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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 10 Mari A. Paulson
Featured Author: JAMES KAHN Orny
Backing Jim Owens
FSFnet Survey For you to send to me...
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Editorial
Well, here at last is issue 5 of FSFnet. As the summer approaches, a
number of userids will be changing, and many numbers which are sent FSFnet
will be eliminated. I would ask people who will not be around to remember to
cancel their subscription by sending me a mail file or message. FSFnet will
continue to be printed throughout the summer, and I would like those people
who will be staying throughout the summer to spread the word to others who
might be interested in the zine, as many of our subscribers and contributors
will be leaving for summer break.
Both subscriptions and submissions have slowed to a trickle. I must remind
you that FSFnet is more your venture than mine, and that it must receive
submissions to continue to work. Please spread the word and encourage others
to join the membership list, and try to get something written. I know that
many of you are writers of quality...
The CSNEWS server at MAINE now supports a bulletin board service which many
users might be interested in investigating. For general information on CSNEWS
send it a message HELP. For info on the bulletin board service, say SENDME
CSBB HELPNET. Files you might wish to request can be requested by sending
SENDME COMICS CSNOTICE, SENDME STARTREK CSNOTICE, and/or SENDME SCIFI
CSNOTICE. Maine users, of course, can get these files by sharing CSNEWS' 192
disk.
Well, enjoy, and spread the word. And remember, contributions are needed!
Orny <NMCS025 @ MAINE>
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The Narret Chronicles
Book The Tenth
"With all undue disrespect to His Recruitship, what in the heavens are we
all doing here?"
"Yes, Yes, what ARE we all doing here?"
"Rudemen, rudemen please, come to chaos will you." The voice of the
commander of the Narret System's Interplanetary Society boomed over the
loudspeakers. "You've all been called here out of an emergency situation
which has occured on our counter-planet in the Terran System. But after I get
to that, it is unimportant that you remain ignorant of the other Scientists
here. Most of them you already won't know, as their infamity follows them .
Some of them may be familiar, so allow me to introduce them to you now. To my
far right is Cpl. Dr. Zark, an ignorant on counter-universal structure and
geography; to my right Cpl. Stado, an ignorant on daytime observation of
white-holes; to my far left Sgt. Dr. Guilp, an ignorant on the construction
of darktron-wave warp engines and their incorporation into spacecraft; and
finally my left hand man on matters of this kind, Sgt. Dr. Samo Ht, the
system's foremost ignorant on Trivia-Antitrivia reactions. Sergeant Dr. Ht
comes to us from the Institute for Regressive Presearch on Amrif."
"Fine, now that we're all ignorant of one another, lets get up to the
matter at hand." Said Dr. Zark, wishing to get the blue tape over with.
"Alright, rudemen, may I detract your attention to the Vidscreen you see
before you. What you are seeing is the product of a bottom secret trans-
counter-universal communications presearch project that NSIS has been working
on for the last several Losar Cycles. The images which you see are
computational composite images of the most probable counter-universal sources
for white-body radiation in our universe. Note specifically the chronograph
in the lower left corner of the Vidscreen. The sources change from one low
energy body to another, and the fluctuation between bodies has an upper limit
of no longer than one On. Now note the following: For the last ten Ons, the
source has remained constant. An image of it should come up right about..."
"Oh no." blurted Zark
"Just beautiful!" exclaimed Ht
"Sorry rudemen, but the image has been confirmed and I assure you there has
been no mistake. The white-body radiation increase in our universe over the
last ten Ons has been caused by none other than the build-up and launch
readying of enough nuclear weapons on Planet Earth to blow the whole Terran
System to the sixth physical dimension."
"(Screens down) That's why you men are here. Clearly something must be
done to make them realize that if they succeed in blowing themselves off the
dimension scan, they will also be blowing us off it with them. Somehow,
someway, before this conference is adjourned we must devise a method for
letting the Earthlings know that they are not alone."
"Yes but how?" Queried Guilp "The humans can't receive darktron wave
communications any more than we can receive their photon laser
communications."
"Yes, and if they could, it would take trillions of Losar Cycles just to
get there," added Stado.
"Actually, it would take quintillions, 4.57289 quintillions to be a little
less exact." said Samo. "I was afraid it would come to this, but then again,
it always does."
"What in the heavens are you talking about Ht?" asked Zark. "You sound as
if you've been there before."
"Commander with your permission I would like to raise the security
clearance of this meeting to the bottom-most level."
"What is he talking about Commander Valtrep? I thought that an Omega Class
security clearance WAS the bottom-most class." said Stado.
"It is, for Sunaru. But not for NSIS. There are several lower classes in
NSIS." The commander explained. "In anticipation of your request, I took the
liberty of having that level security check done, merely a formality, of
course, and you all passed. Here are your Class Omega-Alpha:Alpha-Omega
security passes. Dr. Ht would you please be mean enough to explain the future
of these security level passes?"
"Sure," said Ht. "This is not the first time the Humans have tried to do
away with themselves..."
Mari A. Paulson
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Featured Author: JAMES KAHN
James Kahn is neither prolific nor well-known in the vast fantasy market.
He has written a mystery novel named "Diagnosis: Murder", and has contributed
to other works as well. His works of fantasy are limited to a series known as
the "New World Trilogy". The first volume is entitled "World Enough, and
Time" and is a unique and provocative work set in a more-than-half mythical
future California. It is an excellent tale, and Kahn has succeeded in
bringing a refreshing newness to old mythical creatures and the typical post-
cataclysm Earth stories.
The second book of the trilogy, "Time's Dark Laughter", is a much more
mature book, with more ominous plots and more involved implications. However,
the main characters remain the same, and their honesty and goodness do not
change. In "World Enough", the characters are interested only in saving
themselves, while in "Laughter" they are forced into action to stop a threat
to the entire area. The third book, to the best of my knowledge, has not been
released as yet, but, believe me, I'm looking!
Kahn's style is very good. The books are excellent for readers who enjoy
light (but far from mindless or dull) reading. The books are exceptional in
style, as the author brings a new richness to old beasts and situations. Kahn
is an excellent fantasist, and these books are well worth the effort to find.
Which brings up a point. They may very well prove hard to find. Published
by Del Rey in 1980 and 1982, respectively, there are few copies left on
bookstore shelves, and Kahn's relative anonymity has hampered volume sales.
The books are, nonetheless, excellent works, and are well worth the effort to
find. Perhaps when the third volume is issued there will be a renewed
interest, and old volumes will again be stocked.
Orny <NMCS025 @ MAINE>
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Backing
Greg looked out on the massed faces. The road was rough, and the sheet
metal cart he was in bounced and boomed over the potholes. He was often thrown
against the sides of the cart, scraping his hands. He would have sat down, but
then he wouldn't have been able to avoid the occasional thrown rock. The scene
looked so much like the old movies he had seen of the French Revolution that
had he not been the one in the tumbrel, he would have laughed.
He felt little anxiety over his impending execution. He had been expecting
it for some time. In fact, it was almost a relief, after the days of running
and hiding, constantly fearing that someone would turn him in. He felt more
sorrow for his young companions in the cart. They stood back to back, their
arms tied together. They were close friends in life, and their captors had
decided that they would be close friends in death. One of them turned to him.
"You'd think they were angry with us or something." He had to raise his
voice to be heard over the angry sound of the mob.
"Yeah, like we'd been trying to change their whole way of life or
something."
Greg's reply rang true. Even as he said it, Greg thought back to that day
when he had first set eyes on this planet.
"What!?" He couldn't believe his ears. "I'm going to tell them what!?"
"You must tell them that they had better straighten up their act, because
the new world order is coming, and it won't tolerate the way they are
presently living."
"You can't be serious. What is this new world order business? And who's
going to be running it?"
"We are."
Greg couldn't believe his ears. He had been sent to the planet by the
Paixians, a group that had suddenly appeared on the galactic scene only five
years previously, with technology and power that put everything else in space
to shame. Yet they had consistently used their power only to help other
planets, to build the new, to repair the old, to help where help was needed.
True, they weren't a real major force in the economic market, nor did they
enter into any alliances, but they were always on the minds of the major
policy makers, as an unknown and possibly influential factor. But in no way
did they fit the description of empire builders.
Yet, here was one of them,telling him in all seriousness that he had to
tell the people of this planet,of all planets, that they were about to become
someone else's subjects. That was sheer suicide, by any standards. He was at
the time standing on Arelite, the home planet of the Arelites, known galaxy
wide for their short tempers and hard hitting shock troops. No people had a
greater planetary pride.They had, before the arrival of the Paixians, totally
sterilized half of the populated bodies in their system in a war that lasted
three days and which had started when their ambassador had been insulted at a
state dinner held on their sister planet, Buccus. And he had to tell them...
"Right."
He had been told to recruit 5,000 Arelites to help with his announcement
plans. He was not given ambassadorial status. In fact, the Arelites didn't
even know he was on the planet. Fortunately.
"But don't worry. You have our full backing."
Elein, his traveling mate, stood beside the Paixian.
"You'll love it Greg. You always liked public speaking."
He hated public speaking.
He had been given money, and the names and locations of the major
broadcasting facilities, so that was no problem. Recruiting Arelites to,
effectively, betray their own planet, was something entirely different, or so
he thought. To his surprise, for about 2 weeks solid, every person he talked
to, or so it seemed, was discontented, upset with the government, anxious for
a better life, or somehow mentally prepared for the concept of a new
management, so to speak. They were quickly added to the ranks of his small but
growing cadre, and in turn started feeling out prospective members. At first
he wondered at the surprising amount of turncoats, but soon realized that it
was no coincidence that they had happened to be in the area the same time he
was. It seemed that the Paixians were using every means at their well stocked
disposal to throw him the best possible combination of recruits. They came
from every walk of life, and yet they seemed to fit together like a glove.
With the gentle philosophy of the Paixians flowing through the group at the
instruction of Greg, they soon had enough people to cover all the bases, the
contacts to get into the studios, the men to create the tapes of the
broadcasted message, the managers to combine all the efforts. With great
anticipation, they set a date, and spun the tapes.
The result was spectacular, but predictable. Most of the group had gone
underground the week before the broadcast, but Greg and a few hand selected
aids stayed behind, so that had the reaction been more favorable there would
have been someone readily available to lead the throngs. The throngs came all
right, carrying nooses. The only reason Greg et al had not died outright was
that the secret police were faster than the raging lynch mobs.
A sudden stop brought Greg back to the here and now. He looked around and
saw that they were stopped in front of a large white marble building. He and
the two others were herded inside, where they were whisked five stories up to
where a wide balcony opened out. There the government had, just for them,
erected a large steel guillotine, complete with basket. As he stepped into
view, the crowd below started a chant. As they were pulling the blade up, he
was able to hear the words floating up from the assembled masses.
"Kill them! Kill them!"
How original.
There was no ceremony. He was roughly forced onto the steel table. He saw
out of the corner of his eye a gaudily clad general raise his arm. The
chanting ceased. The general paused dramatically,and dropped his arm. He heard
the sliding of the blade, then there was a blow like a sledgehammer, and
everything went blinding white.
And stayed that way. He felt no pain. He did, after a moment, get annoyed
with the strain of holding his head up. Then he realized that he should no
longer have to hold his head up, much less be able to. He realized that his
hands were now free. He cautiously raised his body, and found that he was no
longer locked in by steel. The light dimmed, and became normal. He opened his
eyes, and looked around.
"Good job, Greg."
"I think I've asked this before. Elein, Why aren't I dead?"
Behind Elein stood the Paixian who brought him to Arelite.
"What were you worrying about? I told you you had our backing."
Greg looked back. The crowd below was running, in every direction but
towards the building. The guillotine still stood, from the table top down.
Where the blade guides had been there were now two, shining square patches,
sliced off flush, polished to a mirror surface.
"I blew the rest of it into orbit. That's the flash you saw." The Paixian
was grinning widely. "I enjoy grandstanding. Don't get to do it very often.
The guys in upstairs said it was one of the greatest starting guns they ever
saw."
"Actually you blew it further out than just orbit. You might have actually
given it escape velocity."
Greg looked around. He saw his two companions, grinning and rubbing their
bruised wrists. He saw Elein, listening with an amused expression. He saw the
Paixian. But none of them had spoken.
"Who said that?"
"That's Michael. You'll be meeting him soon, after we finish mopping up."
"Mopping up?"
"Yes. You can relax. The invasion's over. We won. Of course."
Jim Owens <J1O @ PSUVM>
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FSFNET SURVEY
Fill in and return
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Are there any other authors you feel are particularly noteworthy?
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( ) Vol 1 No 5:
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