What you are about to read is a story so bizarre, so strange. so absolutely weird that it must be: THE VAX- LIGHT ZONE

The young programmer sat tapping merrily away at the keyboard of his video ter- minal. Since he was accus- tomed to spending several hours at a time programing, it came as no surprise to him when he realized that he’d been logged on for over three hours.

“That does it”, he ex- claimed happily when he fi- nally finished the program he was working on. ‘Now,’ he said to himself thoughtfully, “What else is there I can do?” As do most of his peers, he had this neurotic compul- sion to use a computer even if it meant useless diddling around.

“Eureka!” he exclaimed unoriginally. “Ill write some mail! That ought to keep me

The Vaxlight Zone

busy for a while.” And he did. He wrote and wrote and wrote and...

As he wrote, strange im- ages started flowing uncon- trollably through his mind. He saw armies of walking

‘computer terminals storm-

ing cities and towns, peo- ple being attacked where they sat; using computers. Then, slowly, the maraud- ing monitors started chang- ing shape; they were becom- ing more and more like the humans they were destroy- ing, yet they still has some- thing grotesque about them that made him reel in terror. And Then It happened: the terminal at which he sat at- tempted full control ofits un- suspecting user,

AAArrrrggggghhhhhhhh!

HHHEEEEELLLPPPPP!

Glorp. Arg. Ech. Gleep. Blap.

(Huff, huff, wheeze): “I’m back. I made

it. ve just survived the

Autumn Whispers

I

Of course he is new to this island

I brought him here

first computer/human inte- gration. (Wheeze.) I can feel all of the power flow-

ing through me. I can see

it now! (Violent spasms, wheeze, cough.) I'll take over the world! With

a computer’s memory and

speed and my intelligence, I

SHALL RULE ALL!” ZAPUBUZZUZAPZAP!!

“That to take

ought

Against his bone wrenching grip on stretched walls,

Pop went the cork on the wine bottle

As intruders with sterile hands and needles

Examined him.

II

Now you stand in awe

As he crouches on yellow stubble Left over from summer fields. Brown snake scale leaves

Dance around his back.

Tears drip from the end of his nose.

Ill

You move closer and see your wonder in his eyes.

Through the window pane of your eye,

An orange and black butterfly flutters in the dirt

Whispering the secret of life to him, to you,

“Listen close, fly while you can.

Burdens of this island weigh heavy on your magic wings.

I waited and now I belong to this part of the island.”

oEM teri

You ‘crouch close to the ground.

The boy turns to face you

With the butterfly pinned

Between his thumb and forefinger. _ Tears drip from your nose.

You too, are a native of this island.

fs:

SS tharsday,

crn te _nashoal

— Cheryl Allen

Jannary 141988:

care of him.” tain Margold as the cleanup crew removed the fragments

said’ Cap-

of seared flesh and melted plastic which was all that remained of the half hu- man/half computer. “Too

bad. He was a nice kid, but he was corrupted by all that power.” As she turned to leave, a noise from an un- damaged computer terminal caught her attention. “What the hell is that?” she stated flatly. “Why, it’s me!” the strangely seductive bari-

came

tone voice of the terminal. “Listen: have I got a deal for

you!!”

Being an adventurous sort, the Captain was in- trigued. ‘“‘What have you got in mind?”

“Well,

how would you

like to have all the power of a computer right inside your body? Just think! With a computer’s memory and speed and your intelligence, we could rule the world !!!!!!!

ZAP!BUZZUZAPIZAP!!

“You’ve got to get them before they even start, these days.” said Major Linkletter as he side-stepped a glob of melted plastic/flesh. As he turned to leave, the strangely seductive female voice of an undamaged terminal caught his attention....

“Boy, what a story THAT was!!” cried little Billy as he hugged his father from his tiny bed. “Can you tell me another? P weeeeese?!?”

““Now son, it’s past your

bedtime. Get to sleep or

Cont. on page 15

~ Third

This classroom is heaven. Not because of the course, nor the teacher, nor the decor of the room itself. It is heaven because of the per- son who is sitting across from me: Nora Fitzpatrick. Each time I have the class, I be- come conscious of all the lit- tle things that are wrong with me, or that she may perceive to be wrong. Is my hair messy, or does she like a more “relaxed” look? Are my clothes too “preppy”, or does she want me to wear the sunglasses, the shorts, the loafers? Should I act strong, or is she looking for someone whom she can control?

I don’t know what she

Period

but I still want her to be mine. She is pretty, but not beautiful. Her height Her skin is just slightly tanned. Her hair is brown, in a common shoulder-length cut. She has no truly outstanding fea- tures, but no visible faults. And I want her.

wants,

is average.

How I wish I was her pencil, gripped firmly yet lightly by her delicate hand. Oh, to be the pendant on her necklace, so close to her | heart. But I know this can- not be, ‘for this is an all-girls school, my name is Sally An- derson, and I am in love with another girl.

— Brian Cormier

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