Received: by NADC.ARPA (5.51/1.0 ) id AA22186; Fri, 18 Mar 88 12:33:50 EST Message-Id: <8803181733.AA22186@NADC.ARPA> Received: from TCSVM.Tulane.EDU by CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU ; Fri, 18 Mar 88 12:33:46 EST Received: by TCSVM (Mailer X1.25) id 0087; Fri, 18 Mar 88 08:45:13 CST Date: Fri, 18 Mar 1988 08:45 CST From: Revised List Processor (1.5m) Subject: File: "FSFNET VOL01N3" being sent to you To: wyzansky@NADC.ARPA Status: R +-+ +-+ +-+ +-+--+-+--+-+ VOLUME ONE NUMBER THREE | | ========================================== +___________+ FFFFF SSS FFFFF N N EEEEE TTTTT | ++ | F S F NN N E T | ++ | FFF SSS FFF N N N EEE T | | F S F N NN E T |_________| F SSS F N N EEEEE T /___________\ ========================================== | | BITNET Fantasy-Science Fiction Fanzine ___|___________|___ X-Edited by 'Orny' Liscomb (NMCS025@MAINE) <>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<> CONTENTS Editorial Orny Flyby Fiction by Jim Owens Featured Author: TANITH LEE Orny The Narret Chronicles Fiction by Mari A. Paulson <>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<> Editorial Well, folks, welcome to issue three of FSFnet! After last issue's slump, we have got some real treats for you with some excellent fiction. I must thank Jim Owens (J1O @ PSUVM) for most of this issue - his loyalty and productiveness... well... if only all readers were so avid and so talented... I must again remind you that FSFnet is a fanzine, and that I must have submissions for it to continue. I know that many of you have commented about sending things in, but haven't found the time. Please do... FSFnet needs your support to continue. Also, it has come to my attention that many people are having problems reading FSFnet onto their disks. VAX users want DISK DUMP CLASS N, IBM users want SENDFILE, and so forth. I would like to hear from people as to which format they consider most desirable. And thank you for putting up with any inconvenience due to this problem, past or future. One more thing before I send you off into space... Issue four will be a special tribute to H.P. Lovecraft, famous author of horror, particularly the Cthulhu mythos. If you have anything that might be acceptable, please send it in! As always, letters are welcome, as is almost anything I can get my hands on! But I grow long-winded, and I would not presume to detract from the two wonderful pieces of fiction in this issue, so READ ON! Orny <>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<> FLYBY The asteroid flashed past, turning slowly. He could feel the power in the twin-spool behind him. He knew, however, that there were more powerful engines in the warship behind him. "Easy run." Elein had said as she pulled him to the booth. "Just lure the ships out to the Belt and they pay our way back!" The Paixites needed ships, he knew. But they needed the men even more. The Paixites were not wimps. They held more power than the rest of space combined. They just weren't takers. They were more likely to give you a planet than to try to take yours. They had a fantastic, outgoing way about them, an attitude unmatched for niceness. Without that, mankind would have been in trouble. Some, however, saw niceness as weakness. Ever since they had appeared in human space they had been the target of many a siege, and were under one now by a group whose sole interest in life was the acqusition of other people's goods. The pay was good, however, and the the assignment easy. Besides, he had wanted to fly the VAS Butterfly for many months now. Ever since it came out all he had heard was how fast and maneuverable it was. And here was the chance. So he signed up, took off within the hour, and now here they were. "Greg, you got ..." The transmission was cut off as he reacted, swinging around and heading for a nearby point of light he knew to be a large asteroid. As he did, he caught sight of the capture ship swinging around in a larger arc in an attempt to keep up with him. The men flying it had one concern: the electronics in the tail of his little ship. If they could get his ship in range of their tractor field... Even as he watched, he saw one of the large vessels slide up behind Elein's ship. Even as he yelled for her to evade, she hit her emergency boosters. They pushed her forward - just far enough for the nose of the Butterfly to escape. But the rest of the ship was still in the capture jaws, which slammed shut, neatly severing the cockpit from the rest of the craft. The life compartment, with Elein in it, drifted off to one side, like the head of a fish out of a shark's mouth. He had little time to reflect on how long Elein could survive on the little bit of emergency air provided in the cockpit, because even as he dove around the asteroid it's surface came alive with sparks and flashes of light. It only took a moment to realize that he was being fired upon. Apparently the pirates had caught all of the other nine craft, and had decided that this last one wasn't worth the effort, and that now all they had to do was eliminate it. He felt like screaming. Instead he hit the emergency thrusters and rounded the asteroid marginally ahead of the pursuit. He flashed past a pinnacle, and then straightened out his flight, hoping to loose his followers. Then, to his surprise, he saw, just ahead, th Paixian transport ship, it's landing bay wide open, it's landing field activated and waiting. All he had to do was reach it, as fast as possible, and he was safe. No weapon could reach him, they would cancel his immense velocity, they would protect him. A little further... 500 meters out the plasma bolt from the pirate ship caught him in the engine. It vaporized it's way through the composite hull, and slammed into the ship's skeleton. Even as it ignited the fuel, the shock wave reached the cockpit and split the canopy. Milliseconds before the heat from the exploding engines could reach him, Greg was blasted out into vacuum by the exploding ejection seat bolts. "Greg..." He opened his eyes. The light was bright. Heaven? "Greg..." He turned his head. If this was heaven they sure had modern landing bays. He was hanging upside down in what could only be a Paixian landing field, staring at a pair of feet that could only belong to one person. "Elein, why aren't I dead?" "You blew it right in front of the landing field. You passed out on the last 100 meters through the void before you hit the field." Greg rolled to his feet. Standing behind Elein at a respectable distance was the Paixian who had hired them. "Congratulations Greg. You survived the longest. In fact, you are the first person in history ever to bring any part of his ship to the delivery point." Greg followed the pointed finger. There lay the assembled wreckage of his ship. "Am I to take it you can salvage that?" "No, of course not. Why would we want to? It's you we really wanted after all, someone who would fulfill his contract without turning back, regardless of what gauntlet they had to run." "And I did it, eh?" There was little left of the ship but shards. "Yes. After all, it's the attitude we want, not merely the product." Jim Owens <>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<> Featured Author: TANITH LEE Tanith Lee is one of the prolific female FSF authors of this age. The London librarian's books are in the vanguard of todays literature. Although she has a devoted following of readers, her books are not the kind often found on neighborhood bookstore shelves. Her style is very unique and mature, and, if I may venture a subjective opinion, among the best writings I have ever read. Lee deals effectively with fantasy, love, horror, ethics, and mystery as well as any author. Her twisting the expected and the traditional can be seen in many of her works. Her Flat Earth series, including "Death's Master," "Delusion's Master," "Night's Master,"and, soon to be released, "Delirium's Mistress" are excellent works of wonder and mystery. Her Birthgrave series, "the Birthgrave," "Vazkor, Son of Vazkor," and "Quest for the White Witch" are masterworks of science fiction, combining sexual sophistication, literary maturity, and unique insights into morality. "Sung in Shadow" retells a famous Shakespearean tale, with Lee's typically atypical twists of plot, as "Red as Blood" retells many well-known childrens yarns. But these works are not for the young at all! Perhaps Lee's master work, "Cyrion," is an enthralling, captivating work, following episodes in the life of a wandering legend. Her tales are never entirely what is expected, and they provide fresh, mature, perceptive insights into the realm of wonder. Although most of Lee's works are published by David Wollheim's DAW Books, Lee has also written two books for the new Tempo MagicQuest series, "the Dragon Hoard" and "East of Midnight." The former is a wondrous tale of fantasy, more simplistic than her other works. The latter is typical Lee, full of unexpected twists and deep thought. The future seems to hold many new developments for Tanith Lee. Scheduled for publication by DAW are: "Delirium's Mistress" and "the Gods are Thirsty," and recently published are "East of Midnight" and "the Gorgon." For those who are interested, there is an excellent interview with the author in Heavy Metal magazine (Nov 84-v8n8). Orny <>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<> "THE NARRET CHRONICLES" BOOK THE LAST It was a night just like any other night on Amrif, nothing at all out of the ordinary. The sky was dark white, and the stars were all glimmering bright black. High pressure systems over this solitary ocean were the norm for this desert world. Since the desert wasn't conducive to normal life forms, the people of this third planet in the Narret System lived in giant floating cities, and satellite suburbias connected by an intricate system of channelways. Samo Ht was skimming along in his Hydrocar, thinking about the lecture he was going to give to his class, when Cyri, a familiar cons tellation caught his eye. "Oh Cyri, when woulds't thou lower thy head. When woulds't thou drop thy weary DASER, and end thy warring ways." He quoted the famous line from Steadywound the ancient poet. Whatever did Bill Steadywound see in a constellation as old as Cyri? He asked himself True, there was something romantic about the old asterism, but the legend about how Cyri had cut down 400 desert creatures with a single charge fro m his Dark Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation gun gave him shudders. "How disgustingly advanced" Samo thought to himself. "Oh, well, that's what the future's about, as for now: Backward and downward." Samo Ht glanced out the window of his Hydrocar again. This time something else caught his eye. "Ah ha, the Dusty Lane!" Samo exclaimed "My, it's exceptionally clear tonight. Humh, I guess I'll have to close the observatory before class tonight..." "...so class we have an entire system here: the nucleons, which consist of the neuterons and the negatrons and orbiting shells of particles called positrons. Remember that the atom in its resting state is always balanced in charge, and the total number of positrons always equals the number of negatrons. Any questions? Yes, Lexia?" "Dr. Ht, what happens to the atom if it gets excited? Will the positrons go flying off and leave the atom negatively charged?" "That's exactly right Lexia. The resulting charged atom is called an ion. You'll learn more about ions in the next lower course." Just then the green light on the Vidcom came on. "Well class it looks like your luck ran out again. Class dismissed." Samo knew that when the green light came on, it could mean only one of two things, and both of them spelled trouble. The light meant that there was an incoming wave transmission, and the transmissions always came from one of two sources. Either it was some stupid-ass general, a clerk who messed up and shattered an important document, (since this was a desert world, all records were kept on diamond etched glass plates) usually some of his inreproducible research, or it was a lower ranking private ordering him on an important mission. Fortunately the former didn't happen too often, and something told him that this time it would definitely be the latter. It was only a matter of millicentons before his suspicions were confirmed, and the image of the planet's commanding officer, Private Stark, formed from a solitary centered dot, to a horizontal line, to a circle, and finally a tubular hologram on the Vidcom. Samo saluted. "No time for formalities, Sgt. Ht." the commander bluntly began. "There's an inter-planetary crisis, involving all nine planets of The Narret System. It deals with Trivia-Antitrivia reactions,and we need you to be one of our foremost experts on the subject. There's an emergency conference being held on the Planet Sunaru in one On. We're calling in our lowest minds on this one. Your orders are to report to the Central Sea on Sunaru in exactly 95 centons. Any questions?" "Yes, does this at all concern our counter-planet sir?" "Unfortunately, yes it does. They're playing God again. And you know as well as I do what that could mean. If that's all, you better get going' you now have 94.5 centons." "Yes, that's all. Thank you sir." "Thank ME? Bad luck to YOU, Sergeant. Stark out." "Well, no time to close the observatory now. Got to get going." Mari A. Paulson <>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>