Ambrov Zeor. Issues 1-3. Page #16
Science Ficition Fanzine
A fanzine centered around the Sime Gen Universe.
Ann Pinzow, Jean Airey, Judy Segal, Kerry Schaefer
Georgia Tech Archives: Science Fiction Fanzines Collection: https://www.library.gatech.edu/archives/finding-aids/view?query=Ambrov+Zeor&docId=ead%2FMS420-ead%2FMS420-ead.xml&chunk.id=#2
Mani Japra, Collin Richards, Emmanuel Fregene, Ella Sivertsen
Copyright 1984 by Jacqueline Lichtenberg. All rights reserved to Jacqueline Lichten- berg except where otherwise noted and arranged by prior agreement. All original artwork remains the property of its creator. All letters received by Jacqueline Lichtenberg, Anne Pinzow, Jean Airey, or Kerry Schaefer will be considered potentially publishable material and will be treated as such, unless the writer specifically requests they not be quoted. Publication does not constitute endorsement by the staff of Ambrov Zeor.
15- TO STRIKE A SPARK, TO LIGHT A FIRE*
To Strike 3 Spark
Sobbing with tears and exhaustion, Digen Farris never slackened his headlong scramble up the
sandy slope. Obviously, such a big collie couldn't be hiding here among the brambles and small
rocks, but he £12 come this way. Digen knew why the Gens, the normal humans, hated him, but
he could never understand why they turned on Friend. Anyway, how far would a dog run on a kick
in the ribs?
Grimly driving his numbed legs, Digen fervently wished he were a mature Sime so he could.
use Gen lifecforce to find Friend. Would he ever go through changeover and get tentacles like his
parents? Or would he grow up a Gen. . . he gagged on the thought. . . Generator, a normal human.
At the top of the hill, he broke three fingernails scaling ten feet of sandstone boulder. The
other side of it sloped gently into a valley that presented a tongue of smooth sand to be licked by
the Pacific Ocean's ponderous fury. From his new vantage he could see the abandoned Korval
Mansion five hundred yards ahead on the crest of the next hill.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and bellowed with all his ten-year-old voice and mind.
”Friend! Friend!" The wind drank his voice, drowning it in the thundering waves so that he scar-
cely heard himself.
But, when he opened his eyes, there was Friend down in the valley, bounding toward him,
streaking through the tufts of spring grass, leaping rain gullies and yelping his greeting.
To Light a Fire
Digen sprawled on the sun-baked boulder, nursing his exhaustion. He stared at the Korval
Mansion Preserve, while Friend licked his face sympathetically. He'd run five miles! Eyeing
the sun and scanning the beach, he watched three gulls hunting the incoming tide, and calculated
he should be home already, but he just couldn‘t move.
He rested there, fascinated by the ancient house, a Gen Government Historical Monument
preserved in timeostasis for posterity. What would posterity ever want with it? It ought to be
used, not preserved.
His imagination caught on the conical tower at one end of the building and bounced to the antique
chimney at the other, then riveted onto the sun-sparked, broken windows. What if it were fixed up
like new, in real 19th century style?
Inspired by it for the thousandth time, he visualized himself graduating from New Harvard,
the biggest, toughest Gen medical school. With his reputation established by his doctoral thesis
spectacularly proving his people a natural mutation, he could easily claim this pre-Sime relic for
his first hospital. It was an old dream.
16, With a very adult sigh, he climbed to his feet, resignedly facing homeward. Suddenly, a
rising flash of nausea convulsed him in the most severe retching he'd ever known. When it was
over, he wiped his mouth, stunned.
"Friend, that's it! Changeover's first sign. Come on, let's tell Mom!"
*These are the very first words of Sime fiction ever written.