22

THINK OF THE FUTURE TOMORROW - Natasha Barry

The party was a rare occurrence for Kirk. He ordinarily didn't attend them, feeling that more than six people in one room was a waste of an air pocket (you just couldn't get anything done). But his most recent love, 'the lovely Ruth' as he called her, had insisted. Wanting to please Ruth, especially when he knew he wasn't the only man bidding for her favor, he had allowed himself to be coerced into making an appearance.

PURGATORY - Jane Elza

Spock stared at the blue shirted Vulcan before him himself, and yet, not himself.

"Fascinating," the twin murmured.

"Spock?" It was Captain Kirk, leaping from the center chair, looking from the Vulcan at the science station to Spock standing in the center of the bridge.

Suddenly dizzy, Spock felt himself swaying. The ion storm had twisted reality and stripped him of his controls so that when he slipped to the floor, all he felt was surprise.

SIREN SONG - Kay Wells

"Sulu, maintain present position."

"Aye, Sir," answered the helmsman.

"Spock?"

"The storm has passed, Captain . . . . " The dark eyes revealed an outer calm; the inner man quailed.

PERSPECTIVE - Pat Charles

"What do you feel?"

"My feelings are not a subject for discussion."

"As in there aren't any to discuss?"

In the quiet of his quarters Kirk recalled the snatch of conversation and, with guilt, the fact that even in the midst of his grief for Chekov, he had been fervently hoping that McCoy's statement was untrue. Then later, in the O.K. Corral itself, he had been shown, he thought, some grounds for being optimistic.

SANDPAPER & SALVE - Elizabeth Scott

"Damnit, Sulu. What the hell's going on here? I order warp speed and you sit there chewing on your knuckles. If the Klingons had been on our tail, we'd all be space dust by now.

When I ask for warp, I want to feel this ship move! Do you understand, Mister?"

"Yes, Sir!" Sulu responded smartly. He wiped at the sweat on his forehead and wondered if someone had drawn a bulls-eye on his back. James Kirk, cheerful and efficient, was difficult enough to please. James Kirk, moody and dictatorial, was impossible.

TAIL CHASING - Emily Adams, Marian Flanders

The Ontarion behind the desk of the dilapidated hotel desk looked up, his whiskers flicking with nervousness. "Yes, Sir," he said, the structure of his mouth giving him a lisp as he spoke Federation Standard. "Room 311." The whiskers flicked again. "Enjoy your stay . . . . "

His eyes followed the pair to the lift.

MAKING A LIST - A.T. Bush

McCoy found himself reading a who's who of Starfleet's female career officers. He ate in silence until he thought he had figured out why Spock would be rating women. A mathematician wasn't needed to count to seven for him. McCoy watched Spock precisely spearing perfect squares of yellow-colored food. "Seven years," he voiced, barely audible.

NIGHT OF HONOR - Sarah B. Leonard

Every crew member on the bridge turned to look at the Vulcan, all of them wondering the same thing.

The Captain and Dr. McCoy had not returned from a routine trip to Starbase Nine. No one had heard from them since they had left the Medical Supplies office almost two days ago.

They had not reported to the transporter station and they could not be located anywhere on Base Nine. They had vanished without a clue.

THE PAIN - Ellen Thacher

Gentle words hovered in cool air and then fell into a well of friendly warmth as the Vulcan spoke to his friend. "I am grateful that Sybok could not . . . touch your pain."

James Kirk smiled ruefully, hunching his shoulders against the breeze. "You and me both!

I don't think I'm ready for anything like what might be sitting in the back of my mind." The human cocked his head and adroitly changed the subject because he knew exactly what was hiding in his psyche.

POETRY

COVERS

ART

July 1989