Here I post articles from my Star Trek Fanzine: Sehlat's Roar. I hope to place all of the work online for fan's enjoyment. This Fanzine was first published in the late 1970's by a band of most unlikely friends located in Flat Rock, in the southeastern quadrant of Michigan. The material is clearly born of the time, and some of it is quite dated; yet, for those who enjoy this sort of thing, I trust, at the least, interesting.

Monday, July 10, 2006

Death, Where Is Thy Sting?, part 2

Originally uploaded by Randuwa.
“T’Krrel?” came Daniel’s voice at last, hardly more than a weary whisper.

“I hear,” she replied, turning her head to look at him.

His voice growing a little stronger as he opened his eyes and looked back at her, he asked, “T’Krrel, what is life?”

Could he read her thoughts, she wondered? No, her barriers remained intact. Perhaps his thoughts paralleled her, then.

“There is no complete answer to that question,” she replied softly.

“I know. . . I just wanted to see what you would say,” he murmured, his voice like that of a tired child. “What’s the purpose of life, then?”

T’Krrel considered a moment, then said, “The purpose of life is to live to the greatest fulfillment of one’s potentials and the most complete blending possible of diverse elements into a harmonious whole.”

“To what end, T’Krrel?” The human’s voice, though still soft, seemed to have taken on power, and his face seemed to be growing almost translucent, as though a light shown through, an odd phenomenon T’Krrel couldn’t account for.

Perhaps this was the humans’ ritual, this litany of asking and reassurance. But the answers he demanded were more than she could give. “Unknown,” she replied with a hint of regret.

“T’Krrel, how can you have looked it in the face all your life and still deny it?” he asked, lifting his head slightly.

Perhaps he referred to the god humans still professed to worship. She could not comprehend how they could logically continue the practice in the fact of the vast impersonality of the universe. The man looked at her with an odd expression apparently compounded of puzzlement, anxiety, and – and joy, then whispered, “T’Krrel, he’s here, all around us, always with us, shaping, molding, finishing us. . . I haven’t much time, but I tell you I SEE him. . . You – don’t understand, do you,” his voice ending in hardly more than a sigh of sorrow for her lack of comprehension.

“No, Daniel,” she murmured almost sadly, “I do not understand.”

His death was imminent, yet he seemed perfectly assured of what lay ahead for him. “T’Krrel, come with me anyway.”

What was this? Surely he must be delirious. How was there any logic to the belief that two could go together? And to what point was such a belief? Death was oblivion, to be returned to with a kind of relief--- The human’s intense blue eyes caught hers. Now his words pleaded for her acceptance as he struggled to control his failing body.

“T’Krrel, haven’t you ever been -- gloriously happy? So full of joy – you couldn’t bear it? . . That’s what it’s like. . . Come with me. . . Please?”

He did not seem at all afraid. She knew an instant of terrible doubt. Was it really possible that he did know the answers – and had asked the questions for her sake?

If he did know, then it was only logical to accept his invitation. After all, if she must go, was it not better to go in company? With difficulty, she climbed out of her chair, falling clumsily to half-kneel beside him, clutching at the arm of his chair as she fended off a wave a black dizziness. Was there time enough? Had she strength enough? Or would she be left behind? Vision dimming, she struggled to pull herself upward. She MUST make contact. For an instant her sight cleared and she realized she half-lay across the human’s broken form. “Daniel,” she whispered, her voice harsh with the effort. “I would come. M-may I touch thee?”

His answering affirmative was almost inaudible. Drawing on her last reserves, T’Krrel lifted tingling-numb fingers awkwardly to his burning to forehead, fumbling uncertainly for meld as her strength trickled away like the last grains of sand in an hourglass.

She found herself caught up in strong arms, strangely familiar – and welcome arms. The area of contact spread like wildfire, wrenching from her control as she stared in awe. . . She never noticed when her head drooped to Daniel’s shoulder and her hand fell away.

“See, T’Krrel, I told you he was here.”


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