humans were totally unaware of his power over them and of his cerebral command.
Everything was now in place. The monkeys had built his machine in the clearing and it was working wonderfully, with the aid of the generator that he’d bought from a retiring farmer and modified by using his infinite knowledge gleaned on Zaarl, to utilise all available power sources that still existed within the copse and the force field.
The town was now cut off from the rest of the country and the World by Kazzaar’s force field, and a combination of hypnosis and prudently placed perception filters had prevented anyone from realising it was cut off. Even the few carefully prepared and strategically laid out diversion signs that Kazzaar had placed on major roads and rail links had played their part in convincing travellers that all was as it should be and Cristelee was open for business and fully functional.
Inside the force field, time was galloping backwards at a fair rate. Within the next few days, the sixth and final part of Kazzaar’s plan would come to fruition – resulting in him being able to return to his own celestial home. And if he was very lucky in his timing, he might even be able to take the children’s souls with him.
After spending three years on this haphazard, chaotic and uncaring planet, his nightmare would soon be over. When he returned here with his people, ready to colonise the Earth and farm its inhabitants, he would do so gladly. He would then feel satisfied that he’d taken his revenge on these beings, whom he’d grown to despise for their throwaway attitude to life; for the way they neglected the old, poor and needy of their species, and for their unashamed pursuance of material things. He hated them too for their aggression, their futile illogical wars, their greed, their ignorance and the base apathy and lack of concern shown to their own kind as they selfishly and openly worshipped the great god of Mammon. Kazzaar could hardly wait to bring his people here and change this primitive little planet for the better.
* * * *
Kazzaar sighed and opened his eyes. He was still handcuffed and imprisoned in his cell, but his nocturnal mental recollections of how he had managed to not only survive but triumph in this alien world had buoyed his spirits. He decided that he would sleep now for a while, and then in the early light of dawn, he’d decide what small creature to mutate into. He would then become that creature so he could escape from his prison and go to the safari park, where he would be ready to retrieve his spacecraft and put the final part of his plan into action. Kazzaar shifted his internal organs again for more comfort and closed his eyes in preparation for sleep. On his face, he wore the smug smile of self-satisfaction of a man who knew all of his plans had finally come to fruition.