                                  T H E

                               Z E P H Y R

                      __     M A G A Z I N E
                     {__]++++++++++++++++++++++++++[]
                     Issue #14                5-11-86

                A weekly electronic magazine for users of
                      THE ZEPHYR II BBS (894-6526)
                    owned and operated by T. H. Smith

                        Editor - Gene B. Williams

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                                (c) 1986

    THIS ISSUE:

       When I was about 15 a friend and I were star gazing. A bright
    light flew overhead. We assumed that it was a jet because of the
    speed at which it moved. Then it came to an abrupt stop. It then
    dropped straight down - stopped again - went straight up - and
    stopped again.
       Off in the distance we saw three jets coming toward the single
    light. The light took off across the sky and within 3 seconds was
    completely beyond the horizon and out of sight.
       A few minutes later we went inside, just in time to hear a news
    bulletin that 3 Air National Guard jets had scrambled and had given
    chase to an object over the city.
       We never did find out anything more about the object. Obviously,
    the scrambled jets never even got close to it, so no further
    information was available, even if we'd looked for it.

       Have you ever thought about what you would do if you met an alien
    from another world?
       Imagine this. You're a young boy, out playing in a field and
    gathering a jarfull of lightning bugs. Off in the distance you see
    a bright light. It's getting closer and closer. You can hear the
    noise. Soon it lands, just a few hundred feet away.
       The hatch swings open, and out steps the alien, with what looks
    very much like a weapon in his hands.
       And he's aiming it AT YOU!

                           TOY FROM THE STARS

       Lying on his back and looking straight up, 10-year-old Leo could
    see nothing but stars, like millions of white specks spilled on a
    black cloth. He strained his eyes, trying to see the othr side -
    trying to see where the stars ended. But he couldn't even tell if
    they were on a single flat plane, or were scattered about in all
    different directions and distances.
       He wondered what it would be like to be out there among the stars.
    "An astronaut," he proclaimed. "That's what I'll be."
       He practiced holding his breath, pretending that his air supply
    was empty. In his imagination he saw the spaceship, just a few feet
    away. Slowly, very slowly, he allowed himself to swim toward it. But
    with a loud puff he had to let out his breath and begin the game
    again.
       To his amazement one of the specks in the sky moved. He saw and
    watched it intently. First it dropped, and the thought that it might
    be a falling star ("meteorite" he corrected himself). Suddenly it
    shifted direction, shooting sideways at incredible speed and then
    stopped directly overhead.
       It was coming down, and getting brighter and larger. Leo wanted
    to jump up and run, but was frozen with excitement. Whatever the
    thing was, it was beginning to show a definite shape, with distinct
    edges - and it was heading straight for the valley in which Leo was
    sitting.
       It was at least 50 feet across, and 30 feet high in the center.
    As the object came closer and closer, Leo could see that the center
    was spinning, like a top inside a donut.
       A soft whistling came to him on the wind. As the pitch of the
    sound dropped, the blueish hue of the strange machine changed to
    orange, and then to shell pink as the object touched the earth.
       It certainly didn't *seem* threatening. The soft humming was
    actually soothing. Then, with a startling click the humming stopped
    and all color faded from the craft. Leo moved quickly and found a
    hiding place beneath a bush.
       He heard a whirring sound, and watched as the side of the object
    split open. A ramp slid out, extending like a metallic tongue, gently
    tasting the ground.
       "What next?" Leo's senses demanded of him. Would some strange
    multi-armed creature emerge? Or perhaps a shapeless fiend, bent
    on the destruction of Earth?
       When the alien walked out onto the ramp, Leo felt almost like
    laughing, and more than a little disappointed. The being has just
    two arms, and two legs. It wasn't too tall, nor too short. If he
    hadn't seen it come from the craft, he might have thought the alien
    to be the corner grocer.
       In one hand it held a small box. For a moment it swung the box
    in all directions, but then stopped when it faced where Leo was
    hiding. Try as he might, Leo just couldn't seem to get far enough
    into the shadows to hide. So he rolled himself into a tight ball,
    held his head in his hands, and waited for the terrible death ray
    to burn the life from his body.
       "You need not fear me," came a gentle voice.
       Cautiously Leo lifted his eyes and saw that the alien was smiling.
       "Come on out," the alien said. "I won't hurt you."
       Trying very hard to appear brave, Leo moved from beneath his bush
    and walked into the open. He planted his hands firmly on his hips,
    daring the alien to try any funny business.
       The alien answered the challenge with a long laugh. "Oh, how much
    you are like my own son. Next time I shall bring him along so he can
    see how strong and brave Earth boys are."
       Leo's fear vanished. "You have a son?"
       "I have two sons, and a daughter. Is that so strange?"
       The idea had never occurred to Leo. A being from a strange planet
    should be strange! But this one was just like real people.
       The alien seemed to sense what Leo was thinking. "I come from a
    distant planet," he said, "but you'll find that people are people,
    wherever they're from."
       "Where *do* you come from?" asked Leo.
       "Do you see that bright star?" said the alien, pointing. "That
    is a sun, just like yours. And around it are planets, just like
    those of your own solar system. I come from a planet in that solar
    system. One very much like this planet."
       "It must be very strange on your planet. I mean, since you
    travel through space and all, well . . . it just must be very
    strange."
       "It might seem so to you. But Earth seems strange to me. To me,
    *you* are the alien, and *this* is an alien world. My son would find
    it even stranger. He's about your age, and isn't old enough to travel
    in space yet. Seeing this world of yours would astound him."
       "How 'bout that," marveled Leo.
       "Would you be willing to make a trade with me? I'd like to bring
    one of your typical Earth things back to my son. In return I'll give
    you one of the favorite toys of boys back on my home planet."
       An alien toy! It was hard to believe that such a race would have
    toys, even for their children. But if they did, those toys would be
    like nothing ever seen on Earth.
       Leo thought for a moment, trying to think of something worthy
    of such a trade. "Would this be okay?" he asked, pulling a comic
    book from his pocket.
       "Oh, that's perfect. Shan will love it." The alien turned and
    started back to his craft. "Wait here just a moment and I'll get
    one of his things."
       A few seconds later he returned carrying a small black box, and
    handed it to Leo. "This is very popular among all the boys where I
    come from. It operates on what you call gravity. I hope you'll
    enjoy it as much as Shan will enjoy your gift."
       Leo clutched the small box to his chest. A toy from the stars -
    from a boy on a far away world!
       "I must leave now. Perhaps one day you'll be able to visit my
    planet and you can meet Shan face to face." He turned and walked
    into the spaceship, then waved from the opening.
       The ramp disappeared, sealing the opening behind it. The soft hum
    began, followed by the changing colored glow. Slowly the machine
    lifted off and then picked up speed as it flew higher and higher.
    Soon it was out of sight.
       His heart pounding with excitement, Leo raced for home to show
    off his prize. He leapt the porch stairs in a bound and flew through
    the door, shouting.
       "MOM! DAD!" he cried, barely getting the words out for lack of
    breath. "Spaceship! . . . landed . . . toy!" He held out the box,
    unable to explain further.
       His parents looked at each other, then back at Leo. "What are you
    talking about? What's this about a spaceship?"
       "Landed," Leo puffed. "Out in the field. Gave me this."
       His father took the box from Leo's hands and gently pried the lid
    off. As he looked inside he burst into laughter. "Our son is playing
    tricks on us again."
       "No!" Leo protested. "It's true. Can't you see? The alien gave
    me this. It's a toy from his home planet."
       "A toy from another planet, huh?" chuckled his father, handing
    the box back to Leo.
       Leo yanked the box away and looked into it.
       There in the box, nestled in cotton, was a yo-yo.

    UNTIL NEXT TIME

       Well, what can I say? the story was written for a younger
    audience, actually. Besides, as I said, this has been a hectic
    past few weeks. There simply hasn't been sufficient time to put
    together a more controversial issue.
       Even so, there could be some interesting discussion as a
    result.
       Use your imagination.
       How would you react to meeting an alien? Especially if that
    alien had an extraordinarily repulsive appearance?
       What would YOU give to an alien as a souvenir of Earth?
       For that matter, this could open up the subject of UFOs. How
    many of you have seen what you thought was a UFO?

       Things are still time-tight. I may or may not have another issue
    up before the 17th. A part of that will depend on the response - and
    on the number of people who "pay their subscription." (The only one
    I know of at the moment is Jim Tibbets.)

      So, until next time . . . don't take any wooden yo-yos.

Zephyr Magazine is © Gene Williams. All rights reserved.