The KiScon Zine: 2001

OUT OF PRINT

First Published in May 2001
Winner of three Philon Awards
96 Pages
15 short, short stories, 11 poems, one play
Cover by Iracema Marianne Mueller. No art inside this zine
Poetry by: Helen, Karla Kelly, S.R. Benjamin, Jacque Renee, Virginia Sky, Jo'An, Robin Hood, Omega, A.T. Bush, Kathy Stanis.
All except the play submitted as entries to the KiScon 2001 writing contests
The short stories needed to include one of these three words—treasure, corrosive, limp—and they were required to be no longer than ten pages.
Short entries were encouraged.

From Interview with a Vulcan by Deanna Gray

“Captain Spock—it’s an honor to meet you.”

The tall figure turned slowly. I stopped dead in my tracks, my eyes riveting to his. How does one explain the sense of awe you feel when looking into the depths of space? I couldn’t move, could barely breath, as those black? brown? eyes scanned me, assessing. In just that moment as I crossed the threshold into the room, it seemed as if my whole self was an open screen, displayed for his perusal.

The door hisses shut behind me and the feeling is gone. I remember Vulcan telepathy and wonder just how potent it really is. I concentrate only on why I was here. I raise my hand, offering a credible imitation of the Vulcan salute, something I had worked hours on. As I look at the imposing gaze of the stern figure before me I can’t help but recall Captain Kirk’s words to me just a moment ago in the corridor: "don’t upset him." I wonder if Kirk had bothered issuing a similar warning to the Vulcan.

A deep, velvet voice ended the silence. “Vulcans are bred to peace.”

“Captain?” I sputtered. The non sequitur took me totally off guard.

“I do not bite, Ms. Greene.” The Vulcan indicated a chair, folding his long frame gracefully in another.

I took my seat, squirming slightly under his intense gaze. Another silence, stretching on for a few minutes. I suddenly realize that I had been staring dumbly at him, and he was patiently waiting for me to begin. I swallowed. I can’t believe how nervous I am, how I must seem like an inexperienced junior instead of the veteran I'm supposed to be. Of course I had heard all the stories of the legendary Captain Spock, and over the years I had tried a number of times to secure an interview with him, even just get near enough to ask a question or two, but all in vain. He didn't give interviews. Period.

But here I was, finally face to face with the famous Vulcan and I couldn't seem to speak. I cursed myself. I hadn’t believed my luck when I had drawn this assignment and here I was blowing it. I felt the flush rise in my cheeks as I scrambled for words.

“I’m really honored to meet you.” The wrong words, out before I could stop them. Damn, I’d already said that—how stupid! An eyebrow lifted beneath black bangs, and I hurried on. “Speaking for myself and the staff of the Galaxy Review, we’re very pleased you consented to this interview. We’re aware of Vulcan privacy, and the fact that you always refused interviews in the past.”

He gave me a curious look, but only said “Starfleet consented, Ms. Greene.”

“They ordered you?” Relief washed over me, as my tongue seemed to finally be working right. Maybe I could come out of this without seeming to be a total idiot. I checked my recorder, a long standing habit, even though the sensor imbedded in my hand tingled, indicating the two were linked and operating. The sensor was uncomfortable, but ensured my thoughts were recorded along with our words, and I didn't want anything lost or forgotten from this meeting. I'd waited long enough for it. I set the little device down on the table beside me.

“Negative. But it was strongly suggested.” Was that a glint of amusement in those eyes, the slightest touch of humor in that voice?

“You’ve experienced something very unique, and there are many beings who are interested in you and what you went through, Captain.” I actually dared a small smile.

There was a sudden static in the room and his eyes bore into mine. He hadn't moved an inch but nonetheless held me fast, with only the force of his will.

“Let us speak plainly, Ms. Greene. You are here for an interview and Starfleet wishes that I give one. I will therefore endeavor to answer your questions. However, the asking of a question does not guarantee an answer.”

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From Treasure Hunt by T'Len

The scene seemed to be idyllic. Palms swayed slowly in the wind. The sun was warming blue water and golden sand. An exotic bird lilted his song. Two nearly naked figures rested lazily on towels. The sun had already tanned their skin. Both were deeply absorbed by their literature.

Jim Kirk sighed and clapped his book shut. His fingers traced lovingly over the title written in gold letters on the leather cover. The old edition of Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson had been Spock's birthday present to him.

Hearing the human's sound Spock lay his data padd aside and looked questioningly on his companion. As Jim saw Spock's arched eyebrow he shrugged his shoulders and tried to explain. "I was just envious of those old times. Sometimes I wish I would have lived then."

A second brow rose to new heights. "Why should one desire to live then? Those times were anything but pleasant. Less cleanliness with an accompanying ratio of disease, high incidences of starvation and malnutrition, greatly decreased life expectancy, and so on."

"Yeah, but there were also adventures. A man could discover new frontiers, unknown islands or the wild west of northern America for example." Another envious sigh escaped Jim's mouth.

"Jim, I would say our lives were also full of adventures and discoveries."

"But that's in our past, Spock. Look at what are we now. A deskbound admiral and a teacher at the academy. I miss our old life, Spock. I miss the ship and our friends and all the adventures. I even miss our old holidays. Then we were used to having fun on Wrigley's or Argelius. Now we are lying on a safe and sandy beach of Kauai."

Jim quickly added, as he saw the slight but unmistakable shadow of disappointment on Spock's face, "Don't get me wrong, I love being here with you. But I'm so bored from just resting in the sand and reading old books. And we are only here for three days. I need some distraction"

Spock thought for a moment then rose up from his towel and extended his hand to Jim. "Would you like me to distract you for awhile?"

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From Fire and Rain by Greywolf the Wanderer

Private Log: Ambassador Spock cha' Sarek keran James Kirk recording; stardate 95786.3

I am restless tonight, disturbed, full of grief. I am much taken with thoughts of the past, in a way I have not permitted myself to be for many years. Perhaps it is time I spoke of these things, if only in my own private records. Perhaps this will bring me a measure of peace, or at least hasten the coming of tomorrow and the passing of this grimmest of anniversaries.

Eighty years ago tonight, they came to tell me that Jim was dead.

I had not known.

I did not feel our bond break. I felt... something, a disturbance I could not precisely define. Something awakened me in the small hours of the night, as I lay sleeping in the apartment Jim and I were sharing at the time. I had only that very evening returned from a scientific conference which had been scheduled far in advance, preventing me from attending the launch of the Enterprise-B with Jim and my former crew-mates.

It was an important conference, a gathering of some of the Federation's top scientists. We had been trying to solve the serious ecological problems that still plagued Utopia Planitia Colony despite years of terraforming. The paper I'd presented was on a subject essential to the work. I could hardly have stepped aside merely to indulge personal nostalgia. Jim knew that. It was he who had urged me to attend despite the newly-scheduled launch.

Still, I have never entirely forgiven myself for not being there at his side when he died.

From Breath of Life by kira-nerys

I couldn't breathe, I couldn't swallow, I couldn't do anything but stare at the limp body in my arms. His face was so pale, like a sheet of paper, and dark eyelashes rested against high cheekbones, not even fluttering.

We had stumbled across one of the holes in the ground. Taking the phaser blast that was meant for me, he had stumbled and we had both fallen. Our enemies ran past us, screaming in triumph and we were alone, both of us hurt, and maybe Spock was dying. I had no way of telling in the darkness that surrounded us.

All I knew was that he wasn't breathing. I wanted to breathe for him so badly that my heart was breaking.

I had never told him. Not even after T'Pring's rejection had I told him how much he meant to me and regret flooded my body now, heavy as concrete, suffocating as a wet blanket. The pain eating through my chest felt like corrosive eating through steel.

"Spock," I whispered. "Don't you die on me. Don't you dare die on me!"

From Ask Me Tomorrow by Islaofhope

It had been a good party. Of course, Enterprise’s Recreation Department always had good parties. Since they’d been married, Kirk and Spock had celebrated both of their birthdays together; the dates were only a couple of days apart on the Terran calendar. This year was infinitely better than last when Spock had been dead and Kirk had been furious with McCoy for arranging a birthday celebration anyway, but this year had one thing in common with last: Spock wasn’t at this party either, despite his promise to return from Vulcan in time. Instead, he’d sent a one-line message that he was delayed.

When Kirk walked into his quarters, the door to the sleeping area was open, and he hesitated in the doorway. His heart accelerated when he saw Spock seated in the corner, his face barely lit by the flicker from the firepot, but Kirk's flash of joy was smothered by his pique.

Brushing past Spock, he said in a corrosive voice, "I’m glad you’re here, of course, but you should have come down. The party was for your birthday, too, you know." Without waiting for an answer, he let the door to the bathroom close behind him.

He washed his hands, trying to ignore his own pale face in the mirror. Fortunately, he’d been too busy talking to drink much, but he was tired. He didn’t relish the idea of an argument with Spock, especially over something as petty as his feeling neglected because his mate hadn’t made it home for their birthday celebration. Why hadn’t he kept his mouth shut?

When he came out of the bathroom, Spock hadn’t moved from his original position in the shadows. "Sorry," Kirk mumbled. "I am glad you’re home. Are you okay? Is Sybok’s katra—?"

“Take off your clothes. I wish to see you,” Spock growled.

Kirk’s jaw dropped, and an ember of resentment flared in his belly. “If you think you can just walk in here and….” He rubbed his hand across his forehead; he didn’t like hearing the voice of an aggrieved spouse coming out of his mouth. "Listen, you’ve been gone a month, and it’s nice to know that you’d like to make love, but I’m tired. Let’s make it tomorrow morning."

"I said…" Spock leaned forward and grasped Kirk’s wrist in a bruising grip, "…take off your clothes, James."

"What the hell—?" Spock never called him "James."

From Twilight by Katherine Cooke

Bitterness? I try, very hard, not to fall into that trap. It is so ugly, isn’t it, the picture of a bitter old man? Detestable. So I reach within for the old passion and conviction, but people tell me I’m belligerent. I try for sincerity and it comes out with a twist. It’s there but I’m tired. So tired now, Spock.

The cold doesn’t seem so bad any more. These Romulan suits are efficient. I’m sure to pick up the settlement on the tricorder anytime now, if I could just stop dropping the thing. Just as well it’s too dry for snow.

What a desolate landscape. This isn’t the place for my desert-born friend. I hate to think of you here, your heart’s warmth seeping away into this endless twilight cold. Well, I’m coming to take you home and we’ll find light and life again together, the way it should be. It all falls into place when you’re around—only time I’ve known who I really am these last years has been when you were in my life. God, I need you.

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From Bet by JS Cavalcante

Halfway to Sickbay just before alpha shift, Dr. Leonard McCoy nearly ran into the captain and Spock in a fairly crowded corridor. They were heading in the opposite direction, towards the bridge. McCoy shouldered his way past several crewpeople.

"Mornin', Jim, Spock."

Spock answered with his usual polite nod; Kirk smiled. "Bones."

McCoy would have shrugged and continued on his way, except that when Kirk turned to go…well, McCoy couldn't even find a word for what he saw, but his medical intuition went suddenly on yellow alert. Something was…not…quite…right. Something in Kirk's body language, McCoy thought, but he couldn't quite pinpoint it. He stared at Jim's retreating back for a moment.

"Did you sleep well, Captain?" he said loudly enough to call Kirk back to him.

Kirk turned, glanced at Spock, and walked over slowly. He moved almost…carefully, McCoy noted.

"Like a baby, Doctor; thanks for asking."

Nearby, Spock raised an eyebrow, but made no comment.

McCoy rolled his eyes. "It's a metaphor, Spock, for god's sake."

"In fact, it is a simile, but I believe the word you are seeking is 'idiom.' It is an idiomatic expression, and I am fully aware of the meaning."

McCoy shook his head. "What's gotten into both of you?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Doctor," Kirk said. Innocently.

Kirk's nonchalant tone told McCoy he was onto something.

From The Power of the Mind by Michael Easton

What started out to be a quiet weekend of meditation and self-healing developed into one of revelation and concern.

Spock was preparing his belongings for his time away from the Enterprise; he was reluctant to leave, but had been encouraged by his Captain, and his "Doctor," after the demanding months of their recent assignment. He reflected on the events, mentally reviewed the dialogues and analyzed the results, all of which seemed to ignite a spark in his eyes. He did so enjoy a challenge! However, this last assignment had drained even him. He felt tired. Jim had decided to seek replenishment elsewhere, and in the company of an attractive female. Spock had decided to seek the quiet of the "Far Pavilions," a monastery of sorts in the high mountain ranges of Bashir. The air would be clear and crisp; the only sounds would be an occasional chime of a bell or the sound of the wind as it drifted through the corridors. A chill ran up his spine as he thought about it. He would have to remember to pack some warm clothing.

From Mirror Mirror Mirror by A.T. Bush

The door of McCoy's private exam room slid open in time for the intruder to hear....

"...a fang, doctor." Spock glanced up, expecting to see their Imperial Captain barging into McCoy's inner sanctum. Kirk was the only officer aboard with the authority to pass the Vulcan operatives guarding the entrance.

Kirk couldn't resist commenting on the scene of McCoy bent over Spock's groin. "Giving Spock a blow-job, Bones?"

McCoy harrumphed and straightened, swab in hand, scowling at the nosey captain. "He doesn't need another one. That's what's wrong with his pecker now."

Kirk moved close, peering at the limp green penis. "Nice dick," he said absently.

From The Love Song of Lt. Commander Spock by The Enigmatic Big Miss Sunbeam

Spock watched Jim Kirk limp into the cave.

And light the opening of that cave like a minor sun or a god.

“Spock, the next time I want to go on a treasure hunt, just stun me.” Then he smiled at Spock and rubbed his leg.

“Captain, I believe your information about this planet was incomplete. The rain here has the most curiously corrosive quality.”

Their eyes met.

Then there was a dull roaring in Spock’s ears and he knew what it meant. He shook his head. “I am hoping we can contact the ship…well, Mr. Scott surely can…beam us up.”

“Spock, are you unwell?” Jim said. His voice was full of fun and caution.

“I…do not know.” He changed the subject. “Jim, how is your leg?”

“A minor sprain. I’ll be all right. Really.”

There was a silence. They listened to the rain. It was coming down hard now. Then Jim spoke again.

“I’ve already contacted Scotty. I told him we’d be fine till the rain is over.”

Spock glanced at Jim, and then looked back at his recorder. It was only the second time, and he wasn’t quite sure of the proper procedure. In his imaginings he’d foreseen all the difficulties of the first time, but he had never considered how the second time might present challenges. He swallowed.

It was quite possible that he was mistaken, that what had happened the first time was a space aberrancy. After all, curious things were always taking place in the intergalactic world. He glanced up again.

Jim was watching him and smiling.

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From The Date by Menolly

Spock's return home had gone calmly, unemotionally. His mother had restrained from hugging him, content with touching his hand and offering him a radiant smile. Sarek also touched hands with his son, even going so far as to restrain himself from the usual fatherly lectures on proper Vulcan behaviour and obligations to the Family.

They spent a pleasant day in each other's company, acquainting Spock with the news he missed out on while on deep space assignments. When mealtime came Spock was surprised to see the formal dining table laid for five people.

"Mother, are we expecting guests?" He queried with a lifting eyebrow. No mention had been made during the day of any guests.

"It is our wish that you meet a suitable person while you are on Vulcan Spock," Sarek answered for Amanda, and in formal high Vulcan so that his meaning would not be mistaken. Spock felt himself tense. So Sarek's pleasantness this afternoon had been a charade. Once again his father was intervening in his life. He sighed inwardly, it was, after all, the Vulcan way.

"I would be honoured to meet your guest," he replied as expected and resigned himself to an evening of pleasantries with some suitable, well-bred Vulcan lady in a similarly unfortunate position as himself, unbonded.

When the door chime signaled the guests' arrival Spock remained in the dining room, as was proper, while his father went to the door to greet their visitors. He could hear faint voices but could not make out any words. Steeling himself he composed his features in the proper Vulcan mask and rose from his seat as his father entered the room, preceding their guests.

He needed all his Vulcan control as his captain and Leonard McCoy solemnly entered the room. Jim was blushing red but McCoy was showing admirable restraint, his keen blue eyes meeting Spock's in appraisal.

"My son, I believe that you are acquainted with Leonard McCoy and his friend James Kirk? We thought that it would be suitable for James to come here and visit with you tonight."

From Test of Faith by Menolly

It was on my fifth morning in the desert that my thoughts turned to Jim Kirk, and how we had made love that last day on the Enterprise.

It is called Kahs Cha Keni, a test of faith. The acolyte to Gol is taken out to the desert and left in scant shade, blindfolded and tethered to a stake in the ground by a slender length of rope. The blindfold could easily be removed, the rope broken. The test is not to do so, to have faith that the watching Masters will keep you safe.

There is nothing to do, no food and little water. The acolyte is alone with his thoughts. I wanted to avoid mine.

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From Talking by Mildred Manhill

Kirk rolled over, stretched in his sleep and encountered an empty cold space.

Awake now, he pondered this, recent and all too familiar, occurrence. Since Spock and he had consummated their relationship one month prior, they had both loved waking up to each other. That is until the last three days.

Lying in bed, Kirk tried to figure out what could be the problem. The last week had been hectic. The peace treaty negotiation with the Angorian had been lengthy and difficult requiring a stay of several days and nights on the planet—in separate quarters.

The first night back had been wonderful. After an extremely fast, hot "quickie" they had then made slow passionate love till early in the morning. Since then, nothing.

Spock had been avoiding him on the bridge and at dinner, claiming fatigue at night, then gone before Kirk awoke in the morning. In fact he wasn’t sure if Spock had even stayed all night. Last night he had reached across Spock’s hip to encounter cloth. Since their first night together they both slept naked—Kirk kidded that it was more logical and saved time. With his back turned away, Kirk couldn’t tell in the dark if the Vulcan was asleep or not, but Spock’s limp cock spoke volumes, especially when he felt Spock turn even further away.

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From The Green Machine by Mildred Manhill

Spock looked around the store in amazement. He had never before had occasion to patronize an establishment which specialized in fulfilling sexual needs and fantasies and he was surprised to see so many things on display. Kirk, no stranger to this sort of place, was likewise surprised at the variety. They walked slowly, looking for the section marked appropriate for Human or Vulcan use.

“Oh, look Spock, there’s even one here for Horta.“ Kirk picked up a squat jar and opened it. He gasped for breath. “My gawd,” he said, “it looks like axle grease and smells like battery acid.“ He held the jar out toward Spock who drew back in disgust.

“Now how would two rocks? No! I don’t even think I want to imagine it.”

“Yes. The scent is somewhat...corrosive. However, those silver eggs were 97.283% fertile.”

“True. Hey, with a little research I’ll bet you and McCoy could publish a paper on Hortan mating rituals. I remember momma Horta took a particular liking to you, and I’ll bet she’d give you lots of information.”

“Jim, at the moment my only interest lies with human mating customs.”

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From Duet for One Voice by Carolyn Spencer

He’s going to a place called Gol, Bones. Some godforsaken retreat somewhere high in the mountains at the edge of the Sas’a’shar Desert way south of ShiKahr. I made him tell me exactly where it was. I need a place to picture him in my mind. Sounds desolate as hell, doesn’t it? He said it will bring him the peace he’s looking for. The answers he so desperately wants to find. I asked if he was coming back. No, he said. He didn’t think so. You see, Bones, they’ll meld with him there. They’ll cleanse those troublesome emotions right out of him there. And you want to hear the worst of it? They’ll remove the memories that caused those emotions. He wants to become a goddam mental eunuch, Bones. He’s going to goddam beg them to do that to him.

Guess I sort of lost it then. Next thing I knew I was up and pacing the room and calling him a lot of things I didn’t really mean. Things I hope he’ll eventually forgive me for. I called him a damn coward, Bones. How could I have done that? When I know he’s the bravest man I’ll ever know? Without integrity, I said. He’s got more integrity in his little finger than most people have in their entire bodies. Shit, Bones.

He sat there and didn’t say a word while I attacked him. Not a single word. You want to know the real reason I was so angry, Bones? It was because he was going to have the temerity to actually leave…me. How’s that for being an arrogant bastard?

Finally I ran out of names to call him. Ran out of anything to say at all. I found myself at the porthole looking out into space and wondering how in hell I was going to get through the rest of my life without my right arm.

He came up behind me. His heat along my back. He didn’t touch me. He didn’t speak. Just that incredible heat. And all I could think of was how cold it would be never to feel that heat again.

Then he laid his hand on my shoulder. Spoke my name. Once. Low and deep.

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From Cinderspock by Jenna Hilary Sinclair, an irreverent musical parody of K/S based on the classic "fairy" tale Cinderella.

Spock: But, Father, I don't want to bond with T'Pring.

Sarek: Spock, we have had this conversation seventeen point five times before. Because of your…impediment… (here Spock looks abashed and crosses his hands over his groin), T'Pring is the only possible candidate. She has the largest twat on this planet, and she is almost finished with the stretching procedures. In a few more months she should be able to accommodate your, uh, your bulk at the time of your bonding.

Spock: (sighs heavily) It is most unfortunate that I am so unlike other Vulcans in that area.

Sarek: Yes, I am afraid we have your human heritage to blame, although I understand that you are considered out-sized even by their standards.

Spock: (hopefully) Perhaps we should take pity on T'Pring and allow her to shrink to her normal capacity. I hear that she spends much time with Stonn. He undoubtedly has a normally sized Vulcan penis (finally takes his hands off his groin and holds up his fingers to measure two inches). I could search elsewhere and—

Sarek: (he interrupts with a chop of the hand.) Negative! You will remain on this planet and continue with your scientific studies. After your bonding you will take up your post at the Vulcan Science Academy and there will be no more talk of your…impediment. Except, of course, in the bars.

Spock: But, Father, I wish to leave Vulcan. I want to see more of other Federation worlds, perhaps even go exploring.

Sarek: (recoiling in horrible shock) Exploring! That is an obscene word on Vulcan.

Spock: I want to do more than explore other worlds, I wish to explore other…(very hesitantly) people. More than the Vulcan women to whom you have introduced me. Perhaps some…humans. (brightly) Human men. Do you have any idea what I mean, Father?

Sarek: (very flustered but determined): Of course not! I have no idea what you are talking about, Spock. We will not speak of such…possibilities again. You are to bond with…(he takes a deep breath, determined, clenches his fists) a female.

Spock: (deflated) Oh.

Sarek: (rearranging his collar) It is time for me to attend the reception with Admiral Nogura and other members of Starfleet. The Enterprise will leave on its five year mission in a few days, and there will be many ceremonies and functions that require my attendance.

Spock: You mean the grand reception that will be held on the Enterprise tonight? Will you be there?

Sarek: Of course.

Spock: Father, I have never even been off this planet. I wish—

Sarek: (interrupting) That is because of your impediment. I do not wish you to be considered a freak. Here on Vulcan, people know of your problem and do not make comments. Except, of course, in the bars. I fear that in other, less rarified society off Vulcan, you would be vilified.

Spock: (passionately) But I wish to learn new things, see new places, meet new people! Especially certain special people!

Sarek: It is out of the question.

Spock: Do you know the man who is the captain of the Enterprise, Father?

Sarek: Captain Kirk?

Spock: Yes, Captain James T for Tiberius Kirk. He is considered an exemplary example of a human.

Sarek: (giving Spock a warning eye) No! I do not know him! And you will not know him, either! Consorting with strange humans, strange human men is not a fit occupation for the son of Sarek.

Spock: (eyes downcast and sad) Oh.

Sarek: I will attend the reception and you will stay here, studying the latest information on subatomic particle formation in the heart of neutron stars. And you will think about your bonding to T'Pring, which I believe I will advance to take place earlier than we had planned. Perhaps, immediately after the Enterprise leaves on its mission. That is, assuming she is sufficiently stretched by that time.