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| | BITNET Fantasy-Science Fiction Fanzine
___|___________|___ X-Edited by 'Orny' Liscomb <NMCS025@MAINE>
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CONTENTS
Editorial Orny
Narret Chronicles 7 Mari A. Paulson
Dream Weaver - Conclusion Michael Murphy
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Editorial
Hello, again! Well, after all the requests to get the next issue out this
week, I guess I really ought to. This will be the last issue of Volume 1;
Volume 2 will begin June 1. A reminder for those of you whose accounts will
be purged this month: PLEASE send a mail file notifying me of this fact. And
good luck on your finals, everybody!!! ;^)
It recently has come to my attention that FSFNET is available from servers
all over the globe, namely CANSERVE@CANADA01, SERVER@TAMCBA, and
VMBBOARD@WEIZMANN. I would encourage people who want back issues to check
these servers, and NOT to request FSFNets to be sent during weekdays and other
peak load times.
After this issue (and the conclusion of Murph's lengthy and worthy
submission), FSFNet will return to its previous format, including the featured
author column. Narret will also continue to it's illogical beginning. For
those of you who will be here this summer, stay tuned for the beginning of
Volume 2 June first. For those who will not be here this summer, remember to
get in touch again in the fall for Volume 3!
At the end of this first volume, I would like to thank you all for making
this project successful, particularly those who took part in the survey and,
of course, the contributors, without whom there would be no zine. Thank you
all, and onward into the future!
Orny <NMCS025 @ MAINE>
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The Narret Chronicles
Book the Seventh
Samo strained for a second, regaining his composure and letting his eyes
adjust to the cold, bright blackness of the counter-universe. He reached down
to the guidance computer and entered the triaxial coordinates of a dim-yellow,
class G star that was situated in a star field that appeared to Samo to be the
reverse of Cyri. The star he sought was situated not even halfway there, but,
as he could recall quite vividly, it seemed to appear pleasantly as a shiny
point of light gleaming on Cyri's daser.
Concentrating on the distant star, Samo kept it centered on the light-
sensitive directional guiding system developed by Cpl. Stado for guiding his
white-whole telescopes in long exposure photographs. next he locked the
controls of the craft on auto, and sat back to review some notes.
"Catabilizer--deload Bio-effect future tape. File off and derun to finish."
"<<<Deloading Bio-effect file number 9000--don't wait>>>"
"<<<Derunning with massive errors, wraping down to finish>>>"
Samo saw an image of himself, some 300 Losar cycles previous his voice
recording the exercises his figure was running through. At the time of his
first voyage, he was younger and more ambitious, and he regarded his youthful
figure with benign indignation. Still, the record he had created of his
atomic transformations during his last journey did have scientific value, and
although they were slightly immature, or so it seemed to Samo, he was glad he
had recorded them for posterity. It was helpful for him to recall how he
felt, becoming physical for the first time. It gave him something to compare
his present sensations to.
"Anti-trivia is so much more restricting than trivia." Samo had said to
himself, well actually to the ships analog computer during the first voyage.
He was glad it all felt the same the second time around.
"Catabilizer start future Bio-effect tape." He had seen enough. Enough at
least to know that he was feeling normal. Normal for a Narretan suddenly
placed in the counter-universe, that is.
"Catabilizer deload Future analog tape file and derun from ending with last
approach to planet Earth."
"<<<Deloading Future analog tape--don't wait>>>"
"<<<Derunning Future analog tape with massive errors--wrapping down to
ending with approach to Terran Planet number 3>>>"
Samo saw the dim reflection of starlight from a small, cold, planet with a
smaller, solitary satellite. He adjusted his orbit for a flyby.
"Cozy", Samo said to himself as he skirted by Pluto's cratered, gasless
surface. "So much for their ninth planet...on to the eighth," he said as he
re-adjusted the orbit for Neptune. "Might as well check out what I've got to
work with in raw materials..."
"Ah this is more like it!" He said as he entered the green atmosphere and
flew under the ring, perpendicular to the planet's horizontal axis. "Sulphuric
acid, Carbon dioxide, methane, hydrogen, and traces of oxygen." He said into
the microphone of his analog computer.
As he flew by Uranus, he became disappointed at the state of human
technological advancement. "The humans have not established a base on the
seventh planet of this solar system yet." He recorded.
At Saturn, he could not stop himself from making a few measurements of the
ring and studying its chemical composition and the elements in the atmosphere.
He wanted to compare the sizes of the counter planets with the sizes of the
home planets to see if there was a measurable difference between anti-trivial
and trivial mass.
Samo was monitoring the pre-nuclear signals from Earth as he flew from
planet to planet, and the signals seemed to be decreasing, so he adjusted his
course for Jupiter and began contemplating his coming encounter with the
humans. How primitive were they? How could he best communicate with the
masses? Most importantly how could he explain who he was without being taken
for a mad man...
He decided he'd have to give it his best shot with a few special effects
when he got there.
Jupiter. Samo flew inside the ring and ran a spectral analysis on its
composition. He entered the data into the analog computer for conversion to
darktron spectral analysis, and flew into the cloud bands. He took her down
beneath the cloud layer and was again disappointed that the humans had not
even progressed as far as the fifth planet.
"Fifth planet uninhabited," Samo recorded, "entering asteroid belt."
As Samo skirted Mars he was again unsurprised by the lack of habitation.
"These humans are non-colonial and primitive, at a level approximately equal
to Amrif's pre-sramian period."
"Approaching Earth orbit at an inclination of 45 degrees to the planet's
equator. Receiving two strong signals from different continental masses.
Both northern hemisphere, opposite sides of the planet." He recorded.
"Time to let them know I'm here..."
Mari A. Paulson
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Dream Weaver
Copyright (c) 1984 Michael A. Murphy
(Conclusion of story begun in Vol1N07)
Sharmuth's afternoon session went like the others had. No real progress
was made. After studying the tape of today's dream, Doctor James felt like
they were going nowhere fast. It was quite a different feeling from the
elation he felt about Maryann's rapid progress. The difference in rates of
progress had him a little confused. Normally, he would have been able to
retain a professional attitude if he had had just one of the two cases at any
given time. Rapid rates of progress are not unusual. Neither are cases that
have no progress. The fact he had one of each at the same time was what
perplexed Doctor James. It just did not seem right that he could have such
amazing success with one patient and have absolute zero success with another.
"You're looking much better today, Maryann."
"Thank you, Doctor. I really feel quite a bit better. My therapist ran
some tests this morning and he said that there had been an improvement in the
muscle tissue of my arm. He was rather excited about it after all these weeks
of absolutely no change. I am quite thrilled about it myself! I now have a
positive reinforcement so that I can keep hoping that I will once again be
able to use every part of my body. I haven't ever given up hope, but there
were times when all the tests and efforts of others and myself seemed so
futile. I think that, more than any other reason, is why I look better today.
I just feel so much better on the inside that I can't contain it all and it is
spreading to my outside."
"I'm certainly glad that you are feeling so much better about everything,
Maryann. I don't want to bring you down, but I do hope that you can continue
to feel this way even if we don't make any more progress over the next week or
even the next month. Progress can sustain a positive attitude with ease.
It's keeping your positive attitude when things are not going your way that is
the biggest step towards progress."
"I don't think I can ever feel badly about my situation again, Doctor. I
have been through the futility of feeling sorry for myself and now I can
accept myself the way I am if I do not respond any further to treatment. I've
been happy before and I have been sad. I have never been anywhere near as
happy as I was when my therapist told me that there had been an improvement,
however small it might have been. Even if I never have another change in
condition I still know that hope is not futile and that improvement is
possible because it happened once. Until now, no one thought that I had any
real hope of ever regaining use of my limbs because I had not responded at all
over the course of a month where full rehabilitation takes less than half that
time. Now I have a solid basis for the hope that was only in my mind before.
Now I know that that hope is not a futile hope. Since my condition did
improve once, I know that it can happen again. I am betting that it will
continue to improve. If it doesn't, well, I still have hope."
"That's one heck of an attitude. I wish I could get all of my patients to
think that way. Too many people these days are trying to get everything in
large chunks. They want immediate and large scale results in everything they
do. They won't settle for consistent progress or improvement. They want
everything now. If they don't get it, they put the blame on someone else and
try something else. The people in this world would do well to lose something
that they take for granted and be told that they could never have it back.
And slowly, very slowly, they would regain the use of that thing. Then they
might come to appreciate some of the things we all take for granted.
"Let's get back to the case at hand, my dear. We have progress to make
with you."
"I'm all for progress, Doctor."
"Were you able to remember anything else by concentrating on the color red
over the past few days?"
"No, not really. I did dream about the color red one night though. I
haven't woken up at night because of a dream since last week. I think being
aware of the other dream and that the color red plays an important part in the
last dream kept me from becoming terrified at night recently. I do remember
other colors from when I was dreaming about the color red. They were all
blurs though and I don't know what they were other than blurs of color. They
all just kind of blended together. They were all earth colors. Grey, brown,
green. I get a very ominous feeling when I think of those colors and red
still makes me feel uneasy."
"After viewing your dream it is quite easy to see why the color red would
make you wake up screaming and also cause you to feel a little uneasy.
"Tell me... Do you remember anything at all about the accident that put
you in the situation that you're in now? Do you remember where it occurred?
Or who was in the vehicle with you? Or where you were going at the time it
occurred? Anything?"
"Nothing. I know that my family was killed only because I was told after I
had been conscious for a few days and had asked about them. I don't remember
anything about what we did that day or why I was with them that day. I know,
again because I was told, where the accident occurred.
"The toughest thing to deal with was the fact that my parents and brother
had been killed and I didn't even remember being with them prior to the
accident. I can understand my not being able to remember anything about the
accident, but why has my mind blocked out the events leading up to the
accident? Why?"
"I think it is time for you to view your last dream. I was going to wait
for a couple of sessions so we could discuss your accident thoroughly enough
so that you wouldn't be taken totally by surprise by the dream. I think you
know enough via hearsay, you're also beginning to remember fringes of the
circumstances surrounding the accident, to view the dream and have it help us
rather than set us back.
"So let's get over to the machinery and give it a go."
"Lead the way, Doctor."
As the tape ended Maryann sighed lightly and slumped wearily in her chair.
"I am beginning to remember even more now, Doctor."
"Good. You didn't display any violent reaction to what was on the tape.
That is good. I had feared that you might, upon 'seeing' the accident for the
first time," actually the second, he thought, "have an adverse reaction to it.
I'm glad to see that my fears were unfounded."
"I remember the accident now. I still don't remember where we had been or
where we were going, but I do remember the part of our trip just prior to the
accident. I also remember the accident itself and being thrown just a bit to
the side of where my parents and brother were thrown. We were all wearing
harnesses, but I guess the force of the impact just severed the harnesses and
threw us all out. The only reason I am alive now is because I was thrown a
few feet in another direction than the rest of my family. The red in my dream
that kept waking me up is the red of the blood. My blood and the blood of my
family. This was a very short memory, the color red. I guess I passed out
very shortly after noticing all the blood. That is all I remember until the
dreams of the regen tanks.
"You're amazing, Doctor. You done in a very short time what no one else
believed could be done. I think we've discovered the major reasons why I keep
waking up and I also think that now I will begin to improve physically even
more rapidly. It's so wonderful to have a memory again. Even if the memories
that have been uncovered are not exactly pleasant, it is still nice to have
them and know about them rather than be scared silly by them in ignorance. I
would like to figure out what we were doing all together and why we were in
such a hurry on the day of the accident."
"We'll continue to work on that, Maryann. I do want to keep an eye on you
for a while even though you feel so positive about your recovery now. We want
to keep things under control and I'd like to see you recover all of your
memory that was lost because of the accident."
"Yes, Doctor. I'll see you in a couple of days. Maybe by then I'll be
walking again!" Maryann exulted.
The newspaper headlines today read "FIRST CLUE IN MANCHESTER MURDERS
UNEARTHED." The article went on to say that another murder had been
committed. All the murders had occurred within a half mile radius. Though
the area has been heavily patrolled of late, another dead body appeared
nonetheless. But this time a man was seen moving away from the spot where the
murder occurred.
"Doctor, I am becoming a nervous wreck. I have had two more blackouts
since the other day and who knows what I've done while I've been asleep. I
can't continue like this. I've got to get to the bottom of this before I go
absolutely crazy and do something foolish."
"Mr. Sharmuth, you have to admit that it is very difficult to make progress
with something when you have no point at which to begin. We have no clues to
aid us in beginning to find out why you are blacking out. We know that it is
not a physical problem. All of the tests by the physicians have come up
negative. That leaves us with the assumption that if it is not a physical
problem that is causing you to black out, then it must be a mental one. Until
we find that one little clue to use as a springboard, we will not be making
rapid progress. Believe me, I'd like to see progress just as much as you
would. But we must keep searching your mind to find that one little clue,
that one minor inconsistency. It could be anything. We just have to be very
alert and careful so that we don't overlook anything. In so doing there is
virtually no way we can move rapidly. Should we move rapidly, we stand a very
good chance of overlooking that which we are looking for, whatever it may be."
"I understand, Doctor, but I still don't have to like it and I still want
quick results. I'm used to getting things done quickly and it is extremely
difficult to be patient through all of this."
"Let us go over and give the dream monitor another try. This time I want
you to concentrate on blacking out for a few minutes before you go to sleep."
"Ok. I'll give it a try," Sharmuth sighed heavily.
Doctor James pulled the tape out of the monitor after Sharmuth had woken
up. He set the tape on his desk, walked back over to the monitor, and helped
Sharmuth out of the equipment.
"Do you recall anything about this dream? Did concentrating on blacking
out do anything - make you feel anything different - remember anything at
all?"
"Still nothing, Doctor. I don't understand it at all."
"Try to concentrate on your blackouts over the next couple of days. Try
and stimulate the subconscious so that some of it's thoughts and memories
might become conscious. I'll take a look at this tape in a while. Let's hope
there is something different on it. Something that can give us a direction to
aim in, a starting point."
"Ok, Doctor. I'll see you in a couple of days."
Sharmuth's recently made tape was very much the same as the other two.
There was nothing on the tape that could be used as a starting point to delve
further for clues. "It's time to adopt Maryann's positive attitude and not
feel that everything we're doing is totally futile," James thought.
Time seemed to jump ahead for Doctor James. There had been no progress at
all in Sharmuth's case. It was becoming increasingly bewildering. Maryann
had continued to improve steadily, but not as rapidly as at first. This was
to be expected. The rapid pace of the beginning of her treatment was just too
much to expect it to continue. With her case doing so well, he had more time
to spend on Sharmuth's case.
Sharmuth's case was one instance where a positive outlook had not helped.
So far. There had to be something. It was only a matter of time before he
stumbled upon it by just moving about blindly.
Doctor James arrived in is office earlier than usual one morning. He had a
full calendar of appointments in the afternoon but had nothing in the morning.
He had planned to look over the last few tapes of Sharmuth's dreams. He had
hoped to find something, anything, that might help.
In the course of walking across the room to where he stored his tapes, he
noticed that the monitor had been left on and a tape was just coming to an
end. The record switch was on.
James checked over his tapes quickly and determined that this tape was a
new tape and not one of the ones he had used just recently. He watched as the
tape got closer to the end. The record switch finally shut off and the tape
was forwarded to the end and then the monitor shut off. James took the tape
out and went over to his playback equipment. He wanted to find out what could
possibly be on this tape. How did it get into the monitor and how did the
monitor get started up? What was it recording, if anything? How could
anything be recorded when there was no one connected to the input gear?
He loaded the tape and began to view it.
I am being followed. Why am I being followed? I'll have to do something
about this. I haven't done anything and he certainly doesn't look at all like
a cop. I'm almost home. I don't want him to follow me home. Who knows what
he may do. He's probably one of those types who doesn't deserve to live
anyway. The world will be much better off without him roaming the streets.
There are too many of those about these days. How can they be so cruel and
inhumane? They don't deserve to live. This one will not continue to live.
I rounded a corner and waited. I looked quickly to make sure that there
was no one else around. Even in this city, it can be rather quiet in the
early morning hours. There was no one about.
He rounded the corner and hurried his pace because he'd lost sight of me.
I came from behind him and stabbed him. He died immediately. He didn't even
have a chance to emit a sound from the pain. I cleaned the knife off on his
clothes and then walked down the street as if nothing had happened. Another
dead body in this city will not make any difference at all.
There was a quick image of beautiful, peaceful countryside and then a
raucous, rowdy scene began.
It was a bar. A couple of fights had broken out and the bouncers were in
the process of breaking the fight (and a lot of the furniture) up. bodies
were being tossed out into the street left and right. Finally, I became one
of those bodies. I gracefully picked myself up, shouted obscenities at the
bouncers, and started walking away. I didn't think of where I was going until
I got a few blocks away. I made a turn and headed for home. After a few more
blocks I saw a shadowy figure emerge from a doorway and step into my path.
He had a weapon and demanded my wallet. Not being one who is into death,
especially my own, I slowly reached for my wallet. A sharp sound came from
close by and distracted my mugger for a second. I hit his hand and knocked
the gun loose. I was closer to it and made a grab for it. I was quicker than
he and now had the gun. This world has no use for this mugger anymore. He is
another one of the sort that does not deserve to live. Now he didn't.
There were people within hearing range, but not within sight. I quickly
removed myself from the scene and then joined the small mob as they approached
the dead mugger. It was very easy to do in the confusion. The police arrived
after a short wait, asked some questions, and then sent us all home. There
were no eye witnesses. Everyone heard the shot. Everything and everyone had
disappeared by the time anyone arrived on the scene. I still don't know what
happened to the gun.
The world is better off now. One more person, who didn't deserve to live
anyway, was gone. How can they exist this way. The more I see, the more I
confirm the fact they do not deserve to live.
Peace. That overwhelming feeling again. Even in minute quantities it was
overwhelming.
What am I doing in this part of town? The types of people that frequent
this part of town are the sort that I would never consort with. So why am I
here? I do look rather out of place. In this den of poverty and
uncleanliness, I have no business. Certainly no legitimate business. Why am
I here? These people don't deserve to live this way. Most of them don't even
deserve to live.
A man approaches. He is a little drawn and thin, but definitely able-
bodied. One can see the strength that could be his through the holes in the
rags that the denizens of this demesne call clothes. As he gets even closer
the stench becomes rather evident. "Can you spare a dollar, mister?"
No dollar. I did talk him into coming home with me to see what life could
be like. I was planning on berating him for not doing an honest days work
when it was quite obvious that he was a very able-bodied man even in his
emaciated condition. All he needed was the will to do a little hard work.
Physical labor. Why hadn't he been working? He had obviously been in dire
straits for some time, as his condition was not good at all. He certainly
could have found work if he'd been willing to go looking. We were almost to
my place when I decided that I did not want anyone coming home with me who
could not perform an honest day's work when he was certainly more than
capable. People like that do not deserve to live. And I wouldn't call what
he was doing back in that rat infested hole living. The world is better off
without him. He is certainly much better off. I don't know how I managed,
but when I realized where I was, he was on the ground, dead. I must've
strangled him for I had no weapon. Had he not been so weakened from his style
of life, I could never have done him in with my bare hands. As he was though,
there was no challenge. He wasn't even strong enough to struggle much. But I
did catch him a little off guard too. He didn't deserve to live. How can
people exist that way?
I turned, there was someone coming this way about 4 blocks away. I turned
a corner and disappeared. No one followed. If that person kept walking, he
surely would find the body. No matter. He could not possibly have seen me
well from that distance.
Once again, that overwhelming feeling of peace. This time it lasted for
several minutes. There were more images of beautiful, lazy countryside. The
soft green and golden yellow suggested a lingering and lasting peace. The
most striking thing about the whole image was that there was no life. No
animal life. No human life.
Doctor James sat in the chair for some time thinking about what he had just
viewed. His respect for his dream monitor rose immensely. He thought he had
figured out what was happening.
The sequences he had just viewed were happenings that went on during
Sharmuth's blackout periods. The machine did pick them up, but for some
reason did not record them during the sessions with Sharmuth. The person who
had done all the killing was Sharmuth. There was no doubt about that.
Sharmuth did seem to be the ruthless type, but he did not seem to be the
killer type. And why this sudden hatred for the human species. The man
thrived on controversy and competition. He needed people so that he would be
able to enjoy himself.
Why would the machine select just one person to screen out everything that
went on in the subconscious mind? I get the distinct feeling that this tape
had two separate personalities involved in its making. One was bent on
killing and destruction, the other wanted only peace. Total peace.
Then it hit him. Total peace. To achieve total peace on this world one
would just about have to start from scratch. All life would have to be
eradicated.
Total peace. Overwhelming peace.
Doctor James decided that he had to inform the authorities of what he knew.
He would tell them who the murderer was and then he would have to dismantle
his machine. That was the worst part of it. The machine had done so much
good for so many people. This one case would ruin that record for good. What
would life have been like for Maryann without the machine? She's now fully
recovered and such a beautiful young woman now that all her parts are
proportional again! It is a shame.
The authorities would never believe his story though. How could they? The
population of the world is being exterminated one by one to achieve total
peace? What, this is being done by one man? A 'machine'!?
Well, he knew the response he was going to get. But he'd made up his mind.
Doctor James picked up the phone and dialed the authorities...
Doctor James sat bolt upright in bed, his heart beating rapidly and sweat
running down his face. He stared about his dark bedroom for a while before he
was able to fall back asleep.
Michael Murphy <MURPH @ MAINE>
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